#but hear him like he’s looking out at the world

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Love at first (club) Meeting.

Damian wants to make friends in school. He asked Colin what he should do to get this accomplishment after months of failure.

The friend recommended joining school clubs, affectionately telling him that he was in a sewing club at his own public school.

Damian didn't see how getting into an organization dedicated to some hobby was going to cause friendships, but Colin seemed to have a decent amount of friends when he wasn't running around as Abuse.

He went to check on the clubs available, but nothing really got his attention. There was the art club but only one meeting told him that it wasn't for him. The club was more for his classmates to stand around and chit chat.

None of them actually did any art, seeing as the ussually club advisor was away on maternity leave. The substitute is the baseball couch on off-season, and although he encouraged everyone to draw, it wasn't the same amount of fun as normal activities.

The other kids assured him that they would be painting and sculpting once Mrs. Flor came back, but Damian didn't want to wait.

So he leaves and tries to find a new one. The world history club bored him with useless trivia, and the chess club had no worthy challengers.

Damian decides to try one last time before giving up, when he encounters Daniel Fenton trying to get a second signature for his Ghost Hunting Club.

Fenton is from outside of Gotham. He moved here with his family after Father bought out his family business, having turned their research into defenses against aliens. Damian had seen him around school, but other than the occasional bully, no one paid too much attention to him.

Gotham Academy had four requirements for a student run club. There had to be two members to be officially started. They needed to keep a clear recap of their club minutes, a teacher had to sign as their advisor and, for the first two years, had to be without a bank account.

Fenton held up his pathetic sign-up sheet in front of passing students. He stammers, "Would like to join the Ghost hunter-um if I could bother you for a moment - are you interested in-excuse me"

Damian watches Fenton try over and over to ask for a second club memeber, but no one bothers to even hear his full question. They walk right by him as if though they could see through Fenton. He can't say why but that upsets him.

Before Damian knows what he's doing he finds his feet marching towards Fenton. The boy is staring down at his clipboard with a disheartened expression before he spots Damian.

Fenton's jaw drops, and his eyes grow impossiblely wide as Damian gets closer. He draws his clip board up to his chest, staring at the Wayne as if he was the most fascinating thing he's ever seen.

Surely Damian is not that different looking than any other human. Why is he acting like that?

"Good morning," He says when he finally stands in front of Fenton. The boy's face turns s red "I am Damian Wayne."

"Hi, I'm Danny, um Fenton, I'm Danny Fenton," the other rambles while nervously tapping his fingers on the back of the clipboard.

"Well, met Fenton. I overheard you are requesting signatures for a club?"

"Oh!" Fenton turns the clipboard but in his haste it slips from his hold, landing on the ground with loud thump. Damian raises a brow while Fenton breaks out into a sweat.

Damian leans down to grab the board at the same time, Fenton throws himself forward, and he sees the collusion before it happens, but Damian knows that a regular child wouldn't be able to dodge it without raising questions. He allows Fenton's forhead to slam against his with a hiss.

"I'm sorry!" Fenton gasps out, but Damian heeds him no mind, as he signs the form with a flourish. The harsh strokes of his pen echo in the hallway, informing Damian that he needs to head to class before the second bell.

"I shall see you after school. We can see the famous haunted bathroom in the gym. " He tells the fool, slapping the clipboard into the boy's hand. Damian twists on his heel, strutting away. He throws a hand over his shoulder, calling back. "Ta"

He misses the look of utter awe adoration aimed at his back or the rapid growing infatuation in his clubmates' eyes.

It's the start of Damian's very odd club because he finds he actually enjoys walking around the school trying to find readings for ghosts. He even enjoys following Fenton to abandon buildings, dark sewers and sitting around with childish recordings asking for any signs of the afterlife.

That's mostly due to how nervous Fenton was when wandering into haunted places. He finds great joy in watching Fenton try to put a brave face on despite shaking in his boots when a ghost might be around.

It may be cruel of Damian, but it's highly entertaining.

Danny is not scared of ghosts - that would be a bit counterproductive given his Halfa status. He is crushing hard on Damian Wayne, and when he has a crush, he gets ridiculous nervous around them that it's easier to blame the shaking, the sweating and shuttering on phasmophobia.

But could anyone blame him? Damian Wayne is a walking work of art, so much that when Danny first saw him in the hallway, he was half sure, the surroundings had dimmed.

He wasn't exaggerating when Danny thought Damian had stardust and white doves floating around his head at all times. He was that stunning.

And he had walked up to Danny to join his club, the one he had been trying for almost a week to get started because he was tired of being a friendless loser and took up Sam's advice in a desperate last ditch effort. He is so glad he had that video call with her because without it, he would never have gotten to speak to Damian.

They were in different classes, had different lunch periods, and frankly, Damian was the son of the richest man in the country. Danny was the random kid on scholarship with creepy ghost powers hunting other ghosts.

He wrote poems about Damian's eyes when flying over Gotham, sighing like a pathetic school boy. He also dodges a kuni shoot at him by Robin.

Ugh, he hates that guy. He's so rude and has been trying to hunt Danny down ever sense they arrived in Gotham. He was scary good at what he did, and the only reason Danny stayed free was Robin not understanding that he was after a ghost.

Robin thought he was a meta and had attack because of that. Which, racist much? Danny openly mocked him just to get on Robin's nerves.

Batman let Robin cause after the meta because he could tell from that little smile as he raced after the glowing figure that Damian found the other attractive. It reminds him of his early years chasing Catwoman across the rooftops.

Maybe Gotham wasn't so bad a move after all.

[peachesofteal]

Cool Girl

Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / masterlist / warning: cancer

“Wait… I’m sorry, I… I think I misheard you…”

The doctor gives you a very kind, but very practiced smile and pats your hand gently. “It’s a brain tumor.”

Oh god. Oh my god. You’re going to throw up. White hot fear rockets up your spine, spreading through every nerve, vessel, piece of tissue like a crack of lightning, obliterating everything in its path.

A tumor. A brain tumor.

“Okay… uh,” you don’t know where to begin. What kind of questions do you ask? What happens next? “Do I… get surgery or something? What… what do I do?” She nods, pointing to something on the tablet screen, scans of your brain lit up like a fucking Christmas tree.

She’s explaining something to you, something you don’t really understand, but you vaguely catch the end of it. “-to try to shrink it. The chemo will hopefully do that for us, and we can move to next steps.” Chemo. Chemo?

“Oh.”

“I know this is a lot to take in, but we’re going to do everything we can.” Everything we can?

She sends you home with a stack of papers, pamphlets, and more appointments than you could possibly remember.

Your empty apartment suddenly feels more sad, more morose than it ever has before, and for the hundredth time today, you think of Simon and Johnny.

Pathetically, you want to call them.

Maybe Simon would let Johnny come over. Maybe he’d let Johnny hold you.

Maybe Simon would even want to hold you too. You snort. Unlikely.

Instead of someone to lay with, be with, you slip fitfully into a restless sleep, buried in a pile of pillows.

Your days turn into Russian roulette.

You meet your oncologist, you start chemo. You take medical leave from work, considering you can’t do anything except go back and forth between appointments, and try not to think about the monster that’s living in your head, sucking you dry. Mornings roll into nights, and you become some sort of zombie, dragging your feet around the building, unable to eat, unable to sleep.

You can sometimes stomach soup though. Soup of all kinds, chicken noodle, ramen, tomato, you name it. It takes two weeks for you to get through your mostly broth diet before you’re forced out into the world to buy some more.

The grocery store is a nightmare. The lights are too bright, the people are too loud, and it’s freezing, even though most people are in shorts and short sleeves.

You’re bundled up. It’s a little ridiculous.

You take your time in the soup aisle with your basket, glancing over your options, trying to push down your nausea and figure out what you might feel like eating later. It’s a daunting task, considering what you threw up before you left the flat.

You fill your basket with as much as you think you might need, ignoring the throbbing in your head as much as possible, and round the corner to the frozen section, looking for some ice cream. Something sweet doesn’t sound so bad, you think. Maybe some mint chocolate, or cookies and cream.

You stand in front of the frosted doors, debating your options, oblivious to the world.

Oblivious until you hear someone calling your name.

When you turn your head, there’s a flash of a mohawk from the corner of your eye, and then Johnny is standing in front of you with his jaw dropped.

“Oh. Hi.”

“Hi?” He bleats. “Hi? Bonnie, ye… ye look-“

“Like shit?” You finish for him, unimpressed, and he shakes his head.

“No. Sick. Are ye alright?” Truly, you want to lie. Throw yourself at his feet and beg him to come home with you, cuddle you, help you.

You can’t though. You know you can’t.

Johnny’s heart doesn’t belong to you. Neither does Simon’s.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine. Just tired.” His eyes narrow, your own heart bleeds. “Swear.” He shakes his head.

“Ye’re lying.” You’re about to tell him to mind his business, to tell him you’re not his business anymore, when his eyes go incredibly soft, and he steps closer. “If this is about what happened-“

“I don’t… I can’t do this.” You move away, backwards. “I just wanted to get some ice cream. I don’t want to do this with you.” You cast a mournful look at the freezers behind him, and then turn away, a barely there goodbye whispered over your shoulder.

[togumie]

“GONNA SHOW HIM YOU’RE MINE.”

WINDBREAKER BOYS + LOVE BITES. ft. togame jo, hayato suo, kaji ren, sakura haruka, & umemiya hajime x f!reader

filled request: “Can I request for umemiya, sakura, suo, and kaji where they see reader with another guy friend and they get jealous because the guy is being flirty and obviously trying to make moves but reader is dense so then the boys give reader a hickey for the first time to show that reader is taken??”

mdni ! suggestive. 1.5K WC ; added togame ! :>

TOGAME JO. pet name ‘doll’ used!

“him again?”

you adjust the straps of your top before twisting and turning to get a better look at your outfit. “mhm,” you hum in response, “said he needed help asking someone out today. i’m gonna help pick the flowers.”

togame's eyes narrow a bit at the obvious intent of your friend. it didn’t help that you really didn't have a single clue in the world, and on top of your obliviousness— you're dressed so cute.

the combination was just a recipe for disaster, and he wants to finally put an end to it today.

“ah— what are you doing?” you yelp when he suddenly tugs at your wrist, pulling you off balance as you stumble and fall onto his lap. his arm comes to loop around your waist before you can even stabilize yourself, hugging you tight against his chest.

“togame, let go,” you whine, “i’m gonna be late!”

“don't wanna.”

the casualty of his tone makes your eyebrow twitch. he almost sounds bored with how slow the words come out of his mouth, and despite that fact, his arm doesn’t seem to budge at all when you try and push against him.

“plus…..” he’s choosing to ignore your efforts to move him— or he just doesn’t notice them in the first place, “you don’t need to meet with a guy like that anyway.”

“and why is that?” you retort, arms crossing in frustration as you give up and resort to simply glaring back at your boyfriend. "..are you jealous?"

"course i am, doll" he lulls, fingers pulling your top’s strap out of the way before his lips attach themselves to the side of your neck, sucking at the skin as you shiver. his hand tilts your jaw to the side, giving him the space he needs to better suckle and kiss your neck.

you can’t help the little noise that slips out when he releases the skin with a loud pop, exhaling deeply against you before peppering kisses beside the dark mark he's given you.

“can't stand when guys are tryna get at what's mine.”

HAYATO SUO.

“that friend of yours..” suo coos against the shell of your ear, “really likes you, doesn’t he?”

he's looming right over you, his familiar smile looking a little different today when his arms are caging you right beneath him, and you suck in a sharp breath when he leans down, tassel earrings tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.

“h-huh? he does?” your voice comes out a little breathless from the way his lips are just barely hovering over your skin.

“he does. you couldn't tell?”

in any other situation, he would think your innocence would be endearing. but after watching your friend get all close to you like that, holding your hair up and then fixing your necklace for you— he couldn't help it. a part of him is thankful for how steady his voice comes out, because you'd never be able to guess that just below his calm exterior- he was absolutely fuming with jealousy.

“no, i didn't know,” you whisper, “but you know i would've turned him down if he said anything-”

“i can help with that,” he interrupts, tone sweet and soothing. he plants a kiss just below your ear, his breath grazing your ear, and it sends a shiver straight down your spine.

“h-how?” you squeak.

you can feel him smile against you before his hand comes to tilt your head to the side, exposing more of your neck for him. “just like this,” he whispers before he's taking a sharp inhale, lips latching onto you as he sucks harshly.

the noise that comes out of you riles him up even more. he's sucking harder before he even realizes, calm demeanor crumbling just a bit when he hears the noises you’re making just for him.

you think you felt his teeth graze your neck for a second when he releases the skin, pulling back a bit to admire the mark he’s left on your neck.

"it's a good idea, right? turn your head the other way for me now."

KAJI REN. calls you ‘my girl.’

“w-what's wrong, kaji?” you manage to stammer between kisses, “you're a lot rougher today— something on your mind?”

he pulls back a bit when your hands tug at his hair, a part of him content when he sees the way your lips are slightly swollen, your mouth parted to catch your breath as your chest rises up and down from the intensity.

there was a lot on his mind, but marking you up was at the forefront of his brain. he could already tell that only kissing you just wasn’t gonna cut it after all that’s happened today.

“‘s fine,” he mutters before he’s back on top of you, his lips roughly latching onto the skin just beneath your collarbone, sucking at the skin as you gasp above him. “oh- t-that feels good,” your voice comes out as a breathy sigh, “are you… mad still?”

“mad at that friend of yours,” he growls against your skin, pressing a quick kiss onto the mark until he's moving onto another part of your neck, lips hovering just below your ear. “he was tryna get at my girl right in front of me.”

“i'm sure he wasn't— ah!” you gasp when his arms wrap around your middle, pulling you flush against his body as he tilts his head to better nestle into the crook of your neck.

“got me pissed off just seeing him looking at you like that,” his teeth graze against your skin when he sucks particularly hard, “gonna make sure he’ll get a nice and close look at these next time.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

kissing sakura is much, much different today.

he’s rough— hands trailing along your back, sending an shiver straight down your spine as he deepens the kiss, breaths mingling with urgency. the way he’s kissing you so desperately today has little gasps escaping your lips, which do nothing but encourage him to touch you more.

"f-fuck," he gasps between kisses, pulling back to inhale sharply before your fingers come to tangle in his hair, pulling him right back into you.

“someone's in a bad mood.” you giggle, and he scoffs in response, a dusting of pink over his cheeks. “‘m not mad.”

"you sure? what's got you so worked up?"

and he hates that he doesn't know. he doesn't know what this feeling is, so he has no idea how to get rid of it. all he knows is that it didn't feel nice when he saw your friend all up over you.

it should've been him instead— he thinks. and all he wants now is to have you.

your breath hitches in your throat when his lips begin to trace a path down your neck, pressing wet kisses between each inch of skin. “i don't know,” he admits through a deep blush, “just want…this.”

just thinking about the earlier events makes his blood boil again, and it shows in his next kiss. he accidentally sucks at your neck for a moment, and a lewd moan slips right through your lips.

your hand slaps over your mouth a moment too late, and he freezes in place, deep blush spreading to his ears at the sound. he’s never heard you never make that noise before.

"d-don't stop, sakura,” you urge, tugging at his hair, “feels good.”

he pulls back a bit to roughly shake his head, shake off the irritating blush before his eyes finally flicker towards the subtle mark he’s left on your skin. it’s a deep shade of purple, and something about it makes him feral— it scratches at the itch he’s had all day.

he doesn’t think he’ll be stopping anytime soon, at least.

“f-fine,” he growls, “turn your head.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME.

umemiya sighs when your phone buzzes again, the sound catching your attention as you scroll to check your messages again. you're leaning back against ume's chest when you open it, letting him rest his head on your shoulder with a dramatic pout.

"he's tryna steal you away from me," he whines, arms hugging tightly around your core. "s no fair."

how you were able to reduce bofurin's strongest— the one standing at a staggering 6’2 to a needy little puppy is beyond him. but in his defense, he thinks he's been waiting for your attention for ages by now.

it seems like the second you're finally putting down your phone to turn your attention to him is the exact moment your friend decides to send yet another message, your phone buzzing from the notification— and your attention shifts back to that guy just like that.

it's a never ending loop, and he's getting desperate.

“he's not, ume,” you mumble, fingers clicking at your screen. “he's just my friend. and he’s asking to get dinner with everyone tomorrow.”

you don't notice the way his bottom lip pokes out in a pout, eyes then narrowing into a glare directed at your screen before he's pulling you a bit closer to himself, arms holding you impossibly tighter against his chest.

it was really not fair.

it only takes a few more seconds of pouting before his eyes suddenly flicker to the bare skin of your neck, and he perks up when he thinks of an idea. a great idea.

“..you gonna go with them? tomorrow?”

you give him a nod, and if umemiya had a tail— it would be wagging now. his lips start to excitedly ghost over your skin, taking in the scent of your perfume, and his gaze is focused and intentional as he tries to gauge your reaction.

nothing, so far.

so he presses an experimental kiss onto your shoulder, eyes watching you closely— and still nothing. you only perk up a bit when he finally decides to proceed with his plan and takes the skin in his mouth, sucking at it for a bit before releasing it with a lewd pop.

"ume— d-did you just leave a mark?”

“i did,” he’s grinning now, staring at the mark he's left— and he thinks it's surprising dark for how gentle he was. it was only the first one tonight, after all.

“want another one?”

[shoyudon]

𝐈'𝐌 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 .ᐟ

them trying to make it up to you after forgetting your date.

starring. gojo, sukuna, toji x fem! reader

heads up. cursing, not everyone has a happy ending :D

tags. @dreamsarenicer @deftearzi @ninikrumbs @litlebruh

note. this is a continuation from "DOESN'T MATTER, I LEFT!" make sure to check it out to make sense of everything!

──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

gojo is far from miserable — if there was a word to describe a state worse than miserable, that is what gojo is feeling right now. he didn't know what to do besides the countless messages and calls he's sent out to you.

he's tried knocking on your apartment door for days, but to no avail, you refused to see him. telling him to go back home and to leave you alone. hell, gojo's even took a few days off from work, spending his day off trying to get you to talk to him face-to-face about everything.

"y/n," gojo knocks on your door, his head leaning onto the hard wooden surface — even without looking, you could tell how tired he is. the stress from work, from his relationship, everything; just falling apart, "i know you're in there, i can hear the tv show running."

you scoffed, leaning back onto the couch. gojo sighs out, banging his head gently onto the door, grunting out, "can we please talk about this . . ? you can't shut me out forever," he spoke.

and before he knew it, the door swung open, there you were; standing right in front of him. if looks could kill, the strongest would be six feet under, "stop coming over, you're not welcomed here, satoru. we don't need to talk about anything, i made it clear that you weren't ready for a relation—"

"you won't even listen to what i have to say about it?" gojo cuts you off, his brows furrowed; the creases between his brows deepening.

"no, i won't. i don't have to, you're not ready and you know it," you tell him, hand on the door and a hand on the doorway, looking at him calmly, "listen, go home. stop coming over, and stop trying to text me from different numbers."

"i am ready. i'm sorry for leaving you there, please let me make it up to you— i can't do this y/n. i'm really sorry, i fucked up. i just—" he looks at you desperately, his cerulean blue eyes doing all the conversation. gojo's never felt so weak before until now.

"can we please just talk about this . . ? i'll make it up to you, i promise — i just . . . right now i'm — can i just —" he rambles on in panic, his fatigue catching up to him, arms flailing around.

furrowing your brows, you eyed him, "what are you— satoru, calm down."

he inhaled sharply, "i just . . . i know i've been so caught up in work. please let me make it up to you, i took a few days off, please? can we talk about this? i don't want to break up with you, you're all i have . . ." gojo choked out, inhaling sharply at the end of his sentence.

"satoru, i don't know, okay? you're busy — yes. saving the world, saving people, saving everyone. i love you, i really do—"

"why are you breaking up with me then . . ?" gojo whispers out softly, brows furrowed, his pupils looking everywhere in panic and discomfort, "why are you breaking up with me if you love me? i'll do better, i promise."

"just — do better. 'm not going to accept you right now, show me you can do better and we'll see." well, that was better than a straight up no, gojo nodded his head vigorously.

"okay, okay. that's good, i promise. i'll be better, i'll be better," he whispers, unconsciously clutching onto your hands.

──────〃★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

teaching sukuna to operate a phone might be one of the most regretful thing you did. waking up to more than forty missed calls and thirty voice mails wasn't the most exciting things in the world — especially with his voicemails being cursing contents because h didn't know if his previous voice mails went through or not.

"why is it that mortals use this rectangle— did my voice go through?" was almost in everything, a few voicemails containing questions like asking to meet up face to face to communicate about everything that had been going on; much to his disdain.

one to which you finally replied to after two days. figuring it was going to be better if you made it clear to him that you no longer wanted anything to do with him.

sitting on a coffee shop, you stared at him, "i'll say this one time, stop contacting me, i have nothing else i want to do with you in the future. so refrain from sending me more voicemails or missed calls," sukuna scoffs, looking into your eyes.

"you're leaving over three hours?" he snarkily commented, more aggressive than he wanted it to come out or intended, "did i not say that i would book another place? i was caught up in another matter."

if you could just pass out out of disbelief right now, you would. it was honestly a shame that sukuna had to make matters worst with his comments, "are you — look, i've listened enough. and i want nothing else to do with you right now, nor do i want anything to do with you in the future. so please, i am ending things between us right now. i deserve better than this, and you know it."

sukuna clenched his jaw, clearly furious with how everything is turning out to be. i mean; being the king of curses, he expects everything to go his way. and currently, it wasn't.

"take that back, you are not 'breaking up' with me," he mutters out in annoyance.

"sukuna, yes, i am breaking up with you." he narrowed his eyes when you called him 'sukuna' instead of 'ryo' like you always do. sukuna never liked it when people addressed him by 'ryo', but with you — he had grown so accustomed that it felt odd hearing the word 'sukuna' escape your throat.

"don't address me as such."

"it is your name, no?" he clenched his fists in annoyance, "i've said what i need to say. stop calling me and stop sending me useless voicemails, i won't change my mind. and i won't indulge in this relationship anymore. you think three hours is a short time? i made myself a fool in front of the whole place."

"did i not tell you that i had matters to attend to? you're being a bit childish, no?"

"if breaking up with you over disrespect is childish, consider me childish then," you told him and stood up, "goodbye."

──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

"i know you're in there, open the door," toji banged on your door just an hour after you ended both your relationship and the call, "woman, open this door before i break it in."

he sighs out loudly, looking around — he felt like a burglar, standing on your porch menacingly. toji knocks again, "so that's it? you're just going to throw away everything? not talk to me about it? i never agreed to breakin' up with you."

he stares at the door as it swung open just before his eyes, his eyes falling on your figure, "so, you're finally ready to talk about this?" he scoffs, crossing his arms, "listen, i forgot, i fucked up and y' definitely aren't happy."

"ha ha. no shit, toji. you waste my time and my efforts, all you can say is that you fucked up and that you'll make it up to me?" you tell him calmly, leaning on your door, "you think that's enough for the constant disappointment you made me feel? you fucked up? you'll make it up to me? you didn't even say sorry."

toji furrowed his brows, inhaling sharply, "what do you want me to do?"

"what do i want you to do is leave me alone, and let me break up with you, because i'm so tired of you constantly telling me you fucked up instead of you're sorry. which is a big difference and i'm actually making a big deal out of it. i don't deserve this, you know?"

he shakes his head, "no, don't do that breakin' up fuckery with me. i'll do anythin' to make it up to you."

"make it up to me by letting me break up with you, that's all i want. you're not ready for a serious and committed relationship, and i'm not going to be the scapegoat for your constant mishaps. i'm tired of having to lie to myself that you're trying your best to be a good boyfriend when you make mistakes like this over and over again. it's ridiculous, toji."

toji blinked his eyes, looking at you, "no. it's a mistake, i fuckin' promise you. it just went over me — i knew i was missing something, and i thought —"

"toji. i've talked to you about this same mistake countless of times, and it went over your head again? and again? 'm tired, okay. can you just leave me alone, we had what we had, we had our time, and well, nothing lasts forever. do better next time with someone else," you tell him, getting ready to shut the door.

but of course, he wasn't really going to take this closure from you, slipping in his foot to stop the door from completely shutting, "move your foot, toji," you sigh out.

"you can't just sum it up like this, i don't wanna break up," he sighs out, "i know i fucked up, again. can't you give me another chance or somethin'? i'll make it up to you."

"i gave you more chances than i should've. bye, toji," you pushed his foot away and shut the door, ending the conversation.

© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !

[pinkflower2003]

Mi Hijo (My Boy)

Pairing: Fernando Alonso x reader

Requested: no - i love a bit of papa nando content

Fernando had always dreamed of being a father, but racing had always taken over, taken over everything. That was until he had met you and your little boy. When he had met the two of you, you were a single mother, your ex-boyfriend walking out on the two of you before Finn had even been born, all Finn had known was Fernando, as far as your son was concerned Fernando was his Nando and that was all he needed.

There had always been scrutiny of Fernando dating a single mother, but he had always stood up for you, always defended you. He brought you to every race, brought your son to every race, buying him every piece of Aston Martin merchandise and you and your son loved it. You supported him every step of the way, and he loved you and your son unconditionally.

Father’s Day, whilst it was a day you had celebrated each with Fernando, it was never a massive celebration, with Fernando not wanting fuss, he knew he wasn’t Finn’s dad and would never want to push himself to be known as such without yours or Finn’s permission. But this year was different, he just didn’t know it yet.

Father's Day dawned with a vibrant sun peeking through the curtains of your cosy apartment. You could hear the soft patter of Finn’s tiny feet as he shuffled around his room. At four years old, he was already a bundle of energy, especially today. Today was special.

"Mummy, is it time yet?" Finn asked, his eyes wide with excitement as he peered into your bedroom wearing his favourite spiderman pyjamas.

"Almost, sweetie," you replied, smiling at his enthusiasm. "We have to make sure everything is perfect before we wake up Nando."

You had already prepared breakfast: pancakes shaped like race cars, scrambled eggs, and freshly squeezed orange juice. Finn had insisted on making a card, which he had decorated with colorful drawings of them as a family. But the most important part of the plan was still a secret, hidden in an envelope that you kept close to your heart.

"Alright, let's go wake him up," you whispered conspiratorially, taking Finn’s hand. You both tiptoed down the hallway to Fernando’s room. Finn could barely contain his excitement as you gently pushed open the door.

"Nando, wake up!" Finn shouted, jumping onto the bed. Fernando stirred, a smile forming on his lips even before he opened his eyes. He reached out, pulling Finn into a warm hug.

"Good morning, mi hijo" Fernando said, his voice still thick with sleep. He looked up to see you standing by the bed, her eyes sparkling with love.

"Happy Father’s Day, my love," you said softly, leaning down to kiss him. Fernando’s heart swelled, he had always felt appreciated by the two, you both always showed him how much you loved him and were thankful for the life he had come to give you, but today seemed to go the extra mile.

"Thank you," he said, sitting up and ruffling Finn’s hair. "What’s all this?” Looking questioningly, thinking this was more of a big effort than any father’s day before.

"Breakfast and presents!" Finn exclaimed. "Come on, come on!"

They led Fernando to the kitchen, where the table was set with the special breakfast. Fernando’s eyes widened at the sight of the race car pancakes.

"Did you make these, Finn?" he asked, genuinely impressed.

"Mummy helped," Finn admitted. "But I did the drawings on your card all by myself!"

Fernando took the card from Finn’s outstretched hands, his heart melting as he saw the crayon drawings of the three of them. He opened it to find a heartfelt message from Finn, thanking him for being the best Nando in the world. Fernando felt a lump in his throat as he read the words.

"This is beautiful, Finn. Thank you," Fernando said, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled Finn into a tight hug. "I love you, buddy."

"I love you too, my Nando," Finn replied, his small arms wrapped around Fernando’s neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Y/N captured the moment on her phone, tears brimming in her eyes. But the biggest surprise was yet to come.

"Finn, do you want to give Nando your present now?" Y/N asked, winking at her son.

Finn nodded eagerly and ran to the living room, returning with a large envelope. He handed it to Fernando, bouncing on his toes in anticipation.

Fernando looked curiously at Y/N before carefully opening the envelope. Inside, he found a set of documents. His eyes scanned the first few lines, and his breath caught in his throat.

"These are... adoption papers," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked up at Y/N, his eyes wide with astonishment and love.

Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes, crouching down next to her son. “Baby, do you have something you want to ask Nando?”

Finn climbed into Fernando’s lap, looking up at him with those big, innocent eyes. "Nando, will you be my papa?" he asked, shy, his voice small but full of hope.

Fernando felt his heart shatter and mend all at once. He had always loved Finn as his own, but this – this made it real. He pulled Finn close, holding him tightly as tears slipped down his cheeks, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"Yes, Finn. Yes, I will be your papa," Fernando choked out, his voice trembling with emotion. "I would be honored."

Finn giggled with joy, hugging Fernando with all his might. Y/N joined them, wrapping her arms around both of them in a warm embrace. She kissed Fernando softly, whispering, "Thank you for loving us."

“Thank you for having me.”

[slasherbvnnie]

Bewitched

Mattheo Riddle has a secret girlfriend, it's even secret to her

Reader isn't in a particular house, implies they're not in Slytherin. Reader and all characters mentioned are 18+ and in college! Hogwarts. Probably will be a spicy part 2 ;)

Modern!Harry Potter AU, College!Mattheo Riddle, College!Hogwarts AU

Questions first began to arise before one of Slytherin’s quidditch matches last month, particularly when Mattheo was changing into his uniform and Draco noticed the scratches down his back. The boys teased him over it, questioning him on who was the lucky girl who made them. Mattheo just smiled on and let them try to decipher who it was from his giggles at each attempt they gave.

On the other end, questions circled around you when your friends first began to notice the hickeys that littered your neck, blushed cheeks and meek responses when your friends pressed on knowing who mauled their friend.

It’s not that you were purposely hiding who they were from, you just didn’t want to say who it was from until both of you knew what you were to each other. Mattheo had been there during a party hosted by Gryffindor, things moved pretty quickly that night when you set your eyes on him. He was pleasantly surprised the new transfer student had her gaze set on him, so much so that he didn’t reject her whispers about going back to his secluded prefect dorm. There were some more nights after the first, some more innocent than others, but there was never one important question asked from either side.

You didn’t know if the Mattheo Riddle was open to a relationship, Mattheo Riddle had simply thought you two were already together in his own world. He just simply didn’t kiss and tell.

While you sat in the stands waiting for the quidditch match to start, you were brought to attention when Cormac McLaggen sat next to you. “Excited for the game?” You questioned him as he chuckled, “if its not my own, not much,” he joked as you smiled. “Why aren’t you with the others? I’m sure the rest of your team are betting against Zacharias,” you hummed.

He grinned, “my bets are always against whoever Malfoy is against, doesn’t play fair,” he said before continuing on. “I wanted to spend some time with you for the game, if that’s okay,” he said as your eyes widened in surprise.

“Me?”

“That’s not a problem, is it?” He asked as you shook your head no. “Of course not, I just, well I noticed you talking with Hannah Abbot recently and I assumed…” your voiced trailed off as you looked away for a moment.

“She…ah, we’ve been comparing notes recently. She wants to get in good standing with Slughorn, she says the club seems like fun,” he admitted as you nodded.

“So there's-“

“Nothing between us two, I assure you,” he said with a smile.

Before you turned back to look at Cormac, you noticed the familiar head of curls staring directly at you two. Even from all the way out in the field, you could feel the death glare Mattheo was giving to Cormac. It surprised you, as Mattheo had never shown interest in any others talking to you before, but he now seemed distracted as they were beginning to set up for the match.

You hadn’t waited to talk after the match was over, Cormac walked you back to your dorm after, saying goodbye to you after telling him how you needed to study for your potions exam. He promised to send a letter later that night, to plan an outing in Hogsmeade on the weekend but when the hours passed and no letter was slipped under your door you grew curious.

It wasn’t until one of your roommates came in, going over to your desk. “Be glad we aren’t in slytherin, lost a hundred points earlier,” she said as you looked up from your notebook. “How come?” You asked as you set down your pen.

“Riddle sent McLaggen to Madam Pomfrey,” she said as you stared at her, quickly getting up from your seat.

“Did you hear why?” You asked her as you grabbed your cardigan, put it on quickly, and went to put on your shoes.

“No, but I did hear he spent the afternoon with you. Is Mattheo the one who gave you all those hickeys?” She asked as you rolled your eyes.

“I am not the reason they fought,” you said as you went to the door. “Where’s Riddle now?” You questioned as she took a seat on her bed. “Back in the Slytherin common room, I heard Dumbledore is questioning taking him off the team,” she said as you huffed, opening the door and heading to the dungeons.

When you made it past the password ridden door, you looked around before you saw Pansy taking care of Mattheo’s knuckles as she was scolding him. “Pomfrey said I was ok, Pans,” he grumbled. You made your way over to the couch he was sat on, his eyes on you when he noticed you were near.

“Why are you here?” He asked, “we have an exam tomorrow, you’re always busy the night before,” he said as Pansy looked between you two, dropping Mattheo’s hand as you looked him over.

“I heard what you did, I wanted to know why McLaggen is nearly in a coma from you,” you said, knowing you were exaggerating it a little. Mattheo only laughed as he stood from the couch, heading to his dorm. “It should be obvious as to why,” he said, anger laced in his words. “Obvious?” You questioned as you followed him.

“Yes, I thought it was very clear why. Why else would I risk being kicked off the team?” He stated as he walked faster.

“You are at risk with every fight you’re in. This isn’t even your first fight this month!” You reasoned as he let out a bitter chuckle. “Why did you fight with him, Mattheo? You won today’s game! So why are you so angry?” you questioned him as he stopped and turned to you.

His eyes were watery despite the angered look on his face, “I am angry because my girlfriend is entertaining other guys wanting to go on dates with her when she doesn’t even go with me,” he said as he stared down at you.

“Girlfriend?” You asked, a bit taken back and hurt by his words. You weren’t aware he had a girlfriend. “You never told me you had a girlfriend,” you said, backing away from him.

He blinked, eyebrows burrowed in confusion as he looked down at you. “you’re- you’re the girlfriend. You know that…right?”

You gave him a bewildered look, “me?” you questioned, just as confused as him.

“Yes. I wouldn’t- merlin, I wouldn’t cheat.” He groaned, bringing a hand up to his face, pinching the space between his eyebrows.

“You’ve never asked me to be your girlfriend,” you said, trying to remember if there was a time that he forgot about.

“You have been the only girl I’ve seen for the past month,” he explained. “I thought, I thought when you kept coming back that it meant you were mine.” He said as you shook your head.

“I just thought it was a mutual understanding,”

“An understanding?”

“You know, like, friends with benefits. You never said otherwise. We’ve never been on dates! Even Cormac at least wanted to go on a date,” you said, Mattheo’s face twitching at the mention of another.

“I was going to take you for our anniversary,”

“What anniversary Mattheo? We are not dating!” You explained as he frowned, turning away from you now.

“We aren’t dating,” he said, nodding as he continued to his dorm. “You can have your date at the infirmary with McLaggen then,” he huffed out.

“Mattheo! Mattheo!” You called out, following behind him. You reached for his arm before he quickly shook your hand off.

“Mattheo, I don’t understand,”

The dark haired boy turned around, getting close to your face now. “You seek me out just for fun, come to my dorm nearly every night that you aren’t studying and you think I did not develop feelings for you? On the nights we don’t spend in my dorm, I spend all night in the astronomy tower, in the common room, at the Black Lake, anywhere you want to go for the night. I’ve shared with you about my father and his expectations and you’ve told me about your life and interests and how school was before your transfer and you just think I see you as some girl I only use for sex?” He asked, looking deep into your eyes, his own angered and burning with tears.

“You think I would risk losing my spot on the team over some girl I don’t care about?”

A lump formed in your throat, tears filling your eyes as you stared into his. “Mattheo..” you croaked out, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You haven’t known me for long but I never thought you would take me for someone like that,” He said as he scoffed, almost turned around before you reached for his arm, looking up to him.

“I never, I just thought… I- I don’t know what I thought,” you said slowly.

His face softened, looking away from you for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Mattheo. I just figured, maybe you didn’t want a girlfriend, or that… I don’t know. I truly thought you just wanted to be friends with benefits,” you admitted to him as he nodded.

“I never asked because I was afraid you’d reject me,” he said softly, looking down. “You’re smart and sweet, I thought once you knew about my family, my father…you’d run away,”

“You are not your father,” you said as you looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have said no,” you hummed, catching his attention.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t have a potions partner if I did,” you teased as he chuckled.

“You really needed to study tonight,” he mumbled before he moved your hand from his hand, lacing his fingers between yours. “I’m sorry for making assumptions,”

“I’m sorry for never asking how you felt,” you said in return, making him shake his head.

“Well….since we’re already here…I do know a way we can make it up to each other,” he said with a smirk, you rolled your eyes.

“You just told me I needed to study,” you said as he grinned, “you do, you still can. I can quiz you,” he said as he leaned in closer.

“You also need to study,” you reminded him as he chuckled. “You’ve been hanging with Granger too much,” he teased as he walked with you, opening the door to his room. “We can study tonight, but tomorrow if you pass, I know a special reward I can give you,” he said as he kissed your neck.

“A reward for me? Sounds like it’s a reward for you,” you mused as he gently bit your neck.

“Are you saying I don’t treat you well? I’ll have to remind you,” he hummed against your skin, making you shiver.

“Down boy, time to study,” you said as you walked over to his desk. He smirked, looking at you before grabbing his books and placing them in front of you. “Go ahead, study,” he hummed sinking onto his knees in front of you. “I’ll be enjoying myself, perks of the top potions student,” he grinned.

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: you’re used to me disappearing for months but I hope by now you can trust that I’ll always come back x

warnings: reader is a victim of misogyny (aren’t we all)

In A World Of Boys

Doctor Spencer Reid. His name alone sends your heart thrumming as the elevator ascends, your shoes tapping against the metal ground with excitement and impatience in equal measure. It isn’t unusual for a case to have called the team in at the crack of dawn, but that was not something you ever imagined you’d actively look forward to. Then again, you couldn’t have counted on the sunrise casting a soft pink, almost heavenly glow to illuminate the office that seemed to converge around one man in particular the moment you saw him.

He approaches you with a warm smile, one mug held to his lips and another held in an outstretched hand, for you. Made just the way you liked it; not that you ever verbalized such details, someone’s eidetic memory just thought to pay attention to how you prepared your hot drinks until it was a task that could be taken off your hands entirely.

“Good morning.” Spencer greets you, a playful lilt in his voice at just how early this morning is.

“Morning, and cheers.” You share a light chuckle as you clink your mugs together in a gesture of soft comradery, your gazes locking as you take a simultaneous sip.

Such a thing is officially a symbol of trust, but the look in Spencer’s eyes is enough to hold you still if the ground was ripped out from beneath you. His curls are a little disheveled, as always, and his tie is as crooked as ever. Ruggedly handsome would be an accurate description, if you didn’t know Spencer better than that, know him to be so much gentler than such a roughened description. And your heart sings for him.

A tradition you’ve come to appreciate amongst the BAU during longer flights is sharing stories of their shared pasts. The tales are typically hilarious at the expense of one team member or another, but it is all in jest, and as the newest member of the team, you love hearing about their funniest moments from before you had known the people who have welcomed you so openly.

“Oh, we have to talk about the pool incident! What was her name, Spence?” JJ asks with a mischievous glint in her eye, the team’s attention pulled entirely to Spencer.

You can’t withhold the shocked expression on your face, you’ve not heard of any previous romantic encounters in Spencer’s life; this should be interesting.

“It was Lila, wasn’t it? C’mon, Spence, it’s been years, you can tell us now!” JJ presses, the rest of the team egging her on, but you stay quiet, your interest piqued to the extent that you can’t utter a word.

“Lila was an admirably strong woman, but as much as I hate to disappoint, there’s really nothing more to tell.” Spencer shrugs, smile unreadable.

In his former years, such a question would have flustered him, but not anymore. His answer is enough to fluster you, however. A man who doesn’t kiss and tell, and is so quietly firm in such a resolve, is one to keep in mind.

As if to make matters worse, Spencer then rises from his seat on the jet and strolls past you, making the effort to lean away from you - in case any sudden turbulence should unsteady him, he won’t risk even nudging you - on his journey to the galley. And the way he walks, the delicate trail of his cologne lingering in his wake when he passes your seat, it’s dizzying.

This is a moment that you know you will never forget, and you can’t help envying the fact that Spencer can so effortlessly recall every moment spent with you in the depths of eidetic memory. It’s almost ritualistic, how you lie in bed every night and replay your most treasured moments with Spencer, to send yourself to a peaceful sleep in which you hope to dream of him. Part of you wonders if he ever replays moments with you in his mind, with more clarity than you can ever hope to possess.

Little do you know, you are his favorite film.

On nights when insomnia strikes, you are the guaranteed remedy. When it is for you, Spencer’s eidetic memory is nothing short of a gift. He has a library dedicated to you, containing every look in your eyes, every micro-expression, every variation of your laugh, your smile, every word you have ever said in his presence. Sometimes, it takes him hours to decide which memory of you he’ll replay before he allows himself to sleep.

Neither of you are aware of how many nights you have spent lying awake in the same hours, focussing on the very same memories. While you absentmindedly play with the little flower charm on the necklace that Spencer bought you for your birthday, his gaze will drift to the special edition of Frankenstein that you bought him, for no reason other than it made you think of him. Of course, Spencer already had a copy, but the one from you lives on his bedside table. He had the edition completely memorized in a matter of minutes, but he has devoted more time to rereading that book than he has any other, because you gifted it to him. Sometimes, Spencer traces the spine and wonders where you’d held it before gifting it to him; if that will be as close as he ever comes to the blessing of one day holding your hand.

One of your most vivid memories with Spencer - and one that you frequently use to fall asleep with a smile on your face - first came to be during your second week working with the team. You didn’t know Spencer very well then, but you knew enough to be besotted by him; you knew that from the moment his eyes first met yours. A case required an undercover mission centered around you, as the only member of the team to fit the unsub’s type. While you could have handled the mission on your own, Spencer insisted that he be placed undercover inside the club you were set to enter, posing as a member of the public, to ensure you had immediate backup if you needed it. The undercover mission itself went without a hitch, though Spencer spent the duration of it trying his very best not to crush the glass he pretended to nurse in his hand as he watched the unsub flirt with you mercilessly, and without an ounce of respect. When the unsub was arrested and dragged out of the bar, you and Spencer followed, and he went to one of the government-issued vehicles to grab his FBI jacket for you while advising you to stand in the doorway and wait. He didn’t want you getting cold in your pretty dress, but that was a detail he kept to himself.

As you stood in the doorway, leaning against a wall with your arms crossed over your chest, the wind caught the thigh-high slit in your dress, exposing the skin of your thigh only momentarily, but it was enough for some sleazy, drunk middle-aged man to leer out you.

“Sexy lady!” He had called out to you in a slurred voice, opening his arms to you, beer bottle in hand.

And, as every woman has learnt to do, you gave him your best, tight lipped, polite smile.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” You answered as evenly as you could.

In an instant, the sleaze’s smirk was gone, replaced with an almost disgusted frown.

“Stupid slut.” He muttered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear him, but in the time it took for your eyes to widen, Spencer had pinned the man’s hands behind his back and sent the beer bottle shattering on the ground - collateral damage from shoving the sleaze into the nearest wall.

“You are under arrest for drunk and disorderly behaviour, as well as sexual harassment, and absolutely any other charge I can find when I dig up every morsel of your existence.” Spencer’s words were eerily quiet, but they were sharper than any you’d ever heard, dripping with a venom you didn’t imagine he was capable of possessing then.

After tossing the drunk misogynist into the back of one of the police cars still on the scene from your undercover mission, Spencer walked over to you and draped his FBI jacket over your shoulders, tugging it around you with a gentleness that completely juxtaposed what you had just witnessed.

“I’m sorry.” He’d said quietly, warranting a confused frown from you, that urged him to elaborate. “I’m sorry that you were treated in such an abhorrent way, and that you had to see me like that.”

Your frown melted into an adoring smile. “Spencer, you’ve got nothing to apologize for. Thank you for defending me from a man that I doubt realizes he even did anything wrong. While he might be the scum of the earth, you-” You gently poked his chest through his shirt, “-are a gentleman.”

Spencer had thought then that his heart couldn’t possibly soar higher than that, but oh, how wrong he had been.

Coincidentally, one of Spencer’s favorite memories of you is one you can recall very little of. It was the only occasion on which Spencer had politely declined the team’s invitation to a local bar for drinks in an evening. He had been rereading the copy of Frankenstein you’d bought him, comfortably nestled on his couch with a lingering smile as he sought pieces of you in between the lines of text, when his phone rang.

Seeing your name, Spencer picked up in a microsecond.

“(Y/N)? Is everything alright?” His mind was immediately reeling. Had something happened? Were you safe?

A sniffle came through the phone, and his heart shattered.

“Jus’ so lonely.” Your voice was slurred by the alcohol you’d consumed, but in the sweetest way. Your words did little to ease the anxiety swirling in Spencer’s mind, because every time he had seen you drink, you had been the giggliest mess he’d ever known; you had never been the stereotypical sad-drunk, as far as he knew.

“Lonely? Aren’t you at the bar with the team?” He questioned, because he could hear other voices in the background of the call and alarm bells were ringing. Had the rest of the team left? Or, worse, had you drunkenly wandered off somewhere and gotten lost? He was already putting his shoes on and grabbing a jacket.

“Yeah, but they’re not you.” There was an urgency and an aching sadness to your words, Spencer could hear it even through the distortion of a phone call, and your words stumped him. He blinked once, then twice, before replying.

“Well, no, they aren’t me.”

He felt that had been an obvious distinction, but perhaps you needed him to make that clear in your drunken state.

An equally dramatic and exasperated sigh came through the phone. “I know that, and that’s why I’m sad. I miss you!”

Spencer was out of his apartment door in record time, racing down the stairs until he reached the parking lot beneath his building.

“You miss me? Really?” He had asked you because he wanted to hear you say it again, he had to, the smile on his face growing exponentially.

“Lots.” Your voice broke on that one word, and it was enough for Spencer to risk several speeding tickets to reach you in a time he would never, ever tell you, because you’d lecture him about road safety. Perhaps someday he will tell you, just to hear you speak to him for a prolonged period of time, even if it’s a lecture at the expense of his reckless adoration.

By the time Spencer arrived at the bar, you were a blubbering mess in Rossi’s arms. It was only when you were transferred to Spencer’s arms that your drunk mind registered his presence, and the sheer joy on your face despite your tears was something he knew would be his only remaining memory if he lost everything else in some freak accident. Amidst your incoherent mumblings of compliments and praises towards Spencer - each and every one under lock and key in his heart ever since - he carried you back to his car and drove you home with your body wrapped almost entirely around his arm from where you sat in the passenger seat of his car. Once at your house, he carried you to the door bridal style, lowering you temporarily so that you could clumsily unlock your front door, before he picked you back up again and carried you inside, all the way to your bed. And there, he laid you down, slipped your shoes off, tucked you into bed, and wiped your face with your skincare products efficiently, from what you’d told him of your nightly routine. He fetched you a glass of water and sat you up to drink the whole thing, then refilled it and set it on your bedside table - in case you woke up thirsty in the night, or if you needed it first thing in the morning. Lying you back down, he left a little kiss on your forehead, and due to your eyes being closed, he assumed you were already falling asleep, until you reached for his hand when he tried to go.

“Stay.” You pleaded in a barely-conscious and far-from-sober tone.

Spencer smiled at you like you were the stars in the sky.

“Alright.” He almost whispered, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, while you laid under your covers, practically curled around where he sat.

With one of his hands on your shoulder, Spencer sat with you, spelling out words you’d never register on the back of your shoulder blade with his thumb and index finger.

So beautiful.

Everything.

To be yours.

And as his thumb curved the last letter “s” on the back of your hand, Spencer heard your breathing settle to a rate that told him you were dreaming. Very slowly, he tucked you under the bedcovers, stood himself up, and left, but not before leaving you with a message he intended for you to comprehend later. You had not consented to Spencer staying the night with you, and you were in no position to give that consent in your state, but you had asked him to stay, so he stayed until you wouldn’t know that he’d gone.

The next morning, you awoke to a little note on your bedside table that simply said:

Good morning, angel. Please drink some water and let me know you survived drinking enough alcohol to fill the Hoover Dam (not literally, that’s not biologically possible).

-Spencer x

It was enough to make you laugh, and despite your immediate pounding headache, you reached for your phone.

You: hahaha, very funny. thank you so much for last night, I’m sorry for the mess ❤️

And, to your accustomed surprise, Spencer started typing back immediately.

Spencer: I’m glad that you survived to enjoy my joke. You are always welcome, and you have nothing to apologize for.

You went to set your phone down on your bedside table again, when it lit up with another text.

Spencer: ❤️

Surviving the alcohol you consumed was nothing compared to the way you had to fight for your life upon receiving that.

That morning, when you were called into the office for a case, you’d expected to be greeted with an onslaught of teasing from your coworkers, but Spencer had enough time before you arrived to plead with the rest of the team not to embarrass you. Surprisingly, they had agreed, but on one condition: Spencer had to do something about his workplace crush, because the rest of the team were losing their patience with the tension between you. To save you the embarrassment, Spencer sacrificed his own dignity in agreeing to that, and it’s been hanging over his head ever since.

The clouds beneath the jet serve as an interesting background to your thoughts, your headphones blocking out any and all sound beyond your music. You are away in your own little world, save for the part of your brain that is acutely aware of your elbow touching Spencer’s with the only barrier being your jacket and his. Does he spend as much time dwelling on these things? Does he ever wonder, like you do, that this connection between you could amount to something else, something more, if either of you were willing to take the risk? The risk is, in itself, a great one. While the risks surrounding any love in general are an obvious factor, in your shared field of work, that is exacerbated. Neither of you can explicitly trust that you would be able to act professionally if the other was harmed in any way, and you could bear witness to any degree of harm against the other while in the field. If that wasn’t enough, should it not work out, you would have no choice but to leave your dream job to work and live elsewhere, uprooting the life you’ve built here in its entirety; while Spencer would stay with the family he has worked with for so many years, the building would never feel the same to him without you in it. Whoever took your desk after you, he would be unable to withhold a small amount of resentment towards - he would never act on it, but he would feel it. And the guilt of being with him having caused you to have to restart your life somewhere else? That is a weight he is terrified of carrying. So many have faced worse fates as a result of getting close to Spencer, but when it comes to you, he cannot think of any worse than that, or his chest will start to hurt.

Perhaps this case is the perfect opportunity, he wonders to himself while a female cop converses with him, barely occupying even half of Spencer’s brain as he focuses on thoughts of you.

“I think it’s great you guys have come down here to help us!” The local cop grins up at Spencer.

A case in Vegas, where he could use some time once the case is closed to show you some of his favorite places. You’d like that, he thinks.

“Thank you, we’re always happy to help when requested.” Spencer answers casually.

But from the little office you’re working in, you can see the way that local cop is ogling at Spencer, and you feel a twinge of jealousy. It was only a few minutes ago you were looking at the hazel in his eyes up close in the same way she currently is, but you like to think you’re a little less obvious than that. You are not.

“Some of these guys, you can tell they don’t know what they’re doing, but you definitely do, don’t you? I’ve heard the rest of your team calling you a genius!” The local cop babbles to Spencer, eyes like an animal in heat.

Perhaps a tour of the casino’s? But a certain card-counting ability resulting in a certain state-wide ban would make that somewhat difficult. That probably wouldn’t be a very good date. Would it be a date? Spencer wonders, before he shrugs, feeling a little awkward.

“I don’t believe intelligence can be accurately quantified given its diversity in both person and circumstance, but I appreciate your faith in the BAU, who I’d better get back to. Thanks.” With that, he steps away from the officer, thinking nothing of the conversation given that his focus had been elsewhere for the duration of it.

You, however, cannot let it go. To your detriment, you assume a seasoned profiler like Spencer can read flirtatious intent a mile off (his unreliable grasp on social cues begs to differ) and from a distance, it didn’t look to you that he outright rejected the advances of another woman (his unreliable grasp on social cues left him unaware there were even advances to reject), and that left you feeling…upset. You had thought your relationship with Spencer to be special, that he didn’t reject the warm, sweet tension between the two of you because he liked you, specifically, but if he didn’t reject the flirtations of another woman, are you just a more regular occurrence of what she offered him?

Little do you know, if Spencer heard your thoughts suggest he only merely “liked” you, he may very well go into cardiac arrest under the pressure of the weight to correct you, adamantly. There is not a string of words in his vocabulary to adequately describe what he feels for you, and to imply “like” conveys them is salt in the wound you cause in his heart for each day you’re not his.

Naturally, for the rest of the day you are accompanied by a cloud hanging over your head to consistently remind you of that very same fact - that you are not Spencer’s. It is hardly surprising you do everything in your power to avoid him, offering to assist every member of the team with whatever task they’re doing to take you out of his reach and prevent him from talking to you. Of course, you know he’ll notice, and you’ll apologize when you’ve recovered enough to not cry at the thought of him, but for tonight are destined to bury yourself in hotel bedcovers that you partially hope suffocate you into unconsciousness to save you further torment.

Most unfortunately for you, only an hour into your tears, there is a soft knock at your hotel room door. By now, you are beyond the point of being able to hide the extent to which you have already cried, so you formulate a number of excuses pertaining to allergies or hormones on your way to the door. All of those lies evaporate on opening your door to find Spencer standing there, looking down at you with pleading eyes that quite frankly make you want to launch yourself from your hotel room window.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, (Y/N), I just came by to-“ His eyes widen. “You’ve been crying.”

It’s not a question; Spencer knows you well enough to not need to doubt himself when he reads your physical tells.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Did you need something?” You brush off his concern, hoping to distract him with whatever his original reason for coming here was - it wouldn’t be the first time Spencer materialized in your presence to ask your opinion of something obscure or a social situation he was uncertain of because he felt comfortable enough to come to you about it, you just wanted to get this over with so that you could return to your crying pit.

“I- what? Don’t worry about it? You’ve been crying, of course I’ll worry about that! Extensively!” Spencer exclaims, his voice rising in pitch slightly with his distress, before he clears his throat. “I came by to check on you because your behavior today confused me, and it appears I was right to be concerned.” Seeing the apprehension on your face, Spencer is quick to amend the question he was going to ask. “If you’d prefer not to talk about it, I understand and won’t pressure you, but please don’t force yourself to suffer alone if you can help it. There’s nothing I’d rather listen to than you.”

The sincerity in Spencer’s words brings fresh tears to your eyes, and it’s physically painful to look away from him and stare at the doorframe.

“It’s nothing, Spencer, just getting in my head about things that-“ You begin, and in a moment that is completely unlike his usually overly-polite self, he interrupts you.

“Is it something I did?” He asks, his eyes widening with the same plea as before.

Spencer’s question surprises you so much that you hesitate to answer him, only for a second before your lips part again, but your delay is enough of an answer to him.

“(Y/N), please tell me I did so that I can fix this. I don’t understand- I’ve already gone over our every interaction over the past 48 hours, 30 times each, and I’m not smart enough to have been unable to determine a conclusion on my own. Please tell me.” Spencer begs, his voice hoarse with the weight of having hurt your feelings without ever intending to.

Knowing he isn’t going to forgive himself without an explanation and that he’ll see through any lie you give him now, you are left without a choice.

“That cop you spoke to today, was she flirting with you?” The words fall from your lips freely, and Spencer blinks.

Once, twice, then a third time.

“Which…female officer? In the past 8 hours I have spoken to three.” He asks so carefully, like he’s walking on glass.

You have to resist rolling your eyes, because you know Spencer isn’t being clueless on purpose, but it doesn’t ease your pain.

“Just after midday, the one who was looking up at you like you were the best thing she’d seen all day.” Now, you can’t resist rolling your eyes; an involuntary reaction that makes Spencer frown in confusion.

“The conversation consisted of her thanking us for assisting them with the case and enquiring as to whether I’m a genius- to which I said I don’t think intelligence can be accurately quantified, and that was it.” Spencer has never been more confused in his entire life. He feels there is something obvious staring him right in his face and he is mortified at being completely blind to it, but he is treading very carefully over this invisible minefield.

“She was flirting with you, Spencer, didn’t you see the way she was looking at you?” Trying to read his expression and only finding confusion is not helping.

“I wasn’t really looking at her.” Spencer answers truthfully, because his eyes had been glazed over as he thought of places he could show you while in Vegas, where posed the highest probability of a successful date, should you accept the offer he had every intention of presenting you with.

“You didn’t notice…” You murmur, your heart sinking in your chest.

You had been upset that Spencer hadn’t rejected the advances of another woman under the presumption he understood her advances, but if he truly did not when she was being so obvious, he most likely doesn’t notice yours, either. He hasn’t been reciprocating the energy you thought was between you for that reason, he’s just been continuing the conversation without a clue. A lump forms in your thought.

Meanwhile, Spencer is even more confused.

“I’m not certain I understand what the issue is. Was it the flirting? Or the fact I didn’t register it? Should I have?” He is lost and in desperate need of guidance. As soon as he knows what he’s done to upset you, he’ll beg on his knees for your forgiveness, but at this time he is still unable to determine the problem. If you had not realized he didn’t acknowledge the flirting until now, that couldn’t be the issue, but if the issue was simply that he’d been flirted with, you now knowing he wasn’t aware of it would have fixed that - so why do you look more upset? This just in: Doctor Spencer Reid loathes social cues.

“Do you notice when anyone flirts with you?” Answering his question with your own question is only sending him further into a spiral.

You are the only person he ever wishes would flirt with him, but Spencer is absolutely convinced you never would. If he answers “no” to your rephrased version of the same question you had just asked him, that appears to be the answer you are assuming to be true which is making you look sadder. He does not understand this at all.

“How do I answer that in a way that won’t upset you further…” Spencer frowns, focussing very hard on your every micro-expression, trying to use your face as a cheat sheet.

“I don’t think you can, Spencer. Thanks for coming to check on me. Goodnight.” You give him a weak smile and go to close your hotel room door, but Spencer places a palm against the door with an expression of alarm.

“Please-“ He starts, then stops himself when you meet his eyes, his tone softening. “Talk to me.”

You take a deep breath and decide to bite the bullet. What do you have to lose? Your heart’s already been hit with every weapon of mass destruction you can think of.

“I thought- I thought you knew there was- it wasn’t flirting, but there’s been something between us that I thought you knew as well as I did. Stupidly, I thought you were reciprocating it, but if you couldn’t tell that cop was flirting with you, there’s no way you knew…” Your weak smile wavers. “Like I said, just getting in my head over things. Doesn’t matter. You haven’t done anything wrong. Night-“

Once again unexpectedly, Spencer interrupts you, but this time for a very different reason.

“I need to sit down.”

It’s only then you realize how suddenly pale he’s become. Paler than you’ve ever seen him, in fact. Your eyes widen, and you grab Spencer’s forearms, guiding him into your hotel room and over to the armchair in the corner of the room, the door clicking shut behind you while Spencer stumbles with the most shell shocked look in his eyes.

“Spencer, what’s going on? Are you alright?” You ask him worriedly.

“Indeterminable.” Spencer answers in a distant voice.

“Okay, okay, uh-“ You flit from him to the sink in your hotel room to grab Spencer a glass of water, that you’re quick to bring to him. “Here.”

His eyes don’t even focus on you or the glass, but he takes it from your hand and gulps it down. Spencer makes the mistake of glancing at you mid-sip, and starts choking, resulting in you patting his back.

“Something between us…” He coughs out. “You said, something between us. What.”

Your eyebrows furrow, and your face feels hot.

“You know, mutual pining. Like in movies.” You feel very awkward having to explain that.

“Books, first.” Spencer corrects you quietly, his breathing finally steadying.

“Yeah, okay, books first.” You can’t help chuckling lightly and taking the empty glass back over to the sink, then returning to Spencer, but stopping in your tracks when you find him now standing instead of sitting in the armchair.

“A study has shown that on average it takes men 88 days to fall in love, while it takes women 134 days. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t believe every aspect of love can be reduced to facts and statistics, but in moments of self-doubt I fall back on what I know. I knew what I knew of how I felt about you on the day we met, but I waited 88 days to be certain, and then it was only logical I waited 134 days to give you the chance to develop even the vaguest pleasant feeling towards me.” He takes a breath. “It has only been 120 days; I had not yet decided how I was going to broach this topic with you, and the question remains as to whether I’ve waited long enough for you to be as certain as I am. If the answer is anything other than yes, I promise, I’ll wait as many days as it takes, even if it’s a number I can’t reach.” Spencer’s voice is that of a man swearing an oath he has no doubt he’ll live to honor in every sense, and you are certain your heart has stopped beating.

You stare at him with wide eyes, feeling like time has frozen around you, the only sounds being your breathing to fill the suffocating silence of your hotel room. A microexpression of terror flickers across Spencer’s face, and you are brought back to yourself in an instant.

“I wish you’d asked me 120 days ago.” You say breathlessly.

“I didn’t ask anything.” Yet, Spencer adds internally, his heart pounding.

“But you’re going to.” You clarify softly, and Spencer nods, so you nod back at him.

“Would…” Spencer clears his throat. “Would you allow me the honor of taking you on a date? With me? Together? Here? Or anywhere- anywhere we can realistically travel to, that is-“ As he rambles and gets ahead of himself, your expression of shock evolves into a smile, and it’s your turn to interrupt him.

“Yes. Anywhere, anytime. Yes.” You answer.

There’s a beat of silence as Spencer catches his breath.

“Now?” He dares to whisper, and you’re grinning, glancing between him, and the provisions of a TV, bed and phone that this hotel room provides.

“Would you be opposed to a first date of takeout and shitty hotel room cable?” You offer playfully.

A bashful smile curls at the corner of Spencer’s mouth as he smiles back at you.

“Anything with you.” He says, but is quick to amend his own words. “Provided it’s an entirely safe scenario, obviously.”

That makes you snicker. “Obviously.”

Spencer looks between you and the bed, nervous of how to proceed. You make the first move, taking a step towards the bed, and Spencer offers you his hand - somewhat needlessly, but if he ever misses an instant in which he can deliver a gentlemanly action upon you, he would suggest that’s the instant you shoot him dead - to assist you onto the mattress before he follows suit and sits down beside you, kicking off his shoes.

“I’m completely underdressed for our first date, sorry.” You joke, looking between your pajamas and Spencer’s suit.

“You’re beautiful.” Is all he says, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it as he gazes down at you with the most gentle smile.

You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers, and Spencer doesn’t hesitate to lift them to his lips to kiss each of your knuckles tenderly.

“Takeout?” He murmurs against your skin, and for a second you’re lost to the daze of his kisses that you wonder if he’s asking whether the act of them has taken you out (to which you’d answer with a resounding yes), but remembering the nature of your date, you nod wordlessly.

Spencer smirks against your knuckles.

“I meant, what kind of takeout?” He amends, and your face feels hot again.

“Anything at all.” Is all you can think to respond, because to be completely honest, you do not care what you eat tonight.

Spencer chuckles quietly at that, keeping his hand holding yours while his other hand reaches for the hotel room phone, to dial for reception and request their recommendations for the best local takeout places.

“What’s so funny?” You ask him, but you’re smiling regardless of not yet knowing, just seeing him laugh while his thumb caresses your knuckles.

“I was just thinking, ‘Anything at all’ is exactly what I’ve thought every time I’ve looked at you.” Spencer muses as he brings the phone to his ear.

Anything at all to make you smile again, anything at all from you, if you asked he’d anything at all for you.

And much like the last time, you don’t even realize he’s spelling out words against your skin with the caress of his thumb. This time, though, it’s just one phrase, repeated.

To be yours.

To be yours.

To be yours.

[cxrsed-angel]

Knuckle Deep in the Backseat (Joel Miller x Fem! reader smut)

rating: 18+

word count: 3k

summary: Joel convinced you to learn how to drive and offers to teach you, but ends up in the back seat with you.

warning: Smut, age gap (Joel is in his 50s, reader is in 20s). Fingering, dirty talk, Daddy kink, pet names, car sex, established relationship.

A/N: Title is inspired but causal by Chappell Roan but the fic has nothing to do with the song. This actually was in my draft since last year and was "finished" but it needed work lol.

The sun is barely up bit its still too bright, and the birds are chirping too loudly. You can feel the crisp fall air as you stand outside. You hated being up this early. You don’t even remember how Joel got you to wake up this early. Joel knew you weren't a morning person, but he had convinced you with shitty coffee to practice driving after finding a couple of gas cans. Said it might come in handy, and he doesn’t want you to be unprepared. The thought was sweet, but waking you up at 7:00 a.m. wasn’t. You figured it would be later in the day like 12pm not the ass crack of dawn. You followed him to the truck, your eyebrows frowning due to how early it was. 

“Good morning, baby. ‘You ready to drive? I woke you up ages ago. What took you so long?” 

Joel greets you with a big smile. He's leaning against the old truck, way more energetic than you are. Over the years, he’s gotten used to waking up early, which you didn’t understand. You hated how chipper he was in the morning; you couldn’t relate. You’d be lucky if you rolled out of bed before noon. 

You walk up to him, flipping him off before taking the coffee from his hand. He laughs and watches as you take a sip of coffee. You walk to the driver's side of the car, and he follows behind you. You watch as he opens the door and starts hot-wiring the car to start it. 

You see him standing next to an old four-door black truck, holding the coffee he had promised, smiling. “You know I used to have a truck like this; it was black—” You nod, staring at him, not really listening to him go on about his old pre end of the world truck he used to own. You're still trying to wake up, zoning out a bit. You stare at him briefly, and he realizes that you haven't been listening. 

He stops rambling about the mileage he had on his old truck and the deal he got on it. “You ever drove one of these before?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. You give him a deadpanned stare, narrowing your eyes, 

“And when would I have driven one of these, Joel? Considering most cars stopped working about 20 years ago.” You knew you were being cranky, but you didn’t appreciate being up before noon if your life wasn’t depending on it.

He looks up from hot wiring, mumbling under his breath, “fucking smart ass” You roll you’re eyes and watch as he continues messing with wires until you hear the car turns on; you stare at him as he walks around.

 His ass looks particularly good in his jeans as he walks around the truck to get into the passenger seat. Normally, you would try to make your staring more subtly, but it was hard since you’re barely awake; he just looked so good. The greying hair, his pretty brown eyes, the wrinkles around his forehead from frowning for the last 20 years, the cuts around his face, his muscles peeking through his shirt sleeves. You’re broken out of your trance when you hear his deep Texas voice that had lured you out here in the first place. 

“Are you gonna stand there and check me out all day, or are you gonna get your ass in the car.” 

You stop daydreaming, his words snapping you out of your semi-dirty thoughts. You walk to the car and get into the driver’s seat. You’re sitting in the driver's seat as he asks, “Ok, so tell me what you remember.” 

“Well, not much, considering the last time I was in a car that worked, I was a toddler,” You answer again sarcastically, rolling your eyes, still cranky and grumpy. 

Joel turns his head to look at you, narrowing his eyes at your snark. He knows it usually takes a good 30 minutes or so for you to be yourself when he woke you up early, but today, you seemed extra grumpy. 

The first time Joel woke you up early in the morning, you gave him short responses or cursed him out every other sentence all morning. It was earlier on when he met you. Joel thought you were pissed at him or that he did something, so he responded back with short responses and attitude, which led to a lot of tension the rest of the day. But after a couple of weeks of early morning runs, he saw that that was just how you are, and he eventually got used to it. He also realized that if he gave you coffee and was patient, you’d eventually wake up faster. Still, it didn't work every time, and it seemed like this was one of those mornings where you were extra cranky and a pain in the ass. 

You take another sip of his coffee and sigh, realizing you were being too bitchy; you hand the coffee back to him. “I’m sorry. That was a bit much. I’ll tone it down. Promise.” 

He looks at you as he puts the coffee in the cup holder, unsure if he believes you. He replies dry and sarcastically. “I'm sure you will.” He starts talking about something, but honestly, you weren’t listening, too lost in those brown eyes of his to focus on what he was saying again.

 You see him motion to the thing with numbers above the steering. You know it's probably important, but you're far more interested in how good his hands look as he gestures to the different parts of the car. Fuck why did he have to be so hot? 

“So, um, 20 years ago, you would’ve had to take a test and worry about a lot of different rules of the road and deal with people riding your ass, tailgating, and a lot of other shit, but um, now I guess the important thing is just getting somewhere as fast as possible isn't it? You’d probably not gonna drive often, but it's good to know.”

You nod, paying attention to his words now instead of all the dirty things you want him to do to you, trying to focus on getting ready to drive. 

“Alright, you feel those two pedals down there. The one on the left is the brake, and the one on the right is the gas; you only want to use one foot while driving; you can really mess up the car if you press both at the same time. See these here are your shifts to D for drive, P for park, R for reverse.” He pauses, thinking about anything he might’ve missed, but he remembers you weren’t gonna be driving like he used to, “Thats all you really need to know.” 

You watch as he explains everything to you. He tells you to put it into drive, and the car starts moving forward slightly. You shakily put your hands on the wheel, gripping it tightly, and press down the gas pedal, nervously chewing on your lip. He guides you through an old road that wasn’t too overgrown or hard to navigate. After a few minutes, you feel like you're starting to get the hang of it. You feel Joel place his hand on your thigh, resting it there. You look over at him slightly, wondering if you have messed up or done something wrong. Still, he says nothing about letting you drive, resting his hand on your thigh, and occasionally squeezing it. 

“Am I doing okay?” you ask quietly as his hand continues to rest on your thigh, slowly rubbing further up your thighs.  You feel his hand creep up higher and the air in the truck getting hotter as his hand makes you feel warm. You lose focus on what you are doing and feel the car drifting off the road as his hand reaches further up your shorts. You feel the arousal building in your core. 

“Doin' great baby, just try to keep the wheel straight; you're drifting sideways a little.” He leans over you, grabbing the wheel to make it straight before letting you take over again, “Atta girl, see, you're doing perfectly.” 

His hand lightly squeezes your thigh reassuringly. You swallow hard, trying not to let his actions and deep voice affect you, trying to focus your attention back on the road. But that went out the window once you felt his hand rub the place you needed him most through your pants. 

“Joel,” you whisper his name. It comes out more of a moan than you intended; he leans over the gear shift, kissing your neck and sucking on your skin. You close your eyes, feeling your body getting hotter and your heart beating faster. You had forgotten you were supposed to control a vehicle until he moved his lips off your neck. 

“Focus on the road, baby; after all the shit I’ve been through, I don't wanna die because you drove us into a damn tree.” 

You open your eyes, listening to him, and focus back on driving. At least you try to, but you fail once his fingers start unbuttoning your jeans. His hands go down your pants and slowly caress against your pussy over your panties. You feel your face heat up, getting wetter, more turned on by his fingers teasing you. 

You don’t know how you’d manage to drive this much without crashing the truck, but you lose what little self-control you have left when Joel moves your panties to the side. Your foot moves off the gas pedal, the car stops, and you can't take it anymore. You close your eyes, feeling yourself get wetter. 

“Joel! I can't–ah– I need you please, please, please, I need you,” you beg and whine to him, wanting him to do more, but all you hear is his deep voice laugh at you as he removes his hand from your pants. 

“All of a sudden, you have manners, and bein’ polite.” he mocks you as he moves back into his seat, watching you get a bit mad.. “What happened to all that attitude and snark you gave me 10 minutes ago.” He continues as you look at him, your face flush and hot. No way you continue with this driving lesson after feeling his fingers against your core. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry I won't be a pain in the ass anymore.” You try to apologize, hoping he’ll accept it and put his hand back. You look at him with soft eyes, practically beginning him to fuck you. 

He looks at you for a few minutes before shaking his head and giving you a smirk, not being easily won over by your apologies or the 180 in your attitude.

“What?. You think a few sorrys gonna have me forget how much attitude you gave me for no reason?” You frown as he continues, “No, sweetheart, you’ve been an extra wiseass this morning, and I don't think you deserve it.” 

You shake your head to apologize again, hoping to convince. “Joel… Please, I said I was sorry. You know I’m not a morning person, and I never mean it.” He doesn't say anything as he looks at you. You can tell he’s debating whether to drive back to Jackson or go to the back of the truck. “Alright, fine baby, get in the back. But I ain't letting you get that easy,” he grunts in a deep Texas voice. You smile, glad he had given in. 

You unbuckle your seat belt and crawl into the truck's back seat. You're about to leave the car, but Joel places a hand on your shoulder, stopping you. 

 “You gotta put it into park, darling, or we’ll go rolling into a tree.” He gently reminds you as he opens the passenger door. 

You glance at the gear shift, remembering you were supposed to be a driving lesson that had taken a turn.

 “Oh, right.” You sit back in the driver's seat, putting the gearshift into P. You couldn't turn the car off since it was hot-wired, so you watch as Joel reaches over and pulls another small lever thing up, not exactly sure what it is for. 

“The emergency brake. Just to be safe.” 

 After parking the car and making sure the car wasn't going to roll backward, You hop over the console and crawl into the back seat, waiting for him to join you. You watch as Joel gets out of the passenger seat, closing the door behind him. Your eyebrow frowns slightly, confused as to why he was not hoping into the backseat with you. “Aren't you- where are you going?”  Your frown confused why he wasn't hopping over the seat like you. He smiles at you before closing the passenger door; he opens the back seat door, closing it behind him, and climbs in, sitting in the middle seat, getting into the backseat,

 “I ain't as young, and with my bad back and knees. There's no way I’m hopping over the console and crawling into the goddamn back seat like that. My knees are already bad enough.” 

You smile as he sits next to you, forgetting about your age difference, “Guess thats the con of dating an old man, huh.” You joke as he grabs your hips, gently pushes you down on the back seat, and unbuttons your jeans, hovering over you as you lay on your back. 

“Yea, but who's getting in the back seat with said old man and begging this old man to fuck you.” 

You laugh for a bit at his very valid reply. You feel him pull your jeans down and your underwear all at once. You sit with him as he tosses your clothes to the backseat floor. He moves a bit to sit on the seats, pulling you next to him, and his rough hands grab your hips. You feel him rub up your thigh with one and place his index and middle finger on the other hand against your lips. You open your mouth, sucking on them, gazing up at Joel. 

Joel lets out a groan under his breath as he looks at you, “Fuck sweetheart, look so pretty sucking on my fingers.” His praise gets you wetter as he takes his finger out of your mouth and slowly pushes them inside you. He starts off slow but gradually increases his speed as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that spot deep in you. You shudder under his touch, grinding against his fingers. 

“Fuck baby, you’re soaking my fingers.” he drawls out as he continues fucking you with his fingers. You whimper at his words, hearing the sounds of your wetness as his finger fuck deeper into you. You grab onto his bicep to steady yourself, clenching around his fingers as you get closer to your release. Your moans grow louder as you feel his fingers rub against your clit.

“Yes! Yes! Daddy, I’m so close!” You feel the pressure building, your breath gets shakier, and your moans get louder, filling the old truck, until you feel his hand cover your mouth, muffling you’re growing moans. He leans over, hovering over you more, his fingers stopping inside you.

“You need to shut the hell up before you attract a whole hoard of clickers.” His stern tone still turns you on more, his eyes staring into yours intensely. Making sure you understand him, you give him a nod with glossy eyes staring back at him. 

He slowly started moving his finger again, curling up as he reached the spot each time he slid his finger inside you. Your eyes roll back as you move your hips against his fingers. You felt his hand come out of your mouth, and you bit your lip, trying to surprise your moans. You feel you’re self getting closer, your brain getting fuzzy as his fingers move faster.  

“Is this what I have to do every morning, gotta make you cum on my fingers, then you’ll be nice?” He taunts you as you continue moaning. Your lips desperately clash with Joel’s messily making out with him. Joel’s other hand spreads your thighs further as he continues to finger fucking you. 

You nod absentmindedly, leaning your head against his neck as he continues fucking you with his fingers; his thumb rubs your clit and brings you over the edge. Joel knew, too. He knew your body like the back of your hand, even outside of sex. He always knew when you were scared when you were pissed. 

“You’re close, huh I can tell. You wanna cum, sweetheart? You’re gonna cum on daddy’s finger?” He asks softly as he sits beside you, fingers moving deeper inside your dripping cunt. 

You immediately nod, “Yes, daddy, please, please. I’m so close.” Your release slows as his fingers pull out of you. You feel your orgasm fading and your eyes open, looking at him disappointed, watching as he puts his two fingers in his mouth, tasting your wetness. He gives you a slight smirk as she shakes his head. 

“I don’t know. I’m not sure you deserve it, after how you were this morning, all those smart-ass remarks after you asked me to teach you to drive.” He slowly traces his finger over your clit, teasing you as you whine against him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll be nice!” you apologize frantically, hoping he’ll move his fingers again. Joel smiles before he slips his finger inside your aching pussy accepting your apology, and moves his finger again, the arousal building again. Your moan grows louder as his fingers bring you to your release. He brings his lips to your mouth, sloppily kissing you to quiet your moans. You moan against his lips. 

“As pretty as those moans are, you really gotta keep it down, sweetheart. Once we get back to Jackson, you can be as loud as you want. Okay?” 

You nod, knowing he’s right. You really don't wanna lure a group of infected or clickers with your moans. In this situation, you’d rather not die mid-sex from clickers. you close your eyes, feeling his fingers move faster. He brings his other hand onto your clit, rubbing it slowly.

“I know, I know but-fuck baby, I’m close, I'm so close.” The sounds of your moans and your wetness from your entrance fill the rundown truck as you get closer to your release. 

“Come on baby, atta girl, soak my finger, baby.” He coaxes, his voice guiding you through your orgasm. eye closing as you dissolve into pleasure. you gasp before moaning his name repeatedly. “Joel Joel Joel fuck daddy!” His hand comes over your mouth again to keep your moans quiet. You feel your stomach twist, your wet pussy clenches as you feel your climax. you move, laying your head on his shoulder as his fingers help you ride out your orgasm. 

You feel him remove his fingers from you. you breathe heavily, coming down from your high. Just you open your eyes; Joel puts his dripping fingers in his mouth. You watch desperately as he moans at your taste. He smiles, laughing slightly at how you look at him still recovering but, obviously still wanting him. He leans forward, planting a kiss on your forehead, and looks at you.  

“You better?” you nod silently. “You awake?” you nod again, feeling a bit weaker between your legs than before you had entered the truck. Joel laughs, gently giving you a soft kiss on your lips. “Good, now get back in the driver’s seat and take us home so I can fuck you. ” 

You nod, getting up and hopping back into the front seat. You look back at Joel, watching him get into the passenger seat. He starts the car again, and you start speeding back to Jackson. 

“You know, maybe you should give me an orgasm in the morning every day to wake me up.” you smile, making a joke but also being serious. 

Joel shakes his head at your words, laughing a bit. His hand comes back to your thigh, rubbing it. “Just focus on driving the damn truck first.” 

[leaderwonim]

𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘 — two: since when were australian girls mean?

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. lee heeseung x fem!reader, park sunghoon x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. Y/N always knew that her high school was dominated by wealth and privilege. Upon having a one night stand with with popular athlete Lee Heeseung, she uncovers that Heeseung's friend group controls not only social dynamics but also school policies and local affairs, revealing a hidden world of power and manipulation behind their so called perfectly polished exteriors

masterlist | previous | next

“Tell us everything!” Giselle slaps your arm jokingly, practically bouncing on the edge of her seat from excitement. “I know I was scolding you earlier but you slept with the Lee Heeseung!”

You grin, taking a sip of your iced americano. Yujin wasn’t as interested as Giselle, she was more concerned than anything.

“I told you, no feelings attached. He saw me bummed out at the party and things just escalated. That was all it was, really.”

“I just hope the rumors don’t escalate.” Yujin frowns. “You know how Heeseung’s group can be.”

“Yeah,” the three of you swing your backpacks over your shoulder, getting ready to head off to school. You just hoped the rumors wouldn’t earn you looks when you walked in.

Meanwhile, the group decided to make Seojun is the designated driver. His father did gift him a shiny new Porsche for his birthday.

Danielle was in the passenger seat while Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Hanni made themselves comfortable in the back.

“So, who’d you fuck?”

Danielle gasps at Seojun’s nonchalance and straightforwardness.

“Seojun!”

“What?”

Hanni glares at the boy in front, but turns to Heeseung after with a smirk. “He’s right Heeseung. Who’d you fuck?”

“What makes you think I slept with someone?” He nervously chuckles.

“Let me think,” Hanni pretends to think for a second before refocusing her eyes on Heeseung. “You didn’t respond to the group chat until the next morning, and you didn’t show up to Wonyoung’s breakfast. Please don’t tell me it was some loser that you got with.”

Heeseung shakes his head. “It’s nobody we know. Just drop it.”

Hanni shrugs, not in the mood to pester the boy any longer. She leans against Sunghoon’s blazer, pressing her cheek against his arm.

“My parents just checked in my allowance.” Sunghoon says. “20,712,750 won for this week. You want to get food after school?”

Hanni nods quickly. “Yeah. Let’s go to the hot new karaoke place you like. What was it called again, Hoon?”

It was during times like these where Lee Heeseung felt out of place. Seojun and Danielle were both busy talking in the front about something that interested the both of them, and Hanni and Sunghoon were busy cuddling up to each other to even care about what was around them.

It was as if they were separate duos that Heeseung just couldn’t come between. They each had their own thing, something that he didn’t have.

“We’re here.” Seojun stops the engine. “You guys get out first, I have to make a phone call to my dad.”

Heeseung’s the first to step out of the car, already exhausted from just looking at the school.

This was his last year before graduating—he just had to pull through and get into Columbia.

Giselle’s car is parked only a few meters away, and she has to stop herself from pushing you over to Heeseung herself.

“There your boyfriend is.” She teases.

“Sh! What if his friends hear?”

Giselle looks over to Heeseung’s friend group, clearly unimpressed. “Just a bunch of wealthy kids who spend recklessly. Seojun even got a new Porsche.”

Yujin grabs her backpack from Giselle’s trunk, then an idea suddenly lights up in her head.

“Y/N,” she says, poking you softly.

“Yeah?”

“I think I may have an idea to how to fix your scholarship problem.”

You turn around to face her, eyebrows raised in confusion.

She points discretely at something in front of the three of you.

Lee Heeseung.

AUTHOR’s NOTE. HOPEFULLY YOU GUYS GET MY TSITP REFERENCE 🥹 park seojun is played by lee wonjung btw!

TAGLIST (open) @cupidhoons @lilyuwon @soobeboobe @immelissaaa @coqhee @shuichi-sama @ssukiyakii @deobitifull @sunpov @anittamaxwynnn @minjaexvz @katarinamae @capri-cuntz @jooniesbears-blog @sakanelli-afc @lvlyjisung @cherlv @mnxnii @llvrhee @b0bbl3s @lwavander @glxzillx @txtlyn @heartheejake @realrintaro @wonyoungsvirus @hyuckies18

[rc-writes]

𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 | 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢

pairings: spencer reid x bau!reader

warnings: reader has a headache due to accidentally missing lunch

a/n: one more little blurb i've written due to my criminal minds rewatch journey! as of now i unfortunately have no other little blurbs written so i don't want you guys to think this is me suddenly being active a lot again. like i said in my penelope blurb i make no promises of me posting regularly again, but i definitely want/hope to write more! anyways, this blurb is completely inspired by me forgetting food exists for half a day a few weeks ago and getting a massive headache due to it :/ advice of the day kids, eating is important! lol

You and JJ had been on reading files duty for the day which meant being held up in the tiny room the local police station had set up for the team. Usually, it was Garcia who was in charge of digging through the files for potential suspects, but the station was severely behind on digitizing their files so manual reading was what had to be done.

As the day went on you began to have the world's most annoying headache. It wasn't too debilitating that you couldn't push through it to get through the last few files however, so you continued your reading. That was until you also began to feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you suddenly.

The most you had done all day was walk from one side of the table to the evidence board across the small room, so you weren't sure why you were suddenly on the verge of nodding off. If you were out conducting interviews or going over the crime scenes like you usually did, then maybe that would explain some tiredness, but that wasn't the case today.

"Hey, we're back!" Spencer's sudden voice filling the room made you jump out of your thoughts.

"Hi." You replied back with a soft smile, trying to mask the tiredness. "We managed to narrow the suspect pool to five people."

"Garcia is already on searching for anything that might not be in any of these files." JJ added from her spot at the table.

"Hard to believe anything is not in all these files." You joked, laughing. Mid-laugh your voice seemed to falter, the headache deciding to grow stronger at the sudden higher noise level of the room. You tried to mask your voice fading by slowly turning to face the board again, trying your best to massage your forehead a little.

"Hey are you alright?" Spencer asked as he walked closer to you.

"Yeah, yeah." You lied, turning to face him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just that I noticed your movements seem to be a bit sluggish. Not- not to say that's a problem considering you've been cooped up in here all day. But also, I noticed you're rubbing circles into your forehead which might be a sign of a headache. Which is actually a good thing to do when you have one because researchers say-" Spencer trailed off when he noticed you bringing your hand up again to your forehead. "Sorry, that's not the point. Are you okay?"

"I've been a little tired and have a minor headache. Nothing too bad, don't worry." You admitted, no point in trying to lie anymore. "I'm not sure why though. It's not like I've done much moving around all day, just flipping through piles of paper." You gestured to the table. It was then that you noticed JJ had left you two to be alone. "But I suppose just sitting here all day could be exactly the reason." 

"It is proven that little movement can have just as much effect as too much movement on the body." Spencer agreed. "To add to that, whatever you ate for lunch today could also have an effect as well."

Spencer then began to ramble about the importance of what kind of food you need to eat for which meal, but you didn't hear much as your own thoughts were racing.

A look of slight horror crossed your face. "Oh god, I didn't even realize I skipped lunch completely."

"What?"

"Yeah, I got so caught up in reading over the suspect files that I didn't want to leave when everyone else went to go get something from the break room. Thought I'd wait until I got done reading this one file, but I must have gotten too distracted and completely forgot to ever actually get up."

"Honey, no wonder you're tired and have a headache then." He reached for your hands. "You haven't eaten since we had breakfast together at the hotel." 

You held onto his hands back. "Yeah, and it wasn't exactly a big breakfast either." You both laughed. "I guess a big dinner is in my future then."

Spencer nodded, smiling. His eyes seemed to light up suddenly, you assumed some sort of idea popped into his head. He then immediately headed to the door.

"Where are you going?"

Spencer turned, walking backwards out the room. "To find food! Anything! You need to eat pronto." He bumped into the doorframe before walking completely out the room. From your small frame of vision out the doorway you saw he also nearly bumped into one of the local police officers as he was too focused to notice other people. 

You giggled to yourself at his new sudden mission to find you food. He really would do anything at the drop of a hat for you and you had no idea what you ever did to deserve it. But then you thought about how you'd do the exact same for him and he's said before he didn't deserve someone like you. It truly was a never-ending cycle of caring between you two. 

[sixosix]

it was tsukishima’s favorite drink.

It’s around eight AM when you receive a text from Tsukishima.

Where are you?, it reads.

omw there! hehe, you send back. Followed by: i can see the gate!

Ok.

why? do u want to see me already? lol

Tsukishima doesn’t reply, leaving it on Read, which makes you laugh and garner attention from some startled students. Tsukishima always wants the last word. You imagine him grunting and grumbling insults at his phone as he reads your message before shoving it away. He’s so cute, honestly.

As you hurry upstairs, your phone vibrates once again. You pause, reading Tsukishima’s question. What do you want from here? And it’s a picture of the vending machine outside the building, by the school gate. You didn’t even have to run all the way here.

i want to try the new soda flavor!

Ok, he sends back. I’ll give it to you @ lunch.

thank you, kei!!

By the time Lunch period rolls around, you barely have to get up from your seat. Hinata had zoomed off initially, but his head pops back in to yell at you, “Your boyfriend’s here!”

You hear someone mutter a confused Boyfriend?, but you don’t even have to look to check who it is. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi walk in long strides towards your desk. Either of them could be the boyfriend Hinata was referring to, really, so Hinata’s embarrassing volume doesn’t affect you.

“Here,” Tsukishima says, passing a freshly bought soda across your desk and into your expectant hands.

“Thank you, Kei! How much?”

Tsukishima pulls out the chair in front of your desk yet sits opposite from it to face you. “It’s fine,” he says, then brings out his own drink, a carton of strawberry-flavored milk. “Don’t look too happy. I’m here to make sure you study before you go to the club room.”

“Killjoy,” you murmur, but you’re smiling wide.

Yamaguchi laughs, settling on the seat beside you. He has Moo-Moo Milk for his drink for today’s lunch, and instead of a notebook like you and Tsukishima, he has an actual lunch. “Shh. Or Tsukki might take your soda back.”

You carefully shield your drink with both arms as Tsukishima rolls his eyes and urges you to just open your damn notebook already. You oblige, feeling quite giddy. Not only has Tsukishima agreed to tutor you, but he takes it upon himself to go to your classroom, and buy you a drink. Then again… this might be his grand masterplan to make you owe him the world. First, vending machine soda; next, the entirety of Japan.

You sip on your drink, then make a face. It tastes disgusting.

“Oy,” Tsukishima’s stern voice cuts through your thoughts. He’s been staring the entire time you got lost in your train of thought.

You fumble with the pages. “I-I’m listening!”

Tsukishima narrows his eyes. “You don’t like it, do you?”

“Whuh? Math? Of course not.”

“The soda, idiot.”

You grimace at the cold drink in your hand. It doesn’t even feel refreshing—like the way it’s advertised on the cover—it just assaults your taste buds. “It’s alright,” you say instead.

Tsukishima sighs. “Let’s switch.”

“Eh?”

“I don’t like this one anyway.”

“But why would you buy—”

At Tsukishima’s irritated expression, Yamaguchi jolts into action and urges you: “Just go along with it!” Like Tsukishima was bribing you with something illegal. Startled and dazed, you let Tsukishima switch drinks with you.

You both take a sip at the same time. Tsukishima’s expression doesn’t change, but you beam up at him. It’s sweet. 

Tsukishima stands and taps on your notebook. “I’ll be back, but you answer items 1–5.”

You and Yamaguchi watch as he leaves. “Where is he going?” you wonder.

“To spit it out, probably.” Yamaguchi snickered. “Hehe. He looked like a chipmunk.”

“Why would he trade if he didn’t like that one either, then? Kei is so stupid.”

“You might beat him on that.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re pretty stupid, too.”

At times like these, you’re reminded that Yamaguchi and Tsukishima are best friends. “Hey!”

Yamaguchi just grins in a way that spells out he’s up to no good. “You should buy more nasty flavors and make Tsukki trade.”

“Why don’t you do it?”

Yamaguchi shrugs. “So that it actually works.”

Tsukishima This is disgusting

Yamaguchi at least you managed to swap saliva

Tsukishima You are as disgusting as this failed tropical mess of a soda flavor, Yamaguchi

Yamaguchi hahahaha. you were blushing, Tsukki.

[kpop---scenarios]

Charmer (1)

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader x Suprise!

Genre: fwb, ex fwb, semi enemies to lovers

Warning: Heartbreak, small smut [18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT READ]

Word Count: 2k

“Why do you do that?” You scoff, slamming the front door closed before you throw your purse down on to the table. You stare at your.. Minho as you take off your jacket, angrily hanging it up in the closet. You can hear him scoffing and mimicking you behind your back, stopping awfully quickly as you turn around to face him.

“What Y/N?” He asks. “What did I do now?”

“You flirt with every single fucking girl that's around when I'm right beside you. Aren't we kinda like..” You pause.

He rolls his eyes again. “Friends with benefits, I guess ones who like each other?” He chuckles.

“This. This is where you confuse the hell out of me. You say you like me, you fuck me, we go out and do shit but then you do shit like this and say shit like this.” You say. “I don't get it. Either you wanna be with me and are gonna ask me out officially, which means you stop flirting with other girls.. or..” you pause.

Minho puts his hand up to stop you. “I'm just being friendly to them. It's not flirting.”

“If I weren't there, you would have kissed her. And don't tell me you wouldn't have.” You deadpan.

“So what if I would have? Kissing isn't cheating. Hell, sex isn't even cheating. It's not an emotional attachment, Y/N. I don't love them. But we're also not dating so what does that matter?”

“Have you slept with other women?” You ask. Your stomach sinks as you watch his face, his void of any expression, showing such a lack of empathy or sympathy, face.

“No.” He yawns.

“Please, Minho. Just stop flirting with other girls. I'm not joking. I don't like it and I've told you that. So you need to stop it or it's done, whatever this is, is done.” You say.

“This really isn't anything though, Y/N. I don't know how many times I have to remind you of that. We're not dating, and to be completely honest, we probably won't date.” He tells you.

“So this is really going nowhere then?” You ask. You didn't know if you wanted to hear the answer to this. You didn't want everything to change, it only takes a split second for your entire world to do a complete 180.

“I wouldn't say nowhere.” He chuckles. “I mean we have fun and stuff, but then we can also have fun with other people. I'm not looking to settle down right now, okay?” He says, placing his hand on your shoulder. “When I want to settle down, I'll let you know.” He smiles, taking his shirt off, then his pants before crawling into your bed. You didn't want to crawl in next to him, but you knew you would because when it came to Minho, you felt like you were addicted. Ever since you first saw him at some college frat party in your third year of school. He caught your eye immediately, and you couldn't look away no matter what you did. Even though he was with another girl, you paid her absolutely no mind as you watched the way his body moved when he danced, or how his eyes crinkled when he laughed. He was the most handsome man you'd ever seen and you wanted to know more.

When you finally had the courage to speak to him, he asked you out for a drink, and of course you said yes. You had a great time out with him, you drank, laughed and danced, it had been the most fun you'd had in quite a while. It was almost like he was bringing your spark back and you loved him for it. As the months went on, you fell more and more in love with him, but he was always very casual with you. Casual in the way he spoke to you in public, in the way he treated you in public but when the two of you were alone, on occasion, it felt like you were dating. You would eat dinner together, snuggle while you watched movies, he fucked you so good, when he didnt want it to be quick. He honestly made you confused and feel like you were dating when he was so sweet to you.

And now, two years later, the two of you are still doing the same thing. You hadn't been with anyone else other than him in the last two years, and even though he said he hadn't been with anyone else, you weren't sure if you completely believed him, and you didn't know how much longer you were going to be able to do this, which is something you seemed to say quite often to yourself but never did anything to change the situation, mainly because even though you weren't dating and he didn't treat you the greatest, you didn't want to lose him. It was demented. You knew you were demented but you couldn't resist him.

Minho rolls over, his arm draping over you as he grinds his hard cock into your ass.

“Mhmn.” He groans, pulling your panties down. You didn't say a word, instead scooted back, closer to him. He grabs your leg, putting it over him as he shimmies his boxers down, letting his cock out. He sucks his fingers before pushing them into your cunt, making him groan.

“You're already wet for me, huh, baby?” He says, pumping his fingers in and out a few times before using your wetness to coat his cock. He lines himself up before pushing into you. You gasp loudly, as you do each time he shoves his cock into you.

“You feel so good.” He whispers, his lips touching your ear. He quietly moans into your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he slowly thrusts in and out of you. “Play with your clit.” He groans. You reach between your legs, touching your already throbbing clit. You were so desperate for his touch, his emotions that you were willing to do as he says.

“Shit.” You gasp, clenching yourself around him as you rub yourself faster, Minho also picking up his pace as he fucks you. He brings his hand up, cupping your clothed breast, flicking your nipple over your shirt while he rams himself inside you.

“Cum baby. It's gotta be quick.” He gasps. It didn't matter how close you were or not, whenever he told you to cum, within seconds you would. You swore he had some kind of magic when it came to making you cum when he was around.

You cry out loudly as he moves faster but with shorter strokes, his impending orgasm building up quickly. He pants loudly in your ear, lightly groaning until he finally finishes, dumping his warm cum inside of you.

When he was done, he pulled up his boxers, rolling over to go to sleep. While you had to get up, get cleaned up before crawling back into bed

and you fall asleep that night, feeling guilty.

When you woke up in the morning, you looked over and Minho was already gone. This wasn't unusual for him, usually he'd fuck you, fall asleep and then leave really early around 4 or 5 in the morning to go home. Never waking you up, never saying goodbye. If he was feeling nice he would leave you a note but even that was rare. You got up for the day, doing your usual morning routine, if anyone asked you if you thought anything in your life would change today you would have absolutely said no. You lounged around for the day, not hearing anything from Minho, which was a little weird, he usually asked you to go for drinks with all your mutual friends but today you hadn't heard a single thing. Instead, Changbin had texted you around 8pm, telling you to come out and meet up with everyone. As you're finishing getting dressed and ready, your phone rings. And it's your favorite person in the world.

“Hello?” You answer.

“Bitch.” Jihyo yells into the speaker.

“Bitch yourself, it's 10am.” You laugh.

“No, seriously. Bitch.” She harshly whispers.

“What?” You gasp.

Years ago you and Jihyo had started saying bitch whenever you saw something you couldn't believe but you didn't want others to know you noticed it.

“Get down here. Now.” She says, hanging up the phone. You quickly finish up your look, grab your purse and head out the door. You were only a few minutes drive from the bar, so you hopped in a taxi quickly and made your way there. You paid your fare, rushing out of the cab and into the bar, where Jihyo was waiting at the door for you. She grabs onto your arm, pulling you towards the table of people you all recognized, all people you were friends with.

“Hey Y/N.” Changbin smiles, taking a sip of his beer.

“Y/N! Finally!” Hyunjin yells. You look around the table unsure of what Jihyo was telling you bitch for.

“What's going on?” You lean over to ask Jihyo.

“Just wait.” She urges, sipping her cocktail while her eyes dart around the room. You order a few drinks and shots to make sure you catch up to the rest of them. You were feeling fine and confident until Jeongin started to talk.

“I thought you and Minho were dating?” He asks, drinking his beer.

“It's complicated.” You say. “He's not ready to settle down.”

“Then why..” Jeongin starts before Jihyo cuts him off.

“Why what?” You ask, glancing around the table. They all look down, each one of them refusing to look you in the eyes. “You guys..” you start, until you see it. You see what Jihyo was saying bitch for. You watch as Minho struts towards the table, a woman wrapped around his arm.

“Long time in the bathroom.” Changbin mentions.

The girl giggles, hiding her face in Minho's shoulder as you glare at him. “Things take time, Bin.” Minho chuckles.

“Ah, Y/N. Who invited you?” He asks.

“Changbin.” You deadpan. “Who's the girl?” You ask, motioning to her.

“Ah, this is Jennie. My girlfriend.” He grins.

You choke on your drink.

“Girlfriend?” You gasp.

He nods his head.

“As of when?” You ask.

“This morning. We met up for breakfast and made it official.” He says.

Your heart sinks. He had just had his cock in you hours before, not to mention tells you he doesn't want to settle down, but then gets a girlfriend? Was it that he didn't want to settle down, or just that he didn't want to settle down with you?

“So what about our talk last night?” You yell. Your rage is consuming you. Why weren't you good enough now when you had been good enough to play the role for the last two years?

“What talk?” Minho laughs. He was looking at you like you were crazy.

“The one where you said you didn't want to settle down?” You yell.

“I'm sorry, Y/N.” He starts. “I was trying to be nice to you, you know, letting you down gently. But it seems that I need to be a little harsher with you now.” He says, giving you a pitiful side smile. “I just say that to women when I don't want anything more than just sex from them.” He says, shrugging his shoulders. You look around the table, everyone's mouths are hanging open.

“Minho..” Changbin starts. “That's fucked up, man.”

“What!?” He gasps. You can yell he genuinely doesn't think he's said or anything wrong.

You stand up abruptly, your chair falling back.

“Fuck you, Lee Know.” You spit.

“Y/N!” Jeongin and Jihyo call out. You dont hear them, your ears are ringing with fucking rage as you storm out of the bar, determined to cut off all kinds of contact with him. You wanted to, you really did. This had to be the last straw for you. But was it?

[mediumgayitalian]

“You ever pray we’re wrong?”

Nico lets his next step sound against the smoothed pebbles, dismissed the shadows he hovered on. Will doesn’t turn to face him, but one of his shoulders slumps, stretched-out camp shirt neckline hanging around his collarbones, in acknowledgment. Nico crouches down, inspecting the pebbles until he finds one suitable — flat, almost disc-like, a little bigger than his thumbnail, smooth as shaved skin.

“‘Bout what?”

It skips when he launches it, on the tail of Will’s, one, two, three times before sinking. Will’s goes much longer, as does his next. And his next. Sink.

“About the —

Sink.

— afterlife.”

He doesn’t look as he scoops up another handful, eyes glued to the setting sun. His pebbles are all the wrong shape, but he launches them, one at a time, one at a time, one at a time; each of them skips.

“About the world —

Sink.

— down there.”

Sink.

“Underworld.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You ever hope we just —

Sink.

— dreamed it up?”

Sink.

One, two, four, sixteen. Sink.

Sink.

“The whole thing. Gods and Judgement and Punishment. Hellfire.”

Sink.

One. Twothreefourfivesix. Seven. Sink.

Sink.

“Like the Mist. An illusion to keep us compliant.”

Sink.

One. Two. Ten. Twenty. Sink.

Sink.

“It isn’t,” Nico says, as gently as he can. He runs his thumb over the edge of a pebble, tracing its ridge. A rough broken corner slices along the pad of his thumbprint, and he jumps, breathing a curse, sliding the irony salt into his mouth. “Do you wish it was?”

“I hope it is.”

The blood is long since gone. Nico hooks his nail over his bottom teeth, tongue twisting at the lingering saltiness, and watches him, eyes hooded; the set to his shoulders, his spine; his sand-covered feet and soaked pants rolled to his calves. Lee’s shirt, worn thin, hanging off his shoulders, still; four camp necklaces on his throat, heavy with beads, one wrapped three times around his wrist. Hair, wilder than usual, knotted, matted, whipping in the wind, thick with sand, curling around his eyes.

“Why?”

“I hope we’re wrong and it’s Mist and it’s softer. And it’s —

Sink.

— nothing. Quiet.”

Sink.

“Why?” Nico repeats.

Sink.

“Because I’ve —

Sink.

— because I’m going to Hell, Nico.”

Sink.

One.

Sink.

One.

Sink.

One.

Sink.

Sink.

Sink.

“I’m going to —

Sink.

— Hell, and I’m scared.”

Sink.

“You’re a hero,” Nico says, quiet, and the pebbles in his fist are loud, are grating, and the bitter in Will’s laugh is stronger even than the lingering taste on his tongue, and louder, and brighter, bright, brighter, like the Sun, like the stars, like the brand new moon, and it sears, and it aches, and Nico looks away. And Will laughs, and keeps laughing, and launches his pebbles into the lake, all of them at once, and they hit the water like spit, and spatter, and they sink, and Nico hears them hit the floor, hears them ricochet through, down, descend.

“I hear the injured screaming and choose which ones die,” Will says, sink,

sink,

sink,

sink,

sink, “and I hear them curse me, as they die, and I am going to rot in Hell.”

Sink.

Sink.

Sink.

“You are a hero,” Nico says. His hands shake and he folds his thumb into his fists. “You are a hero. You’ll go to Elysium.”

Will smiles at him. “Okay, Nico.”

Sink.

“I’ve — judged, you know. Before. Good things way heavy. Good things weigh heavy.”

Sink.

“Okay.”

“You’re not cursed, Will.”

He sits, or he drops, on the rocky shore, bones against stone, and he stares, at the lake, at the Sun, at the Sun, at the Sun, and he waits, and he glows, and he burns.

“The gods aren’t fair,” he says. Quiet.

Sink.

[sinner-as-saint]

no masters or kings - 2

Priest!Bucky x Reader 

Read part 1 here

Run-through: Father Barnes’ life had been rather peaceful for years. He never complained though, he chose this. Between mass on Sundays, bible study sessions during the week, and office hours, the amount of time he has left he dedicated to reading and keeping his body active. There wasn’t much to do in this small, almost forgotten town. Then a new face appeared. A woman, married to some businessman who leaves her all by herself while he grows his fortune in the city. Father Barnes seemed determined at first, to herd and care for the new, young, lonely little lamb. But that is until he found himself tempted to sin like never before. 

Themes: priest!bucky, smut, degrading kink, infidelity, explicit language, (sacrilege, blasphemy, and all the other bad stuff), mild c*m play

a/n: @cadence-on-beat Father Barnes and I love you <3

“Where were you?” 

There was already a chill in the air which had you shivering for the past few minutes that you’d been in here. In the darkness, in the cold. Standing all by yourself in front of the ancient looking pulpit, inside the empty church at near midnight. Then the tone of his voice added to the shivering. You were properly trembling as you turned to face him. 

He hadn’t been out running tonight. No work out clothes. He was still wearing the black slacks he always wore. With the black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and that white collar. Hands shoved in his pockets, he stood there near the pews and watched you. 

The lights were off. The lamps outside and the moonlight coming in through the stained glass gave just enough light for you to see him. Not clearly, but you didn’t need to see his face to sense his displeasure. It echoed around the empty room. Not just his voice. His authority. His dark desires as well. 

Three little words and you were ready to drop to your knees and beg for forgiveness. He always had that effect on you. His handsome face only made him seem more lethal. Unreachable. Like he was some forgotten god who was known to be greedy, but you kept throwing yourself at his altar despite the warnings just for a possible glimpse of his beauty. 

You were enamoured. And you could only tell him the truth. Lying to him felt wrong. 

“My parents hosted a dinner party over the weekend. Plus there were a few fundraisers to attend. So um, my husband and I had to–,” 

He cut you off with enough venom and bitterness in his steady voice that it felt like a thorny vine wrapping around you, squeezing and hurting. “So you were with him?” His accusatory tone didn’t go unnoticed. 

–

Bucky was well aware he had no right to be jealous. He had absolutely no right to question you regarding your whereabouts. But he so selfishly enjoyed the way you squirmed in front of him. After not having seen you or heard from you for days, he was beginning to get worried. 

Each time he walked by your house, he made sure to look for any signs that you might be home. But there were none. By the second day, he realised you must’ve gone away. He just didn’t know that it would affect him so much upon hearing that you’d been away, for days, spending time with your showy family and husband. It made him borderline murderous. 

Dinner party. Fundraisers. Those were so far from his world. Plus you looked like you’d just gotten back from one such pretentious event. Judging by the deliciously low cut silver evening gown with a slit at the front, the expensive shoes, the diamonds in your ears and around your neck, and that excuse of a shawl you had wrapped around your shoulders – it looked like you’d come straight here to see him. It made him stand a little taller. 

He watched as you took the smallest step towards him, as if unsure whether or not you could get close to him. 

“I came back as soon as I could.” You explained, looking down at the dark red carpet beneath your feet. 

Bucky took some steps closer to you. “But you were with him. Did he touch you?” 

This made you look up at him, as if betrayed. As if it was unthinkable that your husband would touch you. “No. I told you about him and I. We’ve never–” 

He cut you off again, stepping closer and closer as he spoke until he was right in front of you. “Did he hold you in front of everyone? Pulled you close?” He began listing. “Showed you off? Held your hand, kissed you, danced with you? Did he do all the things I have no right to?” He reached out and his fingers stroked your cheek just barely. 

He was crossing a line. He knew it. He couldn’t stop the jealousy from spreading, from coursing through his veins. He begged his god to make it stop. Begged. But here it was again. That same jealousy, stepping out of a dark cave like a beast that’s been chained underground for too long now finally seeing the light again. It was angry. Raw. Hungry. Demanding. 

–

His jealousy, his possessiveness felt like a drug you wanted more of. 

“He did none of that.” You explained. “We slept in separate bedrooms in his penthouse.” 

You gasped as Father Barnes’ hand moved, his gentle touch on your cheek turned into him grabbing the back of your neck and bringing your face closer to his. Your chest pressing against his. His body heat wrapped all around you as he sneered, “What if he wanted to? Hmm? What if, as it is his right, he walked into your bedroom at night and said he wanted to fuck his wife? Would you have denied him?” 

Your breaths were shaky. Your mind was already foggy just by being this close to him. He didn’t feel human. He always felt more. He was too put together. Too steady. Too pretty to look at. 

He scoffed, “You wouldn’t deny him.” He whispered, his lips just an inch away from yours. “Your pretty little brain doesn’t think about anything else, does it? Of course you’d say yes. All you think about is men fucking you, owning your body, making it theirs. It doesn’t matter whose cock it is at the end of the day, is it?” 

He gave you a sinful smirk. One that made your whole body pressed against him even more. 

Then he leaned closer, so that his soft mouth brushed against yours as he said, “You just need that pretty pussy to be filled at all times. Doesn’t matter who does it, your husband, a stranger, a priest. It’s all the same to you, huh? All you care about is having a man on top of you. You sick, twisted, immoral woman.” 

He spoke those words with a gentle caress. His tone hushed, still jealous and authoritative. But quiet. Like he wasn’t chastising you. 

“Please.” You murmured, mouth brushing against his. “Please.” 

He ignored your pleas. Tightening his grip at the back of your neck as his other hand came up to that risqué slit at the front of your dress, fingers sliding in to touch your inner thighs. “Is that why you showed up here, dressed like this? Because you need a cock to fill you up. Hmm? Look at you,” He said, his fingers now finding their way in between your legs, cupping you there, “You’re trembling already.” 

He chuckled in that boyish way of his when he noted the lack of underwear, sliding his finger inside you with ease. Followed by another finger, and said, “Is this what you want? To be nice and full?” 

You looked up at him and nodded, pleading with him with your eyes. 

–

Bucky loved the sight of you like this. Expensive gown, diamonds all over you, his hand in between your legs, that sorry excuse of a shawl as if anything about your behaviour was even remotely modest. 

The soft moans coming out of your mouth. Too perfect. Your appearance, the lipstick, the hair, the gown. He wanted to ruin all of it in the best ways. So he thoroughly enjoyed the gasp of surprise he earned when he pulled his fingers away abruptly. 

“Not so easily.” He whispered. “Get on your knees.” 

He watched as you dropped instantly, right there in front of him on the dark red carpet right in front of the pulpit. Your shawl fell behind you, your silver gown spilled around you, the slit widened and exposed more of your smooth skin and legs. You looked up at him and waited. 

Bucky undid his pants, his eyes daring you to move without him asking you to. He lowered his slacks just enough to free his throbbing, hard cock and let it out there in front of your face. He let you watch it bob once, twice. He smirked when he saw the way you almost begged for it. But he wasn’t that cruel, nor was he too patient. 

“Go on, use your mouth.” 

– 

It felt forbidden. Well, it was. But as you reached for him, as you brought your mouth closer to his tip, it felt like you were entering a territory that could change your life forever. Like you were entering a domain which would swallow you whole, and you would happily let it. There was no coming back, you knew that. 

You were too far gone. There was no forgiveness for this. No repenting. Nothing. So you went for it. You wrapped your hands around his cock and placed your mouth on his tip, your tongue slowly circling his tip before sliding him into your eager mouth. 

Bucky slid his hand down to your neck, pulling your head forward as he slowly pushed himself deeper into your mouth. “What would your rich, conservative family do if they saw you like this, hmm? On your knees for a man you shouldn’t want. What would your husband do?” He threw his head back and let out a strained moan, followed by an arrogant chuckle.

You kept your eyes on his handsome face as you sucked on his cock with all your might. He closed his eyes momentarily, lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. You wondered how long it had been since his cock was inside a warm, wet mouth. 

He moaned as he pushed himself deeper, fucking your mouth like he owned it. The carpet would surely leave marks behind on your knees but that was the least of your concerns as he bucked his hips forward into your mouth. 

“This hungry, slutty mouth of yours feels so good…” 

You repeated your actions again and again, hollowing your cheeks. The growls and moans which escaped his lips made you squirm and only added to the dampness which was forming in between your legs. 

“You’ve been craving this, haven’t you?” He quickened the pace at which he moved in and out of you, eager to chase his orgasm. “Needing a cock in your mouth, so fucking desperate you came begging all the way here for it.” His voice was raspy, heavy with lust. It made you squirm. 

You knew you couldn’t wait any longer for the sake of your sanity. You needed him. So you took him out of your mouth, licking his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls. He looked down at you with a warning in his eyes. 

“Are you that eager? You can’t wait? Hmm?” That gentle voice of his was back again. “Just want to be done with me as quick as possible so I can fuck you, huh?” He looked down at you with his intense blue eyes. His longish hair a little out of place now. 

You nodded before taking him back into your mouth. You felt the veins of his firm cock against your tongue. You felt his muscles tightened under your touch, and you knew he wouldn’t last much longer. So you quickened your pace, and he groaned as he reached his high. 

With one final, rough push into your mouth, you felt him starting to come undone. His hand came to the front of your neck, a warning, as he growled, “Don’t swallow just yet.” Then his cum filled your mouth as he gradually pulled himself out of your mouth and bent down to look at you from up close. Your lips were swollen. Cum and spit ran down your chin, out the corners of your mouth. 

You were panting, waiting. He looked into your mouth, finding a small pool of his cum in there. He smirked in that devilish way as he slid two fingers past your lips, gathering the wetness on the tips of his fingers as he, almost naturally, brought his wet fingers to your forehead. 

“You’re mine.” He said to you while you trembled, and it wasn’t because of the cold night. 

There, as both of you were in that post-sex haze, he drew two overlapping lines on your forehead. Then dragged his wet fingers down your face, painting your skin. Down the bridge of your nose and back into your mouth. Pumping them in and out, causing more cum to fall down your chin. 

Causing it to fall down your neck, all over the diamonds that your husband possibly bought you. All over your chest, ruining your expensive gown, your makeup. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Your lipstick was smeared, you had his cum all over your face and he had never felt so close to ecstasy before. He felt free. Tingly. Floaty. Like nothing mattered, but every little mattered. 

This must be the feeling people seek. He thought. Why they beg at altars, and worship old gods and new. 

You were so close to begging again. You needed him, terribly. 

And he knew. 

–

Bucky stared deep into your eyes as he said, “Get on your back. Pull your dress up and spread those legs for me.” 

He watched as you did just as he asked, while lowering himself on top of you right there on the carpet. He was ready to go, all hard again. So he wasted no time in pushing himself fully into you. He watched you grimace in pleasure as his cock stretched you out. 

You whined as he slowly slipped out of you completely, before slamming back into you with a slightly bigger force. He groaned at the feel of your walls wrapped around him, squeezing and clenching around him. 

“Fuck you feel good.” He groaned. “This warm pussy missed me, huh?” 

Your back arched off the carpet, your chest pressed to his as you moaned. You wanted to feel his naked body against yours, to feel his warm chest press against your bare skin. But if this was all he’d give you then you were willing to take it.  

“You’re gonna keep coming back here over and over again, no matter where you go. You’ll come right back to me, won’t you?” He asked, hips moving in a way that made it hard for you to think straight. 

But you nodded. “Yes…” 

“Yes what?” He barked.

“Yes, Father Barnes. I’ll always come back to you,” You whispered, a moaning mess under him in no time. 

He worshipped your body. He grabbed your thigh with one hand, hooking it up to his waist, allowing him to fuck deeper into you. He mumbled how good you felt in your ear, groaning as you bucked your hips to meet each one of his thrusts as well. He kissed you roughly as he pounded into you, his fingers wrapped around your throat. He fucked you raw and relentlessly, watching how your face morphed into frowns of pleasure. 

“Tell me you’re mine.” He looked down to where your bodies connected so intimately. So sinfully. So beautifully. 

“I’m yours,” You whined, looking up at him. Even in the darkness, he was ethereal. Looking down at you with that animalistic, primal and fiery look in his eyes. 

His lips parted as he panted while he fucked you like he owned you. He did. He did from the moment you laid eyes on him. 

You whimpered even louder when his hand slid in between your connected bodies and furiously rubbed your clit. It wasn’t going to take much to make you come anyway, you were already too turned on. 

“Please,” You whined in a higher pitch, “Please, please, please…” 

“What do you need?” He panted, still fucking you hard and fast. “Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.” There was that priestly tone again. 

You couldn’t talk as the pressure in between your legs became too much to handle, and you craved for release. Still you mumbled out, “I need to come, please. Can I come?” 

“Fuck!” He swore as he felt you clench around him perfectly. “Go on, come for me.” 

You did. 

You came hard around him, moaning and whimpering under him as he finished right after you yet again. 

—

He helped you up after a minute or two, helped you fix your dress and appearance as best you both could. 

He had seen your car outside earlier so he knew you’d be okay to drive yourself home. You didn’t live far from the church anyway. And right before you left he said, “Leave the door unlocked.” It was a safe town, so he felt free to ask that of you. “Who knows? I might want more later.” 

Might. He could come back for more, or maybe he simply wouldn’t. Maybe he wanted you to go to bed still thinking, guessing, anticipating, and waiting. 

And he knew you would. Think. Guess. Anticipate. And wait.

[sturnioloisland]

As your boyfriend (NSFW) | C.S.

Pairing: Chris x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW below the cut, so minors dni, but I’m not your mother.

A/n: I did Matt’s version, so now I am presenting Chris’s version. I don’t like it that much, but I hope it’s okay enough for you guys, mwah🫶🏻

Personally, I think this man is the biggest tease in the entire world and this will certainly be a hill that I die on.

“Answer this question, baby, it’s an easy one to answer.” He’ll whisper in your ear while you’re sitting in his lap. His fingers are definitely under your shirt running over you sensitive nipples, “am I turning you on?”

He won’t accept a simple nod of your head. No, no, you’ll have to vocalize your answers on all occasions. Even if he’s gripping the back of your head while his cock is hitting the back of your throat. He relishes in hearing the noises you make while trying to answer him.

I wouldn’t necessarily say he’s mean, but he definitely does not play fair.

“Look at you so helpless beneath me, and there’s not a thing you can do about it.” He’ll say to you while his body is on top of you as he’s moving himself in and out of you, relishing in the sounds of your gasps and moans. “Yeah, you belong under me don’t ya baby?”

Messy!!! When he eats you out, but definitely blames it on you. “You’re making such a mess on my face, ma. Are you that turned on?” And he’d dive right back into your pussy. He wants to taste all of you.

LOVES seeing you on top of him. “Go on, baby, get yourself off on my cock.” He’ll either let you set the pace, or he’s gripping your hips, hard, and drilling up into you. He just loves watching your facial expressions.

When he’s sitting against the headboard while you ride him? He’ll wrap his arms around your body and have his face buried in your breasts. Kissing them, sucking on them, nipping at them, something! “It looks like your marks from last time are fading. I guess I need to redo them.” Sometimes he’ll grip your hair from behind and pull it back to completely expose your neck to him. “I love it when you let me leave marks on your neck, baby.” And boy will he leave some marks, as long as you allow him.

“I want to watch how desperate you look as I give you every last inch of me.” Remember how I said he was a tease? No matter if you are crying in desperation for him, he’s inserting himself so slowly into you. He just loves watching your face scrunch as you try to take him all in.

Personally, I think he someone who will have your face planted into the pillow as he rails into you from behind, locking your hands behind your back with his own grip.

He loves bringing you to a point of overstimulation, whether it’s with his fingers or his cock. He loves how you stumble over your words, or grip his wrists, and cry out from the pain and pleasure that you’re feeling.

He’s not one to come inside of you, but he loves either coming on your stomach or on your ass. “Stay still, baby. I want to take a picture of you like this, for future use.”

When all is said and done, and he’s cleaning you up. He’s placing kisses starting from your ankles all the way up your body to your lips all while mumbling, “You did so good, baby, such a good girl for me.” Sometimes he may get a little carried away with the kisses which will subsequently lead to round two.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Boys: Pool Day | Fluff

Ngl I wrote this in less than an hour and a half. Been chilling in the pool a lot these days and needed to write something for it. Now I want y'all to make sure and read Zayne's part and pay special attention to it, okay? Listen to what he says. I'm serious guys, listen to Zayne.

♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Warnings: N/A ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Pairings: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

The cool water lapped at your skin as you sank your entire body into it. A sigh of relief escaped you as you instantly felt better. The summer had just started and already it had been record high temperatures. Thankfully your apartment complex had a nice pool, and since it was one of your rare days off you took advantage, silently thanking the world that your apartment had mainly elderly and hunters so today nobody else was at the pool.

To make matters even better, you managed to drag your sleepy neighbor out with you. You had promised him pool snacks and the new lounge floats you had gotten. Unlike the inflatable ones, these were fabric of sorts and you just knew they’d feel absolutely amazing the moment you two got into the pool.

“Are you ready?” Xavier asked, placing a hand on the small of your back. You let out a small yelp, not used to him being able to touch your skin so easily like this. You looked over at Xavier in his own swim clothes, almost wanting to blush. Of course this man would be the one who chose a speedo over something else.

Still, you began climbing up onto one of the two floats you had. Your body dipped into the water below you and kept you cool and you let out a content sigh. You watched Xavier follow suit, getting comfortable. The lounge float was just as comfortable as you had come to expect and you were living for it.

You put on your sunglasses as you relaxed and turned to Xavier, “Hey Xav?” You called out, making the blonde man hum next to you, “If I fall asleep, you have to promise to wake me up.” You said, knowing you were playing a risky game at the moment.

“Only if you promise to wake me as well.” Xavier said and you could hear the small yawn he let out. You rolled over to your stomach and realized this position was even better.

“Xavier, if I fall asleep and you fall asleep then we’re screwed. Someone needs to be responsible.” You comment with a light chuckle. You watched Xavier paddle his float over to you. He hooked his leg over part of your float and grabbed your hand, making it rest on his own.

“If we stick together like this and keep talking, then we have a better chance at staying awake.” He noted. Well he certainly was right, and being this close to Xavier was certainly a treat. You could ogle the plains and valleys of his well sculpted body perfectly like this.

Sadly it seemed you two forgot one very important fact…how you two always managed to pass out during naps while talking. You don’t even know when you fell asleep, or how long you were passed out. All you know is when you woke up you looked at Xavier. His pale skin was currently a bright red as he laid on his back, sunglasses on and you knew you were screwed.

You didn’t even need to see your back to know you were burned. Your skin felt hot and uncomfortable and if you could see it you’d notice just how angry it looked. You went to poke Xavier, flinching to yourself when you saw the spot on his cheek you poked turn white then back to red.

Xavier groaned as he opened his eyes and turned to look at you. Even with his sleepy vision he could see your current condition. He let out a gasp, going to sit up and forgetting he was on a float as he crashed into the water below him.

You couldn’t help but laugh as he came up, shaking some water from his hair. Without his sunglasses you could see the sunburn went around his eyes, “Xavier…we fucked up.” You said after a moment.

“I can…see that.” He said, looking over your back then down to his chest, “We should head indoors.” He said, going to grab your hand gently. You got off of your float and Xavier grabbed both of them in one arm while still holding your hand. You followed him to his apartment and you noticed how he had a serious look on his face as he forced you through the corridors of the complex. Your complaints about leaving a wet trail from the floats and your body went unheard.

You had to admit the moment you got into his cool apartment you felt a bit better. Xavier finally let go of your hand and dragged the floats to his bathroom, probably to let them dry in the shower. “Sit down on the couch, but be careful.” Xavier said, his calm voice echoing through the apartment.

You had no idea what had gotten into him, but you did just as instructed. You winced as you sat down, your sunburned ass stinging with the smallest movements. When Xavier came back, he was holding a large tub of something.

“Lay on your stomach.” He said and you were still confused as you did just that. He walked behind you and soon you let out a long, drawn out groan of relief. The item in his hand was a cream or sorts and was cool. It soothed your irritated skin as he gently began massaging it into your skin.

“What’s that…?” You groaned, knowing it was familiar but you were still tired from your nap and couldn’t think properly.

“It’s some aloe. I had some just in case.” He said, his small laugh was like music to your ears, “I apologize, you’re burned because I couldn’t keep my promise.”

You hummed and looked back at him as he began working the aloe into the back of your thighs, “We both failed, Xavier. Maybe if you kiss it better it’ll heal for me.” You joked. You hadn’t expected Xavier’s cool lips to press on your burned shoulders. It did feel nice as you melted into it, his lips trailing gentle kisses over the worst burns. He then continued to put the aloe over all those areas as well.

“You’re probably more burned than I am anyways. Did you even use sunscreen?” You comment after a few moments of silence. You had made sure to put some on before heading to the pool, but after hours of the sun even the sunblock wouldn’t be able to keep up without being reapplied liberally.

“I’ll be fine, I just need a nap.” He said, his large hands finishing their massage on all the pieces of skin you were burned. You slowly sat up, but Xavier went to push you back down, “And so do you. But first you need water.” He commented.

You smiled over at him and grabbed hold of his hand as he tried leaving, “Not so fast. We need to take care of your burns.” This time he didn't stop you as you sat back up. You saw the jar next to you and looked back at him. “Lay on your back, I’ll put some aloe on you.”

“That’s not necessary.” Xavier tried to protest with a pout, but you weren't having it.

“Xavie baby.” You said, calling him a nickname that always got him to blush, “Let me take care of you. Come on.” You said, motioning for him to do as you said. He let out a sigh and finally laid down.

You smiled, looking down at him as you covered your hands in the green goop. Today might’ve had a few failures, but being able to rub down Xavier’s body was almost a reward in itself. You then saw Xavier look off to the side then back to you.

“Perhaps if you kiss it better it’ll help them heal faster.” He said, using your words against you. You chuckled as you leaned down, kissing his cheeks before he grabbed your face. You were confused as he brought you in for a proper kiss.

“It hurts the most here.” He said after parting, running his thumb over his own lip. You chuckled, pressing another kiss there.

“Then it looks like I’ll have you pay extra attention to it.” You said, then kissed him again. Perhaps the sunburns weren’t that bad if this was the aftermath.

Zayne

Why Zayne never used the pool at his luxury apartments was beyond you. There were never any children running around, and oftentimes during the weekdays people were at work and couldn’t relax over there. That meant on your days off, it was just the two of you and a very nice and well kept pool. Yet whenever you brought it up, he would always say if you wanted to go he would, but he’s not planning on going by himself anytime soon.

So as soon as summer hit and the heatwave was at an alltime high already, you were dragging Zayne towards the elevator to head down to the pool. Your excitement was evident as Zayne adjusted the pool bag he had prepared. It was a large side bag and you were certain he kept a little bit of everything in there.

When the elevator hit the bottom level, you grabbed hold of his hand and began literally dragging him, “Come now, the pool won’t be going anywhere.” Zayne tried to assure you, but you weren't having none of that.

“The pool might remain, but every second spent dawdling is a second wasted.” You comment, “Time leaves us constantly so we need to catch up.”

He sighed and shook his head. As soon as you left the air conditioned building it was already sweltering hot. You could almost feel sweat clinging to your skin as you made your way to one of the pool chairs. Zayne had already opened the umbrella and laid towels down for the two of you.

Meanwhile you stripped off your pool cover and were about to run straight into the water. As soon as Zayne noticed your movements, he thought fast. Two large hands cupped under your armpits as he brought you up like a naughty cat trying to sneak off. You laid limp in his grasp as you processed what happened.

You slowly turned to him with a pout, “Zayne, what the ever loving fuck?”

“Eloquent with your speech as usual.” He teased as he went to set you down under the umbrella covered chair, “Aren’t you forgetting an important step?” He asked and you sighed with an eye roll.

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ as you looked away from the man.

“Perhaps I should remind you that sunscreen is necessary. I agreed to come to the pool if you made an effort to protect your skin.” He said and you groaned, “I’m sure you’re aware that a light skin tone only has a natural 4-5 spf, while skin with higher melanin has the max of 13.5 spf. That means no matter your skin tone, you still need to protect your skin.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, “Oh please keep talking about medical things with me, Zayne.” You joked and he shook his head.

“Your skin is the largest and one of the most important organs of your body, please treat it with the respect it deserves.” He said, grabbing the sunblock he had brought with him, “Now come here, I’ll help you apply it.”

“I can do it myself.” You protested, but he was already putting some of the cream into his hands. He looked up at you from his prescription sunglasses.

“I’m sure you could.” He said, “However I need to make sure you're covered properly and with enough product it’ll do its job.” He explained with an almost smile on his face. You rolled your eyes before opening your arms up so he could properly get you covered.

You glanced at the bottle and almost choked on your spit, “SPF 100? Isn’t that overkill?” You asked with an incredulous expression.

“Not at all, however we will need to reapply it after about an hour and a half since we’ll be swimming. I’ll make sure to set a timer.” He said and you once again groaned…that was until his hands were on you.

He had purposefully cooled his own hands as he began massaging the product into your arms, chest, stomach, and legs. His hands glided over your body respectfully as he made sure you were properly covered, eventually having you turn around so he could apply it to your back. You jumped when his frigid hands pressed on the back of your neck.

“H-Hey!” You whined and he just chuckled.

“My apologies, I’m just being thorough.” He explained as he worked on your back now. Once your body was covered you turned back to face him. You hadn’t expected his large hands to cup your face as he smeared some of the sunscreen there. Your hands went to wrap around his wrists as you tried backing away, but his grip was firm, “Stop fighting, unless you want a sunburned nose.” He scolded.

You finally huffed and relaxed into his touch. You were startled when he left your face, only to come back and press something over your lips. You opened your eyes and noticed he had a lip balm, one that also had some spf in it. You smacked your lips, noticing how it tasted sweet.

“Better?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes, but.” You said and he hummed. You tugged him over to you, placing a kiss on his lips. He didn’t fight it, leaning in as your lips met his in a short and cute kiss. “You needed some chapstick too…”

“I appreciate you helping me put it on.” He said with an amused huff.

“Can I swim now?” You suddenly asked after buttering him up; already you were getting up. He gripped your waist and dragged you back down.

“Wait twenty minutes after applying sunblock before being exposed to the UV rays.” He said and now you just knew he hated you. You looked at him with pouty eyes and he just smiled at you, “Would you like to help me apply sunblock to help pass the time?”

Now you perked up at that offer, your hands already twitching as you nodded your head. He took off his own cover up and exposed his chest and you had to fight the urge to lick your lips at the sight. How he managed to be in shape while overworking himself was a mystery, but damn were you grateful for it.

You put some sunblock into your hands, running them over Zayne’s chest first and oh my goodness how were you going to be able to survive this. You could feel every single muscle of his as you massaged it in, looking up at him from time to time as you tried to remain focused.

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you realized how much you wished you weren’t out in public right now so you could squeeze his chest. You remained professional though and applied the sunblock liberally, and were almost disappointed when it all ended. Still, you both were now covered and you looked over at Zayne’s phone. He had already set a time and it said you had fifteen minutes before you could jump into the pool.

“Zayne, do we have to be a stickler for sunblock rules?” You asked after another five minutes. He looked over at you curiously.

“Are you asking me as your boyfriend, or as your doctor?” He asked and you huffed, rolling on your stomach on the towel.

“I hope you know imma spend the next hour and a half in that pool and I’m dragging you in there the entire time.” You said and he chuckled as he went to his bag and grabbed two drinks. There were two cans of milk tea and when he handed one to you, you noticed how cold it was. You sighed and opened it up, taking a sip, “But I guess this isn’t too bad.” You comment looking at the water.

“My top priority is your safety, however perhaps we can break a few rules. I’ll let you get in five minutes early.” Zayne said, clicking on his phone’s timer. You looked over and noticed you had six minutes left. Your eyes widened as you realized what he said.

You handed him your drink and as soon as the timer had a ‘five’ on it, you were running into the water.

Rafayel

“Fuck you, pufferfish.” You said, shoving the purple haired man out of the way, “I’m getting in first!” You cried out, your feet hitting the hot cement outside of his personal pool. The man in question was right behind you as he went and grabbed hold of you.

His grip on your wrist had you dragging behind him, “Tough luck, pearl, but the pool is mine.” He said, gaining the lead in his mad dash to the water.

This all started when you had been lounging at Rafayel’s home, realizing just how hot it was. His air conditioner was working, sure, but it was still balmy since you were right by the beach. Sweat clung uncomfortably to your skin as you had glanced over at the artist.

“Rafayel, it’s too humid.” You complained and Rafayel looked over at you. You could see the sweat dripping down his neck so clearly he was in a similar situation as you. He seemed to think something over quickly and then smiled.

“Perhaps I could take a break.” He mused, “I do have a pool out there. That should help with the current situation.” He said and you hummed. The thought of spending the day in a private pool was so nice. You had swam in his pool before, it had a tanning ledge, a hot tub with a small waterfall that bled into the pool, and several pool lounges. He had everything you could ask for really, which was to be expected.

“Let’s do it. I’ll grab some drinks.” You said, hopping off the couch and running to the kitchen. Rafayel called out for you, but you didn't hear him as you raced to his fridge. An assortment of soda and juices were stocked thanks to your insistence he have other things than just coffee and water.

You went for the apple juice, deciding it would be refreshing enough for a day like this. Rafayel had some tumblers that would keep it ice cold while you were outside. As you stood back up you bumped into Rafayel’s chest. You spun to look at him in surprise, “Uh need something?” You murmured.

“I asked if you had a swimsuit.” He chuckled and you realized that you didn’t have one at his place. You groaned and looked at him with a pouty face.

“No…” You mumbled and he shook his head.

“That’s fine, I bought you a few just in case. I’ll grab them for you.” Well isn't he being nice and accommodating. Something was up. Your eyes narrowed as you followed him. He went to his closet and that’s when you discovered the swimsuit line up he had.

They were either very promiscuous, or downright ridiculous. He looked between you and the suits and you groaned. You grabbed a pair with rubber ducks decorating it and looked at him, “You sir, are an asshole.” You said, heading to his bathroom.

“I did nothing wrong.” He said, a hand over his heart as you closed the door and quickly got changed. When you came out you choked on your spit. Standing in front of you was Rafayel, with a matching swimsuit.

“I fucking hate you.” You laughed, realizing now why he had gone through the trouble of getting these swimsuits. It was so you guys could match at his pool, “Wait, so if I had gone for the revealing one…?” You trailed off.

“It’s too late for that now, pearl.” He teased, “But I’ll have you know they make very flashy male swimsuits nowadays, in several different styles.” So the ones he showed you…damn you regret your decision. Still, seeing him in something ridiculous like that was enough to make you less bitter.

“Fine, whatever, let’s just get to the pool.” You said, walking out with Rafayel following you, then you said the most childish thing of the day, “Last one in's a rotten egg!” You then began booking it.

You forgot that the two of you combined was a bad case of competitiveness. It led you to the now, where you both were playing dirty to get into the cool pool. You were screaming at one another, attempting to trip or thwart the other.

As soon as you were at the edge, Rafayel yanked you back. You hooked your ankle around his to hold him in place. However this caught both of you off balance. Next thing you knew, the cool water was enveloping the two of you. You looked at Rafayel under the water with wide eyes as you two realized what had happened.

You broke through the water and began laughing immediately. Rafayel soon emerged as well, grabbing onto your shoulders and pouting, “You dropped me into the water.” He whined and you were still laughing.

“I dropped us into the water.” You corrected him. He couldn’t help the smile on his face at the confession.

“Ya, I guess you did.” He huffed before using his weight to push you down. You could hear his voice clearly despite being under water, “But that doesn’t mean I can let you go without punishment, my dear bodyguard.”

You went to scream but you knew your lungs would fill up. Rafayel then dunked his head under the water and swam closer to you. He took his hands over your eyes, covering them and you felt a soft peck on your lips.

Suddenly you could breathe underwater and you chuckled at his antics. He took his hands away as he looked at you with eyes swimming with mischief.

“You’re the absolute worst, fish.” You said, dragging him closer to you. You pressed another kiss on his lips, and you loved how red his cheeks and ears got.

“How am I the worst? You’re supposed to protect me, yet you let me fall in the water.” He complained, but his arms were wrapping around you as he said so. His nose nuzzled against your own as he held onto you.

“Oh how cruel of me to put the fish back into water. I’m just the worst.” You said with a sigh, “Now come on, I want to soak in the sunshine.” You began tugging him to the surface of the water. Despite his pouting, he allowed you to drag him up.

You went over to the tanning ledge, laying on your stomach and relaxed. “Need sunglasses?” Rafayel said, swimming next to you and splashing you with the water.

“Do you have some?” You asked and he shrugged before his eyes furrowed.

“Hey…how are your feet?” He asked and you looked confused. You sat up and looked to see if you had managed to get a cut on your foot at some point. You didn’t see anything as you turned back to him.

“They’re fine…why?” You asked.

“Good…think you could run and get us sunglasses then? They should be near the front.” He said with a smirk, knowing he got you.

This time you would admit, you did push him into the water…well more like kicked him. He was the one asking for it though as he let out a shrill scream before the large splash of water filled your ears. You regretted nothing.

Did y'all hear what Zayne said? Apply sunblock 20 minutes before being exposed to UV rays, no matter what skin color you got. Reapply every 1 - 2 hours as well if you're going to be swimming or sweating a lot (or as directed by the bottle). Your skin is a large and important organ of your body so take care of it you guys!