#maybe I’ll just share the “big moments’’

[little-diable]

Crimson River - Tyler Owens (smut)

This came to me while overthinking a situation I'm currently stuck in lol. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader and Tyler have been chatting online for months, and now it's time for them to finally meet in real life. Porn with some plot

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, some spitting, full on fluff

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (2.5k words)

“So, when will I get to share these songs with you face to face?” Her thumbs were hovering over her keyboard, eyes flickering from his text to her calendar. (Y/n)’s heart was pounding, beating in her chest while her teeth tugged on her lower lip.

It could be easy, too easy almost. 

“How’s the weekend looking for you, you busy tornado wrangler?” Heat shot to her cheeks, leaving her to burn up while putting down her phone. This was crazy, and yet she couldn’t find it in herself to back down, not when she could finally meet him.

Him, the guy she had been texting for months now.

Him, the guy she had first bonded over music with, sharing a similar taste. 

Him, the guy whose every storm chasing stream she had watched ever since he had shared more about himself with her. 

“If it means I get to see you, I’ll hold it free, sweetheart.” A chuckle broke out of her. (Y/n) deeply exhaled before shaking her head at her screen. This was crazy, but the best kind of crazy, something she desperately needed to rip herself out of her daily routine. 

“Count me in, I’ll book my flights now.”

……

Her thoughts were racing, just like her heart. (Y/n) moved with the big crowd, knowing that she was about to step out into the arrivals hall, where he was already waiting for her. She was unable to shake the heat sticking to her, still not fully realising that she was about to cross paths with the man she had been in touch with for months without ever meeting him. 

And then she instantly saw him, eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame, a gravitational field that left her buzzing in excitement. His strong arms found their way around her, pressing (y/n) against him while she sank into the hug. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally here.” With a kiss pressed to her temple, Tyler let go of her to reach for her bag. She could only smile up at him, taking in the handsome face she had seen on her screen too many times to count.

“Thank you for picking me up.” (Y/n) tried to rip her gaze from him, eyes set on the crowd he directed her through with one hand placed on her lower back. Her mind picked apart every little detail, their height difference, the scent of his cologne she’d probably never forget again, the way his warm hand felt pressed against her back. All of it left her buzzing, tingling in excitement. 

Only as she found herself sitting in his truck did she allow herself to relax and breathe. Tyler had instantly managed to lure her into a conversation, making her feel as if they had met up numerous times before today. And yet (y/n) still struggled to realise that this was really happening, that she was so close to the handsome man she had fostered a crush on for quite some time now. 

“I thought tonight we could go for something slow, maybe watch a movie? And tomorrow you’ll get to meet the crew.” He shot her one of his signature smiles, hand finding her thigh for a second. The touch felt intimate, shooting heat straight to the spot while her mind hyper fixated on the way electricity kept pushing through her as if lighting kept hitting her over and over again. 

“That sounds perfect, thank you.” She could already tell that a weekend was not nearly enough, parting again would hurt more than she could even imagine at that very moment. 

……

The screen of his TV kept flickering on, casting shadows in the spacey living room. It had been a while since they had arrived at his place. Both had opted for some downtime first before they’d get to cooking and sharing a meal. Even though she was slowly adjusting to being around Tyler, it still felt somewhat surreal, like a dream she’d be ripped from too soon.

“Hey, are you okay?” She had her feet pressed against his thigh, eyes flickering to them as Tyler softly squeezed her skin. The touch made her sink further into the couch, hoping that the way he made her feel wasn’t all that obvious to Tyler. But the smirk slowly tugging on his lips told her that he was all too aware of the way she struggled to hold it together, unable to speak much. 

Only a hum broke through (y/n), a sound that turned into a quiet gasp the second he tugged on her feet to place her legs over his thighs. One of his hands found space between her knees, grabbing her flesh while the other settled on top. 

How in God's name was she supposed to survive this? 

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” Tyler stopped the movie without taking his eyes off her features. She couldn’t help but wonder how he was already able to read her that well, how he managed to pick up on micro expressions even her closest friends would most likely miss. 

“It’s just surreal, all of this, finally talking to you and being close to you. I knew we’d get along well, but,” the rest of her sentence was lost in the quietness of the room. Tyler’s thumb stroked along the fabric of her trousers, patiently watching her.

“But this is different.” He finally managed to finish her sentence, unable to bite down the smile both couldn’t shake now. “I know what you mean, I was hoping it’d work that well like it does when we text, but this is so much better.” 

Another hum left (y/n), she pulled her legs from his grasp to shift around, finding confidence in the way he had just expressed what she had also been feeling. Slowly, carefully almost, (y/n) placed her head against his chest, instantly pulled closer by the arm finding its way around her. Tyler pressed a kiss to her hairline before he started the movie again, unable to see the bright smile she now wore, perfectly matching his.

……

(Y/n)’s legs were dangling off the kitchen counter, eyes following Tyler around as he cooked for them. Music was filling the kitchen, playing a playlist both had crafted over the past months, their own personal blend. Ever since their moment on the couch, both had been unable to shake their smiles, hearts racing in sync. 

“Here, do you like that?” Tyler found himself settling between her thighs, looking at her while pushing the spoon past her parted lips. The moment had something awfully intimate to it, pushing heat through both of them. (Y/n) could only nod her head, not noticing how her legs had loosely found their way around his thighs, keeping him close.

Tyler’s thumb found her mouth, brushing away a bit of sauce clinging to her skin, a touch that made her breath hitch in her chest. She kept looking at him, getting lost in the piercing eyes that had seen more tragic glimpses of this life than (y/n) could ever imagine, and yet they were filled with a burning longing. 

For a few more seconds they kept holding eye contact, torn apart by his phone timer going off. Tyler had to clear his throat before he could focus on finishing dinner, trying not to pay her intense gaze any of his attention. He knew all too well that he was close to snapping, close to crossing the last line between them to press his lips against hers.

But as much as Tyler wanted to kiss her, to taste her like he had done numerous times in his dreams, he knew that he should take things slow. He didn’t want to push things too far on their first night together, all Tyler was focused on was seeing her comfortable and happy.

“We could eat outside if you want, stars should be out by now.” Her heart was close to jumping out of her chest, freed by the heat his words made her feel. Months ago he had shared a picture of the starry sky he was fortunate enough to look at whenever he was home, a sight that had left her to confess that she desperately wanted to see them too.  

“Thank you, Tyler.” (Y/n)’s words carried more meaning than he picked up on, not seeing through the adoration swimming in her pupils. 

……

“Tyler.” (Y/n) mumbled his name, eyes set on his features. They were still sitting on the bench outside his home, sharing a blanket to keep them shielded from the cold night. His eyes flickered down to meet hers, patiently waiting for her to keep on speaking. “Will you finally kiss me?”

Her words drew a loud laugh from him, he shook his head at (y/n) who could only grin up at him. Tyler’s hand found her cheek, wordlessly asking her to keep on looking at him while his eyes wandered over her features, “And here I was trying to be a gentleman.”

(Y/n)’s reply was lost on the tip of her tongue as he dipped his head down. Tyler’s lips ghosted over her’s, drawing a soft whine out of (y/n) as he kept a small distance between them. Only as her hand found his jacket, tugging on the fabric to pull him closer, did he properly kiss her. 

The kiss shot shudders down her spine, making hairs rise on her forearms while shuffling closer. Within moments she found herself straddling his lap, front pressed against his to cross any distance still lingering between them like two lonely ships crossing the sea to find back to one another, guided by nothing but their need to be close. 

Their lips moved perfectly together, the kiss wasn't rushed, but it was fuelled by their longing which had grown stronger over the past months. Tyler’s hands settled on her waist, fingers toying with the hemline of her sweater, set on feeling her warm skin pressed against his. For a moment they broke apart, grasping onto new air to fill their burning lungs. 

“Stop me anytime you want, sweetheart.” (Y/n) searched his lips again, not giving Tyler a chance to speak another word while his hands found her burning up skin. Her wandering fingers found his hairs, brushing through them to draw a moan from Tyler, a sound that vibrated on her lips and through her whole body. 

He didn’t speak a warning as he suddenly stood up, holding onto (y/n) to carry her back inside. With her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist, she let him carry her inside and towards his bedroom. Both were heavily breathing after pulling apart, chests rising and falling while chuckles broke out of them.

(Y/n) let him pull her sweater over her head, exposing her bra to his wandering eyes. The groan rumbling through Tyler made her grin, letting her hands reach for his belt loops to pull him closer, expertedly undoing his belt, “I know we should take this slow, but I really need you to fuck me now after all these months.”

“You’re killing me, sweetheart.” Their eyes held contact as she freed his hardening cock, letting his trousers drop to the ground. Tyler’s moans spurred her on, allowing her to marvel at the handsome man while pumping his length a few times. But Tyler didn’t have the patience to drag this out long enough, he gave her a push back, tugged her trousers and panties down her legs while (y/n) undid her bra. “You’re the prettiest sight, fuck, I’m the luckiest man.”

“Says you, I mean look at you.” She could only stare at him as the rest of his clothing was dropped, exposing his abs and his muscular chest – all while his fingers began to wander up her legs. He pressed kisses to her soft skin, sucking on her flesh as his fingertips ghosted over her warm folds, feeling her arousal already sticking to her skin. 

Tyler kept his gaze on her features as he spat down on her heat, spreading his saliva on her warm skin. He circled her pulsing bundle a few times to draw soft moans from (y/n), needing to hear them as if they were his favourite drug, high on her sounds. For a second, he parted from her to find a condom, to roll it down his cock, and to brush his tip through her folds. 

“Look at me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) looked up at Tyler, feeling herself getting choked up from the way he looked at her. Something she’d only be able to describe as love swam in his pupils – a love so intense it only grew stronger as he pushed into her. Her eyes instantly fluttered shut at the sensation, fingernails scratching at his skin, walls fluttering around him. Tyler held still for a second, giving her time to adjust before he dipped his head down to kiss her.

Their bodies met with every thrust, allowing (y/n) to feel him deep inside of her, stretching her with every move. With every contact even more sinful sounds began to claw through them, reverberating through his bedroom like a song woven together from shared experiences and unspoken longings. 

“You feel so good, fuck, Tyler.” Her words left him chuckling, he kissed his way down her throat, finding the spots that made her arch her back while she tightened the grasp of her legs around his waist. Tyler was fully focused on making her cum first, needing to watch her fall over the edge while knowing that he was the reason for the sweet sensation she was about to get tangled up in. 

“Touch yourself, sweetheart, make yourself cum on my cock.” Tyler’s voice grew raspier and lower with every syllable he spoke. Both were staring at one another, wordlessly telling them that they were ready to let go any moment now. Her fingers moved fast, giving herself the needed push with his name bleeding from her lips.

Tyler found himself falling in love with (y/n) some more as she came, eyes taking in every inch of her pleasure drunken features. He gave it a few more thrusts before he came, letting go with a groan while (y/n) kept clinging to him. 

“Christ, you’re perfect.” He pressed another kiss to her lips before pulling out. And at that moment, Tyler knew that he’d have to confess his feelings soon. Not tonight, perhaps not tomorrow morning, but the love bleeding from the tip of his tongue like a crimson river would pave the way for their following time together soon enough.

[kiddiesmores]

“𝟖𝟔 𝐌𝐚𝐡𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐡𝐢”: 𝟖𝟔 𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Schlatt takes you home from work only to end up staying the night..

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT BRO. SMUT. More afab leaned but there is the use of she/girl, Schlatt is pretty dominant here, grrrr.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.8k

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐞: Yall. I’m so sorry for how long this took, lost my spark but I THINK I GOT IT BACK LETS GOOOOOO. Thank you @michibap for being my savior and giving me the push I needed to finish this chapter. I promise not to leave yall hanging for a month next time! (Might make it two if yall are mean to me again.) ENJOY!! I LOVE U!!! Also this picks up right where chapter two left off, to avoid your confusion.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

You look up at Schlatt with a grateful smile, taking the to-go box from him and opening it to see he did, in fact, give you broccoli with your food.

“I’m not eating that by the way.” you mutter, looking up at him with a quirked brow and a wag of your finger, making him chuckle as he shut the box with a shrug. “Yknow what I said, don’t eat it and you’ll have to pay me back for it.” He jokes, watching you groan and grumble as you put the to-go box in your bag.

You fiddle with your fingers, “There’s something I wanted to uh- ask you.” you mumble, dodging his gaze by taking interest in the wine selection on the table.

“Shoot.” he shrugs.

“Do you think you could maybe take me home?”

He stares at you for a second, digesting your question. He grins cockily, “You can’t drive yet?” he teases, leaning down further and watching your mouth flounder.

“It’s a work in progress okay!”

“Sure it is. Course I can, c'mon toots.” He nods, holding his hand out for you to take which you gladly do, gathering your belongings and heading out the to-go door as he shuts off the lights.

He locks up the doors, pointing you in the direction of his truck. “Didn’t take you as a truck driving guy.” You mock, making him scoff.

“Big words with someone with no license.”

“Get off my ass? Please?”

He sucks air through his teeth, “Don’t think I will, actually.” He smirks, opening the passenger door for you with a snicker when you roll your eyes, hopping in and flipping him off as he closes the door.

“So yeah, then Maggie told Chase that she knew all about it the entire time! And that she was just waiting for him to slip up on his own!”

“Wait-wait-wait- I’m behind, aren’t they married?”

“YES BRO.”

“Good lord.” Schlatt chuckles, a hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on your thigh as you fill him in on work drama that he doesn’t pay attention to.

“How did you not know about any of this? Swear we’ve all been talking about it for like- months!” you giggle, gazing at him as he shrugs and keeps his eye on the road. “I leave that to Rosie, none of my business.” You scoff, “All of it actually, you hired him!” “I didn’t know he’d fuck Kassie!”

You both fall forward with laughter, wiping a tear from your eye as you cough out a few more giggles, noticing him turning into your complex. A small pout forms on your lips as you realize your little venture home is over when he parks in front of your building.

He squeezes your thigh for a brief moment, looking over at you softly while you stare ahead,half smiling at the evident look of disappointment on your face. “I’ll uh..walk you up?” He mutters, causing your head to turn to him, “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

You smile nervously, mumbling a small, “Okay,” as you grab your bag, jumping out the ridiculously expensive truck as he turns it off, moving to wait for you on the sidewalk.

“After you?” he asks, holding a hand out for you to hold while you giggle and take it, guiding him upstairs to lead him to your shared apartment. As you approach your place your heart pounds, slowly turning to face him with your back pressed against the cool door.

“I’m right here- good ole 416B..” you mumble, looking up at him. The moon is full, the illumination softly painting his face as he gazes down at you, all meek and small in stature, he thinks you look absolutely adorable. His thumb grazes the back of your hand, a small chuckle escaping him as he takes in your nervous eyes and smiles. “Thank you for taking me home, I really appreciate it.” you whisper, feeling him lean in closer, his breath hitting your lips as you start to do the same.

“Anytime..” he whispers back, staring into your eyes. You both linger for a moment, waiting to see what happened next. “You gonna kiss me or…?” you ask, tilting your head with a coy smile, making him roll his eyes and close the distance. Your lips mold together, holding in place for a moment before he parts only for a moment, pulling you back in for another. And another. And another.

Your tote is on the ground, arms wrapped around his neck while you lean up on your tiptoes and his strong arms wrap around your torso. A soft sigh escapes you between kisses, gasping as his lips travel from your lips to your jaw down to your neck. “Schlatt..” you whisper, eyes shut as he lightly sucks on the warm skin of your neck with a gentle groan.

“Do you wanna come in?” you mumble, eyes still closed as you feel him pull back. He stares down at you for a second, your eyes fluttering back open to meet his stare, “Yeah, yeah I do.”

It all happened so quickly.You unlock the door with haste and slam your bag down on the floor, both of you immediately kissing again and even somehow managing to wrap your legs around his waist, as he carries you to your bedroom. He steps on your roommate's dog toy, causing you both to pull apart with a yelp, quickly looking at each other before giggling, heads tilting to rest on each other to catch your breath before patting his shoulder to put you down.

You take your hand in his, guiding him to your bedroom, pushing open the door to be met with the soft lighting of the moon shining through your open blinds.

Your room was foreign to him, obviously. Accents of pinks and forest green decor scattered across your bed spread and posters. A few pieces of laundry on your floor, your backpack for class on your desk chair and a bulletin board of pictures above it, your room was for sure lived in. He found himself staring at the pictures of you and your friends you had scattered, turning to sit down at the edge of your bed and—woah.

His eyes lit up as they landed on the cat tree in the corner, inspecting it while you turned the lamp on on your bedside table. “You have a cat?” he asks, looking around the room.

You nod, “Yeah, she’s a little scared of new people, mostly guys so just give her a second! Missy? C'mere baby!” you call, hearing a muffled “meooow” from under your bed and a black and red paw swatting from underneath. “Aww there you are, come out and say hi!” you coo, pulling her from underneath and cradling her in your arms like a baby.

Schlatts eyes lit up, awwing as he scratched at the calicos head, taking her from your arms as her head digs against his hand. “She really likes you! And she is a D1 man hater!” you beam, scratching under her chin as he holds her against him with a chuckle. “Nahh, she’s a doll, just like her mom.” he quips, winking at you as your brain malfunctions.

He pretends not to notice, setting Missy down in her cat tree with a kiss to her head. You sit at the edge of your bed taking him in. His long black sleeve shirt and dark wash jeans are really doing it for you, the light stomp of his steel toed boots padding closer as he stands between you.

You look up at him, doe eyes meeting his low ones, whispering out a “Hi..” while you look up at him all pretty, making him offer you a sly smile in return before muttering back a “Hello.”

His knee digs between your legs to part them, hand cupping your neck as he leans down to kiss you again, making you whimper a bit as you lean back onto your bed, his body hovering above you. Soft smacks echo in the room, both of you hungrily nipping and biting each other's lips as your noses press together.

His hand slides down, gripping your waist, holding you in place as he grinds against your hips. You gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth with a low “Mmmf..” His grip tightens as he pulls away, a string of spit connecting you two while your eyes stare into his, full of admiration.

He returns the look with a smug smile, “I really did plan on taking you out before we did all this y'know..” he jokes, making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah yeah, just get my shorts off.” “Yes ma’am.”

As he starts to unbutton your shorts you peep your kitty in her cat tree, eyes widening before stopping him from going any further. “Wait!” you squeal, standing up and lightly shoving Schlatt to the side, making him grunt and land on the edge of your bed while you make your way to the cat tree to grab Missy.

You hold her up while Schlatt looks at you with a bewildered stare, making you smile sheepishly, “Didn’t want her to see..” you mutter, opening your door and setting her down to leave, which she does, just to go and scratch on your roommates door instead. As you shut the bedroom door you shuffle down your shorts, kicking them across your floor to join your pile of dirty ones.

Schlatt chuckles, making you turn around, “What?” you question with a small chuckle of your own. He shakes his head, “Your panties are cute.” he jokes, making you look down in fear. You totally forgot you were wearing underwear with smiley faces on them.

“Oh..” you mumble, making him laugh a little harder, shaking his head and waving you back over, “C'mere pretty.” he mutters, hands wrapping around your hips to drag you into his lap. You quickly oblige, thighs falling to both his sides as his hands rest on your ass, head tilted up to meet yours and flowing back into your heated kiss from earlier. His hands grip your ass making you moan into his mouth, mewling a bit as he rocks you back and forth.

He flips you back on the bed, bulge in his jeans pressing against your core. You whine, pulling back with a small pout, noticing he’s still fully clothed. “So I get naked and you’re still in..” you look down, “Boots, jeans, and your shirt?” you tease with a smile, watching as his tongue presses to the side of his cheek while he stands up. His hands quickly shuffle with his belt, muttering a “Fuck, hold on.” as he throws it on the floor, chucking his boots off simultaneously.

You can only stare in awe as his pants come next, lost to the sea of lost clothes leaving him in his shirt and boxers. Your thighs clench, the heat between your legs feeling more unbearable every second he’s not touching you. He notices your internal struggle with a smug grin, “Let’s get your shirt off baby.” He grunts, pulling from the hem up and over your head, your tits spilling out your bra from the force.

He stares shamelessly, whispering a small “Fuck.” before demanding for you to take it off, which you scramble to do. He groans at the sight of you, chest exposed and left in your cute panties, it’s a struggle not to just pull them to the side and pound you right then and there but he knew you needed more help first.

Your head tilts with confusion as he starts to get on his knees, gasping when he presses a kiss to the wet spot seeping through your underwear. He lets out a deep sigh, hands gripping your thighs and forcing them to stay apart. He looks up, eyes searching or any look of doubt on your face, which he doesn’t find, your eyes meeting his and hazily nodding for him to continue. He smiles, sinking his face in to pull your panties to the side with his teeth, the cool air from your bedroom hitting your glistening mound, making you hiss.

He buries his face into your heat, wasting no time lapping at your wet cunt while you moan above him, head thrown back onto your soft comforter as your feet curl and legs slightly thrash. He groans into you, palms gripping your thighs to push up your legs, catching a glimpse of your sweet contorted face.

You whine at the loss of his mouth, quieting as he shushes you and spreads your legs back apart. “I need you to put your legs here,” he pats his shoulders, “and lock your legs tight around my head, I don’t want to be able to move. Do you hear me?”

You bat your lashes with a meek nod, but that’s not good enough for him. “Speak. Do you. Hear me? I need to hear you say you want it sweetheart.” “Yes, yes..” you whimper, tightening a bit when he grumbles out a rough, “Good.” before yanking your panties down to your ankles, dropping them near his pants to take home later.

“Yer so pretty like this doll..” he mutters, diving back in to lap at your folds, waiting for you to follow his instructions. You let out a shaken breath, placing one leg on each shoulder and interlocking your thighs around his face, squeezing as tight as you can to keep him landlocked in place.

You taste so good, and god it’s driving him crazy but he needs you to squeeze tighter, but he knows this is your limit. He takes matters into his own hands, squeezing your thighs to lock him in further, letting out a deep groan when he hears your pitch get higher while you moan. His hips rut into the end of your bed at the taste and sound of you, only to growl when he hears you suddenly sound muffled.

He forcefully pulls back, your legs falling from the lack of stability making you gasp, eyes bulging as you stare down at his pissed off expression. “Wh-“

“If I can’t hear you when your legs are covering my ears, you aren’t loud enough.”

You shake your head, “My roommate-“ “I don’t fuckin care about that!” he interrupts, “I need to hear that pretty voice of yours or else I'm not gonna know if you like it.”

Your eyes soften, nodding with a small “Okay..” watching as he sighs and gets back into position. Your voice is low at first, high pitched but still quiet before you see him scowl up at you, silently telling you to be louder. You huff, head tilting back as you decide “fuck it” and let the pleasure take over you, the accidental edging really doing a number on you as you rut on his face while his tongue fucks your hole. He’s trapped between your legs just as he wanted, grunting and groaning at the taste of you coating his tongue while he ruts harder into the end of the bed.

You know you’re getting closer, hands gripping onto the sheets as you grind on his mouth, his nose bumping your clit ever so slightly but enough to send you over the edge. He loudly laps at your gushing cunt, hands spreading your legs with ease while he looks up at you with a mischievous smile, staring into your eyes as the tip of his tongue glides between your puffy folds and lands on your clit, swirling with a playful look in his eye as you try to push him away weakly with your hand.

“Please..” you mutter, making him chuckle lightly as he presses one more kiss to your pussy before slowly crawling back up and hovering over you. “Wanna taste yourself baby?” he grumbles, watching as you nod slowly and dumb, batting your pretty lashes as his mouth gets closer to yours.

Your eyes shut as he kisses you, huffing quietly as you suck on his tongue making him groan. He feels your hand slowly slides under his shirt causing him to suck in heavily through his nose, reaching behind himself to catch it from going too far. You flinch,“Oh m’sorry-“ “You have nothing to be sorry for.” he comforts softly, lips moving to kiss your neck.

He struggles internally, brain rapidly reminding him not to sink his teeth into your skin, not trying to mark any visible places to avoid your embarrassment at work. Instead, his lips trail to your tits, sucking and nipping on your left while his hand gropes your right. He alternates, leaving a trail of hickeys down the valley of your breasts while gazing hungrily up at you through high lashes, laying his tongue flat against your nipple.

Your sweet gasps and huffs rile him up further, finally deciding you’ve had enough when you stare down at him with your eyes just as hungry as his. He stands back up, peering around the room scratching his head sheepishly, “You got a rubber?”

Your eyes widen for a moment with excitement, nodding and pointing to your bedside table, watching as he hovers over you and presses his bulge against your aching core while he rummages hrough your dresser, wicked grin on his face when he hears your high pitched mewl.

He finally finds one, looking you in the eye as he rips the package open with his sharp teeth, watching your chest rise and fall with labored breaths as you both anticipate what is to come.

He lets out a deep shaky sigh, head falling against your shoulder for a split second making your head turn to look at him confused, “Are you okay?” you whisper gently, hand cupping his nape, nails lightly scratching his hair. He nods into your shoulder, “I’m nervous as shit.” He gripes, causing a loud laugh to shoot out of you while you coo playfully, watching the faux scowl on his face form when he looks at you.

You aww, kissing his nose, “Coulda fooled me..” you mutter, pressing another quick kiss to his lips, “Take your time..”

“Mnn..” he mumbles against your lips, free hand slipping down his boxers while he has you distracted. He grins as you pepper sweet little kisses on his cheeks, turning away to look down between your bodies as he lines up between your legs. You peep down as well, catching a glimpse of how big he truly is, muttering a small “Damn.” making him stifle out a laugh.

“That gonna fit?” “We’re about to see.” he jokes, slowly sinking the tip in making you both let out a deep groan. A trembling whimper escapes you, toes flexing as he slowly pushes deeper with a small shush in your ear, “You’re doing so good, just a bit more, can you take it?” He purrs, nipping your lobe, only receiving a rough grunt from you in response.

He tsks with a slick grin, “Words pretty, use your words.” He teases, pinching your hip slightly making you yelp, “Yes.” you hiss we he captures your lips once more, slowly bottoming out inside of you taking the air out of your lungs.

“Buuuhhh..” you let out while he sucked on his teeth, “Fuuuuck, see baby, shit- knew you could take it.”

He holds still for a moment, knowing if he moved he’d bust immediately. His face buried in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and mouthing at your skin, kissing up your jaw to your lips and resting his forehead against yours.

He takes another beat before whispering, “You ready pretty?”

“Uh-huh.” “Uh-huh,” He mocks, sliding out slowly with a sharp hiss and pressing back in with a deep groan, hands tightly gripping your hips as his mouth hangs open and his brows pull together. “Gonna move again baby okay?”

You start to nod, but you hear the click of his tongue, remembering he wants to hear you say it. “Okay..” you breathe, whimpering when he mutters a gruff “There’s my girl,” before slowly thrusting in and out. You felt insanely dizzy, trying to quiet your pathetic moans when your ears filled with the sounds of your slick and his harsh grunts and low groaning.

His hands roam from your hips to your stomach, feeling the bulge as he begins thrusting all the way in, losing his control a bit as he gets more riled up. Your feet flex, moans airy and high pitched as your eyes remain squeezed shut, which simply won’t do for him.

He takes one hand and brings it to your jaw, holding your face in front of his as he slips a finger in between your pouty lips, “Open those eyes for me pretty, let me look at ya..”

He doesn’t miss the way your teeth grit to hold back from yelling out from the immense pleasure he’s giving you, landing you a slap on the side of your thigh, “Don’t fuckin hold out on me.”

His thumb bullies its way in your mouth, pressing on your tongue and watching you suck, keeping eye contact as you withdraw with a lewd ‘pop,’ throwing your head back with a drawn out moan. You weakly shake your head, catching yourself when you remember Brooke in the opposing room. “C-can’t,” you pant, “My roommate-“

He rolls his eyes, “Don’t fuckin care, let me hear ya.” He mutters, hands pushing up the bend of your legs to press them into your chest for a deeper angle. You can’t help but feel dizzy, throwing out your logical thinking and doing as he asks, gasping as he straightens your legs and holds them with an arm and resting your feet on his shoulder. He keeps you steady, huffing as he plunges into your dripping cunt with a hot kiss to your ankle, a proud grin on his face as you shamelessly moan out his name.

His head falls back, feeling you tighten around him, “Fuck- you look so pretty under me. Tighten up around me one more time like that shit.”

You’re a babbling mess under him, head spinning as if it’s on cloud nine, your body going lax in his grip. You know you can’t hold out much longer, all the while Schlatt’s teeth grit, determined to get you to cum before he does. You whimper about how close you are, hands clutching the sheets beneath you while he chuckles and presses in further, “What did I say baby, don’t hold out on me, come on. Come for me.”

He fucks you through your orgasm, your back arching as you call out for him. He’s not far behind, pressing as deep as possible and grunting loudly as he cums. He holds you there for a moment, basking in the feel of your pulsing core around him while he empties his load.

You both pant as he pulls out with a gruff sigh, lowering your legs and hips back down onto the mattress. He coos as you weakly rub your aching hip, pulling off the extremely full condom with lidded eyes as he stares down at you. He starts to tie it, but your stomach looks too bare.

It’s almost like clockwork, absentmindedly pouring his load onto your stomach and smearing it around with his thumb with a wicked grin on his lips when you mewl at the stickiness.

He falls next to you, hand cupping the side of your face as he asks if you’re okay, allowing you to catch your breath. You nod, sleepy eyes peering at him, “M’fine, are you staying the night?”

He blinks, thinking for a second, “Wasn’t planning on it but, might as well yeah?” He teases, finger lightly tickling under your chin making you giggle and clumsily swat his hand away.

The longer you lay there the ickier you feel, face scrunching whenever you try to roll over and feel his cum drying on your stomach. He makes you direct him to your bathroom, lifting you and carrying you inside so you pee. He sifts through your cabinet for a wash cloth, soaking it in warm water as you watch him from the toilet. He kneels to wipe at your stomach, a bit of his cum still wet to catch on his thumb.

He offers it to your puffy lips jokingly, which you take and lick off with a soft stare, making him groan a bit, grumbling out a “You minx,” before wiping the dried cum off with the wet towel.

When he finishes cleaning you up you hobble back to the bedroom in search of your phone, legs wobbling and causing him to chuckle as you resembled a baby deer.

Your phone lights up under the pile of discarded clothes, squinting when the brightness blinds you. You’re greeted with a string of texts, all from your roommate.

Bookie 🍓:“WHO IS DOING THIS TO YOU???”

Bookie 🍓:“A MAN IS DOING THIS?”

Bookie 🍓:“IS IT SCHLATT?? -CHARLIE”

Bookie 🍓:“EWEWEWEW YUCKKK (congrats) YUCKKKK”

Bookie 🍓: “Heard you say you want to be quiet because I’m here, thanks for thinking of me when bro is laying pipe ❤️”

Your face contorts, full of horror and slight amusement as you quickly type back about a million apologies for the noise and a promise to tell her all about it tomorrow.

Schlatt watches with confusion as his arm hangs sleepily above his head, watching you knock on the shared wall three times and receiving three back from the opposing side.

“What’s that all about?” he mutters, watching you turn back to look at him with a shy expression. “Just sayin sorry..” you mumble, shushing him as he cackles loudly, wiping a fake tear and opening his arms telling you to “Cmere.”

You crawl over to him, resting on top of him while he pulls the blanket to cover both your bodies. He lazily strokes your back, lightly pecking at your shoulder as you hum against his chest.

The two of you lay in silence for a bit, nuzzled in each other's warmth even when he turned you both to the side. He sighs deeply, making you sleepily look up at him with a confused stare. He shakes his head, “Gotta be up at 6 to be back at the store.” he grunts, lightly chuckling when you grimace with a small “Eugh.”

“Should probably get some sleep then yeah?” You joke as his thumbs stroke your hips, softly nodding before offering you one last kiss against your lips before the two of you fall asleep in each other's hold, faces pressed into each other's necks and breathing in your scents.

The next morning his alarm blares, causing you to flinch while he lazily reaches over to silence it. He grunts out a “Mornin’,” kissing your forehead. You hum sleepily, whining as he shuffles unwillingly out of your grasp with a light shush. He yawns and stretches as he stands, eyes tired as he tries to find his discarded clothes on the ground, muttering a low “Fuck!” when he steps on one of Missys toys, making you giggle.

“You gotta get this shit under control.” he glares, scoffing when you shrug with a teasing smile. He shakes his head as he dresses, feeling your eyes on him the entire time. “So about that date,” he starts, forcing his boots on, “There’s this diner I like downtown,” he looks at you over his shoulder, “You okay with breakfast for dinner?”

You smile sweetly with a nod, “That sounds perfect.”

He beams at you, standing and walking over to your side of the bed, leaning down to kiss your lips and stroking your cheek with his hand. “Good, I’ll grab ya around 8.”

You nod, kissing his palm as he slides it away from your face. He grabs his keys and wallet from your bedside table, walking to your bedroom door, “Get some more rest sweetheart, I’ll see ya tonight.” He reaches down to grab your panties from the night before, pocketing them with a sly grin.

“Have a good shift!” you mumble rolling your eyes playfully, sleepily waving goodbye with a tired smile which he returns, shutting your door behind him. There he met with Charlie, also saying bye to your roommate.

The two stare at each other for a moment, Charlie with a stupid shit eating grin and Schlatt with an expressionless stare.

He sighs as Charlie follows behind him, ignoring his snide comments about the two of you as they head out the door.

“Sooo, you and y/n huh?” he teases as he follows Schlatt down the stairs. Schlatt scoffs, “Bring it up at work and you’re dead.” He threatens, jaw tightening.

Charlie raises his hands in defense, “Heard!” he laughs, splitting ways on the way to his car as Schlatt heads to his truck.

Schlatt turns back before Charlie gets into his car, calling out for him, “But between us,”

He turns to look back at Schlatt, seeing the pleased smile on his face, “I like her a lot.”

Charlie smiles back, arms crossing as his head tilts, “You don’t say?”

[keekee-23]

Unexpected Melodies

A Damian Priest x Y/N fluff fanfiction

Side Note: Today is my birthday (Let the Libra season begin ♎️⚖️!), and I love me some jazz! I thought I would share another one-shot fic! Happy Fall, everyone!

Summary: Damian surprises Y/N with jazz festival tickets for her birthday, leading to a night of music and unexpected feelings between the two close friends.

Y/N was lounging in her New Jersey apartment, sipping on her favorite tea and reflecting on her upcoming birthday. It had been a tough year, filled with ups and downs, but she was grateful for the good friends in her life, especially Damian. Despite his busy wrestling schedule, he always found time to check in on her, offering words of encouragement and friendship that she deeply appreciated.

She glanced at her phone and saw a notification. It was a text from Damian: “Hey, what are your plans for your birthday this year?”

Y/N smiled, her heart warming at the thought of him remembering. She quickly replied, “Hey, D,” Y/N answered, leaning back on her couch.

“Hey, birthday girl,” Damian’s deep voice came through the phone, making her smile even wider. “Got any special plans for the big day?”

“Not really,” she admitted. “Just the usual dinner with the family. Maybe some drinks with friends. Nothing too crazy.”

There was a pause on the other end before Damian spoke again, his voice carrying a hint of excitement. “Well, I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What kind of surprise?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” Damian teased. “It involves music, relaxation, and spending some quality time with one of your favorite people.”

Y/N laughed. “Music and relaxation? Sounds like a spa day or something.”

“Not quite,” he said. “How do you feel about the South Jersey Jazz Festival?”

Her heart skipped a beat. The South Jersey Jazz Festival was one of her favorite events, and she hadn’t been able to attend in years. She loved jazz music, and the thought of being there, enjoying the performances and the atmosphere, made her giddy.

“I love the jazz festival,” she said, her voice full of excitement. “But what’s that got to do with—”

“Check your email,” Damian interrupted with a grin she could practically hear.

Furrowing her brow, Y/N quickly opened her email app. Her eyes widened as she saw a message from Damian with the subject line: Happy Birthday, Y/N! She clicked on it and gasped as she saw the attachment: two tickets to the South Jersey Jazz Festival.

“Damian, oh my God!” she exclaimed, her voice full of shock. “Are you serious?”

“Completely serious,” he replied, his tone smug. “I thought it would be a great way to celebrate your birthday. You love jazz, and I figured, why not?”

“But you’re into heavy metal!” Y/N protested, still reeling from the surprise. “Are you sure this is something you want to do?”

“I’m more into heavy metal, yes, but I also know how much you love jazz,” Damian said. “Besides, I think it’s high time I broaden my musical horizons. And who better to do that with than you?”

Y/N was silent for a moment, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. It wasn’t just the tickets or the festival itself; it was the fact that Damian was willing to step out of his comfort zone just to make her happy.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” she said softly, her heart full of gratitude.

“I try,” he said, a playful lilt to his voice. “So, what do you say? You and me, the jazz festival, your birthday?”

“Yes, absolutely yes!” she exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over. “Thank you so much, Damian. This is the best birthday surprise ever.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he said warmly. ��I’ll fly up the day before, and we can hang out and catch up. It’s been too long.”

“I can’t wait,” Y/N said, her heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him again. “This is going to be so much fun.”

Two days later, Y/N found herself anxiously waiting outside the entrance to the South Jersey Jazz Festival. She glanced around the bustling crowd, her heart pounding with anticipation. When she finally spotted Damian, her heart did a little flip. He stood tall, his dark hair tied back, wearing a casual black button-up shirt and jeans—a stark contrast to his usual edgy wrestling attire. He looked surprisingly relaxed, even though he was completely out of his element.

“Hey, birthday girl!” he called out, waving as he made his way over.

“Damian!” Y/N ran up to him, wrapping him in a tight hug. “I can’t believe you’re here. And I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Damian hugged her back, his strong arms enveloping her in warmth. “I’d do anything to see you smile like that,” he said softly, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Ready for some jazz?”

“More than ready!” Y/N beamed, her excitement palpable.

As they walked into the festival grounds, Y/N couldn’t help but steal glances at Damian. She knew how different this scene was for him, yet he seemed at ease, more focused on her than anything else. The festival was alive with the sounds of saxophones, trumpets, and smooth melodies drifting through the air. Vendors sold everything from gourmet food to handmade crafts, and the crowd was a mix of jazz enthusiasts, families, and curious onlookers.

They found their seats near the main stage, the perfect spot to enjoy the performances. Y/N noticed Damian glancing around, taking in the scene with interest.

“So, what do you think?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“It’s… different,” he said with a thoughtful nod. “But not bad. I can see why you love it. It’s got a vibe.”

Y/N grinned, nudging him playfully. “You’re not secretly a jazz fan now, are you?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t push your luck, Y/N. But I’m here for you, so I’m willing to give it a shot.”

The first set began, and the music was mesmerizing. Y/N closed her eyes, letting the soulful notes wash over her. She felt Damian’s arm drape over the back of her chair, a casual, protective gesture that made her heart flutter. When she opened her eyes and turned to him, she found him watching her with a soft smile.

“What?” she asked, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze.

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging. “Just… I’m glad you’re happy. That’s all.”

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest. “I am happy. And it’s all thanks to you.”

They continued to enjoy the performances, laughing and talking between sets. Damian surprised her by knowing a few of the artists, which led to Y/N playfully accusing him of being a closet jazz fan. He took it all in stride, clearly enjoying the banter.

As the night wore on, the music became more lively, and the crowd began to sway and dance to the rhythm. Y/N watched couples twirling and moving to the beat, a wistful smile on her face.

“You want to dance?” Damian’s voice broke through her thoughts.

She looked at him, a bit startled. “Dance? I… I don’t know, Damian. I’m not exactly good at it.”

“Neither am I,” he admitted, standing up and holding out his hand. “But it’s your birthday, and I want to make it special. Come on.”

Y/N hesitated for only a moment before taking his hand. He led her to an open space where others were dancing, and they awkwardly began to move together. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Damian, a towering figure who could command an arena full of wrestling fans, now trying to sway gently to jazz music.

“You’re really out of your element, aren’t you?” she teased, her eyes sparkling.

“Completely,” he said, smiling down at her. “But I’d rather be here, looking like an idiot with you, than anywhere else.”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d needed this—this simple, joyful moment. As they swayed to the music, she rested her head on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. For the first time in a long time, she felt at peace.

The song ended, and they reluctantly pulled apart. Damian’s hand lingered on her waist, and for a moment, Y/N thought he might say something. But he simply smiled, his eyes warm and steady.

“You want to grab a drink?” he asked.

“Sure,” she replied, her voice soft.

They made their way to one of the nearby vendors, grabbing a couple of drinks and finding a quieter spot to sit. The night air was cool, and the stars twinkled above them. They sat close, their shoulders touching, comfortable in the silence.

“Thank you for today, Damian,” Y/N said quietly, staring at her drink. “I know it wasn’t your scene, but it means a lot that you came all the way here. You’ve been such a good friend.”

Damian looked at her, his expression unreadable. “Y/N, I didn’t just come because it was your birthday. I came because… I care about you. A lot. And I want to see you happy, more than anything.”

Y/N’s heart raced. She looked up at him, searching his eyes. There was something there—something deeper than friendship. But before she could speak, Damian leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling a rush of warmth spread through her. “Thank you, Damian. For everything.”

They sat there for a while longer, talking and laughing, enjoying the night. And as they listened to the distant sounds of jazz music, Y/N realized that this was one of the best birthdays she’d ever had. Not because of the festival or the music, but because of the person sitting beside her.

With Damian by her side, everything felt just a little bit brighter.

[awkward-imaginations]

| A Spike of Uncertainty |

tetsuro kuroo x f!reader

The first time Kuroo saw you was when he noticed you sitting with Kenma, happily playing video games together. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t surprised when Kenma mentioned he had made a friend on the first day of the new school year. He didn’t share much about you, but Kuroo knew you had just transferred to Nekoma High and somehow you had piqued his interest.

warnings/notes: highschool romance, fluff, slight angst, I do NOT write fanfictions or storys normally, this is a first, so I am generally sorry for everything. CRINGE. def will be cringe in some parts. I'm a big sucker for Kuroo, him and Kenma may be ooc but I don't care this is my silly story and I just need to get it out of my head so I can finally write my Master's Thesis in peace. Also, english is not my first language. This has been "proofread" by my friends (who are also non-native speakers, enjoy).

word count: 1961

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“No way!” Kenma snatched Kuroo's DS from you the second you took it out of your bag. You wanted to protest, but before you could say anything, the Animal Crossing tune started playing, “I've been dying to see Kuro’s Village since we left elementary school.”

“Kenma, give it back,” you reached out to grab the DS, but Kenma effortlessly dodged, his eyes already glued to the screen. The familiar chimes of Animal Crossing filled the space between you two, and Kenma’s expression softened into one of pure focus. “I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he murmured, barely noticing your frustration. “Kuroo’s always bragged about his village, and I finally get to see it.” His fingers moved deftly across the buttons. But before Kenma could navigate from the menu into the game, you knew how he would react. He took a deep breath and sighed. You mentally prepared yourself for the look of disappointment on his face.

“You started a new game?” His voice was emotionless, even more so than usual. Normally, he would be glaring angrily at you right now, but he continued to stare blankly at the top screen.

“Kuroo said it was okay.” You tried to placate Kenma, but each of your excuses was just silently dismissed. Even your remarks about how unspectacular Kuroo's village was and how he hadn't missed anything couldn't appease him. Kenma's day, maybe this whole week, was ruined.

Before you could dwell on Kenma’s disappointment any longer, the classroom door slid open, and Kuroo's voice cut through the tense atmosphere. “Hey, you two ready?” He strolled in, his usual confident grin plastered on his face. Kenma barely looked up from the DS, still brooding over the lost village.

Kuroo noticed the device in Kenma’s hands and chuckled. “Let me guess, you’re mad because Y/N-Chan wiped out my Animal Crossing legacy?” Kenma gave a slight nod, but Kuroo just shrugged it off. “No worries, Kenma. You’ve got bigger things to focus on now, like making sure we crush it at practice today.”

Kuroo turned his attention to you, his grin softening. “Glad you’re coming to watch us. We could use a good luck charm on the sidelines after the training break.” There was a slight blush creeping up his neck, and you felt your own cheeks warm in response.

“I’m just here to make sure you don’t slack off, Kuroo,” you teased back, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.

“Is that so?” Kuroo leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone. “I’ll have to make sure I show off a bit, after all. Don’t want to disappoint our special guest.”

Kenma finally tore his gaze from the DS, rolling his eyes at the exchange. “Can we just go already?”

“Right, right,” Kuroo said, straightening up but sending you one last playful wink. “Let’s get going.” Together, you left the classroom and made your way to practice.

After the two boys had changed, you entered the gym with them. Some of the boys on the court turned around curiously as you walked in. Kuroo raised a hand in greeting but kept his pace brisk, leading you straight to the others. “Hey guys,” he called out, a slight edge in his voice, “this is Y/N, Kenma's new classmate. She’s watching today.”

All eyes were on you now, and you could feel a slight wave of nervousness creeping in. Before you could fully process it, a small boy with a friendly smile broke away from the group and approached you. “Hey, nice to meet you! I’m Yaku,” he said, extending his hand warmly. “Don’t worry, we don’t bite.”

You smiled shyly, about to reply, but Kuroo quickly stepped forward, a subtle frown crossing his face as he swiftly pulled you away from Yaku. “Come on, Y/N-Chan, I’ll introduce you to the rest,” he said, his tone a bit more forceful than before. As he led you around, you could sense a slight tension in his posture.

The rest of the introductions went smoothly, and everyone greeted you with smiles, clearly welcoming you warmly despite not actually being part of the team. However, you couldn’t help but notice the way Kuroo’s gaze flickered back to Yaku more than once, his irritation barely hidden.

“You can sit over there,” Kuroo pointed to the bleachers, his voice softening again as he directed you. “That’s the best place to see everything.” And with everything he mainly meant himself.

“And if you have any questions, just let me know!” Yaku called out with a grin as he started to warm up with the others.

Kuroo shot a quick glance in Yaku’s direction, a slight crease forming between his brows before he turned back to you. “Just relax and enjoy the show,” he said, though his smile seemed a bit tighter than before.

Despite the slight tension, you immediately felt more comfortable. The guys were all nice and open, and it was clear they were a strong team that supported each other.

“Y/N, want to practice a few passes with me?” Yaku ran up to you after a few minutes with a ball in his hand, “we're an odd number of players and I thought just watching would get boring.” On any other team you would agree with Yaku, but here you had a good opportunity to watch Kuroo for a longer time without it being weird. Nevertheless, you accepted the offer with a smile. It felt good to be actively involved in the group.

The passes that Yaku tossed to you were pretty easy but you didn’t complain, he probably didn't want to overwhelm you. Besides, you were still able to look over at Kuroo a few times, who was practicing with Kenma and seemed to be talking to him on the side. “You're pretty good,” Yaku praised you after a few rallies. “Thanks, my friends at my old school actually played volleyball too. They always persuaded me to train, a bit like Kuroo and you now, although they hit much rougher balls than you do.”

Every now and then, Kuroo would give you a look, as if to make sure you were having fun. And every time you returned his gaze, you felt a slight tingle. Contrary to your expectations Kuroo was actually looking at you and Yaku because he wanted to make sure you weren't having too much fun with the Libero. “Man, I wish I'd gotten the idea of practicing with Y/N-chan.” He clasped his hands behind his head and Kenma's pass flew right over him.

“I didn't think I'd ever have to tell you this but Kuro... Focus.” Annoyed, Kenma went to fetch the ball only to hit it over his inattentive captain's head again immediately afterwards.

“I don't get it, she's not even his type.” You were in fact not Yakus type but he saw the opportunity to unsettle Kuroo and took it.

“Then you don't have to worry about it.” Kenma sighed, retrieved the ball and started to serve, but stopped in motion. He mustered a glance at Kuroo, who was still staring over at you and Yaku, clearly distracted. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his captain so unsure during practice, especially over something—or rather, someone—like this. Usually, Kuroo was the one pulling the team together, his sharp eyes always on the game, on strategy. But now? Now, he was missing passes that even first-years wouldn’t let slip by.

Kenma sighed internally. “I told you you'd be annoying about it,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Kuroo to hear.

Kuroo snapped his attention back to Kenma, blinking as if coming out of a daze. “What do you mean? I’m not being annoying.”

“You're not? You’re letting balls fly right past you,” Kenma pointed out dryly. “And you keep staring at Y/N like she’s going to disappear if you don’t.”

Kuroo rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin forming on his face. “I’m just... making sure she’s comfortable, you know? It's her first time here with us. Gotta be a good captain.”

Kenma rolled his eyes, his usual indifferent tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. “Yeah, sure. That's what this is about.”

Kuroo dropped his hand, letting out a small huff. “I just didn’t expect to see her getting along with Yaku so easily, okay? It’s... different.”

“You’re overthinking it,” Kenma said, tossing the ball lightly at Kuroo. “She’s here, she’s having fun. And she’s not going anywhere, unless you keep acting weird and scare her off.”

Kuroo caught the ball, looking at it for a second before letting out a small laugh. “You’re right, I’m being ridiculous.”

Kenma gave a rare, almost imperceptible smile. “Yeah, you are. Now, I never thought I would say this, but can we please get back to practice?”

Kuroo nodded, the tension easing out of his shoulders. He tossed the ball back to Kenma, a more focused look settling on his face. “Alright, let’s do this. No more distractions.”

Kenma gave him a final, pointed look before serving the ball. “Good. And maybe try not to look like a lost puppy for the rest of the day.”

Kuroo chuckled, positioning himself for the next pass. “I’ll try my best.”

With that, the easy rhythm of their movements returned as Kuroo finally managed to push his thoughts aside. He couldn’t help but glance over at you one last time, just to see you smile as you hit another one of Yaku’s passes. But this time, when he looked back at Kenma, he was met with a raised eyebrow that clearly said, Focus.

In the two weeks since that first practice, you’d found yourself at the gym nearly every day. What started as an excuse to hang out with Kenma and Kuroo had quickly become routine—afternoons spent watching practice, evenings split between studying with Kuroo or gaming with Kenma. It felt natural, like you’d always been part of their rhythm.

One evening, after the team had left, you and Kenma sat outside on a bench, waiting for Kuroo to finish his meeting with the coaches. Kenma, having switched from his PSP to an old DS—thanks to you snagging Kuroo’s—was quietly immersed in another game. The only sounds were the occasional soft beeps from the device or the quiet laugh you’d share when one of you messed up. It was a peaceful kind of waiting, the murmur of voices from the gym a distant background to your silence.

Kenma didn’t say much, as usual, but every now and then he’d glance at you out of the corner of his eye, as if he knew something was on your mind.

When Kuroo finally emerged, he looked directly at Kenma, who hadn’t even noticed his best friend approaching. “We’re going on a trip next week. Coach Nekomata has organized a training match with a team from a high school in Miyagi. Karasuno, I think.”

You nearly choked on your iced tea when Kuroo mentioned the name, startled out of your thoughts. Fortunately, he didn’t notice, too focused on Kenma as he rambled about old rivals, crows, cats, and a ‘dumpster battle.’ You weren’t sure if you’d heard correctly or if the choking had thrown off your hearing, but it all sounded a bit dramatic.

Kenma’s gaze slowly shifted to you, his eyebrows narrowing slightly in thought. “Miyagi? Isn’t that your former prefecture, Y/N?”

As Kenma said your name, Kuroo finally turned to look at you too. Your throat still tickled from the sugary drink, so you just nodded, pressing your lips together.

“Is it?” Kuroo teased with a grin. “Wouldn’t it be funny if you went to Karasuno?”

You managed a nervous smile, “Yeah, wouldn’t that be funny?”

[anhonest-puck]

more anderperry because i miss them (under the cut, 630 words) (also in an au where lettermans are a thing and not achievement pins or whatever 😭)

about a week or so after neil died, his mom had come up to welton to help todd clean out his stuff. over the few hours she was there, the two had bonded quite well. todd sharing his story with her (this being a big feat for him, he’d never been good at telling people about his childhood). around the end, they had finally come to his things that he’d used or worn the most often. some things in the pile were his favorite shoes, a childhood plushie that he insisted that he couldn’t sleep without, and his wallet. also in the pile of things that laid on neil’s old bed was his tattered, worn (but well loved) letterman. todd loved neil’s letterman, nagging neil to get to wear it every chance he got. 

“neil i’m cold, can i borrow it one more time?” of course, neil would always cave and say yes, but todd savored every moment with his jacket on. to him, it was a promise. a promise of “i’ll be with you no matter what. even when i’m not there physically, i’m there; supporting you every step of the path you take.” it was like a long hug from neil. he enjoyed every minute with it on, basking in its warmth and comfort. it smelled like home. because to him, neil was home.

“so what would you like to do with it?” mrs perry muttered. she held it up. there in his right pocket, where he’d always put his hand, was a small slip of paper. she took it out gently and read the front of the slip out loud: “to: toddy” oh god. 

“i think this is for you then?” she sighed, handing the note and the jacket over to a rather speechless todd. he timidly opened the note. the writing was scribbled, but somehow the scribbled letters felt like home. home, home, home.

“toddy,

i know that this whole situation seems like absolute shit. i’m sorry. i’d understand it if you’d never forgive me; however, i know how much you loved my jacket (i noticed, you weren’t slick). so as my final parting gift, i wanted to give this to you. i hope this letter doesn’t go unnoticed, and you toss my jacket under the bed, but if you read this: know that i love you. nothing will ever change that. i’ll miss you. stay safe for me, alright toddy bear?

from, neil. 

dated: december 4th, 1959.”

from that moment todd knew that he had planned his death ahead of time. it wasn’t a ‘final hurrah’ like he had previously thought. but god, why didn’t he tell todd? maybe he had thought that it was too much of a burden. was he angry? no, anything but angry. he was upset. he left todd. alone.

 it was absurd of him to even think about tossing something so valuable and meaningful into a place where it would simply collect dust and be forgotten about, which wasn’t what neil deserved. his memory deserved to be hung up and shown to the whole world, the patches of sports he’d played and clubs he was a part of displayed in all their ragged but beautiful glory. 

todd didn’t know how long he’d sat there, staring at the note, but by the time mrs perry snapped at him to bring him back down to earth, he’d noticed that there were several tear stains on the page. he had read it and reread it over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. he finally let out a small laugh.

“toddy bear… really neil?” he giggled through tears.

and just like he used to, neil had made todd smile for the last time.

[soulthesimmer]

Me thinking about putting posts together for the queue…

[incorrect-fnaf-quotes]

Another thing about the Y/N and Springtrap idea—or, Rabbit Restoration Project/R.R.P—Thanks to @ravenmccookies for helping me figure out a title.

Immediately after getting a bit far into the whole idea... I started thinking about how about this whole thing would actually manage to end. And, I thought of three versions.

So, if anyone wants to read any of that, here they all are:

1: The best possible way to end this whole thing in general. After a ton of shenanigans, bonding, etc—Springtrap simply chooses to remain with Y/N, who doesn’t mind that at all. Good ending.

-

2: Despite everything that’s happened since Y/N and him first met, Springtrap chooses to leave. They don’t really know where he plans on going, or what he plans on doing.

Despite leaving, on occasion, Y/N still sees him around—and the rabbit chooses to have very quick visits. ...But those eventually stop. (Uh-oh, a certain fire happened).

-

3: Like the first, Springtrap makes the decision to remain with Y/N after everything—however, he also makes the decision to head off to a pizzeria.

Confused, Y/N follows after him—and that’s when the Pizza Sim fire occurs. Springtrap fully dies in said fire... but, not before saving Y/N from it, letting them live.

:)

[gghostwriter]

One Single Thread of Gold

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times Penelope tries to solve a Spencer Reid riddle and the one time she (and the team) meet the reason behind all the changes Trope: Fluff! Just fluff and team banter! w.c: 4.0k a/n: For some reason, my earlier post on this disappeared dunno why. But this is a very self indulgent fic as reader’s background is basically based on the industry I work in. I had a lot of fun writing the team banter and I hope you enjoy it too! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗

The first clue presented itself on a dull Wednesday night as the team, minus Hotch and Rossi, were leaving the bullpen after a full day of pushing papers. Penelope in all of her sunshine and colorful glory was buzzing about these accessories that she once spotted on a storefront window.

“I saw a pair of earrings and a matching necklace that would look so good with that top you bought the other day, JJ. You know, the blue one with those soft sleeves—they would look great with it. It’s tres boho chic.”

JJ smiled, opening her mouth to reply, but Spencer beat her to it.

“Did you know that boho chic was actually a response to political and social movements?”

“Wait, what?” Emily interjected.

He took her disbelief as a sign to continue on. “Yeah, yeah. There’s an article written about it in Vogue—softness and femininity historically appears in moments of political stress and war. Just like in the 70s with the hippie and anti-war movement that defined their style as a generation.”

They all piled into the elevator and turned to face the boy genius like he grew another head. For all they knew, this could be a clone and a very bad one at that. The Spencer Reid that they knew had absolutely no interest in the realms of fashion.

Penelope was the first to break the silence. “Vogue?”

“Kid, what gives? Just the other time, you didn’t know how many shoes a woman owns and now you’re some kind of expert?” Derek asked with both eyebrows raised.

“Did not knowing activate some kind of button that made you want to read about it?” Emily added on, feeling like she was in some kind of TV prank show.

“What?” Spencer licked his lips, nervous with all the attention on him. He felt like he was about to slip something up that he had been keeping to himself for a while now. A hidden precious gem that was you. “I—I like to read.” A believable excuse except his voice went up an octave, giving him away.

The three women shared a look.

“But you read academic textbooks and classic literature,” JJ stated.

Penelope added on. “Not fashion magazines.”

He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I don’t discriminate when it comes to reading. If it’s interesting—” he shifted his weight one side to another, thinking that the ride down on the elevator seemed to be taking slower than usual. “—I’ll read it.”

Penelope narrowed her eyes. She was no profiler but she could smell a lie from a mile away way. That wasn’t the whole truth. Dr. Spencer Reid was hiding something.

“Okay, see you tomorrow!” he squeaked out as he ran out of the elevator once it hit the lobby.

She turned to the three profilers, stunned with the boy genius’ erratic behavior. “Huh, did anybody else get the feeling that Spencer was hiding something?”

“Maybe, but the kid does read a lot. Maybe he just ran out of books.” Morgan shrugged.

The other two profilers tilted their heads and slowly nodded in agreement. It wasn’t far off on something Spencer would do. He did once pick up a pamphlet in the airport to read as mentioned before to her by Derek, granted it was for a case but still, Penelope couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else.

So when she arrived home that very same night, she propped up her laptop and got to digging. Boy Genius was hiding something big and Little Miss Oracle of Quantico can find anything with her tech skills. She’ll get to the bottom of this mystery, once and for all.

———

Spencer was glad to be coming home to your presence. Having spied the lights still on from the outside of the apartment, he took the steps two at a time, excited to see his 2nd favorite person after his mother—you.

“Spence?” You called out, having heard the mahogany front door open. “Is that you, baby?”

“Hey, love. I missed you,” he deposited his satchel to the nearby sofa and ran to give you a hug.

You burrowed yourself into his arms. All the muscles in your body relaxing as you caught a whiff of his cedar wood perfume—the same scent you’ve gifted to him during the early stages of dating. “I missed you too. How was your day?”

“Better now with you,” his words coming out muffled as he refused to detach himself from the embrace. “Actually, I almost slipped up today.”

You extricated from his arms to give him an inquisitive look. The slight scrunch on your nose and raised brows made his heart flutter. How expressive, free, and trusting you were. It reminded him of your first encounter. How you teasingly asked him if he was a serial killer when he offered you a ride home in the pouring rain and how you easily accepted regardless.

“Yeah? Did any of them catch on?” you probed as you pulled him by his belt loops to the direction of the bedroom.

He laughed, finding your aggression cute. “No. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Maybe we should schedule dinner with them sometime,” you coyly suggested as you slowly started to unravel his tie. “I mean, we’ve been together for over a year now and I have moved into your apartment, under the guise of watering your plants while you’re away. Which is a lie, by the way—”

“I have plants!” he protested. His hands divesting you out of his sweater, bringing to view his favorite silk set in deep purple that accentuated your skin and the blush on your cheeks.

“—that I brought over, Spence,” you quipped back. “But don’t worry, I won’t spill how the intelligent FBI agent fooled naive me into moving in with him.”

There was a glint in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine. “Love, I wouldn’t exactly call you naive—” his voice going an octave lower. “—not when you’re looking at me with those tempting eyes of yours.”

Giggling, you leaned in for a kiss, one that he quickly took over. His calloused dominant hand wrapped around the back of your neck, effectively caging you in while his other cradled your cheek—a stark contrast to the other. Kissing Spencer had always felt like a religious experience that you never want to part from.

Reluctantly pulling away, you caught glimpse of his need for you. His hazel eyes now dark as ink, nostrils slightly flared, teeth sinking into his lower lip, and his dominant hand dug into the fleshy nape of your neck. It made you feel desirable, like the goddess that he would call you when he’s on his knees tasting nectar from the source.

The discussion of inviting the team out for dinner was long forgotten. No other words were spoken as you pushed him on the bed—only the cries of his and your name and moans of ‘yes’ echoed well into the night.

***

The second clue was uncovered when Spencer walked into the cold windy bullpen with new black cardigan adorning his lithe body. It was non-descriptive to the untrained eye but for fashion enthusiast Penelope Garcia, she knew what those four white lines on the sleeve meant—luxury label and priced well above their pay grade.

She narrowed her eyes. The Spencer she knew wouldn’t dare spend his salary on anything besides limited first edition books. Something was truly up and she planned to get to the bottom of it as her initial online search turned up nothing.

“Reid, that’s a really nice sweater,” she complimented, throwing in her bait.

He smiled. The thought of who gave it to him warmed his heart. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks Garcia.”

Her sparkly pink kitten heels clacking on the floor as she came closer. “Can I see it?” she innocently asked.

The request threw Spencer off the loop but thought nothing of it as he shrugged and handed it to her—still warm from body temperature.

Her squeals caught the attention of the other profilers filling into the office.

“What is it, baby girl?” Morgan deposited his bag on the table and stationed himself beside her. “It’s Reid’s new sweater. Are you seeing something I’m not seeing?”

Garcia rolled her eyes. This was why females are considered more observant that their sex counterpart. Her chocolate thunder was a profiler but how could he not notice what she was deducing?

“Huh,” Emily surmised. “Based on the fibers, it’s definitely not polyester. Possibly a 100% wool, what do you think, JJ?”

“It says here on the tag—100% virgin wool,” she read out loud. “That makes it very expensive, right Garcia?”

The colorful tech analyst smiled. Her girls could never let her down. “Right you are, girlfriends! But it’s not only that, this—” pointing at the four stripes on the sleeve. “—this is a signature Thom Browne detail. Their prices go up to at least 600 dollars—” they all turned to Reid who seemed clearly agitated. “—now why does our boy wonder have a piece that could buy at most five cute heels?”

With his vast intellect, he couldn’t think of a way to weasel out of this impromptu interrogation. He couldn’t very well say that it was a gift now could he? If he did, that would lead to another hard hitting question ‘from who?’ He raked his hand through his curly hair, taking the same path as yours did just earlier as you gave him a kiss goodbye.

When you gifted him the cardigan from your last New York business trip, he really thought nothing of its material equivalence, besides feeling grateful and loved. It was proof that you paid attention to even the littlest details about him.

“Hey Spence, I got you something,” you looked up at him with sparkling eyes. The first thing you had done when you got home was run into his arms. A simple act that healed his aching heart from missing it’s other half.

You reached into your luggage, enthusiastically pulling out the black clothing wrapped in tissue paper like some magician pulling out a rabbit from a hat. “Here you go!”

“A new sweater!” He exclaimed.

You rocked on your heels, looking bashful as you explained the reasoning behind it. “I noticed you fidgeting when you wore the cardigan JJ gifted you last Christmas, the polyester fibers used on it must have been really itchy so I got you a new one—” your eyes widened at how your explanation could be taken the wrong way. “—not that her gift wasn’t great! No, it was very cute! It’s just—I want you to be comfortable and protected during your cases in cold states. Polyester is a good insulator of heat but wool is still the best.”

He loved how unabashed you rambled about your interests. That was one of the first things he piqued his notice. How you liked to share your knowledge about the fashion industry that you work for but never coming across as stuck up or snobby, you just genuinely wanted to educate anyone who had a wrong perception of the billion dollar commerce. Admittedly, he was one of them but hearing you rave about it’s nitty-gritty details and socio-economic movements changed his mind. It also helped that a beautiful and intelligent woman, such as yourself, was educating him.

He pulled you in for a kiss, stopping all the worries that ran through your head. “I love it. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing at all, baby. I like taking care of you. Just like how you take care of me,” you reasoned. “Plus I got it on sale courtesy of the magazine connections.”

A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie. It was Penelope with an eyebrow raised at the subtle smile that graced his face while he replayed the moment in his head.

“Okay,” Morgan drawled. “What’s got you smiling, Pretty boy?”

“Nothing,” he squeaked out, turning to see Hotch make his way across the office. Spencer hurriedly collected his things and started to move even before their unit chief could call their attention.

“We have a case,” Hotch announced.

The remaining BAU members all looked at each other, silently communicating about Reid’s irregular demeanor, before piling into the conference room for another grueling scene of murder.

“He’s been acting weird,” Garcia rushed out. “Definitely hiding something. What do you think, Em?”

Emily nodded. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“A girl?” JJ guessed.

“Yes, must be a special one for him to keep secret for so long,” Garcia surmised. “Do you think he’ll hate it if I go further digging around to find out who she is?”

“Further?” Emily clarified.

JJ laughed. “Probably, let’s wait for him to volunteer the information. Okay, Garcia?”

She sighed, shoulders drooping, before nodding in agreement.

***

The third clue was quite literally handed to Penelope Garcia on the jet after a case when she accompanied the team.

“Cold Alaska is so not good for my skin,” she grumbled as she rummaged her bottomless bag for her favorite hand cream. “I love going with you all on trips rather than being stuck in my own tech cave but the weather wasn’t it.”

Morgan chuckled. “Aw c’mon baby girl, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy our time together?”

“You, my sculpted hunk, and the fireplace were the highlight,” Penelope turned to the other female profilers. “My beauties, do any of you have lotion? I think I lost mine.”

Before JJ or Emily could even utter a word, a tube made its way to her lap courtesy of her seat mate, Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Reid, since when do you carry lotion?” Emily inquired.

He shrugged. “Hand cream has it’s benefits besides from moisturizing the skin, it also provides an additional layer of protection. Depending on it’s properties, it can also repair and undo damage.”

The females all shared a look. This was another unexplainable behavior from their resident genius.

“We know that,” JJ stated. “We just thought you didn’t.”

His brows furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, besides from the fact that you’ve never shown interest about skincare before, isn’t it a stereotype for men not to know? Unless—” Emily slyly smiled and nodded at Garcia to continue.

“Unless you have a girlfriend that we don’t know about,” Garcia bounced on her seat.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Spencer’s eyes widened in alarm. He didn’t realize he was walking into a trap before it was too late. “What makes you say that?”

They laughed.

JJ started. “Besides from you suddenly being knowledgeable in fashion—“

“—or having a pricey sweater you’d never buy for yourself—” Emily added on.

“Or, or—“ Garcia reached out to touch his hand. Which made Spencer react with a high pitched call of her name. “—having a shea butter lotion with rough hands!” She waved the tube up in the air. “Plus, this is half empty. So either it’s not working which I doubt since this is a good brand or you keep this in your bag for a special someone to use!”

Derek chuckled. “Baby girl, you could be a profiler at this point.”

“Oh tell me something I don’t know,” she quipped back. “So Reid, want to tell us the truth?”

He sighed, finding no escape. “Yes, yes I have a girlfriend.”

The girls all shrieked with laughter and their own corresponding questions of who is she? How did you meet? How long has this been going on? What does she do for a living? Is she pretty? Oh I bet she is!

“Looks like that cat is out of the bag,” Rossi nonchalantly stated.

Four sets of eyes turned to look at one of the BAU founders. “Rossi, you knew about this and didn’t tell me?” Garcia gasped, a hand to her chest at the thought of betrayal.

He laughed. “I caught them on a dinner date once and our boy wonder over here—“ nodded in Reid’s direction. “—begged me not to out him yet, said he wanted to be the one to tell the team the news but that was like what, six months ago?”

“Six months ago?” Emily repeated.

“Wait, wait. Hotch, don’t tell me you also knew?” Morgan asked.

The unit chief smiled. “She was added to Reid’s emergency contact last February.”

“February? That’s almost a year ago!” JJ sputtered out.

The tech analyst turned to glare at the youngest member of the BAU. “Reid, you better start spilling all the details or so help me, I will stalk all your digital footprint when we land until I find out who she is, where she lives, and what her deepest darkest secret is.”

“What about hearing it all from her, instead?” He rubbed the back of his neck. The secrecy had gone on for so long and there was no time like the present to introduce his chosen family to his chosen partner—hopefully until the end of time. “She wants to treat you all out for dinner tonight.”

All four nodded vigorously as they watched him pull out his phone and send a quick text to which you readily replied and agreed to.

“My man,” Derek sighed. “Can’t believe you got a girlfriend without me being your wingman.”

“Answer me at least this, is she pretty and does she make you happy?” Garcia asked. No matter how nosey she may be, she only wanted the best for Spencer and if the recent lightness and smiles were all caused by his mystery girlfriend, she already approved.

“The prettiest,” Spencer gushed out. “She’s my own personal sunshine.”

The three girls melted into their seats. Their youngest was all grown up waxing prose over his lover.

“She makes you sappy too,” Derek teased.

***

[EXTRA - When the mystery was uncovered]

Spencer had never felt any more nervous that this moment as he, with the rest of the team minus Hotch and Rossi, wait for your arrival. He sat with his back to the restaurant entrance and his cardigan laying on the empty seat beside him as a reservation mark. His eyes had been going back and forth to his idle phone and to the conversation the team was having.

Morgan noted his state of distress and chuckled. “You okay there, lover boy? She’s still coming right, your mystery girlfriend?”

“Yeah, yeah. She said she was on her way 9 minutes and 24 seconds ago and based on the route and traffic, she should have been here 45 seconds earlier. Just worried that something might have happened.”

Penelope leaned in, picking on her bubblegum pink choice of drink as she did. “You know, if you just told me her name I could have tracked every movement by now and you wouldn’t be sitting here worrying.”

“What—no Garcia, I don’t want her tracked plus she didn’t want you to know everything about her even before meeting her,” his voice going up an octave in your defense.

She shrugged. “I’m just saying. I mean we don’t know a single thing about her—”

“We do know she exists and you’ve been together for almost a year now,” Emily interjected.

“Actually, it’s been more than year—one year and 124 days to be exact.”

“Buttercup, all I’m saying is we don’t even know how she looks—” Garcia gasped, having spotted a passerby on the window and what she was wearing. “Oh my gosh, that maroon coat is to die for and that textured leather bag—I wonder if I could track her down and ask where she got it.”

“Oh she’s pretty,” JJ noted.

Derek smirked. “Baby girl, tell me if you plan to ask her ‘cause I wouldn’t mind asking for her number.”

The tech analyst’s eyes further widened as she noted the attractive woman going inside the restaurant.

“You weren’t kidding about that coat, Garcia, it looks really nice,” JJ appraised.

Emily squinted her eyes, taking note of the garment in question. “It looks high quality, probably vintage and—is she going near us?”

“Oh gods, she is! Act natural, act natural!” Penelope chanted as she repeatedly slapped Derek’s arm.

The stranger stopped behind Spencer. “Hey handsome,” your melodic voice was a siren that called to his every being. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Penelope’s jaw dropped as she took in Derek’s flustered reaction.

“Me?” He pointed at himself, getting picked up in such a public setting was new even for him—the ladies man of the BAU.

You laughed. “Well, you too but I was more of talking to this lover of mine—“ you bent down, kissing your boyfriend’s cheek. “Hey, Spence.”

A series of gasps were heard all around the table.

The youngest stood up and turned to give you a soft kiss on the lips. “Hey, Y/N. I was starting to get worried.”

“I missed the train, sorry I forgot to send an update,” you explained as he helped you into your seat.

Promptly seating back down, he angled his body to yours—all attention on you as if you were the only one in the room. And in a way you were, with how molten his doe eyes stared, alternating between yours and your painted lips that begged to be kissed.

He always felt breathless when you were near. It was as if he found his very own Aphrodite to worship here on earth. Spencer was no believer of fates or destiny but he would pray and light a candle if he needed to, just to keep you his. Your intelligent mind complimenting his, your outgoing personality that draws anyone in, and your face that could launch a thousand ships.

Those eyes that could read the deepest crevices of his fiber of being. Those cheeks that begged to be caressed by his calloused hands. Those soft lips that deserved to be kissed and devoured until you, in turn, were as breathless as he was. He suddenly wished you both were anywhere else but here—specifically in the confines of the apartment where he was free to express his love, devotion, and adoration until you scream his name and beg him to stop. His hand, having found it’s way to your thigh, squeezed the flesh three times—communicating his promise to have your hair laid around you like a halo as you lay under him, bare and writhing with need.

The blonde on the other end of the table cleared her throat, cutting through the tension.

“Okay, Spence,” she smiled. “Mind introducing us to your girlfriend?”

He brought your hand to his lips, leaving a series of sweet kisses on your knuckle. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is the rest of the team. Morgan—“ he gestured to each one. “Emily, JJ, and Garcia.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you!” You exclaimed. “So sorry we’re only meeting now. We wanted to stay in our little bubble for as long as we could plus this handsome FBI agent—” you nudged Spencer’s shoulder. “—wanted to keep me to himself. But where’s Aaron and Dave?”

Emily whispered under her breath. “Aaron? Dave?”

“They had prior commitments, love. They did send their regards and Rossi wants to invite you to the next gathering at his mansion,” Spencer explained.

“Love?” Penelope squeaked out. This was really starting to feel like Twilight zone for the team members.

You nodded. “I’ll definitely plot it on my calendar. Now, I heard you had some questions for me?”

“How’d you two meet?” JJ asked.

“When was the first date?” Emily inquired.

Penelope brought out a pen and paper. “What’s you social security number?”

Derek snorted at that. “Do you have any other siblings?”

Spencer’s eyebrows raised further and further up with each question while your shoulders shook with laughter.

“She has all the time in the world to get to know each of you,” Spencer laid out. “No need to make it sound like an interrogation.” He was wishing to keep you forever, if you’d let him.

You smiled as you caressed his cheek, having caught on to the veiled meaning behind his words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[obsesssedblerd]

i live for your girl dad! sukuna may we please have a little more? 😭💕

oh, you're in luck anon. just finished typing this one <3

--

Sukuna’s daughter had been wailing for the last half hour. Maybe even longer.

He tells Uraume to finish preparations, then walks back in the direction of your shared bedroom. He finds you there, pacing back and forth while trying to soothe your baby with light shushes and comforting humming. You look tired. Lately, you haven’t been getting much sleep. 

“She’s still crying, even after all this time,” he says from the doorway. “Is she sick?” 

“Oh, no,” you reply with a small, exhausted smile. “It’s just that… She knows you’re leaving.” 

That makes him pause and raise an eyebrow in question. “What?” 

You elaborate. “She cries when you leave for business, and she doesn’t sleep as easily until you return.” You look down at your daughter, who had begun reaching her little arms towards Sukuna the moment she felt his presence in the room. “Proof that she’s my daughter. It doesn’t help that she can feel that I am also sad.” 

Though his expression remains as stoic as ever, Sukuna’s heart pings at your soft confession. Before he knows it, he’s walking towards you. “Here.” He gently takes the small, wailing girl and holds her against his chest, her cries immediately softening. Her tiny hands grip his kimono, as if she were begging him to stay for a little while longer. You sit down on the bed, and when you yawn, Sukuna tells you that he’ll put the baby to sleep, then exits the room, taking the hallway that leads to the garden of his large estate. 

By the time he’s outside, his daughter’s no longer crying. She stares up at him, her big crimson eyes still pleading to him. Sukuna sighs, slowing his steps when he reaches the garden’s trail. “You surprise me, brat,” he tells her. “Before you were born, I was convinced that you, like most babies, would be frightened in my presence.” 

His daughter tilts her head in what he thinks is confusion, as if saying, ‘But you’re my father. Why would I be afraid of you?’ He scoffs, then wraps her in the baby blanket he brought with him. “You need to sleep, little one. It’s late. I am certain that you are tired.” 

Sukuna remains quiet as he continues walking through the moonlit garden, and it doesn’t take long for the baby’s eyes to shut. Once her breathing steadies and he knows that she’s asleep, he exhales once, thinking of your words earlier. “Proof that she’s my daughter. It doesn’t help that she can feel that I am also sad.” 

He didn’t know that you missed him that much whenever he was away on business. 

When Sukuna returns to the room, he carefully places his daughter in the bassinet next to your bed. Since the baby blanket still has his cursed energy on it, she’ll find comfort in it until he returns. Then he sees you, fast asleep in the bed. He covers you with the blanket, then gently strokes your cheek. I’ll be back soon, he thinks to you. Finally, he quietly closes the door, then makes his way back to Uraume. 

“Lord Sukuna,” Uraume greets him with a dip of their head. “Is the little princess alright? Does she need anything?” 

“She is fine, but we shall make this quick,” he says. “My wife and my brat prefer when I am home, so the faster I can return to them, the better.” 

[monzabee]

the smallest man who ever lived - cl16

masterlist || part 2 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.

Pairing: charles leclerc x wife!reader; carlos sainz x reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: angst, cheating, crying, manipulation(?), charles is an absolute asshole (but so is the reader) (but she’s kinda also badass?) (toxic relationship?), even more assholish carlos (gasp), blackmail, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation (literally just pushing someone off but still)

Request: “Hey girl can I request something angsty with Charles? Maybe Charles cheating on Y/N (we’re already famous and have been married to Charles for years) and the fighting, the finding out, his guilt, angst, etc.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you to the anon who requested this because i had the time of my life working on it, and it might be the first fic i wrote in one go for the last six months or so!! also thank you to the getting cheated on playlists i found on spotify and amy dunne for giving me the inspiration to make the reader as toxic as i could. special thanks to @norrisleclercf1 and @percervall who had to listen to me talk about this fic NONSTOP. this is definitely something very different to what i usually write, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

There are moments in life where you feel like a complete and utter idiot. Although it could be for no apparent reason at all, there is a perfectly explainable reason why you feel like that right now, in the middle of your trailer on the set, with your manager and publicist both looking at you like you could explode at any given moment. It took you a good amount of time to wrap your head around the news, the news that wrecked you into a million of pieces which left you as the only person who can put them back together.  

“Let me get this straight,” you start, still trying to wrap your head around the news, “they were photographed leaving the club, and there’s a–?” 

“Sex tape, yes.” Your manager mumbles, earning himself a side-eye from your publicist. “It was so kindly attached to the email.”  

“And it is anonymous?” You ask, earning curt nods from both. “Well,” you manage to get out, pressing your lips together not to let out a sob, or a laugh, both? “That is very ambitious of him.” 

Your publicist shares a concerned look with your manager, then turns to you, “I guess so? How would you want us to handle this? I can buy us some time until these are released to public, but I think getting a statement ready just in case is essential given the fact that both of you are public figues. We can say that you’ll attend marriage councelling–” 

Your loud laugter cuts her off in the middle of her sentence. “And just why would we do that?” 

“I–” She gives you another concerned look as she softens her voice, which is quite uncharacteristic for her, you realise. “How would you want us to approach it then?” 

“I don’t want you to approach it at all.” You voice cuts through the tension, your gaze fixed on her. “I’ll handle it.”  

“But Charles–” She tries to reason, but you cut her off again.  

“Decided to get his dick wet where it certainly didn’t belong, he’s a big boy – he’ll survive.” Fixing her with a final look, you turn to your manager instead. “I don’t want this going to Charles or his team’s ears, that’s what the email said, and we should honour it, no?”  

His expression turns into a smirk, matching the one playing on your lips as he nods in thougt, “Would you like us to do anything else? We can talk with the production if you need a couple of days to… well, recuperate. Greta would understand.” 

“No.” Your answer is final as you shake your head. “She thinks this is an Oscar worthy project, I’m not throwing it away because my husband decided to think with his dick and not his brain. Just call my lawyers and tell them to be on stand by.” 

“Should I also book you tickets to Monaco still?” He asks in a monotone tone. 

“Well of course,” you reply in a sweet voice, widening your eyes for dramatic effect, “it’s a family event.” 

Your publicist eyes the both of you, “Okay,” as she drags the word out, “are you sure you don’t want to take a couple of days off?” 

“Positive. I have an EGOT to win.” Raising the script you have in your hands in the air, you announce, “I have lines I need to go over, is that all?”  

And as they leave your trailer to give you some space to ‘go over your lines’, you let a few tears escape your eyes, promising yourself that you would make Charles feel a thousand worse what he made you feel in the moment. 

It is not surprising or a sudden revelation that Monte Carlo has good weather all year around. But as it happens with the last few weeks following you learning about your husband’s infidelity, all you feel is cold – and no amount of warm weather is enough to make your heart feel warmer again. As you stand at the terrace of Café de Paris, overlooking the cityscape of Monte Carlo, all you can think about is how you just want to get this part of you plan over with as fast as possible.  

“Chérie!” The voice you hear makes a lump perpetually situate itself in the middle of your throat, but you brace yourself for the worst as you turn on your heels to face the person you’re most scared of facing in this whole situation. “Look at you, you look incroyable! You had me scared when you told me you were catching the redeye, and that we just had to talk!” 

“Pascale,” you breathe out as the woman pulls you into her arms with the warmness of any mother would do, and for that brief moment, you feel better than you have in weeks. “It’s so nice to see you again,” giving her the warmest smile you can muster up in the circumstances as you pull back, fixing your gaze at the figure behind her as you nod your head in acknowledgement, “Arthur.” 

“Maman is right,” Arthur says as he opens his arms, “you do look good.”  

“Well, thank you.” You reply as you give him a quick hug, and motion the table as you pull back. “Shall we?” Call it common curtesy, or cowardice, the fact that you don’t directly get to the point. Either way, you talk about what you’ve missed in the couple of months in which you’ve been away filming. You’re not necessarily paying attention, though the endtail of Pascale’s sentence catch your attention. “Excuse me, can you repeat that?” 

“Well, I was just telling how sad I was that Charles doesn’t come home as often this season. Though I understand he’s coming out to see you on set, distance can be so hard even for–” 

“He’s not coming out to see me, Pascale.” You voice is softer, and appears more broken than you would want it to be, but your words convey the message enough. It takes you a couple of moments to organise your thoughts, and Arthur calling out your name, to get you back into the moment. “There’s something I need to talk with the both of you, something I’ve already talked with Lorenzo, but I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me.”  

“Okay?” Arthur mumbles, then gives you a supportive smile, “You can tell us anything. Though don’t tell me I’m about to be an uncle because I don’t think my ego can take it at the–” 

You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat as you direct your words to the woman sitting across from you. “I’m divorcing your son, and I thought you should hear it from me and not him.”  

It takes a few minutes for both Pascale and Arthur to say something, and it concerns you that you somehow managed to give your mother in law a brain aneurism, but eventually, she manages to get out, “What? How? Why? Are you okay?”  

“I’m… fine.” You reply, albeit it comes off calculated. “I found a couple of weeks ago that he was cheating on me, I’ve came back to give him the papers myself.”  

“He what?” Arthur exclaims, then realises the level of his voice, and lowers it down as he asks, “Are you sure this is not a misunderstanding? The guy has been in love with you for over a decade, he wouldn’t do this.” With a resigning sigh, you find what you’re looking for in your phone and hand it over to Arthur. Who then, upon seeing what you have pulled up, immediately hands it back to you and turns to his mother, “Trust me you don’t want to see it.” 

“I’ve came to tell you the news, and well, to apologise.” You turn to face Pascale again.  

“Apologise?” She repeats, “Why on earth would you apologise to me when my son cheated on you?” 

“You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since we’ve met, both of you.” You acknowledge Arthur with a look, and then focus your attention back on the woman, “Though I will make sure you don’t get caught in the crossfire in any way, I wanted to apologise for what I’m about to put your son through.”  

You honestly don’t know how you manage to act as if everything has been going fine in your life during race day. Given the fact that your husband doesn’t expect you to be at his race due to your rigorous filming schedule, and his family members being willing to hide your existence from him, you have no obstacles in your way to carry out the rest of your plan in motion. Which is exactly why you’re sat in the dark, waiting for your husband to walk through the doors of your apartment overlooking the city. With you seemingly being absent for the weekend, he has no reason to not believe that he is coming to an empty house.  

So, imagine his surprise when he enters his home; with his girlfriend in his arm, no less, and sees his wife sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and a drink in her hand. The look on his face is priceless, and despite all the pain and frustration you’re feeling, it manages to bring you some semblance of joy, knowing that it’s going to hurt him just as much as it hurt you.  

“Ma chérie,” Charles stammers, eye wide as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, “I – I didn’t know y–you were coming back this weekend.” 

“Well obviously,” you scoff, taking a generous sip from the drink in the glass tumbler in your hand, “otherwise you wouldn’t bring your little girlfriend into my house to fuck her.” You hear a gasp from the scaredy brunette wedging herself closer to your husband’s side, and for the first time you take a good look at her – young, much younger than you, tall, leggy; all the telltale signs that she is exactly your husband’s type. Tilting your head to the side, you rest the glass on the arm of the armchair you’re sitting in, “If you could leave now, I would greatly appreciate it.”  

You hear Charles whisper something in her ear, probably telling her to leave and that he’ll contact her tomorrow, and watch as she gives him a scowl, screeching, “You’re just going to let her throw me out?” 

“Well, considering the fact that this is my house, yes.” You give her a look of pity, watching her face light up with anger.  

“Listen to me, you bitch–” She starts, but your husband quickly cuts her off.  

“Mon cœur!” He exclaims, “S'il te plaît!” 

“Yes, listen to him, like a good little girl,” you egg her on, a smirk widening on your lips as you start swinging the leg resting on your lower one, choosing to focus on your nails instead of your husband trying to soothe his lover. 

You hear her scoff, take a few steps as her heels click on the marble floor of the entrance, “I wouldn’t be so calm if I were you, I’m not someone you want to be on bad terms with, considering the fact that he’s going to leave you for me!” 

“Oh, honey,” you coo, focusing your attention back on her and seeing the look of concern in your husband’s face through the corner of your eye, “and when did he tell you that, like a year ago? Two? Three?” A realisation dawns on her face as the smug expression starts to fade. “Don’t worry, though, you can have him when I’m done with him.” Pushing yourself off the armchair, you down the rest of the drink in the glass before slamming it down onto the glass coffee table. “And not only do I not care if you think I'm a bitch, but I hugely prefer it. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call security and get your ass thrown out.”  

You watch as she looks at Charles with indignation, lets out another screeching sound and slams the door behind her as she stomps out of your apartment. Only then you turn your gaze back to your husband, who has the guts to look at you with a worried look on his face. “How long have you known?” Is the first thing he asks you, taking a few steps closer.  

“A couple of weeks, a month, maybe?” You answer him, leaving your place to get to the small bar in the corner of your living room to get another refill of your drink. “There’s a video of the two, it somehow got into my hands, and it has very graphic details of the two of you having sex.” Popping a lemon into your cup, you make your way back to the armchair and sit down, “Are you stupid enough to cheat on me and make a fucking sex tape, Charles?” 

“I-I didn’t mean to–” He tries to plead, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.  

“You didn’t mean to what?” You ask him; your voice soothing, almost understanding, and it does the job of fooling him. “Cheat on me? Fuck another woman in my bed? Break the vows you’ve made?”  

“Ma chérie,” he whispers, “please.” 

“No.” Your voice is colder all of a sudden. “Tell me how long this has been going on for. Was I right? How many years?” 

“It started five years ago,” his voice is soft, somber and he tries to appear as genuine as he can in the situation, you suppose, “but I knew her, from before...” 

“Before what?” You’re seething now, the complete opposite of his calmness, “Did you fucking cheat me when we were dating, Charles?” 

“Ma chérie,” he gives you another pleading look, “please, I can change. I’ll go to therapy.”  

Now that, manages to get a bark of laughter from you. It’s ripped from the back of your throat, making you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the laughter to the point that there are tears in your eyes when you finally manage to calm yourself down. Putting the glass down on the coffee table once again, you wipe them off, mindful of your mascara, as you shift your attention back onto your husband. “Are fucking kidding me right now?” He gives you a concerned look, hands on his hips as he opens his mouth to answer you, but you quickly shut him down again. “You were bringing her into my house to fuck her, I caught you, I have your fucking sex tape – which is going to be streamlined for the world to see within twenty-four hours, do you honestly think I would go back to you?”  

“Wait, what?” He exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “What do you mean they are going to streamline it, why didn’t you go to the lawyers? 

“I did go to the lawyers,” you shrug, innocently, “my lawyers,” you point out. “Why would I cover up your mistakes after everything you’ve done?” 

“Because I’m your fucking husband!” He barks, his arms widening to his sides as he finally loses his mask and his composure.  

His little tantrum only makes you let out another laugh, “Now, you’re my husband? Not when you’re cheating on me when I’m away shooting, but when you need me to clean up after your mistakes?” 

“How did you even get the video?” He asks, eyes narrowing down, “Who- who– who?” 

“Who? Who? Hoo? What are you, a fucking owl?” You exclaim, this time raising your voice. “You’re honestly more concerned about where I got it and not about the fact that the entire world is about to see you fucking someone other than your wife?” 

“What are we doing to do?” He asks, “Fuck, I have a race tomorrow.” 

“We’re not going to do anything.” You shrug, leaning forward to grab the glass and take another sip, “Or scratch that, we’re actually going to do something.” You stand up from the armchair, walk towards the table and hand him the file. “Congratulations, we’re getting a divorce.” 

“That is not happening.” He scoffs, not even bothering to look at the papers.  

“I don’t think you’re in the position to bargain with me, Charles.” You seethe, “You’re going to sign the damn papers, and you’re also going to sign away your rights to the baby.”  

“What the–?” He looks at you in disbelief, “You’re pregnant?” 

“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” You bite out, “Like you wanted.” 

“You’ve been drinking the entire night.” He points to the glass, “Do you expect me to believe you’re pregnant?” 

Offering him a sweet smile you hand him the glass, tipping it towards him, “It’s soda water, would you like a sip?” 

“Don’t make me do this,” he pleads, “give me another chance.” 

“I would’ve, if you were honest with me from the start.” You resign, a sincere look in your eyes. “I’ll give you a choice: us, or her.”  

He rears back with the offer, looking at you in disbelief. “What?” 

“You either choose me and the baby or you choose to be with her, and in that case, I will never let you near my baby, Charles.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach protectively.  

For a second, his eyes linger around your stomach.   But you know his choice when he meets your eyes again.  

“What have we done to each other?” He whispers, and you can barely see the tears in his eyes.  

“We didn’t do anything, Charles. I gave up everything for you, but you just took me for granted.” Walking back to the dining table, you grab your coat and bag, and when you come face to face with him again, your voice is soft despite all the anger you still feel towards him. “You, Charles Leclerc, are truly the smallest man who ever lived.”  

The hotel lobby is calm and empty as you sit at the bar, and it’s surprising when you consider that fact that it is the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix, meaning that there must be hundreds and thousands of motorsports fans visiting. Not that you’re complaining about the silence, of course. After the night you’ve had, silence and calmness are all you could ask for.  

“I’ll get a whiskey, please, whatever top shelf stuff you’ve got.” A voice cuts through the moment you are having, and you instantly recognise the distinct accent of the stranger sitting next to you. “Thought you were in the States, finishing off filming.” This time, the comment is directed to you, and you roll your eyes as you push the empty glass towards the bartender on duty.  

With a sigh, you turn to the man on your right, “What do you want, Carlos?” Your voice conveys your lack of energy, and Carlos is not dumb enough not to notice the dark circles under your eyes beneath your makeup.  

“I came to check on you.” Is his answer. Simple, curt and to the point. You’d certainly appreciate it more if you had the patience for his antics.  

“Well, you did, have a good night.” Slamming down a hundred-Euro bill onto the counter, you make a move to get up from your place, but a gentle hand on your wrist stops you. “Let me go.”  

Though there is no venom to your voice, Carlos knows that it is not the time, nor the place, to test your patience. “I’m sorry,” he starts and when you take a good look at him, you can tell that he’s being sincere, “I really did want to check up on you, and considering the fact that you have a perfectly good penthouse but instead in a hotel, I think I was right to do so.”  

Crossing your arms across your chest as you get back onto the barstool with a huff, you glare at him lightheartedly, “I didn’t want to stay in the same house as him,” raising your eyebrows, you continue with a lower voice, “thanks to chilisade5594@gmail.com, but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” The way his cheeks redden under the dim lights of the lobby bar would make you chuckle under normal circumstances, but you push the thought aside, “Honestly, what were you thinking? You’re lucky it was me who realised it was you, if it was my agent or publicist, we’d have another scandal to deal with.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off with a swat of his hand, “I’m sorry I put you into that position.” 

“Don’t be,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t sent me the video. Just tell me why you did it.” 

“What?” He turns you with a confused look on his face.  

“Why, Carlos?” You ask, voice encouraging yet soft, “Why did you send it? Why now?” 

He keeps quiet for a while, not answering your questions but not taking his gaze off you either. Eventually, he exhales a deep sigh as he gives you a sheepish shrug, “I didn’t like the way he treated you. And I didn’t want to make you worry about it without concrete proof, so I guess everything just... worked out.”  

“Huh,” you let out a small hum in agreement, “I guess you’re right.”  

Expecting more than the words you chose to answer him with, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a big gulp of whiskey from his glass. “That’s it?” 

“Well, what more is it there to say?” You ask, sheepishly shrugging. “We’re getting a divorce; he’s going to move out and I’m gonna make sure the entire world knows just why.” 

Carlos flags down the bartender as he mumbles, “I feel like you need a stronger drink if we’re going to talk about your impending divorce, cariño.” 

Taking a deep breath and exhaling an even deeper sigh, you shake your head. “I can’t.” Thank God Carlos is one of the people who is the proud owner of a braincell around you, because he catches your insinuation quickly.  

With widened eyes, he quickly turns towards you, eyes softening as you offer him a sad smile. “Dios mío,” he murmurs, eyes running over you worriedly, “are you okay?” 

“Well... no.” You let out an unexpected laugh at his expression, patting him on the shoulder lightheartedly. “I’ll be fine, Carlos, I’m a big girl. I can handle this.” 

“I know you will,” he assures you, “but does Charles know?” 

Now that manages to bring a grimace to your face. “He signed his parental rights away along with the divorce papers.” The look he gives you after hearing your words has you worried that his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, but you try to calm him down as best as you can. “Carlos, it’s fine.” 

“It’s most certainly not!” He exclaims, his voice echoing in the almost empty hotel lobby. “Is he out of his mind?”  

You give him an awkward smile and another shrug of your shoulders. "I... feel like whatever I’m going to say is going to be wrong. So... yes?”

“Cariño,” he says, exasperated, “how are you so normal about this?” 

“Lots of women raise their kids as single mothers while working, Carlos.” Your expression quickly taking the form of a frown, “I can handle this, I don’t need Charles or anyone else to hold my hand and tell me I’m doing such a good job.” 

“I know you can do this alone, tonta,” he rolls his eyes as the endearment making you roll your eyes, “but you’re not going to be alone. Because I’m here.” There’s a certain finality to his words. And just as you’re about to object to his words, he quickly shuts you down. “I know you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”  

“What if I need waffles in the middle of the night?” You ask, your eyebrow raised in a skeptical way.  

“I’ll adjust my pancake recipe.” His reply his immediate, and he shrugs lightly as he adds, “Pancakes are better, anyway.”  

Rolling your eyes you continue, “What if I need someone to hold my hand in the delivery room? It can get quite gruesome, you know?” 

He provides you with another nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve never really been affected by it.”  

“Okay, this is ridiculous, Carlos!” You exclaim, pushing yourself off your seat as you turn your body to face him. “I don’t need you to bail me out, I don’t need your help!” 

“I know you don’t,” he nods.  

“I am capable of doing this on my own!” You shriek, and the fact that your face is starting to get progressively redder worries Carlos.  

“I know you are, but–” he tries to reason.  

“No buts! I’m going to be a good mother, okay?” You point an accusatory finger towards him. “I’m going to choose him!” 

The way your voice breaks at the end of your sentence has Carlos instinctively pull you into his arms, which is not that hard given the fact that you are almost the same height as him as you stand in front of the bar stool he’s sitting on, and he doesn’t say a word as you sob into his chest – letting out all the emotion you’ve bottled up over the past few weeks, no less. He doesn’t you offer you empty promises or tries to soothe you with cliché phrases. Instead, he stands still, holding you between his arms as you sob continuously into his chest. Giving the bar tender an awkward smile over your shoulder, he hands him his card to close out your tabs.  

He only starts talking again once you’ve pulled away and trying to wipe the remnants of your tears from under your eyes. “Do you feel better now?” He asks, handing you a napkin.  

“Yeah,” you mumble, sniffing as you play with the corners of the napkin. Then, you flip your eyes toward his, and fix him with a glare. “You are not becoming my kid’s stepdad.” 

“Of course not, cariño,” he assures you, “I’ll be the dad that stepped up instead.” 

You let out a teary chuckle as you slap him lightly on his chest. “I’m serious, Carlos.” 

“So am I.” He replies softly, and you can see the genuine look on his face. “You’re not alone anymore, I’m choosing you.” Tentatively, he presses his hand softly against your stomach as he maintains your gaze. “Both of you.” 

And though the last thing you want is a promise, this one seems like a real one. So, you let yourself believe that he might just keep it up. 

[pellucid-constellations]

Of Oblivious Minds

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Pining, yearning, idiots in love?? (an angsty moment as well)

a/n: What am I doing!! I don't know!! This is part one and there will be one or two more parts :) Thank you for reading ily ♡

Part 2

~~

You were having an epiphany—of that you were certain. 

Sitting in the main room of the townhouse, a glass of wine spinning in your hand, many things were beginning to make sense to you. It was ridiculous that you hadn’t come to this realization before. All of the hints were right in front of you. 

You leaned back in the armchair, a scrutinizing gaze pointed toward the corner of the room. You took a sip of your wine—a contemplative sip—and then ran through the facts in your head. Yes, it made perfect sense. 

You wanted to kick yourself for not noticing before. 

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking so hard.” Cassian’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. You blinked up at him as he took a seat on the arm of your chair. “Want to share why you’re staring a hole into the wall?” 

“I was just… noticing something,” you murmured over the rim of your glass, voice low. 

“And what’s that?” 

You paused, pursing your lips. It would sound silly if you were wrong. But Cassian looked at you expectantly, so you simply whispered, “I think Az is in love with Elain.” 

The sudden, rumbling laugh bouncing off the walls set your cheeks ablaze. The entire room halted their conversations to look at Cassian as he doubled over, holding his stomach with no signs of letting up. You stared up at him, mortified, and smacked his arm as his laughs lowered into senseless chuckles. 

“Cassian, quit it. It’s not that funny—stop it or I’ll hit you again.” 

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” he laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Sorry, that was just… that was a good one, y/n.” 

“What’d she say?” Rhys asked, perking up from the other side of the fireplace. 

“Nothing to warrant that reaction,” you grumbled, sinking lower into your seat. 

Fighting back the vibrations in his chest, Cassian took a deep breath. “Inside joke, Rhys. You wouldn’t get it.” 

Rhys huffed out an offended breath, quirking a brow at his antics. He looked to Mor and Feyre to garner some support, but they only giggled back at him. 

“Maybe we would.” 

Azriel’s gravelly tone only made you collapse further into the armchair. If you’d known there would be consequences to sharing your epiphany with Cassian, you would have kept your mouth shut. Cassian was usually wonderful at keeping secrets. 

“Oh, brother, you’d find it funny as well, surely,” Cassian shared, heaving up from the chair. “But, alas, I have to go. No inside jokes for the room.” 

“Well that’s not fair. You don’t get to cause a riot and then leave,” Mor whined, her cheeks rosy and her eyes glassy. Clearly, she had been having her own drinks throughout the night. 

“Lovely. Now you want to know? Where was that attitude while you were giggling with my mate?” Rhys accused. 

Feyre jumped in this time, pinching the high lord’s cheek and cooing, “Oh, you big Illyrian baby.” 

The focus was no longer on you and your apparently laughable realization. Cassian’s reaction did little to deter you from the thought, however, and you were still quite resolute in your observations. Looking over at the couple in question only solidified that. 

They were huddled close, Elain’s knees pressed against Azriel’s thigh as they spoke in low tones. Azriel would occasionally take a glance around the room, lingering on you as he went, but that was natural for the shadowsinger. His shadows were gone, where they went you had no idea, and his wings were held tightly behind his back. 

And he stared at her—intently—as she nodded her head and answered whatever it was he had asked. 

He had to be in love with her. 

You were usually quite good at reading these types of things. 

“I’m taking you home now,” Cassian spoke, holding out his hand. “We’ll walk.” 

“What if I don’t want to go home?” you asked, taking his hand and following him despite your words. 

“After all that nonsense, I think it’s clear you need a good night’s rest. Plus, you and I are in the ring bright and early tomorrow morning.” 

You groaned, knocking your head back at the reminder of your obligations. It always sounded like such a good idea over breakfast. Cassian had clearly learned that you would only say yes to early morning trainings when you were half-asleep. 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go, sweetheart.” 

You let him yank you to the door, your feet dragging behind you, when a warmth encased your shoulders. You recognized the material of your coat instantly and turned to see Azriel smoothing it down over your arms. 

“For your walk,” Azriel quietly explained. “You left it on the back of my chair.” 

“Oh!” you chirped, feeling the early licks of embarrassment barrage your chest. It’s not like he heard you talking about him, right? “Thanks, Az. I almost forgot.” 

He offered you one of his soft, rare smiles. “I know. I remembered.” 

He nodded over your head to Cassian after that, and you heard Cassian’s low, I got her, Az, only because you strained your ears. 

You ended up being extremely grateful for Azriel’s forethought to grab your jacket. It was freezing outside. You could have winnowed home instead, but Cassian hadn’t really given you the option and no one ever let you winnow after you’d had something to drink. 

You landed in Summer Court one time and suddenly everyone treated you like a hazard. 

Your shoes scuffed against dark cobblestone as you walked. It was really dark, now that you looked at it. Maybe it had rained? Or a merchant had dumped their excess water? 

Or maybe it was nighttime and you were a little drunk. 

It was then that you noticed the silence. When Cassian walked you home, especially when Cassian was tipsy and he walked you home, he never shut up. So this was unusual. You squinted as you looked up at him, but he gave nothing away, keeping his gaze forward and his steps in steady pace with your own. 

“Okay, out with it,” you accused, crossing your arms over your chest. “What was so funny earlier? And why are you walking me home all stoic?” 

“I’m always stoic. Adds to my charm.” 

“Liar.” 

Cassian smirked, shaking his head, and then schooled his expression into one that was a touch more serious. “You really think Az likes Elain?” 

You watched your breath puff out white. “Don’t you?” 

“No, I don’t.” 

You shot him a skeptical glance. “Well, then you’re wrong. I’m good at picking these things out. I knew Feyre was Rhys’s made before the rest of you figured it out, didn’t I?”

“It was pretty obvious, y/n,” Cassian scoffed. He took a fleeting glance down to the ground beneath your feet. “Honestly, I’d wager that you’re actually the worst at picking these things out.”  

You gaped at him, bringing your coat closer to your body in a ploy to protect your damaged pride. Cassian only shook his head—again—and then flung an arm over your shoulder. 

“Don’t take that the wrong way. Just…take a second look, maybe.” 

“A second look at what? She was practically sitting in his lap tonight.” 

“If you say so,” Cassian hummed. 

“Stop being cryptic and buy me a snack on the way.” 

~~

The following days were… strange to say the least. 

Everywhere you went, Elain of all people was sure to follow.

And she spoke of Azriel. A lot. 

Azriel did this and Az is so sweet isn’t he and oh, did I mention that…

Obviously, she was just as in love with Azriel as he was with her. 

You were so, so right. 

There was something off-putting about that truth, but you couldn’t put your finger on why. After a few days of hearing the younger girl rave about the shadowsinger, you chalked it up to the novelty of it all. You had known Azriel for over a century, and things were changing. Of course a serious love interest in his life would make you feel strange. 

Azriel had had lovers in the past, but—now that you thought about it—you hadn’t heard him talk about another woman in months, much less seen him with one. 

Well, other than Elain. 

Perhaps it wasn’t healthy, nor productive, to be so caught up in Azriel’s love life. He was plenty capable of managing it on his own, and it’s not like you had that much of an interest, anyway. 

You blinked, shaking your head and attempting to focus back in on the book you were reading. Elain had followed you into the library under the house, but thanks to the priestesses and their admonishing looks, she kept quiet. She flipped through her own book as you continued your research assignment from Rhys. It wasn’t very interesting, which was clearly the most plausible explanation for your mind drifting to Azriel. 

Boring texts were the leading cause of nosiness.

“Do you have dinner plans?” Elain whispered after an hour of silence. 

You sent her a small smile, looking up from the archaic book. “No, are you inviting me out?” 

“Perhaps. I was thinking of asking Azriel.” 

A suffocating sort of pressure clawed at your skin. “Oh?” 

That was new. 

“Yes, but I would really appreciate it if you came,” Elain continued, eyes downcast. “It could be fun.” 

You bit into your bottom lip until the pain was uncomfortable. This was no different than her talking about Azriel all week. And you already figured that they liked each other—that they loved each other. You had relished in the discovery just a few nights ago. 

So why did it suddenly feel so different?

“I wouldn't want to intrude,” you whispered. “I think a dinner with just the two of you would be nice. Azriel would surely agree.” 

Elain shook her head. “I think he would be more inclined if he knew you were coming.” 

As a buffer. She was asking you to come to displace any awkwardness that would arise on a first date. You had done it before for Cassian. You’d done it plenty of times for Mor—even making it a double date with random men you never spoke to again. But you’d never done it for Azriel. 

Something about it felt… wrong. 

“I could come,” you found yourself saying anyway, words tumbling out before you could catch them. “But I really do think he would love a dinner alone. I might be a bit of an outlier.” 

Elain gave the closest thing to a smirk you’d seen on her face. “I somehow doubt that.” 

“What does that—” 

The ground was shaking. The faelights began violently flickering and the ground began shaking with even more vigor. You pressed down on the book in front of you and braced yourself as the air grew frenzied. The priestesses ran down the many stairs of the library as panic began setting into your bones. The last time something like this happened… 

You shuddered at the thought. 

This couldn't be an attack on Velaris. 

Elain called your name. You answered with wide eyes. 

“Get under the tables!”

You both dove beneath your table at the call, clutching at the legs with shaking hands. There was a commotion as books fell from shelves and lights popped, but there were no screams. No one was hurt. There was no attack. 

Realization coursed through you, but it did little to quell your fear as the shaking continued. 

“It’s an earthquake!” you shouted to Elain. “It’s okay, we’re going to be fine!” 

Velaris hadn’t been struck by an earthquake of this magnitude in many, many years. The last one was centuries ago, and it had led to many rebuilding efforts and a handful of injuries. You hoped this wasn’t on the same scale. Or at least that Rhys’ magic was enough to abate the worst of the damages. 

After another moment, the shaking ceased. You let the panic and adrenaline run its course as you caught your breath, Elain right beside you. It didn’t seem so bad now that it was over and the building had stayed intact. With a hand at your chest, you shook your head in disbelief. 

“By the cauldron, that was unexpected.” 

Elain let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt an earthquake before.” 

You offered your own breathy laugh as you both got to your feet. “Well, you have plenty of time to get The Mother scared out of you and experience another.” 

She opened her mouth to reply but was abruptly cut off as shadows materialized. Heavy footsteps rushed up stairs and it was only another beat before Azriel was upon you. Scarred hands cradled your face, turning it back and forth as hazel eyes took in every inch of your skin. Light became sparse as wings flared out behind him, shielding you from nothing.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, voice still low despite the urgency. “Were you covered?” 

“Azriel? What are you—How did you know we were down here?” 

“Are you hurt?” 

You attempted to reconcile the chaotic present with the very calm, very expected past. Sitting in the library with a boring relic in front of you and a new reading partner compared to an earthquake and a frazzled shadowsinger clutching at your face. 

Gripping his wrists, you answered him with a slow and confused, “I’m fine.” 

He closed his eyes as he let out a long breath. “Good…. good.” 

When he released your face, he ran his hands along your hair. And then your shoulders and your arms. It wasn’t until he had touched most of you that he took a step back and ran a hand through his own hair. It was then that he seemed to remember Elain. 

“And are you alright?” he asked, far more composed than he had been a moment ago. 

“A bit overwhelmed, but I am fine as well,” she sighed out. 

Azriel didn’t touch her as he nodded in relief. 

“Was it as bad as the last one? Is everyone okay?” you cut in. 

Azriel, who had gone back to unnecessarily looking you over, furrowed his brows. “What?” 

You mirrored his expression. “The earthquake. Do you remember the last one? Was this one that bad?” 

“Oh. No. Not as bad.” 

“And how is everyone else?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

Azriel was typically short with his answers, but right now he was being particularly short. And he was never one to not have information. Ever. 

“Are you okay?” you asked instead. 

“I am now.”

You left the library wondering why Azriel had run to you and not Elain—why that moment felt so monumental in the face of all others. 

Maybe being right wasn’t what you wanted anymore. 

But maybe that wasn’t your decision to make. 

[impeakcharacterdesign]

Just the Tip

— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —

MDNI!!!

Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.

But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.

Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.

No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe

Enjoy!!!

The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.

Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.

These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.

Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.

You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.

You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.

You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.

So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.

“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.

And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.

Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.

You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.

Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.

God, you wished it was you that was touching him.

Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.

The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”

You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”

You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.

You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.

It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.

God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.

The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.

“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —

And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.

“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.

"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat

His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.

But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him

“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”

Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.

You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.

When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.

“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.

This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.

He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.

Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.

Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.

His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.

“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.

This moment in time was just for the two of you.

“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”

Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.

[daisynik7]

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.3k

cw: next-door neighbor Nanami, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, cream pie, sex without a condom, mention of sex toys, use of pet names (sweetheart), just horny things lol 

Summary: You’re so completely insatiable that you’re going a tad bit insane. You enlist the aid of your next-door neighbor Nanami, who you know is more than willing to help.

Author’s Note: idk, just feeling a little feral for him, that’s all. this is a silly one, sorry. MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

part 2 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

You stare wide-eyed up at the ceiling of your bedroom, legs apart, the blankets shrugged off to the side. You’re naked from the waist-down, panties tossed to the floor with your vibrator hanging loosely in your grip. You’ve been going at it for nearly half an hour now, trying to chase a high that you just can’t seem to reach on your own. Sure, you’re doing fine. That’s just it, though. It’s just fine. Nothing spectacular, nothing mind-blowing. Tonight, you’re desperate to be filled, aching to be stuffed. Stimulation on your clit alone isn’t enough to satiate your appetite. 

You. Need. Cock.

And you think you know exactly where to find it. 

Nanami is your next-door neighbor. He’s quiet, even a bit shy at times. You’ve always found him attractive. Aside from his obvious good looks, he’s been kind to you since you met him when you moved in months ago. You’ve shared several meals together after you gave him fresh herbs and cherry tomatoes from your garden. That seemed to break the ice between you. Nothing more has ever happened, though there’s a palpable tension that surrounds you whenever you’re together, almost like you’re both willing to cross the line from neighbors to lovers, but too scared to do so. Subtle glances, lingering touches, suggestive comments. 

If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.

Whatever you need, I’ll be here.

I’m here for you if you need me.

Tonight, you’re in heat, daring to march right into his apartment and ask him for a huge favor. This might go horribly wrong, and maybe you’ll end up moving out from sheer embarrassment, but you know what? The fantasy of taking his big cock deep in your pussy is enough to convince you that it’s worth a shot. 

You wrap yourself in a robe, not bothering to put on any underwear, still wet from your previous orgasms. With three gentle knocks on his door, your heart starts to race, your instincts willing you to walk right back into your apartment and forget about this ridiculous idea. It’s too late, however. He answers, surprised to see you. You greet him with a weak smile, suddenly shy in his presence. “Hello, Nanami. Sorry to bother you.”

“You’re not,” he replies, stepping aside to let you in. “Are you alright?”

He shuts the door closed and you don’t have the nerve to look him in the eye. You were so confident just moments ago, and now look at you. Trembling and flustered. You cross your arms over your chest, unsure what to say. 

You feel him right behind you now, his body heat radiating towards you, close enough that if either of you moved even the slightest bit, you’d be touching. His breath is warm on your ear. “Are you alright?” he repeats, genuine concern in his voice. He’s always been so sweet to you. So nice. So helpful. Maybe he’d be okay with doing this for you, just this once. 

You turn to face him, cheeks hot, saliva gathering in your mouth. Swallowing thickly, you ask, “Can you help me?” It almost comes out as a whimper, a whine. So needy and so desperate for his touch.

His eyes drop to your waist, focused on the loose knot holding your robe together. His fingers tug gently at it, pulling it apart, revealing your half-naked body to him. You gasp softly, surprised and aroused by his sudden action. “Finally,” is all he mutters before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. He’s hungry and greedy, just like you are, tongue pushing against yours, eager for a taste of you. You moan into his mouth, pawing at his chest, bunching his shirt between your fists. He leads you to the couch, sitting down and hoisting you onto his lap, sliding the robe off your body along with the rest of your clothes. You’re completely bare for him now, spread out on his lap. He looks down between you, watching your arousal seep into his grey sweatpants. 

“So wet,” he groans. “How many times did you come tonight?” He grabs your chin, pulling you in to kiss you fiercely. 

“Three,” you answer, licking at his lips. 

He smiles against you, fingers trailing your body until they’re pressed to your puffy clit. “That sounds about right. I heard you through the walls, fucking yourself silly.”

“You did?” you huff, grinding on his palm, yearning for friction. 

He nods. “Oh yes. I heard every filthy moan from this pretty mouth of yours. Been waiting for you to finally give in and ask me for help.” He strokes your clit between his fingers, teasing your entrance to collect your cum, smearing it on your bud.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, rocking your hips against him. It feels so fucking good, but it’s still not enough. 

He knows exactly what you need. With his free hand, he shoves his pants down his legs, releasing his hard cock. You marvel at how pretty it is in his fist, stroking it and tapping it on your clit. You lift yourself off his lap to sink down onto his length, moaning wantonly until he’s all the way inside. Staying still, he kisses you sloppily, squeezing your ass in both his hands. 

“This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it sweetheart?” He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, nuzzling his nose to yours. “You wanted this cock, and now you have it. Show me how badly you need it.” He leans back against the couch, resting his palms behind his head, watching you like a spectator. “Ride me until I fill you up.”

Too horny to protest (and why would you anyways?), you obey, stroking his cock at a slow pace until you can adjust to his massive size. Once it becomes a fluid motion, you speed up, slapping your ass against his thighs. He’s deep in your womb now, so deep you feel it in your stomach. This is precisely the high you’ve been chasing all night, and it only makes it sweeter knowing it’s with him. Your handsome, nice, and clearly well-endowed neighbor, Nanami Kento. 

He's can’t stand not touching you any longer. His hands return to your waist, bouncing you on his lap like a rag doll, yielding to his every thrust. “You needed my cock today, huh? Needed my dick to pound this tight pussy of yours. Your stupid little toys weren’t enough, were they?”

You shake your head erratically, so close now. “Need you, Kento. Needed this fat cock inside me.”

He growls at the sound of his name from your mouth. “Fuck, I needed this too. Been needing it for a while now.” He latches his lips around your nipples, sucking on them until they’re plump between his lips. His thumb caresses your sensitive clit, massaging gentle circles around it. Suddenly, everything is too much. You’re gushing for him, coating his cock in your cream, all messy and obscene. Soon, he comes too, stuffing you full of his seed. Just when you think it’s over, he pulls out to lay you flat on the couch, spreading your legs wide, a naughty grin on his face before he dives in, lapping at your combined arousal. 

You wake up with Nanami’s name spilling out of your mouth. Disoriented, you look around, finding yourself back in your own bed, alone. It was all a dream. A fucking dream (literally). Disappointed and still horny, you sigh, heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up, calling it quits for the night. 

To your surprise, there’s a knock on your door. When you go to answer it, Nanami stands before you, an obvious blush on his face and an even bigger bulge in his grey sweatpants. He steps towards you, a shy smile on his face. “I heard you calling my name. Sounds like you could use a helping hand.” 

[phntmeii]

⭐️ OPLA Characters and the “Only One Bed” Trope

[Suggestive + No Gendered Terms]

⭐️ Characters Featured: Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Sanji, Mihawk

⭐️ A/N: So... Maybe just the part one to this if people like it? I'll write the next part with the other characters if people want it :) Anyway, cranking out these compilation posts because I’m brain broken with just OPLA content.

Monkey D. Luffy

✖️ Luffy didn’t show any concern about there being one bed. He saw it as something to find fun in a way! To share a bed with one of his friends!

✖️ He’s immediately jumping into the bed and turning to you, holding out his arms, waiting for you.

✖️ “I promise not to take up too much space! Come on!”

✖️ Luffy is immediately wrapping himself around you like a little backpack, nuzzling his head into your neck.

✖️ “M’so soft…” while his hand gently caressed your belly, gently grabbing and massaging it.

✖️ When he felt himself half-asleep, he didn't notice how he was trailing small kisses at your shoulder and the back of your neck. It was like an unconscious habit shining through.

✖️His arms around you are tightly clung so it’s safe to say that you aren’t leaving the bed until he lets you. And he just might not all night.

Roronoa Zoro

✖️ Zoro is immediately refusing. The moment he saw one bed in the room, he spun on his heels and walked out to try and complain.

✖️ When there really was no other rooms, he entered back inside with an annoyed look.

✖️ “Just… *sigh*. Take the bed. I’ll be fine”

✖️ Maybe he could just lay on the floor instead in his mind. Even when you offered to share, he refused. But, he soon found that the discomfort wasn’t worth it.

✖️ He carefully climbed into the bed, taking up the minimum he could at the edge. When he was drifting asleep, he didn’t notice his hands reach out for you, pulling your body toward his.

✖️ As if you were a stuffed animal, he pressed your body to his and hugged you close.

✖️ His tired voice just hushed you when you tried to ask what he was doing as his hands moved toward your chest. “Shh… Jus’… You’re warm.”

✖️ After your restless night together, the next morning, he acts as if he has no idea what you’re talking about when you ask him about last night.

Nami

✖️ Nami is annoyed but won’t make a big deal out of it. She’ll roll her eyes and complain while setting her stuff down.

✖️ “Let’s just… do what we can. It’s only for one night. You take that side, I’ll take this side.”

✖️ She didn't want to make you uncomfortable or overstep boundaries. Keeping on her side, facing away from you.

✖️ She soon heard you rustling around in the bed, unable to keep still, she was annoyed but asked what was wrong. "Nami... I just- Sorry, I can't sleep."

✖️ Nami's face softened in realization. Sighing, she scooted closer and pulled you into her, holding you close. Her hands gently rubbed your back.

✖️ "It's okay. I can make you feel better." She let her hands lightly caress your sides, trailing up to your neck then cheek. "C'mon, I'll help tire you out."

Vinsmoke Sanji

✖️ Sanji immediately smirked at the sight of one bed but on the inside, was absolutely dying from embarrassment at the idea of being so close to you.

✖️ He immediately laid in bed, hands behind his head with a cocky look. "Already nervous, beautiful? It's only one night..."

✖️ You were used to Sanji's flirting and mainly ignored it since he was like that with everyone. You weren't inherently special in your head.

✖️ The moment you relaxed into the bed on your side, facing away from Sanji, Sanji was laid on his side, eyes to your back. He hesitated to do anything but stare, but he couldn't help it. A phantom touch of his fingers lightly traced your spine.

✖️ You were initially going to complain like you normally did until Sanji scooted closer, placing a kiss at your shoulder. His hand lightly rubbing your arm.

✖️ You heard that ever-familiar teasing, soft laugh behind you. He enjoyed your reactions to his simple touches.

✖️ "You're so stiff... It's just my hands, you know? I just want... I need to feel you."

Dracule Mihawk

✖️ Mihawk stared at the bed indifferently. It was an inconvenience but certainly not something he was going to fuss about. It's just a bed.

✖️ He placed his belongings aside, getting ready for bed and slipping under the covers. When he saw you looking to instead sleep on the floor with your bag as a makeshift pillow, he didn't say anything.

✖️ Laying in bed, Mihawk always found it difficult to drift to sleep, as though he was meant to be tormented by the mere idea of sleep.

✖️ Maybe an hour had gone by and he looked over to see you still on the floor, huddled into yourself. He sighed loudly. "Stop forcing yourself to freeze. Lay down here."

✖️ Seeing you carefully slip under the covers as well, he looked over at you, eyes scanning your face then raking down your body.

✖️ Mihawk reached out with his hand, pulling you closer to him until your face was inches away from his. His stare was critical still, as it always was.

✖️ His hand went to the back of your head, gently caressing you. “I can warm you up, if you’d like me to. Lay back.”

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

[tootiecakes234]

Aged up Characters

MDNI: smutty

Katsuki had been gone for a month on an assignment and not only had he been away from you all that time, but it’d also been one of the most exhausting assignments he’d been on. Which is why he had EVERY intention of getting home and passing out in your shared bed for the next 3-4 business days.

He had a plan. Get home, take a shower and get directly into bed. Fuck food, fuck putting his things away.

But that entire plan went up in smoke when he got home.

He walks in with all his stuff and just drops everything close to the entrance. He trudges his way through the house and into your bedroom, when he hears the shower cut off.

He knew you were home because your car was in the driveway, but expected you to greet in the front room but he now sees you were otherwise occupied. What he didn’t expect was for you to come scampering out of the damn bathroom completely naked and dripping wet.

You of course screamed bloody murder because you hadn’t heard him come in.

“Katsuki what the hell?!! You scared the shit out of me! I could’ve killed you.”

He snorts, “with what? Your tits? Death by smothering??”

“Maybe dammit. My hearts almost came out of my throat.”

“So this is what you do when I’m gone huh?” He asks as he starts walking over to you. “Walk around naked and wet and what?? Do you air dry?” At this point his voice had dropped an octave or two and you could feel his eyes roaming over your body.

“No i d-don’t air dry…. Well that wasn’t my intention this time. I just left my towel out here.”

“Mmmm…” and he snakes his arms around your waist pulling you to him focusing his eyes on yours. “ I get home after a month and you dont even seem excited to see me.”

“Well maybe if you hadn’t tried to give me a heart attack…ouch asshole. Why the hell did you pinch my ass?”

“Be nice to me. I’m tired and jetlagged…. And now, because of you I’m hard” he of course takes this moment the press his groin up against you so you can feel how hard he actually is.

Your hands are resting on his biceps before the slide up and your hands sift into his hair.

“Well let me just dry off and I’ll help you with that” and you have the nerve to try and pull away from him.

“Why would you go dry off when I like you just like this hmm? Wet. And Naked.” And then he presses his firm lips against yours before sliding his hands down to cup both of your ass cheeks.

“Tell me you missed me brat. I’ve been here 5minutes and you haven’t said it.” He says with his lips pressed up against you ear and then he moves down and start placing sloppy kisses on your neck.

“Of, fuck, of course I missed you Katsuki. I sent you voice messages e-everyday telling you how much I missed you.” You whine.

“I don’t believe you.” And you jump before letting out a moan when this asshole slaps the hell out of one of your asscheeks. Then he slides his hand down and in between your puffy pussy lips.

When he pulls back to look at you there is a smirk playing on his lips. “Maybe you did miss me.”

“I told you.” You say as a pout forms on your lips.

“I can’t be sure though. I need you to prove it.”

“Prove it how Kat? I’m wet for you already. Is that not enough??”

Then his smirk turns into the most devilish smile you’ve ever see. “ i told you im exhausted from fighting villains, and you know making the world a safer place.”

“Get to the point you terrible man”

He chuckles at that. “Well that means I need you to be a big girl and do all the work this time. Need you to get my cock all wet with that filthy mouth of yours and then need you to ride me til I fill up my pretty little cunt ok?? Can you do that for me?”

All you can do is nod your head and drop to your knees.

This definitely not how he pictured his arrival home. It was so much better.

Katsuki Bakugo Masterlist

*id just like to say that this fic started with a whole different idea in mind and evolved into this and i never even got around to the original because it was getting too long😭

*also this isn’t proofread in the slightest so sorry🤭

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216 @kxtsxkii @liliththeunqualifiedsimp @burgvndy @fluffismystaplefood @yoyolovesdaiki @zaiban2989 @zanarkandskylines

[luveline]

Hey lovely, How about Hotch and wife!reader having their first family outing with new baby, a walk in the park or grocery shopping something like that you can pick.

Hope your having a good weekend lovely Xx <3 🌼

ty for your request ily <3 —you and Hotch juggle your small family for the first time. fem, 1.2k

“Please hold my hand?” 

Having a baby has activated some intrafamily jealousy, but you don’t mind. You’re cooing at Noah adoringly when Jack interrupts, thrusting his hand in the air, the very beginning of a tantrum lining his eyes and his thin eyebrows pinched like a threat. 

“Baby, don’t you wanna come and sit up here with Noah?” you ask. There’s not much room next to the carrier, but Jack's slight. 

He shakes his head, hand poking your tummy. Grocery shopping with Jack has always been hard, he wants to look at everything, wants to take the list, and doesn’t ever wanna sit in the cart, but it’s proving harder today. 

“Aaron, you have to push the cart.” 

He’s been begging you to let him for the last half hour. “It’s gonna tire me out,” he says, nudging you aside by the hip, “but I think I can handle it for you. You did call me by my first name for once. We reward good behaviour in this family.” 

You roll your eyes and take Jack’s little hand. Calling him Aaron now you’ve had a baby together should feel natural, but it doesn’t. It feels more like a loving nickname than his actual name —over two years of calling him Hotch is hard to ignore. 

Jack gives you a loving look that makes the fuss worth it. “This is fun,” he says. 

“This is awesome.” 

You and Jack got used to doing grocery shopping by yourselves while you were on your maternity leave without his dad. With Hotch now on his own paternity leave to accompany you, it is admittedly easier, and much more fun. You and Jack swing your hands together as Hotch steers the cart and your baby into the cereal aisle, which’ll take hours to get through, no doubt, but it doesn’t matter. What else is there to do? 

You make it Hotch’s job to say no to the boxes that are mostly sugar, and, unfortunately for Jack, get distracted by Noah in his baby carrier where it’s locked into the cart. His eyes reluctant to open, tired, dark lashes threaded together at their corners, his tiny mouth. “Aw, look at you, handsome, you’re nearly smiling. You look just like your daddy, he never wants to smile either,” you say, tapping his nose. 

Your saccharine tone prompts distress. “Y/N,” Jack whines, “you need to help me choose the cereal.” He yanks at your hand. 

“Jack, don’t start, bud.” 

“Dad,” Jack pouts. 

“No, it’s okay. We’re supposed to be sharing everybody now, so Jack gets to share me too. I’ll help you pick some cereal. I don’t mind,” you say. 

You sort of do mind, just a bit. This is Noah’s first time out in the world that wasn’t sitting peacefully in the backyard, and you don’t want him to be scared. Maybe baby’s can’t be scared, you don’t know. It’s nicer to feel close to him in these big moments. But it’s Jack’s first time having a baby brother at the store, too, so you’ll have to make it work. 

“You don’t have to,” Hotch says. 

“It’s fine, it’s okay.” You bend down to see the cereal selection. “They have your favourite, Cinnamon Toast Crunch. And your second, Fruity Pebbles. It’s up to you, it’s your treat.” 

Jack gasps and hits a box of Fruity Pebbles, “Barney’s on the box now!” he says, pointing at the blonde character behind the cereal bowl. 

You give a soft laugh quickly lost as Jack’s force topples the box. It hits the floor with a light crunch. “Oh, whoops. Let’s pick this up,” you say, popping down into a crouch without thinking. 

“Honey–” Hotch says, which would surely be followed by a Should you be doing that? if you weren’t already flopping onto one knee in pain. 

Bad idea. Terrible idea. Having a baby tears a mixture of tissue and muscle, and while the fiery pain of labour has since become a bad memory, a spike of trauma erupts between your legs. “Ow,” you yelp, eyes welling with unbidden tears. 

“Y/N!” Jack and Hotch say simultaneously. 

“Are you alright?” Hotch asks, bending at the waist to grab you, never cruel but clearly perturbed as his hands grasp your shoulders. They slip down under your arms. “Come on, can you stand up?”

You blink away tears and force yourself to stand with his help. He’s quick to pull you close, one hand on your wrist, head ducked to see your face. “Are you okay? What happened?” 

You let out a queasy breath. “Something’s not done fixing itself,” you joke weakly. 

“Are you alright?” he asks again, lower. 

“I’m fine.” You’d love to sit down. The pain is a thrum like your heartbeat now, hurting but half as intense. “I’m okay. Really, it just shocked me.” 

He slips his arm around your neck to encourage you in for a temple kiss. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You wiggle out of Hotch’s hold. Jack stands with a large pout near the fallen box of cereal, his hands twisting together over his tummy. “It’s okay,” you say. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, panicked tears slipping down his cheeks. “You hurt getting it and it was mine, I’m sorry.” His voice squeezes out of him in guilty pangs. 

“It’s okay!” you repeat, leaning over with a wince to offer your arms, “It’s really okay, it’s not your fault. Don’t be upset, baby, I’m fine.” 

You hoist Jack into your arms as he begins crying in earnest. His crying startles Noah, who starts to whimper, and then sob despite Hotch’s gentle shushing. You look at one another in mild defeat, your hand cupping the back of Jack’s head as he clings to you for reassurance. 

Noah’s sobbing is like a ringing bell. Jack says he’s sorry into your neck, and it’s such a desperate scene you let a laugh slip out. “Aw, baby,” you say, smiling as you press your nose to his cheek, “it’s really okay. It wasn’t your fault at all, it was just ‘cos I’m out of practice. I’m just tired.” 

“You fell.” 

Noah gurgles behind you. “I know,” Hotch says quietly. “I know. You’re okay, bud. Jack’s okay. Mom’s okay. Shh, shh.” 

It’s obviously not how you’d want your shopping trip to go, but Jack’s crying eventually slows, sapping all of his energy, and so he finally agrees to sit in the cart. The only problem is that he doesn’t fit there as well as you’d thought he would. Hotch ends up carrying him the entire time you’re in the store, and Noah doesn’t ever settle. You’re like zombies when you get back to the car, a headache stark between your ears and evident in his pinched brow. 

“Let’s try again in a few weeks,” Hotch suggests. “I can go by myself. Or we can make somebody else.”  

You wish you had the energy to kiss his brow, giving a defeated nod as you slouch down into your seat, grateful at least for his hand on your knee. “Okay.”