#I have one thought and then slow us all down to cap :p

[orjustsomeghostofme]

New thought/vocal stim discovered for Cloud of Darkness: 'How do you expect me to stab a cloud?'

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Hii, long time no see :3 can we get some of protective/ jealous/ possesive gator imagine? <3 i saw ur requests are open rn? <3

Here you go sweet girl! Thank you for your request. 😘 I hope you enjoy your filth!

One jealous/possessive/protective Gator coming up!

CW: No use of Y/N. Mean, mouthy Gator and a little pervy. Both are toxic. A smidge of degradation. Reader is called a bitch (not by Gator). Reader with a vagina. Semi-Public smut (we're in a restroom). Hair pulling. Spanking. Unprotected P in V. Creampie.

WC: 1.8K

You're so close to the edge that the steady stream of moans being dragged from your lips could no longer be contained, unable to form a coherent thought with the way his hips piston into yours.

Each slow drag of his thick cock against your velvety walls had you feeling every ridge and vein, driving you insane. He wasn’t gentle, plunging back in a little deeper each time.

His large hand tangles in your hair, pressing your face further against the mirror, as his other holds firm to your hip sure to leave finger shaped bruises in their wake.

“Ya’ think he could fuck ya’ like this?” He forces out in between hard, heavy thrusts, balls slapping your aching clit. “Think he could have ya’ cryin’ on his cock?”

“Probably got a fuckin’ needle dick.” He adds with a huff.

You mewl when he pulls your head back, fingers firmly locked into the roots of your hair, making your back arch, pushing your ass back against him.

“Can't talk now? I asked you a fuckin' question.” Tugging a little more harshly when you don't answer right away.

“Ahhhh! Gator! No!”

“No, what?” He grits out, cock still carving a path in and out of your soaked pussy.

“N—no one fucks me this good.” You moan out.

He gives you a momentary reprieve, letting your head fall back forward, untangling his fingers so he could hold both your hips steady as you cling onto the edge of the porcelain sink, hips starting to hurt with the way he had you pushed into the edge of the counter.

It was your fault really. You'd purposely flirted with the guy buying you drinks, knowing exactly the scenario you would find yourself in at this very moment.

Gator was furious when he had walked in, spotting you at the bar with some asshole who had the audacity to talk to you.

You weren't his. Not really. So, he shouldn't feel this level of rage. He wasn't your boyfriend, and in all honesty, you wouldn't even call each other friends but somehow you always ended up tangled together in some dingy broom closet or the front seat of his truck.

He was irritating and got under your skin like no one else could, but he was also the best lay you'd ever had, though you'd never tell him that to his face.

The guy you were talking to wasn't even that cute, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

“Oh, that is so funny!” You laughed, laying a hand to his forearm when the door swung open to reveal the young deputy coming in after a late night shift to blow off some steam.

His eyes trailed your legs, pants growing a little tighter with the way your dress hugged your curves.

“Fuckin' hell.” He muttered, walking to the bar with a shake of his head, ordering a beer a few stools down from your little display.

You saw him enter but pretended not to, leisurely sipping your drink and paying little attention to what Roger… no Reggie… was saying.

He was wearing that stupid green and white ball cap turned backwards, along with his usual khaki cargos and camo hoodie, sans his thigh holster.

A few more giggles, and lingering touches had Gator seething in his seat, slamming his empty beer down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before standing up and heading your way.

Your back was still turned when you felt him brush up against you, Reggie still droning on about something, but your attention was already drawn elsewhere.

His head turned toward you and Reggie, face showing no emotion, as he leaned onto the sticky bar top.

“Ya’ think this is funny?” He asked.

“Excuse me?” Reggie perked up, as you eased your stool around, finally meeting Gator’s stoic gaze.

“M’not talkin’ to you, dipshit. M’talkin’ to her.” His eyes never left yours as he spoke.

Reggie scoffed but before he had a chance to say anything else you spoke up.

“Its pretty amusing.” You smirk over at him. His jaw suddenly had that tick that only happens when you know he's about to lose it.

He tilts his head and leans in close enough you can smell his axe body spray that he no doubt doused himself with after he got off work.

“Hey, babe, you know this guy?” Reggie asked, standing from his stool, making Gator stiffen before taking on his full height and squaring his shoulders, glaring over your head at the other man.

Oh shit. You decide to diffuse the tension before it got out of hand like last time and ruining the whole mood, quickly turning back to Reggie.

“Hey, thanks for the drinks. But I don't think I'm really feeling a connection here.” You speak sweetly, as he looks down at you with a pinched brow as you continue.

“I had fun and all—”

“Fuckin' bitch.” He states, face morphing into one of resignation, taking a step back as Gator steps forward, pressing into your back.

“What'd you just call her?” He spits, but you stay firmly planted between them. Reggie looks between the both of you for a moment, before taking another step back, deciding it wouldn't be worth the headache.

“Hey asshole!” Gator raises his voice, pushing into you further, fists clenched at his sides before you turn around to stop him, gripping the front of his hoodie.

“Don't… S’not worth it. Besides…” You shrug. “Kind of deserved it. Used him for drinks while waiting on your sorry ass to show.”

He grins at that.

“Damn. You are cold hearted.” He huffs with a small laugh, leaning down to whisper in your ear, lips grazing your skin as he speaks, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Ya’ wear that little slutty dress just f’me?” He asks, arrogance seeping back through, bringing his hands up to settle on your hips letting his eyes trail your figure.

“Seems like it has the desired effect.” You softly reply, palming at his bulge with a playful grin.

“Bathroom. Now.” His commanding tone leaves no room for protest. You hurriedly cross the bar with a dopey grin plastered across your face, Gator hot on your heels, smacking your ass for good measure.

He made quick work of locking the door and promptly pushing you against it, claiming your mouth in a fierce kiss, pulling your dress up and shoving your panties down your thighs, leading you to where you are now with his thick cock nestled inside your tight cunt, knowing exactly who you belonged to.

Your panting breaths fan out and fog up the mirror, face still pressed up against it when he pulls back, plunging back in so hard it knocks the wind from your lungs and nearly makes your legs give out.

“Fuck! Gator!” You moan out, hoarse and ragged.

“Ya’ like that whore?” He punctuates with another deep thrust, his tip hitting that sweet, spongy spot that has your eyes rolling back, ripping a near pornographic moan from you.

“Oh, there it is.” He muses, licking his lips and angling his hips to make sure he hits it again, leaving you breathless.

He tangles his hand back into your messy locks, pulling your head back, the sting making your groan as the tendons in your throat strain.

“Eyes open, sweetheart.” He commands, meeting his gaze through the mirror, his usually slicked back hair now in disarray, hanging down against his forehead. His eyes lock onto yours, hungry and lust filled.

“That's it. Want t’make sure you remember whose cock is poundin’ this pretty little pussy.” He says, with a salacious grin as your walls flutter around him, making his rhythm falter for a moment when your walls clench around him.

“Goddamn.” He breathes out, eyes trailing down to your ass. He rears back with an open hand administering a sharp smack to your cheek, making you cry out, your hips try to jolt forward but you're firmly pinned in place.

“Tell me who this pussy belongs to.” He demands, a whimper falling from your slack jaw.

“Tell me! Or I swear t’God I'll stop right now!” He repeats more forcefully, the grip on your hair growing tighter.

“Yours! It's yours Gator!” You finally relent, knowing full well he wouldn't let you cum unless you said it.

“Was that so hard?” He chuckles, releasing your hair, pulling you slightly away from the counter, sliding his hands down your stomach, past your mound, as deft, calloused fingers find your throbbing clit.

You find his wrist, holding him there, while he begins to draw tight circles against you, hurdling you toward release.

“That's it.” He says, drilling into you over and over. “Cum on my cock. Want t’feel how good I fuck ya’.

His filthy words and relentless pace have that insurmountable pressure building in your lower abdomen at a rapid pace. Hot white heat suddenly floods your core, licking up your spine as your cunt spasms around the entirety of his length, with a loud cry of his name. Your body slumps forward, as he stops his ministrations to hold your hips in place, chasing his own high as you continue to ride out yours.

Only a few more thrusts and he's following after you with a loud groan, painting your walls with his thick, heavy load.

“Fuck!” He hisses, holding you in place a few more seconds, hips stilling, cock twitching with the aftershock before pulling out slowly leaving your cunt a weeping mess, as a small whimper escapes you.

He steps back, stuffing himself back into his boxers and zips up his pants, allowing you to finally stand back up and look yourself over in the mirror.

You looked absolutely and thoroughly fucked with mascara running down your face, lipstick smeared across your cheek and hair sticking up in all directions.

“Jesus Christ.” You muttered, taking a paper towel and wetting it.

“You're welcome.” He chuckled behind you, watching you begin the tedious task of trying to make yourself look presentable.

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Already did that, sweetheart.” His reflection throwing you a wink, as he smoothed his hair back down.

You roll your eyes, mumbling a “whatever,” when you notice him bending over to pick up your panties from the floor, pocketing them.

“Hey! Perv!” Calling out and whirling around to face him.

His hand finds the doorknob, and with a shrug he smirks stating, “finders keepers,” before quickly slipping back out into the bar, leaving you there to gawk after him.

A few moments later you emerge, looking a little worse for wear, avoiding Reggie’s icy glare from the corner, making your way outside.

You would have been mortified to know, when he walked out, he proudly flipped Reggie the bird while holding up your panties, as if the entire bar hadn't heard you yet going at it like wild animals, firmly cementing his claim that you were off limits.

[alifeasvivid]

I think one time you described Alfred as someone who needs physical affection and praise while Arthur is someone who needs reassurance and promises 👀👀👀 100% agree, would you care to elaborate? share more of your genius with us 😳🙏

:D I will definitely elaborate (but I'm not a genius P:, these are just my opinions)

standard disclaimer that all of my headcanons about characters mean nothing to me except for what pleases me in the moment and in almost every instance I can (and often do) make a case for a completely contradictory interpretation.

I'll be using nation names for the most part because that's usually where my ideas start from.

America, being comparatively young, whose culture and personality are often about this constant flow of new ideas (most of them not great), about instant gratification, and, in some sense, about an inability to keep his attention still needs something grounding. Physical touch is probably the only thing that can slow him down for half a second and physical affection is a welcome oasis in his otherwise chaotic and divided mind/emotional spectrum. Given that his *most* of his life as an independent nation has been defined by isolation and the rest of it by kind of... fucking up and pissing everyone off (which he is well aware of and self-conscious about regardless of current political trends... and I think all nations are able to have opinions outside of that, to have awareness outside of such things) when all he wants is to be the hero, for good reasons and bad ones, receiving praise is the ultimate show of love from someone. Yes you are my hero, yes you're strong and good, yes you are beautiful, yes you are actually very sweet, yes "Daddy" loves you very much, yes you are very good at blowjobs er I'm sorry, I got distracted >.> Basically, the idea is that America is constantly moving, trying to outrun his own mind, his mistakes, trying to burn off his extremely high levels of energy and physical affection and praise are the two things that best allow him to rest... the touch brings him back to the present moment in reality and the praise tells him he doesn't have to keep running all the time.

On the other hand, England probably dislikes hearing praise, I think. It makes him uncomfortable. His sense of self is quite stable, sometimes too stable. If we imagine the British Isles as a cluster of rocks battered by the sea but unmoved by it, then we can imagine England, and also his brothers, possessing much of the same stubborness. He is cultured and cosmopolitan and refined at the same time that he is tenacious and tactless and rowdy. Both types of behaviors are used to hide his real self, which I think is caring, romantic, and thoughtful. He is a soft center with towering, marble walls very few have seen the other side of and, because those walls are equally a part of who he is, he needs reassurance that this is fine. That he is accepted just as he is (oof I am projecting, aren't I? lol) and he doesn't need to change and won't be asked to do so. He doesn't like to hear praise because, in his mind, he has a realistic sense of who he is and anything spoken well of him beyond that is mere flattery that must be insincere. And given that his life has often been defined by abandonment and rejection, particularly when those he cared for often ended up telling him to leave, that they didn't need him (not just America), he now needs promises, oaths really, declarations of fidelity to feel safe in relationships of any type. Basically, He needs to feel assured that not only is he accepted as he is, but that whoever it is will not suddenly decide that he is actually unacceptable and abandon him.

So I'm not gonna sum up with how these "fit together" because... that's what my whole blog is but... I will say that I'm not a huge fan of things like "love languages" because... ultimately, no one needs all one thing or all the other so to cap off:

The praise that America needs the most often takes the form of reassurances and promises and physical affection (and sometimes a little bit of praise) can definitely serve as a promise to England.

Thank you for the ask! this was fun :D

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Hayloft (p.1)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts...) 

Warnings: Abuse, mentions of drinking, misogyny, reader’s mother is dead

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: My first slow(er) burn fic! Let me know what you think!

__________________

When your car finally pulled up the old dirt driveway to your family's farm house, the sun was already setting, casting an orange hue over the acres of land that your father had inherited from his father. It was beautiful, really. The sun was behind your old two story home made of wood planks that were covered in chipping white paint. The door’s paint was also chipping, only this time it was old navy blue paint - at least that’s the color it was supposed to be when it was painted who knows how many decades ago - that peeled back to reveal the wood beneath. 

Your father’s truck wasn’t in the driveway yet when you pulled up and you sighed in relief because it gave you the opportunity to get dinner started before he got home. You headed straight for the kitchen. The only moment taken for yourself was the moment of silence when you leaned against the counter top and stretched out your back from the long day's work at the diner. The refrigerator was mostly empty and you made a mental note to run to the store after work tomorrow before your father could notice the lack of food. Thankfully, there was still enough scraps to piece something together for tonight between the fridge and the cupboards. 

The house was swimming with the delicious scent of herbs, onions, potatoes, and stock as you boiled a stew on the stove when you heard the front door open. “Hi, Daddy! How was work?” You asked over your shoulder before you even heard his steps enter the kitchen, not actually caring but knowing he’d be upset if you didn’t ask. 

He came around the corner but you could hear from the moment the door opened that there were the footsteps of more than one person entering your home. With a frown, you turned from the stove and took a few steps so you could see around the wall that blocked your view of the front door but your father and new mystery person stepped around that corner and into the kitchen before you could get that far. You stopped in your tracks, startled by their sudden appearance, and your hand flew to your chest as your eyes widened in surprise. “Sorry!” You chuckled awkwardly, apologizing for your jumpiness, “Didn’t think you’d be comin’ in here.” 

It was a man about your age that stood just behind your father, a navy baseball cap twisted in his hands and his footsteps light so as to not knock dirt off onto the floor from his work boots, both welcomed displays of manners that you appreciated, unlike your father who left a trail of chunks of dried mud and grease everywhere he walked. This new boy, though, he was cute. Short curly hair that was messy, either from work or wearing the hat, big expressive brown eyes that reminded you of a puppy in the best possible way, a tight lipped expression that showed he was a little nervous and uncomfortable to be here, they were all a welcome, albeit unexpected, surprise. 

"Work was good. This here is Arvin Russel. He'll be staying with us, at least for the night." Your eyes flicked back to the boy you now knew as Arvin when your dad introduced him and your heart skipped a beat at the eye contact. 

  He nodded his head slightly, a small cordial smile flashing on his face for just a moment, "Pleasure to meet you,..." 

"Y/N. It's nice to meet you as well. If you're staying the night, let me add some water to the soup and then I'll go make up the spare bed." You pointed your thumb over your shoulder towards the pot of stew that was nearly done. 

"That's very kind of you. Thank you." 

Before you could notice him moving, your dad was already beside the fridge and you reached out to try to stop him before he could open it. "Let me get you something! What about you, Arvin? You want a beer or some water?" You scurried to try and beat your dad to the fridge that you knew would earn you a reprimanding that you didn’t deserve. 

You were too late though and your dad already swung the door open wide. You stepped back nervously, rubbing the sharp edge of your nails against your thumb. "It's damn near empty." He noted, voice stiff and dissatisfied. He stood, managing to produce the last two beers from the refrigerator before slamming it shut. 

You flinched at the loud sound, hearing the few glass jars of preserves and jams clanging against each other inside from the force. Your eyes rolled beneath closed lids at his overdramatic reaction, even though it was one you expected. "I'm gonna hit the market after work tomorrow but I checked that we have enough for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow." Your voice was sweet and placating, careful to respond in a way that would keep his temper in check. 

  "It's that damn job of yours. I told you women shouldn't be working. They belong in the house where you should be. Now look. You went and let the kitchen run out." He passed Arvin a beer, which he reluctantly accepted, watching the way your father pointed his finger at you accusingly. “Ain’t no man gonna want a wife who can’t even keep the kitchen stocked up.” 

Your tongue was raw inside from biting down on it so hard in order to keep yourself in line, as he called it. You didn't need a blow out tonight, not with Arvin here. "I manage to work and keep up with the house just fine, Daddy. We just got a little low on groceries but I'll be heading to the market tomorrow to fix it. Don’t you worry." Even you were surprised with how even and sweet your voice came out, that ever present fire of anger towards your father having been fanned into a decent blaze.  

He popped the tab on his beer and sighed, dropping the topic for the time being, "Fine. But make sure to pick up some fixin's for that chicken roast you make. Patty is lookin' nice and fat in the coop so why don't you cook her up tomorrow." 

You grimaced at the thought. Patty was one of the chickens in your coop out back that had been pretty slow when it came to laying eggs but you’d grown attached to her nonetheless. Ever since you were a young girl, your daddy warned you not to become attached to the animals out back but you never listened. Back then, you’d had your mother to step in and convince him not to kill the animals for whatever reason she could come with and opt for buying meat from the market instead. You hadn’t been able to convince him like that since she’d passed. Everything had been different since she passed. 

“I don’t know, Daddy. Patty’s been layin’ a lot of eggs lately and we’ve been gettin’ extra money from sellin’ all those eggs. Why don’t I just pick up a chicken in town tomorrow at the store.” You insisted, walking back over to the stove to stir the stew. 

“Don’t go wastin’ money on things we already got! We got some chickens out back. Just cook one of ‘em up tomorrow!” Your father’s voice was hard and stern now, enough to fill the air with tension in Arvin’s presence. You turned slowly, making eye contact with Arvin briefly before quickly avoiding it. You didn’t like the way he stood awkwardly, silently watching the interaction he clearly didn’t think highly of. Your father was already getting worked up and it would only get worse the longer the night went on. 

Biting your cheek, you nodded, “Yes, sir. Now why don’t you boys go get cleaned up. Dinner will be ready in just a minute.” 

**

Dinner went relatively well, despite your father’s occasional grumblings about there not being any beer. Once you finished, you stood up and picked up yours and your father’s bowls before noticing Arvin’s was empty as well. “Did you want some more? There’s just enough for one more if you’d like it.” You offered Arvin that last bit of stew but he just shook his head and stood up. 

“Oh, no thank you miss. Dinner was delicious though. Let me help with that.” He grabbed his own bowl before your hand could reach it and then took the bowls from your hands as well before setting them down at the sink. 

You chased after him, “Thank you but you don’t have to do that! Please, sit. I’ll make your bed up when I’m finished cleaning up dinner.” 

“She’s right, son. Kitchen ain’t no place for a man. Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you the room you’ll be stayin’ in.” You father’s chair screeched against the beat up wooden floor as he stood, beckoning Arvin to him. 

Arvin was standing right beside you, his arm only a few inches from yours as he lowered the stack of bowls into the sink. He looked over at you with deep soulful eyes that seemed to look right through your calm facade in a way that made you feel seen like never before. It was highly uncomfortable, almost violating after all these years of hiding away what you felt for the sake of keeping the peace, and you forced a smile, “Please, you’re our guest. It wouldn’t be right to make you do the dishes. You go with him.” 

He gave you a drawn out hesitant look but turned away nonetheless and walked towards your dad. “Thank you again for letting me stay here till I get things figured out. It’s mighty kind of you.” Arvin thanked you and your father for your hospitality, shooting you one last glance over his shoulder before following your father down up the stairs towards the spare room. 

You made quick work of the dishes, having cleaned most of them as you were cooking earlier anyways and scurried to the closet that held your extra sheets. As you passed the bathroom, you heard the shower running and knew it was your father bathing after his long day of work, like he always did right after dinner. The man was a creature of habit. 

With your arms full of neatly folded faded steel blue linens and the thicker burnt sienna colored wool blanket, you made your way towards the guest room Arvin was staying in to find the door wide open and the man looking through his bag that was set on the bed. “Knock knock,” you announced your presence, waiting at the entryway for Arvin to notice you before entering. 

He spun around, dropping something that you didn’t see quickly into his bag and pressing it down while flashing you a small polite smile, “Hello, ma’am.” 

You walked into the room, raising the linens in your hands, “I brought some sheets so I could make up your bed.” You walked over to the wooden chair and set the top sheet down before making your way back over to the bed, unfolding the bottom sheet as you did, waving it up and down in the air to straighten it out before laying it flat on the bed. 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, miss,” He moved his bag to the ground and jumped to lift the corner of the mattress and tuck the sheet beneath it. 

You blushed at his kindness, not used to such help from your father, but shook your head, tucking the sheet beneath the mattress on the opposite side of the bed “If my daddy came in and saw you fixin’ the bed yourself, he’d kill me,” you chuckled to make it sound like a joke but you knew better than that. He wouldn’t actually kill you but you would certainly get some less than kind words thrown your way, maybe even a few beer cans thrown your way depending on how drunk he was. 

Arvin shook his head, his hands falling on his hips, “Looks like you do most the housework ‘round here.” What he was insinuating was clear even though his tone didn’t change but you didn’t want to acknowledge it. He didn’t need to concern himself with the difficulties between you and your father. 

“So how’d you and my dad meet?” You changed the topic, going to grab the top sheet and unfolding it. You laid it over the bed and tucked your side in, Arvin reaching down to tuck his side in as well in a silent act of defiance against your insistence that he didn’t need to help. It occurred to you suddenly after the question left your lips that you didn’t actually know anything about this boy but, for some reason, you still didn’t feel uneasy around him.  

Arvin pulled the top corner of the sheet up to the head of the bed as he answered, “I just started workin’ at the garage with ‘im.” 

“You like cars?” You questioned, spreading out the final layer on the bed, the wool blanket. 

Arvin shrugged, “Never been really into ‘em but I can fix ‘em alright enough. Just needed the work and happened to see the wanted sign when I was passin’ through town.” 

Your brow raised in curiosity, “You were just passin’ through and stopped in this old town cause of a help wanted sign?” The little town you lived in wasn’t terrible but it was far from a destination that people really moved to for work unless you a doctor desperate for a place to practice or something like that. “You must really be desperate,” you joked but immediately felt a slight pang of regret when a shred of truth could be seen in his eyes. 

“Just tryna figure out where I’m goin’ ‘n what I wanna do. Figure I’ll find somewhere I like eventually.” Arvin picked up his bag and set it off to the side where it was a little more out of the way. 

You stared at the man standing before you, taking every bit of him from the grease stains on his white t-shirt to his scuffed up brown work boots to his messy hair, dirty from dried sweat. It wasn’t until you locked eyes with him that you realized that you’d been staring in a settled yet weirdly comfortable silence. You stood up straight and smiled to diffuse the awkwardness you’d unintentionally fostered, “You’re more than welcome to take a shower. My daddy should be finished any second. I’ll set some extra towels in there for you.” 

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you.” He nodded in appreciation but offered no further conversation. You could tell from the moment of silence that it was time for you to make your exit. 

“Well, uh, I better head to bed. You need anything before I go?” You asked, backing towards the door and swinging slightly with it once your hand hit the old bronze knob. 

Arvin shook his head, “No, thank you. ‘M all set.” 

“Alrighty, then. You have a good night.” You chewed your lip as you opened the door to make your exit. 

“G’night, miss Y/N.” 

Butterflies flew wildly in your belly as you walked to your bedroom. It had been a long while since you’d seen somebody worth looking twice at in this old town but now a mysterious handsome man rolls into town and stays with you. In your house. It probably wasn’t the safest of situations but Arvin genuinely looked like a nice man. From your very brief interactions with him, you couldn’t really imagine him trying to hurt you or your father for no reason. Even if he did, you knew where your daddy kept his shotgun and you had no problem defending yourself. But like I said, you had an unearned sense of peace with Arvin that you hoped wasn’t a misjudgement. 

“What’re you smilin’ ‘bout?” Your father’s gruff but thankfully not entirely drunk voice made you stop in your tracks and turn towards his room with a suppressed groan. He stood in the doorway of his bedroom in nothing but an undershirt and long johns with his suspenders hanging loosely at his sides.

You shook the smile off your face. “Just thought of somethin’ funny that happened at work,'' you lied. “You need somethin’?” 

“I watched you come out o’ that boy’s room with a big ol’ grin on your face. Better not let me catch you ‘n him. Ain’t no daughter o’ mine gonna be whorin’ around with some boy blowin’ through town, y’hear?” He threatened, his hands reaching down to pull up his worn out long johns. 

Your blood boiled at the accusation and despite your best efforts to keep peace while Arvin was here, you spat words with venom, “I wasn’t doin’ nothin’ with Arvin. God forbid I have a damn smile on my face.” Your voice was low enough so that you hoped your guest hadn’t heard your outburst but when your father’s face darkened and he began taking slow, heavy steps towards you, you weren’t sure if your charade of normalcy would last much longer. 

Your father hovered over you, exaggerating the size difference between the two of you, “I put a roof over your head. I put food on the table. You play make believe with that little diner job but I'm the head of this house. I'm your father. You watch that fuckin’ tone with me girl."

Your jaw was clenched tightly, matching your fists, as you glared up at him with indignantly furious eyes. Father your ass. He once had been your father, an imperfect but loving man who used to try. Now he was merely a selfish broken sperm donor. He inherited this house from his father, didn’t pay a darn cent, and you couldn't remember the last time he pitched in a dime for anything but alcohol and the occasional dinner he made when he was in a good mood. He did do that- have these strange out of character nights where he pretended to be kind and loving. They were far and few between though and, while you enjoyed the change of pace, it felt like walking on eggshells in some fantasy world. 

A heavy silence settled between the two of you that crackled with a tension that could snap at any moment and turn into a full blown fight. Your eyes were narrowed on his as you refused to let him think he intimidated you anymore. Nevertheless, you turned on your heel, nails digging into your palm, and walked down the hall towards your room, leaving him alone. 

“He wouldn’t want you anyways, fuckin’ attitude like that.” Your father grumbled to your back, hoping for one last reaction out of you that you refused to give. 

It took all the control in the world to not slam the door in his face but you knew there was no way it would escape Arvin’s attention. You’d have to resort to the therapy of muffling your furious tear-soaked screams into your pillow until you finally fell asleep, like you did many nights. 

[meltwonu]

| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 |     [CHAPTER 3]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, possessive!dom!wonwoo, daddy!kink, sex toys, dirty talk, squirting, fingering, oral(fem receiving), sexy aftercare! YALL WHAT A WEEK EH? 🥴 I’m exhausted and about to sleep thru the entire weekend(in actuality☠️) fkjhsdh Will try to answer inbox msgs if I’m not too tired(if I am, def sunday!)💕💕💕 and maybe thirst posts in between sleep if I can! 😗 Exciting!! I’m trying to be a bit more active, at least on the weekends lol baby steps!!😭💕 Anyway, I hope y’all have a lovely weekend~ Enjoy ch 3! I love u!! 💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - x - x

“Is this… It?”

Wonwoo laughs; the smell of alcohol on his lips when he leans towards you. “No, I just thought we’d have a little fun before I gave you your real present later, is all.”

The party had ‘started’ at least an hour ago and Wonwoo, despite his dislike of parties, was already three drinks in by the time you were knocking on the front door of the loud frat house. He’d dragged you to the kitchen to make you a drink while you chatted with others for a bit before he was tugging you up the stairs and into his room.

“Unless you don’t wanna play, ‘cause that’s okay too.”

He twirls the vibrating panties around his index finger - head tilted slightly in your direction. You roll your eyes in return, reaching for the fabric as you lean in closer to his warmth. “Me? Not wanting to play? Do you even know me?” You quip back, already taking the fabric from between his fingertips as you reach under your skirt to start removing your panties to replace them with the ones Wonwoo had given you.

Biting his lip, he watches as you slowly slide your panties down your legs. “I’m trying to get to know you.” He mumbles - more to himself than to you but the slight giggle he hears from you lets him know that you heard him perfectly clear.

“I know. Although, let’s be real, we haven’t done much talking, huh?”

Wonwoo’s lips purse into an embarrassed smile; cheeks a pale pink when you finish changing and toss him your old panties.

“We can go on a date? Tomorrow? Sunday?” He offers - taking the fabric and putting it in his pants pocket for keeps.

Nodding, you reach for his hand, squeezing it before linking your fingers with his.

“Let’s figure it out when you’re not already 3 drinks in, hmm?”

You catch up and surpass Wonwoo’s level of drunkenness in no time; taking shots with Soonyoung before Wonwoo can finally catch you.

“H-hey!” The room spins as Wonwoo grabs your arm and you find yourself in the familiar empty kitchen as your eyes try to adjust to the brightness. “I was, hic, gonna drink another s-shot!”

“I know, but you need water and I’ve been trying to get you to drink some for the last 25 minutes.”

“Daddy, why’re you so meaaaaan…”

Wonwoo pauses, fingers frozen on the bottle cap before he turns to you. He hands you the bottle silently before reaching for his phone - eyes on you as you start to down the contents.

It only takes a few seconds before the vibrations start and you’re taken by surprise as you sputter and spill water all over the countertop and floor.

“Good girls know when to behave. And you’re not doing so well right now, sweetheart.”

Your thighs clamp together, fingertips almost crushing the plastic bottle as the vibrations send thrums of arousal pouring over your body in an instant. “Ah, I--hic, wh--what, but--but I…” The alcohol makes your body much more sensitive and your head feels hazy and overwhelmed with the toy pressed firmly against your clit. “Buh--but I just wanted to d-drink…”

“And I wanted you to drink some water and you ran to take shots, princess.”

Pouting, you shakily place the half empty bottle down onto the counter before you walk up to Wonwoo. You wrap your arms around his waist, quiet moans rolling off your lips as you stare up at his intoxicated expression. “Well, I was trying to until you decided to make me spill it...”

Wonwoo’s soft laughter reverberates in your chest and he’s quick to turn off the toy as you slump against him.

“Can we go back up to your room now, daddy?” Your voice is slightly slurred and muffled against his shirt; eyes fluttering shut as you inhale his addicting scent.

“Now where’d all the fun be in that, princess?”

Throughout the night, Wonwoo sporadically turns the toy on - making you jolt and latch onto the nearest person or object as your legs threaten to give out when he doesn’t always start off with the lowest setting.

“Whoa, you okay?” Mingyu asks, brows furrowed when your vice-like grip on his arm only tightens as Wonwoo sets the vibration speed higher. “You look like you’re gonna be sick. You might wanna slow down on those drinks.” Minghao nods in agreement, stepping closer to you to place a hand against your warm forehead.

“She’s kinda warm too. Must be all the alcohol.”

The pair nod to each other, convincing themselves it was all the drinks as Wonwoo shoots you a cocky smirk. You shift your weight to your left leg, making the toy sit perfectly against your clit in the process. The wetness in your panties was already unbearable and it was only getting worse.

“Fu--fuck… I’m okay, just---um, I think I need to go to the restroom.” You excuse yourself just as Wonwoo turns the toy off again and you pry your sweaty palm off of Mingyu’s arm before making a beeline for the restroom down the hall. Naturally, there’s a small line to get in and despite the fact you don’t really need to go, you figure splashing some water on your face would help you a little.

“My, my, who do we have here?”

It’s a voice you don’t recognize and when you lift your head to face the person in front of you, it’s a male you don’t know either. “Um��� Can I… Help you?” You ask meekly. He’s very obviously inebriated, eyes unfocused as he gives you a once over before licking his lips.

“D’you wanna go in together? You can help me in there if you’d like.”

You can only grimace - fully ready to give him a piece of your mind when an arm slings around your shoulder and you feel yourself being tucked protectively into Wonwoo’s side.

“Sorry, but she’s going to be helping me right now, won’t you, princess?”

The tenseness in Wonwoo’s jaw is ever present even when he’s situated between your trembling thighs - the tip of his tongue running through your soaked folds before he slightly pulls away.

“Wanted to play with you downstairs a little longer but, ah, well… Isn’t this more fun, princess?”

“A-ah, will they b-be mad you’re, mmh, ditching your own p-party though…?” Wonwoo grins, eyes peering up at your slightly unfocused stare and your swollen lips.

“I don’t even think they noticed I was gone, sweetheart.”

Wonwoo leans in, dragging his tongue from your clit to your entrance as slowly as possible as you whine and start to ease your fingertips into his hair. “Oh, d-daddy…” You tug slightly, pulling him closer towards you as you start to grind against his waiting tongue.

“Oh, god, it feels s-so good… Been w-waiting for you to, ah, t-touch me all night…” He moves slow, circling your clit with his tongue before sucking the nub into his mouth. Garbled noises spill from your lips - mixing in with soft pleas for him to do more.

But despite Wonwoo’s original annoyance of someone else trying to hit on you, that being the reason he even decided to leave the party, he finds it all melting away the second you start moaning his name in pleasure.

He dips his tongue into your entrance, collecting the wetness on it as he moans against your skin at how sweet you taste. It sends shivers up your spine - toes curling and hips bucking up towards his mouth as you chase the feeling. “Wonwoo… D-daddy, more… Ah, please, w-wanna feel your f-fingers too…”

“Fucked your pretty ‘lil cunt so good yesterday and you’re still so needy, huh, princess?” He reaches his hand in between your legs, popping his fingers into his wet mouth before running them through your folds.

“So greedy. Always want your cunt stuffed full of me, hmm? Whether it’s my cock or my fingers. Even just having my tongue on you is enough to get you to cum.” Once he deems his fingers wet enough, he positions his index and middle finger at your entrance before he starts to slowly sink them both inside of you. “Pretty ‘lil cunt is always ready to take my cock, isn’t it?”

You’re so wet that his fingers slide in easily; already curling into your g-spot as you cry loudly into the air. “O-oh, fuck! Daddy, please…!” Letting go of Wonwoo’s hair, you opt to tangle your fingers into his bed sheets - simultaneously spreading your quivering legs further apart when he starts to thrust his fingers into you at a moderate pace.

“Please? Please what, sweetheart? Use your words.”

Wonwoo scissors his fingers, stretching your pussy open as you throw your head back against his pillows. “Ngh, want y-you to fuck me, ah, d-daddy… Wanna feel your cock i-inside…” He smiles, leaning back in to pepper kisses on your inner thighs before you feel his tongue on your clit again.

He flicks the nub with the tip of his tongue at the same time he curls his fingers into your g-spot, sending your overly sensitive body hurtling towards an orgasm as you whine and mewl above him.

“D-daddy… I c-can’t, I--ah!”

Your walls clamp down hard onto his fingers; entire body trembling as you cum on his fingers and his tongue. And he works you through it - curling and wiggling his fingers inside your pussy to milk your orgasm.

“Mm, now you’re even more wet, princess~ Ready to take my cock?” Your head is buzzing, fingertips loosening their grip on the bed sheets when he slowly starts to pull his fingers from inside of you. “Mmhmm… Ah, hurry d-daddy… fuh--feels so e-empty…”

Wonwoo slowly sits up from between your legs; popping the wet digits into his mouth to lick off your wetness.

“So insatiable.”

You realize when Wonwoo positions his cock at your entrance that this is truly the first time you get to see his naked body since he’d come back.

“Daddy, I--”

The words get caught in your throat as he swiftly bottoms out in a singular thrust; his abs tightening and showing off his toned muscles as you feel yourself start to drool over his physique.

You tell yourself to ask him for pictures later, if you can remember.

The oversensitivity in your body makes you whimper and you’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist when he starts a moderately quick pace.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, sweetheart.” Admittedly, Wonwoo knows he won’t be able to hold out for very long himself - already too aroused to stave off his orgasm for much longer with your slick walls sucking his cock in deeper. “And you’re all mine, right?”

You nod back frantically, bleary eyes peering up at Wonwoo’s own blown out pupils. “Ngh, y-yes, fuck! I’m, hah, y-yours… God, I don’t wan’t a-anyone, ah, else, daddy…”

Your words go straight to his cock as he growls, “That’s right. Only daddy gives you what you want, right, princess? Only my cock satisfies you the way you want - filling you up to the brim and keeping you full, just how you like it.”

“Mmh, oh g-god, Wonwoo…” Whines pour from your mouth as you dig your heels into his lower back to press him closer into you. 

His cock grazes against your cervix as you mewl; back arching off the bed with how deep he was fucking you.

He uses a free hand to reach down to your clit, rubbing the swollen, sensitive nub between his fingertips as you immediately latch a shaky hand onto his forearm. “P-please, oh, mmh!”

Wonwoo smirks, watching as your eyes cross from the immense pleasure pouring over your body. “C’mon, princess. Wanna feel you cumming on my cock again before I fill this filthy ‘lil cunt of yours with cum.”

You’re reduced to rushed, broken cries of his name as the pressure builds inside your body quickly; only a loud gasp falling from your lips as the tension snaps for a second time, only this time, much stronger than the first.

“Fuck, that’s right, cum for me, baby.”

He works you through your orgasm, fucking you harder as you squirt all over his lower half and the bed sheets.

 Drool dribbles down your chin, thighs shaking uncontrollably when Wonwoo pulls all the way out to tap the head of his cock against your sensitive clit - making your body jolt with each slap before he’s quickly sheathing his throbbing cock back inside your tight cunt.

“God, you’re so tight and wet, princess. Bet you feel so fuckin’ good, huh?” Wonwoo licks his lips, “Gonna cum inside your pretty ‘lil cunt now, okay?”

You nod, lips parted in quiet moans when you feel his thick cock throbbing between your walls. “H-hurry, give it to me, d-daddy… Wanna feel y-you, ah, cumming inside my p-pussy…”

He only groans in return, letting the pleasure wash over him as his orgasm starts to crest. 

This time, you work him through it - clenching around his cock as he continues to thrust into you. “Mmh... suh--so good...” You slur out; head fuzzy as you bathe in the post orgasmic haze. 

And Wonwoo fares no better - fingertips digging into your skin as he rides out his high. 

“Oh... fuck.” 

When you come to, it doesn’t even fully process to you what’d happened.

“Sweetheart? Princess? Baby?” 

Wonwoo’s voice sounds muffled as you try to sit up, but he’s quick to slow you down as he sighs. “Ah, not--not so fast. You just passed out, I was... really scared for a second there, sweetheart.” He leans in close, checking your eyes before gently stroking your cheek. “Are you okay? Feeling faint? Does your head hurt? Or any part of you, really.” 

“I--I don’t even remember that happening... Just, you were cumming and then everything went... dark.” You shake the tension from your body - already noting that you were re-dressed in your panties and one of Wonwoo’s big shirts. “I... Well, I’m not drunk anymore?” 

He shakes his head as you laugh airily; trying to ease his nerves. “Baby, are you sure you’re okay?” The ‘baby’ makes your heart jump as you mumble a shy ‘mmhmm’ back. 

“Okay, now you really need to drink some water. I got you cleaned up while you were out and put you in some warm clothes. I’ll grab you something to eat from downstairs in a bit, I’m sure there’s boxes of pizza still down there.” Wonwoo grabs a water bottle from the nightstand, handing it to you as he sits by your side. “I haven’t even given you your actual gift and you already passed out once for the night.” 

Gently slapping his arm, you down half the water bottle before you pass it back to him. 

“Can I still have it or will it also make me pass out again?” 

This time, the two of you share a laugh as he gets up from the bed and walks over to his dresser to fetch a small box. “I mean, I guess it depends on how you see it?” 

He passes you the small box - slightly nervous when you start to inspect it. 

“You’re not trying to pull a Van Gogh moment with a cut off piece of ear or something are you?” Wonwoo laughs; loud and exaggerated. 

“Sadly not. But open it, I think you’ll like it.” 

You start opening the small box, pulling away the layers of printed tissue paper to reveal a set of two keys. “Keys?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

“To... The library?” 

Wonwoo snorts, doubling over in laughter as he slaps his leg. “N-no... A key for the frat house and a key... for my bedroom. So you can have access here whenever you want. Or need, really.” 

You’re taken by surprise as you dangle the keys in front of your face; cheeks warming up at the fact Wonwoo essentially gave you keys to his private space. “I--Wow, I--Wonwoo... This, wow... I don’t know what to say.” 

“Good or bad?” 

“G-good! Really really good but just... are you sure?” 

He nods back - shy eyes avoiding the way you stare at him. 

“I--I want to trust you more and I want you to trust me too. You don’t have to give me keys to your place or anything at all. I just want you to know that you have a place here if you want to study or just chill. I don’t have a big work load this semester so I’m in here a lot anyway. And let’s be real, we can’t alway mess around in the library, right?”

 He chuckles gently under his breath, “But we can play all we want in here.” 

You nod, mentally contemplating whether or not to do the same. 

I’ll think about it later, you tell yourself.

“What if wanna just sleep here with you, hmm? Nothin’ sexy.” You ask, twirling the keys around your finger. 

“You can do that. I’d like that actually. Why don’t we do that tonight, huh, baby? Stay the night and then we can go out for breakfast in the morning.”

Biting your lip, you place the keys back into the box before setting it on the nightstand. “I’d like that too.” 

Wonwoo gets up from the bed, dusting off his sweats before readjusting his glasses. 

“For now, I think you need to eat some cold pizza from downstairs. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay~”

[astonmartinii]

lemonade and star-crossed lovers, p1 (JJ Maybank)

Warnings: none yet, swearing? all core characters are aged up to 18, Rafe is 21. 

JJ Maybank x kook!reader (super super slow burn) (this will hopefully be a series) 

WC: 4.0k 

Growing up, Y/N always heard jokes about how the eldest daughter was just the mum in a different font. She never used to believe it, but that was when she had present and dedicated parents. Now, it just seemed that with every addition to the Miller family, the less interested Kevin and Julie Miller became. 

So here Y/N was, practically a mother to her three younger siblings. 

Dylan is only a year younger than Y/N but is no less of a hassle, especially when his useless friends decide to crash at their place. But considering they had the most hectic house of Dylan’s friendship group, the Miller household was usually the last option. 

Then there’s Anderson, he’s in his rebellious phase currently, getting to that point where he’s figured out that acting out could maybe get the attention of his parents. Though Y/N wasn’t sure how well his plans were working out. 

Peach is the youngest and practically attached to Y/N’s hip. To an untrained eye, Y/N often looked like a teen mum as she took Peach with her to the grocery shopping. In fact, Y/N was sure that if the kooks in Figure Eight didn’t know her family, they’d sneer at her with the same ignorance that clouded their entire lives. 

Y/N woke up glad - it’s the last day of school. Summer break looms. The idea of boneyard keggers and hot (but equally clueless) tourons, excited the girl. But she knew her summer reality would be looking after Peach, bailing Anderson out of jail and swatting away the affections of Dylan’s stupid friends. 

—————————————

Dylan is already awake when Y/N comes knocking, taking extra close care to his hair. 

“Oh, you’re up,” Y/N said, moving to ruffle his hair and grab the empty plate on his bedside cabinet. 

“Jesus, fuck Y/N, was that really necessary?” 

“Hey maybe if you spent more time on assignments than your hair you wouldn’t have to take so many summer classes - oh yeah, mum might not remember, but I do, and you will be going.” 

“But it’s summer, surely it’s a violation to my human rights to go to school.”

“I’m sure you’ll survive, and maybe when you finally pass this year, you’ll thank me. Breakfast in 10.” 

Dylan just flips his sister off, going back to admiring himself in the mirror. 

Y/N next goes to Peach’s room to find her awake and rummaging through her draws. 

“Hey, princess, what are you thinking for the last day? Third grade finished already, you’ll be my age soon, wheeling me into the retirement home.” 

Peach erupts into giggles, pulling out a little pink summer dress and grabbing her pink sandals to complete the ensemble. 

“All pink, we love. Breakfast in 10, alright, don’t want you to be late for the last day.” 

Anderson’s room is last, Y/N doesn’t bother knocking on her parent’s door. Kevin is probably already down on Judy - his beloved boat. The room is typical of a 14 year old boy, it stunk, his weed paraphernalia was badly hidden and there was a lump of pillows under the cover instead of a boy. 

Shrugging, Y/N picked up the dirty mugs in his room and moved downstairs. She’d been awake nearly an hour now but was still unsure of what to make for breakfast. Opening the fridge gave her the only possible answer, leftover pizza from the previous night and maybe a porridge pot, though considering there were only two siblings to account for, it would do. 

Dylan and Peach joined her in the kitchen shortly after, each taking a slice or two of pizza. 

“No Anderson and pizza for breakfast? Watch out, we'll be calling CPS as soon as we’re outside.“ 

“You don’t know where the bug is? Why does that boy insist on giving me early onset cardiac issues?” 

“Don’t take it too to heart, I’m sure he’ll turn up by the second period.” 

“Okay, go to school now. Dylan, are you okay to drop Peach off, I’ll pick her up.” 

Dylan nods and ushers the youngest out of the door and to his car. Y/N lets out a sigh when she sees them leave the driveway and makes her way to the back door. Through the sliding door she can see her dad, Kevin on Judy instructing John B, the kid who worked on the boat, what to do. Y/N puts two slices of pizza on a plate and grabs an apple and ventures out to the dock. 

“Morning Y/N.” 

“Morning, John B, can I interest you in an apple? It’s all we have I’m afraid.” 

“No worries, any breakfast is breakfast when you’re a pogue.”

“Oh John B, you know I don’t believe in all that sub-par class warfare bullshit.” 

“Of course you don’t, but that’s very easy to say when you’re on the other side.” 

“Touche.” 

Y/N doesn’t say anymore, but moves to give her dad his breakfast. She liked John B and hoped he didn’t see her like the other kooks. Sure Rafe Cameron frequented her house, but she’s nothing like him. 

“Thanks, squirt.” 

Despite the nickname, Kevin was absent as ever, not moving to look at her. 

“You’re children are off to school, don’t worry.” 

Silence. 

“Oh thank you Y/N, I really don’t know what we’d do without you! You’re such a gem, you’re really unappreciated and we don’t deserve you! Thanks dad, I really needed to hear that. Are you coming later?”

“Where?” Kevin grunted, with pizza in his mouth. 

“My graduation? Did you forget that was today?” 

The awkward silence was enough of an answer for Y/N. 

“Sorry squirt, I promised to go to the mainland to pick something up for your mother.” 

With that, Y/N stormed off Judy, towards the house and into her room. When she sat down on her bed she could think about what just happened. She knew her parents didn’t care about her, but missing their first child’s graduation for a small errand to the mainland? 

Now that the house was quiet again, she could get ready - she was graduating today and as valedictorian she wants to look her best. Julie, her mum, is in Washington on some mysterious job venture, Y/N wasn’t told until she came down in the morning a few days ago and saw Julie with her suitcases. She guessed that one positive of her parents’ absenteeism is her ability to steal Julie’s expensive jewelry to wear. 

Y/N looked in the mirror, she did clean up nice when she wanted to. Her lengthy hair is in a half-up, half-down style, with minimal makeup and a red knee-length dress. The dress hugged her figure and complemented her graduation gown perfectly. Too bad none of her family would be there to see it. She knew deep down that Peach and Dylan would’ve attended if possible, and Anderson would maybe even make an appearance, especially if there was food involved. 

Y/N put her matching red heels on and grabbed her cap from her closet. After one final look in the mirror and putting her printed speech into her bag, the young girl made her way down the stairs. 

To her surprise, none other than John B sat in her kitchen drinking a glass of water. 

“You clean up nice kook,” said John B, a smug smirk on his face. 

“Thank you, John. Don’t you have graduation today?” 

 “Eh, yeah. I’m just going for the food though, school isn’t really my thing…” John B looked closer at her cap. “I’m practically the opposite to you Miss Valedictorian”. 

“Hmm, well at least someone in this house noticed, thank you John B. I’m going now, I didn’t notice your van out front, you need a lift to yours?” 

“Is that really on your way, wouldn’t want Miss Valedictorian to be late to her own event, you got a speech ready?” 

“I do as a matter of fact, but I want to be just on time, minimise the time people have to ask about the whereabouts of my parents. So, do you want a lift or not?” 

“Sure thing, Miss Valedictorian.” 

Y/N doesn’t acknowledge the nickname, but secretly loved it, it was a joke, but at least someone was appreciating her achievements. Peach would, she knows, but she’s not really at the point of understanding what it means and the others really are wildcards.

She led John B out to her small car, a baby blue Beetle. The boy smiled at her choice in car, 

“I’m sure that a kook like you could afford better than this.”

“Don’t insult Shelby in her presence, weren’t you ever taught manners? Now get it and give me directions.” 

The drive was fun, not that John B would tell Y/N that. He enjoyed her music choice, Mac Miller blasting from her speakers and the windows were fully rolled down, damned be her hair. 

Y/N neared the chateau and came to a stop. There were a few people sitting on the porch, looking over in confusion. 

“Yo, what’s with the kook-mobile, John B?” The blonde yelled from his seat on the beaten-up couch. 

When John B only turned to Y/N to say thank you, the interest peaked on the porch. The little gang of pogues moved towards the car. 

“John B, I didn’t realise your job came with a taxi service, why did I have to drop you off this morning?” The blonde, once again. 

“Lay off JJ, this is Y/N Miller, she’s the daughter of Kevin, the guy whose boat I work on. She’s on her way to her graduation and offered me a lift.” 

“Since when are kook graduations on the Cut?” The other boy interjected. 

Y/N decided to speak up, “if I knew an act of kindness would cause so much strife, I’ll just let you walk home next time. Now, I do have somewhere to be, so it was nice to see you, John B. I'm sure I’ll see you again this week.” 

“Bye Miss Valedictorian, good luck with your speech,” John B said, getting out of Shelby. 

“You’re the valedictorian?” Kiara finally spoke, face shocked. 

“Yeah, surprising what happens when you show up for school right?” Y/N snapped, angrier than she intended. 

“Oh yeah, sorry. I guess I thought that maybe Sarah would get it, especially if Ward has anything to do with it.” Kiara grimaced, she didn’t mean to offend the Miller girl. 

“You can’t buy the valedictorian title, well I’m sure you could, but not to flex, but my grades were miles better. If we’re being really ironic though, Ward technically does pay for the valedictorian,” Y/N said with a smile, not meaning to brandish her academic success in their faces. 

A chorus of “huhs?” from the pogues surrounding her car told Y/N that they weren’t catching her drift. 

“I’m Ward Cameron’s assistant. Sorry, I didn’t make that very clear.” 

“You have a job, but you’re a kook?” the blonde, JJ, said. 

“Yes, blondie, some of us do have to look out for ourselves, didn’t your parents tell you not to judge a book by its cover. I’ll see you around. Bye John B.” 

Y/N backed out of the road, heading back to Figure Eight, with her graduation starting in 10 minutes, she had massively overstayed her welcome at John B’s. If she weren’t so busy, Y/N always thought she’d like to be friends with John B and his crew, they had an unmistakable family bond that Y/N craved. She loves her siblings but they are still grappling with the idea of give and take, mainly fixating on the taking aspect. 

Y/N pulled up to school, and took out her phone, dropping a text to Anderson pleading with him to at least make it to two classes today. Even with her phone safely away in her bag, Y/N couldn’t quite bring herself to get out of the car. Happy families surrounded her everywhere she looked, she couldn’t handle the stares when she walks in alone. Well, it’s now or never she says to herself. 

Walking isn’t as bad as she suspects, Mr Morgan, her English teacher, meets her at the door and takes her to her seat, explaining the mechanisms of the ceremony and when she’ll make her speech.  

The hall, however, is the reminder that Y/N was dreading. The two seats she had booked for her parents sat empty, standing out like a sore thumb in the packed hall. She made her way to the student section with her head down. However, before Y/N could sit she was apprehended by an excitable Sarah Cameron. 

“Y/N! Hi! I heard you’re valedictorian, well done! I don’t know how you managed, with all the work and your siblings, you really are amazing.” 

“Thanks, Sarah.” 

The words sting, despite their pure intentions. She’s a kook, she shouldn’t have to work, and she should have parents who care for her and her siblings, but some things just aren’t meant to be, clearly. Y/N sat in her assigned seat and willed the ceremony to go fast, though she wasn’t looking too forward to her speech. The diversion to the chateau meant that Y/N had no time to look over it again. 

The ceremony started and the hall quietened down. Principal Stoney started her opening speech, basking in the spotlight when the hall door bursts open and interrupts. In the doorway stands Anderson. His hair is disheveled and the clothes are torn, probably from the nightly activities with the skateboard he held in his hand. The boy scanned the hall, eyes falling on the empty seats with the name Miller and then Y/N herself. He gives her a small wave and pushes past the Figure Eights families to the seats. 

Principal Stoney just restarts, a slight bewildered look on her face. 

When it was time for her speech, Y/N didn’t even feel real, like she floated to the stage and was possessed. Her speech went well from what she could gather, Mr Morgan gave her a thumbs up and Anderson hollered, much to the dismay of the families around him. But he was even worse when she received her diploma. 

As families spilled onto the field for fancy food and photo opportunities, Y/N wrangled Anderson to the side before he could raid the food stalls. 

“Anderson, what the fuck? First you didn't come home last night and then crash my graduation?” 

“Hey, I’m sorry about last night, me and the boys got carried away skating and I crashed on Oscar’s couch. I’m sorry, I should’ve called. And as for now, you think I’m going to let my smart-ass VALEDICTORIAN sister graduate without anyone being here to holler? You’re dead wrong.” 

The sentiment fills Y/N’s heart with joy and tears threaten to spill. Anderson’s never been good with feelings, it was nice to know that he did care. 

“Mum and dad can go fuck themselves, if they don’t see how great you are then they’re blind.” 

“Thanks, bug. It means a lot. Now don’t eat too much, people are probably already annoyed that you’re here.” 

Anderson shrugs, he couldn’t care less what they thought, he was here to eat and show off his sister. 

“Congratulations Y/N!” 

The voice of Y/N’s boss, Ward Cameron, was easily identifiable. Y/N puts on her confident face and turns to see the whole Cameron brigade, minus Wheezie. 

“Thank you, Mr Cameron.”

“You know, I just don’t know how you get it done, working for us and dealing with your siblings…” Rose says, the last part fading out as she watches Anderson walk back to his sister with his arms piled high with fancy horderves. 

“It’s tough, yeah, but what wouldn’t you do for your family?” 

“Of course, of course, sorry for any implications, where is the old man, I know Julie is off on business, but Kevin has to be proud, I didn’t see him in the hall?” Ward’s voice feigned sincerity, but the Miller siblings saw right through it. Before Anderson could respond, Y/N replied. 

“Dad is also doing business on the mainland, at the last minute. He’s devastated, really,” it's not convincing, even to her. Y/N can tell she hasn’t convinced the Camerons either. Sarah gives her a sad look, Rose attempts to mirror her step-daughter but fails, Ward looks slightly smug, like he’s trying to hide it but Rafe doesn’t even try to hide it like his dad, a massive smirk on his face. 

“What are your plans for the summer Miller?” Y/N is surprised when it’s Rafe who asks the question. 

“Well, I’ll be working for your dad, if he’ll have me, I still have my volleyball coaching in the tourist season and there’s never a dull moment with these around,” Y/N puts her arm around Anderson. 

Looking for a quick exit, she looks at her watch. 

“Oh, if we go now, you can still catch your last two periods. Kids, am I right?” She gestures at Rose and Ward, “we’ll be off now, I’ll see you next week?” 

The Camerons nod as Y/N pulls Anderson away and towards the car park. But before they can fully escape, they’re stopped by Mr Morgan. 

“You think you can leave without a photo and a proper goodbye, I didn’t think you were that kind of girl, Miller.” 

“Of course not, Mr Morgan, here,” she hands Anderson her phone, “take a picture please.” 

Anderson does so, taking about 50 at once. 

“Okay, okay, let's get one of you two, you can’t not have a proper graduation picture, especially not when you’re valedictorian.” 

Mr Morgan takes the phone and smiles at the siblings. When the impromptu photoshoot ends, Y/N is glad, despite it pushing back her escape. 

“Y/N, on a serious note, you are always welcome in my classroom, you’ve been a pleasure, and don’t tell anyone, but you were my favourite. And you, I hope you’ll be just as good next year sir,” he says turning to Anderson, “although considering you’re here and not in class doesn’t bode well.” 

“Thank you, sir, really. But you are completely right, and that’s why we’re bouncing now, so he can get two at least two periods.” 

Mr Morgan smiles at the two when they start to run to the car. He’s always felt sad for the eldest Miller, and her parents absence did not go unnoticed. 

------------------------------------------------

“I’ll see you later, I know you guys will probably crash a kegger, but at least come home before you go?” 

“Yeah, yeah, okay, who knows maybe I’ll see you there?” 

Anderson laughs and gets out of the car, he knows his sister won’t especially when Peach will be home. Y/N watches him go into the building and stays a couple minutes to make sure he doesn’t sneak back out when he thinks she’s gone. 

But Y/N barely gets time to breathe, as she’s down to the elementary school to pick up Peach. The girl in all pink is waiting with a gaggle of friends and shrieks when she sees the blue car. 

“Y/N! Y/N! I got the “most improved” in drama!” 

Y/N opens the door and picks up Peach, spinning her round and congratulating her. 

“Well done, bubs. This calls for a celebration, it’s the first day of summer and the boys won’t be out for another couple of hours - what do you want to do?”

Peach doesn’t even need a second to think. 

“Lemonade stand!” 

Huh? Y/N was prepared for an answer closer to maybe a princess party or surfing lessons, but a lemonade stand? 

“Are you sure?” 

“You said we could do whatever I want!” 

“Okay, okay, let’s go then we’ve got a lot to do.” 

Satisfied with getting her way, Peach got in the car and demanded that the next stop was the craft store. 

-------------------------------

The next 90 minutes were gruelling. Peach spared no expense, Y/N was lucky that she still had the credit card Julie gave her. But she knew it would all be worth it. And it was. 

Peach chose a spot right in the middle of the beach and the stall was already making a profit. Y/N knew kooks just couldn’t resist the temptation to look good and what was better than giving a generous tip to a child’s lemonade stand? 

But with a successful kook-trap came the kook assholes. Namely Rafe, Topper and Kelce. 

“Three lemonades please. Apricot, right?” Rafe said with a smirk. 

“You know it’s Peach asshole.” 

“That’s a bad word, Y/N,” Peach mumbled, clearly upset about being called apricot of all things.

“Yeah that’s a bad word, Miller, you should listen to Apricot a little more.” 

“Maybe, you should listen to your college professors, oh wait, you dropped out, my bad, must be a bit of an open wound judging by the look on your face. I bet daddy wasn’t impressed.” 

“Excuse me, you bitch, how dare you talk to me like that.” 

“Run along, lap dog, we don’t need your money.” 

Rafe goes to say something but Topper and Kelce hold him back. 

“Bro, don’t get it shit with your pops over a fucking lemonade,” Topper warned. 

With a final “fuck off”, Rafe Cameron stalked away to his car, his gang of cowards following, but not without Topper placing a crisp $20 bill in the tip jar. Peach mumbled and thank you and Y/N just nodded to Topper, too tired to say anything more. 

And if her afternoon couldn’t get any worse, the prickly blonde from this morning strolled over to the stand. 

“I’ll have four lemonades please.” 

Peach gasped and accepted his money right away, getting to work on the drinks. 

“I’ve seen many a kook-trap in my time, Miller, but not many operated by Kooks themselves. Impressive ingenuity.” 

“Thanks - JJ, was it? Peach here won “most improved” in her drama class and this is what she wanted to do in celebration” 

“Cute, Miller, didn’t take you as a softy earlier.” 

Peach announces that she’s finished with the pogue’s drinks, he puts another $5 in the tip jar and grabs the drinks. 

“Miller, there’s a kegger at the boneyard tonight, wanna come? I’m sure at least one of your brothers will crash.” 

“Sorry JJ, someone’s gotta look after the little one, maybe another time, if you can stand being around a kook for that long.” 

“I think I can make an exception, especially if they look like you Miller,” he winks, “boneyard tonight, if you change your mind.” 

Y/N blushed, but she knew she couldn’t, she couldn’t leave a nine year old at home, even if Kevin was there, there was no guarantee that Peach would be fed and given adequate attention. 

“He’s pretty, you should go.” 

“Peach, honey, you know I can’t, I can’t leave you at home.” 

“But I could go to Jenny’s, she’s having a sleepover tonight, I forgot to ask earlier, I got too excited about the lemonade stand.” 

“Okay, you can go to Jenny’s, but promise not too much candy?”

“Only if you promise to go with him tonight.” 

Peach was proving to be just as mischievous as her brothers. 

“Okay fine.” 

“Go tell him then.”

“Huh?” 

“I won’t believe you unless you go tell him now that you'll be there!”

 Y/N groans, but gets up to follow the blonde. As she nears, she shouts, 

“Hey JJ! I’ll be there tonight, at the boneyard, I’ll be there.” 

“Didn’t take too long for you to change your mind then, am I just that irresistible?” 

“No? What? Of course not! It’s just Peach - she’s a master manipulator, and she’s only nine!”

“Sure, Miller, if that’s what you want me to believe, I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

Y/N turned, she should cringe, but she finds herself blushing as she walks back to Peach. 

“Don’t say anything, missy, you’ve done enough, let’s pack up and get you ready for Jenny’s. You young ones are such troublemakers, damn.”  

A/N: I am not American, so I hope that the graduation stuff makes sense, from someone who has no real clue what happens there lol  

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt. 8

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: none? Length: 2.1k Notes: I’m sorry, Cyn, I know I said there would be smut but I was just enjoying the slow burn too much. And I just feel like these two NEED this. Not me nervous to write about his p in her v, nooope. Also, I’m wine drunk and did not spell check this bitch, have fun with that. Divider by @firefly-graphics

Series MASTERLIST

The day of the fair had finally arrived and you woke with more than a little excitement churning in your stomach. Multiple meetings at the community center had given you a chance to meet more of the town's population and you'd gained a deeper appreciation for them. Small towns afforded very few entertainments, which had resulted in some of the older kids, driven by boredom, getting into trouble. Minor things like graffiti and trespassing, but the community knew if they weren't careful that things could escalate. So, instead of making the kids feel judged or harshly reprimanded, the town was working towards better programs and facilities to keep them busy.

It was an unseasonably beautiful Autumn day, the kind that carried memories of Summer on the warm breeze. Knowing that cold and snow were just around the corner, these "second summers" made people act a little more recklessly and freely than they usually might. You had a feeling that the crowds tonight were going to be bigger and rowdier than anyone could have hoped for.

Jacquie had stopped by later to offer you a ride to town but you had just sent your baking with her, insisting that you wanted to enjoy the sunshine and bicycle in.

Once you'd entered the main square you were blown away by the effort from the town. Banners, balloons, streamers, and posters were everywhere. A stage for musical acts and a ticket booth had been built and donated by Hank's Hardware, food carts selling anything and everything you could deep-fry were scattered down every road. Carnival games had been set up in rows down multiple, closed-off, streets, as well as people setting up face-painting, balloon animals, and a smaller version of the Saturday Farmer's Market. The high school football field had even been converted to a tiny amusement park with a Ferris Wheel, carousel, and swing ride.

It was still early, and there was still a lot to do before the fair would be open, but the excitement was already palpable. After making sure your pies had been marked down for the auction, you beelined for the water gun race game that you and a lovely woman named Heather had been assigned to operate. 

Too preoccupied with making sure you had the water tanks filled, the pumps were working, and your ticket box was in place you didn't notice how some of the other volunteers were acting strangely, making sidelong glances and meaningful head nods. 

Nothing seemed amiss once Heather had joined you. In fact, you were getting along with her so well the two of you had already made plans to meet for coffee the next day.

Soon, the fair was in full swing. The games booths were a popular stop with families and you were having the time of your life cheering for every child who tried their hand at your game. 

Eventually, there was a natural lull in the festivities as fair-goers drifted from the games towards the food and live entertainment. You were just suggesting making a quick snack run when Heather's phone rang. 

"Sorry, one sec, it's my husband," she grimaced, holding her finger up to stop you from leaving.

In a bid to give her a modicum of privacy, you tallied up the tickets and bunched them into coils for easier counting later. Heather's normally calm voice rose in pitch and urgency, drawing your attention back to her in time to see a look of alarm and annoyance cross her face.  

"What do you mean, burned? Like, burned burned? There's smoke?! Oh, honey, what on earth..." she paused, listening to her husband's voice some more, giving you an eye roll that clearly said 'Men. They're hopeless' and interrupted whatever he had been saying. "Alright, alright. It's slowing down here so I can run home."

Putting her phone back in her purse, Heather turned to you with a huff. "He's burnt dinner, and it sounds like my skillet is toast, too. I'm sorry to do this to you but I need to run to the store and bring dinner home. I've got the only car, so they're stuck."

Assuring her you could manage on your own, you shooed her away and told her to take her time.

Walking backward to wave goodbye, Heather kept spouting numerous apologies and promising she'd make it up to you on your coffee date. Giving one last smile she spun around and immediately ran into old Mrs. Crawley who was being escorted by no other than a very bored and trapped-looking Frankie Morales.

"Oh! Mrs. Crawley! So sorry!" She began, steadying the white-haired octogenarian, "I'm being called home, ditching my post, gotta run, bye!" With that, she was gone, weaving her way through the crowd of people.

Mrs. Crawley had glanced over at you when Heather had mentioned having to leave and was currently shuffling her way towards you, Frankie in tow.

"Frankie, be a dear and help this beautiful lady out while Heather is away."

It wasn't a question but you still felt the need to speak up, giving Frankie an out if he wanted it.

"I can manage-"

"But what about your-"

You'd both spoken at the same time and stopped mid-way through to let the other go first. Mrs. Crawley broke the silence instead.

"My hip is feeling much better, and I think I'll just make my way over to the bandstand," she gave Frankie a meaningful look accompanied by a rather sharper-than-expected slap to his cheek, "alone."

You both watched her walk over to the stage, stopping to wave at Jacquie and Agnes where they were organizing the bake sale.

"What on earth is going on," you thought to yourself while staring daggers at Jacquie from across the street. This had zero effect on her, she was just sending you lewd winks and had the audacity to give Mrs. Crawley a thumbs up. That conniving little-

"Emmmm... hi."

His voice, sounding uncertain and shy, brought your attention back to Frankie. Taking a moment to soak in his presence, you noticed how worn down he looked. "Good," thought the petty part of your brain, but she was easily squashed by the rest of it appreciating the rest of him.

Tight jeans hugging his thighs, the buttons on his shirt working overtime where the material pulled across his back and chest, his hair was long and getting shaggy but when you saw the curls peeking out from under his baseball cap you had to fight the sudden urge to run your fingers through it.

Your eyes traveled up his neck, noting the way his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, and across his face. He'd trimmed his beard, filthy thoughts of how it would feel on your skin flashed in your head.

Finally meeting his eyes with your own, you had to take a breath before replying.

"It's nice to see you, Frankie." Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, drawing his gaze "I guess we should talk-"

You were cut short by rowdy laughter and a crowd of people bustling onto the street, another wave of ticket-holders were coming to try their luck and win the huge teddy bear prize each game boasted.

For the next hour, you were kept too busy to talk more than what was necessary for running the booth. You used the time to gather your thoughts and make a list of what you wanted to say, how you wanted to say it, and how you were going to start the conversation casually.

Frankie wasn't sure how he had ended up as Mrs. Crawley's crutch. One minute he was dropping off a crate of fruit for the apple bobbing contest and the next he was walking at a snail's pace listening to the old woman reminiscing about her long-dead husband. 

She was sweet, and he didn't mind the slow meander around the square. No, it was the subject matter that had bugged him. After his divorce was finalized and his daughter was taken from him, which he could see now was the right thing to do at the time, Frankie had accepted the fact that he was alone.

Just him, his trees, and the memories of what he did to end up this way.

Then, you had come along. The first woman to catch his attention in five damn years. It wasn't just your beauty, or your easy smile, or the curves of your body. It was your goodness, your innocence, your ability to worm your way into everyone's hearts and not even know it. 

Listening to Mrs. Crawley and the love she had shared made his chest ache, knowing he'd never deserve it himself he still found himself longing for the same. The first moment he had laid eyes on you, it was like a movie about his life had played in flashes in his mind. The meet-cute at the market, romancing you with thoughtful dates like picnics and driving up to the city’s museums and theatre. Getting married, growing the business, then growing your family. It had all played out in a split second but the impression it had left was immeasurable. 

Then, he'd opened his mouth and ruined the moment. Crashed into your truck and ruined the moment. Spooked and burned you, ruining the moment. Gained your trust, broke down your walls, and then left like a coward in the morning and ruined it.

Shaken by his inward reflecting when Mrs. Crawley was jostled, Frankie froze in place once his eyes were directed to where you stood. You were glaring over his shoulder and refusing to meet his eyes, understandably, yet he still felt his chest contract with the hope you'd look at him and smile. 

The way your gaze had eventually taken him in, once he'd been abandoned by a suddenly spry-looking elder, had flared that longing back into a roaring flame. The sudden need to work the booth gave him plenty of time to plan his speech: begging for forgiveness and admitting to the way he felt. While his mind was busy planning his speech, his heart was bursting at how comfortably and effortlessly the two of you worked with each other, like you’d been doing it for years.

Heather returned, strolling over with a barely concealed smile on her face, not looking at all like she'd just come back from a domestic emergency. This whole town could win an Oscar for their performance tonight, it was mildly humiliating but you knew they were acting out of love.

She thanked Frankie profusely for standing in for her and wouldn't take no for an answer after suggesting the two of you go and enjoy yourselves for a bit. Glancing at Frankie you shrugged your shoulders and made a face that said "why not?". He smiled and nodded back, grabbing your bag and slinging it over his shoulder before joining you on the bustling street.

You walked in comfortable silence for a while, relishing just being near each other and absorbing the jubilant energy surrounding you.

Frankie bought you cotton candy and you made him belly laugh when you showed him the few bottles of cider you'd smuggled in your bag. Seeing the way his face lit up, how he exposed that delicious neck when he threw his head back, hearing the joyous rumble from deep within, sent a realization slamming into you so suddenly it made you stumble.

You loved him.

You might not be in love with him, not yet anyway, but there was a lightness and a warmth in your heart and he had put it there.

Frankie had grabbed your arm when you had stumbled and when you didn't pull away from his touch, his hand slid down your arm and his fingers wove their way through yours.

Walking like this, hand in hand, you found yourselves at the rides.

"I've never been on a Ferris Wheel," he admits to you, craning his head upwards to stare at the top carriage.

Dragging your eyes away from his neck, again, it took your brain a moment to acknowledge what he’d said. "What?!" You expressed with mock horror, already making your way toward the ride’s gate, "Then let's remedy that!"

"I'm- uh this is stupid," he was barely moving with you and adjusted his hat, a nervous tick you'd noticed, "I'm scared of heights."

This admission stopped you in your tracks.

"Frankie." You deadpanned, gripping his hand and pulling on it to emphasize your words, "You're. A. Pilot."

He groaned and you were sure you could see a blush creeping up from beneath his collar, "I know! I know. It's just that, up there?" He stops with a sigh, gazing at the stars wistfully, "I'm in control. I trust myself."

"Do you trust me?" You ask him softly gripping his hand between the both of yours.

Frankie gazed at your face for a breath, not in a way that made you think he was hesitating, it was more like he was pausing so you knew the full weight of his words.

"I trust you with everything."

PART NINE

TAGS: If you’d like to be added, send me an ask or a message! If you’re on the list please interact, I love getting your feedback, hearing your predictions, and all the “these two idiots!” comments 

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[duckymcdoorknob]

Momo and Her Stoic Canvas

Warning! This is a tickle Drabble!

Ships: Platonic TodoMomo

Warnings: Tickles

Prompt: Momo runs out of places to scribble down her notes, so she uses Todoroki’s hands and arms Unfortunately for her, it’s a huge Todoroki Tickle Hot Spot™. The poor boy fights literal demons to keep quiet.

“Oh great.” Momo Yaoyorozu whispered with gritted teeth. She swiftly dug through her school bag. “No no no no no.” She muttered. She was all out of paper. Her old tests were locked away in her dorm, along with her extra notecards.

The black haired girl searched hastily in her desk. Hoping that she had left a gift for her future self...? Nope. No such luck.

Momo had to think and had to think fast. Aizawa banned quirks from the classroom, but he could understand... but then again, she would be lectured for being unprepared and-

The mellowest snore broke her from her thoughts. That’s it!

“ahem.. Todoroki.” Momo whispered, gently tapping the bi-colored boy’s shoulder with her pencil. “Wake up, fool.”

Shoto opened his eyes to see Momo practically frothing at the mouth. “Shi- Yaoyorozu? Wha-“

“No time to waste. I’ve already missed two minutes of lecture. Give me your arm please.” Momo begged one a hushed tone.

The boy obliged, hesitantly stretching his right arm across the desk toward her. Shoto Todoroki would soon regret all decisions he had made since his birth in the following moment.

Momo gently gripped his arm and rolled up his sleeve. Shoto tensed as he felt a scratchy pen tip gliding against his arm. He balled his left hand into a fist and took deep breaths. To his demise, she took her time writing.

“Ngh- Yaoyorozu... c-can’t you write s-somewhere e-else?” Todoroki couldn’t help the smile forming on his lips.

“No! I’ve missed too much! You can wash it off when we get back to the dorms.” Momo bit back in a hushed voice.

The girl continued to agonizingly write her notes down on Shoto’s arm. The boy gently smacked the desk with his free hand as snickers leaked from his lips.

When Momo ran out of space on Todoroki’s arm, she moved to his hand.

“HRGNH- Momo.” Shoto hissed.

“What?” She hissed in return.

“U-use my ohohohohother ahahaharm.” Hushed giggles interrupted his, usually emotionless, demands.

“What’s so funny? I ran out of space!”

“Nohohoho. Thehehe pehehehehen.” Todoroki bit his lip, should he tell her?

“Well spit it out! I don’t like to be laughed at, Shoto.” Momo said as she turned to him to glare.

Upon turning, she noticed that the bi-colored boy was breathing heavily. His free hand was slapped over his mouth and his eyes were squeezed shut.

“Mohohohohomohohoho.” Shoto begged as she started writing on the base of his thumb, “tihihihicklehehehes.”

Momo smiled warmly, shaking her head. Her face, clad in a pleased look, seemed to relax. “Only you Shoto.” The girl let out an amused scoff, “only you would have ticklish palms.”

Shoto’s already red face flushed deeper, causing his breath to hitch.

“Uh Todoroki...” Momo said sweetly, “I’m uh... out of room.”

The bi-colored boy sighed heavily and slowly offered her his left arm. Great. This one was even more sensitive.

Of course Momo didn’t mind. This poor kid needed to smile. She began to write, causing the latter to release an audible squeak.

“I need quiet in my room please.” Aizawa’s voice rang through both of their ears. Luckily, none of their classmates turned around.

Momo slowed her writing pace, making sure to spell every word right and stretch out abbreviations.

“Y-Yaoyorozu. I h-have extra p-paper.” Shoto’s right eye was squeezed shut.

“No shush. I’ve already turned your right arm into a masterpiece. Let me finish.”

The girl glanced at the clock, thankfully class was almost over.

“All right class, that’s it for today. Finish copying these notes and you’re free to wait for the bell.” Aizawa turned his attention to his students.

His gaze immediately locked into Momo, who was hastily scribbling down the contents of the board. Then to Todoroki, who was vibrating in his seat trying to keep quiet.

He let out a fond breath of air with the subtlest grin.

Momo moved to Todoroki’s hand and the latter strained both his voice and muscles.

“Pleahehehese lehehehet Mehehehe gohohoho.” Shoto spat at Momo through gritted teeth.

“Not yet! Almost done. Last few sentences.”

Momo slowed even more, ensuring she messed up to gain a chance to scribble out her mistake.

“HGRNH- MOHOHOHOHOMOHOHOHO.” Shoto’s hushed laugh was getting louder. The boy bit down on his lip and gently tapped the table with his other hand.

“THERE! Done.” Momo stated proudly, capping her pen.

Just then the bell rang, the two heroes-in-training moved to grab their things as the classroom cleared out.

“Yaoyorozu, Todoroki.” Aizawa was standing by them, “next time you need more paper. Just tell me. You won’t get in trouble.”

“Y-yessir.” Shoto responded bashfully as a blush crept all the way to his ears.

“Come on you. I have to copy these down onto paper back in the dorms.” Momo grabbed the one spot on Todoroki’s wrist that was lacking her impeccable handwriting.

Aizawa shook his head with a fond smile. He loved his kids, there was no doubt about it.

[nuesae]

Vines and Mushrooms part 1

I know I should work on my other AUs (mainly the one for No Face) but take this 

Tw: mention of vore (barely mentioned), panic attack's, dehumanization

word count: 2099

-------------------

It had been a normal day; George woke up ate breakfast and headed to the village market to get some more food and supplies. Everything was going fine he chatted with some of the merchants having a few laughs but other than that everything seemed fine.

There was suddenly a huge boom and the sound of trees snapping like twigs. George dropped the basket that had his goods in it. He knew only one thing that could make a noise like that, a giant. he snapped his head up to see the giant, it had smashed a few buildings clearly having the intention to destroy the village.  the giant had a green hoodie on, and black fingerless gloves, with a white smiling mask covering its face.

“Run!” George heard multiple people yell, however, he was frozen he stared at the Giant as it destroyed buildings and used vines to keep the guards away from itself. George froze as the giant white mask turned to him. He couldn’t breathe the Giant took a step in his direction he was screaming inside to run but his legs betrayed him. He collapsed to the ground in a ball hoping the giant wouldn’t hurt him. A shadow overtook him, he peeked through his hands seeing a giant gloved hand coming to grab him, he quickly closed his eyes again covering his face with his arms. This was it; this was how he would die, at the hands of a giant that didn’t care about his little life. He felt fingers wrap around his body he was cupped in the giant’s hand. He let out a small whimper as the warm flesh and fabric wrapped around him. He slowly opened his eyes looking at the Giant mask in front of him, wondering why he wasn’t dead yet. He opened his mouth wanting to speak but no words came out. An arrow then whizzed through the air clinking against the giant’s mask. The giant looked down at the person who had shot the arrow before George could blink an arm made of vines came out of the giant’s back slammed down on the ground. His blood went cold as the vines were covered in blood; he knew he was next. Just a stain on the giant’s fist. The giant looked back at him, it’s going to kill me or eat me, or- before George could think any more on what the giant would do, he was cupped to the giant’s chest. He could hear the whoosh of lungs and the beating heart and, fuck, the growling of its stomach. He could feel the giant run, he hoped away from the village. He hoped that the giant would at least not hurt anyone else.

  Dream had initially come to the village to destroy it and maybe get a snack or two. He was in the process of smashing a few buildings when he saw a person who wasn’t running, he assumed out of fear. He started walking toward them as soon as he got close, they collapsed curling into a ball. This made him smile knowing how scared this one was. They’re just making my job easy. He picked them up with a slightly rough grip having them in the palm of his hand, pulling them up, so they were eye level. That’s when he noticed the red and white cap on the little mushroom person, he frowned knowing he wouldn’t be able to eat this one. He then felt a small tick on his mask, quickly looking down to see a person with a bow he used one of his vine arms to smash them to a pulp. He looked back to the little person in his hand who was cowering and shaking. Dream rolled his eyes through a small part of him felt bad. he looked to the edge of the village; he saw an army of mushroom people in the distance. Even with his size and magic advantage, he knew he wouldn’t win. He cupped the small person to his chest and started running back to his cave. He put a wall of vines between him and the army, Taking the long route so they wouldn’t be able to find his home.

  George panicked the longer the giant ran, he knew the giant was taking him back to its layer. The giant then slowed to a walking pace making George’s heart raced, he didn’t know what it would do to him.

Dream walked quickly into the cave seeing Sapnap on the couch playing with his fire magic, seemingly bored. As Dream walked in a smile spread across Sapnap’s face.

“Oh good, your back. Was starting to think that they got you.” Sapnap said as he walked over to Dream. Dream didn’t respond he looked down at the little person in his hand before looking back at Sapnap. The fire user raised a brow at Dream’s lack of a witty response, he then noticed Dream had his hand cupped to his chest.

“Whatcha got there?” Dream sighed as he cupped his hand holding the person out to Sapnap. Sapnap let out a laugh making the little person whimper.

“y-you brought one home. A poisonous on at that!” Sapnap continued to laugh. Dream glared at him through his mask, as he noticed the little person who was now crying.

George shivered in fear as he stared at the other giant, who was laughing now, making his body shake. he began to feel tears stream down his face. They’re going to kill me or keep me as a pet, he couldn’t think straight only feel terror fill his chest. He peaked out. From between his fingers seeing the masked giant staring at him, he was then pulled close to its face as it lifted the mask off its face. He had green eyes with freckles coving its face, it looked like the giant had sympathy toward him. George felt like the giant was tricking him like he was appearing kind just to hurt him. George then spoke up.

“p-please don’t kill me” was all he could say, he knew anything else could get him killed faster, he was lucky he was even still alive. The giant smiled at him and the other stopped laughing.

“If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already” the giant had a malevolent look in its eyes despite the smile. George felt his blood go cold as he saw the giant’s teeth, it had fangs, longer than his arm. Those teeth could crush him an instant. He couldn’t stop staring at the giant’s teeth, it seemed to notice as it frowned. Making George look up at its eyes.

Dream frowned at the little person, as they stared at his teeth, they quickly looked back to his face. Sapnap walked back over recovering from his laughing fit.

“So, Dream why’d you bring this one back? You know we can’t eat it right?” Dream felt the little person go rigid in his hand.

“y-you were going to eat me?” the little person said in the shakiest voice.

“well yeah, we usually d-“ Dream glared at Sapnap, he quickly closed his mouth now noticing how scared the little person was. Sapnap then smiled.

“Oh, does Dream want to keep this one? Is he going soft?” Sapnap said in a mocking tone. If looks could kill Sapnap would be dead. Sapnap took a step back at the look Dream gave him but also because of the vines that were ready to lash at him.

“Okay man, god, you don’t have to get so aggressive about it if you want to keep them then do, I’m not stopping you.” Sapnap walked further into the cave out of sight. Dream lets the vines fall to the floor relaxing.

George calmed down a bit as the fiery Giant disappeared. He looked to the other giant- Dream, he still had a bit of fear at the thought of being kept as a pet.

“y-you’re not going to put me in a cage, are you?” Dream chuckled making George shiver.

“No, as long as you don’t try and escape, if you do, I might change my mind” Dream smiled at him with malicious intent behind it. George had to swallow the lump in his throat, feeling terror as Dream cupped him to his chest again and walked further into the cave to what George assumed was Dreams room.

Dream walked into his room closing the door behind him. He looked down at the person in his hand, he knew if they were going to stay here, they would need a bed. He walked over to his desk, setting them down. They stood still seemingly too scared to try and run. He took his mask off, setting it on the desk. He then sat down before getting out a small old box, and some sheep wool, he then got some old fabric. he used one of his vine arms to cut the fabric to size, he started doing a rather bad sewing job. He grumbled curses under his breath, as he poked himself with the needle multiple times.

“d-do you need help?” he looked to the little person, who was visibly shaking. He sighed knowing that they probably knew more about sewing than he did.

“yeah,” he set it on the desk letting the person, walk over to it. They kept a close eye on Dream flinching every time Dream so much as twitched. They grabbed the fabric and undid the sewing Dream had done before threading the needle that was bigger than his arm. The little guy somehow was doing a great job at sewing despite the huge needle. After a while of silence, Dream spoke up.

“so, uh, what’s your name?” the little person looked up from his work and hesitantly answered.

“George.” He then went back to sewing. Dream smiled feeling a bit better now that he knew the person’s name.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you George” George huffed.

“Well, if I’m honest. It’s not so nice to meet you.” Dream Frowned making George shiver he seemed to immediately regret his word, as he seemed to backpedal from his statement.

“I-I mean it was just scary is all! Your just, you know, a giant. It’s scary…” George trailed off. Dream looked away he knew he had scared them, but he didn’t know he scared them that much. Dream used his thumb to rub George’s back he felt him go stiff at his touch, He quickly pulled his hand away.

“Sorry that I scared you so much, I didn’t mean to” Dream rubbed the back of his neck.

“it’s okay.” That was all George said, as he continued to sew. Dream then got up from his desk making George shiver.

“I’m gonna go check on Sapnap you’re free to keep making the bed.” George just nodded in response. Dream then walked out of the room.

George knew he could use this to try and get out, but there was no way to get off the desk, and he knew he would get caught. So, he just continued to make the bed trying to ignore the sinking feeling of dread that settled in his stomach.

After a few minutes, Dream came back, looking a little pissed. George knew he shouldn’t ask but his curiosity got the better of him.

“w-what happened?”

“nothing” Dream said pissed off. George chose to drop the topic and finished sewing the bed.

“Oh, you’re done” George nodded holding up the mattress as best he could. Dream took it out of his hands and set it in the mattress in the small box it fit perfectly. Dream then cut another piece of fabric George assumed to be a blanket. Dream set it over the mattress, smiling at George.

Dream gestured for George to get in the bed, George hesitantly obeyed. Dream carefully picked up the bed and setting it on his nightstand. George hid under the blanket and peeked out looking at Dream. Dream smiled at him, seeming to be calming down.

“So, do you wanna go to bed?” Dream said, George nodded. Dream got in his bed turning the lantern off. George stayed up until he heard light snoring coming from Dream. Before trying to go to sleep himself. It took a long time because he didn’t fully trust Dream, maybe he’s just pretending to be kind so it will hurt more when he kills me. he tried his best to distract himself, after a while falling asleep just from stress and fear.

[tintinwrites]

i have loved you too much | Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x Fem!Reader | Part One

A/N: You guys liked this idea I think so here you are with part one!! Please remember that Reader ends up pregnant from this one night stand and that’s the focus of this series.

Rating: 18+

Warning: This fic is going to deal with pregnancy in the future, please be aware! Naughty words. P in V sex. One-sided Frankie x Reader. Reader yells Frankie’s name I’m warning you bc I was embarrassed just writing it lol. Pining. Meaningless sex wrap it before you tap it please even if you won’t get pregnant protection is IMPORTANT.

Word count: 3,413, apparently!!

Summary: You’re in love with Frankie and it’s the day of his wedding to a woman who is not you. You and a lonely Santiago find solace in each other.

GIF credit: damerondjarin

Tags: Since this is a series, the taglist is OPEN for those who want to read more rather than me tagging everyone from my general taglist. I don’t want to tag people in a bunch of parts who might not be interested, so let me know if you are!

                                         ---------------------

Frankie always made your heart flutter.

When you were fifteen and it was your first day of high school in a new town, and your first impression of dropping a bunch of papers in the hallway was not so embarrassing when a young boy in a backwards cap rushed to help you pick them up.

When you were seventeen and your prom date walked out with the girl he really wanted to take who happened to be your best friend of two years’ date, and he awkwardly asked if you wanted to dance to stop you from crying.

When you were eighteen and you were clinging onto him as he was about to go off to join the military, and he pressed a kiss to your cheek and promised to send you letters.

When you read every letter as you sat in your dorm, even as you entered your twenties and the letters became few and far between.

And then, when he came home when you were just shy of twenty-eight, you found out that Frankie could make your heart sink, too.

Like when you ran to hug him and he told you he wanted you to meet someone, and he introduced you to his fiancee.

Or when he announced the wedding date would be in a year and a half from that date.

There was also when you were twenty-nine and he asked you to be his ‘best man’, and asked you to help him pick a few things out.

And now here you were, a few days from thirty years old, and seeing Frankie all dressed up in a tux without a hat on his head made your heart flutter and sink at the same time.

How did he do that?

You were sitting on the arm of a chair that Benny was sitting in, your dress matching the ties and pocket squares that he, Frankie, and the other boys were wearing, as you watched a slightly nervous groom who wasn’t used to big celebrations look at himself in the mirror. You’d been introduced to the other men when they came into town to see Frankie and became fast friends with all of them.

“Why’d she have to choose bow ties? I can barely tie a normal tie,” he joked, trying for the third time to figure out how to tie the fabric.

Will seemed to be the only one who knew how to tie it and he gestured for Benny — who’d been fiddling with his for quite a bit now — to walk over so he could help him.

You stood after watching Frankie for a moment longer and stepped between him and the mirror, taking hold of the bowtie so you could do it up for him. “Can’t believe you’re all grown up.”

He chuckled, leaning over a bit as you tied the bow so he could glance at himself in the mirror again.

“I look like a dork, but you know...she’s worth it. Fuck, I love her.” He didn’t notice the way you looked down, fixing a piece of errant hair that fell from the style his wife-to-be wanted most.

“There you go, sweet Frankie.” It was a name you’d called him since you met him because you’d never met anyone as sweet and gentlemanly as him.

Still hadn’t.

And you’d never met anyone as handsome or as funny or…

“I’ve never worn one of these fuckin’ things,” Santiago grumbled, and you turned your attention to where he’d tied his bowtie into a knot.

“Where would you guys be without me and Will?” You bumped your hip into the man in question as you walked by him to go to Santi. “Come on, let me see it now.” You batted his hands away and grimaced at the tight knot, starting to pull at it delicately.

He watched you closely as you fixed the bowtie and, though your eyes were downcast to focus on the work at hand, he’d seen the tears in them. “You doing okay?”

You looked at him in bemusement for a moment and then you realized that he was rather blurry, and you quickly looked back down as his question made your tears threaten to spill.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just, uh...you know, weddings...so emotional…” You tried to laugh it off with a teary chuckle, hurrying to finish up with the tie so you could step away from him.

He stopped you before you could by pulling his pocket square out and holding it to you.

“Santi, that was perfectly folded!” You’d spent hours with Frankie’s almost wife, helping her with last minute decorations, and the pocket squares needed to be folded in the right design.

She was so nice and you couldn’t blame Frankie for falling for her.

“Sorry, fuck!” Santi hurriedly shoved it back into his breast pocket and did his best to make it look like it did before, but there was no time as the bride’s father knocked on the door to let you all know it was time to head down.

The wedding was being held entirely in a hotel so you left the room you’d booked for changing and headed down to where the ceremony was being held, hooking your arm through Santi’s despite being the best man as there were only two bridesmaids and Frankie requested that his two best friends walk in together.

A hand gently squeezed your side and you looked to see Frankie smiling at you nervously, before he walked down the aisle.

You didn’t think you would be crying again just from walking down the aisle, but all you could think as you looked at the man you loved was that his eyes were looking past you, waiting for the woman he loved.

That woman would never be you.

                                          -----------------------------

You were always able to tell when Frankie was embarrassed.

And, yes, he was a really sweet guy, but slow dancing in front of all the wedding guests was very clearly embarrassing him.

Though his eyes would flutter to his new wife’s face and he’d look all dreamy, a big, dopey smile forming on his lips at the mere sight of her.

She was beautiful and very kind, and she deserved someone as wonderful as Frankie.

You knew that.

You knew you were being ridiculous with your jealousy over this.

Yet there you sat, your chair turned away from the table so you could watch them, half-smiling and half-crying because they were beautiful and Frankie was officially never going to look at you like that.

A hand holding a glass of champagne blocked your vision and you sat up a little straighter, looking up to see Santi standing there with a gentle smile. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“Oh, yeah, weddings always make me emotional…” It was the same excuse as before as you took the glass from him and forced yourself not to down the whole drink in one sip.

“Mm,” he hummed like he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t press as he grabbed the vacant chair next to you and turned it around to sit.

The song ended and the couple kissed each other sweetly, and you were so occupied with staring at Frankie longingly that you didn’t notice Santi watching them with a bit of sadness in his eyes too.

Frankie smiled at you with more giddiness than you’d ever seen as he walked past, and you quickly reached up to swipe away the tear that fell down your cheek.

Not fast enough; Santi regarded you with realization and then sympathy.

He thought for a long moment, then drank the rest of his own glass of champagne and stood up, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Listen, I, uh...I don’t dance, but you’re really pretty tonight and someone should dance with you.”

“Santi…” The song that was playing was slow and you knew he wasn’t the type, but then he was extending his hand to you and you reluctantly took hold of it.

“No complaining if I step on your toes.” He yanked you towards the dance floor and you laughed as you stumbled into him, letting him guide your hand to his shoulder as his moved to your waist.

There was something about swaying with him that was only working up your emotions more and you were breathing deeply, doing your best not to cry, but a few tears started to fall and Santi quickly pressed your head into him to hide it.

Why did it have to hurt so much? Why couldn’t you just not love him?

You really hoped Santi thought you were just sobbing against him because weddings made you cry.

You forced yourself to calm down so he wouldn’t read much into it, just closing your eyes and letting him lead you in a way that was surprisingly decent considering he didn’t seem like the type to dance.

“You okay? You need to step out of the room for a minute?”

“I’m fine. It’s just—”

“Weddings make you emotional?”

“—yep. Yeah.”

You swayed with him silently for a couple moments, your emotional mind with its unrequited love taking the time to really think of how kind it was for him to dance with you, of what he said when he asked you…

You pulled back to look at him. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” He raised an eyebrow.

“That I’m pretty tonight.”

“I mean, yeah, but you’re pretty every night.”

You stared at him for a moment and then you leaned forward to press your lips to his. He stayed still in shock for maybe two seconds before he was eagerly kissing you back, his hands lowering from your waist to your hips.

You blinked at him slowly when you pulled apart, tilting your head slightly. “Would you like to go up to the hotel room with me?”

“I would love that.” He let you take his hand, noticing that you look around as if to make sure no one was watching before you pulled him out of the reception hall.

The walk to the elevator was quiet, but you were on Santi the moment the doors closed, seeking comfort from your broken heart in his lips.

He could make you forget about this.

Even if it was just for ten minutes or so, you wouldn’t think about Frankie for those ten minutes.

You weren’t thinking of Frankie now.

Or how sweet he looked in his tux.

Or how you would never be his, never know what it was to make love to him or come home to him or have a family with him.

Fuck, you were thinking about him, so you quickly reached between Santi’s legs and cupped him through his pants.

“Shit, baby! We’re almost to the right floor and I’m not gonna be scolded again for using the emergency stop for this.” He smirked at your raised eyebrow, but pushed you into the hallway as the doors opened.

The hotel was the first door to the right of the elevator and you had the keycard on you since you were the ‘best man’, sliding it through before pushing open the door as the man behind you hurried you in.

He barely kicked the door shut and then you were kissing again, hands roaming all over each other in search of buttons and zippers to undress each other as fast as possible.

Your dress loosened and was falling off your shoulders when Santi pulled the zipper down, and he sneaked his hands under the fabric both to push it down and to grope your breasts.

You stepped out of your dress, only in panties now since the style didn’t really allow for a bra, and you pulled away with a teasing smile as Santi reached for your breasts with a groan, making your way towards the bed.

The clothes Frankie had worn to the hotel before changing into his tux were on the bed and you paused when your eyes landed on them, thinking of how it wasn’t him you were going to bed with and now it never would be.

Santi opened his mouth to ask you why you stopped, only to see the clothes and know immediately that this had something to do with the way you were staring at Frankie and crying at the reception; he was no idiot, and the more pieces he put together, the more he realized that you thought of him as more than a friend.

He could tell you would probably cry again if you looked at the clothes for too long, so he reached over and shoved them right off the bed.

You blinked, looked over at him, and then let out a laugh before wrapping your arms around him and pressing your lips to his.

He wrapped one arm around you and let his fingers roam over your bare back as he guided you closer to the bed, watching you flop down when the mattress touched the back of your knees.

His bowtie was undone and his tux jacket was unbuttoned by you when you were entering the room, and he quickly took them both off and then started on unbuttoning his shirt. “Your tits are probably the nicest I’ve ever seen.”

“I can tell by just looking at your stupid, beautiful face that I’m going to enjoy the rest.” Your eyes followed his movements until he was letting his shirt fall off his shoulders, showing off a torso that was decently toned from his work.

“Wait until you meet Santiago Jr.” He was sexy enough that naming his penis didn’t make you want to run, laying there with lust in your eyes as you watched him open up his pants.

“Oh,” you gasped out when you saw him spring free, barely acknowledging his lack of underwear as you sat up to admire him.

You’d been with a few men, but you could admit that you’d never seen a dick quite as pleasing as Santi’s; dicks were not pretty and his was...well, it was nice, and you might’ve wanted it in your mouth if you weren’t just trying to forget somebody else.

“I showed you mine…” He cocked an eyebrow, stepping forward at the invitation of your opening legs and slowly running his hands up your thighs, teasing along the hem of your underwear before he started to tug it down.

He groaned at the sight of your pussy and immediately moved between your legs so he could kiss along your inner thighs, but you quickly grabbed onto his hair to pull his head up.

You just shook your head slightly because you wanted to be fucked even though the idea of Santi eating you out was tempting, and you gently guided him up until his hips were nestled between your legs.

Maybe you weren’t letting him use his mouth on you, but he still moved his hand so he could stroke over your clit, wanting to be certain you were wet enough to take him before he tried to put his cock inside you.

You were decently wet just from kissing and thinking about having sex with him, so he merely stroked you until you were squirming and moaning underneath him before he took hold of his cock.

He pressed his tip against your entrance and looked at you for your consent, slowly pushing forward when you nodded and letting his head drop with a moan at the way your cunt stretched to accommodate him. You took every fucking inch like you were made for him and he was able to enter you almost to the hilt, his hips jerking as he let out a low moan.

His cock filled you so well that you were moaning along with him, one of your hands moving to play with and tug at the hair at the nape of his neck which only turned him on more.

“Fuck,” he panted, laughing softly and leaning down to kiss you.

“I know.” You pressed a few kisses to his lips as you enjoyed being full and he enjoyed something so tight hugging around him, then you bucked your hips. “Move for me. Please, Santi.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” He pulled his hips back and then thrust forward again, doing that a few times as you moaned your approval before he found a rhythm that allowed him to rock into you smoothly.

Your legs tightened around his hips as he fucked into you, and you moved your hands so your fingers ran through his curls, ruffling them up a bit when you tugged on them.

This only made him groan and move even faster into you, the springs in the bed started to creak a bit the harder he fucked you.

He was grunting and panting and you were practically mewling each time he’d fuck against your G spot, but one of your hands slid down between your legs to touch yourself.

“Hell no.” He growled, shoving your hand away to replace it with his own so you wouldn’t have to pleasure yourself, rubbing circles on your clit.

Now as Santi was practically pounding into you and offering your clit the stimulation that you needed, your moans were growing into loud cries of ecstasy, your hands moving to press your nails into his shoulders.

Santi only moved his hips harder and faster as he sought out his own orgasm, grunting and groaning with every thrust back into your wet, tight pussy.

You knew that you were going to come by the way your clit tingled and your cunt fluttered around his cock and you could tell that he knew too as he moaned, his fingers keeping their movements on your clit consistent so he could push you into your climax.

You clenched down tight around him before your walls started pulsating on his cock and you screamed out, “Frankie!”

His hips stuttered and he stared down at you for a brief moment, but he didn’t want to embarrass you by making it awkward, and he knew he was just so you could forget about Frankie anyway, and he was so close to coming that he didn’t really care.

He continued thrusting into you as he lost a bit of that rhythm, pushing himself as far inside you as he could go as he came with a loud groan.

The only sound was your panting as he collapsed on top of you and nuzzled against your neck.

You tapped on his arm and he rolled off you, watching as you slid out of bed, redressing like his cum wasn’t still dripping out of you.

“Thanks, Santi. That was...really great,” you said as you pulled your panties on, then you walked over to the door where you put your dress on and stepped into your shoes before you paused, looking over your shoulder. “I’m sorry about the—”

“It’s fine.” He quickly waved off your apology for saying Frankie’s name, but it was still a little awkward, so he moved out of bed to redress himself.

He looked up when he heard the door open and shut, not certain what emotion it was that made him almost sad at how quick and detached that was; maybe the same emotion that made him look at Frankie and his wife with jealousy even though it was thanks to his bouncing from woman to woman that kept him from finding that happiness.

Not that it mattered, really, because he knew this was just a quick fuck and that you had eyes for somebody else, and he couldn’t really say he’d ever thought of you beyond friendship and sex. It wasn’t the fact that it was you that was making him sad, just the fact that this was all he was ever going to be.

You walked away from the hotel room with tears falling down your cheeks because you would never be with Frankie, and you might’ve forgotten about him for a few minutes, but you still said his name as you were having sex with another man.

You enjoyed yourself and you knew being distracted by Santi was only going to make you forget about longing for Frankie for those few minutes, and now you were right back to wanting him as much as you did before. Santi was just a moment of solace. Nothing more than that.

[binniesthighs]

two tails | reader x minho |

One 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x lee minho 

Genre: strangers to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff 

Tags: neighbors au, comfort fic, catowner!minho, catowner!reader, author!reader, bestfriend!seungmin, agedup!skz, slow burn, plot-driven, gradual romance, meet cute scenarios, lil bit of angst, strained parental relationship, explicit language 

Word count: 3.9k 

Chapters 

P | ONE | TWO

homebody noun 

: one whose life centers around the home. 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Grocery stores are a cursed place. Horrible. You might have guessed that if there were to be a special layer of hell to be reserved for you (which you sure as hell wished there wasn’t) it would likely be a grocery store. 

Firstly, they are one of the messiest places that you could ever experience. Have you seen the ways that those beige-y grey floors get caked with dirt and smudges from who knows what? Have you seen the dirt and grime that hides under those produce shelves? Secondly, why is it that everyone always feels the need to get so close to eachother crammed in those isles? Why is it that you have to do that awkward shuffle when your cart and someone else’s cart gets in each other’s way and you have to do the “no you go first” and “no, you go first.” 

You prayed that you had been good enough in this life to escape some kind of grocery-store induced hellscape. 

Partly it was Bomi’s fault. Temperamental nuisance. Three days into her newest bag of cat food and she suddenly decided to go on a hunger strike. The internet  had told you that perhaps she just didn’t like the flavor. Little did the internet know that you had nearly already tried every other flavor there was, even the expensive ones. 

You stared down to your crinkled up list filled with the ramblings of an attempted grocery list and other absentminded doodles. 

DONT FORGET STUPID NEW CAT FOOD 

Under the reminder, you had drawn an angry little cat face with Bomi’s characteristic calico facial splotches. 

“Damn cat. You’re lucky that I still love you.” You uttered under your breath. 

The wheels of your cart screeched as you turned the corner into the pet isle. Of course, you were the lucky one that had to pick the cart that had only three functioning wheels and whined like your mother over the phone. You cringed to yourself, bearing through the sound and the two glances from a mother and her child throwing an obscenely large bag of dog food into their totally normal cart. 

You didn’t need to, but you mouthed a tiny “sorry” to them as you passed them. 

The tall metal racks appeared to touch those flickering fluorescent lights above them as you perused them, glancing over all of the brands which you had undoubtedly purchased one time or the other. 

Tuna, salmon, tuna and salmon, tuna and veggies, salmon and veggies... 

What would it be that Bomi would tolerate this time? Was it grains that she didn’t like? Wet food? 

Merely looking at the prices for the canned cat food sprung such a headache that you wished you hadn’t looked at them at all. But, if it was what your princess would eat... 

On the highest shelf, your gaze caught a brand that you hadn’t seen before, so you summoned your strength to stand on your tip-toes, stretching up your arm as far as you possibly could, teetering just a little... 

“Al...most--” 

“Here, I can get that, let me just--” 

“--Oh no, it’s fine, I can reach it, thank you--” 

“--It’s alright, I’ve almost got it...” 

His elegant fingers got tangled up with yours. Had your determination been any weaker, he would have snatched it up all himself, but...

He chuckled a little. “Are you sure?” 

You turned your head to affirm, “Positiv--Minho?” 

“Y/n?” 

You had finally had the little can in your grasp, only to feel it slip out of your fingers in your shock. 

The terrible sound of the aluminum can hitting Minho’s head and glasses bonked between your fumbling arms, working just too slow. 

“Ssss-OW!” 

Minho’s hand went immediately to rub at the top of his head with eyes tightly shut. 

“Oh my god!!! Are you okay?” 

Instinctually you swooped in to see if any harm had been done. 

“Ah-I’m fine, don’t--I’m fine.” 

Your neighbor patted down his head, trying to craft a smile for you under his painfully crossed brows. 

“Are you sure? I-I’m so sorry. God, I’m so stupid and clumsy, don’t you think that you have a concussion or something?” 

He laughed out a sharp chuckle, then winced at what the action did to his head. “I don’t think so.” 

“Are you sure about that?” If he could have heard, he would have noticed your heart anxiously beating at a hundred times per second. 

“It’s okay, really, I’ve had worse things thrown at my head.” 

“What the hell could be worse???” 

“You don’t want to know.” He maintained his hopeful grin. 

Even after being assaulted by cat food, he was still just as beautiful as you remembered. 

“Oh! Your glasses!! Where did those go??” 

Frantically, you spun around, shoving your cart aside with another startling screee. Quickly you found them nearest the bird seed. 

“Here. Here you go, I hope that they’re not broken.” 

“Mm-doesn’t look like it.” Minho inspected them. 

“Oh thank God.” 

He huffed out one more little scoff-sounding laugh. “At least you’ve got the cat food that you wanted now. 

“Yeah, but at what cost?” 

“I said don’t worry about me.” 

Minho fluffed his hair back into place, likely hiding another rub to his throbbing head. 

What even does one say to someone who you nearly wrecked with cat food? 

“You uhh--what are you doing here?” 

“The same as you, getting cat food.” Minho snatched a bag of food from a lower shelf. “With three mouths to feed you tend to run out pretty fast.” 

“Oh! I-uh...can imagine.” 

“Weird shopping here like I live here now...never thought that would happen. I’m still getting used to everything around here; never knew that I would end up back living with my mom...and at my age.” 

“Don’t-don’t feel bad! It’s a nice area around here! At least I think, and it’s a... nice grocery store...” 

You did not think that it was a nice grocery store, but it seemed like the right thing to say. 

Minho smiled back at you warmly, just as he had done back on your doorstep, tabby cat in his arms. You had wanted to see it again. 

“-Guess that means I’ll be seeing you around here more often too then.” He took the cat food can--his ex-assailant-- to drop into your cart. 

“I guess so...and sorry, again.”

“Really don’t worry about it!” Minho rolled up his hands into little sweater paws on the handle of his cart. “I’ll see you later then.” 

“See...you...” 

Your words trailed behind him, seeing as he had already started wheeling away. As soon as he was out of an earshot, you cursed yourself out terribly--another habit you had developed since living alone; you really were your only company. 

“God, Oh god. Now he thinks that I’m a recluse and a wreck, oh god--” 

“--Hey! Watch where you’re going!!” 

An old man with a newsboy cap griped before you nearly collided with him and his cart full of diet sodas. 

“Sorry!! I’m so sorry!” You bowed profusely in apology while removing yourself from the isle as fast as you could.

Grocery stores really were your own kind of personal hell. 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

The cold metal of the bus stop sign dissolved into your sweating forehead while you watched the springtime sunset fade out before you. It really was pretty, and it was just enough to distract you from how weighed down your backpack and numerous reusable bags felt. Had your hands been free, you would have taken a picture. 

What time is it even? 

Your watch was restricted by the number of straps around your wrists. Sometimes stepping outside of your home and onto the sidewalk was draining enough to make you feel like scurrying back inside. Big trips like this however, had you falling asleep in those uncomfy plastic chairs in (also) disgustingly messy buses. 

To your right, you heard the usual hum of the number 10 bus wheel up. 

“Wait! Wait!! Hold the bus!!” 

Hurried footsteps came patting behind you, followed with shallow running breaths. 

Hair bopping and cardigan flopping a little like wings behind him, Minho sprinted to the doors. 

“Take a seat ma’am.” The bust driver snapped you out of your embarrassment over seeing him one more time than you would have liked. 

“Ah-sorry, I will.” 

You shuffled your way near back of the bus and attempted to hide your face behind your bags decorated with none other than flowers and cartoon cats. 

“Please don’t see me, please don’t see me.” You chanted under your breath while your neighbor looked for a seat. 

“Y/n? Heh, I just keeping running into you don’t I?” 

“Minho!!!!” You piped, just a little too animatedly. “Huh! Didn’t figure I would see you here...too...” 

Minho slid into the booth across from you. “I mean, it makes sense, we’re going to the same place basically.” 

“Don’t you...have a car or something?” 

“I do, but I figured that the grocery store was close enough, although, I didn’t really factor in how all of this would weigh a ton.” 

“Hm, I never really do as well.” 

A pair of older lades glared over at the two of you, clearly displeased that you were disrupting their peaceful bus ride. Minho cowered under their piercing and aged brown eyes, then stealthily slid into the seat next to you. 

His washed out jeans brushed up against your leggings, and you felt your hairs stand on end. If there was someone out there who decided if you went to a hellscape grocery store, they must have also been able to mask the smell of your sweat. You hoped that they were listening to your pleading requests. 

“It’s a really a nice evening isn’t it?” 

Minho peered out your window at the little shops and bustling streets beside you. The sidewalks were decorated with little skinny trees here and there which had just started to bloom with the buds of leaves and flowers. There was a peaceful air about the scene that reminded everyone that the cold would soon be gone for good, and the sky swirled into pinks and purples. 

“Oh! Yes, yes it is.” 

You tried your best to ignore the fact he was leaning into you slightly. 

“So. What else do you do besides be a cat parent and a part-time chucker of canned goods?”

You wanted to crawl in a hole once you saw his adorable grin once more. “I-I have a job, a couple actually.” 

“A couple? And what are they?” 

“I teach online college courses in creative writing and English.” your glasses fell a little down your nose bridge, so you adjusted them accordingly, “I also edit for a small publishing company--but that’s more of a side thing.” 

“That’s...a lot of writing and things like that.” 

“Well, it’s what I went to school for, and, I don’t mind...although my mother--” 

“--Have you written anything yourself? Anything that I could read?” 

You felt your cheeks set ablaze with heat. “You?! Oh no no no no.” 

“What?” A mischievous grin overtook Minho’s adorable one. “Do you write provocative content?” 

“No! I do not!” Your tone turned more defensive than you had intended. 

“Well, what do you write? Even if you did write that kind of stuff, I wouldn’t mind. Provocative contents are trendy these days.” 

“I didn’t even say that I write in the first place!” 

“I just assumed seeing as you seem to do other things in this field...so, what do you write?” 

“It’s embarrassing, and I don’t owe you the knowledge!!” 

Minho reached over your fuming body to pull at the bus cord, letting out the little stop requested tune. 

“What is it that you do then?” 

“Something boring and business-y that you wouldn’t care to know about. It’s definitely not as interesting as what you do I’m sure.” 

Your neighbor gathered up his bags while the bus slowed to the stop. 

“You coming?” 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

[19:07] 

me: seung, i’m such a fool. you will not believe 

seungmo: should I even guess? what? Bomi yack during your online lecture again? 

me: no, worse. 

seungmo: i’m listening. 

i guess i don’t really have a choice though don’t I? 

you’re just gonna tell me anyway aren’t you? 

The cat in question purred in your lap, permitting you your usual one hour of cat-attention a day like she would during the evenings. After your day of embarrassment, you had hunkered down on your favorite place on the couch, swaddled in blankets with the TV playing some nature show that you had been trying to pay attention to. Somehow, the thought that Minho living just doors away made it all seem even worse; you were bound to see him again. 

You bit your lip and started tapping away at your phone screen, regaling the entire tale to your best friend--who frankly had enough of your awkward “you-isms.” However, no matter how socially insecure you were, Seungmin appeared to stick by you. In fact, it was one of your “you-isms” that had brought the two of you together. 

Four years ago at that pet shelter where you had got Bomi, Seungmin was there too looking for a dog. It was Bomi’s skittish self that leapt out of her cage and into Seungmin’s arms when his dog started barking. Bomi had nearly destroyed Seungmin’s sweater by the way that she had clawed into him. Of course, you took her crime upon yourself and insisted on buying him a new sweater. After an exchange of phone numbers, he hadn’t gotten bored of you yet. Bomi had always liked him more than you--the traitor. 

[19:18] 

me: ...and then he showed up on the bus, just as I had thought that I had escaped, and then started berating me about what I do for a living. 

seungmo: are you sure he wasn’t just asking questions, NOT berating? 

me: it felt like it. 

seungmo: and why are you telling me all of this? 

me: bc I wanted you to give me some comfort?? or reassurance?? isn’t that what friends do? 

seungmo: what do you want me to say? I’m sorry, that was really embarrassing? get over it? stuff like that happens to you all the time y/n, I don’t know why you are making such a big teal of it. 

*deal of it. 

me: wow, you’re being of such help. 

seungmo: you’re overthinking it. as always. 

me: but i’ll have to SEE HIM again. 

Seungmin’s little three writing dots disappeared, and you waited in silent anxiety for what he would say next. 

[19:24] 

seungmo: you’ve got a crush on him don’t you 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

The evening sky had darkened, and you felt the air temperature begin to drop. It wasn’t unbearable however, and you had prepared yourself well with your giant sheep-like blanket wrapped around your shoulders. The cold wire chair that you sat in was undoubtedly pressing shapes into your bare legs crossed up on it, but you never seemed to mind it. 

Bomi yowled behind the sliding glass door to your backyard, so you allowed her to exit, making her a much happier cat. The two of you enjoyed these nights together deeply--they almost felt like a brief escape from life. Bomi would sneak around the edges of the fence, sniffing and looking rather suspicious when her green eyes would glow in the light of the house. Your glasses likely looked the same reflecting the light from your computer screen. 

You took one more sip of tea, then opened up your internet. A couple clicks, and you found the notification screen on your page. 

hearts: 267 

shares: 19 

comments: 21

Your eyes scanned over the little paragraphs that some of your readers had written for you. It made your heart swell with immense joy seeing the way that they had analyzed and picked apart every little part of your prose and how they would write IN ALL CAPITIAL LETTERS about how excited they were for your next chapter. 

~

I can’t wait for the next chapter! I’m DYING to know what was in that chest!! I really hope that Bomi can trust Davers. He just seems a little shady to me >////< 

YOU’RE INSANE FOR THIS. The fact that Bomi could fight off the dragon while Blaze was confessing his feelings for her??? I could never lollll 

 P L E A S E protect little Herbie. He’s such a cutie. I wish that hedgehog companions were real, I would take one with me everywhereeeee 

N/n, your writing is so so pretty!! I felt like I was right there in the scene with them! The way that you described the enchanted fountain had me drooling ahhh you’re such an inspiration to me as a writer!!! 

Blaze fanclub?? i’m trying to see somethin’ 

~

“If Blaze were real, I’d be the president of that fanclub.” You laughed out to yourself. 

Suddenly, you found you thoughts shifting from your dreamy Blaze to someone much less fictional. 

Crushes on boys who were real was much better than one’s who weren’t. It was nice admitting it to yourself at last. 

“Ahhhh” You sighed out, doing a little happy dance in your seat, then opened up the chat box to return to the replies. 

After responding to as many as you could, you opened up a new chapter. 

Chapter 22 

Blaze wiped off his sword, stained with the steel blue blood of the dragon, still steaming with heat underfoot. His disheveled deep black trellises were coated in his own sweat but it didn’t make him look any less dashing--per usual. 

“Princess Bomi, you still haven’t answered my question.” 

Bomi sheathed her own sword, then inspected her wooden shield for any more damage. For a moment, she thought that the claw marks made it look even more beautiful and intimidating. 

“Blaze. You know that I can’t talk about romance at a time like this, have you forgotten that the kingdom as stake?”  

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Bomi perched at her usual spot in the window, eyes fluttering closed before she would take her nap that would last for nearly the whole afternoon. You would have been lazing with her, but that would have to wait another hour or so: with your newest paycheck, you had decided to deliver some new flowers to yourself for your garden. 

The little array was spread out before you: yellow and purple pansies, pink tulips, fuchsia and baby pink peonies, and dainty while lilies of the valley were arranged where you had planned to adorn your front lawn. The aroma of the flowers lingering in the air was enough to make you feel as if you had transported yourself to the very magical gardens that you would be writing about that evening. 

A pair of songbirds chittered past, carrying their whistles behind them. For a brief moment, the sun shone directly onto your arms spotted with dirt and filled your whole body with warmth. Nothing was more peaceful than this. You took to work, crackling them out of their plastic pots, and digging at the earth in holes to hold them down. After a while, you felt the dew from the grass start to soak into your work-jeans, but it was a welcome little cool feeling. Next, you popped up to hose them down with your little attachment that made the water cascade like a rain-shower. You admired for a moment how the water would create little rainbows from the spray. 

“Ahem, uh-hi there!” 

You choked out a gasp before swinging around, aiming the hose like your sword to the startling voice. 

“STAY BACK!!’ 

You pointed the stream directly at them, only in your horror to see your neighbor, trademark cardigan and all, soaking wet from your weapon. 

“GOD! That’s cold.” 

The fabric hung onto him, adhering to every part of his body which was much more toned than you had expected.

Minho looked absolutely bewildered as the water dripped off his frame with sad little pat pat pats on the concrete sidewalk. 

“Oh God. Oh God. Minho, I’m so so sorry. I-I can’t believe that I keep doing this to you--” 

You nearly felt like crying, but for fear of embarrassing yourself further, you decided to turn around quickly in search of your rags. They were garden rags, but dry nonetheless. 

“Here, here, I-I think that these should help.” 

You dabbed at his body, although it was clear that this wasn’t helping in the slightest. 

“Stop, stop,” He pushed your hands away. “I just live next door, I’ll live being a little drenched.” 

“You realize that's an oxymoron right?” Your nervous hands continued dabbing. 

“A what??” Minho kindly laughed at your frantic hands. 

“It’s a...writing thing. Sorry...” 

“I really need to be careful around you don’t I?” 

Your mouth crinkled into a flustered line. “M’sorry.” 

“Can you quit apologizing?? Here, I came over to give you these, my mom made some extra side dishes so she wanted me to bring them over to you.” 

“Oh.” He handed you the little bundle of Tupperware containers. “Thanks.” 

“She also, or--I mean--I wanted to invite you over so that you could meet my cats...and! my mom. My mom too.” 

“You want me to come over?” 

“I did mention that I wanted to a little while ago didn’t I?” 

“Oh! You did...” 

“Does next Saturday work? Around 5?” 

“I-I can do five.” You brushed your muddied hand across your sweating brow. 

Minho scoffed, “You’ve...got something...on your...” 

“Oh! Oops.” You tried your best to wipe off the dirt, but you didn’t know you had only made it worse. 

Minho squeezed out his soaked sleeve to carefully raise it to your forehead. “Here, like this.” 

This close to you, his brown eyes deeply shone with the color of coffee, chocolate, the bark of forest trees after a spring rain, and a million other things that your writer brain could compare them to. 

“There. It’s all gone.” 

For a moment, you wondered if you really had fantasized him, or if he really was real. For you, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he was some kind of figment of your imagination: they usually were. 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

[1 missed call, Mom, 09:12] 

“Y/n are you there? Why is it that you never pick up your phone? I’ve told you so many times that you should pick up when I call. What if it’s an emergency? What if someone’s died?? Nevermind, I wanted to call and tell you my friend’s daughter is getting engaged and I’ve been invited to the bridal party. I think that you should come with. It’ll be good to get you out of that house. 

Why is it that you haven’t gotten yourself married yet? You know that you aren’t getting any younger?? Either way, call me back. You’ll need to bring a gift too. Its impolite to show up without a gift. 

Ah, I almost forgot. Your brother got a promotion at work; I’m not sure if he’s told you. We’ll be having dinner to celebrate this weekend. Can I count on you to be there? 

Also, how is the job search going? Your father has some more connections for you to speak to. You need to take advantage of every one of them. You’re so close to getting something that really matters. I can feel it. Ah, I just feel like you’re wasting away there sitting at that computer with those silly classes. It’s like, barely any contribution at all. You could be making so much more money. 

Anyway, call me back once you hear this. 

love you sweetie, talk soon. 

i know that its tuesday and i said I would publish on mondays shhh just pretend I published this yesterday ooP 

[ethanharli]

Requested: On Wattpad

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Top Male Reader

Warning(s): Smutt, Nsfw, Bottom Steve, Top Reader, daddy kink, biting, slightly public sex, slight cum denial.

A/n- .. I'm rusty lol

____________________________________

"Should I say the pledge or?" I tilted my head in confusion, sipping away at my coffee while my gaze lazily trailed over Steve's body, seeing him in his Captain America uniform, but my eyes lingered a little longer on his figure then I'd ever be willing to admit. Steve's eyebrow twitched in annoyance that I so happily inflicted upon him, not caring for the stares of Nat' and Tony as they shared a knowing look. "You should learn some respect" He shot back, yet before I could make another comment he then stood tall and shrugged his shoulders, "Sorry, I forget men of your nature know nothing of respect" The grin that spread across his face had my nose twitching in irritation. My upper lip nearly curling up in a snarl, but I hid it well behind my coffee mug.

"At least 'men like me' have more of a backbone then good little soldiers like you" I practically growled out the words, anger slowly stinging through my veins like molten metal. But I couldn't stop the wolfish grin from spreading on my face at the sight of him, his fists clenched at his sides, his teeth gritting together in obvious irritation and if this were a cartoon I'd think there'd be fume coming from his ears. Steve about came running at me until Nat rested her hand on his shoulder, Tony making sure to stand between us like some sort of barrier. "What do you get out of being an ass?" Steve shot back, glaring at me through narrowed eyes that held no affect against me. So pushing myself off of the counter I sent another smirk his way, but it felt weaker than before, "Language Cap'."

I could feel his eyes bore into my back as I walked away, not knowing why I even bothered to push the argument, hell I don't even know why I started one in the first place, but pushing those thoughts away I let a different one flood through my mind.

He looks good in that suit.

----

It's been a couple of hours after that, and I decided to sit on the roof to take in the cold breeze that flicked through the air, sending a deep chill to my bones that I much appreciated. However everything looked magical at this time of night, the sky coated in a pallet of blues and purples, the stars shinning as bright as they could against the light of the city below, which bustled with life and at some point I could've sworn I saw flashes of blue and red swinging about. Barley hearing the door open behind me, I continued to stare towards the city, gently tapping my heal against the wall of the tower as I let out a drawn out sigh of content. "It's nice out here" The sudden voice didn't faze me, only nodding in return while Steve stood besides me, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"What do you want? You never come around me of your own violation" I grumbled out, feeling a twinge of regret right after I said it. I've never been much of a people person, but when it comes to Steve I don't know- I just don't know how to make conversation with him, doesn't matter how badly I want to, I always mess it up one way or another. "You know what, nevermind-! I came out here to be civil and have an actual conversation with you but you obviously don't know what 'civil' is" He spat out the word, leaving me with a vile taste in my mouth as I stood from my spot and turned towards him, glaring at him with narrowed eyes.

"Civil? Civil?! Oh that's fucking rich! The great Captain America wants to lecture me on being civil!" I shouted, my hands shooting up in exasperation, anger slowly starting to bubble up within me as I took a step towards him, forcing him to take a step back.

"Maybe I wouldn't have to if you'd stop acting like a street thug!" He retorted, holding my vicious glare with his own, taking another step back when I took another step forward.

"Yeah well this 'street thug' didn't even get a fucking thank you for saving your life! Is it so fucking hard for someone as 'great' and 'amazing' as you," My words came out dangerously low, trapping the slightly shorter man against the metal door, my hand slamming down besides his head as I spat out the words. "To tell someone 'like me' a simple thank you? I got hospitalized and in the end the only ones that thanked me were the one's I didn't even save."

I didn't even notice the way his face heated up from the close proximity, being to wrapped up in my own bubble that I just couldn't pay attention. "Is it really that impossible for you to tell me something so simple just because of my profession?!" I couldn't even feel the way his hands gripped at my coat, "Cause if that's the case then fine! I'm so fucking sorry for caring-!" My words were cut short when I was suddenly yanked forwards, feeling a pair of soft lips press against my own in a desperate motion that left me breathless. My hands immediately found their way to his hips, pressing his back firmly against the metal door as his hands traveled up into my hair, his fingers tangling into the [H/c] strands while mine slowly slipped under the hem of his shirt, feeling his bare skin against my fingertips.

"You talk to much" He mumbled out softly, pulling me closer against him until our bodies were completely connected, and I couldn't tare my gaze away from those beautiful blue eyes that I didn't even know how much I adored until now. "You're insufferable" I growled out playfully, not truly meaning the words but from the smile that tugged at his lips I could tell he knew that. I was pleasantly surprised when he lifted his leg up to hook around my hip, and knowing his intention I happily placed my hands under his thighs and hoisted him up, his legs instantly wrapping around my hips as he quickly yanked off his shirt, as I did the same. Letting my hands wander up his toned body while my leg helped keep him propped up against the door.

My heart practically hammered in my chest, and I could only hope he felt the same when I slowly dragged my tongue up from the base of his neck to his ear, taking his earlobe between my teeth to give it a small tug, feeling a light sting in my lower abdomen when I heard a choked gasp come from his parted lips, along with a few heavy pants that brought a wolfish grin to my face. "Damn, we barley even started and you're already panting like a bitch in heat" I purred, moving a hand down to run over his growing erection, "Ah!" I couldn't help but lick my upper lip in a slow motion, feeling my excitement grow from all the cute reactions he makes. Letting out a low chuckle I pressed my tongue against his shoulder, opening my mouth to leave a harsh bite, "F-Fuck!" He cursed, panting heavily as I press my nose to the base of his neck, biting down there as well while my thumbs graze over his nipples.

"D-Daddy.." I froze at the name, surprise evident on both our faces but a deep red blush manages to crawl up his neck and cheeks while a long smirk tugged at my lips. "I-Im so sorry-" I quickly shut him up by capturing his lips with my own, pressing my hips against his own to create some sort of friction as my thumbs begin to roll over his nipples, toying with them almost agonizingly slow. Drawing my tongue over his bottom lip I felt him moan into the kiss as I slipped my tongue inside, our tongues brushing together in heated desperation until I pulled back for air, a string of saliva connected to our lips as a deep chuckle reverberated throughout my chest, bringing my lips to his ear, my hands slowly working at his pants. "C'mon baby boy, say it again."

"Daddy.." He moaned out breathlessly as I lifted him up further to pull down his pants and boxers, just enough to make it easy as I wrapped my hand around his cock, rubbing my thumb over his swollen tip, "D-Daddy!" My tongue darted over my upper lip once more as he pressed his forehead against my own, his arms gripping onto my shoulders tightly as I moved my hand at a faster pace, loving the way his mouth parted with sharp breaths that I could see in the chilly air that couldn't even nip at our skin because of the heat between us. "Fuck!" Steve shuddered in my arms when I suddenly pressed my thumb against his tip, holding back his orgasm as he looked at me with pleading eye's, his sweaty blonde hair sticking to his face as he let out a low whimper, "P-Please.. Please let me cum."

"Not yet baby, now suck" My voice was steady and commanding as I brought my fingers to his lips, feeling my own erection twitch uncomfortably in my pants when he happily took three fingers into his mouth. The warmth of his mouth forced a drawn out groan from my lips, wondering if next time he'd take my cock instead. But forcing the thoughts down I pressed the pad of my middle finger against his tongue, watching as he stuck his tongue out his mouth, drool slowly dripping down it in a motion that nearly had me hypnotized until I looked into his eyes, using my other hand to slowly cup his cheek, "This'll feel uncomfortable at first, okay? If you want me to stop just tell me alright?" And with a swift nod from him I brought him back into a kiss to distract him from my fingers.

My middle finger slowly pushed inside him, but I made sure to keep him distracted with rough kisses and harsh love bites that had him whimpering in my grasp, and slowly I added another digit. A low hiss slipped past his parted lips, causing me to freeze for a moment until he gave me a reassuring nod, but even then I made sure to take it slow, moving my fingers in a scissoring motion that left him breathless. "Daddy-" He whimpered out, pressing his hips down onto my fingers after a few moments, "Daddy please.. Please fuck me, I need it.." He groaned out, looking up into my eyes with a hazy gaze that made me weak.

"Who knew you were good at begging" I mocked lightly, but my own erection made itself known from the tightness of my pants, so hoisting him up some more I quickly pulled them down, letting my cock spring free as I rested one hand on the top of the door frame, making sure he was secure between the door and I, "You ready?" I asked, watching as he gave a quick nod. So in a slow motion I pressed my cock against his entrance and slowly pushed it in, instantly moving my hand to hook under his thigh to stable him, "F-Fuck- Daddy!" He groaned out, panting heavily and it took everything in me not to just start pounding into him, simply relishing in the feeling of his tight walls around me until he got adjusted.

A few moment's passed until he finally gave me the go ahead, so I slowly began to thrust into him, both of us letting out pleasured groans as I began to quick up speed, "Nng! D-Daddy! F-Faster, please" Steve begged in a low whimper, his nails digging into my back as I hooked both hands both hands under his knees, gaining better access as I pounded into him, "Daddy!!" He shouted as a groan slipped past my lips, feeling my core begin to tighten as I listen to his moans and whimpers. "Fuck baby, you're so fucking tight" I let out a small hiss from the way his walls wrapped around me drawing me closer to my orgasm as he dragged his nails down my back, and I knew they'd leave marks.

"P-Please! Please let me cum- Please!" He whimpered desperately, so pulling him into a quick kiss I nodded my head, "Go ahead baby, cum for daddy" I grinned watching as he slowly unraveled, his cum coating both our lower abdomens and soon after I caught my own relief, releasing my cum deep inside him, "Ah!" He let out a surprised moan, slightly trembling in my arms. So carefully pulling out of him and setting him down, I made sure to grab my shirt and clean him up, wiping away any left over cum.

But I couldn't stop the small that seemed to spread on my face, my heart warming softly in my chest as I looked over his peaceful yet tired expression. "What are you doing..?" He asked groggily, looking up at me with a hazy gaze.

"Cleaning you up idiot, I'm not a complete asshole, now lets get you to bed."

[thran-duils]

Use All of Me (P.7)

Title: Use All Of Me (Part Seven) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 3,097 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death Author’s Notes: I really like writing scenes of them working because… it’s hot. So, part of this is me indulging myself.

Part Six || Part Eight || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Steve got back onto the plane, sitting down as soon as he could. He was covered in sweat, having had to run back to the plane. He had sent Natasha ahead of him, insisting he could finish the mission on their escape. He had succeeded too.

“You alright, Cap?” Clint called from the cockpit.

“Yeah,” Steve answered as heartily as he could. He wiped at his forehead, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

“Must have been a tough sprint if it wore your ass out,” Tony commented from further into the plane.

“Got it done,” Steve responded, to a smirk from Tony.

As he relaxed, he pulled out his phone from the bag on the table next to him. He opened it, searching the cameras of the house for Y/N. It was something he did regularly when he was away; he liked keeping an eye on her whenever he could. He enjoyed watching her do regular things, even when doing nothing like sleeping. She was tranquil and he loved her pensive looks when she was reading or focusing on knitting.

Now though, she was racing through the house towards the front door and his brow furrowed in curiosity of what had her so excited.

He switched cameras to the driveway and saw a car pulling in. He straightened up in alarm, trying to zoom in on the driver. He relaxed, remembering their conversation a few days ago. He had told her that she could have her friends visit soon. She had technically asked but had not clarified when.

<> <> <>

They were here!

You came down the stairs as quickly as you could. Natalie and Yua had driven up upon your request. You told them Steve was going to be on a mission across the country, so it would be okay for them to come over for a few hours.

In the main living room, Bryce was talking to the front gate saying he was not informed any visitors were coming.

“It’s my friends!” you told him, slowing down next to him. He shot you a look of surprise. “Tell the gate to let them in or I’ll run down the driveway and push the button myself.”

“Did you ask Mr. Rogers? Does he know?”

“Yes!” you called over your shoulder. You were barefoot, not stopping to grab shoes. It was warm enough out being late summer.

<> <> <>

Bryce stared after Y/N confused. Steve had told him no such thing. He watched her disappear around the corner, and said into the phone, “Yeah, let them in.”

<> <> <>

Steve watched Y/N come out the front door – wearing no shoes at that – excitedly. She practically threw herself into their arms. Jealousy crawled over his skin; she had not done that for him for a couple months. She responded when he initiated sex and kissed him when he came home. But it was never with that much enthusiasm. Perhaps it was her pregnancy hormones; it is what he had to chalk it up to to avoid outright anger.

He dialed Bryce’s number and held it up to his ear.

“Don’t let them stay too long,” Steve ordered Bryce as soon as he answered.

“She did ask you, correct? She said she did.”

“Yes… she did,” Steve said with some difficulty. “I am just irritated I had not been informed exactly when she meant. But she did ask. We just have guests coming over later, remember?”

“Of course. I haven’t forgotten, sir,” Bryce replied.

“Good. I want Y/N to be able to freshen up with enough time. She doesn’t need to spend the whole afternoon giggling like a schoolgirl with her friends. And no, they can’t stay for dinner. Because I know she’s going to ask.”

He hung up the phone.

“She’s quite the little handful sometimes,” Tony commented lightly. “A foxy little handful. But a handful nonetheless.”

“Unfortunately,” Steve muttered in response, returning to the camera.

“You ever watch her shower on there when she’s alone?”

“Jesus, Tony.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Tony returned quickly. Steve gave a little laugh and Tony chuckled, wagging his finger at him. “See. I knew it. Nothing to be ashamed of. She is ultimately yours after all. Totally okay to be examining your most prized possession.”

“Who is over there?” Natasha asked.

“Her friends, Natalie and Yua.” Natasha perked up at the mention of Natalie and Steve noticed. He shook his head, “No. Not happening.”

Natasha mocked a pout, “Oh, come on, Steve. I don’t rough girls up too bad. She seemed interested enough. Even if she was seeing someone at the time. She may be single now.”

“Not happening, Nat. I don’t want anyone else there so we can talk freely.”

“Fine. Buzzkill,” Natasha muttered, leaning back in her chair.

<> <> <>

“Twins?” Yua and Natalie exclaimed at the same time as soon as you told them.

You nodded, cracking open your pop and taking a swift drink. You had asked the maid, Patricia, to whip up some sandwiches to have lunch with them. The three of you were seated in the living room, plates in your laps.

“Yeah. Can you fucking believe it? My first pregnancy and I get slammed with this.”

“Well, I won’t deny you got slammed—” Yua started.

“Oh, shut it,” Natalie cut in, slapping Yua upside the head.

“Ow! Okay, well, also, look at your tummy! I wouldn’t believe that you would be already showing like that if it were just one baby!”

“Yua! God!” Natalie scolded. “It’s not that big, Y/N.”

“It’s going to get a lot bigger,” you joked, a smiling tugging at your lips.

“See, Y/N can take a joke. Why can’t you, Natalie?”

You smiled at their banter, a feeling of loss tugging at your heart. You had missed last month and the month before girl’s night much to everyone’s disappointment. You had vowed to not make that mistake again which is why you had asked Steve if your friends could visit and he had agreed without much resistance, shockingly.

“How are you going to take care of two babies?” Natalie asked seriously as you picked up half of your sandwich, taking a bite.

“A nanny.”

She cocked her head in surprise. “Like… live in?”

You shrugged, “I’m not sure yet. Pepper is going to come over at some point and help me interview people.”

“Pepper?”

“Um, Tony’s wife.”

“First name basis with them now. Nice,” Yua said, nodding in approval. “You’re in with the big people now. Thanks for honoring my request to remember us little people. But, do you really want a live in nanny? If you do, you should get one that’s not too comely. Don’t want Steve Jude Law’ing you or anything.”

“Honestly, if he gave me a break, I might actually welcome the reprieve.”

“I TOLD you. Sex addict!” Yua exclaimed, throwing her hands out, her mouth full of sandwich. “I mean, the pregnancy—" You shushed her, trying not to laugh. You knew Bryce was nearby and you did not want him to overhear. She quieted down and whispered, “I told you. Didn’t I?”

Time flew by; sandwiches long gone, replaced by a bag of chips that were on their way to being completely demolished had taking their place. When you were interrupted with a clearing of a throat, the three of your eyes fell upon Bryce standing in the doorway from the hallway.

“Mr. Rogers said three hours. You still have to get ready for dinner tonight.”

“Oh…” you said, heat tinging your cheeks at being told you had a schedule to keep in front of your friends. Especially since dinner was mentioned and he was essentially telling you you needed to kick them out. “But, there is room—”

“Mr. Rogers said the team only,” Bryce cut in, only looking slightly apologetic at having to tell you that no, you could not ask your friends to stay.

“Dinner? And you didn’t invite us?” Yua teased.

“It’s with the team only, apparently…” you trailed off, shooting a quick glance at Bryce. He nodded once before turning to leave the room. “Steve wanted them over so we could break the news about the babies to everyone.”

“Oh, so we were the first you told? Perfect. I love feeling special,” Yua chirped, not seeming bothered by the fact she could not stay. Natalie on the other hand looked reserved; she had always been more perceptive than Yua.

“Of course you’re special, Yua,” you said, standing up from the couch. “I suppose we should… start saying goodbye. Have to make sure my hair is nice and all.”

Standing outside, Natalie turned to face you before getting into the passenger side. She leaned in, staring at you. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, the playfulness from moments ago having disappeared from her face. She was solemn, studying you closely.

You forced a smile, “I’ve got to be okay.”

“No. You don’t.”

“I know,” you whispered, giving her hand a squeeze. “It’s not all bad though.”

She exhaled heavily, looking dissatisfied with your answer. “Not all bad doesn’t mean good, Y/N.”

“It’s just… different,” you said, choosing your words carefully. “And I’m nervous. I mean, giving birth to one baby is terrifying. But going through the pain twice? What if they fight to be the first one out?”

That at least made Natalie laugh, relaxing the tension. You took the opportunity to pull her in for one last hug.

“Call us. For anything.”

“I will.”

As soon as they disappeared out of the gate, you felt weight pressing down on you again. You were alone once more. The mere few hours you had together had been reprieve but it had been far too short.

Annoyance built up in you at Steve refusing to let them stay for dinner. Deciding right there, you thought to hell with looking perfect. Simple hair, leggings, and winged eyeliner was the best he was going to get. You turned to go back inside and let Patricia know she could go home because you were going to be the one cooking dinner.

<> <> <>

Pepper sighed heavily settling into one of the tall plush chairs at Steve’s – well, your – kitchen island.

“Where’s Patricia?” she questioned, seeing you removing the chicken from the marinade Patricia had let it sit in for the better part of the day. You arranged it in two prepared pans, enough pieces for thirteen people, including Bryce and Eloise.

“I sent her home early.”

“Oh?”

You shrugged, “I wanted to cook the dinner myself. She’s wonderful but I wanted to do it myself. It calms me down. Always has.” You checked the clock and saw it was almost 5:00pm. Dinner was supposed to be at 6:00pm. The chicken would take thirty, so you decided to wait another ten minutes before putting it in.

“As long as you don’t poison me,” Pepper joked as her nanny, Eloise, came into the room, bouncing her baby. She smiled, “Oh, is she awake now? Ugh, she’s probably going to keep me up all night. Something to look forward to, Y/N.”

“Wonderful,” you said under your breath as you went into the pantry to look for the potatoes.

Pepper spoke to Morgan, playing with her as you turned the heat up to high on the stovetop to get the water boiling and began chopping the potatoes. Skin on, you thought to yourself. That is where most of the nutrients were anyway and Steve could not complain about you getting more nutrients now could he? You were going to roast them too.

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself remembering you were going to roast them. You moved to the fridge quickly to grab the baking soda and eyeballed the amount to toss in.

“What are you doing?” Pepper asked from the counter.

“Baking soda helps draw the starch to the surface and then when you bake them, it makes them extra crispy.”

“Interesting,” Pepper commented, sounding genuine. She eyed your stomach and said, “Are you wearing a loose sweater on purpose? Hiding a baby bump?”

Snorting, you lied, “There’s not much to see yet.”

“You’ll start showing more soon enough. You’re almost four months along now,” Pepper told you.

“Steve is very excited for that.”

“Men love seeing it because it makes them prideful that they put a baby there. But they’re not the ones growing the baby, are they?” Pepper noticed your stare over your shoulder, and she laughed. “Well, it’s true. I think women are our own brand of superhero. Our bodies are powerful. You should be proud of yourself. You’re doing something remarkable.”

You refrained from telling her she sounded a little Handmaid’s Tale-ish. It was true, of course. Your body held a special kind of magic to grow another human being. But like Bucky, she sounded like she was trying to coerce your thoughts and feelings to be more accepting of the situation.

“It’s not what I had planned for myself,” you finally said after debating about what to say. You opened the oven to slide the pans with the chicken inside. Now to prep the salad. Shit, you also needed to get the wine.

“Me either.”

You stopped what you were doing, standing still to give her your full attention.

“I hoped I would be on the board at Stark Industries. It took a long time for me to admit to myself I liked Tony, first off. His attention he gave me, his sarcastic wit. Yes, he was a little forceful, but he saw something there that I refused to see because I was so focused on getting a leg up in the company.” She was explaining all of this to you calmly, but you sensed some hurt beneath the surface. She gave you an encouraging smile all the same as she said, “Things don’t always work out the way you plan. But it doesn’t make it the end of your life. Just life as you knew it. Change doesn’t mean everything is falling apart.”

“And… you’re satisfied being home and taking care of a baby then?”

Pepper was quiet for a moment. “Most of the time.” She shot you a look. “I think you understand Steve and Tony are very much alike in their… ways and temperament. There will be days you pine for what could have been. But it’s best to keep that to yourself. It’s not worth the fight.”

She sounded like she was speaking from experience.

“I have a different sort of power now. You ever seen My Big Fat Greek Wedding? ‘The man is the head of the house, but the woman is the neck. And she can turn the head any way she wants.’” She leaned in. “Make him happy and you can have him wrapped around your finger. It makes things easier. For everyone.”

You bit back a comment, nodding in its stead.

“Trust me,” she said, leaning back in her chair, turning her attention back to Morgan who had began pulling at her hair. She poked Morgan’s tummy gently, smiling, “You little hooligan. I spent a long time on these curls. Daddy loves them, don’t go ruining it for him.”

Self-consciously, you touched at your hair that you had barely spent any time on. It looked fine but you had not put any extra effort into it. You had already made your choice though: a good dinner and sticking it to Steve subtly about waving off his ‘freshen up’ idea for you or do exactly as he asked, letting someone else cook the meal for the guests coming to your home. You had chosen the former.

A line of cars rolling up the driveway caught your attention out the window, and you told Pepper, “Looks like they’re here.”

You went back to attending to the potatoes, prepping them for the oven.

Tony came in first, much to Pepper’s happiness. She rose to give him a kiss and he commented that she looked lovely. He said hello to Morgan, tickling her, before his gaze fell on you. You could feel the heat of his stare on your back.

“Y/N is cooking?” Tony questioned. “Where’s the cook?”

You looked over your shoulder and said with more conviction than you felt, “I sent her home. Wanted to do it myself.”

“Hmm.” His expression and tone were unreadable, which made you slightly more nervous. Gauging his reaction would help you determine what Steve’s was going to be more accurately. “What have you guys been talking about?”

“Nothing, just cooking tips,” Pepper told him without missing a beat. She held Morgan up to him. “Your daughter is in need of some cuddles from her father.”

Steve walked in next with Bucky, Sam, and Clint. His eyes fell on you, running over you quickly. He was stoic for a few moments, taking it in. Your resolve to be a brat was dissolving quickly, even if you knew he would not cause a scene in front of everyone. There was ice behind his eyes, if only for a moment that you caught.

“Seems Y/N is doing the honors of making our meal. What a treat,” Tony said to Steve and you knew then what his real feelings were about you cooking. You had a maid for a reason, that was the message.

The mask Steve donned was well crafted. “Truly. She hasn’t cooked me anything since we first started seeing each other. I have faith in her.”

He came over to you and now that his back was to everyone, you could see the truth in his eyes. He was not pleased with the situation, which had been your goal. Steve’s hand rested on your stomach, his nose nuzzling into your hair, inhaling deeply.

“We’ll talk about it as soon as everyone leaves,” he whispered into your ear. He placed a quick kiss on the side of your face before pulling away.

The dinner had gone well, everyone satisfied with the meal and even more happy with the announcement. That still did not quell Steve’s disappointment in your choice to be preoccupied with cooking rather than entertaining and spending quality time with your new pseudo-family. Talk about it you did not though. As soon as everyone left, Steve turned away from the door, not sparing you a look. He did not answer his study door when you knocked and called his name. You slept alone and cold. He shut you out and you hated to admit how much the rejection stung more than if he had yelled at you.

~~~

Tags: @imsonick , @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam, @ironlady1993, @taintedgenre, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

[come-on-shitty-boys]

Haikyuu But I Tell You What Car They Drive Because I’m So Head Empty - Captain Edition

Daichi:

he drives an old pick up truck 

THAT HE FIXED UP HIMSELF

none of you can tell me that that isn’t insanely attractive

he definitely put in like bass-boosting speakers don’t ask why just accept.

the windows definitely are the old like crank-style windows but i KNOW that he’ll reach over and roll your window down for you because he’s a gentleman

please it has so many issues like the passenger door is a pain in the ass to open from the inside

not that it matters because he’s going to come open the door for you anyway 🥰

drives with one hand at the top of the steering wheel and he likes for you to sit in the middle so he can put his arm around your shoulder 🥰

Oikawa:

oikawa oozes class?? so he definitely has a Cadillac

oooh with those tan leather seats???

mhmmm 🥰

does  ✨the thing✨ where he puts his hand on your seat to reverse, but when he’s done, he’ll kinda touch your arm or shoulder as he moves his hand back to the wheel??

idk why but he drives like a grandma.  HE’S SO SLOW PLEASE TOORU DRIVE FASTER

He’s the kind of bitch who keeps his front seats super neat and tidy but the back??? 

d i s a s t e r

his backpack, his volleyball bag, water bottles, his jackets, a couple pairs of shoes, everything just strewn in his backseat

you will never see him with more than one passenger for this reason

never knows if it’s his right away.  he’s constantly waiting at stop signs, just sitting there, because he has no idea if it’s his turn.  oikawa will go out of his way to use a stop light just so he doesn’t have to deal with that stress.

Kuroo:

it’s just best if you don’t ask about this one?? because i don’t know either but- 

kuroo drives a prius

idk i just think it’s really funny to think about 6′2 kuroo tetsurou driving a P R I U S and his legs like barely fit and his hair is constantly brushing against the ceiling

no one fucking eats his car. don’t you fucking dare even think about opening those fruit snacks. you can have water and that’s literally it.

has a trashcan in his backseat

he’s also obnoxiously prepared for every situation??? like he has things you would never imagine needing all in the trunk of his car.  

kuroo has some kind of superiority complex because he drives a prius like bro shut up we get it.  you’re ✨economical✨

THE MAN KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT CARS

N O T H I N G

he thought oil changes were suggestions until he nearly blew his motor.

kuroo is only book smart.  i’m sorry to tell you all that he has no car knowledge.

Bokuto:

BOKUTO DRIVES A J E E P ONE OF THE ONES WITH THE CLOTH TOPS

in the summer the doors and top are always off

please think about bokuto with sunglasses and a backwards baseball cap just driving, scream-singing every single song on his playlist

bokuto always gets aux privileges because his music taste is so good

he likes when you lean across the console to play with his hair 🥺

such a chaotic driver?? but also?? really good.

he frequently drives with his knees? like he’ll just get tired of holding the wheel so he’s just steering with his knees

takes corners way too fast.  you have no idea how he hasn’t rolled his vehicle yet.

awwwww you guys will drive out to the middle of nowhere and sit up on those top beams and share snacks and just hang 🥺

bokuto is so precious B Y E

Ushijima:

he’s another one with a pick-up truck

i think his is in a little better condition than daichi’s?? but not by much

probably shares his truck with his dad or it was definitely a hand-me-down.

the heat doesn’t work oop so ushijima keeps blankets behind the seat for whenever he drives you around.  

but also because he likes to take you out for food, you’ll go find a nice open field, and he lays out blankets in the tailgate for the two of you

does most, if not all, of his own work.  he will never take his car to get serviced because he knows how to do it all himself.  and you can bet your ass that he’s taking care of your car too.

oh your check engine light is on?? pop the hood 😤 ushijima is ON IT.  Flat tire? bring it on over.  he’s got an air compressor.  he can fill that up for you. stranded on the side of the road with a dead battery? he is on his way and he has ✨ jumper cables ✨

Kita:

please i don’t know w h y but i think kita would look so precious driving around in a mom car like this 😭😭

he has one of those little mesh nets in the trunk so his groceries don’t roll around everywhere

he also has a trash can in his car, but it’s filled with drink cups and snack wrappers because he drives the younger team members around a lot and the miyas are just always eating in his car???

it’s very organized?? like he knows where all of his important documents are.  his console has like these little organizers inside with lots of little emergency things like hair ties and bobby pins for you, some nail files, pens, a pad of paper, extra batteries, portable phone chargers.  kita is PREPARED

he’s a pretty strict driver just because he knows that it’s dangerous and needs his full attention.  so you’re not going to catch his taking his hands off the wheel to put one on your thigh or anything.

his car always smells really good.  idk it smells very homey?? if that makes any sense 😭

Daishou:

daishou is another one that seems really classy to me so he drives a luxury car like a bmw

BUT HE’S A REALLY SHITTY DRIVER

OH HE IS SO BAD

literally please never let him drive.  if the two of you want to go somewhere, you need to drive.  you can take his car, he doesn’t care, but please for the love of god, you drive.

he’s no other reason than he can get carried away in his conversation with you and he’ll get a little negligent?  or sometimes he’ll be trying to back out and he’ll turn the wheel the wrong way.  

Daishou has never gotten into a bad wreck or anything.  just small little fender benders every now and then.  he’s hit a few mailboxes trying to back out of your driveway and he accidentally rear-ended someone once but it’s never been life-threatening

his insurance is so fucking high 😭 it’s already out of this world because he drives a luxury car, but then he gets into wrecks

He’ll try to hold your hand while he’s driving. You need to tell him no.  You need to put his hand back on the wheel and make sure he pays attention to where he’s going.  Please.  It is for everyone’s safety. 

{Taglist: @moncymonce​ @nicka-nell​ @celosiiaa​ @lovinnoya​ @kuronekomama​ and @madison-2018​ because she sat and screamed about this with me for HOURS}

[rae-writes]

You and me, Me and you

Kite x reader

warnings : mentions of nsfw, mentions of death, slight angst

word count : 2.k

Authors note : I have a problem with commas, despite being a straight A student in my English classes, I still forget where I should and should not put a comma so please don’t mind if they’re in the wrong spot.

You met Kite when you were quite young. You were thrown out on the streets at an early age and had just been caught stealing. They would’ve beaten you if Kite hadn’t saved you, swooping down from the rooftops and distracting them. 

“GO!” the boy in blue yelled. He looked a few years older with long, snowy white hair that went down to his waist and a cap that helped cover his eyes. That’s all you saw about him though, as you quickly turned and followed his order. The mysterious boy followed, eventually passing you as you both ran from the townsfolk. 

You stopped a ways away, breathing heavily. “T-Thank you. My name is Y/n.”

The boy glanced down, seeming hesitant to tell you who he was. After a bit of catching your breaths, however, he spoke up, “Kite. My name is Kite.”  He continued to observe you before giving you an offer, “Would you...like to come stay with me? You don’t seem very good at being able to live on the streets.” 

Your eyes sparkled, “Really? You’d let me? I was thrown out not too long ago...so I don’t know much.” 

Kite nodded, motioning for you to follow him. You walked for a while before coming up to an opening. Upon entering, you noticed it was a sewer, which didn’t seem to be that bad. After a few more turns, you came to a dead end where two or three animals were laying around a small spot on the floor with some dirty blankets piled up. 

A grin broke out onto your face, “This is so cool!” In return, Kite himself gave you a small smile. 

“This is where I stay and now that you’ll be staying too, no one can know about this place alright? From now on it’s just you and me.” 

You looked up at your savior and smiled a big, bright smile, “Me and you!”

----

After a few years of living together, someone was waiting for you and Kite when you got back from getting food that day. The man introduced himself as Ging Freecss, a pro hunter. Kite had started pestering the man to teach him to be one, and after a while you did too. Ging eventually agreed, although you weren’t his “Official” students or anything. Soon, it was time for you to take the hunter exam. 

“I’m so nervous, Kite!” 

Said boy rolled his eyes at you, “It’ll be fine Y/n. We were trained by one of the best hunters in the world. We got this.” Kite stopped walking when he noticed you weren’t following, stepping back to stand next to you again. 

“I know, it’s just...what if you pass and I don’t? I don’t...I don’t wanna be left behind.” Your voice wavered as you looked down to hide the tears that were forming. “I feel like I just found you and I don’t wanna lose you.” 

A hand came down on your shoulder, “You won’t lose me.” Before you knew it you were pulled into a warm, brief hug. Looking up, you saw Kite give you a confident smile, “It’s you and me, remember?” 

You nodded, smiling back at your best friend, “Me and you.”

----

You both, not surprisingly, passed the exam with flying colors. You were very excited to relax and celebrate a little, but your mentor had different ideas. Your and Kite’s next “official” hunter task was to find Ging. He gave the two of you his hunter’s license and set off to go “hide”. 

“Find one of the world’s best hunters? Is he insane?!” You were, to put it simply, not happy. You and Kite had just passed the hunter exam, which took a month or two, and now you were being forced to play hide and seek? Seriously? 

“We’ll find him, Y/n.” Kite was rummaging through your guys’ stuff, getting ready for the hard journey ahead of you. 

“We will? In case you haven’t realized, he’s literally-” 

“One of the best hunters in the world. Yes, I know. Which is exactly why we’re gonna find him.” He stood, walking over to grab your hand, “You and me.” 

You sighed, but smiled nonetheless, “Me and you.” 

----

After a few months of hard work and sleepless nights, you and Kite had located Ging. The trip wasn’t in vain as you’d thought it’d be, as you had met a lot of friends along the way. There wasn’t anything you really needed to do after hunting down your former mentor, so the two of you finally had time to relax and celebrate how far you’d gotten. 

“Well Kite, you were right. We did it.” You were impressed with yourself, even more so with Kite. You never thought as a kid this is where you’d be, but you weren’t complaining. 

“Y/n.”

You blinked, looking over at Kite in confusion at his sudden serious tone. “Kite?”

He stood to his full height, walking over to you and holding his hand out. As soon as you grabbed it, Kite pulled you in close, to the point where you could feel his breath fanning on your face. “Y/n...I never thought I’d have someone to care about until you came along. These past years have been amazing to say the least so...I uh...would you be my girlfriend?” 

You stared at him in shock, noting his pink tinted cheeks and downcast eyes. He was just about to pull away from you when you grabbed the sides of his face, “Kite…” His eyes shot up to yours and you smiled, tearing up slightly. “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.” 

Kite’s eyes widened, before he brought you into a kiss. It was kinda messy and definitely inexperienced, but you loved it. This is what you’ve wanted for years, although much to your dismay, he pulled away and leaned in to rest his forehead on yours. 

“You and me.” He nuzzled your noses together, going in to brush his lips against yours.

You brought him in for another kiss, “Me and you.” 

----

The night Kite made love to you was beautiful. The area was surrounded by trees with a crystal clear pond in the middle, sparkling due to the starry sky. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” 

Carding your hands through his long hair, you smiled, “I’ve never wanted anything more than this.” The pure love that shone through the smile Kite gave you was heart melting. He gently pushed you backwards, laying you down on the soft forest floor. 

Kite leaned in, brushing his lips against yours, looking in your eyes with an abundance of emotion. His touch was soft, gentle as the two of you undressed each other in the light of the moon. It gave the impression that Kite was glowing, his beautiful white hair and pale skin sparkling in an ethereal way. 

“You and me.” Kite’s gaze was intense, something you wanted to get closer to and shy away from at the same time. The way he was making sure you really wanted this almost brought tears to your eyes. 

You’ve never loved anyone more than you loved the man on top of you. “Me and you.” 

----

You and Kite had really always been together, you couldn’t even remember the days before you met him anymore. So while this didn’t come as a surprise to anyone that knew the two of you, it still made you shocked and overjoyed. 

“Y/n,” 

You’re heart rate accelerated at nearly an alarming speed.

“We have been together for as long as I can remember and it’s always been the two of us. Maybe that’s why this won’t mean anything to a lot of people but it means something to me. So would you, Y/n L/n,” Kite looked up from his position on the ground, pulling out a glittering silver band, “Marry me?” 

You couldn’t fight the smile that overtook your face, immediately dropping down to be eye level with your Fiance. “Yes!” You weren’t able to say anything else as Kite basically launched himself into your embrace, the two of you falling to the ground while laughing happily. 

Kite pulled himself off of you, “I know it’s not much but…” he flashed the inside of the ring to you. Engraved on the side was ‘You and me, Me and you.’ 

Tears sprang, and you choked out a laugh. “Kite, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you laughed, whether in disbelief that you had gotten so lucky or in pure joy you couldn’t decide. 

He pulled back, grabbing your left hand and sliding the ring on. “I was gonna wear mine but I figured you would want to put it on me.” Kite pulled out an exact copy of yours, engraving and all, just a little bigger. “You and me.”

Your face was starting to hurt from all the smiling you were doing as you gently took his ring and put it on his left hand. “Me and you.” 

----

Tragedies are a given in life, you just weren’t expecting one to happen so soon. The Chimera Ant came out of nowhere, Kite taking the blow as he tried to protect the three of you. Your entire world had stopped and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

The single, torn off arm laying on the grass would haunt you for the rest of your life. Time slowed as you looked back to Kite and the thing standing next to him. Anger and blood lust engulfed you, both your and Gon’s nen spiking in rage. 

Killua knocked Gon clean out, which made you falter in your movements. 

“A wise decision Killua,” 

your eyes snapped to Kite, 

“Now take Gon and get outta here!” 

Killua turned and ran but you stayed rooted to the floor as Kite summoned crazy slots. You couldn’t leave Kite, you wouldn’t. However when his gaze locked onto yours, you swear you heard him say something. 

“You and me.” 

You choked on the air you were breathing as tears started running down your face, shaking your head violently. Number 2 was picked and his scythe materialized. His eyes told what more he couldn’t say and you felt your heart shatter. 

“Me and you.” You turned and ran, sobbing as you quickly caught up with Killua and grabbed both him and Gon. You didn’t let go of the boys or stop running until you reached the checkpoint entry of the NGL. 

After a few hunters arrived, you set off without a word, going back to the spot you had regrettably left Kite. When you arrived, nothing was there. Not even his arm. That gave you a shred of hope but the dread in your stomach wouldn’t disappear, even as you screamed out in pure despair, “KITE!” 

----

You, Gon, and Killua were taken to the place they were holding Kite. Shoot and Knuckle had found him a couple days ago, however, the three of you had to wait and were watched to determine if you could handle seeing him. Shoot released Kite from his nen cage and Gon was the first one to walk forward, getting slapped around by what looked like Kite but you knew it really wasn’t.  

Gon had left the room, his promise of fixing the man in front of you lingering in the air. It felt like you were paralyzed, stuck having to watch the man you loved stumble around like a puppet. 

“Y/n...”

“Leave.”

“But-”

“I said LEAVE!” 

Everyone filed out of the room at your request and as soon as the door shut, you broke down into sobs. What did they do to your love? You glanced up at Kite, pondering how you could get close to him without making him attack you. 

“Kite…” you forced your nen to grab a hold of him and walked forward. “Kite.” 

He started thrashing, growling at you but unable to move as your nen kept him in place. With the way he was now, you were at eye level as you reached your arms up and wrapped them around his neck. Miraculously, he stopped trying to attack as you nuzzled your cheek against his. 

“I swear, I will help Gon fix you. We still haven’t gotten married, you know. You’re...you’re still too young to go, we have our whole lives ahead of us.” You pulled away, grabbing his face, “We will fix you. I will fix you.” Leaning up, you kissed his forehead and backed away. 

Kite started thrashing around once more as you headed toward the door. 

“You and me, Me and you.” you released your nen and shut the door, hearing Kite trying to knock it down. You would fix him. Even if it killed you. 

----

It felt like years, but really it had only been around 30 minutes. You and Gon were running towards the place Kite was being held, with Pitou running in between. Again, it felt like years before you reached the large building and made your way down to Kite. What happened next made you wish you never came at all. 

“This man...This man is dead. He died in our fight.” 

There was a sharp ringing sound in your ears, and your throat closed up on its own. You watched as Kite swayed from side to side before falling to the ground face first. You heard a scream and perhaps it was yours but you paid no mind as everything started to blur. Not long after, Gon dropped to the floor.

“Kite is...dead?”

You nearly dropped as well, stumbling towards your lover and pulling him in your arms. There were no sounds as you sat with Kite draping over your lap, his head resting on your chest. Your body could not even produce the means to sob and cry out, everything was just numb. You didn’t notice when Gon and Pitou left, you stayed rooted to your spot on the floor while subconsciously rocking Kite back and forth with your body.

“Kite...it was supposed to be Me and you, remember?”

----

When Morel busted through your hospital room, saying that Kite was alive you thought you’d finally gone crazy. After his explanation though, you realized that you hadn’t lost Kite after all, even if he was in a girl’s body now. So after Gon recovered, you followed along with him to where Kite was staying. 

Gon motioned for you to go visit Kite first, so you let Spinner lead you to the room where he was in. 

“Kite? Someone’s here to see you.”

“Send them in.” His voice was higher than it had been, but still kept the rich sounding tone.

You quietly walked in, noting his back was turned toward you. He stood, maybe too soon for your liking, and turned. 

Kite now had pinkish red hair, with purple eyes and freckles. He was also...shorter? Your lips curled up, a small laugh coming from you. 

“What’s so funny, Y/n?”

You faltered at the mention of your name, finally looking into Kite’s eyes. “I’m taller now.” 

That made his lips curl up as well, “That’s what you’re worried about?” The laugh that followed was eerily familiar. 

You couldn’t stop the tears that started streaming down your face. Kite was actually here. Alive and in front of you. So why couldn’t you move?

“I know it’s weird. I look different and well...I am in a girl’s body now. But I...I hope that doesn’t make you run away from me.”

You glared, although your heart wasn’t really into it. “Seriously? We’ve been through everything together and you think I’m gonna run away just because your shape is different?” Your body moved on it’s own, wrapping your arms around Kite’s waist and lifting him up. “Idiot.” 

His laugh this time made your heart melt as you gently set him back down. The hand that caressed your features were so familiar yet so different at the same time. “You and me.” 

You smiled, fishing out Kite’s silver band from your pocket and presenting it to him, jokingly dropping down on one knee. “Me and you.” 

[literaila]

how could this ever be different?

spencer x reader 

warnings: criminal minds stuff. its not all accurate, i am not a genius.  thats it? suprising 

summary: spencer goes undercover in Las Vegas to catch an unsub. he might just catch feelings along the way...  part one: 

Blunt force trauma. 

Multiple lacerations. 

Young women. 

Different dump sites. 

The unsub had been killing women all over Las Vegas, with no specific victimology, just a bunch of different women who were in the right place at the wrong time. 

There was nothing distinctive about the unsub, nothing that made him stick out to the team. 

After a week in Vegas, a dreadful week filled with nothing but more questions and the sun. 

They were not getting anywhere. 

On the 6th day, after 10 bodies had been found total, and the unsub had stopped killing for two days, Hotch decided they couldn't be of any help, and that the case would be declared “cold” until more evidence came out. 

All of them were disappointed, angry that all of those women had died, and they couldn't do anything to avenge them. They all wanted to prevent anyone else from losing their life at the unsubs hands, but without more information, they couldn't do anything. 

They all left Nevada with sour expressions and hopeless mindsets. 

Four months later, more women had died. 

It had slowed down significantly when they had left, but one month after that, the unsub had picked up his pace, 2 women dead in the span of a week. More weeks went by, with no other signs he was still killing, and then suddenly he was killing once a week, then twice, and then during the fourth month, it had picked up so much he was killing an average of five women each day. Sometimes, multiple women a day. 

And while this provided more evidence, helped the team dig deeper into his mindset, it still wasn't enough. 

They were still sitting around the round table, still thinking. 

There wasn't enough. 

“Hotch, we aren't getting anywhere, we don't know enough about this guy.” 

Derek sighed and sat back in his chair. 

“I think we know some-” Prentiss argued, her frown plastered on her face. 

“But not enough.” Derek interrupted, his eyes were tired, and he wanted to move on to a case where they could actually save people, not a case where none of them knew what they were doing. He felt like he was holding this case on his shoulders, and until they were through with it, the weight wouldn't go away. 

There wasn't enough coffee to cure the exhaustion running around the room. 

“Do we move on again?” Hotch asked, not exactly sure what to do, they’d never had a situation quite like this one. 

They could keep working, keep searching for answers that weren't there, or they could move on, they could work on something, on someone, where they actually knew the answers. They could go home and start over again tomorrow. 

Or they could stay, exhausted, unmotivated, and keep working. 

It was clear what they all wanted to do. It was clear that the easiest answer wouldn't be the right one. 

“If only we could find some sort of pattern.” Rossi looked through his file again, looked at all the girls' history, read over the things he had already read hundreds of times. There had to be some sort of answer somewhere. 

The rest of the team copied him, all of them reading everything over and over, desperate to find something, anything. 

“Hotch we’ve been over this hundreds of times.” Derek sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was the most exhausted out of all of them, angry that they couldn't stop this guy from killing more women, angry that they couldn't save the other girl's lives. 

“I know, Morgan, but I don't think giving up is the right idea-” 

“Wait.” 

Everyone looked over to the genius interrupting, his brows were furrowed and his mouth was turned down, but they all recognized the look on his face, they could all see that he was thinking of something. 

If anyone had figured out anything, it would be Spencer. 

“It looks like it's some sort of schedule…” 

The tall man got up to walk to the whiteboard in the front of the room, he frowned as he wrote down different numbers. 

The rest of the team watched confused as he scrawled messy numbers, again and again, they were all trying to make sense of it, make sense of anything, but they aren't geniuses, and they didn't understand. 

“Reid do you mind explaining-” 

Spencer cut Derek up with a finger signaling he needed a minute. It caused a moment of laughter between the team as Derek looked startled. 

When Spencer looked back over at the other people in the room, capping the marker he was holding in his head, he smiled as if he was laughing at himself. As if he should’ve realized sooner. 

“It's a schedule- I mean, look-” he pointed at the numbers, laughing as he said it out loud for the first time, the rest of the team just stared at him, waiting for a bigger explanation. “He only kills between the hours of 6 AM and 6 PM- I mean look-” he pointed up at one of the girls “Megan Cooley was killed at 7:28 PM, Hannah Zen was killed at 5 in the morning, and all of the other girls correlate with this schedule.” 

They all stared at the board, the dots connecting, everything suddenly coming to light. It was so strange that just a small realization could change everything for them. 

“Garcia,” Spencer said, suddenly put into action. Penelope looked immediately at him, her eyes alert. “Can you find a list of Employees that work 6-6 hours in Las Vegas? It's probably as a manager, a position that doesn't allow sick days.” 

Insistent typing went on as they all stared Garcia down. There was a pinch of hope in the room, just the slightest realization that maybe they could finally start to do something. 

“There are… 48 total employees who worked on those days, who haven't taken any sick days,” Garcia said as she continued typing.

“Okay, how about employees that started working overtime a month after the case was opened?” 

A second went by, two. 

“There are 12 results,” she said, looking back up at Spencer, suddenly excited. 

Spencer thought for a moment, wondered what would stick out about their unsub. “How about someone who doesn't work under their degree? Like a manager of a store, or something like that?”

Another moment, every person in the room, waiting with anticipation, waiting for something, an answer, anything. 

“There's only one result.” 

‘Who?” 

“A Y/N Y/L/N. She works as a manager at a book shop, never takes any sick days, and has a 6-6 schedule every day.” 

It was silent for a moment. None of them knew what to say. 

“Maybe that's what we were missing,” JJ spoke up, “it's out of character for a woman, but I don't doubt that it's possible.” 

They all nodded in agreement, not wanting to start over again. 

At least this was a place to start. 

*

“Are we just going to arrest her?” 

After the discovery they had all decided to take a break, to take an hour for just themselves, to get lunch. 

Now it was back to the case. 

“We can't arrest her without any probable cause. As of now, we don't know enough about her to get a warrant.” 

A sigh ran across the room, filling all of the heads with hopelessness again. 

Until Emily spoke up, remembering something they’d done before, an idea popping into her brain. 

“What if we sent in an undercover agent?” 

She had asked Hotch, but everyone was debating it, thinking of the possibilities, the risks that could come with being that close to a murder, the past experiences. 

It could be a very bad idea, something could potentially happen to an agent, more victims could get killed, the unsub could stop killing at all.

But, it was one of the only options they had, besides waiting for more evidence to show up. 

“We sent someone in, and they get to know the unsub, they profile her behavior, gage her way of living, look for similarities. And undercover, they could get a lot more information than any of us could get by arresting her.” Emily went on, her mind running over the positives. 

Hotch sighed. He knew it wasn't something they often did, the BAU was used to getting through cases, used to arresting people immediately. But this was a special case, and he knew that it would only get worse and worse as long as they waited. 

But he wasn't sure. 

“We don't know what she's like, what if she suspects something? She could kill an agent.” He said, doubtful, stern. 

“So we send in a male agent, she isn't interested in males, she's less likely to kill them.” 

“We still don't know if she will even connect with a stranger, we don't know if she can connect with anyone. It won't be helpful if the agent can't get to know her.” 

“But, Hotch, we could still learn her schedule, we could learn about where she goes when she's not working. 

With each sentence that Emily said, they were all becoming more convinced. 

A nod went around the table, and they all looked to Hotch for confirmation. 

He sighed and rubbed his eyes, exhausted with the day, with the case, and nodded. 

Relief went around, all of them glad to finally have a plan. 

“So who do we send?” Rossi asked. 

There were dozens of agents they could send, plenty of them trained for this exact thing, but they were all looking around the room. They all knew the case best, they knew how to gage human behavior, they knew what they were supposed to look for in the unsub. 

It had to be one of them. 

“Prentiss and JJ can't go,” Derek said, looking at the two of them who looked relieved at the fact. 

‘And Hotch you can't go, you have to take care of Jack.” 

Rossi cleared his throat, his team members looked at him. “I’m taking my name out of the ballet. I’m too old for this,” he said, sending a laugh around the room. 

Derek sighed and looked at Hotch. “I don't think I’m a good choice. I’m more intimidating, and she would be more comfortable around someone her age.” 

They all silently looked to Spencer, who was looking down at his file, reading everything over again. 

It was only when Hotch cleared his throat that he looked up. 

“Reid? Are you comfortable going?” 

Spencer stared at him shocked. “Me?” he asked, his voice cracking. 

He wasn't good with people in general, and he’d never been good with girls. If they wanted to make the unsub comfortable, he was the worst option. 

“Come on kid,” Derek started, “You’re the closest to her age, you’re the most approachable. You’ll remember the most about her behavior, and you’ll learn her schedule quicker than any of us. Plus, you already know your way around Las Vegas.” 

The rest of the team nodded in agreement, while Spencer still looked terrified. 

“And plus,” Emily spoke up, hoping to convince Spencer, “She works at a bookstore.” 

Everyone but Hotch and Spencer laughed. 

Spencer was stuck. He didn't know how to talk to people, he didn't know how to get to know someone. He was only good with facts, and talking to an unsub- one that he was supposed to make comfortable -did not involve facts. 

But, he knew his team needed him, he knew that they were all stressed, that the others had taken the losses harder than he had. He knew that if he could do this if he could learn about this girl, the world would be clearer for his family. 

“Reid, I only want you to do this if you’re comfortable.” Hotch pulled Reid out of his thoughts, his eyes stern and unmoving. His voice was completely serious, and Spencer could hear hints of reassurance in his words. It was comforting to know that Hotch trusted him to make the right decision. 

Spencer took a deep breath. Reminded himself that his team trusted him too. 

“Alright. I’ll do it.” 

***

An apartment. 

They would get him an apartment. 

He would live in Las Vegas for as long as he deemed necessary. 

He would stay and he would learn everything he could about Y/N. 

He would profile her, send reports back to his team. 

He would try and talk to her. He would try to get to know her. 

He would change everything. 

He would do his job. 

He would talk to a girl. 

A girl. 

A murderer. 

A girl. He would have to talk to her. 

He would. 

A girl. 

“Hi, I’m Spencer.” 

***

reminder that this is part one, and its more of a introduction than the actual story

sorry if it sucked 

my masterlist: 

part two