#( one idea WITH the 'i love you' and one WITHOUT it )

[classyrbf]

thinking about jerking off nerd!gojo with your tits in his dorm room. You couldn’t care less for the loser, forced to have him as a tutor because you were failing your chem classes and needed an easy way out of your parents bitching at you. Quite literally you’ve gotten tired of hearing him talk and talk about stupid elements, formulas and equations because you’d rather much see the look on his face when he’s about to cum and hear how he sounds when he’s begging.

So that’s how you ended up on your knees in front of him, shirt unbuttoned and your tits covered in his pre cum, his thick and veiny cock pulsing between the two mounds of flesh as you move it up and down his sensitive shaft. His breath hitches, cheeks flushed a bright red, hands shaking as he struggling to push his glasses back up only for them to slide back down. “F-fuck,” he so sweetly whimpers, licking his dry lips. He loves the way you’re looking up at him, like you’re staring into his soul while simultaneously taking it. His heart pounds against his chest, relishing in the feeling of your soft skin hugging his aching cock, your warm tits only giving him an idea of what your pussy might feel like.

“Nngh, oh f-fuck…we’re…supposed to be…studying,” he managers to croak out through his pathetic moans and whimpers. His sucks in a breath, eyes rolling back when you go even faster, the sound of wet flesh smacking against each other makes the perverted part of his brain go into overdrive. He’s so fucking close.

“Awe, but don’t you wanna cum, Toru?” You teasingly ask, watching the way his throbbing red tip leaks another bead of precum only adding to the lubrication. The nickname alone drives Gojo crazy. He fists the sheets below him, jaw slack, a dazed look in his eyes. “We’ll make a deal, yeah? I’ll let you cum and do this as many times as you want as long as you do my chem work for me.” You smile, holding your tits tighter. “Deal?”

“Ok, ok, ok.” He ferociously nodded, biting down on his bottom lip. “I wanna cum so badly, please.” He let out a ragged breath, falling back on the bed as his body began twitching, hips jolting upward to create more friction. Just in mere seconds, ropes of sticky, hot cum shot up, landing on your tits. “Shit, shit! Ah, ah, nngh!” Gojo’s eyes rolled back. This feels like the most he’s ever came in his life. His legs began to shake the longer his orgasm lasts, groans and whimpers escaping his throat, filling the small room. His raspy breaths fall short, finally coming down from his high. He can barely even think straight now.

“God, you made such a mess!” You huff, looking down at your coated tits.

“Oh, uh—I’m sorry!” Gojo quickly sits up, panicking as he searches around for something to help you clean up. He swiftly hands you one of his shirts, handing it to you. You snatch it from his hands, wiping up every last drop of cum before tossing his shirt to the side. “Are you…um—”

“I gotta go.” You stand up, buttoning your shirt. “Thanks for agreeing to the deal.” You lean over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Gojo watches as you leave his dorm room without a care in the world, acting like you didn’t just milk him dry with your tits. At least he has something to look forward to every few days now.

[beloveds-embrace]

Hiiii hshsh

So I got this idea on a car ride late at night after going to an extremely loud pub!! Which gave me this idea:33

Poly!141 plus reader

None of them know how to cook because they're used to having premade meals at the messhall or rations on missions! so when reader comes along (they can be part of the task force or they can be civilian), and they cook for them the lads decide that they're theirs now!! :3

I love this idea anon 😩😩

You didn’t think much of it at first, truly.

Cooking had always been second nature to you- something soothing, something tangible in a life filled with chaos. And in the military, chaos was the only constant.

It didn’t take long to realize something alarming, though: none of your teammates knew how to cook.

Not even the basics.

Soap, bless his heart, thought instant noodles counted as a proper meal. Gaz once tried to scramble eggs and somehow set off the smoke alarm. Ghost? The man could survive in the wild for weeks but willingly lived off protein bars and black coffee when left to his own devices. And Price could grill, sure, but anything beyond that? No chance. And it wasn’t as if a grill was always available.

So, you cooked.

Not because they asked. Not because you had to, or were made to feel like you had to. But because the first time you made something decent- just a simple stew, hearty and warm, after a grueling training session- they all looked at you like you had hung the damn moon itself.

Soap groaned after his first bite, tipping his head back in dramatic bliss. “Marry me.”

Gaz, already going for seconds, nodded solemnly. “Seconded. You can’t just cook like this and expect us to let you go.”

Ghost didn’t say anything outright, but the way he cleaned his bowl and then, after a pause, slid it forward for more? Yeah. That spoke volumes.

Price took his time eating, but you caught the way his gaze softened as he watched you. Like he was making a decision.

You didn’t realize what that decision was until the next morning.

You woke up to find all four of them stationed in the kitchen, waiting. Gaz leaned against the fridge, Soap sat on the counter, Ghost loomed in the doorway, and Price stood at the stove like he had any idea what to do with it.

“What,” you mumbled, still groggy. “Are you all doing?”

Price met your eyes, calm and sure. “Waiting on breakfast. If you do wanna make it, that is.”

And that was that.

You should’ve known. Feeding a group of hungry, half-feral soldiers meant claiming them.

And, apparently, it meant they claimed you too.

The first time you all came back from a mission completely wrecked, it happened without thought.

Everyone was exhausted- cut up, bruised, dragging themselves through debrief with only the promise of a hard-earned shower keeping them upright.

You were just as battered. Just as drained. But the moment you stepped into the barracks and saw the half-hearted collection of protein bars and tasteless ration packs sitting on the counter, something inside you rebelled and cracked.

No. Not tonight.

Your body screamed for rest, but you ignored it, rolling up your sleeves and getting to work. It’ll be worth it, you kept telling yourself, and the promise of an actual meal kept you going.

You weren’t alone for long, thougg.

Kyle trudged into the kitchen first, watching with quiet amazement as you moved. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know.” you murmured, but kept going. A warm, fresh meal…

Soap dragged himself in next, blinking at you blearily before rubbing a hand over his face. “You’re an angel, bonnie. A bloody angel.”

Ghost leaned against the doorframe when he came a little later, watching. He didn’t say a word, but when you swayed slightly from exhaustion, he moved- one steady hand pressing against the small of your back, grounding you. He didn’t tell you to stop, or get in your way- just stayed by you, a steady, comforting presence.

Also helped chop the vegetables when you asked.

John didn’t say anything either. But he sat at the table, waiting patiently, eyes tracking every movement like he was memorizing you.

By the time you put the food down- something warm, filling, real- they were too tired to talk, but their gratitude was written in every movement and shone through every appreciative sigh they let out

Soap sighed into his bowl like it was the only thing keeping him alive. “If I die tonight, at least I die happy.”

Gaz nudged your foot under the table, a quiet thank you.

Ghost, ever quiet, simply refilled your plate before his own.

And Price met your eyes across the table, something unreadable yet warm in his expression, before nodding once. “Good work, soldier.”

The second time, it was worse.

The mission had gone sideways, backwards, and right into hell.

It had been long, brutal, pushing all of you to the breaking point. When you finally stepped back onto base, none of you were unscathed- Soap’s knuckles were split, Gaz’s jaw was bruised, Ghost had a gash along his ribs, and Price carried exhaustion like it was part of him.

And you? You were running purely on fumes.

But the moment you made it back to your quarters and saw the way they all moved- silent, weighed down by the kind of tired that settled in your bones- you knew.

Without thinking, you made your way to the kitchen.

Soap’s voice, hoarse with fatigue, followed you. “You don’t have to, lass. You gotta rest-“

“I know.” You croaked out. And you still did it anyways.

The stew took time. Slow, steady, the scent filling the air like something solid. Something safe. It gave you enough time to lay your head down just a little, eyes slipping shut just long enough for you not to pass out.

They didn’t argue.

They didn’t tell you to sit down, to rest, to stop.

Instead, they hovered- Soap setting the table, Gaz nudging a chair toward you every time you leaned too hard against the counter, Ghost watching you in that way he did when words weren’t enough.

Price stood beside you near the stove, his hand brushing your shoulder in quiet appreciation.

And when you finally sat down, they made sure you ate first; Soap nudged the biggest portion toward you. Gaz made sure your glass was full. Price made sure you didn’t lift a finger once the meal was done.

Ghost was the last to move, reaching over to take your wrist, squeezing once. A quiet thank you in the way only he could say it.

That night, none of them let you leave, either.Soap pulled you down onto the couch between him and Ghost, resting his head against yours with a tired sigh, and Simon pulled your legs to rest on top of his thighs.

Gaz, already half-asleep with his back rest against the couch, muttered.” You’re stuck with us now, you know.”

And Price draped a blanket over your shoulders, the weight of it solid and grounding. He patted your head, then his hand slid down to squeeze your shoulder while your eyes slipped shut, drifting off into a much-needed sleep. “That’s how it works.”

[captain-huggy-bear]

Perfect Fit

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: You fit perfectly into Quinn's family, knowing how much they love you just makes Quinn realise that you're it for him.

Notes: Requested by an anon, I hope you like it. I went with a kind of snapshot of events vibe for this one

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

He's never had a girlfriend who fit in quite so well into his family because you were quite literally a perfect fit. Every single member of his family loved you. His mom, his dad, his brothers, his grandma, all his cousins. There wasn't a single person who didn't ask where you were when you couldn't come to a family event or who didn't write you a Christmas card or a birthday card. You were in every family group chat, on everyone's list of Christmas presents to buy.

You'd integrated so well into his family that he couldn't really imagine a life without you because suddenly there'd be a missing puzzle piece in the family puzzle, a glaring gap. The sort of hole that would be so noticeable, so obvious.

It's extra obvious whenever he goes to a family event without you, like tonight. You're held up with a big work project, leaving Quinn to go to the big family get together on his own. He knew everyone would be upset about it, there was only so often that all the family were in the local area and you not being there would be obvious to them.

His grandma has already found herself a comfortable armchair when he arrives for the party, cousins, aunts and uncles milling about. His brothers talking to his parents by the snacks, Luke stuffing his face between sentences because he seemed to have hollow legs these days.

"Hey, Grandma'"

"Hey, sweetie," He kisses his grandma on the cheek letting her pull him in tight for a hug, but it's clear her attention isn't on him, her eyes looking over his shoulder, searching.

"You alright, Grandma?" He's a little put out to be honest. His grandma, who he hasn't seen in months, barely looking at him, eyes scanning the room.

"Where's Y/N?"

"Oh, she couldn't make it, she's got a big project goin' on at work and has to stay late for the next week or so." There's part of him that preens at her question because his grandma loves you, something he can't help but love. He loves it for himself, but he also loves it for you knowing you didn't have the best relationship with your own grandparents, knowing that his grandma had healed something in you that no one could see.

"Oh, but I wanted to see her so badly, Quinn! I was going to give her my recipe, the one she asked for to make those snickerdoodles she liked so much." She looks genuinely sad and Quinn briefly considers face timing you to show you because you'd probably cave and drop your work project for his grandma and then he'd have you here. God, he misses you...

"Well, I can give it to her, grandma."

"No! I want to give it to her, what if you lose it?" He can't help the offended scoff he lets out or the way his jaw drops open in shock. His grandma not trusting him more than you hurt a little, even as he loved that she adored you so much. He was perfectly capable of not losing a stupid snickerdoodle recipe...

His mood is no less grumpy when Jack and Luke sling their arms over his shoulders, laughing at him and the way his grandma is holding her recipe to her chest as if he might snatch it from her.

Jack is the worst, "Oh he'd definitely lose it, grams!"

Quinn glares at him, "I'll make sure she comes to the next one, grandma, yeah?" He tries his best to not take his annoyance with Jack out on his grandma, trying to focus on that fuzzy little feeling in his chest at how much she seems to love you. He's never had a girlfriend his grandma really cared much about beyond the occasional question, but you? God, she's not happy to just see him anymore, if he doesn't bring you along she's always visibly disappointed.

"Mmm, it'll have to do! Tell her I love her will you?"

"Course, grandma..." He grunts out, rolling his eyes as Jack and Luke laugh and start dragging him away. As he goes he can't help but mutter under his breath, "More than you love me clearly"

"Jack Rowden Hughes!" Your hands are on your hips glaring at Jack outside the Lake House, a smoking microwave between the two of you where Luke and Quinn had tossed it after hearing your panicked calls for help. The microwave in question had been briefly on fire, not something Quinn really thought he'd be dealing with today.

"Oh god, he's done it now..." Quinn can't help but grin, leaning against the side of the house as he watches you, Luke stood next to him looks more concerned and less amused.

"Should we save him?"

"Nah, I wanna watch this." Quinn's grin widens at the way Jack seems to shrink under your glare like a naughty kid. You've definitely got the mom voice down. It's like watching a younger Jack whenever their mom had to tell him off for something stupid or reckless.

"You just want to watch your girlfriend rip into him because you think it's hot."

"And can you blame me?" He can't even deny it. Quinn thinks you're beautiful all the time, but there's something especially thrilling about watching you rip into his little brother about nearly setting the Lake House on fire.

There's a pause from Luke where he looks at Quinn unsure, words coming out slow and cautious, unsure, "I feel like that's a trick question."

"You would be correct, don't even think about suggesting my girlfriend is hot." Quinn glares a Luke even though the truth is he's playing about. He knows you're beautiful and he also knows both his brothers consider you to be a sister figure, he knows he doesn't need to worry. But, it's funny to give Luke a hard time sometimes.

"So, should I say she's ugly?"

"She's gorgeous but you don't need to think that. Strictly platonic thoughts only, Lukey."

"Quinn?" He looks over with a raised eyebrow, "I love you, but you're insane." They're both pulled from their conversation by the sound your voice again, loud and clear and very much scolding.

You've still got your hands on your hips, a glare has developed on your features and Jack looks even more like his teenage self if possible. His hair is a mess, hands having run through it repeatedly, tugging on the strands.

"What on earth possessed you to think putting tin foil in a microwave was a good idea?! It's metal, Jack! You nearly blew up the microwave!" You feel like you're back at university, dealing with barely legal individuals who can't figure out that cooking a whole chicken in a microwave is simply not going to work. Jack Hughes has managed to give you a headache. His sheepish grin manages to soften some of your edges, but you're still baffled and confused by Jack's sheer lack of common sense.

"How was I supposed to know that that wasn't something you should do?!"

"It's common sense, Jack! Did you not pass science?" You know he did, well aware that Jack was not in fact an idiot. But, Jesus Christ on a bike...tin foil in the microwave? The microwave?! The smell of burning plastic and metal is still assaulting your nose, the adrenaline from thinking the house was about to burn down still running through you.

"...I hate you." Jack's pout breaks you a little, a huff of a laugh leaving you as your shoulders relax somewhat because in reality the whole situation is funny, now that the Lake House isn't about to burn down.

"No you don't."

Jack sighs loudly, stepping around the microwave to pull you into a side hug, "No...I don't...I'm sorry for nearly blowing up the microwave."

"It's okay, I love you even if you're an idiot." You grin up at your boyfriend's brother, who looks at you aghast, jaw dropped at your audacity.

"Hey!"

Quinn can't help but smile, the way you just fit in with his baby brothers, how Jack enjoys your company and how easy you find it to mess with him. You fit in like a puzzle piece.

Summers at the Lake House might be your favourite, the warm wood of the deck beneath your feet, the sun on your skin, a little chubby toddler running towards you at full pelt while you laugh, Quinn watching on from the side lines because he can't help but adore how you act with his baby cousins. You're made for it, made for his family, but made for interacting with little kids too, so gentle with them, but fun too. They love you so much that he can't help but practically develop heart eyes.

"Up! Up!" Quinn's baby cousin, Chase, is at your feet, arms in the air making grabby motions with his hands. His floppy sun hat is a little too large for him and covers his eyes in an adorable fashion, but at least it protects him a little from the summer sun at the Lake House.

"Up? You want to be up here?" You gesture with you arms as you grin down at the little toddler, his chubby cheeks red from running towards you, his skin covered in sun cream.

"Up!" His hands continue to make grabbing motions at you, hands clenching into fists and unclenching in quick succession. He grins at you wide, his gap filled smile endearing.

"What's the magic word?" You're smiling wide at his cousin, even as you remind him of his manners and there's just something so...so affable, so natural about the whole thing.

"Up, pwease!" His little toddler lisp more pronounced on the word, drawing it out until you're laughing, reaching down to grab him under the arms and lift him up into your own.

He squirms a little at first before settling himself comfortably against you, head leaning on your shoulder, smiling up at you like you've hung the moon in the sky. You hold Chase so naturally that Quinn can't really help but think about what it might be like one day when the toddler in your arms is your own. A little toddler with his nose, your eyes and some combination of you both that just seems to work. How you'd carry them around the Lake House, helping them toast marshmallows over the firepit and teaching them eventually how to swim.

"She's good with the kids..." It's his mom who comes up behind him, smiling wide, blue eyes practically glowing as she puts her arm through his.

"I know..." He can't take his eyes off you, you've started to tickle chase, the toddler squirming in your arms as he laughs loudly, big grin on his little face as his favourite person gives him undivided attention. You're practically glowing, wide smile on your face, your own laugh resonating through the air. His chest tightens with affection, an ache for something he hasn't got quite yet, a yearning in his chest.

"Makes you think, huh?" His mom is smirking at him and he knows he's being obvious, knows she can tell how in love he is, how desperate he is to make you a permanent fixture in his life...to make the image in front of him slightly different, a toddler that looks like a combination of the two of you in your arms rather than his baby cousin.

There's a beat of silence where Quinn watches you, a soft smile on his lips, eyes full of love, and his mom watches him, the way he can't seem to hide how deeply he loves you. It's how she knows you're it for him before he even says a word, it helps that Ellen can't help but love you. She's always been welcoming to Quinn's past girlfriends, but she's never quite loved one as much as she loves you. You're good for Quinn, that's the real crux of why she loves you so much...because you give Quinn something to love that's not hockey, you give him another purpose while getting him to shut off, to rest. Of all her sons Quinn is the most dedicated, and with that dedication comes the weight of the world on his shoulders. It's like you walked in one day, and stepped underneath the globe with him to make holding the weight a little easier.

"I think she's it, Mom...I think that's my wife right there..."

"Yeah? I'd hope so because I'll ground you for life if you let her go."

"I'm 25 years old, Mom." He can't help but laugh at his mother, eyes rolling as she grins at him, laugh lines deepening around her mouth and besides her eyes. He's missed this during the season, the unrestricted family time, the back and forth with his mom that makes everything feel simple, even the concept of a proposal, of marriage.

"I can still ground you, I'm your mother." Ellen pokes him in the ribs, Quinn twisting away with a huff.

"Well, good thing I'm not planning on letting her go anywhere anytime soon." He pats his jacket pocket, the shape of a box just visible enough to cause his mom to gasp and he knows, fuck, he knows it's the right choice.

He loves you, adores you, can't imagine a life without you and his mom? She's so excited, so happy, not just because it's Quinn, but because it's you. He'd love you even if his family didn't, but there's something about how much they do love you that makes this perfect, makes this feel so utterly right.

Now he just needs to find the right moment, the right time to finally make you a permanent part of the family.

[thewitchblue]

Could you write something about looking into Jason’s wallet and seeing a picture of his lover there?

"Found it!"

Dick said, holding the wallet victoriously. The duo went on a scavenger hunt for Jason's wallet after he lost it. Dick has the hidden talent of being about to find anything.

Jason, to his horror, watched your photo leave his wallet as Dick held it up high. He really did not want to talk about you to his brother, especially this brother. He'd even tolerate stalker Tim finding out before Dick.

"Who's this?"

Dick asked innocently as he looked at your picture. Jason knew he should have put the picture in a more secure part of his wallet, but he didn't want to risk scratching or crinkling it. Now, he will be hounded until Dick and you meet.

The picture wasn't an anniversary, date, or even a birthday party, but it was special to him. It felt intimate to him, and it felt like a slice of life he didn't know he needed.

You often tease that it's the only picture you have of him smiling, but that's not true. You have hundreds of pictures with you both, but he's a lot more picky with the pictures he keeps.

This picture is his favourite because it was taken without either of your knowledge. It was raw, not staged. Artemis took the picture after sneaking into the house. She originally wanted to use it as blackmail to extort money out of him, but you idiots were too in love to notice or really even care if you got leaked to the others, so she simply left and sent the picture to the group chat with a vomiting emoji.

He can see the unfiltered adoration on your face and the lovesick grin you gave him. It felt special to him, and it continued to feel special every time he saw it.

You both were breaking away from a kiss. Your hand cradled his face gently, and his arms seemed to be drawing you in by your waist. You were mimicking his Red Hood suit with a leather jacket, black cargo pants, and a Red Hood shirt that you modified to have a hood. He remembers calling you a copycat with a huge smile.

"That is none of your goddamn business."

Jason said as he took both his wallet and his picture back. Dick gave him a grin that made him know he was in trouble. Dick was going to find out one way or another. Jason rolled his eyes. Dick said smoothly,

"I'll hunt them down."

Jason shook his head. Good luck finding you. You live like a ghost. He doubts even he could find anything about you.

"Good luck finding them. There is nothing on file for them anywhere."

He cursed under his breath when he heard your special knocking pattern. Dick practically ran to the door, but Jason was faster. He managed to hit Dick over the head with a frying pan like a cartoon character.

"Are you okay, sugar bear?"

Not really. Jason was wrestling with his brother now, but he called out,

"I'm fine, munchkin. Taking care of business."

You knew what that meant and started to walk away. Until Dick was thrown through the wall and nearly knocked you down. You eyed the grinning man as Jason groaned. Dick always gets what he wants in the end, no matter what.

"You must be the lover."

Dick said as he stood up and brushed off the drywall on him. You went to stand by Jason with a frown. Jason swings an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him in a protective way. He really doesn't trust Dick with you.

You gave him a cheek kiss and asked,

"What's wrong, sugar bear? Is he dangerous?"

How do you not know the Wayne family? Well, you don't live in Gotham. You live in a neighbouring city, but it's not a long drive, so you always drive to see your sugar bear.

"You have no idea. I don't know what he's going to do with this knowledge."

You kissed him quickly and cuddled into his side. He always makes you feel protected and safe. You will be protected from Dick until Jason's dying breath.

"I'll keep it a secret if I know more."

Dick said confidently. He's a man of his word, and so were you.

"What questions?"

You assume the basic, "how did you meet," but instead you got,

"Why do you have a ring?"

You look at your hand with a fond smile. It wasn't anything fancy; simply a silver banded ring with a small emerald in the middle. You smiled,

"It's my promise ring. Jason has a matching one."

Jason hesitated before pulling out the necklace that held his ring. He didn't want it to break or for any villain to find out about you. He keeps it tucked away safely as a necklace and under his Red Hood gear.

Dick looked offended. How has he never noticed? He was surprised and hurt by the lack of trust. He thought Jason would at least tell him about you.

"When did you start dating?"

You smiled up at Jason. You were happily tucked under his arm and into his side. It gave you confidence.

"It will be our second anniversary in two days."

Jason answered. He's always on top of romantic gestures and dates. He went all out the last anniversary. He brought you to all your favourite spots before ending on a cliffside watching the sunset and cuddling on the blanket he insisted on bringing despite being on a motorcycle and how impractical it was to bring along. He had to fold it at least four times to fit it in his pocket so it didn't get caught in the wheels.

Dick didn't like that answer. Two whole years without ever revealing you to the family. That hurt his big brother ego. He should know everything.

It's none of their business, in Jason's opinion. His love life shouldn't matter to his family. What's the big deal? It's not like he's married.

"How did you meet?"

Your smile turned into a mischievous grin as Jason groaned. It was so awful to him. He felt horrible.

"I accidentally sneaked up on him at an old bookstore, and he judo flipped me in surprise."

You laughed, but Jason's grip on you tightened slightly. He'll never forgive himself for hurting you, even if it was an ice breaker that led to your relationship.

Dick looked at Jason with disapproving eyes and Jason felt the exact same way. He felt terrible for judo flipping you.

"No need to be sad, sugar bear. It led to us."

You took his hand that was resting on your hip and kissed it gently. You lightly squeezed it to reassure that everything is okay.

Dick smiled at the happy couple. Sure, it was unfortunate the way you met, but the love was clearly there, and he was happy that his little brother could finally find peace and love.

[kashverse]

valentine’s day is a day of love, a day of romance, a day of thoughtful gifts and heartfelt gestures. at least, that’s what it’s supposed to be. in reality, it’s a chaotic mess of procrastination, poor planning, and half-baked ideas that somehow still turn out endearing.

gojo, for one, is convinced he’s got it all figured out—until he realizes a week before that he, in fact, does not. cue the absolute frenzy of online shopping, where express shipping fees start resembling down payments on luxury cars. you have never seen someone willing to pay $250 to ensure a singular plushie arrives on time, but here you are, witnessing gojo justify it with “it’s the principle, babe.” and when one of the plushies arrives looking like a legally-dubious cousin of hello kitty, affectionately dubbed "salutations feline," you know better than to ask questions. you just nod, accept the gift, and pretend it’s exactly what you wanted.

toji is really trying. genuinely. he even set aside money in a little envelope weeks ago, determined to get you something nice. unfortunately, he has the memory of a goldfish and cannot, for the life of him, remember where he put it. after turning the apartment upside down in a mild panic, he sighs, gives up, and buys you flowers instead. the disappointment in his eyes is real. but then, in a turn of events that could only be described as divine intervention, he finds the envelope wedged in the back of his underwear drawer while changing after a couple’s shower. he immediately drags you out for a fancy dinner, smug as hell, as if he planned it this way all along.

nanami is not here to play games. doubting his valentine’s day preparedness is like doubting if gravity will continue existing tomorrow. the moment you started dating, he created an excel sheet of your preferences. the list includes everything—things you’ve mentioned wanting in passing, your favorite colors, gift ideas you’ve sent him, and couple activities you’ve liked on social media. by the time february rolls around, he is four and a half weeks ahead of schedule. while others are scrambling for last-minute gifts, nanami is already wrapping yours in high-quality, sustainably sourced paper with a perfectly tied bow. he will not reveal how much thought went into it—he simply hands you the gift, kisses your forehead, and tells you to enjoy.

geto does not do things halfway. when he plans a valentine’s day surprise, he plans a valentine’s day surprise. there is a live band. live dancers. a live chef preparing a five-course meal. for a brief moment, you wonder if you’ve stepped into a wedding reception. as much as you love the grandeur, a part of you wishes there was something more intimate—something just between the two of you. it isn’t until he gets down on one knee and pulls out a ring that it all makes sense. the hidden cameras, the elaborate setup—he wasn’t just planning valentine’s day. he was planning the moment he’d ask you to spend forever with him. naturally, you burst into tears, because what else is there to do when suguru geto proposes?

choso, bless his heart, approaches valentine’s day with pinterest. a mistake. the sheer volume of ideas overwhelms him, and suddenly, he has 598 saved pins and no clear direction. still, he tries. he does 60 of them—which is a lot—but somehow, he still sits there at the end of the night, shoulders slumped, muttering, “i should’ve done more.” you, surrounded by candlelit dinners, handmade gifts, and personalized love letters, have to physically hold his face and tell him he has done enough.

sukuna does not do valentine’s day. he has made this abundantly clear. and yet, despite his insistence that it’s a “pointless holiday,” you notice he’s a little different that day. his usual sharp comments are softer, his touches linger a little longer, and he does things for you without being asked. no grand declarations, no fancy gifts, just small acts of care—holding you closer, making sure you’re comfortable, easing up on the teasing (only slightly). and while he still grumbles about the holiday, you catch him staring at you a little too long, the corner of his lips twitching up in something dangerously close to affection. maybe next year, he’ll actually acknowledge the holiday. but for now, this is enough.

[goldfades]

hiiii idea popped in my head seeing joey on the phone but like imagine he’s away and trying to help y/n get kids to bed but it’s hard since he’s away 🥰😭 sorry i have to share the imaginings happening :-))))

no, baby i love when people share their cute little ideas!!! i hope you enjoy this one<3

The second Joe’s face popped up on FaceTime, Hayes let out a dramatic gasp—like he had just seen a celebrity in the wild.

"Dada!"

You winced as his little voice echoed through the house, far louder than necessary. "Hayes, baby, inside voice," you reminded him, but it didn’t matter. The damage was already done.

From down the hall, you heard the unmistakable wail of your youngest, jolted awake by his big brother’s sudden outburst. You closed your eyes for a brief second, sighing, already bracing for the next half hour of chaos.

Joe must have heard it, too, because his face twisted in sympathy. "That bad, huh?"

You turned your attention back to the phone, where Joe was sitting in his hotel room, half-smiling, half-wincing, freshly showered with wet curls sticking to his forehead.

"That bad," you confirmed, shifting Hayes further onto your hip. He had his tiny fingers fisted in your shirt, but his eyes were locked on the screen, grinning so big it made his dimples pop.

"Hi, buddy," Joe said, his voice warm and fond.

"Dada, when you coming home?" Hayes asked, tilting his head.

Joe’s face softened. "Couple more days, bud. But guess what? We have a game tomorrow. Are you gonna watch?"

Hayes nodded enthusiastically, kicking his legs in excitement. "I wear my jersey!"

"You better. Gotta match me, right?"

Hayes nodded again, his little hands now gripping the phone like he could somehow pull Joe through the screen.

It wasn’t the first time he had gone through this phase. As you liked to say, Hayes had his "favorites"—rotating obsessions that switched every few months. Sometimes it was dinosaurs, sometimes it was a specific pair of socks he refused to take off for days at a time, and sometimes, it was Joe.

This was one of those times.

For the past couple of weeks, everything had been about Joe. Hayes only wanted to watch football, only wanted to play "catch" in the backyard, only wanted to FaceTime his dad 24/7. If Joe was around, you were nothing—completely cast aside.

Which, really, you didn’t mind. Because the way Joe lit up every time Hayes showed even an ounce of excitement over football or his job in general—it was worth every second of being ignored.

What you did mind, however, was getting him to sleep without Joe here.

"Okay, buddy, we gotta say goodnight to Dada," you said, shifting Hayes in your arms.

"No!" Hayes protested immediately, curling his little fingers into fists. "Not yet!"

Joe chuckled. "C’mon, H, listen to Mama. You gotta go to bed."

Hayes pouted. "Don’t wanna."

"Yeah, well, I don’t wanna deal with a grumpy toddler tomorrow, so you kinda have to," you muttered under your breath, earning a soft laugh from Joe.

"How about this?" Joe offered. "I’ll stay on FaceTime while you get in bed, and I’ll tell you a story, okay?"

Hayes perked up immediately. "A story?"

"Yeah," Joe grinned. "But only if you’re in bed."

Hayes was already wiggling out of your grasp before Joe had even finished his sentence, making a beeline for his room. You sighed in relief, grabbing the monitor from the counter before following behind.

By the time you got to his room, he was already under the covers, clutching his stuffed tiger, eyes bright with anticipation.

"Alright, let’s hear it, Burrow," you said, settling into the rocking chair, phone still in hand.

Joe laughed, then launched into one of Hayes’ favorites—something about a football-playing dinosaur that you were pretty sure Joe had made up on the fly one night, but Hayes had loved it ever since.

It took a few minutes, but eventually, Hayes’ blinks got heavier, and his tiny body started relaxing into the mattress.

By the time Joe reached the end of the story, his voice had dropped to barely above a whisper, and Hayes was out.

"Thank God," you sighed, carefully tucking the blanket around your son before stepping out into the hallway.

Joe was smirking when you looked back at the screen. "See? Easy."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, ‘easy’ because you get to do the fun part. Try dealing with the bath time tantrums before you get cocky."

Joe laughed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I miss you, though. And I miss Hayes."

Your heart clenched. "He misses you, too."

"I’ll be home soon, I promise."

"I know."

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, voice softer now.

"You’re doing such a good job, you know that?"

You felt it—the warmth spreading through your chest, the way your shoulders relaxed at his words.

"Thank you," you murmured. "Now hurry up and win so you can get back home to your biggest fan."

Joe grinned. "I think that’s you."

You huffed out a laugh. "Not even close. That title officially belongs to your tiny clone."

Joe laughed, shaking his head. "Fine. But you’re a close second."

And somehow, that was enough.

--

Joe had barely stepped foot through the door before Hayes came barreling toward him, arms wide, cheeks flushed with excitement.

Joe barely had time to drop his bag before scooping him up. "There’s my boy!" he grinned, pressing a kiss to Hayes’ chubby cheek. "Missed you, bud."

"Missed you too," Hayes said, but before Joe could even savor the moment, Hayes was already wiggling out of his grasp.

Joe blinked in confusion as his son ran right past him and straight to Maisie, who was lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

"AUNT MAISIE!" Hayes shouted, climbing into her lap like she was his long-lost hero.

Maisie barely looked up, smirking. "What’s up, little dude?"

Joe stood there, stunned. Mouth slightly open, arms still mid-air from where he had just been cast aside like a used toy.

You were trying so hard not to laugh.

Maisie shot Joe a cocky look, ruffling Hayes’ curls. "Told you. I’m officially the favorite now."

Joe scoffed. "That’s not possible."

You snorted. "Oh, it’s possible. It happened while you were gone. Apparently, Maisie’s the ‘cool’ one now."

Joe crossed his arms. "I thought I was the cool one."

Maisie let out a dramatic sigh, adjusting her sunglasses (which she was still wearing inside, for some reason). "You had a good run, but the people have spoken."

Joe turned to Hayes, genuinely confused. "Buddy, what about football? What about watching game film with me? What about—?"

"I like Aunt Maisie’s music better," Hayes cut in, matter-of-factly.

Joe looked genuinely offended. "What’s wrong with my music?"

Maisie let out a loud laugh. "Oh my God. You’ve been replaced by Taylor Swift and the Encanto soundtrack."

Joe’s face dropped. "That’s not fair. Encanto has bangers."

"You don’t even know the words to ‘We Don’t Talk About Bruno,’" you pointed out.

Joe gasped, pointing at you accusingly. "You’re enjoying this too much."

"Oh, absolutely," you grinned.

Joe groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "Unbelievable. Gone for one week and I’m completely irrelevant."

Maisie patted his shoulder. "It happens to the best of us, man."

Joe sighed, finally giving in. "Fine. But just so you know, he’s gonna want to play football with me again in, like, two weeks."

Maisie smirked. "We’ll see."

And honestly? You weren’t so sure. Because the way Hayes was currently clinging to Maisie’s side, giggling at whatever TikTok she had just shown him?

Yeah. Joe was gonna have to work really hard to win back his title.

[little-jana]

"Meant to Be"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x wife!reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Brief mention of child abandonment, emotional themes, adoption, foster care

Summary: Spencer and his wife never planned on having kids just yet—but when they find an abandoned baby near the FBI headquarters, everything changes.

a/n: request by anon

The day had started out like any other. You and Spencer walked hand in hand through the streets of D.C., enjoying the crisp morning air before he had to head into work. Being married to an FBI agent meant cherishing moments like these—the quiet ones, the normal ones.

But then, as you passed by a quiet alley near the FBI headquarters, a soft, muffled cry stopped you both in your tracks.

Spencer stiffened beside you. His hand instinctively tightened around yours. "Did you hear that?"

You nodded, scanning the dimly lit space between two buildings. At first, there was nothing but dumpsters and scattered debris. But then, just barely visible near the wall, you saw it—a small baby carrier.

Your heart lurched.

“Spencer…” You whispered, already moving toward it.

He was right beside you as you knelt down. Inside the carrier was a tiny baby, no older than a few months. Their chubby cheeks were flushed pink from the cool morning air, and their big brown eyes blinked up at you in confusion.

A note was tucked beside them.

Spencer grabbed it, his hands trembling slightly as he read aloud. I’m sorry. I can’t take care of him.

That was all. No name, no details. Just a heartbreaking confession.

You swallowed hard, instinctively reaching out. The moment your fingers brushed against the baby’s soft blanket, he let out a tiny whimper, his tiny hands grasping at the air. Without thinking, you scooped him up, holding him close to your chest.

Spencer let out a shaky breath. “We need to call the police.”

You nodded, but your eyes were locked on the baby. He felt so small in your arms, so vulnerable. He had no idea he’d been abandoned—he just wanted warmth, comfort. Love.

Spencer made the call while you rocked the baby gently, whispering soothing words. When he looked up at you, something in his gaze softened.

You didn’t realize it at the time, but that was the moment everything changed.

---

A few hours later

The baby—who the doctors estimated to be around three months old—was in good health despite being left outside in the cold. You and Spencer stayed with him at the hospital, waiting for Child Protective Services to arrive.

You hadn’t put him down once.

Spencer watched you the entire time, his mind whirring. He had always imagined you holding a baby one day, but it was supposed to be later—years later. Yet here you were, cradling this tiny boy like you were meant to be his mother.

And Spencer felt something shift inside him.

“Do we know his name?” you asked the nurse, adjusting the blanket around the baby.

She shook her head. “Nothing was left with him. For now, the social worker is calling him ‘Baby Doe.’”

You frowned, looking down at him. “That doesn’t seem right. He deserves a name.”

Spencer hesitated for only a second before saying, “James.”

You blinked up at him in surprise.

“My mom used to read me The Turn of the Screw by Henry James,” he explained. “I always liked the name.”

You smiled. “James. I like it.”

The baby—James—yawned sleepily against your chest, and something inside Spencer clenched.

He wasn’t ready for kids.

But suddenly, he wasn’t so sure he could imagine letting this one go.

---

A few days later

Spencer came home late from work, exhausted and distracted. The case had been tough, but it wasn’t what was weighing on him.

It was James.

You had spent every spare second checking on him, calling social services, asking about his placement. You hadn’t said it out loud, but Spencer could see it in your eyes.

You wanted to keep him.

And the terrifying part?

Spencer wanted that too.

As soon as he stepped inside, he found you curled up on the couch, your phone clutched in your hands. You looked up at him with an unreadable expression.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, immediately alert.

You took a deep breath. “The social worker called. James’ birth mother doesn’t want him back. He’s being placed in the foster system.”

Spencer’s stomach twisted.

Foster care.

James was so small, so vulnerable. He deserved better than being shuffled between homes, never knowing where he belonged.

The words were out before Spencer could stop them.

“What if we take him?”

Your eyes widened. “Spencer…”

“I know we didn’t plan for this. And I know it’s fast, and crazy, and maybe completely irresponsible. But…” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want him to go into the system. And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering what happened to him. We could do this. We should do this.”

You stared at him, searching his face. “Are you sure?”

Spencer let out a breathless laugh. “No. But when I see you holding him, when I think about him going to strangers instead of us… I know I can’t just walk away.”

Your lips trembled, and Spencer reached for your hands.

“Let’s foster him,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And if—if things go well, maybe one day we can adopt him.”

Tears filled your eyes, and you nodded. “Okay.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, pulling you into his arms. He wasn’t sure what the future held, but one thing was certain.

James was meant to be theirs.

---

Six months later

James had turned your world upside down.

Sleepless nights, endless bottles, diaper changes—it was nothing like the quiet, controlled life Spencer had envisioned. But he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Because now, his days started with James’ giggles and ended with you rocking him to sleep.

Because every time James reached for Spencer with his chubby little hands, his heart ached in the best way.

Because Spencer had thought he wasn’t ready to be a father.

But he was.

And as he stood in the doorway, watching you hum softly as you cradled James against your chest, Spencer knew he had never been more certain of anything in his life.

He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you from behind, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“You were right,” he murmured.

You turned your head slightly, smiling. “About what?”

Spencer rested his chin on your shoulder, watching James sleep.

“About us being ready.” He swallowed thickly. “About him being ours.”

You reached up, lacing your fingers with his. “We should make it official, then.”

Spencer’s breath caught. “You mean…?”

“Let’s adopt him.”

A slow, disbelieving smile spread across his face. “Yeah?”

You turned in his arms, resting your forehead against his. “Yeah.”

Spencer kissed you then, slow and deep, pouring everything he felt into it.

James might not have been in their plans.

But he had been in their hearts all along.

And now, he was home.

[voids-ideas]

And I feel the necessity to mention that the idea of removing someone from society (something that you can only do successfully by killing them) it's such a dangerous idea. Identifying what situations where abuse it's difficult, at least if you try to do it as a society/government. There would always be people claiming something it's abuse that it's the identity of another person and it's not intrinsically harmful. You can see that with people claiming the gender identity of someone it's abuse, or the religion

Yes, you can just say that people are incorrect and "remove" from society only the ones you think are abusers, but they will be trying to kill those people always, because they think the existence of them it's harmful. And from time to time, they WILL take control and remove them from society. Because society said removing abusers it's a proper response. And they see them as abusers

Your opinion doesn't matter, if you think they are abusers or not doesn't matter, because you support that removing abusers it's correct, so if your abusers are removed, why not theirs?

The only way you can ensure innocent people aren't remove from society, it's making impossible to remove people from society

But what do we do with the bad people?

First of all, prevention. The people who already made bad decision are here, yes. But you can do things to prevent the ones that would come out in the future. Look around, why do people end up being abusers? Fix that. You're not going to prevent all abusers, but you will prevent some of them

Second. What do we do with the abusers that already exist? If they want help to do better, they should receive help. I'm not saying you should help them, I'm saying society. The only thing you need to do in that it's not interfering in the process. Some abusers will do better. Others not.

What do we do with the ones that after all that, still exist? Prevention. I'm not an expert in this ideology and i haven't read others people's ideas, but i think you should make sure they don't harm people again without taking away their rights

If you don't think abusers deserve rights, if you think human rights are something you can stop having (wtf my guy. How do you stop being human???), then don't do it for them. Do it for you, because eventually, there's going to be someone that it's going to think something completely harmless about you it's an attack to them, and they will try to treat you as an abuser, because they believe you are one. And they will use the methods to treat abusers society has, the ones you supported. The ones about removing them from society.

I don't blame you if you believe an abuser should suffer for their actions as a cosmic balance or something, but you need to understand that society doesn't follow your specifics desires, it follows the desires of the group in control, and you need to be aware of the big possibilities of the group in control not liking you, and the harm that can come from thinking society should follow the desires of one specific person. The probability of that person being you are small, and the probability of that person liking you are... idk, ask yourself. Does your desire for a person to suffer retribution for their actions compensate the risk of you (or a loved one) suffering those same retributions? Would you make possible for innocent people to suffer those retributions, just to make sure the people that wronged you suffer them?

Me, personally, would prefer that you go looking for that balance in your own free time, first, because i think a lot of people wouldn't, and second, because i don't think society has to serve your specifics desires of revenge.

Do you want society to prevent harm to you, or do you prefer society to punish the ones that harmed you?

If you want the second, do you think that helps prevent harm? I hope you don't, because it doesn't. You're not preventing harm by wanting the second option, you need to know that. Yes, you're completely free to want that but you need to know your desire for revenge doesn't help the people that will suffer harm in the future

the thing is, if your younger self was a bigot or an abuser, u can't make people forgive you. but you still gotta forgive yourself, like that's non-negotiable, dude. that happens before u can even ask the question of earning forgiveness from anyone lese

[mwahsol]

I see you

Description: You are obvious about your feelings towards her. Recently her most recent “fling” dumps her claiming that all she can talk about is you, every topic you are somehow in some way mentioned. Paige being confused doesn't understand what she's talking about, you are just her friend right? The more she thinks about it, the more she starts questioning your “friendship.” One night while hanging out with your guys teammates everything comes crashing down. 

Since tomorrow is my birthday I've decided to be nice and come back from the dead :) also, WHY IS IT SO HARD TO HAVE MOTIVATION TO WRITE EVEN THOUGH I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS. Anyways enjoy babe.....

Since the first time you had laid your eyes upon her, you knew you would fall in love with her. How could you not love her, when you first got recruited you were nervous that you wouldn't get along with the team seeing as how you were naturally more reserved but as soon as you entered that gym Paige instantly welcomed you with open arms. She broke down all of your walls and you slowly but surely became closer with everyone, she brought you out of your shell. Whenever you needed a partner during practice she was instantly at your side touching you in some way showing her eagerness to play with you, right by your side. When she couldn't sleep she would beeline to your room, she would crawl right in next to you on your bed seeing if you wanted to go somewhere with her or wanted to keep sleeping. To you it didn't matter what you did, you just wanted to be with her, so if she wanted to go shoot around at 2 am or sleep next to you and listen to your podcasts with you, without a doubt, you would do it. At first, you genuinely believed that this was how best friends were, you just loved her. After your first year, you slowly started to realize that you fell in love with Paige Bueckers. Maybe she could love you too, right?

After three years on the team and two years being in love with her, you started dropping hints throughout of your feelings but she never noticed. You watched her hold others the way you would dream of being held by her, you saw how she would wrap her hands around their waists, how she would lean down to whisper into their ears about how beautiful they looked that night. How could she not notice that you spent hours getting ready to feel pretty for yourself but a part of you wanted Paige to tell you that she thought you looked beautiful. All of the girls she would hold always seemed completely different to you, you would compare yourself to them. You couldn't be mad though they weren't at fault, how could they have known that you would give anything for Paige to look at you how she looked at them? Selfishly you would always wonder why them. Why not you?

You watched her kiss them. Paige has never been shy about affection, so to her kissing girls while her teammates were near has never been a problem. Unfortunately, you always seemed to look at her when she was kissing them like her life depended on them. The way she would bring their hips near hers, her hands holding their jaws gently, how she would smile into their kiss knowing they enjoyed it. You saw it all. You could only watch with envy in your eyes, you prayed countless times that she would kiss you like you were oxygen. As soon as you saw their kiss you would turn away and go to one of your teammates and cry to them. They all knew about your love for the blue-eyed blonde, they could all see how you looked at her like she hung the constellations in the sky, they saw all the tears you would shed for her, they saw everything Paige didn't. How could they see if but she just didn't.

All you could do was watch as Paige would run around the door asking everyone if her outfit was good enough for a date, she always comes to you first. Why does she have to torture you more. Why does she have to taunt you. In all fairness, she didn't know that every time she would come and excitedly tell you about how she asked a girl out on a date, it would eat you alive. You felt like you couldn't breathe every time you imagined what their date was like. Would it be how you always envisioned your dates with her? If you told her you loved her would it change anything? Would she drop everything and tell you she has been in love with you too?

As the clock shows 2:16 am, you get up giving up on trying to go to bed. Sliping into your bunny slippers you walk to Azzi’s room, you know she's most likely asleep but maybe she's up watching a Netflix show or something. To your luck you're right.

“Hey bun, couldn't sleep?” She asks knowing why but she'll let you rant.

“Nope my brain won't shut off,” you say as you take off your slippers to climb into bed with her. Slipping yourself into her side, making her arm drape over your shoulders while you hug her midsection you can hear her hum.

“Why? Wanna talk about it?” If Azzi was honest with herself she was shocked Paige hadn't noticed that you have worshiped the ground she walks on.

“Just thinking about all the stuff with P.” Since she left for her date at 9 it's been all you could think about, you will end up driving yourself crazy by how much you think about her on dates that aren't with you.

“You know all that thinking will make your head even bigger than it already is,” she giggles as you look at her with fake offense and shove her gently but when you both stop laughing she softly says, “Bun you both are some of my closest friends but maybe you should try out dating too, see what's out there.”

Her words echo through your head, since you started playing at Uconn you never really dated. Your main focus has always been playing and your academics, then the realization of your feelings for your blond teammate happened and that shut the door of dating for you. You never even thought about dating anyone that wasn't Paige, you knew no matter who it was they wouldn't compare. Their laugh wouldn't be hers, the way their hands would touch you wouldn't be the warm hands of the blue-eyed player, their lips wouldn’t be the ones you dreamt about, they wouldn't be Paige. It wouldn't be fair to give someone else hope of a future with you when your future slept right next to you most nights. Your heart would never be theirs, your heart will be on the court with her.

“I don't know if I could even act like I could see something with them,” when Azzi hears the sadness in your voice she can't help but want to call Paige and yell at her about how blind she is. “You don't have to see it anymore than as a casual date, find someone you think is cute then go for it, or next time someone asks you say yes.”

When you go to say that wouldn't know where to start she cuts you off. “And don't you dare say you don't know who because I've seen multiple boys and girls ask you out but you always say no. Just go on one then see how you feel about it bun.” She says teasing but also encouraging you to get outside of your bubble a bit, maybe you'll find a way to be ok with Paige not reciprocating your feelings. Maybe.

“You guys won't ever let the bun name go huh?” You ask hoping to change the subject.

“As long as you wear those slippers I don't think so, they're cute though,” she hopes you give it some thought though, she and everyone hate seeing you heartbroken. Maybe just maybe this way Paige could see what everyone else sees.

While you fall asleep you can't help but think that maybe it's a good idea.

By the time Paige gets home it's almost 4 am. Her heads was killing her from all the arguing she and her most recent “fling” were having. She wanted to come home earlier but as soon as she heard your name be brought up negatively she instantly started arguing till her throat was sore. As she unlocked the front door she knew she wanted to see you, when she opened your door and saw your empty bed her heart stopped. Where did you go? As she pulls out her phone to check Life360 she sees that your location is here at the dorm.

“She's sleeping in my bed.” Paige flinches not expecting anyone else to be awake much less Azzi.

“Why?” She doesn't know why but knowing that you're not in your bed makes her uneasy, but you being in someone else's bed that isn't hers makes her skin crawl. Why? She's never had a problem with it before? It could be that even when you would sleep in someone else's bed besides hers she would still be laying next to you bothering whoever's bed you both lay on. No that couldn't be it, right? She wasn't jealous.

“Couldn't sleep.” Azzi knows the blonde like the back of her hand. Why couldn't Paige figure out that she was in love with you too.

Whenever Paige held someone she almost had to force herself to. The feeling of them close to her made her feel wrong but she took it as maybe she lost feeling for them so she would cut them off, find someone else, and the cycle repeated. Anytime she would compliment the girls she would be seeing she would only compliment things that reminded her of you. When she would kiss them she would allow herself to pretend they were you, desperately pulling them into her grasping at the image of you being the one she was kissing instead, feeling herself smile at the daydream of you. When she would feel eyes on her she would pull away from the kiss seeing you walking towards the team, why did her heart hurt, why did she feel guilty that you saw her kissing someone? She's never had a problem kissing anyone in front of her team but when you would look all she wanted to do was wipe her lips and try to explain things to you, but explain what, you both were friends. When she would dress up for dates she would come to you first wanting to hear your opinion on how she looked, she would always seek approval from you first. But you were both just friends, right? Right. She's just overthinking.

“Oh ok, I'll just go to bed then.” With a small nod, Paige turns to go to her room until Azzi opens her mouth.

“Why were you looking for her?” Come on P, say something Azzi can't help but want to get a reaction out of her so maybe she could also see how in love she is with you. Hoping to push her best friend to see her true feelings maybe.

“Just wanted to check up on her you know,” Paige can't see it, yet.

“Ok see you in the morning P,” Azzi says a bit disappointed but knowing Paige will think about it. “Mhm, nigh Az.”

Since that encounter with Azzi, Paige has noticed that you slowly started distancing yourself from her. Maybe she was overthinking but what other explanation could there be? At practice, things seemed tense. You would partner up with Aubrey or anyone else before she could even make her way to you. When she would try to come into bed with you she started noticing that you weren't home when you usually would be in bed. Sometimes she would notice that you would come home far later than you ever have, where were you spending your time? At times she would see you right as you were leaving but you were always dressed up. In heals? Makeup and hair done almost always. You’ve always been beautiful to her no matter if you were dripping in sweat or in a fancy dress but she knows you, you don't get dressed up unless you are going out with the team, and you don't go out much enjoying being home and relaxing after practice, she couldn't find any reasons as to why you were almost every night out.

Why didn't you talk to her? Why wouldn't you even glance at her? Why does her heat physically feel like it's breaking when she thinks of you? And why did she hear you talking to a girl over the phone one day as you were getting ready? Why did she ask you if you were almost done because she was outside? Why?

Paige was going crazy without answers. She was going crazy without you.

One night the team decided to have a movie night and order a bunch of junk food to relax and spend time together. Feeling a bit guilty that you already had plans with a girl you were casually seeing you told all the girls you wouldn't be there but you would make it up to them, you told all except one. Paige, you physically couldn't bring yourself to tell her about your date. You know even after all of your dates and trying to expand outside of your friendships you were right, no one amounted to Paige. No one held a candle to her. You felt stupid that you kept distancing yourself when all you wanted was to be next to her again. You couldn't keep watching her anymore, you didn't have it in you to watch her give everything you've ever wanted from her to others. So when practice ended you rushed home to get ready to go out.

As all of the girls were setting up and bringing in the food Paige couldn't help but notice that you were missing. Looking around from her spot on the couch, next to her was your spot she had been saving it hoping that maybe tonight she could get you to sit next to her, all of the girls started to get on the couch and/or their place on the floor. She had almost argued with Jana as she had sat in “your” spot. Seeing as you hadn't told Paige about your plans, KK opens her mouth ready to tell her that you weren't joining but as you come out of your room all dressed up in a dark purple mini dress, a black pair of heals, silver jewelry stacked on your arms and neck, your skin glowing with body glitter, your hair curled, and makeup that complimented your features she feels the world stop. You looked enchanting. If she were standing up she's sure that she would fall to her knees right then and there. She couldn't help but wonder why you were dressed up though, you were all staying in no?

All of your teammates freak out jumping on you and telling you how pretty you look. “Girl oh my give me a spin,” Nike hypes you up holding your arm up and letting you give them all a 360. “Y/n you know I'm single currently,” Kayla jokingly flirts back. “Oh my, bun you look gorgeous,” Azzi adds knowing this might wake Paige up. As the rest of the girls gush over you Paige can't seem to get up, she was in a trance as soon as she saw you. You in her favorite color might be one of the most beautiful things she has ever seen in her entire life.

“Ok ok guys I need to head out, they're waiting for me downstairs,” you let out laughing at their antics.

You're leaving?

“Bye guys I'll try to be home soon,” as the door shuts Paige can feel herself go numb.

“Where is she going?” She asks scared that she might know the answer. They can all see her shut down, they can't help but feel guilty for her but also happy for you that you're trying new things. No one has the heart to tell her the truth until Azzi looks at her and tells her the hard truth, “She's going on a date.”

When those words leave Aizz’s mouth she feels like she's about to throw up. Is it true? All those times she saw you dressed up you were going to see someone? She feels like she can't breathe but she has to look, she has to look at their faces to see if it's true. As her head rises to look at them they can all see the tears in her eyes, almost like instant deja vu they see your eyes looking back at them. They have been here before but with a different teammate crying over the other. It's almost poetic how similar your eyes seem when you cry over each other in front of them.

“P why are you crying?” KK is the one to ask to test out if her friend finally understands her feelings for you. They knew that they couldn't tell her, she's too stubborn to listen to them, she had to be the one to realize her feelings.

Paige finally understood.

“She won't even look at me. When I walk into her room and she's not there I lay in her bed hoping to catch her when she comes back. She won't even play with me. I can hear her talking to someone but I don't want it to be someone she is seeing. I don't understand what I did to make her mad at me,” as she rambled on Azzi couldn't help but feel a bit responsible but also not. She gave you unbiased advice, she wouldn't take it back.

“Paige that night I caught you looking for her, why did you come home late? Why was she the first person you looked for,” come on Paige see what's right in front of you they all think.

Paige can't stop the tears from coming. She knows her voice will come out shaky but it's now or never, “I went out with that girl from the soccer team and I thought the date was going great till we went back to watch a movie at hers and she blew up. She stalked yelling at me that the whole night I kept talking about Y/n and how at first she thought it was sweet that I had a close friendship with her but after talking about her only, that I act like I'm in love with her. At first I honestly just planned to walk out but then she started insulting her and I just couldn't keep my mouth shut, how could she talk badly about her? She didn't even do anything wrong,” while the team listened to Paige they gave each other a look knowing that she does talk about you any chance she gets. How did she still not see it?

“And when I got home I just wanted to sleep with her but she wasn't there, I started to panic but I saw that her location was still here then Az said that she was with her and all I could do was go to my bed.” She explains not knowing what's going on.

“Paige can you really not see it?” Ice asks trying to see if it finally clicks for the blonde.

“What?” Why are they all looking at her like she should know something. Could it be? No right? If she says the words. If she asks, she can't take it back. Maybe just maybe.

All of your memories together float through her brain. Your eyes that shine like stars when you look at her, your hair that smells like coconut from your shampoo, you're eyelashes that lay over your cheeks as you sleep, your nose that gets red when you get cold, your lips that she catches herself staring at thinking about what it would be like to feel them on hers, your laugh that is like music to her ears, your voice that is like a siren song to her, your hands that fit in hers perfectly, your chest that she lays her head on to hear your heartbeat, your legs that wrap around her when she picks you up, every single thing about you she worships. Her waking you up at 2 am to go hoop with her and you not even thinking twice before getting dressed, late night ice cream when you both just want to be together, you both saving each other seats never wanting to be too far apart, the dumb bunny slippers that she got you that you now rarely take off, the way you both climb into each other's beds and just lay together. You're everything, you are what she looks forward to every day, you waking her up to pancakes with coffee, her watching your angelic face while you sleep. Paige Madison Bueckers is in love with you, a girl who is on a date with someone else in her favorite color.

“I love her, I’m in love with her,” she mumbles out in awe.

“Yeah, you are,” Kayla states what everyone is thinking, but what will she do now.

“Does she love me?” Paige asks afraid of the answer.

“You're kidding right?” KK asks shocked that she's even asking.

“What?”

“Paige that girl has loved you for years,” she can feel herself lose her breath. What? There's no way that's true right? Please tell her that she heard wrong.

“Everyone could see it but you.” No no why didn't she see it sooner. “Why didn't she say anything?” She asks not knowing if she hopes it's a cruel prank or if she wants the confirmation that you love her.

“Did she have to? She made it pretty clear to you.” What.

“I mean do you see her waking anyone else with pancakes?” But you're always nice.

“Much less bring it to us in our beds.” You had sleepovers together that's why. Right?

“She sleeps with you almost all the time, the only times she hasn't was when you were with another girl.” Shit.

“You don't see her matching outfits with anyone else do you?” She always did love it when you would match colors, it made her feel like she had a claim over you even if it was just for the night.

“P whenever you would kiss someone or held their hand she would come to us crying. I don't think she would cry just because.” She made you cry, all those times she saw you walking away you had tears in your eyes.

“What do I do?” There has to be a chance right. She can't let you go now that she knows you've been there all along.

“I don't know.” What.

“What do you mean?” Please she needs something.

“Well P she kinda keeps going to these dates to get over you.” No. She's so close she can't just not try.

“I have to give it a shot, please.” Give me something, anything. Is all she can keep thinking hoping for any shot no matter how small.

“Well I know she's at that restaurant that opened up by the pizza place, Lavie or something like that,” Jana says remembering you telling her before practice when you asked her for her opinion on your outfit.

When she hears the name her movements are almost like she's in a trance, her only thought is to get to you as soon as she can. She stands up not caring if she's in her pajama pants, glasses that she rarely wears outside, her wavy hair in her natural state, grey nike tech sweater, and gets her keys from the dining table. They all watch her leave with encouraging smiles on their faces knowing that you two will end up together. They've all watched you fall in love and everyone even on the staff knows that you both need each other just to exist.

While you and your date are at the restaurant you can help but feel sick to your stomach. You know she knows you're pretending she's someone else. You allow yourself to envision her as Paige perhaps this is the closest you'll get to her. Why can't you just let her go. She haunts you. The way she looked at you when you came into the living room is embedded into your brain.

“I'm sorry to take you away from her tonight,” Hayley says knowing the team had plans tonight.

Your head lifts quickly looking at her for answers. “I know you all had plans,” she explains a bit while eating her salmon.

“No it's ok I enjoy getting out,” you reassure her since it was your choice that you went out not liking the idea of being near Paige for a long time. You try your best to keep the distance you've created.

“Do you miss her?” What? There is no way she knew right?

“Y/n I've seen the way you look at her. If I'm honest I'm also trying to get over someone, I see the way you look through me basically and I’m not mad really. I'm pretending you're someone else too.” Hayley confesses. You let out a breath of relief seeing as you both are just two people in love with another trying to find comfort in each other.

“No luck for you ether?” You ask her hoping at least one of you has some luck in getting over your situations. “Nah but I'm not too mad at it, I enjoy spending time with you.” She grins at you showing that she's being sincere. “I enjoy my time with you too.” As you continue your dinner the weight of this being a “date” wearing off you both start genuinely talking like friends would.

Paige gets to the restaurant as quickly as she can, she's pretty sure she might've broken some laws but for you, she’d break all of them to get to you. As she sits in her car for a second she collects her thoughts, was she really about to go in there and steal you away? Yes. The thought of you in there with someone who isn't her is burning her skin. When she sees you laughing through the window in the front she feels herself get hot. Screw it. She gets out of her car almost too quickly that she almost stumbles out. Walking up to the establishment intimidated her a bit, it's a nice place and here she comes in her pajamas to get you. It's all worth it for you. When she opens the door she can see the hostess opening her mouth to ask her if she's lost but she marches to your table nearby determined to get you.

Since your back is turned to her Hayle sees her before you do but you sense Paige before she even entered the restaurant, not wanting to believe your sensation you ignore it.

“Hey, I think one of us might just have some luck.”

“What?”

Paige stops right next to your table panting. You stare at her wide-eyed in shock. What is she doing here?

“I need to talk to you.” She states, her eyes pleading with you to come with her.

“I'm kind of in the middle of some-”

“Go, I'll be ok. Text me how it goes.” Haley blurts out wanting one of you to get your happy ending.

As soon as Paige hears the words she grabs you almost pulling you up and rushing you both out of there. She's too fast, you're heal-covered feet can hardly keep up.

“Paige wait I'm in heals. I'm going to trips wait up.” When the words leave your mouth she instantly stops and turns to you as you regain your balance. As you straighten up you let out a yelp not expecting her to pick you up bride-style and walk you both to her car. You hear the car unlock and she opens the passenger door while still holding you and puts you inside gently making sure you ok before she shuts the door and goes to the driver side.

You turn to look at her with shock and are about to ask her what does she think she's doing but she beats you to it. Turning to face you she looks into your eyes directly and says the five words you've been dying to hear.

“I’m in love with you Y/n” You feel the world stop when she says that. Are you awake right now? Was this a cruel dream?

“Don't say that,” you let out feeling your eyes start to tear up and your throat tightening.

“I love you Y/n.”She says determined to fight for you. She's not letting you go unless you truly want her to.

“Paige you're being mean, stop it please I can't take it.” How could she? How could she mock you? You turn to look away from her not being able to look at her while she lied to you. While trying to win your gaze, you feel her hands. The hands you've craved are turning your face to her slowly wiping your tears. While you let yourself have this one moment with her she starts speaking knowing that you need to hear from her again that she loves you.

“Y/n/n I'm so unbelievably in love with you and I didn't even realize it till I saw you walk out of the dorm. I know you may not want to hear this but whenever I would kiss other girls I would imagine that they were you, when I would hold them I thought about you, all of the things I've done with others I would envision you. I know it's wrong but I was such a fool, it has always been you. You're it for me bun. If I can't have you in this lifetime I pray I get to have you in the next and every after that. We were made for each other. Anytime I listen to Jeff Buckley I instantly think of you. If I could I really would give all my blood for your sweet laughter. I could write novels of you, every single thing about you I could write thousands of pages for. Anytime I hold you I never want to hurt you, I want to take care of you. I want to show you that I can love you gently and purely. When it comes to you I'm all in, everything is yours. Whatever you want I'll do, I'll give it all to you only please baby. Let me worship you in every way possible. I'm all yours, my mind, my body, my heart, my soul, everything was made for you. Give me a chance, let me show you. I can't handle the thought of you with someone else. I don't want to be without you.” During her confession, she rested her forehead against yours. Her finger still wiping the new tears that appeared as her speech went on. Your sweet girl.

“I've loved you for two years maybe even longer. I would watch you with them, my skin felt like it was being peeled off, my heart would stop when I would see you.” You let out not being able to hold it in. Pulling away to look at her you see she started crying too.

“I know I'm sorry baby. Please let me love you, I may not deserve it but I need it. Please.” Her eyes filled with more tears how could you say no. How could you say no to everything you've been hoping for.

“I love you, Paige. I’d give up anything to be with you, you are everything I've wanted for so long. I physically crave you. Even though I didn't say it out loud I tried to show you. I can't blame you completely, I should've said something but I was too scared of losing you.” You say laughing a bit at how much you're both crying. It's your turn to wipe her tears away. Her skin under your fingers feels like you were meant to hold her.

“I love you too. I should've realized sooner. We're both so stupid.” She replies while laughing a bit. You both couldn't stay mad at the other. As she admires you while you're trying to make sure her face is dry all she can do is think about kissing you.

“Kiss me,” did she hear you right? By the look on your face, she can tell you need her as much as she does. The kiss felt even better than you both had imagined, you could taste her tears and vanilla chapstick, she could taste your tears and strawberry lipgloss. She grabs your jaw while her other hand grasps at your waist pulling you a bit over the console. One of your hands is on her shoulder while the other is in her hair. As the kiss goes on it gets hungrier, pulling away to catch your breath you stare at each other.

‘How beautiful,’ runs through both of your heads.

“I love you.” Paige can't help but say it as she pecks you all over your face, repeating it between kisses.

Giggling you can't help but grab her face and peck her on the lips, “I love you too.”

As you both look at each other you can't help but crave something.

“Can we go get ice cream?” You ask not being able to hold it in anymore.

“Are you serious?” She asks laughing in amusement. While you get back into your seat properly buckling your seatbelt you turn to her and smile, “Always.”

“Does this could as my first girlfriend duty?” She asks grinning at the title she's given herself as your girlfriend. Yours.

“Yes so please love let's go, I need a sweet treat.” You flutter your eyelashes at her knowing that'll get her. Even though she would've done it without she smiles seeing as how you agreed that she was yours.

“Can't let my baby go with her ice cream,” she states as she puts the car into drive then moves to grab your hand in your lap, wanting to hold you in some way.

“Aw such a sweet girlfriend I have,” you say as you bring up her hand to your lips giving it a kiss while looking at her grinning so hard your face hurts.

“Yes ma'am, although I think you're sweeter,” you can see her blush from your kiss on her hand. Any little touch you give her makes you giddy.

“I love you, Paige.”

“I love you more Y/n.”

“Not possible.”

“Possible only for you.”

As you both get ice cream and watch the stars you both just feel at peace knowing you were with the person that was handmade for you. Made for each other in every way possible, tied together, sown together, invisible string. Right in front of each other all along.

D1 yearner... BUT anyways I need to lock in and write because the way my drafts and prompts look...... I hope you enjoyed this <33333

Kiss the sun🌞

[kiszjuli]

YOU WIN .ᐟ

✸ varsity!jaemin x fem!reader | genre. fluff. | w.c. 2.1k | ♡

↳ synopsis. in which jaemin has been pining after you and makes you a deal. if he wins the valentine’s day basketball game, you have to go out with him. you agreed, but you knew you didn’t like him like that. at least that’s what’s you’ve been telling yourself.

↳ playlist. pov - ariana grande. universe (let’s play ball) - nct dream. i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys call me baby - exo. talk saxy - riize. adore you - harry styles.

the large, crowed gym boomed with the sounds of sneakers squeaking against polished floors and the faint echo of chatter and commentary bouncing off the walls. valentine’s day was tomorrow, and with it came the school’s annual basketball game—a game everyone seemed to love, whether it was purely for the game itself, or the romance that seemed to come with it. for you, though, it was just another day behind the camera, documenting the campus chaos for the yearbook.

through your camera, you’d captured just about everything this year: pep rallies, club meetings, quiet moments in the library, and even pictures of people doing the simplest things. and of course, na jaemin. somehow, he was everywhere. whether he was on the court, joking with friends, or flashing a charming grin at you, jaemin had an uncanny ability to find your camera—and you hated how often you found yourself keeping the photos he was in.

you’d spent the last semester convincing yourself it didn’t mean anything. he was just one of the many faces in the crowd, one of the players you documented out of habit. but jaemin thought very different.

about a week ago, he’d found you crouched on the sidelines during practice. you fiddled with your lens, as he walks up and proposed his idea to you. “if i win the valentine’s day game,” he’d said, leaning casually against the bleachers, and looking down at you, “you have to go out with me.”

at that, you almost dropped your camera. “what?”

“come on, pretty girl, you heard me.” his grin had been infuriating, as always. before you could think to respond, he added, “i’m. a deal’s a deal.”

“and if you don’t?” you piped.

"i don't always win, but i promise you i will this time.” he responded with a confident tone.

the idea was ridiculous. you clearly didn’t even like jaemin like that—or at least, that’s what you’d been trying to convince yourself of.

although you found your heart beating a little quicker when he was around, eyes lighting up a bit when he walked in the same room, laughing slightly harder at his jokes-it was all meaningless. right?

so, motivated by your persistence to prove your subconscious wrong, you’d agreed and now, as the stands filled quickly with students, and your camera in your lap, you glanced around not being able to shake the feeling that this wasn’t going to end you you expected.

—

despite yourself, because of the infectious crowd, you felt the pre-game thrill in your chest. you adjusted some things on your camera, getting it ready for when you needed it. aiming it in front of you you changed some of the setting, while looking through the lens. then you had noticed that he was directly in the middle; staring your way. you lowered the camera, looking at him straight on. that stupid smirk and casually spun a basketball in his middle finger. show off. his coach called the team for a quick team talk, and of course he didn’t leave without throwing a wink at you.

you fought the urge to roll your eyes but couldn’t deny the small flutter you felt in your stomach.

the gym fell to a hush as the referee walked to the middle of the court, the basketball in hand. both teams on either of his sides, waiting in anticipation. you got your camera ready for the shot, eyes trained on the scene in front of you, but you felt the weight of someone else’s gaze.

jaemin.

he stood at the center, opposite the other team’s strongest member, his attitude relaxed but ready. something about his calm and confident demeanor told you that he already knew how the game would end. like he was playing with certainty, and not hope.

seconds later, the whistle blew, the ball was thrown into the air.

jaemin reacted instantly, leaping towards it. his body stretched effortlessly to the ball, fingers grazing it first—the perfect tip-off. just like that the gym erupted in cheers and the game begun.

from behind the camera, you followed the motions of the players. shoes squeaked against the polished wood, the sharp bounce of the ball echoed through the gym. jaemin was moving like he was made for this, weaving through players with an ease. his focus was intense, completely imo in the game, but every now and then his eyes would flicker to you.

they were subtle glances, quick enough that no else would would have caught it. but you did, and he knew that.

and you hated that your stomach flipped every time it happened.

—

later in the game, halfway into the second quarter, jaemin caught a pass near the three-point line, and without hesitation, he launched the ball toward the hoop. The form was perfect, the kind of shot that sent the crowd to their feet before it even touched the net. and of course, you got the perfect picture of him in action, feet lifted at least a foot off the ground.

the cheers that followed were deafening. jaemin didn’t celebrate, he didn’t even look surprised. he just turned on his heels and jogged back to defense with that same cocky smirk, and looked directly at you.

you lowered your camera, heartbeat hammering against your ribs.

—

the fourth quarter had rolled around, and the gym was like a madhouse. the scoreboard glowing with mirrored numbers. 76-76. the game had been the kind that had the entire crowd on the edge of their seats constantly. every dribble, every pass, every shoot felt like it carried the weight of the entire game. and at the center of it all—na jaemin.

but he was also exhausted. Sweat clung to his skin, dampening his hair. his cheeks were flushed, and his chest heaved.

the rest of the team was just as worn out, struggling to keep up as the opposing team tried to pushed harder, desperate to steal the lead. jaemin had been their anchor, but the slight lag in his step was noticeable.

and yet, every time he looked up at the stands to you, there was still that unwavering determination. almost as if it pushed him harder; to keep his drive high.

you weren’t sure how long you had been holding your breath when the game reached the final full minute. the rival team had the ball, moving with quick, calculated passes, trying to run down the clock. the team knew what they were aiming for—a last-second shot, the buzzer-beater that would end it all.

jaemin wasn’t about to let that happen.

in a fraction of a second, he darted forward, intercepting a pass with a speed that seemed impossible given how drained he had to be by now. the crowd gasped, watching with intense focus, defenders right on his heels. you didn’t even realize you were standing until your knees bumped against the scorer’s table, camera still clutched tightly in your hands.

the timer was ticking down—

ten seconds left.

he crossed the three-point line. his teammates shouted, signaling for a pass, but he didn’t even glance their way, focused on his own play.

seven seconds.

an opposing player lunged at him, trying to block him. failing, jaemin spun around him, keeping the ball in his possession.

four seconds.

he took the shot running out of time.

the ball left his fingertips, spiraling toward the hoop just as the final buzzer blared through the gym.

time seemed to slow, everyone’s heads following the ball.

the ball traced the rim once—twice—before finally sinking through the net.

the gym erupted with cheers and yells and claps.

the student section stormed the court, screams of victory bouncing off the walls. the team tackled jaemin in celebration, hands ruffling his hair, hitting him on the back, yelling his name.

but jaemin wasn’t paying attention to them.

his eyes were locked on yours, with an ‘i told you so’ look.

and you knew.

this wasn’t just a win, it was his win.

and you were his prize.

—

jaemin had done it. he’d won the game, meaning he’d also won the bet.

as you sat at the bottom of the bleachers, still surrounded but the buzzing nature of the gym, you weren’t sure scared you more—the fact that he actually pulled it off, or the fact that you secretly wanted him to.

but before you could process it any further, a familiar figure broke through the heavy crowd.

jaemin. hot, sweaty, completely breathless.

his jersey clung to his skin, strands of damp hair falling over his forehead, cheeks flushed even more. his eyes were sharp, focused and locked onto you. he didn’t stop until he was right in front of you

your breath caught in your throat.

jaemin tilted his head, a breathless grin tugging at his lips. “so…” he ran a hand through his damp hair, the pieces falling right back. his chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths. “about our little deal.”

you swallowed hard.

your mind scrambled trying to find an excuse, something to get out of this, but every word died before it could reach your tongue. the truth was, no matter how much you had tried to convince yourself otherwise, you wanted this. wanted him.

jaemin must have noticed the mix of hesitation in your expression because his smirk widened, a teasing glint in his eyes. he leaned in just enough for you to catch the faint scent of sweat and cologne, his voice dropping to something softer, more dangerous.

“you’re not gonna back out on me, are you, pretty girl?”

something about the way he said it, made your breath hitch. the way he looked at you. like he already knew he had won more than the game and bet. you couldn’t form a proper response.

“uh..”

jaemin let out a quiet chuckle, gaze flickering to your lips for a second before meeting your eyes again. “guess that means i’ll pick you up at seven.”

and just like that he turned around back to the court, leaving you standing there with your racing heart.

oh, you were screwed.

—

you weren’t nervous, definitely not.

at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as you checked your reflection for what had to be the tenth time in the last five minutes. it wasn’t even a real date. just the result of a stupid bet.

and yet, here you were, doing your last touches.

a sharp knock on your dorm door made you jolt, heart leaping into your throat. you took a deep breath before opening it, only to find jaemin leaning casually against the frame, looking criminally hot.

his sweaty jersey and damp hair from earlier was gone, now replaced in a white tee, covered by a black jean jacket and matched black jeans. his usual charm fully present. his cologne was soft but warm, dangerously enticing. and they way he had that signature smirk, he knew exactly what you were thinking.

jaemin’s eyes raked over you, picking out every detail. he let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “damn,” he leaned in. little. “if i knew you’d clean up this nice, i would’ve made the bet a long time ago,”

you rolled your eyes trying to ignore the quickened pace of your heart. “are you gonna flirt all night or are we gonna leave?”

he chuckled, stepping from the doorframe, gesturing his arm out of the building. “both. definitely both.”

with a dramatic sigh, you stepped out and locked the door behind you. as you followed him to his car, you realized something—this felt like a real date. nothing forced, not awkward, not something you were being dragged into. interesting.

—

jaemin ended up taking you to a tucked away, late-night café, the kind with dim lighting and cozy booths. it was quieter than you expected, more intimate, which he probably planned.

as soon as you sat down in the booth, jaemin leaned forward, eyes fixed on you with that same infuriating smirk. “so, be honest,” he said, tapping his fingers against the table. “how long have you been secretly in love with me?”

his words caught you off guard. “excuse me?”

he grinned. “i mean, you did agree to this pretty quickly.”

you scoffed. “it was a bet.”

“sure.” he nodded slowly, like he wasn’t the one who came up with it. “and yet, here you are. looking beautiful, by the way,”

you rolled your eyes, ignoring the warmth creeping up your cheeks. “do you flirt with everyone like this?”

jaemin tilted his head, pretending to think. “only you.”

your stomach flipped, but you forced yourself to glare. “unbelievable.”

he laughed, leaning back. “better get used to it, pretty girl. you’re my valentine this year,” ‘and hopefully forever’ he thought to himself.

you smiled shaking your head.

the worst part? you weren’t even mad about it. in fact, you couldn’t form see yourself going out with him more than just tonight. maybe you did harbor some feelings for na jaemin after all..

—

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

taggies(open) ↳ @kittydollzz @huffnpufffckk @completelyjae @lovesuhng @nae-vm @ayibdorrt @chocoriki @yomaman @yukisroom97

[wendichester]

I would like to request a story/one-shot of Dean. Please, my idea is to have the reader come back from trying to have a normal life after 2 years but being saved by Dean from the reader's abusive ex-boyfriend, who was possessed by a demon. The reader calls him from a motel after being attacked and almost killed. The reader would be the same age as Dean. I love angst, fluff, smut, action. I can't wait to read it.

ִֶָ་༘࿐ back to you,

summary. you left hunting behind for a normal life, but normal almost killed you. and when you call dean for help, he comes without hesitation.

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 739

warnings. abuse, violence, blood, angsty and slightly smutty ; mdni!

notes. hope i managed to do your idea justice! thank you for the request hun 🩷

You don’t know why you dial his number.

Maybe it’s instinct—something buried deep, something you thought you let go of years ago.

Or maybe it’s because you know, without a doubt, that if you call, he’ll come.

The motel room is dimly lit, the air thick with copper and fear. Your hands shake as you press the ice pack to your ribs, wincing at the deep bruising beneath your shirt. The bedspread is stained with your blood—your ex’s blood, too, but it’s black, inky, curling in places it shouldn’t.

You knew something was wrong when he changed. When the apologies stopped coming, when the anger started twisting into something unnatural, something cruel. But you kept telling yourself this was what you wanted—a normal life. Stability. Something different than hunting.

Now, you’re paying the price.

The phone rings once. Twice.

Then—"Y/N?"

You almost sob at the sound of his voice. "Dean."

His tone sharpens immediately. "Where are you?"

You swallow hard. "Pinewood Motel, off Highway 6. Room 14."

"Are you hurt?"

"Yeah," you whisper, voice shaking. "I—he—" Your throat closes, bile rising at the memory of hands wrapped around your neck, snarled threats spilling from a mouth that wasn’t his.

Dean doesn’t need you to say it. "Stay put. I’m coming."

Then the line goes dead.

You barely register the roar of the Impala pulling in. By the time the knock comes—loud, insistent—you’re already up, crossing the room.

When you open the door, Dean is standing there, eyes wild, breath heavy like he broke every speed limit to get to you. He takes one look at you—swollen lip, bruised cheek, the dark stains on your shirt—and his jaw clenches, something lethal flashing in his eyes.

"Son of a bitch," he breathes, stepping inside.

You don’t realize you’re shaking until he reaches for you, fingers brushing over your arms, your shoulders, his touch careful, reverent. "Did he—?"

"He’s dead," you say quietly. "It wasn’t just him, Dean. He was possessed."

Dean’s grip tightens. His eyes flicker over you again, checking, cataloging. "You sure it’s over?"

You nod, but your voice wavers. "I think so."

Dean exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair before pulling you into his chest. It’s automatic—the way you fit against him, the way his arms wrap around you like he can hold you together.

"Jesus, sweetheart," he mutters. "What the hell were you thinking?"

You let out a choked laugh. "That I could have a normal life."

He pulls back just enough to look at you, fingers tilting your chin up. "And how’d that work out?"

"Really fucking bad."

His lips press together, something softer, sadder settling in his gaze. "You should’ve never left."

The weight of those words settle deep in your chest, guilt threading through your ribs. "I thought I wanted to."

Dean’s thumb brushes over your cheek, barely ghosting over the bruise there. His voice lowers, rough, but there’s something unbearably tender beneath it. "And now?"

You look up at him, at the concern carved into his face, the way his hands still tremble slightly where they hold you.

"I don’t want normal," you whisper. "I want you."

Something breaks in him at that. He breathes out your name like a prayer before his mouth crashes into yours.

It’s desperate, consuming. His fingers tangle in your hair, his other hand slipping under your shirt, tracing over bruises like he can erase them. Your hands pull at his jacket, needing him closer, needing him to ground you.

When he backs you against the bed, you go easily, gasping as he lowers you down. His lips never leave yours, not as his hands work your clothes off, not as he presses kisses down your neck, over your shoulder, mapping every place that hurts with his mouth.

"Mine," he murmurs against your skin, voice hoarse, possessive. "No one gets to touch you like this. No one but me."

And you don’t want anyone else.

The night is slow, filled with whispered apologies, soft moans, the warmth of him sinking deep into your bones. He doesn’t let go of you—not once. Even after, when the adrenaline fades and exhaustion crashes over you, he holds you tight, fingers laced with yours, his lips pressed to your temple.

"You’re coming back with me," he murmurs. "Not gonna let you go again. Nothing bad's ever gonna happen to you again."

You sigh, sinking into him, into home.

"Not going anywhere."

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[bunny-jpeg]

sinful sentences (fourteen)

lewis hamilton - "yes, please keep doing that."

tags: smut/pwp, ferrari driver!reader, rivals/teammates/lovers, oral sex & fingering (reader receives)

sinful sentences catalogue

you didn't have a kink, you thought the idea of a hand kink was stupid. you didn't look at hands on the internet, you didn't get wet to the sight of them in public. it wasn't a kink.

but you had a thing for your teammate's hands. formula one driver's hand pretty big hands, but it wasn't just that fact that made lewis hands arousing. it was how tactile he could be with them, how he wore his rings.

when you jokingly said let's compare hand sizes in an attempt to brush off the rough weekend together. he complied and you felt something stir in your core.

"look at that." lewis said, his dark eyes looked away from your hands and towards your heated face, "quite the difference." but all your could hear was the thumping of blood in your ears.

you linked your fingers with his and leaned towards him, he laid back on the bed with you on top of him. you held hands while you went in to kiss him deeply on the lips.

you and lewis had been dancing around this since you both joine ferrari. when carlos and charles got the boot (sorry!), two legacy drivers were snatched up from their teams and dumped into the red seats. lewis had seven world champions and you had a much less impressive three. you had been in each other's space for a long period of time and being on the same team meant a forced proximity that only made everything boil over.

sometimes you wanted to kill each other and other things you wanted to fuck like rabbits in the garage. as was the nature of teammates.

you looked at one another, you on top of him. his other hand was at your waist. you realized how lovely his eyes were and it made something shudder through you. before you could say a word, he leaned in to kiss you square on the mouth once more.

with a little help from you, he got you onto your back. he let go of your hand and reached for your jaw. he looked into your eyes once more. the gaze between you two was heated.

you swallowed and he smiled. it was like the spell between you two was broken. the dance was over and there was finally a conclusion between you two.

he asked, "do you want this?"

you nodded, "i..i do." and without thinking grazed your tongue across the top front of your teeth. you unbuttoned your jeans, you kicked them off your legs and to the bottom of the bed to be found in the morning.

his larger hands were on your breasts where he palmed them with a little force. he was testing out what made you squirm, he knew that you went hot when his words were cunning on the track. but he wanted to put his talented fingers to use to make you moan.

"look at you." he said softly, "i wish we had done this years ago. all that time of you and i pushing each other on the track." he chuckled fondly at the memories, "how the press pitted us together. my greatest rival." affection on the tip of his tongue before he took the bottom of your t-shirt and pulled it up over your head.

clothes were shed and before you got straddled his waist to get the show on the road, but he kept you pinned down to the bed. you gave him a quizzical look and he winked at you before he kissed at your hip. he gazed up at you and said, "you like my hands, let me use them. and my tongue too." then licked his top lip for extra effect. it made your cunt clench.

you knew after this, you two would still be teasing one another. you would still be intertwined, but now was lovers too. he dipped his head down and kissed your inner thigh.

"fuck."

lewis chuckled as he kissed your slick pussy, he dragged his tongue across your folds for a moment, but kept one hand on your thigh to keep you down. he wasn't having his teammate make a quick escape. not when he wanted to gorge himself on your beautiful cunt.

"how's that?" he asked.

"yes, please keep doing that."

lewis smiled against you and hoisted your hips up a little to get better access to you. years and years of rivalry. it wasn't super serious, it was more friendly in competition. see who could come out on top and a few times you've surprised him. he liked that you were on a different level than most of the drivers who had come in, you made a name for yourself in the world of racing.

when he first started his career, he thought you two would make quite the power couple. but your paths never crossed in that way. you both dated other people, but always remained in each other's orbit. maybe it was time to change that your careers were nearing its twilight and now on the same team, maybe it was time to give the two of you a chance.

one up the bond that charles and carlos had on the team and actually go all the way with a relationship. as lewis started to finger you, he knew that you wouldn't go easy on him on the track. not that he'd want that, any victory against you would be earned. he heard your sweet moans and continued to finger you as he worked his tongue against your clit.

it felt right. he took his time with you, he wanted to pleasure you. maybe a small part of him wanted to outdo any other guy you had ever been with. that popstar from england or the engineer from germany. the hockey player and the businessman from the united states. quite a colourful cast of men you had been with, but lewis wanted to outdo them. make the years of dancing around each other worth it.

and with the sounds you were making, he was achieving his goal. he kissed your clit before he pulled slightly pulled away his head to look up at you. he wanted to admire you as he pleasured you. his lips shiny with your wetness that went down to his chin. he said softly, "look at you. a world champion taken apart by my fingers. i can see why you like them so much." he slowly licked his lips.

when you tried to hide your face from the rush of heat in your cheeks he laughed. you were normally so stoic on the track, but there you were under him completely coming apart. "i bet you thought about me. in hotel rooms across the globe, wondered what i was up. some nights i bet it took all your power now to come to my hotel room. but don't worry." he kissed your slit once more, "i spent many, many nights thinking about you. when you won your first championship, i wanted to shower you in champagne and then kiss you."

his words were sultry and it made your stomach leap. the tension could've been solved years ago. the realization made you drop your head into the pillows and your hand found the back of his head. he went back down on you, he worked his magic and you felt the heat in your core.

you moaned and a string of curses left your lips. you let him touch you, feel you. you realized that you liked his fingers a lot more than you initially thought. you shakily exhaled as the pleasure accumulated in your core. there was something deeply erotic about him. about this entire thing.

to be so close to him. you held onto him tightly and pressed his face further against your needy cunt. he quickened his movements between your legs and you tensed up. your voice got a bit higher and the lust burned your blood as you moved your hips a little as you climaxed on his tongue.

the continued to pleasure you through your orgasm. he only stopped when your hips touched the bed once more. laid out in a panting mess as you felt the aftershocks of pleasure.

lewis moved up to face you, he rubbed your cheek with his thumb and you melted into his touch a little while you panted heavily. you eased into one another as lewis wiped his mouth clean of your wetness with the back of his hand. both in bed naked together, his cock prodded against your stomach.

you noticed the feeling and opened your eyes to look at him. you smiled lazily, still blissed out before you took him by the shoulders and pinned him to the bed. his dark eyes grew wide and then chuckled as you straddled his waist.

your hand spread across his strong, tattooed chest as you said, "think we're dont, hamilton?" you winked at him, "think of this as endurance training. you'll need everything you can get, because i'm not going easy on your next weekend."

lewis took the challenge and gripped onto your hips. there was a twinkle in his eye as he said, "of course, but after this i'm giving you a little training of my own." <3

[vampzity]

oh baby! | S.MG

★ DAY THIRTEEN: BREEDING KINK WITH MINGI ★

pairing: husband! mingi x f! reader

it was a long day of babysitting, one the two of you enjoyed. however, mingi never thought seeing you take care of a child would heighten his desire to make you a mother..

[warnings]: MDNI 18+ !!!, smut, breeding kink, unprotected sex (duh), biting, rough sex, praising, degrading??, creampie, nipple play, spanking, fingering, prob curses ngl, pet names (baby, doll, good girl) not proofread..

word count: 1.5k

Mingi watched as you spoke to Yunho, complimenting how good of a kid his daughter was. His son stood with his arms crossed, sticking his tongue out at you to be funny.

Yunho had twins— a boy and girl, however the boy was only older by a few minutes and boy were they opposites. They were cute and you always loved having them over whenever Yunho was busy with his work or wanted to spend time with his wife.

Mingi didn’t mind it, but he struggled to keep his composure whenever he saw you take care of the two kids. How well you cared for them, heard their concerns, how your face lit up whenever they showed you their drawings. You loved them and took care of them as if they were your own.

It drove him nuts.

He felt his face flush red at the thought of you with his own kids, wondering what you would name them, even what they would look like. He knew you’d make a great mother someday and he trusted that instinct. Mingi watched as you held the younger girls hand, her finger squeezing around your finger for comfort. It was adorable and you were glowing.

His dick twitched in his as he imagined you ontop of him— your tits bobbing as you bounced on his aching member, how his bulge stuck out of you as he mangled you from the inside. He could see his cum dripping out of your cunt as he fucked you senseless, pumping you with load after load to guarantee a child.

Fuck.

A flip switched in his brain. Mingi never considered the idea of a child, it’s not like you two weren’t ready or financially prepared. You were, you had a home, a good source of income, there was really nothing holding you two back.

“You’ve been in your head all day, are you ok?” Mingi felt your hand brush against his own, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He met your eyes, realizing that the two children who followed you around all day were now gone. His bulge stuck out of his pants as he noticed the innocence in your eyes. His urge was growing, all he wanted to do was stuff you, make you a mother of his kids. It was ad if he was being teased at this point.

Mingi wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in and kissing your neck softly. Your eyes widened at his sudden actions— unsure of what to do or think but you let him continue, not questioning it at all.

“Just wanna make a baby out of you.”

Your breath hitched and you left out a soft moan, keeping silent as he continued. His hand kneaded the small fat of your love handle while his lips sucked on your skin softly. You felt your body heat up with embarrassment as his like danced around your neck.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll take care of you.” your eyes met his, watching as lust filled his dark orbs.

You stood there in shock not realizing a shy smile appearing on your face and without a second thought, Mingi picked you up bridal style. He carried you to your shared bedroom and placed you on the bed, ripping your clothes off of you as he took off his pants. You laid there vulnerable, feeling your cunt swell at his dominance.

You watched as his pants fell and pulled his cock out of his pants. He hovered over you, bringing your legs around his waist.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you, I’m just really desperate to stuff this pretty pussy of yours.”

He latched his lips onto your neck, biting your skin harshly. He pushed his cock into you without warning, a loud groan escaping the both of you as he began ramming into your swollen cunt. His angry head pounded your sweet spot with every thrust, stretching you out in ways you’ve never felt before.

“Fuck, loosen up for me doll,” he bit against your neck hard enough to leave a deep teeth mark.

“I can’t push myself inside of you if you keep squeezing me like this.”

You cried out in pleasure, your hands seeped up his shirt, scratching his back as his cock slammed into you. You dug your nails into his skin, squeezing your legs around his waist as you begged his name.

“Mingi please,” your cunt pulsated as fast as your heartbeat, choking his dick as he was inside you. “Gonna cum.”

He groaned aloud. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his dark gaze. A small smug grew on his face as he watched your helpless state, making his cock twitch inside of you. Watching you cry out his name, seeing how blown out your eyes were from the way his cock stretched you open, it was truly a sight to see.

Mingi was always sweet when you two did anything, so seeing him like this was an all new experience. He was desperate, a dog begging to be seen, to be loved. He wanted his cum dripping out of you by the time he was done, desperate to see what you may look like carry his own child.. or children.

“What’s wrong doll? Can’t take it?” His grip tightened on your chin, his nails almost caving into your delicate skin.

“So used to me being sweet, you can’t handle being manhandled?”

Breathless moans escaped you, unable to even think of a response for him. His hand slipped to your tits, his fingers squeezing your nipple harshly. You yelled out, your body squirming under him as he pounded into your cunt.

“You gonna answer me, yeah?” You nodded, a soft yes leaving your lips as Mingi groaned. “That’s my good girl.”

He rested his head against your chest, kissing your skin softly. His thrusts grew harsher, sloppier and he could feel his mind go foggy as his cock pressed against your cervix.

“You want me to make you a mother, isn’t that right baby?”

He sat up, looking down to admire his dick ran into you. His hand gripped onto your breast, squeezing it gently as he threw his head back. His hot liquid filled into you without a warning, a large white ring forming around his cock as your juices mixed with his own.

“Fuck, fuck.” Mingi looked down at you, his gaze falling to your heated body. “I can’t wait to see that baby hump of yours.”

He quickly pulled out of you, stuffing his fingers inside of your aching cunt. You whined out, feeling his fingers curl inside of you as he pushed them further.

“Mmm,” he licked his lip, watching as his fingers became coated in your slick. “Can’t let anything pool out of this pretty thing. You need every drop.”

He threw you on your stomach, admiring the way your slick stretched through your folds. He propped himself up behind you, sliding his tip against your hole.

“Take it like a good girl for me will you?”

He pushed himself into you, his hands gripping at your ass as he pounded you from behind. Your hands gripped at the bed sheets, crying out in pleasure as he angled your ass just perfectly to feel his tip.

“You like that baby?” His hand landed against your ass, a loud smack rippling through the room. “Practically my little slut.”

Mingi smacked you one more time, throwing his head back as his thrusts grew sloppier by the minute. His nails dug into your soft skin, a mix of your whimpers and his groans filling the room.

“You like when I fuck you like a slut baby?”

You whimpered in response, trying to suppress your moans but to no avail. Mingi landed a hard smack to the side of your ass, your skin turning a ripe red as it tingled from the pain.

“Answer me when I speak to you doll, I’d hate to break such delicate skin.”

“Yes! Yes, please fuck me harder!” You yelled out, looking back at his dark lusting eyes.

Mingi threw his head back, his hands gripping your waist tightly as you squeezed his cock. His tip pounded your cervix, practically bruising it from his size. He was in a daze, one he couldn’t get out of as member leaked.

“Fuck doll. I’m gonna fill you up so good.”

His hot liquid filled your insides, spilling out of you as he continued to pump you in. He couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to. His tip was so sensitive, aching as his cum gushed into you. He was desperate to make sure you’d get pregnant, even though he had no issue putting you in this predicament again.

His thrusts slowed as a loud groan escaped his mouth. He leaned over, kissing your back slowly before pulling his dick out of you. A soft whimper left your lips as he pulled your back to him, spooning you. Mingi kissed your back, his hand kneading into your thigh as his leg snaked between your own.

“Tell me doll,” his kisses snaked up to your neck as his breath hovered over your ear. “Are you ready for round 3?”

back to valentine’s masterlist

a/n: yall i am SO SORRY that this took so long and that i didn’t update it when i should’ve 😭 i was so distracted and busy today!!

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @h4untedgrl @rvereri @scarfac3 @jjongibears @kittykat-25 @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @tiredlittlevirgo @joonezra @honeyhwaaa @potentialgay @dollywoo @losrpark @motherseonghwa23 @inniesfanblog @stephanieeeyang @galaxy4489 @nickgurl4life @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub @katsukis1wife @unbel1ve4ble @nopension @bbdeongi @bbykaixx

★ comment to be added to the taglist or fill the detailed form here!

[momomogos]

*Break the water surface

The original clip is probably: his own light reflects from the skin to the water surface, outlining his soft blue outline, which rises slowly, gently, quietly from the water. You looked along the glowing blue smooth curve until you finally saw him one-a pair of ruby-colored eyes staring straight from the water.

[A?MLTYT au by @helpmeimawkwardbutfun]

This is a great word game! You get to explore an alien planet! Cuddle up and fall asleep with the alien boys! The link is here!

I'm not the author, the author is @helpmeimawkwardbutfun !!

I just wanted to do something about it out of spontaneity!I want this wonderful game to be seen by more people!

[SUN/MOON] Character Reference Sheet

[Y/N] Character Reference Sheet

There are character reference design Sheets I made for this game out of challenge and for my own amusement! I got the idea and design from @helpmeimawkwardbutfun! I just added some of my thoughts and preferences while keeping the description of the game itself as close as possible! I thank her for her help! I did have a lot of questions while designing that she helped answer and solve! I love how talented and enthusiastic she is!

（As always, I can't get the naff's SJ au out of my head, and I don't want yn to be bald, so draw it this way）

I have to thank my inspirations :[Sources of Light/Signs of Life created by @jackofallrabbits]

I might not have even finished the design without the inspiration of her writing. I was reading these two great drama-filled novels even before I learned about the game! 

I was also very highly recommended to check out jack's writing when I was chatting with the game writers!!!! So I'm here to highly recommend her work again! Click here to check it out!

*Is there anything better than hugging three boys together?

(I don't know how it will develop in the future lololo just the night before, she talked to me about some interesting things, so with this meme~~)

Here's a close-up: 

oops, there's also a costume reference version!

[SUN/MOON] CLOTHES Reference Sheet

*As well as there is a Chinese version! Click here to play!

The Chinese version of the project originated from an ASK from me, and I didn't realize that just 6 hours after I asked the question, bean released the Chinese version of the game and left me a message!!!! I really feel very thankful for that! There are no words to express my gratitude!

As well as please ask @helpmeimawkwardbutfun more questions! She deserves more love and kisses!

[kiwriteswords]

I was listening to Diet Pepsi by Addison Rae (it gives me so much Hotch vibes for some reason??? I love it) and I thought it would be the perfect occasion to make a request for your Thirsty Thursday 👀 I don't have much idea but I guess something in the car, maybe a younger reader so we have a lovely age gap and maybe something that goes with the lyrics "I write my name with lipstick on your chest I leave a mark so you know I'm the best" (don't need to be the name writing of course ahah but I love the idea of lipstick stains on his chest)

You're the absolute best and congrats on your 2k btw!! you deserve thousand more 🫶

Fog up the windows in the parking lot [Aaron Hotchner x Age-Gap!Reader] **

Ki2k Masterlist||MainMasterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: 3k|| AN: Hii! Thank you so much for this request--I still can't believe I was listening to this song when you sent this, haha. Great minds think alike!! I hope you like this (I can't write smut to save my life, but here i am doing a smut day.)

Tags/Warnings: female reader, porn without plot honestly, smut, mdni, unprotected sex, car sex, I am bad at writing smut sorry, horny hotch, sorta brat tamer hotch, age gap, you're hotch's controversially young gf, not specified if reader is BAU (so up to your imagination).

Summary: The one where Aaron Hotchner realizes he goes weak in the knees when he sees how tight his much younger girlfriend's jeans are.

Hotch couldn't help himself today, and it was all because of those jeans you decided to wear. Each time you bent over to grab something off the lower shelves at the grocery store, his heart skipped a beat, his mind filled with thoughts that had no place in the brightly lit aisles of their local market. You were oblivious to the effect you were having on him, focused on checking items off the grocery list, your hips swaying naturally as you moved down the aisles.

It wasn’t just the bending or the swaying; it was every little thing you did. Each time you reached up to grab something from a higher shelf, the way your back arched slightly, Hotch felt a pull deep inside him, a stirring of feelings he hadn't expected to be so strong.

When you both loaded the groceries into the car and then reached into the backseat to grab your purse, your jeans hugging you perfectly, Hotch found his eyes lingering. He was usually more composed than this, more in control, but today, those jeans had him teetering on the edge.

Driving home, he kept stealing glances your way, each look like adding fuel to a fire he was struggling to contain. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and tinged with a hint of warning and desire mingled together. "You have no idea what those jeans are doing to me," he confessed, trying to keep his focus on the road but failing miserably.

You turned to look at him, a mischievous sparkle in your eye, fully aware now of the turmoil you were causing. His words, so out of character for the usually stoic and controlled man, only brought a playful smile to your lips.

Hotch knew he was treading uncharted waters, not just with his emotions but with how openly he was expressing them. Despite the teasing from the team, who noticed how much younger you were, and their offhand jokes about him being like a lovestruck teenager, it didn't matter. You brought out a side of him he never knew existed. A side that felt alive, vibrant, and yes, even a bit reckless.

You sighed, looking in your purse for something beside Hotch in the passenger seat. He then all about lost it when you unbuckled your seat belt in the passenger seat and twisted to the back. Your ass was now level with his head, practically drawing him in. He had to keep his eyes on the road--but god dammit. 

The car shifted slightly as he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening from the tension. "You're doing this on purpose now," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with a mix of exasperation and barely contained desire.

Playing coy, you didn't respond immediately. Instead, you found your lipstick and settled back into your seat, taking your time to apply it carefully, glancing at him to gauge his reaction. His eyes flicked, catching yours, and you saw a flash of something intense in his gaze.

Hotch stepped on the gas a bit harder than necessary, the slight surge forward a clear indication of his growing impatience and agitation. You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, teasing him further. "You know, you're really sexy when you're all hot and bothered," you pointed out, your tone playful yet sincere.

The remark seemed to hit a nerve, and Hotch took a deep breath, trying to refocus his attention on the road. But it was clear you had effectively distracted him, his mind racing with thoughts he usually kept well under wraps. This side of Hotch, the one that struggled between his composed exterior and the mounting desire you elicited, intrigued you. It was a side of him that came out rarely, and you relished the moments when you could draw it out, loving the way he looked at you when he thought you weren't watching.

You leaned back in your seat, a mischievous glint in your eye, and teased him, "I have a good idea."

Hotch's response was immediate and a little strained, his voice tight as he focused on the road. "The only idea I have right now is getting home and taking a cold shower." He was half-joking, but the undertone of his voice betrayed his growing frustration and need.

You laughed lightly, enjoying the effect you had on him, but decided to push the envelope a little further. "You know," you started casually as if the thought had just occurred to you, "I've always wanted to have sex in the car."

Hotch paused at that, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He glanced at you briefly, his expression a mix of surprise and contemplation. The rational side of him kicked in almost immediately, listing several reasons why that was not a good idea—safety, legality, the potential for discomfort. But before he could voice any of those thoughts, he felt your hand on his thigh.

Your fingers started caressing him, inching dangerously close to his groin. Each touch sent a jolt through him, scattering his thoughts and straining his control. His grip on the steering wheel tightened again, and he drew in a sharp breath, trying to concentrate on the road while battling the surge of desire your bold move had ignited.

He half sighed, half groaned your name, his voice strained as he tried to concentrate on the road. "That's not—"

But he didn't finish his sentence. The sensation of your fingers, the way you leaned closer to him, your breath on his neck as you whispered just how much you wanted this—all of it was overwhelming. Hotch gripped the steering wheel even tighter, the car speeding along as he battled the surge of desire that you sparked with your daring touch.

He took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of control, but the more he thought about your suggestion, the more appealing it seemed. Here he was, a man always in control, always calculated, yet at this moment, driven to the edge by the simple act of your hand on his leg.

"We should... we should at least pull over," he finally conceded, his voice a mix of reluctance and desire, realizing that resisting you completely was a battle he might not want to win today. As he scanned for a secluded spot to park, the thrill of the impending escapade with you sent a jolt of anticipation through him. 

Hotch pulled the car over, the tires crunching softly on the gravel as he turned off into a secluded spot shielded by trees. Without a word, he reached over the console, his movements deliberate, and captured your lips in a rough, hungry kiss. You moaned into his mouth, your lipstick leaving a taste of cherries against his lips, igniting a fire within him that he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years.

His hands roamed over your body with a sense of urgency and ownership, finally reaching across the console to trace down your legs to those tight jeans that had been torturing him all day. His touch sent shivers up your spine, and you pulled back breathless, meeting his gaze which had darkened with raw desire.

"You’re gonna need to help me peel these off," you suggested with a playful yet sultry tone, motioning towards the backseat, "Maybe back there would be better?"

The idea sent a thrill through Hotch, the tightness in his own jeans growing at the thought. His brain buzzed with a cascade of 'what ifs' — what if we get caught? What if someone sees? Yet, the logical side of him was quickly overridden by the sheer desire to be closer to you, to explore this daring side of your relationship.

Hotch's decision was made the moment you suggested moving to the backseat, but as he surveyed the space, he realized there was enough room if he pushed the driver's seat all the way back. The SUV, similar to the one he drove for the FBI, was spacious, but even then, the two of you fit just barely.

You began to wiggle out of your jeans in the passenger seat, and Hotch reached for his belt with urgency. Typically, your intimate moments were full of foreplay, and you both took your time, savoring each other. But today was different—there was a sense of rush, an urgency in the air as he pulled himself from his jeans, his eyes never leaving you.

"Come here," he said in a low, commanding tone that sent a shiver down your spine. It was a direct, uncharacteristically blunt invitation, but it carried all the intensity of your mutual desire. He adjusted himself, making space for you, anticipation etching every line of his face as he awaited you to straddle his lap.

Your eyes went from his to his hand as he began stroking himself with a semi-achingly slow pace that made your eyes widen. He watched you slide your panties down your legs, kicking them to the floor of the car with your jeans and shoes.

The rush, the spontaneity—it all contributed to a thrilling urgency neither of you could deny. As you moved towards him, leaving the constraints of your jeans behind, the tight confines of the SUV seemed to close in, enveloping you both in a private world where only your intertwined desires mattered.

You slid from the passenger seat, the fabric of the car seats whispering beneath you as you maneuvered yourself toward Hotch. The confined space of the SUV made every movement more deliberate, more charged with an electrifying tension. Your heart raced as you reached him; his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that mirrored the pounding of your pulse.

Carefully, you straddled him, positioning yourself over his lap. Hotch's hands immediately found your hips, his grip firm and sure, anchoring you securely against him. The close quarters of the SUV enveloped you both, creating a cocoon of intimacy that amplified each breath, each subtle shift in movement.

His hand moved from your hip to between your legs, spreading you and finding the wetness that waited for him there. He groaned, feeling it; he threw his head back, opening his neck for you to nip at and kiss. You began unbuttoning his button-up, glad he went without the tie today and just the button-up and jeans--a casual look you loved. 

You reached between the two of you and positioned him before swiftly sinking down with a shared groan filling the walls between the two of you. You felt the pads of his fingertips grip your hips again as you began to rock into him, subconsciously clenching around him. 

His hands caressed the curve of your ass, guiding your hips to rock against him. The way he pressed you so firmly down against his hips had the right amount of pressure on your clit, causing you to roll your eyes in pleasure. 

His hands spread up your sides on your still-clothed top. Through your shirt, he grabbed at your breasts roughly before returning to your ass. 

Hotch got a little rougher, meeting your hips rand ocking against his with a thrust beneath you. You could feel him deep within you. Caught in your throat was a moan, but the pleasure was too immense--too good. 

“You have no idea what you were doing to me today in those jeans,” Hotch panted, his lips finding the crook between your shoulder and your neck as he began to meet you thrust for thrust--so deep, so good--so much. 

“Oh,” You squeaked, “I have an idea.” You laughed, breathlessly. 

“Fucking,” Thrust, “Brat.” The sound of your hips smacking. Your thighs sweaty now against him, and your wetness now audible. 

“You love it,” You breathed, your lips going down to his chest now, kissing him and leaving marks of your lips from your lipstick, stained across his chest. 

“Yes,” He thrusted again, sharper now, but the rhythm beginning to falter. “You better hurry up and come,” he said breathlessly. You clenched around him with a glint in your eyes, “I’m serious.” 

Reaching between the two of you, you began working your clit with a circular rhythm that was old faithful in any situation. Hotch’s eyes squeezed shut then open, continuing to meet you. There was a found tempo from the way your fingers circled your clit and the way his hips met yours.

You felt the coil begin to tighten as your orgasm approached. Your thighs began to shake and you threw your head back. Hotch’s fingers bruising your hips continued with each deep thrust. Over and over and over. Just right. 

You came with a gasp, which was then covered by Hotch’s lips kissing you. His hips beginning to lose control as his own orgasm left him. You felt him empty within you, only adding to the sensitivity you felt deep within you. His hips stuttered against you, resting, but your thighs still shaking against him. As if to hold you into place, his hand rested at the small of your back, settleing you. 

A groan left his lips into your mouth, and the two of you slowed with lethargy. As the intensity of the moment ebbed, Hotch's hands gently caressed your skin, soothing and tender in their touch. The two of you were left sweaty and breathless, the aftermath of your passion palpable in the close, humid air of the SUV. His hands moved slowly, tracing patterns across your back and shoulders, each stroke helping to ground you both as you came down from your highs.

The small space of the car, which just moments ago had felt electrifying and exhilarating, now seemed overly warm and confining. As you both caught your breath, the reality of the situation gently settled in—a mixture of amusement and affection hanging between you.

"We definitely need a shower," Hotch murmured, a slight grin playing on his lips as he acknowledged the state both of you were in. The thought of continuing this intimacy in the shower brought a soft smile to your face.

"And maybe a detail for the car," you added, laughing softly, the sound mixing with the faint hum of the idling engine. The humor of the situation wasn't lost on you, and Hotch's responding chuckle told you he felt the same.

"So, I take it you liked the jeans?" you asked, a playful note in your voice.

Hotch glanced at you, a smirk playing on his lips. His eyes held a glint of mischief mixed with undeniable affection. "I loved them," he admitted, his voice low and enticing. "But for the sake of productivity, maybe never wear them again around me if we actually want to get anything done."

His witty response made you laugh, the sound light and carefree. It was moments like these that deepened your connection, mixing playful banter with the intense chemistry you shared. 

Your fingers trace the outline of your lips marked all along his neck and chest from the now-smeared lipstick you had applied moments before. A mischievous smile spread across your face as you pointed them out. "You know, this might be my favorite look on you now," you said, the playful tone in your voice tinged with a hint of satisfaction.

Hotch raised his eyebrows, a slight blush coloring his cheeks as he reached up to feel the marks, his fingers brushing over the spots you indicated. The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile, appreciative of your boldness and the memory of the moments that led to such disarray.

"Is that so?" he replied, his voice laced with humor and a warmth that reached his eyes. "I suppose it's a good thing we're heading home then. I might need to wear it more often if it gets that kind of approval."

As you watched the fading lipstick marks on his skin, you leaned closer, a teasing gleam in your eyes. "I like marking what's mine," you murmured, tracing a finger lightly over one of the marks, emphasizing your words.

Hotch looked at you, his expression softening into one of deep affection, the playful retort ready on his lips turning into something far more tender. "Sweetheart, you don't need marks to know I am," he replied, his voice gentle yet firm, filled with a sincerity that warmed you through.

You kissed him tenderly there before he patted your bare hip. You smiled against his lips, knowing the two of you had to leave this little intimate cocoon now. “I know, I know,” you sighed against his lips before whimpering, slowly moving off of him, trying not to make an entire mess of his already dirtied car. Hotch groaned, feeling you leave his lap. 

Despite the age gap between you, something about being with you made Hotch feel as though he was losing his innocence all over again; each moment tinged with a freshness and excitement that he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. It was a rediscovery, a rejuvenation of spirit in the best way possible, with every laugh, touch, and shared secret making him feel both wonderfully vulnerable and profoundly alive.

He sure hoped you wore those jeans again. 

[solardrop]

tyrant.

aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: Hotch lets you take some anger out on him after he disrespects you on a case. tags: smut. 18+ mdni, oral F recieving, face sitting, handcuffs, hate sex?, maybe more so annoyed sex idk bro, not proofread word count: ~0.9k a/n: i have once again tried practicing smut. This is probably gonna happen a lot sorry. I feel like the header makes it seem like this is much more intense than it really is i promise you its not. I hope you like it! you can also read it on ao3!

Aaron lets out a tired sigh as he stretches his arms out across the bed of your shared hotel room. He shakes his hand petulantly, the sliver chain of his handcuffs jingling as he does so.

"Throwing a fit right now doesn't change you breaking the chain of command" he mutters

"I was doing my fucking job" you sneer "And you try to punish me for it?"

You secure his other hand with your own pair of cuffs. He was flat against the sheets now, arms locked to handles of nightstands to either side of the bed. "You embarrassed me Aaron, in front of the whole team—the whole fucking precinct!"

"Your idea was reckless. You were stubbornly determined to give local law enforcement tasks that would end up exploding in your face."

You blink slowly, heat rolling out from your ears at the nonsense you were hearing. Not a single apology.

"You're out of line and subverting authority," you mock," you're not in the position to give demands," Mimicking the earlier bite of the man who loved you oh-so-deeply as you climb up by his shoulders and hover your center above his face. A metallic clank sounds as he reaches to grab your thighs on instinct. A wicked smirk stretches across your lips.

"Careful sweetie," you pout, "wouldn't want you to have to go up the chain of command to report to Strauss the expense you raked up destroying hotel property."

You drag the length of your folds across his face, shivering as your clit nudges against the tip of his nose. Aaron's tongue laves out to taste you. He cranes his neck as much as he can without hurting himself, searching out more of your taste. He groans out in bliss when you finally put your full weight against him, finally able to slide his tongue into the warmth of your cunt.

When Hotch eats you out, you always feel stripped. He holds you open. He sets the pace. He decides exactly how and when you're gonna melt for his tongue. You were docile, malleable.

But like this? Your knees pressed into the mattress beside his head? The yellow hotel lights glinting off the steel wrapped around his wrists? The sight of his dark lashes fluttering below the curve of your stomach?

You brace a hand on the wall as you raise yourself up for a moment. Willing the dark vignette of your impending orgasm from the corners of your vision. If you cum now you'll fold. He'll tell you to let him go and your fuzzy brain will comply. You'd be under him in milliseconds. Right now you are in control, you wanna keep it that way. You close your eyes, One….Two….

"Fuck… Honey come on"

Your eyes flash open to glare at the man below you. "I'm sorry I didn't think I gave you permission to make any demands right now?"

He winces and licks his lips. The muscle in his bicep contracts as he pushes against his restraints. The corner of his cheeks shine with your wetness, the defiant look in his eyes making your pussy clench through your frustration.

"I'm sorry. But you can't undermine—"

You slam a hand down onto his forehead, lacing your fingers through his inky strands as you press his head back into the soft sheets. "God, shut up," you grit.

You grind your wetness along his face. You fight against his attempts to open his mouth, rutting your clit against his closed lips. You get a firmer grip of his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to your center. Goosebumps prickle your back as your moan out into the sweet silence.

"You're such a —fuck— fucking bully," you wheeze, "I've trained. I'm— I'm capable and you know that." He hums, the vibrations tickling you all over.

"But you always steamroll every. fucking. thing i say."

You raise a leg and plant your foot into the mattress, the new angle giving you leverage to thrust into his mouth with new fervor. Breathless laughs escape your lips at every roll of your hips. The only sound the tyrant between your legs could make were a series of honeyed moans. The clinking sound of the metal around his wrists slows as he relaxes in your hands. Finally submitting to your power. His lips kiss and suck at wherever he can contact —your puffy lips, your hardened bud. Hotch was finally silent, finally pliant. Letting you—No fuck that, succumbing to you fucking his face. You bite out a remark with every buck of your hips.

"I don't have to respect shit"

"Who the f-fuck do you think you are?"

"if this is all it takes to get you quiet I would've done it — ages ago"

A powerful suck on your clit causes your voice to break. Your leg slams back down to the mattress as your thighs clamp around his head. The heat in your stomach builds as you hump against him frantically. Snarky comments and sharp curses replaced with heady pants. The ice cold rush of your orgasm surges through your spine, halting the circular motions of your hips. Your nails press into his scalp as you hold him to you; his tongue lapping at your inner folds while you shake against him. Your body relaxes as you ride out the wave of your orgasm. You use the last of your energy to toss yourself to the side of the mattress, careful not to kick him in the face on the way down.

Your eyes blur against the blinding lights, a pair of heavy breaths filling in the empty space around you. Aaron's still-hard dick strains through his slacks, making you giggle when you twist around to catch a glimpse of it.

"Sweetheart," he breathes, "I'm sorry, get the keys…let me touch you"

You really should follow the chain of command.