#I keep rolling something like this almost every second run since I moved back from defect to silent

[crowns-of-violets-and-roses]

I can't keep getting away with this.

[reidmania]

a moment | s. reid

summary: two times there was a ‘moment’ between you and spencer, and one time he did something about it.

warnings; best friends to lovers, fem reader, pinning, this based off a lorelai and luke edit i saw, idk if its edited or makes any sense tbh!! sorry! longing, kinda self doubt idk, happy ending yay!!

an; this is for lia. And was written in like an hour so i really dont want the hate guys. If it sucks i cannot be held responsible.

You walk into the bullpen, scanning the usual chaos of the bullpen The day’s already running long, and it’s barely even noon.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Spencer says, glancing up from his desk. His eyes are sharp behind his glasses, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. He’s half-hidden behind a wall of case files, as always, but somehow manages to throw his snark with precision.

you and spencer had been best friends since you started together, you got along with anyone but gravitated towards Spencer more than anyone else. Him and Penelope were the easiest for you to be around, you loved everyone but you had your favourites.

While Penelope had been bugging you to either kick up the courage to do something about your friendship with Spencer, or move on, you did neither.

"Oh, save it,," you fire back, tossing your bag on your desk. "I’m fashionably late. It’s a thing."

"Yeah, fashionably late in a profession like this. Very chic. Theres other ways to get here you know — from your house-“

“Don’t even” you cut him off.

“Im just saying if you keep missing the same turn off every time maybe it’s a sign you should be going a different way.” He muttered.

“I didn’t miss the turn off.” You argued. You lied.

“You did.”

“No”

He said your name and you huffed.

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin as you sink into your chair. "Can we pretend, just for today, that you’re not right?"

"Well," Spencer says, leaning back in his chair, "I’m only right about ninety-seven percent of the time. So, technically, you’ve got a three percent chance of being right today. Want to take a gamble?"

You throw a crumpled paper at him. "Your math is annoying."

He catches it, eyes twinkling, and throws it back at you. "Annoying?"

“Yes, annoying. It hurts my head”

It’s easy between the two of you—this banter, this back-and-forth. It always has been, ever since the first case you worked together. Over time, it’s become second nature to tease him, push his buttons, and he always gives it right back. The tension slips away with every joke, but today, there’s something different about the way his eyes linger on you a beat too long, like he’s waiting for you to catch on.

You ignore it. You have to.

"So, what do we have?" you ask, holding out your hand for the file in his lap.

He passes it to you, fingers brushing against yours. It’s brief, but the touch sends a spark up your arm. Your eyes meet for a second longer than necessary, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t know what to say.

Spencer clears his throat, looking back down at the file. "This unsub’s a real charmer. I think he's using manipulation tactics to lure his victims. He’s got a pattern, but it’s subtle. Took me a while to piece it together."

"Took you a while? So, like... five minutes?" You grin, but the edge in your voice is gone, replaced by something softer.

He laughs, a sound that always surprises you because it’s rare, but so genuine. "Try thirty. It was a real struggle."

"Wow. I almost feel bad for you."

His smile fades just a little, and when he looks at you again, there’s that shift. Something hovers between you, just under the surface, where the teasing usually stays. His eyes flicker over your face, and suddenly, you wonder if he’s about to say something else, something that would cross the line you’ve never acknowledged before.

Your heart skips, and before you can stop yourself, you lean forward a little. Your breath catches.

"So..." Spencer starts, but before the sentence can land, your phone buzzes on your desk. The sharp sound breaks the moment like a snapped thread. You jerk back, grabbing your phone.

"Hotch needs us in the conference room," you mutter, more to yourself than him, trying to get a grip on the swirling thoughts in your head. "We’ve got a lead."

Spencer blinks, clearly shaken out of whatever that was, and you stand up quickly, focusing hard on the case and not on the fact that you were about two seconds away from… what? Leaning in? Kissing him?

No. That’s not what this is. This is Spencer.

"Race you to the conference room?" he asks suddenly, the playful lilt back in his voice, but there’s still something lingering behind his eyes, a question neither of you seems ready to ask.

"Race? You’re literally taller than me, that’s cheating. I’m wearing heels!!"

"You can run in heels, can’t you?" He shoots you a smirk, the tension easing just enough for you to relax, even if your heart is still racing.

"Could. But i don't want to damage my gorgeous shoes," you huffed, yet already heading for the door.

"Gorgeous shoes?" He repeated, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah that was actually the name of the shoes when i bought them. They had 'gorgeous shoes' written in big letters across the box." You smiled, tilting your head.

"Really?"

"No."

You make it halfway to the conference room before he catches up, the two of you slipping back into your usual rhythm. But as you walk into the room side by side, the unspoken thing still hangs between you. You don’t talk about it, and maybe you never will, but it’s there.

“Are you still coming over tonight?” He asked, looking down at you, eyes lingering on yours. You nod.

“It’s pizza night. Of course I am.”

And once again, you’re reminded that with Spencer, things have never been as simple as just best friends.

You’re standing in Spencer’s tiny kitchen, flour everywhere. And when you say everywhere, you mean it—on the counters, in your hair, smeared on his cheek where you definitely didn’t mean to slap him with dough earlier.

“This is going really well,” you deadpan, holding up the limp, misshapen pizza dough.

“Um.” He squints as he looks at the mess.

“Well.. you’re the genius who can outsmart anyone but apparently can’t figure out yeast,” you argue, pinning the blame on him. “Is it supposed to look like this?” You muttered, tilting your head.

“I think it’s fighting back. Maybe we’re the victims now.”

You both dissolve into laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt. This was supposed to be simple. Homemade pizza sounded like a cute idea, something easy to do on a night off, but it’s turned into chaos. The dough’s not cooperating, the sauce might be too watery, and you’re pretty sure you added way too much garlic. But that’s what makes it fun.

"Okay," Spencer says, hands raised in surrender. "I officially give up. This dough has outsmarted me."

"You’re giving up? Dr Spencer Reid, defeated by pizza dough?" You snatch the rolling pin from him, trying to take over, but the second you press down, the dough tears. "Okay, maybe it’s smarter than both of us."

Spencer steps closer, leaning over your shoulder to inspect the mess you've made. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and for just a second, everything feels different. The banter pauses. His breath is soft on your neck, his arm brushing against yours as he reaches to touch the dough. Your heart stutters, and you freeze, unsure of what to do next.

But then, with no warning, Spencer flicks flour at you.

"Hey!" you squeal, spinning around to face him, eyes wide. He looks so pleased with himself, a mischievous grin on his face.

"What? You had flour in your hair. I was just trying to help.”

"Sure, you were." You reach for the bag of flour, holding it up threateningly. "I will not hesitate to make this a war, Spencer."

He grins widely, almost daringly.

You grab a handful of flour and toss it at him in retaliation. "You are such a child."

“I’m just helping!” he protests, dodging your attack and grabbing the rolling pin like a shield. His laughter is contagious, and soon you’re both caught up in it, the tension slipping away into something lighter, easier.

You try to swipe more flour at him, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you mid-throw. His fingers wrap around your wrist gently, but the touch sends an unexpected shiver up your arm. You both freeze, the room suddenly too quiet again, his hand lingering on yours for just a second longer than necessary.

His gaze flickers down to where his fingers rest against your skin, and then back up to meet your eyes. There’s a pause, just long enough for the air between you to thicken, something unspoken hanging between you. His thumb brushes your wrist lightly, and you wonder if he feels it too—the tension that’s been simmering all night, just beneath the surface.

You swallow hard, pulling your hand away, but not before you catch the briefest flicker of something in his expression. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and just like that, the moment slips away.

His eyes narrow playfully, and for a second, you think he might call your bluff. But instead, he just chuckles and steps back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Let’s not escalate this. We’re adults, after all."

"Adults who can’t make pizza," you mutter, dumping the ruined dough into the trash. "Guess we’ll have to order in. Again."

Spencer wipes his hands on a towel, still smiling. "I’ll let you pick the place this time. As long as it’s not that one with the weird crust you made us try last month."

"Oh come on, that was a bold choice! You just have no sense of adventure."

"I have a very good sense of adventure," he says, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes sparkling in that way that makes you feel like he knows exactly how to get under your skin. "I just like my pizza to taste like pizza."

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning, too. "Fine. We’ll get the boring pizza this time."

As you both settle into the living room, waiting for the pizza to arrive, you can't help but feel that lingering tension again. The kind that sneaks up on you when things get quiet, when the laughter dies down, and it’s just the two of you sitting side by side, closer than necessary.

You smile, nudging him with your elbow. "Who knew you were such a terrible cook, though?"

"I think we share equal blame here."

"Maybe," you admit, glancing at him. His eyes catch yours, and for just a moment, the playful air between you shifts. It’s small, like the brush of his hand earlier, like the way he’s looking at you now. Your heart skips again, and you wonder—just for a second—if maybe, possibly, you weren’t imagining it. You ignore it, there was too much that could go wrong if you didn’t.

It’s late in the afternoon when you hear the knock at your door. The sun's still out, casting a soft golden light through your living room windows, but it’s the last thing on your mind.

You’re dressed in something more put together than usual because, of course, Penelope had insisted on setting you up on this date tonight. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but she’d been so enthusiastic that you’d caved. You’d said yes to humor her, to get her off your back.

She had insisted that you needed something to get your mind off Spencer. You wondered if that was actually possible.

So when the knock comes, your stomach churns, thinking it might be the guy arriving too early. But when you open the door, it's not your date.

It’s Spencer.

He’s standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, hair slightly disheveled, and there’s a look on his face you can’t quite place. It’s tight, maybe a little frustrated, though he's trying hard to keep his expression neutral.

“Spence?” You lean against the doorframe, arching an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, eyes scanning you briefly before he looks down, then back up again. There’s tension in his posture, the kind you recognize when he’s overthinking something. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

You don’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh.”

His face tightens even more, though he tries to hide it with a half-hearted shrug. “Did Penelope set you up with some guy?”

“Yeah?” You squinted trying to figure out how he knew that. You hadn’t mentioned it, you didn’t want to talk about what had caused your sudden date or have to lie to him about why Penelope suddenly set you up when you have shown no intention of being interested in dating.

“Penelope told me. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, running his hand through his hair as if he was stressed. You didn’t understand, not really. You told Spencer everything so you could understand why he would be annoyed that you didn’t tell him this, but it seemed as if he took it personally.

You squint at him, crossing your arms. “What is your issue? You look like you want to strangle someone.”

He lets out a huff, avoiding your eyes again. “It’s nothing.”

You tilt your head, studying him. There’s something under the surface, and you’re not about to let it go. “Well you’re here so, obviously its not nothing … What’s going on?”

He finally looks up at you, his eyes sharp and filled with something you haven’t seen before. It catches you off guard for a moment. “It’s just—there was a moment.”

You blink, thrown by the sudden shift. “A moment?”

His voice drops, a little rougher now, a little more real. “Last week. When we were making pizza, and the week before that— and during- there was a moment.”

Your heart skips. You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you stay silent, letting him continue.

“I thought there was a moment,” he says, his frustration starting to leak through his words now. “I thought maybe something was… happening.”

Your chest tightens, the air in the room shifting as you meet his eyes. “There was.”

The confession comes out of your mouth before you even realize it, and the tension between you two spikes instantly, filling the space with an electric charge. You can feel it, the way everything has changed with those two words.

Spencer just stares at you, his brow furrowing slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to admit it. He takes a step forward, you step back almost unconsciously, and your heart beats faster in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice low, unsure.

He doesn’t stop moving, closing the gap between you even more, and his voice is soft but firm when he speaks. “Will you just stand still for a minute?”

Before you can say anything, before you can even process what’s happening, his hand comes up to cup the side of your face, and his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but it’s full of all the unspoken things that have been building between you for so long. You feel the world tilt, your hands instinctively moving to grip the front of his jacket, pulling him closer. For a second, everything else fades away—your date, the case, everything.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you just stare at each other. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, and his eyes search yours, full of something that feels too big to name.

Neither of you says anything for a long moment, the silence thick and heavy with everything that’s just shifted between you.

Then, as if in slow motion, you take a small step forward. It’s your turn now, the tables flipped, and you can see the surprise flicker in his eyes as he instinctively steps back.

“What are you doing?” he asks, echoing your earlier words, his voice low and a little breathless

You give him a small smile, feeling the tension twist tighter in your chest. “Will you just stand still for a minute?” You mirrored his words

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t move, and before he can say another word, you close the space between you and kiss him again.

This time, it’s different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. The kiss is deeper, more insistent, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. It’s like everything you’ve both been holding back is finally breaking free, all the tension and the unspoken feelings rushing to the surface.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily, faces inches from each other. Your hands are still gripping the front of his jacket, his fingers still digging into your sides like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t move, neither of you do. You just stay there, staring at each other, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not thinking about the job, or the cases, or anything else. It’s just him.

He’s the first to break the silence, his voice quiet and almost disbelieving, He exhales, a long, relieved breath, his hand still resting on your waist. “I thought maybe I was imagining it.”

You shake your head, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “No. You weren’t imagining it.”

Another beat of silence passes, and then his lips quirk up into that small, crooked smile you’ve always liked so much. “Well, I guess we have Penelope to thank for this.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “Yeah, and she doesn’t even know it.”

His thumb brushes your side, a subtle touch, but enough to send a shiver up your spine. “Are you… still going on that date?”

The question hangs in the air between you, and for a moment, you almost laugh. The idea of leaving now, of going out with some guy Penelope set you up with, feels absurd.

“No,” you say, your voice steady and certain. “I’m not.”

His smile widens, just a little. “Good.”

You grin up at him, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. “Yeah? Why’s that good?”

Spencer’s gaze softens, and for the first time, you see the real reason for his frustration, for all of this. He steps even closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your lips, his voice low and sincere.

“Because, there was a moment.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you meet his eyes, that familiar warmth spreading through you again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, his lips ghosting yours, and the last bit of tension that’s been sitting between you melts away completely. He smiles, and before either of you can say anything else, he closes the gap and kisses you again.

[eimiette]

minutes

࣪♡ ۪ ݁ 𓈒 ── SPENCER REID

SUMMARY: during a high-stakes stakeout, spencer reid and his partner turn their limited time into a distraction from the case at hand. GENRE: smut with plot, idiots in love CW/TAGS: soft!dom spencer (ofc), quicky, piv sex, fingering, lots of banter, est!fwb relationship, reader is referred to as a girl. this is my first spencer reid smut so b nice pls !! <3

the night had settled into a quiet lull, the kind of silence that stretched on and made time feel endless. you’d been parked outside the suspect’s house for hours, watching the shadows play tricks on your eyes while spencer sat beside you, deeply engrossed in a book he’d brought along—one that had nothing to do with the case.

you glanced over at him, unable to resist a little teasing. “you know, we’re supposed to be watching the house, not reading ‘war and peace’ for the millionth time.”

“it’s ‘the brothers karamazov’,” he corrected without looking up, his tone dry but familiar. “and i’ve only read it four times, not a million. it’s called multitasking.”

you chuckled, shaking your head. “right. because when i think of multitasking, i think of spencer reid reading existential russian literature while catching criminals.”

he looked up then, a small smile tugging at his lips. “well, it’s a good thing i’m here to broaden your definition of multitasking, isn’t it?”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin spreading across your face. “sure, sure. meanwhile, i’m stuck doing all the actual work. keeping an eye out, staying alert… maybe you should take notes.”

he made a show of sighing, marking his place in the book before setting it down. “i hate to break it to you, but i’m perfectly capable of watching and reading at the same time. some of us can do more than one thing.”

“oh, is that so?” you arched a brow, leaning in slightly. “then tell me, genius, what’s happening at the suspect’s house right now?”

spencer paused, his gaze shifting to the darkened windows across the street, then back to you. “the lights in the living room went off about fifteen minutes ago. bedroom lights turned on shortly after, but no one’s left the house since then. there’s a dog barking a few houses down, and someone two blocks over keeps playing the same verse of ‘take on me’ on the piano. badly, i might add.”

you blinked, momentarily stunned. “okay, first of all, how do you even—never mind, i don’t want to know. and second, why would anyone ever play just one verse of ‘take on me’? what kind of psychopath are we dealing with here?”

spencer chuckled, a real laugh that lit up his face in a way that made something warm bloom in your chest. “now that’s the real mystery,” he agreed. “maybe we should call in a second team to handle it.”

you snorted, shaking your head. “only if they’re prepared for a psychological profile of a frustrated piano player. that’s definitely outside my area of expertise.”

“mine too, surprisingly,” he said, his smile softening as his eyes met yours. “though i’m sure we could figure it out together.”

your smile matched his, and for a moment, the banter fell away. it was always like this—easy, comfortable, like you’d known each other forever. bickering was your default, but underneath it, there was something else. something steady. something you never quite acknowledged.

“hey,” you said, breaking the quiet but keeping your voice low, almost conspiratorial. “be honest. are you actually glad we got stuck on this stakeout together, or are you secretly wishing morgan was here instead?”

spencer tilted his head, pretending to consider it. “hmm, well, morgan wouldn’t keep up a running commentary of every single shadow that moves, so that would be a point in his favor.”

you scoffed, nudging his arm with your elbow. “you love my running commentary. admit it.”

he grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always made your stomach flutter. “okay, maybe i’d miss it a little,” he conceded. “just don’t let it go to your head.”

“i knew it!” you crowed, leaning closer with a triumphant smile. “you’re not as tough as you pretend to be, dr. reid. deep down, you actually like having me around.”

his smile turned softer, almost fond, as he met your gaze. “maybe more than i let on,” he said quietly, the teasing edge slipping from his voice.

“you know,” you murmured, voice just above a whisper, “for a genius, you can be pretty slow sometimes.” he turned a page slowly, clearly fighting back a smile. “you’re just jealous because you didn’t think to bring a book.”

“why would i bring a book when i could spend my time annoying you?” you shot back, grinning when he finally glanced over at you, his eyes alight with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“mission accomplished, then,” he replied dryly. “you’ve certainly succeeded in distracting me.”

you let out a laugh. “it’s a talent, what can i say?” you leaned in a little closer, your voice dropping to a lower, more playful tone. “admit it—you like it when i distract you.”

he hummed, pretending to consider your words as he closed his book and set it on the dashboard. “i suppose it does have its perks,” he said, turning his body slightly to face you. his knee brushed against yours, a casual touch that sent a familiar thrill through you. there it was—the shift. you’d felt it countless times before, that subtle change in the air between you. it always started with harmless banter, a little back-and-forth that led to lingering touches, heated looks, and eventually, lips pressed together in the dark of the car or the shadows of a motel room. friends with benefits, that’s what you called it, though even that seemed too formal. it was more like an unspoken agreement, a mutual understanding that sometimes, the line between friends and something more blurred when the nights got long and lonely.

you arched an eyebrow at him, leaning in even closer. “and what perks would those be, exactly?”

spencer’s eyes flicked down to your lips, his smile turning a bit more mischievous. “the kind that gets me out of reading the same case notes for the third time.”

you chuckled, your heart picking up its pace as you closed the remaining distance between you. “if that’s what it takes to keep you from quoting tolstoy at me again…”

before you could finish, spencer’s lips were on yours, warm and insistent, like he’d been waiting for this. his hand slid up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. it wasn’t the first time, not by a long shot, but it still sent a shiver down your spine the way it always did. he kissed you like it was something he needed, not just something to pass the time.

you tilted your head, smiling against his lips. “so, is this how you imagined the stakeout going?”

he pulled back just enough to murmur, “it’s a pretty standard ending for us, don’t you think?”

you laughed softly, your breath mingling with his. “i guess we have a type, huh?”

“apparently,” he replied, his voice low and teasing as his thumb brushed along your jaw. “can’t say i’m complaining, though.”

you hummed in agreement, fingers finding their way into his hair as you brought his lips back to yours. “good. because i’d hate for you to get bored out here,” you whispered between kisses, your words half-teasing, half-sincere.

“i can think of worse ways to spend a stakeout,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. his lips trailed down to your neck, and you let your head fall back, a satisfied smile spreading across your face.

you felt spencer’s lips brushing against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. his kisses were warm and deliberate, a welcome distraction from the long hours of the stakeout. you leaned into his touch, but a nagging thought pulled at the edge of your mind, breaking through the haze of pleasure.

“spence,” you murmured, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “should we really be doing this right now? i mean, we’re on a stakeout. there’s a chance the unsub could show up any minute.”

spencer’s eyes flickered with amusement, a faint smile curling at the corners of his lips. “oh, come on,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “we’ve been monitoring this place for hours. we’ve got approximately 48 minutes before the unsub’s next predicted move.”

you raised an eyebrow, trying to read his expression. “48 minutes? and how do you know that?”

he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “based on the patterns of his previous crimes, the time between his actions has been pretty consistent. it’s a safe bet we’ve got a little leeway.”

you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “so, you’re telling me that you’ve calculated the exact amount of time we have before we need to get back to being all business? kinda sexy you’ve calculated the timing on this out i must say..”

spencer’s eyes widened slightly, and he blinked at you, momentarily thrown off. “sexy? you find profiling talk sexy?”

you nodded, your gaze never leaving his. “yeah, it’s like you’re making crime analysis sound intriguing and… well, a little hot.”

he chuckled, a warm, genuine laugh that sent a thrill through you. “i’ll have to remember that. maybe i should include more of that in my briefing sessions.”

you grinned, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips. “just don’t let the team catch on. we don’t need them getting ideas.”

spencer’s fingers worked on the buttons of your shirt, his touch lingering with a hint of teasing. “you think they’d actually believe it’s my secret weapon?”

“oh, absolutely,” you replied with a smirk, helping him with his shirt. “morgan would probably have a field day with that.”

spencer’s shirt joined yours on the floor as he flashed a mischievous grin. “if that happens, it’s on you. you’re the one who brought up the idea of sexy profiling.”

“guilty as charged,” you said, pushing his trousers down with a playful nudge. “but you have to admit, you’ve got a way of making it sound pretty compelling.”

he raised an eyebrow, his fingers brushing against your thigh. “compelling, huh? is that the new standard for our stakeouts?” “maybe,” you said, leaning in closer. “or maybe it’s just a nice change of pace.”

spencer’s lips curved into a grin as he pulled you in for another kiss, his hands sliding around your waist. “i can live with that.” you responded with a playful glint in your eye, your fingers brushing against his chest as you shifted closer. with a confident move, you straddled his lap, your body aligning perfectly with his. the shift brought you eye to eye, a spark of heat dancing between you. spencer’s breath hitched slightly, his hands finding their place on your hips as he adjusted to the new closeness. “i see you’re not wasting any time,” he murmured, his voice a low, appreciative rumble.

you chuckled softly, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. “why wait? we’ve got a limited window here.”

spencer’s breath hitched slightly, his hands finding their place on your hips. as he adjusted to the new closeness, his fingers slowly slid down, grazing the fabric of your skirt. the sensation of his touch against your skin made you shiver with anticipation. his hands wandered gently, exploring the curve of your hips and the edges of your skirt. his touch was light but deliberate, moving with an almost curious intensity as he traced the contours of your body. you could feel his fingers inching upwards, brushing softly against the bare skin of your thighs.

you pouted, a playful frown tugging at your lips as you looked down at him. “you’re really going to tease me like this?”

spencer met your gaze with a mix of amusement and warmth. “need you to use your words pretty girl.”

you raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on your lips. “oh, is that how it’s going to be?”

he nodded, his touch growing more deliberate but still teasingly slow. “absolutely. tell me what you want.”

you bit your lip, the playful challenge clear in your eyes. “i want you to stop teasing and actually—”

before you could finish, spencer leaned in, his lips brushing against yours as his hands continued their exploration. his touch finally met your soaked core over your underwear, sending a jolt of sensation through you. his whisper against your lips was soft but insistent. “use your words. tell me exactly what you want.”

you parted your lips, your breath coming in soft, needy gasps. “touch me… please.”

spencer’s eyes darkened with desire as he heard your plea. his fingers slipped under the edge of your underwear, meeting the dampness of your core. he let out a low curse, his breath hitching. “fuck, you’re so wet. i should really explain the time management of our cases and unsub patterns more often if-” realizing he was losing focus, spencer shifted his attention back to you. he let out a soft curse, his fingers slipping inside you with a deliberate, smooth motion. the sudden, intimate contact made you gasp, the sensation warm and intense. spencer's fingers moved with a focused precision, sliding inside you with a smooth, deliberate motion. the warmth of his touch and the rhythmic pressure made your breath hitch, a soft whine escaping your lips as the sensation intensified.

he pressed his fingers deeper, his hand moving with a steady, measured rhythm. each thrust was controlled and purposeful, designed to maximize the pleasure that rippled through you. his palm rested firmly against your core, the heat from his hand mingling with the warmth of your skin.

as you whimpered softly, your breath coming in short, shuddering gasps, spencer leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. “you’re doing so well,” he murmured, his voice a low, intimate rumble that sent a thrill down your spine. his thumb brushed lightly against you, adding a delicate pressure that made you whine again, the sound filled with both need and satisfaction.

you bit your lip, struggling to find the words through the haze of pleasure. “spence… i want to feel you. i want—”

he cut you off gently, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “i know. just give me a moment.” his fingers continued their rhythmic dance, his touch a tantalizing blend of warmth and pressure.

but as your need became more urgent, your voice grew more insistent. “please, i need to feel you inside me.”

spencer’s gaze grew more intense, filled with a deep, hungry longing, and he pulled his fingers away slowly, his expression a mix of affection and eagerness. “alright,” he said softly, his voice thick with desire. “i’m here.”

he reached into his wallet, retrieving a condom with a practiced ease. his lips curved into a small, knowing smile as he prepared it, a thought crossing his mind. it was probably because of you that he’d made it a habit to carry them during cases—an adjustment made in response to your playful insistence on being prepared. he tore open the wrapper and readied himself, then guided you gently but firmly into position. his hands were steady on your hips, helping you align perfectly.

as you settled into position, your breath quickening with anticipation, you glanced at him, a playful edge to your voice. “how much time do we have left?”

spencer’s eyes remained locked on yours as he checked the time. “forty minutes and thirty-two seconds—oh fuck.” the expletive slipped out as you slid onto him, the sudden, intense sensation making his breath hitch.

you leaned in closer, your breaths coming in short, heated bursts as you adjusted to the rhythm. the space between you was charged with electricity, each movement synchronized with a growing intensity.

“don’t stop,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly with pleasure.

spencer’s fingers dug into your hips, his movements becoming more deliberate as he matched your pace. “so pretty like this…” he replied, his voice low and intense. “so fucking pretty.”

as the urgency and desire between you built, spencer’s breath quickened, his hands guiding you with a steady, firm grip. each thrust was met with a soft, satisfied gasp from you, the rhythm between you becoming a fluid, intimate dance.

“doing so good for me baby,” spencer murmured, his voice barely more than a breath as he leaned in to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours with a heated, passionate intensity. his touch was everywhere—his hands on your hips, his fingers trailing along your sides.

your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you both lost yourselves in the sensation. the car’s confined space only seemed to heighten the intimacy of the moment, making each touch and movement feel more intense, more immediate.

with each passing second, the urgency of the situation only added to the thrill. spencer’s focus was entirely on you, his eyes locked onto yours as he pushed you both towards the edge. “we’re almost there,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire and determination. “just a little longer.”

the combination of his touch, his kisses, and the urgency of the moment drove you both closer to the peak. the pleasure built steadily, every sensation amplified in the charged atmosphere. you could feel yourself unraveling, every nerve ending sensitized and every touch magnified. the sensation of him inside you was electrifying, a wave of intense pleasure crashing over you with each movement. your breaths came in ragged gasps, your body trembling as you felt yourself falling apart.

“spencer,” you gasped, your voice breaking with the intensity of the experience. your grip on his shoulders tightened, your entire body tensing as the pleasure reached its peak.

spencer’s eyes were locked onto yours, a mix of awe and desire reflected in his gaze. “i know, i know, i’m almost there,” he murmured, his voice a low, reverent whisper. his hands moved with careful precision, his touch both guiding and responding to your reactions.

as the climax hit, you felt a powerful release, your body shuddering and trembling with the intensity of the moment. your voice broke into a series of breathless cries, each one a testament to the overwhelming pleasure you were experiencing.

as the intensity of the moment enveloped you, spencer’s grip tightened on your hips, his breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps. the way you had fallen apart, your body trembling with pleasure, had driven him to the brink.

his movements became more urgent, his focus solely on the sensation of being inside you, feeling your warmth and responsiveness. you could see the struggle in his eyes, the way his expression shifted from focused desire to complete surrender. “god, i’m close,” he gasped, his voice thick with a mix of urgency and satisfaction. his hands moved more fervently, his rhythm driven by the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.

as you clung to him, your body still trembling from your release, spencer’s movements became erratic. the pleasure built within him until he could no longer hold back. with a series of deep, shuddering breaths, he finally came undone, his body shivering with the force of his climax.

he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breaths ragged and hot against your skin. his hands still rested on your hips, holding you close as he rode out the final waves of his release.

as the intensity of the moment gradually faded, spencer’s touch softened. he pulled you close, his hands gently brushing over your skin as he helped you both come down from the high. his breath was still uneven, but his touch was tender and reassuring.

“are you okay?” he asked softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with a mix of concern and tenderness.

you nodded, a contented smile forming. “yeah, i’m fine. you?”

spencer chuckled, slipping on his shirt. “well, we’ve got approximately 22 minutes to spare.”

you raised an eyebrow, pulling on your top. “and what are we going to do with those 22 minutes?”

he smirked, buttoning his jacket. “well, i could use a quick breather. maybe we can discuss how i should properly schedule my case briefings.”

you laughed, adjusting your clothes. “sounds like a plan. just make sure you don’t forget to factor in the importance of effective timing.” spencer’s grin widened as he straightened his collar. “duly noted. next time, i’ll make sure to account for every possible variable.”

-

꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

[moonlightspencie]

This Ain’t for the Best

Description: Mutual pining. Classic hunting scenarios. Sharing a bed. Wearing the other’s clothes. Confessions. Friends to lovers. Tswizzle title. Need I say more?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!Reader

Warnings: a little bit of violence, me cramming in every cliché i can because i love the classic fanfiction tropes more than i love breathing

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: i was kicking my feet and giggling as i wrote this, especially when i snuck in criminal minds AND taylor swift references. i love writing and never beta-reading or editing what i’ve written. catharsis.

Crashing at Bobby’s had its benefits.

First, we had the comfort of knowing where we were going to sleep at night. It was good to have a bed waiting that wasn’t in a motel room.

Second, there was almost always good food around. I had a knack for home-cooked meals, and it was much easier to be appreciated for it when I actually had a stove to cook on.

Third, there were boundless opportunities for Sam, Dean, and I to kick back and actually relax.

That’s how I ended up in the kitchen, laughing with Dean over old stories we’d told a million times before. He reached in the fridge, pulling out two bottles after we’d come down from the most recent remembrance of an old case. He cracked open the top of his beer, then my drink, sliding it towards me on the counter. Sam and Bobby strolled in st that moment, pausing when they saw us.

“You both woke up like an hour ago,” Sam said, unamused.

“6pm somewhere,” Dean and I said in unison.

We looked at each other with a small laugh, leaving Bobby and Sam rolling their eyes. I took my drink and stood a few steps away.

“We should really get going, though, Dean,” Sam stated.

“Where?” Bobby asked.

“We were planning on doing a run to the grocery story. I don’t want us to eat up all your food without repaying you, and we’re almost out of beer,” Sam said, pointedly looking at his brother.

“This one needs more of those little fruity drinks, too,” Dean teased, nodding at the bottle in my hand.

“Hey, it’s still a malt liquor. Just one that I like,” I said with a laugh.

They said their goodbyes, and I started walking into the front room. Bobby watched the door for a few moment after the boys left, then turned in the archway and locked his gaze on me as I sat on the couch.

I looked at the bottle in my hand. “I know y’all are all about beer, but I can’t help if I prefer something with a little flavor.”

“That’s not why I’m looking at you,” he grumbled, fed up with me already. “What in the world is goin’ on with you and Dean?”

“Huh?”

He furrowed his brow. “Don’t act all shy, now. You two have been flirting nonstop lately.”

“What’s new? We’re both pretty flirtatious in general.”

“Not like this,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know the last time I saw that boy blushing, or you getting all flustered like a teenager.”

“I am not,” I scoffed. “Nothing’s happening, Bobby.”

“I’ve known your for five years, now, and I’ve known those boys since they were kids. You stayed in my house for a year, too. You can’t hide this kind of thing from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything. I’m an open book.”

Now, he scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m running for president.”

I rolled my eyes, taking another drink. He came closer, sitting down next to me.

“If you keep denying all this…”

I swallowed, finally resigning. “There’s nothing to do about it, Bobby.”

“Yes, there is. You could tell him.”

“It wouldn’t do any good. You know how he is, he doesn’t want to be tied down. If we don’t make any moves or promises or whatever, a lot less doesn’t get broken.”

He raised a brow. “I do know how he is. For you, he’d make an exception.”

“I don’t think so. Besides, it’s all just flirting for him. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Are you blind?”

I looked at him, brows raising. He shook his head, picking at the label on his bottle.

“Sorry. I just— I know what I’m seeing, and I really don’t think it’s just a little friendly flirting for him, either,” he said, looking at me again. “I really think you should speak up while you’ve got the chance to. We don’t often get good things with lives like ours.”

“I know. I just don’t want to screw things up.”

“You’re gonna end up screwed if you keep pushing it down, anyway.”

I sighed. He took that signal as a time to change the subject, and for that I was thankful.

“Well, let’s find you the next case, huh?”

The next one was an easy find, and it would’ve been great to break the news to the boys when they got back, if not for a very clumsy Sam walking in the door with a twisted ankle.

“You what?” Bobby asked, incredulous.

Sam sighed, pouting. “I rolled it when I stepped in a pothole.”

Dean shook his head, clearly hiding his amusement as he helped his brother hobble towards a kitchen chair.

“So, no case, then?” I asked.

Bobby perked up. “No, you and Dean can still go. I can take care of Sam.”

“Bobby…” I warned, seeing through him instantly.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Dean said, cutting off my death stare. “When was the last time we went on a case, just you and me?”

I looked at him.

“Seriously, you guys can go without me,” Sam said. “It might be good for you, Y/N. You seem a little restless.”

“I am not,” I defended.

Bobby chuckled. “Sure, you’re not. But I’m not suggesting, I’m telling you. Get out of my house.”

I glanced at him, offended. “I am a delight.”

“You are, but I still want you out. You become much less delightful when you’re antsy.”

Dean laughed. “Come on, it’s only a state over, right? If we start driving now we can make it by sundown.”

I took a moment.

“Alright,” I nodded, heading towards the stairs to gather my things.

The case was a hot mess, to say the least. We couldn’t figure out what we were hunting to begin with, and the only true consistency is that the deaths were messy, leaving each victim with a missing liver. It wasn’t until we were at the most recent site of the death that things took a little bit of a turn.

“What do you think?” Dean asked, leaning in my direction.

I shrugged, looking around the house.

“It seems… clean.”

“I mean, I guess. We haven’t found hex bags or EMF readings—”

“No,” I cut him off, gesturing around the living room. “Like physically clean. Nothing is out of place. Look at the mantle.”

I walked over, using my gloved hand to wipe along the surface. I showed him my hand.

“Clean. Not even dust.”

He raised a brow. “And that matters because…”

“Because we’re supposed to be looking for some monster-unknown that never cleans up their messes. Every other scene we’ve been to has been a wreck, so why is the only thing out of place the blood stains on the floor? This is also the first time it’s been in the victims house.”

He paused. “You’ve been watching Criminal Minds again, haven’t you?”

I rolled my eyes, taking off the glove.

“That’s not important right now,” I shook my head, standing next to him again. “And, for the record, it’s helping our case.”

“Right,” he chuckled. “Well, profiler, why don’t you tell me more about what you’re gathering from the scene.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I said with a laugh.

He smirked, placing a hand on my back.

“Let’s get out of here and figure out why things changed.”

We followed dead-end leads all over town, until we hit a lucky streak.

“Check this out,” Dean said, calling me over to the table in our room. “Remember that dive bar our last vic was seen at? Look at this dude’s last social media post.”

I walked over, resting a hand against the table as I leaned in. I looked at the laptop, raising a brow.

“Same place.”

“Same place,” he confirmed. “Wanna check it out? See if anything suspicious is up?”

“You sure you don’t just want to hit the bar?”

He looked up at me with a quirked brow.

“What do you think I am? Drinking on the job. I’d never,” he feigned innocence.

I snorted. “Right. So not you.”

“Leave in ten?”

“Sounds good to me.”

We hit the road soon after, winding up at the bar with our eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. There was plenty for us to see in a seedy town like this, but there was only one interaction that truly piqued our interested. I nodded at the man who was paying a little too much special attention to a woman, drawing Dean’s gaze in that direction. He was equally skeeved out. We kept an eye out for another hour or so before the weird activity took another step into the creep category.

We followed out the man who we caught following the woman, all the way to a neighborhood just outside the city. We made our move as soon as the man walked up to her house.

I followed Dean up to the house, and we started to slink around, waiting for any sign of trouble. I first checked through a window near the front of the house.

“Nothing,” I said, motioning for us to move further.

He took the lead, and we came up on a window that looked into the dining room. He slowly looked inside.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be freakin’ kidding me,” Dean mumbled, pulling his head back from the window.

“What?”

“Well, do you want the chance to play out your little crime show fantasies?”

I raised a brow. He sighed, shaking his head.

“That’s not— well, it is a monster in there, but not our kind of monster,” he said, tilting his head.

“It’s a human?”

He nodded. “Looks like it. Nothing supernatural that I can see. She’s passed out now, but let’s get a move on before he starts in on her.”

He started walking towards the back of the house, but I stopped him before we got to the door.

“Can— How do we do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s a human. We can’t just chop his head off or exorcise him.”

“We could still stab him.”

“But should we?”

He gave me a very unamused look, waiting for me to make my point.

“Can we attempt to just— Kick his ass and leave him to deal with life in prison? Only go for the shot if it’s necessary.”

He softened. “He killed people, Y/N, does he really deserve mercy here?”

“Do you really think the prison system is mercy?” I asked, earning a slight chuckle. “I just feel weird about killing humans unless our lives are in immediate danger.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Okay, we’ll play it your way. But if anything goes sideways—”

“Then you feel free to shoot him.”

He nodded curtly, then we continued to the door. He opened it carefully, and we stepped inside, checking our surroundings before we headed towards the woman in the dining room. We saw the man first, his back to us as he sat across the table from her.

“Playing house? Really?” Dean quipped, causing the man to whip around.

My gun was pulled before the man had a chance to stand up and react. He looked between us, obvious annoyance on his face.

“You’re not cops,” he stated.

Dean smirked. “No, we are much worse news for scumbags like you.”

“Now,” I started, “you can try and fail to fight your way out of here, or you can sit still while my partner here makes sure you’re sitting nice and pretty for when the cops do show up.”

Dean moved before he had a chance to formulate a response, dragging him out of the chair. The man tried to put up a fight, but it was pretty quickly silenced by means of a fist to the face. Dean left him on the ground after a few minutes and a roll of duct tape.

“Nice,” I commented, then put away my gun.

I moved to the woman at the table who was still passed out. I checked for a pulse, and when I was sure she was still breathing, I started undoing the binding that kept her to the chair. Dean called in an anonymous tip to the police station as I finished up clearing her of everything. She started waking right as I was about to try and move her to the couch.

“Hey, hey,” I said quietly, trying to give a little comfort before her panic set in. “You’re safe now, alright? You’re fine.”

Her eyes opened, and she immediately clung to me when she saw the man on the ground incapacitated.

“What happened?” she asked with a quivering voice.

“Me and my friend Dean saw this guy creeping around your house. We wanted to make sure everything was okay, and when we found out it wasn’t, we found a way in. The cops are on the way now.”

She nodded. “Thank you. Both of you.”

I glanced back at Dean with the ghost of a smile on my face. He raised his brows at me.

“Why don’t we get you to the couch?”

“You’re not staying?” she asked, still in shock.

“No, we gotta leave,” I said, helping her to the couch. “We’ll stick around for a few minutes outside till the cops get here, though.”

“Okay,” she nodded along absentmindedly as she laid on the couch.

I walked back to Dean, motioning for us to go outside. He looked back down at the man for a moment who was still passed out, then followed behind me. We got back to the Impala and waited.

“Weird to be thanked,” I said, watching the house.

He hummed. “Doesn’t happen often, that’s for sure.”

“I can’t believe we were accidentally hunting a serial killer.”

He snorted. “I’m surprised there’s not more crossover when we hunt.”

I hummed in agreement. “I also wonder why things changed so much. From the murders messy and public to being more confined in the homes.”

“Who knows,” he said, shaking his head. “Monsters make a hell of a lot more sense than people do.”

“You got that right.”

Soon enough we saw flashing lights coming down the street. We watched some officers step out of the first car, and a few more get out of an SUV.

“Is that FBI?” Dean asked, looking intently.

“I mean, we just found them a serial killer. They’ve probably been on high alert,” I said.

He nodded, and we watched for another moment as they prepared to go inside.

“Man, those vests are cool as hell in real life, too,” I commented.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he wrapped up the conversation with a laugh.

He pulled off the sidewalk at that, and started driving in the opposite direction of the cops. We decided to stay the night at the motel, neither of us awake enough to get back to Sam and Bobby. He pulled into the parking lot, and we trudged inside.

“At least we aren’t covered in monster guts this time,” I said as I fell onto the mattress.

“Right?” He chuckled. “Cool if I take the first shower?”

“Of course. I’ll be here.”

He shut the door of the bathroom, and I let out a sigh. All of the teamwork bull crap we’d been doing certainly didn’t help my case, but I could at least be thankful he didn’t want to go the bars and find a hookup. I threw my arms over my eyes and sighed.

“Hey,” I heard Dean’s voice call out, his hand on my knee.

I uncovered my eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve dozed off.”

He smiled. “Go take a shower.”

“You sayin’ I need one?” I asked with a quirked brow.

“Yeah. You’re a mess,” he replied, a playful glint in his eye. “I don’t know how I sat in a car with you all day, to be honest.”

I scoffed, getting up. He moved enough for me to get by, but didn’t let me get far before he started talking again.

“Movie tonight?” he asked.

I rustled through my bag, pulling out my pajama shorts.

“Sure.”

“Any requests?”

“Uh,” I started, still looking for a clean top. “Maybe a comedy. We could use something funny.”

“Good point.” He stared for a moment as I kept digging. “You missing something?”

“I can’t find my t-shirt. I thought I packed three in here.”

“Do you want one of mine?”

I paused, considering the offer. One one hand, I wouldn’t have to wear a cami to bed and risk accidentally flashing him in my sleep. One the other, I’d be wearing his shirt and that would be a sure way to get me in my own head. The risks of the first definitely outweighed my lack of self control.

“That would be awesome.”

He walked to his own bag, pulling out a shirt that matched the one he wore and handing it to me.

“I still think wearing our outside clothes to bed worked just fine.”

“Did you ever feel rested doing that?” I asked.

He sighed dramatically. I laughed.

“Exactly my point,” I said. “Most of your well-being has to do with mindset, Dean.”

He grumbled to himself as he settled into bed, and I took that as my chance to get in the bathroom. My shower was quick, especially since Dean used up most of the hot water. I knew I should’ve gone first, but it forced me not to stay in forever. I pulled on his shirt and my shorts, trying not to let myself smile when I saw myself in the mirror wearing his clothes. I walked back into the room before I allowed myself to think too hard.

He looked at me as I walked out, a smile creeping on his face. I fought back my own to raise a brow as I lingered at the foot of my bed.

“What?”

He shrugged. “Funny seeing you in my shirt.”

“Looks better on me than it ever did on you,” I sassed with a smirk, crawling into bed.

“Can’t argue with that,” he noted, still watching me. He cleared his throat a moment later, looking at the TV screen. “Uh, I found something, I think. They had Step Brothers on demand.”

“Oh, perfect,” I said as he clicked play.

We settled into a comfortable silence for a while, and I cuddled into the duvet. After we were halfway through the movie, I gathered the blankets around me even more.

“Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?” I asked, looking over to see Dean still sitting above the covers.

“It’s a little cold,” he shrugged, then looked at me. “I can check the heater.”

I nodded as he got up and crossed the room. He held a hand out, a puzzled look on his face after a moment. He smacked it with his hand, and still felt nothing.

“Hm. Hang on,” he said, moving to the phone. “Hi, I think the heater in here’s broken.”

A pause.

“Ah, great. Okay, thanks.”

He hung up the phone, looking to me apologetically.

“They said the heating’s down in the whole place.”

I sighed. “That sucks.”

He sat back in his bed, looking at me for a moment before he spoke again.

“I know it’s been a while since we had to, but do you wanna come sleep in my bed tonight? I run hot, it might keep you warm.”

“I know. I had to sleep next to you in the summer, and it was like roasting in an oven,” I chuckled.

“See? It’ll work perfect when you’re cold,” he said, standing again.

He pulled the covers back, getting underneath and patting the mattress next to him. I cursed myself for finding this case in the first place.

“Just don’t complain if I kick you in my sleep,” I said, getting out of my bed.

He chuckled. “I’m not worried about it.”

I got into his bed, and he threw the covers over me. He then reached over top of me to grab the remote, pressing play and slinging an arm around my shoulders. I pulled the duvet up to my chin, leaning into his side.

This position put me in a delicate spot, and I found that to be true more and more with every passing minute. Every time he laughed, I felt it reverberate in his chest. Every time he talked to me, I’d look up to see his face inches from mine. Every time he moved, he held me a little tighter.

In short, Bobby was all too correct about me being screwed.

“Hey,” Dean said, voice soft. “You okay?”

“Mm?”

I looked at him, once again trying not to think about the proximity.

“You always laugh at this scene. You didn’t make a sound this time.”

“Oh,” I chuckled, looking towards the screen. “Sorry, I must be exhausted.”

“Is that all? Seems like there’s something on your mind.”

“Alright, Dr. Phil,” I joked.

“Seriously,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I think I just need some sleep,” I replied, glancing at him again with half a smile.

He quirked a brow, clearly not believing me, but willing to drop the subject.

“Okay. You know you can always talk to me?”

“I know.”

He smiled softly, then looked back at the TV as he shut it off. He settled into bed, still holding onto me. I snuggled into his side, using his chest as a pillow. I felt him breathe deep before he shut off the light.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night, Dean.”

I woke up the next morning before he did, and decided there was little harm in remaining there. I shut my eyes, letting myself enjoy the fact that I was still snuggled against him. It gave me a moment to pretend he was mine, at least for the morning. I listened to his breathing, and wondered if he ever dreamt about me in the same way I did about him. As if on cue, his arm tightened around me a little as he stirred. His thumb brushed against my shoulder where his hand had snuck under the sleeve of the t-shirt, though I couldn’t tell if he was really awake until I felt a soft kiss against the top of my head.

At that moment, I decided it was probably best to continue pretending I was still asleep.

He stayed that way for a little while, his hand still against my shoulder, making little patterns with his thumb. It took everything in me not to move when I felt him brush a few stray pieces of hair away from my face, and even more when he let his hand linger against my cheek for when felt like a few seconds too long to be purely friendly.

I wondered if he was always like this when I wasn’t awake. Extra attentive, and sure not to wake me. Maybe that’s why I somehow remained asleep every time I fell asleep in the car that normally jostled me around like a rag doll with his driving. I wondered even more if Bobby was right about something else he’d said days ago: the unrequited feelings might not be so unrequited after all.

I nestled my head against his chest, trying to give him a warning that I was about to open my eyes, and he quickly pulled his hand away from my face. I took in a breath, blinking slowly as I let the light seep in for the second time that morning.

“Morning,” he greeted quietly, his voice still soft and raspy from tiredness.

I smiled. “Morning.”

“You hungry?” he asked, drawing my attention to him.

I nodded, leaning back a little to see him better.

“Very, and I saw a café on the way into town that looked good,” I said.

He smiled softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. Then, he yawned, finally sitting up. He turned and looked at me as I stayed laying.

“How’d you sleep? Warm enough?”

“Thanks to you, yeah,” I replied, stretching. “I’m scared to get out of bed, now, though.”

He patted my leg over the covers, “If you want food, that should be motivation enough.”

“Good point.”

I reluctantly climbed out of bed as he walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It was cold, but not unbearable. I decided to throw on some clothes in the room since he always took a while in the bathroom. By the time he was finished, all I needed to do was wash my face and brush my teeth, then we were off.

Breakfast was short and sweet, and we made it back to Bobby’s in record time. We strolled in the door, seeing Sam gimping around the kitchen as soon as we walked in.

“Still letting that ankle beat your ass?” I asked immediately.

He laughed. “Trust me, if I had any control over it, this wouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”

“Maybe you just wanted out of the hunt,” I said in reply.

“Oh yeah, I loved hanging out and making Bobby bring me ice packs all day. Dream vacation, actually.”

Dean shook his head with a smirk. “You didn’t miss out on much anyway.”

“How’d it go?” Sam asked as he took a seat.

I looked to Dean who was already glancing in my direction. I shrugged.

“We stopped a serial killer, actually,” I noted.

Sam gaped. “And I ‘didn’t miss much’?”

“Just knocked him out and called the cops. Not much fun, anyways,” Dean shrugged. “Oh, we did find maybe the best pancakes I’ve ever had, though.”

I hummed in agreement enthusiastically, nodding.

“They were freaking incredible,” I said, then looked back at Sam. “And they had like, real, fresh maple syrup.”

“Unlimited stacks when you bought the platter, too,” Dean chimed in with a gleeful smile.

“You two sound like an old married couple,” Sam scoffed out with a laugh. “What, did you fall asleep together after reading the newspaper, too?”

“After watching a movie, actually,” Dean corrected, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Then, he looked at me. “Did you want anything?”

“I’m okay.”

Sam looked between us, a raised brow and an amused look on his face.

“You two actually fell asleep together?”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s what you choose to focus on?”

He smiled mischievously, then looked at Dean.

“Making moves on her, now?”

Dean swallowed, glaring at his brother with wide eyes. I furrowed my brow, about to see if I could prod Sam for information, but Bobby walked in before I had the chance.

“Hey, you two. How was the hunt?”

Dean let out a breath. “Not real eventful. I could use some sleep.”

He started walking out of the room, all of us watching as he left. Bobby turned to me first, a questioning look on his face.

“Don’t look at me,” I said with my hands up in defense. “I think Sammy pissed him off.”

“Real smooth, Sam,” Bobby commented.

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. Bobby merely sighed, going to take a seat across from Sam. I looked at them both, hands on my hips.

“Why do I get the feeling you two know something I don’t?”

“Did Dean not talk to you?” Sam asked, looking at me.

“We talk plenty.”

“That’s not what I mean. He said he was gonna talk to you when the next case was over,” he stopped, then looked at Bobby. “Case came and went, and still nothing.”

Bobby shrugged. “Out of our hands, Sam. Told you not to meddle.”

I sighed in annoyance. “You two are children, you know that?”

“Hey,” Bobby said, offended.

“I’m gonna take a walk,” I said finally, turning for the door.

The second I was halfway out, they started talking again, but I couldn’t bring myself to care too much about what they said. Clearing my mind sounded like the best option, and I was determined to do it.

I started walking around the yard, music blaring from my phone to keep me preoccupied as I watched the sky light up with a million different colors. I found an old car with a relatively clean exterior and decided to climb onto the hood. I leaned back, watching the sky as it turned darker, the stars slowly peaking out.

“Room for one more?” Dean’s voice asked from behind me.

“Come on up,” I said, scooting over a bit.

He came and sat next to me, looking up at the sky. He let out a slow breath, then looked at me.

“Taylor Swift?”

“You know it,” I replied.

He smiled, turning his head back.

“Stars are coming out,” he commented.

“They are. You should’ve seen sunset, it was gorgeous.”

He scooted closer, leaning his head against mine silently. After a moment, I let myself lean against his shoulder a little more.

“You okay, Dean?” I asked after a beat.

“Of course. Why?”

“I dunno. You just seemed a little off when we got back today.”

He sighed. “Yeah. It’s— It’s nothing.”

“You sound like me, now.”

He chuckled. “Guess we’ve got the same bad habit, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so.”

We stayed there until it got dark enough to really see the stars come out, not moving even when the chill of the night started creeping in. I readjusted my head against his shoulder, preparing myself to speak again.

“Did you really follow me out here just to look at stars?”

I felt him still. Then, after a moment, I sat up a little straighter and looked at him. He glanced back at me, clearly feeling caught out.

“Thought you could use some company.”

I raised a brow, and he smirked, looking away.

“Alright, you got me,” he said, “What gave it away?”

“First off, I’ve known you for years,” I started, nudging him in the arm. “Second, Sam and Bobby were all uppity about the fact that you apparently told Sam you had something to talk to me about.”

“I swear, he can’t keep a secret to save his life when it comes to stuff like this,” he said, rubbing at his face.

“Well, try me,” I said, unable to keep my eyes off of him. He was extra cute all flustered. “I’m a good listener.”

He let out a breath, then looked at me, scanning my face for a moment.

“I know I’ve got a certain type of reputation—”

“You?! No way,” I exclaimed with a smile, my eyes wide.

He laughed. “Exactly my point.”

“You know I don’t care about that, though. Reputations are a one-sided story.”

He hummed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

He sighed, looking back at the sky for a moment.

“I just,” he started, giving a shrug, “I feel like it— Like it makes people feel like I never want anything but a hookup, you know?”

“It makes people feel that way?”

“I’m that easy to read, huh?” he asked, looking at me again with a faint smile. “You. I mean you.”

“I gathered that much.”

He laughed softly, as did I.

“How’d you know?”

“I had suspicions fueled by Bobby. Then you kissed me and started being all affectionate when you thought I was asleep this morning.”

His eyes widened. “You were pretending to be asleep? That’s so not fair!”

“Hey, I woke up snuggled into my own personal space heater, I didn’t exactly want to be up and at ‘em.”

He rolled his eyes, tugging me into his side with an arm around my shoulders once more.

“How long has it been for you?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t even know. I guess I started realizing it a year or so ago.”

“That’s embarrassing for me, then. I knew the second I met you,” he said with a laugh.

“Dean,” I said with surprise. “It’s been half a decade! No wonder Bobby got on my ass about it before we left.”

“Well, hey, Sammy’s been on mine for a couple years. You got off easy up till now.”

I laughed. “I guess so. To be fair, we were flying under the radar for quite a while, though. The incessant flirting the past few weeks is what got us in trouble.”

“Why did you start being extra flirty, anyway?” he asked, resting his cheek against the top of my head.

“I don’t know. I guess I was, like, subconsciously seeing a window. You haven’t been doing your normal bar hookups the past few months, so I thought maybe there was a reason for it,” I paused. “Though, finding out you’ve been crushing on me for five years kind of makes me question that.”

He snorted out a laugh. “Easier to keep my mind off you that way. That sounds terrible. I just— I never thought in a million years you’d think anything of me.”

“Well, when did you realize I might?”

He sighed. “You remember a couple weeks back when we were taking down that vamp nest? You easily could’ve died, and we hugged afterwards, but when I pulled back I… I saw that look in your eyes that seemed an awful lot like how I look at you when you’re not paying attention. I wanted to kiss you, and I didn’t doubt in that moment that you would’ve let me if I had.”

I paused. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared. We’ve been friends for so long, and we practically do everything together. I didn’t want to ruin anything on the off chance that I was reading those signs all wrong.”

“You weren’t.”

He fell quiet for a moment. I looked up at him, and he looked back at me as I did. He quickly wet his lips, drawing my gaze downward before my eyes flicked back up to his. His lips parted momentarily. Then…

“We should get back inside. It’s getting cold out here,” he said quickly.

I nodded curtly, pulling away to let him get off the hood first. He gave me a hand, helping me down next. We walked back to the house quietly, saying soft goodnights before we went to separate rooms.

I was all settled in for the night, cozy in my bed with a book in hand. Then, I heard a knock on the door. I grumbled as I got up, annoyed that I had to leave the comfort of a mattress that wasn’t a sure cesspool of germs I didn’t want to think about. I flung the door open.

“Someone better be dying or I’m gonna kick some ass for—”

Dean’s lips crashed into mine, effectively silencing me from my rant. I melted after a few seconds of mental delay, my hands gripping onto the material of his shirt as his cradled my face. I felt him smile into the kiss, drawing my closer with arms that snuck around my waist, holding me tight. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss once he was sure that the signs were all giving him a positive response.

We finally broke apart a few minutes later, breathing heavy with pounding hearts.

“I figured I should stop letting opportunities pass me up,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, good thinking.”

His eyes scanned over me, his chest still heaving.

“You wouldn’t happen to need another space heater for the night, would you?”

“I run cold, what can I say?” I replied with a smirk, and a spark in my eye.

He smiled, walking me into the room with his lips on mine, kicking the door shut behind him.

(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)

FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

[loganhowlettshousewife]

animal

chapter 1

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: non-sexual nudity, swearing, some sexual-ish thoughts

series masterlist │my masterlist

you had been baking a pie, rolling out the homemade dough for the crust, humming along with the soft music playing through the house, when through the open window you’d seen him. a large man, as naked as the day he was born, running towards your farm. you could only watch in numb shock as he went into your barn, now hidden from view.

what the fuck.

you haven’t been inside that barn in over a year. the farm belonged to your grandparents, and you’d inherited the property after they died. while you love the peace and quiet that came from living in the middle of nowhere, you aren’t a farm girl, so the barn went largely unused.

you think about just leaving the man alone, hoping that he’ll leave eventually.

you keep rolling out the dough, soothing repetitive motions, while you stare at the barn, expecting something else to happen. but nothing does. you almost think you made the man up in a moment of insanity.

it’s this that gets you to finally exit the house, anxiously heading towards the old barn with its creaking wood and chipped paint. you take a deep breath to prepare yourself before stepping inside, every nerve in your body screaming at you that this is a very bad idea. 

you’re both relieved and not when you see the man curled up in a corner. relieved, because you weren’t going insane, and not because, well, now you’re going to have to deal with this strange situation.

you take a step closer when he doesn’t lunge at you to attack, then immediately jump back at the gleaming metal claws that appear from between his knuckles. one second he seems mostly harmless - or at least as harmless as a buff, six foot tall man could be - and the next he’s growling at you, face twisted into a snarl, body tense and ready to pounce at the slightest wrong move.

“hi,” you say, softly, the way you were taught to speak to distressed animals. the man cocks his head to the side but doesn’t lunge at you, which you take as a good sign. “i won’t hurt you, promise. but i am curious to know what led you here.”

by here, you mean both the physical location of your house in the middle of nowhere but also whatever reason he has for running through said middle of nowhere naked. there’s some kind of story there, likely not a good one judging by the way he watches you distrustfully. you have a feeling he hasn’t had a good or easy life.

the man doesn’t answer, not that you really expected him to, but slowly his claws retreat back into his skin. he’s marginally less threatening like this, though you know the smallest thing could bring the sharp blades back out.

despite this, you don’t believe he’s a danger to you. he just seems scared and confused.

“are you hungry?” you ask him. again, he doesn’t answer, and you wonder if he’s able to speak. “okay, how about this, i’ll bring you food and you don’t have to eat it but you can. i’ll be right back.”

you don’t turn your back on the barn, on him, as you jog back into your house. it’s much warmer inside than it is in the barn - you were so distracted that you hadn’t been feeling the full effect of the early winter cold. you think of the man, he must be freezing, but you hadn’t seen any sign of it, no shivering, not even goosebumps raising on his skin.

one thing at a time, you tell yourself.

your half-finished pie is sitting discarded on the kitchen counter and you look at it mournfully. you’ll finish it later, and maybe you’ll actually have someone to enjoy it with you.

(it gets lonely sometimes, so far from any cities or towns. usually, you don’t mind it, but apparently there’s some small part of you that still desperately craves human contact and interaction, since you’re jumping at the chance to take care of a random stranger.)

you have leftovers in the fridge that you suppose will have to do, since making him a fresh, home-cooked meal would take time, and you’d promised to return hastily. you heat it up quickly, the warmth emanating from the food another reminder of the frigid temperature outside as you bring the plate into the barn. 

he looks up when you enter, sniffing the air like a dog. it’s cute, and you smile as you put the plate down, careful not to get too close to him, letting him make the first move.

whether he trusts you or he’s just starving you don’t know, but he rushes to your side and starts eating like he hasn’t had food in a month. with him distracted and closer to you, you can get a better look at him. 

he doesn’t look malnourished. he’s buff, muscular and hairy, and you have to stop your eyes from going lower as you stare at his chest.

you look away despite the man being too distracted to notice your shameless ogling. he might be the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life - or you’ve just been away from men for too long and have become pathetic.

he eats quickly, and looks up expectantly at you when he finishes, like a dog at their owner. you giggle at the comparison you’ve made in your head - it’s quite accurate, you find, with the way he immediately seems to trust you now that you’ve fed him.

“do you wanna go inside? it’s pretty cold out here, and inside i have more food.” you say, and when you go to stand up so does he. you explicitly do not look down.

he follows you into your house, and you’re so glad you live alone so there’s no one to question whatever is happening.

it’s easy to find extra clothes in the guest room, less easy to find any that you think will fit him. eventually, you give up, hoping the sweatpants you found will do for now, and grab one of your own shirts, thankful for your habit of buying oversized men’s t-shirts. it goes down to your thighs, surely it’ll fit him.

you turn to head back into the living room where you left him, and your soul nearly leaves your body when you spot him standing at the door. you yelp, your hand flying to your chest and the clothes falling to the ground.

he startles at the noise, tensing and looking around like he expects danger. 

“shit,” you swear, “how are you so quiet?”

he frowns, and you could swear that he seems apologetic, though you aren’t sure how accurate your interpretations of his facial expressions are given that you’ve only known him for about an hour. it makes you feel a little guilty, though really you shouldn’t be since he snuck up on you.

you’re about to offer him the clothes when you pause, gaze locked on his chest. “you should shower.”

he follows you when you lead him to the bathroom, which you take as agreement on his part. he’s dirty, covered everywhere by a thin layer of dirt. a shower will feel good. it would also give you time to process this without him watching you. his eyes are quite intense, and he keeps them directed at you. you need the privacy to freak out.

it’s only after you place the clothes down on the countertop and show him how the knobs in your shower work that you realise he’s not making any moves to enter the shower. you start to leave the bathroom and he takes a step to follow you.

you stop, thinking about how he doesn’t seem to know how to speak, how he looked so scared and confused when you’d found him, and you sigh when you realise it’s likely he doesn’t know how to use a shower either.

what is your story? you think to yourself.

“do you want help?” is what you ask instead.

he nods slowly, which is the closest you’ve gotten to a response from him so far. you look up at the ceiling, inhaling deeply and bracing yourself when you realise this means you’re going to have to touch the hot, naked man.

you turn on the shower, waiting for it to warm up before you motion for the man to get in. you are absolutely not willing to get naked in the shower with a stranger whose name you don’t even know, so you step in fully clothed, already regretting it when you feel the fabric growing wet and sticking to your skin.

it’s as you’re helping rinse the dirt off him that you spot the writing on his dog tags. you’d noticed them previously but hadn’t been able to get a good look. 

you take the metal chain in your hand, turning it to read the name stamped into the metal.

“logan,” you read, and the man in front of you purrs, a low rumble in his throat. you smile. “i’m going to guess that’s your name. logan.”

this seems to relax the last dredges of tension that he holds. he practically melts into you, and the feeling of being trusted so fully by someone who seems so broken warms your heart in a way that you haven’t felt in years.

you finish washing him up in silence, only interrupted by occasional soft purrs and hums from logan. he quite enjoys it when you wash his hair, hands reaching up to scrub shampoo into the strands, nails scratching at his scalp. you switch your earlier comparison from a dog to a cat, the purring reminding you of the kitten you had growing up.

he shakes his head when he gets out of the shower, water flying everywhere, and you laugh as you hand him a towel. you once again have to help him when he just stares at it like he doesn’t know what to do with it.

he gets dressed on his own, thankfully, since you already feel like you might implode from being in such close quarters with an extremely attractive, wet, nude man for so long. 

you leave him for a minute to dry yourself off and change into dry clothes. it’s nice to have a moment of reprieve, where you can simply breathe and process and question what the fuck you just got yourself into. you finally allow yourself to freak out a tiny bit, muttering to yourself in the mirror, tugging at your hair.

you just manage to pull a shirt over your head when you hear quiet whimpering at the door and the sound of loud banging against it.

your heart breaks at the sound, reminded of the wounded animals your grandparents would nurse back to health, and you rush to pull some pants on so you can open the door. logan looks at you with the most devastated eyes and then falls into you, face nudging into your neck, inhaling deeply. you stumble back, thankful for the wall that catches you. he’s heavier than he looks, which is saying something, given his size.

you’re shocked for a moment, frozen, but quickly come back to yourself and place your hands on his firm back.

“i’m sorry,” you say, “i didn’t mean to scare you. i wasn’t going to leave you, i just needed privacy for a moment.”

you don’t know if he understands anything you’re saying but it makes you feel better to explain yourself. you’re shocked that this is the same man who was snarling at you, claws out and ready to rip your throat out not so long ago, shocked at how quickly he’s grown attached to you.

shocked at how quickly you’ve grown attached to him, too. then again, you’ve always been this way. you like to help people, and logan seems like a man who needs a lot of help.

“i was baking a pie, when i saw you,” you tell him, “how about we go finish that? you don’t have to leave my side. you can watch me and i’ll teach you all my secrets.”

and as you expected, he follows you into the kitchen, trailing after you like a lost puppy. normally, you hate having anyone else in the kitchen with you, getting in your way when you’re in the zone, but his presence is nice. he doesn’t speak, doesn’t distract you or get in your way, just stands and watches you intently.

you’re already used to having him here with you, comfortable enough to turn your back to him. it’s crazy, and a (big) part of you knows that this isn’t exactly a smart thing to do, but you’re already planning on letting him stay for as long as he needs, maybe even forever.

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams

[mindless-existence1]

Sub Gojo is a Virgin and you take his card

Summery: When you and Gojo start dating he's definitely acts all experienced, newsflash he's not. So when it comes to your first time he's a bit apprehensive. But eventually you get to rock his world.

REQUESTS OPEN PLS SEND! REQUESTS OPEN FOR FLUFF AND KINKTOBER AS WELL.

Authors note: This was run to write but took so long istg. This is a reader who has a dick but that's the only thing relating to gender or physical appearance. Enjoy!

For a while now your boyfriend Gojo has been acting....strange. He's always been cocky, calling himself "the honored one" and acting like he owns the world. Even when it comes to dating he seems to be the most experienced in the feild. He sure acts like it.

But a few weeks ago to were making out during movie night- a semi regular occurrence -and you thought 'finally a good time to get steamy with your mega super hot boyfriend which you love dearly'.

But when you attempted to take it further he immediately stopped you. Gojo's infinity went up, which it's never up around you, this caused your hand to be pushed away from him and you stopped having contact entirely. He seemed flush and almost embarrassed by the hand that was moving higher up his thigh.

Gojo quickly rushed out a mumbled excuse about wanting to watch the movie. It took him a minute to take down the infinity so the two of you could cuddle again. What was weird is that you could tell the boner he had was hurting, it was straining against the fabric of his pants as he failed to hide it.

But you didn't wish to push as to not make him uncomfortable. If Gojo didn't want to take the next step then you guys weren't going to take the next step. But it has been weeks since then and you've be together for a while and yet...nothing. What surprises you the most is how he's gone this long without sex.

Before you started dating he seemed to be with a new girl every night and now nothing. You know Gojo isn't cheating on you so how has he been able to hold himself back, and why?

That takes you to now, the two of you were cuddling on his bed just doing your own things on your phones. You couldn't pay attention to whatever you were looking at though. "Hey Satoru, can I ask a question?" You ask turning slightly so you were facing him.

"Well you just did but I'll let you ask another one." He chuckles as you roll your eyes. Gojo puts down his phone and props himself onto his elbow. Despite feeling self continous out of your mind you decide to ask your question straight up.

"Why haven't we had sex yet? Is it something I did or what?" You start to ramble slightly, suddenly everything comes pouring out. After a few second Gojo leans forward and catching you in a kiss the effectively shuts you up.

"You could have just asked nicely you know? Didn't think you were this desperate." He teases you again but this time his voice wavers and he seems unsure of himself, very un-Gojo like. "Well whenever I tried to start something you pushed away." Your basically pouting against his lips now.

"I- well um" Gojo stutters out some nonsense and turns his head away slightly in embarrassment. "I just thought maybe you didn't want to." Gojo's excuse is weak at best and he knows it. You notice his weird behavior but can tell something is going on.

"Well how about now, I want to. Do you?" Your questions makes him fumble but he nods his head. You put a hand on his cheek and lean in to kiss him, Gojo responds but can't match your pace.

When you move to sit on Gojo lap he outs his hands on your waist. After a minute of making out you slowly kiss his cheek and move down towards his neck. "Y-, Y/n wait." You keep kissing the same spot on his neck that you know makes him squirm.

Humming out a response you stop your attack on his neck so he can talk. "I- ummm I've never..... you know." Gojo makes a motion with his hands that almost makes you chuckle, but you feel this isn't a joking situation.

It does take you by surprise tho, what does he mean he hasn't done anything? The Statoru Gojo, the honored one, the one who brags about how much a ladies man he is, who has girls fawning over him day and night, is a virgin?  He must have taken your silence as a bad sign by the way he lightly pushed at your shoulders.

"I get it if you don't want to anymore." He rushes out, before he pushes you away you bite down onto his neck. Gojo whines and his arms go slack on your shoulders. "It's ok baby, that just means I get to take carre of you tonight."

He feels your hot breath on his skin and flinches slightly, "Yes- fuck please." Gojo's begging falters in embarrassment but makes your core twist. Your pants start to get tightens and you make a move to slip your hands under his shirt.

Before you can get underneath the fabric an invisible force pushes you away. Although his infinity isn't as big as normal it is still covering Gojo in a way that keeps you from touching him. It takes you by suprise but by the way he reacted he seems suprised to.

"Fuck- please I can't control it I'm sorry-" Gojo babbles out nonsense as the infinity wavers, cutting in and out. "Oh but Satoru I can't make you feel good if you keep this up." You purr near his ear. He chokes on a moan and rambles out more apologies.

"Common pretty boy, don't you want me to make you feel good?" The nickname causes him to falter which results in the infinity falling down as well. The second you know it's off you quickly lean in locking Gojo in a kiss.

He whines in it when he feels your hands rubbing up on his torso. Gojo's breathing gets shaky, he fumbles to taking his shirt off. You chuckle, "It's ok Satoru, just calm down. Let yourself enjoy it." He weakly nods his head.

Gojo's pale chest is flushed a deep red, with a swift moment you brush your hands over his perk nipples. He whimpers at the foreign feeling, "How do you want to do this baby?" You voice is smooth like honey, you're  kissing up and down his toned chest.

"I- I want you to" Gojo fumbles to get the words out, embarrassment evident in his words. "Common pretty boy just use your words." Your tone makes him grip the back of your shirt.

He mumbles something under his breath you cant hear. "Use. Your. Words." You voice is sterner than before and it makes Gojo gulp. "Fuck me," after a heavy breath "please."

His desperate voice makes your dick get harder. When you starts to pull at Gojo's pants he lifts his hips to help you. Under your breath you say 'there you go.' “Someones excited” You smile, tracing the bulge through his boxers. “All for me?” You tease into his ear, slowly moving your hands to palm him.

Gojo let's out a deep moan at the feeling. “Hurry up.” He whines, bucking his hips up into his hands. You pull at his boxers, bringing them down past his knees and let him kick them off.

You look down to where Gojo is trying to close his legs but can't with you between them. “So pretty but you gotta keep your legs open baby.” You tell him while puts hands on his knees and keeping them open.

"Sorry.” He whines at being so exposed and keeps his dead down cast. His hands are desperately holding onto you. One griping your shoulder, the other tangled in the hair at your neck.

Gojo vaguely registers the sound of a lube bottle opening but doesn't process it till he feels your slick hand on him. He gasps in suprise but it quickly turns into a wavering moan.

After a minute of prep you line yourself up to thrust into him. "I'll go slow, promise." He nods his head in understanding. You slowly slide in, careful to not hurt him.

"Fuck- so full." Gojo mumbles out more curses while leaning his head down onto your shoulder. He grips your shoulders when you fully thrust in. He arches his back at the feels and you can see the tears bubbling up in his closed eyes.

"Doing so good for me." He whimpers at the praise. You slowly start to thrust your hips faster as Gojo starts to to get used to the feeling. One hand grips his waist and the other starts to pump his length.

He can feel the pleasure bubbling inside him, his legs shake from where they are wrapped around your waist. Gojo can tell he looks pathetic but he can't bring himself to care when you are treating him so well.

Somehow you must know he's about to come from the way you smile and lean in to bite at his flushed neck. After another minute of pleasure he can tell you are getting close to and starts babbling incoherently.

"It's ok, promise. Just let go." He whimpers with a tight grip on your forarm. "Fuck, fuck, fuck I can't. S-so good." A high pitched whine tears through his throat. Your hips thrusts faster into him to match the pase of you hand on him.

The sheet beneath you gets pulled and crumpled from how hard Gojo is gripping it. For a split second you think it might tear, the worry is thrown out the window from how pretty he looks like this.

Tears run from his bright eyes and down his flushed face. There's a light coat of sweat that covers his torso and shaking legs. The moans pouring from his lips are sinful music to your ears. "Cumming- I'm, I'm cumming." He mumbled between gasps of air.

"Good boy just let it go. I've got you." With a final thrust of your hips and hand he comes with a choked off moan. Following suit after him you still your hips, just barley moving your hands to help him through the after shocks.

Your panting breath and Gojo's quiet whimpers are all that can't be heard in the room. You slowly set down the wobbly legs you were holding moments before.

When Gojo doesn't talk you start to worry, "Satoru? You ok?" He nods, moving a hand to his chest where just a minute earlier he came all over. "I feel gross though, aren't you supposed to give me princess treatment after this?"

Although his voice is horse and shaky you can hear the joke in it. You chuckle and shake your head. "Of course only the best treatment for you princess." You joke back giving him a kiss on the cheek with a smile.

[theonottsbxtch]

NO TIME TO DIE | OP81

an: okay so no one actually asked for this but i was listening to the song and it made me want to continue the skyfall series, this is set a few months after skyfall, enjoy!

wc: 4.5k

The sound of waves rolling in against the shore had become part of the rhythm of their days. It was peaceful here, tucked away on the coast of a quiet Mediterranean town. The sun-drenched pier stretched into the turquoise water, where Oscar worked hauling crates and helping local fishermen. It was nothing like the life they’d once known—missions, danger, codes whispered through secure lines. Here, they were just two people trying to blend into the ordinary world.

She wiped her hands on her apron, glancing out through the bar’s open window to catch a glimpse of Oscar by the docks. He was laughing with one of the fishermen, his tanned skin gleaming under the late afternoon sun. He looked happy. They both did. But a part of her could never fully relax. Even after months in hiding, there was always that nagging thought that someone, somewhere, was still watching.

The bar wasn’t busy today. A few tourists sat in the shaded corners, sipping drinks as they chatted over maps and travel guides. She moved behind the counter, mixing another round of cocktails for a group at the far end of the bar. The usual routine.

That’s when she saw him.

At first, it was just a glimpse—a man in a pale blue linen suit, sitting alone at the corner table. He hadn’t been there when she’d last looked. Something about the sharpness in his posture, the calm, predatory stillness, sent a wave of unease through her. She couldn’t place why until he tilted his head to accept the drink she was serving to him, and their eyes met.

Her stomach dropped.

It was Zak. Oscar’s old boss.

Her hands froze on the cocktail shaker, and she almost dropped it. The world narrowed around her as she fought to keep her expression neutral, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. He didn’t seem to recognise her. Not yet. But she knew it was only a matter of time. Her mind raced. Why was he here? Had he found them? Or was this just a coincidence, some cruel twist of fate?

For a second, she considered ducking out the back door, running to Oscar, and telling him to pack whatever they could and leave—again. But she couldn’t draw attention to herself. Not here, not now.

Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile and set the drink on his table.

“Your whiskey, sir,” she said, her voice steady despite the panic rising in her throat.

His eyes flicked up to hers, cool and calculating. He gave a nod of thanks, his gaze lingering a moment longer than she liked. Too long.

Her hands were trembling as she turned back toward the bar. She needed to get to Oscar—before it was too late.

Her heart raced as she stepped back behind the bar, her hands still shaking from the brief encounter. She could feel his eyes on her, watching, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew exactly who she was. She had to move—now.

With a quick glance at the handful of customers, she slipped into the small kitchen behind the bar. The second she was out of sight, she ripped off her apron and tossed it onto a counter. Panic surged through her as she moved to the back door, hands fumbling with the latch. Every second counted. She had to get to Oscar before they were trapped here. Before it was too late.

She pushed the door open—only for it to slam back shut in her face.

She stumbled backward, startled, and that’s when she saw him. Leaning against the doorframe, casual as ever, stood Lando.

“Not so fast, sweetheart.”

His voice was low, smooth, but laced with that same dark edge she remembered too well. His sniper instincts, the way he moved—silent and lethal. She hadn’t seen him since that night a mission months ago, she never forgot his face. Or how dangerous he was.

Her heart pounded as she took a step back, her hand instinctively moving to her side—only to realise she wasn’t armed. She had been in hiding too long, letting her guard down, forgetting what it was like to be hunted. And Lando, it seemed, hadn’t forgotten at all.

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he stepped forward. "Oscar around? I’m guessing that Zak would love to have a chat with him, too.”

“Go to hell, Lando,” she spat, dropping into a defensive stance. Rusty or not, she wasn’t going down without a fight.

Lando lunged at her, fast and brutal. She dodged to the side, just barely avoiding the punch aimed at her face, but his movements were sharper than she remembered. He swung again, and this time his fist grazed her ribs, knocking the wind out of her. Pain shot through her side, but she didn’t let it slow her down.

She pivoted, using the cramped space to her advantage, grabbing a heavy frying pan off the nearby counter and swinging it at his head. He ducked just in time, but the clang of metal echoed through the kitchen. She swung again, this time catching him in the shoulder.

Lando grunted, staggering back, but he recovered quickly, grabbing her wrist and twisting it painfully. The pan clattered to the floor as she gasped in pain, but she used his moment of distraction to drive her knee up into his gut.

He cursed, doubling over, and she spun behind him, slamming his head into the edge of the counter with all her strength.

Lando collapsed to the ground, dazed but not out. She stood over him, breathing hard, her hands shaking. She couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

Grabbing her apron from the floor, she wiped the blood from her lip and then shoved open the door, her mind racing. She had to get to Oscar before they both ended up dead.

She burst out of the kitchen door, the bright sunlight momentarily blinding her as she sprinted down the narrow path toward the pier. The salty breeze whipped through her hair, but the peacefulness of the day only sharpened the terror clawing at her chest. Her lungs burned, but she didn’t slow down.

"Oscar!" she screamed, her voice carrying over the gentle sound of the waves crashing against the pier. She could see him now, down by the boats, hauling crates with the other workers. He turned at the sound of her voice, his brow furrowing in confusion when he saw her running toward him.

The moment their eyes met, the panic in her face must have said it all. His expression shifted, his body tensing as he dropped the crate mid-lift.

Without a word, he pushed past the others, sprinting to meet her.

“Lando,” she panted as he reached her, “Zak. They’re here.”

Oscar’s face paled, his jaw clenching tight as he muttered a quick, “Fuck.”

There was no time for questions, no time to think. His hand found hers, squeezing it tightly for just a second before they both turned, running back up the pier, away from the watching eyes of the tourists and locals. Behind them, the distant sound of seagulls and lapping waves seemed to fade, replaced by the pounding of their footsteps as they raced through the narrow streets.

They sprinted through the winding streets, the cottage coming into view, small and peaceful under the shade of the olive trees. But peace was an illusion now, shattered by the presence of the ghosts from their past.

Oscar’s grip on her hand tightened as they raced up the steps to the front door. He pushed it open with a sense of urgency, the weight of danger hanging thick in the air. They stepped inside, breathing hard, and froze.

But someone was already there.

Sitting casually at the kitchen table, as if he’d been waiting for them the whole time, was her old manager. Toto. His sharp eyes gleamed with that familiar coldness, and a slow, knowing smile curled on his lips.

“You never struck me as the type to go rogue,” he said, his voice calm, almost amused.

Her blood ran cold. Oscar’s body tensed beside her, every muscle coiled, ready for action. She instinctively shifted her weight, preparing to move—but Toto raised a hand.

“Don’t try anything,” he warned, his gaze locking on hers. “Remember who trained you.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. He was right. She had spent years under his guidance, learning the tricks, the strategies, the ways to take someone down before they even saw you coming. But now, that knowledge was turned against her.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, but that was all it took.

Before she could react, she felt the sudden pressure of an arm wrapping around her throat from behind. Her instincts kicked in, but it was too late—one of her old teammates, Lewis or maybe George had her in a tight headlock, his grip ironclad.

Beside her, Oscar struggled, too, another agent pinning him from behind. She twisted, trying to fight back, but the scent of chloroform hit her nose, sharp and suffocating. Her vision blurred as she gasped for breath, her mind screaming to break free.

“Shh,” Toto said, standing slowly from the table, his voice soft, almost condescending. “I warned you.”

The last thing she saw before darkness closed in was Oscar’s eyes, wide with fury and fear, as the world slipped away.

When she woke, the first thing she felt was the cold. The floor beneath her was hard, unforgiving, and the air carried a damp chill that made her skin prickle. Her eyelids were heavy, her mind groggy, and for a moment she couldn’t remember where she was or how she’d gotten there.

Then it hit her.

The chloroform. The ambush. Toto.

She gasped, blinking against the darkness, her breath shaky as she struggled to sit up. Her head throbbed, her body sluggish, but she forced herself to move. The room around her was dim, lit only by the faintest light coming from a single bulb swinging from the ceiling. The walls were bare, metallic, industrial—no windows, no clear way out.

“Oscar?” she rasped, her voice hoarse.

There was a groan from her left. She turned, heart pounding, to see him stirring on the floor, just as groggy as she was. His eyes fluttered open, dazed and unfocused, but when they met hers, the same fear and confusion she felt reflected in his gaze.

“Where…?” Oscar muttered, struggling to sit up.

She crawled over to him, her hands trembling as she reached out, her fingers brushing against his cheek in the dark. He leaned into her touch, relief washing over both of them in that brief moment. They were alive. For now.

But this wasn’t over.

“We need to get out of here,” she whispered, her voice low but urgent, her eyes scanning the dark room for any sign of an exit.

Before Oscar could respond, a crackling sound echoed through the room—a voice over an intercom, distorted but chillingly familiar.

“Don’t try it.”

Her heart lurched, recognizing that voice immediately.

“Good morning, love birds,” Toto’ voice continued, calm and almost cheerful. “You should be glad I got to you before Zak did. He would’ve killed you both, without hesitation.”

She froze, her heart pounding in her chest. Toto. The man who had trained her, the one who had made her into the operative she was. There had been a time when she’d trusted him with her life. Now, his voice made her blood run cold.

Oscar’s eyes snapped up, his hand moving to grip hers tightly. They were both wide awake now, adrenaline cutting through the haze of the drugs.

“I imagine you’re confused,” Toto went on, the sound of his voice bouncing off the cold, metal walls. “I would be, too. But don’t worry. All will be explained in time.”

She clenched her jaw, trying to steady her breathing, but anger simmered beneath her fear. Toto had always been a master manipulator, calm and collected even in the worst situations. He was doing it again now, playing with them, using his control over the situation to twist the knife deeper.

She exchanged a glance with Oscar. They needed to find a way out, fast, before Toto revealed whatever game he was playing.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Toto added, as if he’d forgotten. “There’s no use trying to escape. You’re not going anywhere.”

The intercom crackled, then fell silent, leaving them in the oppressive quiet of the dark room once more.

The room seemed to close in around them after Toto' voice faded. Every creak of the walls, every subtle hum of electricity, felt like a reminder that they were being watched. Oscar, now fully alert, squeezed her hand before shakily rising to his feet, wincing at the stiffness in his body.

“We have to move,” he whispered, his eyes darting around the dark room. “See if there’s a way out.”

She nodded, standing beside him as they quickly scanned the perimeter. The room was small, about the size of a storage unit, with no visible doors except the one they must have been brought in through. The walls were cold and metallic, and every surface was bare. No windows. No obvious cameras—but they knew Toto was watching.

Oscar moved to the door, running his hands along the edges, searching for weaknesses. She knelt beside him, checking the lower corner for any seams, anything they could pry open. Her heart pounded in her chest, knowing that Toto wouldn’t make this easy. He’d trained them to escape any trap, and now he’d set the perfect one.

After a few moments, Oscar cursed under his breath. “It’s reinforced,” he muttered, his voice low and tense. “We’re locked in.”

She bit her lip, fighting the rising sense of hopelessness that threatened to overtake her. Of course they were. This wasn’t just some warehouse—they were in a controlled environment. Toto had planned this.

“We can’t just sit here,” she whispered. “There has to be something he overlooked.”

Oscar turned to her, his eyes fierce despite the tension in his face. “We have to play along. For now. Buy time, make him think we’re falling in line, but the second we get an opening—”

The intercom crackled again, interrupting him. They both froze, staring up at the small speaker nestled in the ceiling’s corner.

“I see you’ve already started looking for a way out,” Toto’ voice echoed through the room, laced with amusement. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from my star pupil. But I’ll save you the trouble—there’s no escape from here.”

She gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to scream back at him. Oscar’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. Toto was playing with them, and they both knew it.

“You have questions, I’m sure,” Toto continued, his tone turning conversational, like he wasn’t holding them hostage. “Why now? Why like this? Well, the truth is… Zak’s become reckless. You’ve both become liabilities. I intervened to protect you, believe it or not.”

She exchanged a glance with Oscar, a flicker of confusion and anger passing between them. Toto had always been calculated, but this sounded personal. She didn’t know whether to believe him or to take this as part of some larger game.

Toto paused, as if giving them time to absorb his words. “You might not understand yet, but I saved your lives today. There’s a bigger plan at play here. One that you—especially you, schatz—can still be a part of. If you cooperate.”

Her stomach twisted. Toto had never let go of control, never failed to pull strings behind the scenes. Even now, after everything, he was trying to manipulate her. And worst of all, part of her knew he might be telling the truth—that Zak would’ve killed them without a second thought. But trusting Toto meant walking right into whatever trap he was laying for them.

Oscar shook his head, his voice low but firm. “We can’t trust him.”

“I know,” she whispered back, her eyes locked on the intercom. “But we need to figure out what he wants.”

The room fell silent again, but the weight of Toto’ presence lingered like a shadow over them. She scanned the space again, her mind racing, trying to think of something—anything—they could use to their advantage. There had to be a weak spot somewhere.

“We wait,” Oscar murmured, his voice tense. “Act like we’re playing along until we find a way out.”

She nodded, though the knot in her stomach only tightened. How long could they pretend? And how much of the truth was Toto actually telling them?

For now, all they had was time. And they both knew, in the world of espionage, time was rarely on their side.

The door opened with a loud clang, jarring them both from their tense silence. Two large guards stepped into the room, their faces unreadable, and gestured for Oscar and her to stand. They exchanged a quick glance, knowing that resistance would only make things worse for now. The guards led them down a long, dimly lit hallway, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the cold concrete walls.

At the end of the hall, a steel door slid open, revealing an interrogation room. The space was stark, lit by a single bulb hanging above a metal table with three chairs. In one of them sat Toto, waiting.

He didn’t look up as they were shoved inside and seated across from him, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. The guards exited without a word, the door clanging shut behind them. The sound of the lock clicking into place seemed to vibrate through the room, sealing them in.

For a long moment, the silence stretched between them. Toto watched them, his sharp gaze flicking between Oscar and her, studying them with the cold, calculated look of a man who knew exactly how to dismantle their defences.

“I’ll make this simple,” Toto finally said, his voice measured. “I have questions, and you’re going to answer them.”

She stared back at him, her pulse quickening, but forced her face to remain blank. The tension in the room was palpable, thickening with every passing second. Oscar, sitting beside her, was equally silent, his jaw clenched tight. They had both been trained for this—how to hold out, how to deflect. They weren’t about to give Toto anything, especially not after he’d taken them captive.

Toto raised an eyebrow at their silence, clearly unimpressed. “We can do this the hard way, if you’d prefer.”

Still, neither of them spoke.

His gaze settled on her, a flicker of frustration passing over his features. “What happened after the club?”

She clenched her fists beneath the table, her body tense. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. Whatever he was fishing for, they wouldn’t give it to him—not without answers of their own.

Oscar leaned forward, his voice low and steady. “We’re not saying anything until you start talking, Toto. Why are we here? Why the hell are you playing this game?”

Toto leaned back in his chair, a small, amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You really think you’re in a position to make demands?”

She exchanged a quick glance with Oscar before narrowing her eyes at Toto. “You kidnapped us, drugged us, and now you’re sitting here asking questions like we’re supposed to trust you? We’re not giving you a damn thing.”

For a moment, Toto simply watched her, his smile fading. His expression grew colder, more dangerous. He tapped his fingers on the table once more before leaning forward, resting his elbows on the surface.

“You’re not grasping the situation, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dropping into a more serious tone. “You see, Zak wants both of you dead. Especially you.”

Her breath caught in her throat at the weight of his words. Oscar stiffened beside her, but she held her ground, her eyes locked on Toto. She had expected as much—knew how dangerous Zak was—but hearing it said out loud made it all the more real.

Toto’ gaze hardened as he continued. “He wants you gone because you seduced his best agent.”

Her stomach twisted at the accusation, but she didn’t flinch. This wasn’t just about their failed missions—this was personal for Zak. She had compromised Oscar, the agent he prized above all others, and now they were both paying the price.

“That’s why you’re here,” Toto went on, his voice uncomfortably calm. “He’s sent a kill order for both of you. I intervened, yes, but Zak’s patience is wearing thin. He’s not going to stop until you're both buried.”

Her mind raced, but she kept her expression neutral. She could feel Oscar’s tension beside her, his anger barely contained, but she knew they had to stay focused. This was a power play, and Toto had all the cards—for now.

Toto leaned closer, his eyes piercing into hers. “I can protect you from him. But you need to give me something in return. I need to know what you were doing after the club. Where you went. What you know.”

Oscar scoffed, finally breaking his silence. “So that’s it? You ‘save’ us, and now you’re holding us hostage? You’re no better than Zak.”

Toto’ lips curled into a cold smile. “I’m a lot better than Zak. Because unlike him, I don’t want you dead. But I need your cooperation.”

The room fell into silence again, heavy with unspoken tension. She knew they were trapped. Whatever deal Toto was offering, it was built on shifting sand. They couldn’t trust him, but Zak’s wrath was even more certain. They had been running for months, and now, they were backed into a corner.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she weighed their options. Toto was playing a game of survival, and right now, they were pawns.

“We need to be careful,” she whispered to Oscar, barely loud enough for Toto to hear.

She met Toto’ gaze again, her voice steady as she spoke. “You want to know what happened after the club? Fine. But first, we need guarantees. We want out of this. Away from Zak. Away from all of it.”

Toto’ eyes gleamed with interest. “I can make that happen. But only if you cooperate.”

Oscar looked at her, doubt flickering in his eyes, but she gave him a small nod. They had no choice for now. They would play along. But in the back of her mind, she was already planning—already thinking of a way to turn the tables.

Toto’ smile widened, a predatory glint in his eyes. “You’re going to help me with one last mission. Complete it, and I’ll give you what you want: a clean slate. No Zak. No more running.”

Oscar tensed beside her, his jaw clenched, but she forced herself to keep her expression neutral. They had no choice but to agree—for now.

“Fine,” she said, her voice cold. “What’s the mission?”

Toto leaned back in his chair, looking far too satisfied. “You’ll be retrieving something important. A prototype from Zak’s latest black ops project. It’s highly classified, heavily guarded. I need operatives who can get in and out without a trace.”

She didn’t believe for a second that Toto was telling them the full story, but they couldn’t refuse. Not with Zak’s kill order hanging over their heads.

“And if we do this,” Oscar said, his voice tight, “you let us go?”

Toto nodded. “You have my word.”

She met Oscar’s eyes, seeing the same doubt reflected back at her, but they were out of options. For now, they would play along. But she was already planning—already searching for any way to turn this situation to their advantage.

It was less than a day before they were sent.

The mission took them to a heavily guarded compound on the outskirts of a nondescript industrial city. They moved through the shadows like they had so many times before, the years of training and fieldwork kicking in instinctively. But this time, the stakes felt different—heavier.

The compound was crawling with guards, just as Toto had promised. As they worked their way inside, disabling security and avoiding detection, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Toto had been too smug, too confident. There was something he wasn’t telling them.

And then they reached the lab.

The prototype they were sent to retrieve sat in a reinforced glass case at the centre of the room. It looked unassuming—a small, sleek device about the size of a palm. But she knew better than to trust appearances. This was dangerous, cutting-edge tech, something that Zak had been developing in secret.

“We got it,” Oscar murmured, reaching for the case.

Before she could respond, the lights flickered. Her heart leaped into her throat as the security system whirred to life, alarms blaring. The doors slammed shut, locking them inside.

“What the hell?” Oscar hissed, spinning around to scan the room.

And then, through the dim light, she saw him.

Lando.

He stepped out of the shadows, a smirk playing on his lips, his sniper rifle slung casually over his shoulder. Her blood ran cold. This wasn’t just a retrieval mission—this was a trap.

“Lando,” she growled, her body tensing, ready for a fight. “If you’re here to kill me, you better get in line.”

But Lando didn’t move toward her. Instead, his eyes flicked to Oscar, and something unsettling passed over his face—a look of cold determination.

“No,” Lando said softly, “I’m not here to kill you. At least, not yet.”

In one swift motion, he pulled a small syringe from his jacket pocket and lunged toward Oscar. She reacted instinctively, moving to block him, but Lando was faster. He sidestepped her, grabbing Oscar by the arm and plunging the needle into his neck.

“Oscar!” she screamed, but it was too late.

Oscar staggered back, his hand flying to his neck, eyes wide with shock. His body seized for a moment, his face contorting in pain. And then, just as suddenly, he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

“What did you do to him?” she yelled, rushing to Oscar’s side. She shook him, her heart racing, but he didn’t respond. His breathing was shallow, his face pale.

Lando stood over them, his expression unreadable. “It’s not what you think. He’s not dead.”

“Then what the hell did you inject him with?” she demanded, her voice shaking with anger and fear.

Lando’s eyes darkened. “Something Zak’s been working on for a while. It’s a neural reboot. Wipes out memories, reprograms the mind for control.”

Her blood ran cold. “You turned him into a weapon.”

“Not me,” Lando corrected, his voice calm. “Zak. I’m just the messenger.”

She knelt beside Oscar, her mind racing. The man she loved—the man who had fought so hard to break free from this world—was now being dragged back in, turned into a puppet by Zak.

“How do I undo it?” she demanded, her voice shaking with fury. “How do I get him back?”

Lando’s smirk faded, and for the first time, she saw a flicker of something almost like regret in his eyes. “You can’t.”

She stood up, fists clenched, rage boiling over inside her. “I swear to God, if you don’t—”

Before she could finish, the doors to the lab burst open, armed guards flooding the room. Lando stepped back, disappearing into the chaos, leaving her standing there, helpless as they swarmed around her and Oscar’s unconscious form.

part two...

[channiedotcom]

late night gaming

i.n x gn!reader – fluff ; gamer!jeongin ; college au 

word count – 1.1k

a/n – i’ve been hoping to write something like this ever since i found out that i.n plays overwatch… it’s one of my favorite games and i like to imagine how fun it would be to get to game with him (and the other members of skz of course) also lmk if y’all would be interested in a pt 2! 

Late into the night, bluish-purple light seeps under the doorway of your bedroom. Every now and then, flashes of varying colors find their way into the mix. Your fingers move swiftly over your keyboard and mouse as your character turns in-game, taking shots at the enemy team. The payload is so close to creeping into the final point when–

Your character falls to the ground. You’ve been eliminated by fnncfx on Widowmaker. You hit your desk lightly with your fist, frustrated. “How did they even hit me? I swear I was behind that wall in time,” you mutter, watching the kill feed. You sigh and continue, exiting the spawn and getting back into the fight. Less than a minute later, it happens again. The same fnncfx gets a headshot, taking you out once more, just as quickly as you rejoined the battle.

The more it happens, the more frustrated you feel. Hoping to end the infuriating cycle, you switch to Sombra. If they’re going to keep targeting you, it’s only fair you do the same! You track down the Widowmaker and swiftly eliminate them. Within seconds, a message pops up in match chat:

fnncfx: counterswap? kinda weird

You roll your eyes and choose to ignore it. The game goes on for another minute or two, and you help your team by eliminating the Widowmaker at least twice more. As the timer runs out, your team finally completes the objective, and the word “Victory!” plasters itself across the screen. Before the game ends, you notice a small string of messages in the match chat:

fnncfx: ggs, except sombra fnncfx: i know ur mad i kept killing you lol

In a fit of frustration, you click on their profile and press the “add friend” button. You don’t really need to, but you want to talk to them and explain yourself. Almost as soon as you do, they add you back. You invite them to your group, eager to express your frustration. They accept and join in.

“You know I had to switch characters so you would stop eliminating me, right? You didn’t have to be such a jerk about it,” you huff, leaning towards your monitor.

There’s a pause. You stare at your screen, face illuminated by the glow. Why aren’t they responding yet? Did something go wrong?

“...Is this y/n?” he finally says, breaking the silence. As he speaks, your heart drops into your stomach. You recognize that voice instantly. It’s Jeongin– the cute guy from your math class. What is he doing playing this game? How did you end up in the same lobby? Your mind races. You’ve admired Jeongin from afar all semester- he’s the one you glance at in class, hoping he’ll notice you. And now here he is, in the same game, talking to you. Getting lost in your own thoughts, you almost forget to respond.

“I- uh- yes, hi! Oh my gosh, I didn’t- I didn’t think I’d run into you in this game! I’m so sorry, I hope I didn’t come across as rude or- or anything…” You stumble over your words, your voice trailing off as you put your face in your hands. You feel like you’ve seriously messed up.

He laughs.

He laughs.

You look up, your face warm. Despite the circumstances, you can’t help but think about how absolutely cute that sounded.

“I didn’t know you played this game, that’s actually pretty cool,” he says, his voice reminding you of liquid gold. It sounds warm and soothing, just like how you remember hearing it in class. 

“Yeah, I’ve had it for a while. I don’t play much stuff like this, but I guess this game is just different.” You shrug, leaning back into your chair a little bit. Knowing he isn’t upset as of this moment brings you a bit more peace. 

“Would you maybe… want to play a few games as a duo?”

Your eyes light up. He actually wants to play with you? He wasn’t going to ditch you immediately? 

You don’t even wait a moment before giving him a confident “That would be amazing!”

The two of you play through a few matches and do rather well, especially since he’s quite good at the game. You both find yourselves having a great time, giggling at the characters who seem to have no idea what is going on. You work together to take down enemy team after enemy team, barely losing any games.

After some time, you can hear him let out a sharp sigh. “I hate to do this to you, especially because I’m enjoying this so much, but I think I have to get going. My roommate Felix says he needs me to run it back in some scrimmages; I forgot I told him yesterday that I’d help out with that. I hope that’s alright…” He goes quiet, clearly disappointed to have some prior commitment. 

You frown, but aren’t too surprised. Of course someone as talented as him would be on some sort of gaming team. “For sure, that’s okay! I still had a great time; I would love to do this again, if you’d be down for that.”

“Yeah, totally! Why don’t you write down my number, and I’ll text you when I have time to do this again.” 

You can feel your face turning red at the idea of getting his number. This is someone you’ve admired from afar all semester, and now he wants to talk to you more. You feel like you’re in the clouds right now, your head spinning. 

He tells you the digits of his phone number and you swiftly enter them into your phone, then send him a text so he knows yours as well. 

“Okay, well you have a goodnight, y/n! It was great talking to you.” You can hear him smiling on the other side of his screen, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s blushing too. After he leaves the group, you log off out of the game and turn off your computer. You stand up from your chair and fall back onto your bed, wrapping yourself in the sheets. Giddy laughter escapes as you kick your feet in excitement. The thought that the most attractive boy in your class just gave you his number swirls in your mind, like a dream you never want to end. It still feels so surreal that he seems to at least tolerate- if not actually like- someone like you. As you hold your phone close to your chest, you slowly drift away into a deep sleep, dreaming of what could come of this newfound friendship, or maybe something more…

[theemporium]

Love your stories btw ♥️, may I request 🐈‍⬛ with alpha leader Max V. x sunshine! human reader mate ( moreover how they met ). She’s walking alone in the woods where she runs into Maxie in his wolf form, she gets a bit afraid since he looks intimidating but starts to pet him and coo at him while Max let’s her because he immediately knew that she is his mate ( he’s enamored yet amuse at how cute she is). All of the sudden, another wolf from his pack comes out of nowhere trying to “protect” Max since you’re human causing them to push you away resulting in you bleeding and being hurt. Max sees that and goes crazy

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

It had been a last minute decision to take a hike in the woods.

Between the stress of moving and the fact more boxes kept being left at your doorstep, you were seconds away from losing your mind and immediately needed a break. But you didn’t like the idea of stopping by a nearby restaurant by yourself like some lone wolf. Normally, you wouldn’t care but the idea of judgemental eyes following your every move wasn’t exactly your idea of relaxation. 

And with a massive garden that led out into acres of woodland, it seemed like the perfect choice to take a small hike and get to know the area around you. 

You had been careful to keep note of which path you were taking as you set out, a backpack with essentials and an extra layer in case it got chillier as the sun went down. It was serene, something about being surrounded by nature and being disconnected from city life was an escape you didn’t even realise you needed as you padded through the woods. 

However, an hour into your hike, the last thing you expected to see was any wildlife bigger than the odd bunny running past your legs. Maybe a fox if you were pushing it. 

But certainly not a wolf.

You had been humming away to yourself, basking in the calm and peaceful air around you when you heard a twig snap. Your head snapped up, a soft smile on your face as you expected to see another little bunny. However, your smile quickly fell and you stopped short in your path the moment you saw the large wolf on the other side of the clearing. 

He was big. Far bigger than any dog you had ever seen, though that was much was a given. His fur was a mix between light brown and blonde, though you couldn’t exactly be sure. But his eyes—they were different. They were a striking blue, and you almost felt like they could look right into your soul. You felt stupid for even thinking that, though it didn’t stop you from feeling as much.

You held your hands out hesitantly, the fear striking through your body when you realised the way his eyes were locked on you. You swallowed back the ball at the back of your throat, taking a small hesitant step back. 

Yet, the wolf just tilted his head at you like he was confused. 

You took another step back, and only then did it seem to pick up on the fact you were trying to leave. The second you saw it move towards you, you let out a scream on instinct and raised your arms up to cover yourself.

You waited. You waited to feel the wolf’s claws digging into your skin or his teeth sinking into your flesh. You waited to feel the wrath of a known predator, but instead you felt his snout nosing your legs before he slumped down at your feet.

You stared down at the beast with wide eyes, unsure if you were even living the moment or if it was one of your fever dreams you’d wake up on the couch after in a complete daze. But the wolf let out a small whimper and you found yourself almost smiling down at him.

“Oh,” you murmured as you hesitantly reached out to stroke his fur—almost surprised by how soft it was—only to fully grin when he let out a noise of contentment. “You’re just a friendly big guy, huh?” 

The wolf only rolled onto his back, paws in the air and his tail wagging as you softly rubbed his belly, laughing a little at the way he preened at the touch.

“What a good boy,” you cooed softly as you kneeled down on the floor, the shrubbery beneath you cushioning you as you continued to pet the wolf. “I never knew wolves could be so friendly.”

However, lost in your awe and surprise of the friendly wolf, you had failed to notice a second one slowly approaching you from behind. 

You didn’t feel the pain until a few seconds later, more focused on the fact you were fucking winded from a large wolf tackling you from behind. You lifted yourself off the ground, sitting up as you choked on your own breaths. And when the pain hit you, you raised your hand to your forehead, only to quickly wince when you felt the tender wound and the stickiness of your own blood. 

But your own injuries seemed to be the last thing on your mind when you noticed the friendly wolf standing in front of you, growling and flashing his sharp teeth at the second wolf (who now, in comparison, looked smaller than him). 

You shuffled back, your head spinning as you tried to process the sight in front of you. And then, the most unexpected thing happened. 

Where the friendly wolf stood moments ago, now stood a man. A very naked man. A very pissed off, naked man. 

“Go!” He growled, despite the fact he was a human now and no longer an animal. “Get the fuck out of here before I decide to rip your throat out! Go while you still have a fucking chance of saving your life!” 

The second wolf whined and whimpered, bowing his head in submission. And in a blink of an eye, he was gone, running through the woods he appeared from moments ago. 

You must’ve let out a noise because suddenly the man was turning to face you, uncaring of his current lack of clothes or the fact he was a fucking animal moments ago. His focus was completely on you, with those same blue eyes staring at you with a mix of worry and concern.

He kneeled before you and, if you were sane and normal, you would have scampered onto your feet and ran away by now. But for some reason that was beyond your own understanding, you didn’t feel the need to run away from this man. Not yet, at least. 

His hand reached out to softly push your hair away from your face, only for his lips to turn downwards at the sight of the wound on your forehead. His fingertips trailed across your cheek and down your jaw before he murmured quietly to himself, “my mate.” 

And yet, there was only one thing you seemed to blurt out in response. 

“What the fuck are you?”

.

[nvrswrld]

Fell in Love With a Girl — Cooper Day

"Fell in love with a girl / I fell in love once and almost completely / She's in love with the world / But sometimes these feelings can be so misleading"

— in which Cooper comes clean to you about his troubles with Emma.

cooper day x gn!reader

tags: swearing, second person pov, fluff, not proofread, kinda shitty in my opinion but i tried my best

"Cooper, what's taking so long?" You inquired, feeling more and more frustrated with the boy. He was supposed to be helping you with your missing assignments, but he got sidetracked by a notification from his laptop. He was so distracted that he spent about three minutes staring at the screen, literally frozen in place. It was annoying, and the worst thing was that it was the third time he had been distracted by it, which meant that your work was taking even longer to complete.

The only reason why you even had missing assignments was because you got sick the previous week.

Strep throat. Possibly one of the worst and best illnesses a person can get. You felt like shit most of the time, but the upside was that you wouldn't have to go to school until it cleared. You just happened to catch it from a guy in your math class; how that happened was a damn mystery. You kept your distance and moved as far away from him as possible every time he so little as parted his lips to speak, but you still caught it. As a result, you took a week off from school, which didn't seem too bad at first, but that was until Cooper gave you an update on everything that went down during the week you spent at home whining about your sore throat and chugging shitty medicine. And it was one hell of an update, for sure.

He soon shifted his focus away from the screen and quickly closed it. He covered his face and moaned as he stood up from his desk and returned to his bed to sit next to you again. "Sorry, sorry. What were we talking about?"

You close your workbook, using your pencil to bookmark the page, and place it beside you. "Numbers and shit. Who was that?"

"Who was who?" You should have known he would respond to your question with one of his own. He always did this, and it was infuriating. In his defense, though, he didn't have to tell you who he was talking to if he didn't want to, therefore he was justified. Irritating as fuck, but justified.

"Don't play dumb," you advised, rolling your eyes at his feigned confusion. "Who were you emailing just now?" Cooper shrugged and glanced around the room. "Why does it matter?"

"It must matter since you keep running back to your laptop every two minutes."

"Well, it's closed now, so you don't have to worry about it. Lucky you." Cooper was not an open person, and you knew it. Everyone knew it. That being said, his dismissive behavior wasn't unusual. He always bottled up his emotions since he didn't know how to express them without assuming he sounded stupid. Unfortunately for him, you were nosy and constantly pestered him when he didn't tell you something, so he usually caved.

"Are you hiding something from me?"

He gave you a puzzled, defensive expression. "What makes you think I'm hiding something from you?"

"You're not denying it." Your logic garnered you a sneer from him, but he chose to simply change the subject to avoid further conflict.

"The more you argue with me over this, the more time you're wasting." He wasn't necessarily wrong about that, either. Instead of pressuring him to talk about it, you picked up your workbook and got back to work. Around twenty minutes later, you left to go to the bathroom, but when you finished and headed back to Cooper's room, he was sitting at his desk. Again. Instead of announcing your presence, you silently closed his bedroom door and crept up behind him, skimming through his laptop screen. He was reading an email from a girl who said she "missed him" and had been "thinking about him all day". It was a tough read, but it offered a great opportunity to make fun of him.

"Who's Emma?" You finally spoke up with a sly grin. Cooper jumped and shut his laptop in less than a second. He gave you an annoyed glare before sweeping his curls out of his face and looking away. He stood up from his chair and attempted to distance himself from you out of embarrassment.

"A friend," he mumbled.

"That didn't sound like a friend," you retorted.

"Why are you so worried about it?" Instead of answering his question, you mocked him.

You grabbed his arm and began swinging it, annoying him even more. Truth be told, you weren't particularly pleased with what you had found, but you were trying your best to conceal your displeasure via exaggerated excitement techniques. You had a mini-crush on him for a while (at least that's what you called it to persuade yourself that you didn't want him and were just being irrational for a year straight), and it was relatively upsetting to learn that he was talking to some girl he never mentioned to you. "Aw, Cooper has a girlfriend!"

He let you swing his arm, although he didn't seem thrilled about it. "She's not my girlfriend." You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Okay, sure," you replied, not believing him in the slightest. "And I'm not failing algebra."

"No, seriously," he affirmed. "She's not. We just started talking, like, a week ago."

"And how did that happen?"

It took him a while to gather enough courage to answer that question. "...she called me sexy."

"...seriously? Just- just straight up?" Cooper nodded. You cringed a bit. "Is she in any of your classes?" You asked. Little did you know, you wouldn't be prepared for his response. "...she's a junior."

"She's a what?!"

"Hear me out—"

"No!" That was odd. Wasn't it odd? How often did a freshman and a junior get together? Not very. You couldn't even begin to articulate your concern. Where do you even start? There was a lot to unpack in those three words. "Do you not see the issue with that?"

He shrugged awkwardly. "Yeah, but she's hot, and I'm me. M'not really a chick magnet, so I kinda have to take what I can get."

"Take what you can get?" You repeated in astonishment. You had more to say, but he interrupted you before you had time to finish. "Plus, we already made out a lot, so I kinda dug myself into a hole." As if it couldn't get any worse...

Your eyes widened. The situation was almost unfathomable, and you could feel yourself about to explode out of anger. "Have you lost your mind?"

"I'm sixteen; what's the issue?" He asked in defense. You would've laughed at that lie if you weren't pissed off.

"You're fifteen, Cooper. Stop telling people that." For some unexplained reason, he kept lying about being a year older than he was. He'd been doing it since he was twelve, and it was actually pretty cute. And stupid.

"Well, I'm almost sixteen."

"Your birthday was two months ago."

"Still. That's basically a young adult."

"Not even!" He shook his head and sighed. "Why are we even talking about this?"

"I don't know," you replied. "Why are you dating a junior?" Cooper flung his head back, annoyed, before sitting on the edge of his bed. "We aren't dating, okay? And even if she was a freshman, I still wouldn't date her." That claim perplexed you. You stood in front of him, looking down at him with curiosity. "Why not?" You questioned.

He placed his elbow on his knee and let his chin rest in the palm of his hands. "Because she's not into me."

"But you just said she called you—"

"I know," he interjected. "You don't get it, though. She thinks I'm an idiot." He looked up at you for a minute, only to be met with your blank stare. "She's just using me to write shit for her."

"So, you don't like her; you just like being used?" You asked. He sneered at your cluelessness.

"I don't like being used. I just like the attention."

You sat down beside him, hands in your lap. You mumbled a soft "damn" and peered at the floor alongside him. "That fuckin' sucks."

"You don't say?" He replied sarcastically, leading you to nudge his shoulder. He sighed hopelessly and continued his rant. "I don't think I'm ever getting in a relationship at this point."

"Don't say that," you pleaded. "You never know."

"I do know, though," he argued. "I'm weird. I don't fit anyone's standards. Not that I even care for relationships, but—"

"You fit mine."

Your honesty seemed to catch him off guard for a moment. He paused for a few seconds before proceeding with the conversation. "That's not what I meant, y/n. You're just a friend."

"That's not what I meant, either." He gazed at you, his eyes conveying his uncertainty. "I didn't mean it in a friendly way."

Cooper stared at you, completely stumped. You grumbled and rolled your eyes before clarifying yourself for him. For someone so smart, he could be so naive. "You idiot—I like you. That's what I meant."

Despite your clear confession, you were anything but calm. You wanted to bash your head through his window because you had just made the entire conversation awkward. Awkward because he was staring at you, visibly uncomfortable. Or maybe he was just stunned. You had hoped he was just stunned. Regardless, the room was quiet, which was enough to drive you insane on the inside.

"...dude, why?" He eventually asked.

"Why what?"

"Why me?"

"Why not?" You shrugged with sass but kept your attention away from him. You would prefer to not see your best friend become uncomfortable in your presence. Being in his presence at that moment was enough to make you want to shoot yourself in the head. "You really do have shitty taste in guys," he taunted, hoping to lighten the mood for you. You let out a bitter scoff. "But on a serious note, I didn't think you thought of me like that..."

"You learn something new every day." He cracked a brief chuckle before going back to his serious demeanor. You, however, were not laughing. "I'd rather you over Emma, y'know."

"Is that really the compliment you think it is?" You asked softly.

"Depends on how you take it," he replied. "But I did like her at first, just so you know. Before I even knew what she was up to. So do you know what that means?" It meant that even if he liked Emma, he still would have preferred you. Suddenly, you didn't want a bullet in your skull anymore. "Oh," you muttered while trying your best to not smile too hard. "Cool, cool. That's, like, rad."

"That's it?" He complained. "Just 'rad'?"

"Obviously not," you denied. "I just don't know how to react appropriately."

"How would you react if you were alone?" He asked, to which you immediately responded.

"I'd scream."

He raised his eyebrows and grinned. "I guess that's fair. But do you know what I want to do?" You tilted your head to the side, urging him to continue. But he said nothing. Without wasting another second, he leaned into your proximity and connected your lips, as if he was testing the waters before diving in fully. The kiss was neither short nor too long. You eventually reciprocated, allowing your hands to drift to his face and grasp onto him. You didn't want him to pull away, but he did eventually. He took a breath and smiled nervously while backing away from you. Meanwhile, you were still trying to process his actions.

"…why'd you pull away?" You spoke up, giving him a fake look of disapproval. "I wasn't supposed to?"

"Did I say you could?" Cooper shook his head. "Exactly. So get back over here and kiss me before I throw a fit."

"As you wish."

written by @nvrswrld

[fuckmymunson]

Could you do virgin!reader x james potter where he shows her how to touch herself? If you're comfortable ofc!

💌: Yeah but only because I feel guilty for not posting /j.

💌; 18+!, smut, minors DNI. Fingering, tit sucking 🫶🏻.

"Spread your legs wider… yeah that's it" James says with a soft smile. "Good girl" He adds pushing his glasses over his nose.

Your fingers slid up and down your slick pussy, feeling absolutely mortified by being so exposed. This was a bad idea from the beginning, but, there was something about being watched and instructed by James that was thrilling.

And lowkey… hot.

"Now circle your clit with your index finger" James commands, his smile widening when you comply almost instantly. "See? Is that easy"

The way he talks is so sweet in contrast with the filthy way he looks at you. The pressure on your clit makes you release a shaky breath, as your eyes close. You don't hear him moving, and when you open them again James is standing next to you at the edge of the bed.

"Don't close your eyes" His tone his still sweet but firm. "Speed up"

And you do. Tight, fast circles on your clit work wonders. Your body shakes with pleasure, the good feeling crashing in small waves. Your chest rises with longing and that desirable climax is building on your lower stomach.

"Put one finger in" James says in a low, husky voice, leaning closer. He is now sitting at the edge. He presses a soft kiss on your forehead, smirking against your glowing skin.

Following instructions, it doesn't even hurt when you do so. The wet sensation of your tight pussy squeezing your finger it's rather foreign, since it's probably the second time you ever fingered yourself; Something James found baffling.

"Does it feel good?" He purrs in your ear, running his fingers over your neck down to your collarbone.

His index and thumb find your hardened nipple, pinching very slightly. You moan at the feeling, stopping the movements in your pussy for a second. "Don't stop, princess" He says. You resume your movements, sliding your single digit in and out your dripping cunt. "Good girl… now add another finger"

With a slight sting of panic, you nod subtly. Your middle finger joins the first one and this time it adds the tiniest bit of stretch. The discomfort quickly melts when James replaces his fingers on your nipple with his mouth. His tongue flicks the hard nub with practiced ease, enjoying the breathless gasp that escapes your plump lips.

"See? It feels good" He says against your breast, licking it a bit more. "We need to loosen you up a bit more darling, or else my cock won't fit your tight little pussy"

His bold words send another wave of wetness between your legs, as your wrist speeds up a little. "Curve your fingers upwards princess" James then instructs, licking your nipple in the process. His hand sneaks down in between your thighs and his thumb quickly finds your clit.

"Feel that baby?" He murmurs, rubbing lazy circles over your clit. "That's your G-spot"

Then it hits you, and your whole body curves upwards. This is a whole different sensation. You moan louder than before, and James has to bite back a laugh, purposely ignoring the uncomfortable hard on he has inside his trousers right now.

"Keep going, make yourself feel good princess" James says one last time before returning your mouth to your tits and speeding up his motions over your clit.

He sucks on your tits and nipples until they're harder than ever and almost swollen, James absolutely adores your tits, he could suck on them for hours.

Your fingers move and move and every single stroke over that spot James just showed you feels like touching heaven. The wet sounds of your pussy dripping down with desire are sinful and borderline obscene. You begin to moan a bit louder, as your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

James applies more pressure on your swollen bundle of nerves, sending you to another state of pleasure that you could only imagine in your dirtiest fantasies.

The orgasm crashes into your body and every nerve without warning. Crying his name in delight you shut your eyes, the force of your climax forcing your legs to snap close and shiver. Your fingers are now covered in your release, glistening under the dim lights of the room.

"See? Good girl" He praises you, kissing your lips lovingly. James grabs your hand from between your thighs and brings it up to his mouth, licking your fingers clean and humming at the taste of you.

"Are you ready for my cock?"

Sorry for any mistakes! English is not my first language. Thank you for reading!˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[naomihatake]

In search of freedom (Ch. 2)

2. The wheel of death

Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa. This chapter follows the events of the second episode.

Warnings for this chapter: canon typical violence, kidnapping

Word count: 3,1k

Theme song: “Haunted Isles” by Derek Fiechter (click on the link)

A/N: I almost didn't believe I wrote so much considering the process felt so slow and kind of annoying. Not the best chapter I've written so far, not something I'm necessarily proud of, but I wanted to follow OPLA's plot. I know 3k words isn't much, but I already prepared pieces of the next chapters that I'm genuinely excited to share with you. Half of this part is filled with action, meanwhile, the next chapter will be full of psychological analysis and a lot of thoughts + more interactions between the reader and Zoro.

The reader will be referred to as "Witch" from now on, because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

I'm open for comments and opinions <3

The view made her smile as she looked at the dark blue nuance of the sea, her eyes sparkling just like the moon that was hidden by the gray clouds at that time. Her heart beat so peacefully, in sync with the waves of the water, and with every inhale she could feel that sensation taking over her senses. Everytime she got on a ship, the feeling grew stronger and stronger and she doubted there was a limit.

Freedom had no limit and she wondered if that's what it felt like.

"We're not a crew," Zoro and Nami — the woman with orange hair — said in unison.

Luffy was dead set on calling four people a crew, despite the fact that it was a decision he kind of made on his own.

Zoro's tall figure disappeared inside the cabin, where he intended to nap. She was intrigued; it was the same man who made a fool of those marines back at the tavern. The witch was confused about the soft clinck sounds coming from him, until she realized it was just his three golden earrings hitting one another at each move.

Luffy's last crewmate smiled, endeared by the unfaltering enthusiasm their supposed captain was radiating. He was like a ball of energy since they got on Nami's ship and sailed away with help from Koby.

"So, you're a witch," Luffy excitedly turned towards her.

"You could call me that, I think," she shrugged.

"Do you do magic? Like, potions in a cauldron and spells with candles—"

"I think you know too many stereotypes," she let out a long sigh.

Nami was on her knees in front of the safe box, ear glued to the locker as she rolled it between her fingers.

"So you won't chop us into pieces and boil us?" She arched her eyebrow, unintentionally feeding Luffy's crazy ideas.

"You—!"

"No, I don't."

She rubbed at the bridge of her nose with her thumb and pointer finger.

"What about you two talking after I finish unlocking this? I need silence."

The witch sat down, resting her body against a barrel as she watched Nami's careful actions. Now that she thinks about it, she never saw someone so sure of themselves while opening up this kind of locker, which meant it wasn't the first time she did it either. She presented herself as a thief.

Luffy was agitated, roaming around and stretching, a big smile on his lips. He was holding back from babbling until he forgot he had to keep his mouth shut.

"I almost can't believe I already have a crew and we got our hands on the Grand Line map."

"Luffy," the witch whispered so she wouldn't disturb Nami. "You do know none of us promised to take part in this adventure, right?"

She was trying her best to be gentle about the topic, especially since he seemed so happy he couldn't hold back at all. Luffy had no filter anymore, saying whatever came to mind, but she supposed he's always like that.

"Maybe you'll change your mind," he beamed.

"I appreciate your help a lot, kid, and I'll try my best to help you if I get the chance until we get to the next destination, but I don't know about that," she shook her head.

"You said the same thing at the tavern: that it's dangerous."

"And I still didn't change my mind. It is dangerous."

"Can you be silent?" Nami accentuated her words in annoyance.

"Sorry," the witch muttered.

The orange haired woman glued her ear to the lock again, eyes narrowed and brows pulled together in concentration. One strand of hair fell over her blue eyes but she didn't mind it while she continued opening the locker up.

A small click vibrated shyly through the air and Nami snapped up.

"It's open!" she shouted.

From inside the box, Nami took a long cylinder and opened it. The witch moved behind her and looked at the map of the Grand Line, inspecting it with the eye of someone who wasn't an expert at all. She was focusing on the navigator's explanations so intensely, she didn't notice when the other two approached. Zoro's swords brushed by her leg, moving her entire attention to him.

The sound of fireworks filled the air.

"The marines? When did they find us?" Nami furrowed her eyebrows.

"What's with the red smoke?" the witch found herself asking right after she started seeing in nuances.

"It smells weird," Luffy muttered.

She found out it was true only after she inhaled it and her vision was getting blurry. Everything happened so fast: Nami falling first, then Zoro saying something she couldn't hear. Her body got soft and in less than a few seconds, she fell unconscious after she caught a glimpse of a pirate ship.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The witch rubbed her wrists together, but her attempt to escape from the rope digging into her skin was futile. She was sitting in an open chest, her knees pulled close to her chest; both her legs and wrists were tied and she was growing tired of it.

They were kidnapped by some pirate clowns and thrown into what he called the Green Room. Luffy was still in the main tent, and what was happening to him was a secret between the clowns and the dozens of people who had their legs chained like animals.

The Green Room was filled with strange things and old furniture and cushions. Golden bulbs shined and reflected into some square mirrors and another large one with skulls as ornaments. There was a chair in front of a desk, where cups were placed next to some photos. A creepy white mannequin stood right next to the chest she was sitting in, wearing an elegant purple scarf. Something that imitated a chandelier was hanging in the middle of the roof, made out of big flower cups of white thin material. Zoro's swords were left against one of the cushions, where her two identical guns were.

A barely audible groan left the swordsman's lips as he struggled against the rope that glued his wrists to a big wheel.

"They're too strong even for you," Nami commented in a shallow tone.

Both of her hands clutched at the metal bars of the wide bird cage she was stuck in.

"I need to get out of here and kill some clowns," he muttered, focused on escaping. "I've got out of worse."

"With that I have to agree," the witch sighed.

"I saw a town when I got out of the tent… what was left of it after Buggy destroyed it."

"You mean, when you tried to leave us for dead?" Zoro grimaced after pulling at the ropes again.

The witch was like a bystander, her eyes running from one to the other. They were seriously insane, ready to argue in a life-or-death situation.

"You were picking up a fight you couldn't win," Nami snapped her head towards the swordsman.

"I know your type: if there's nothing to gain, you're out."

"Says the one who runs after Berries—"

"Shut it, you two," the witch intervened, letting out a groan. "We can argue and throw venom at each other after we get out of here."

"If we get out of here," Nami retorted.

"We do because I have too much of an ego to play in a circus created by a maniac," the witch mumbled.

After a few moments of silence, no sounds coming from outside the room they were left in, Nami got a lock pin out of her boot.

"Didn't they take all of them?" Zoro asked.

"They only took three," she smirked for a brief moment.

The witch leaned her torso forward and, despite the painful tug of the rope, she tried to raise them to the belt of her pants. She snuck her fingers between the two pieces of clothing and bit at her bottom lip when her skin started stinging painfully.

Finally, she got a small pocket knife out and grinned.

"I thought you were a witch," the swordsman gazed at her.

"You'll see magic once I get out of here," she joked.

A loud scream ripped through the air and it made all of them snap their heads towards the door.

Was that Luffy?

The witch's blood froze in her veins.

"You better hurry," Zoro whispered.

The witch gulped and wielded the knife between her fingers until the sharp edge grazed the rope around her wrists. She moved the knife up and down, putting as much pressure as the position allowed her. Nami, on the other hand, continued rolling the lock pick into the padlock.

Now that the woman stared intently at the mannequin while cutting the rope — even if way too slowly —, the doll had a scary smile painted in black on its porcelain face. Why was it looking back at her?

Minutes of unsuccessful cutting ropes and rolling lock picks, after another groan coming out of Zoro's mouth, he spoke:

"Someone's coming."

"Keep them talking, I need more time," Nami turned her head.

"Same here."

"I don't talk, I hit things," he grunted.

"Then change your hobby," the witch huffed.

The witch's eyes widened and she leaned back against the chest, so her arms and pocket knife would be hidden. Her heart was beating painfully fast in between her ribs and it was almost ridiculous, how she was sweating and the clothes started getting uncomfortable.

A monocycle creaked under the man who just got inside the room. He passed right by her when he came in, which sent her into an inner crisis. Wearing dark colored clothes and an unbuttoned coat without sleeves, the man hopped off and let the object fall to the floor.

She had no clue why the pirate chose to get close to the swordsman, who looked at him dead in the eye.

"Remember me?" the pirate spoke.

"No. Must be some other homicidal, unicycle-riding clown."

The witch was reminded you pay for the audacity of speaking up to your enemy when you're locked up; Zoro got instantly hit by the pirate's fist into the stomach. However, he didn't give that clown any satisfaction, his lips glued.

She eyed Nami, who was turned with her back at the lock of her cage, trying to open it without even looking at it. Damn, it wasn't good.

The witch couldn't hear whatever the fuck that clown was muttering at Zoro's ear, her fingers moving the knife faster, a tight knot settling in her throat as adrenaline pumped through her.

Nami made eye contact with the swordsman and the pirate who called himself Cabaji turned towards her.

"I've never met a clown. I thought they're supposed to be funny. Do some acrobatics on your monocycle, maybe it can help the time pass."

The witch shouldn't have opened her mouth in the first place, but if Nami was caught, it could've ended badly. Maybe it was the fault of the adrenaline, but pissing off that idiot with three strands of mint green hair made her smirk victoriously.

People who get angry when you step on their ego have always been the funniest creatures alive.

Of course, the reaction she received wasn't a good one. The pirate took two knives from his belt and stepped closer. She refused to look away and nothing could erase that grin off her face.

"Still doesn't ring a bell," Zoro caught his attention again.

Bad move. One of Cabaji's knives cut through the air and sunk into the wood the swordsman was glued to. Any other sounds have immediately been silenced.

"You followed us day and night for weeks through the Goa kingdom, never relenting, like some kind of demon."

Oh, so that's who Roronoa Zoro really was; the witch dared to allow her curiosity to act like a sponge about the new information. Interesting. The swordsman was a demon and a bounty hunter. Amazing combo.

He was probably hated by every pirate on the sea.

The woman tried her best to focus on the pocket knife between her fingers, but she couldn't help the fear crawling up into her skin. They had to get out of there alive and, preferably, with their limbs attached to their body.

After a few heavy steps, Cabaji gripped at the edge of the wooden wheel and in less than two seconds, the swordsman was rotating like a toy. The pirate walked roughly two meters away and then continued tossing knives, each time managing to avoid Zoro's flesh.

Nami and the witch looked at each other for a brief moment and then continued with their previous work.

When the rope finally got cut, she looked at the maniac pirate who didn't stop with his play yet. She held back her reactions, instead choosing to look at the swordsman who was rotating in the air and it made her pale. Time passed by too slowly and she slowly let out a long sigh when the wheel stopped from moving.

"You really don't fear death, do you?" Cabaji huffed.

He wasn't satisfied by the lack of reaction he received from Zoro who looked like he's gone through that three times a day for years. How did he manage to keep such a poker face?

"No, I just don't fear you."

Good, make him corner you.

The pirate didn't think twice before he threw a knife that aimed right above the swordsman's wrist. Their enemy wasn't careful enough, since the rope could now be easily cut.

Cabaji walked towards Zoro — another mistake. Nami already opened her cage and she was silently getting out. The witch didn't hesitate when she stopped pretending like she still had her wrists tied together. Clutching at the knife between her fingers, she raised her hand and tossed the sharp object through the air, aiming at the man's back.

"Thinking you're the only one who can play with knives, clown?" she huffed.

Cabaji turned and it was Nami's opportunity to kick his stomach with her foot, which made him fall on his back, the knife digging further into his flesh, cutting through his ribs and lung.

Finally, the witch's anxiety lowered now that one of their men was down. Now, who knows how many more they had to defeat.

"I didn't take you for a criminal."

Nami took one of the knives stuck in the wheel and cut Zoro's rope and then came to her other crewmate, helping with the rope around her ankles.

"I was desperate and he was annoying," the witch shrugged while she rubbed at her aching wrists.

When she found the freedom of moving again, she got out of the chest and took all the knives she found, including the ones from the wheel.

"What's the plan?" Zoro asked as he arranged his swords back at his hip.

"I say we beat the shit out of every clown we see," Nami grinned.

The witch smiled after she put each knife at her belt, rolling another one between her fingers. With her guns sitting at each side of her hip and the bonus of adrenaline, it felt like nothing could stop her.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The sharp edge of the weapon broke the glass after she threw it right in the middle of Luffy's aquarium — or whatever that thing was supposed to be.

"Luffy!" she shouted his name.

The glass wall of his cage shattered and the water splashed around, the straw hat coughing, his face pale. He was on the floor, soaked to the bone. His straw hat was so close to him,yet so far away. Luffy vomited the cylinder with the map and despite the nausea he was experiencing, he crawled to his hat.

He put himself in danger this entire time and chose not to let go of the Grand Line map, but that object held much more importance to him. The witch froze for a mere moment, confused, but when she wanted to get closer and get the map away from Buggy, a pirate with a sword came sprinting towards her.

"Witch!" she heard a gruff voice.

She dodged it before her head could get cut off and sank a knife into his stomach, only to raise the agony after she hit the man in the same spot, blood gushing out of his wound and soaking his clothes.

With a swift motion, her fingers grabbed at one of her revolvers. She fired at Buggy who was a breath away from touching the map, but didn't pay enough attention to another attack towards her.

A sword's edge shone in the corner of her eye and no matter how fast she was, she couldn't dodge that. Her eyes widened and she waited for the pain to inflict into her body. The pirate froze in place and his sword slipped between his fingers. When he fell to his knees, from behind him there was Zoro who was using a three-sword style.

Definitely a demon; but in a good way.

The witch nodded at him. She didn't train properly in the past year and she lost some speed on the way. She hasn't been in such a situation for a long time.

With other two pirates attacking them from the sides, she protected his blind spot while he killed another enemy with a mere flick of his swords. Another loud shot rang through the air and another man fell down, the center of his heart pierced.

"Buggy needs to have a weakness," the witch said.

"And what is it?"

The answer was right before their eyes: Luffy managed to get back to his feet while they were busy. He used his ability to elongate his arm and grabbed at the leg who was moving in the air, only to throw it in a chest. Nami closed it and grinned mischievously.

That was it.

The witch rolled another knife between her fingers and analyzed the detached hand that was rotating around her. At the perfect time, she threw it in the middle of its palm with enough force to send it into another chest, Nami locking it.

They focused on getting each part of Buggy's body stuck in any suitable place, be it a chest, a barrel or under a bucket. For as long as they got rid of that maniac, everything was fine.

She let out a sigh when only the clown's head remained intact, now laughing pitifully. Zoro bent down and grabbed the head, locking it into a box and putting a rock on top of it.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

A/N: Thank you so much for the comments and the support <3

Tag list: @emelia07 @dimplewonie @tfamidoingwithmylife @murnsondock @the-skys-musical-echo @conspiracy-crows @hallow33nz @ramae17 @gaslysainz @bunntsu @katt58

[sanaxo-o]

We can’t be friends (Jake Sim)

Warnings/genre: ah well lovers to strangers, misunderstandings, angst, hurt comfort at the end ig? Not proofread so let me know if there should be any corrections. Plz let me know if more warnings or anything should be here.

Word count: 1,340

Sana: a enhypen post in a while??? This was originally written for TBZ Kevin and i thought I should post something for en- before going on a hiatus so here it is. Hope you guys enjoy it <3 also a huge thanks to @mosviqu for making the banner despite her busy schedule. You ate 😍🙏

Taglist: @cloverdaisies @mosviqu @bella-feed @kimsohn @a-dream-bookmark

🎞️🎞️🎞️🎞️🎞️🎞️🎞️🎞️🎞️🎞️🎞️🎞️🎞️🎞️🎞️🎞️

Date: March 30th 2024

Sitting in the corner of the room you stare at all the people mingling with each other, laughing and giggling as if everything is normal and going oh so well in their lives when in fact it’s crumbling apart. 

Taking a sip of the beer which was almost over you look around the room once again when your eyes meet his, staring at you from across the room. 

You could feel your heart beating again, the way it started beating loudly made you scared, not because you feared him but because you feared yourself. 

You swore to yourself that you had moved on from him. After everything you both went through, you thought it’s better if you stayed just as friends but you yourself knew that you both cannot be friends. 

Every passing second of the day made you loathe him more, not because he was your ex but because he just decided to give up on your relationship just like that when you decided it was the end. 

Keeping the can of bear on the nearest table you found you grabbed your coat and walked away from there. Not being able to sit there and act as if everything was alright when it in fact was not. You knew it was not, he knew it was not. 

Date: March 20th 2024 

Sitting on the bed you hold the necklace in your hand as you take in a deep breath. You hated arguing with him, in fact you hated when you would snap at each other simply because you both would bottle up your feelings. 

The countless misunderstandings you both went through meant nothing at this point when your whole relationship is tearing apart like this. 

“What’s the point?” You hear Jake mumble briefly as he sits up from his lying position and places his head in his hands. 

You could feel your heart breaking when you heard his voice for the first time ever since the argument you both had in the living. 

You muster up the courage and strength to speak as you let out the words which were oh so irritating for someone in his shoes because of the obliviousness “What do you mean?” 

You close your eyes when you hear Jake let out a scoff, “You know what I mean, this is not working out. Whatever we have going on, none of it is working out. We can pretend that it’s all fine but deep down you know nothing is. Let’s stop wasting each other's time and just..end it.” Jake says that as he stands up from the bed and grabs his coat to walk out of the room. 

“Can we still be friends?” You ask him, halting in his steps Jake turns around and lets out a small sigh when he sees your expectant eyes which were now filled with tears threatening to fall down and roll down your cheeks. 

“We can’t be friends..” he says as he leaves the room and slams the door of your house shut. 

You sit there in silence as you look around the room, on this very bed you celebrated your 20th birthday with him. 

“We can’t be friends, but I’d just like to pretend…” you mumble to yourself as you bring your legs to your chest and let your tears fall down. 

Date: March 30th 2024 

Time: 12:47 PM

Walking down the street you hug yourself closer as you look up at the sky, it was empty which made you smile but it had no feelings. 

You stop walking when you hear footsteps behind you, turning your head you could feel your face stiffening when you see Jake running in your direction. 

“Are you going back home?” He says once he is in front of you. Giving him a single nod you start walking again, not being able to stare at him for another second. 

Walking in silence you stare at the ground while kicking the stones on the sidewalk. Taking in a deep breath you look up at Jake who was walking beside you. 

In his words he just wanted to make sure you reached home safely. Hence, the reason he decided to accompany you. 

“Do you regret it?” You ask suddenly. You notice Jake stopping in his tracks for a moment only to walk again as he tries to act nonchalant. 

“Regret what?” He asks softly as he looks down at you, his eyes looking like daydreams. You still remember how you always felt seen and heard at night. 

For you night is when you can finally be yourself, you don’t have to hide yourself anymore. 

“Us breaking up…” 

Letting out a deep breath Jake looks at you with a small smile as he holds your hand guides you towards the end of the footpath to sit down on the ground. 

“We needed to put an end to our story Y/N…I did not want to continue feeding on the monstrous fire which was increasing day by day. It’s difficult, yeah…but that’s the best for us.” He says softly as he holds your hands in hid for comfort. 

“It’s hard. Really hard. I don’t know how you’re acting all fine..” you tell him as you pull your hand away from him. 

“I am not fine if that’s what you’re wondering. I tell myself countless times to just wait for you to come back but then I was the one who broke up with you. I wish we could still be friends but I cannot get myself to do it. I cannot pretend to be your friend when I know I want more than that.” He says as he lets out a small sob. 

“I can wait for you. I can wait for your love, I can do that..” you say as you try to stop yourself from crying over this again. 

Shaking his head he lets your hand go as he stands up and helps you stand up. 

“Can I just say one thing?” You say softly, your words coming out slurred as the alcohol starts getting to you. Giving you a small nod he helps you walk towards your house, “Know that you made me the happiest person when we were together. I couldn’t ask for more than what we had…it feels like you left me hanging by myself but I know I would have to move on and let this story die.” 

You say everything in one go as you cough and hiccup. You notice Jake opening his mouth to speak again but you stop him by putting your finger up telling him that you want to continue and that you’re not done yet, “For now, it’s only me but…but I’d like to pretend that we’re still friends, okay?” You say as you look at him with your expectant eyes. 

“Okay…whatever you say..” he says softly as he looks down at your shining eyes which were staring back up at him. “Maybe that’s all you need to move on from me..” he says, mostly to himself but you catch onto it but he doubts you’d remember all this in the morning tomorrow. 

Reaching your door steps he helps you stand straight as he looks through your bag to find your keys. 

“You keep on clinging to your papers and pens, yeah?” You say softly in a joking manner as you enter the house and slam the door shut on his face. 

Letting out a small chuckle Jake looks at your door as he takes a step back, stuffing his hands in his pockets he takes a one last look at your door and walks away. 

That’s an end to a story then, something which was bittersweet. There are some moments he wishes he could forget all together but most of them are the ones he cherishes the most and that’s what matters to him. 

You guys maybe strangers to each other now but the time you both spent as lovers was some of the most valuable ones. 

[skzcollision]

churchboy!felix x afab!reader (1/7)

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genre: fluff, eventual smut, teen angst

synopsis: certain expectations come with being a pastor’s daughter. in everyone’s eyes you are a properly behaved girl, albeit rather timid. according to your parents, you aren’t as devoted to the church as you should be. they entrust you to an old family friend’s son, deeming him to be a good influence. these circumstances bring you two closer together and stir up all kinds of emotions.

MINORS DNI

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

It has been a good four months since you began doing these bible readings together.

You have built a genuine friendship over that time and despite dreading these meet ups at first, you found yourself looking forward to seeing Felix more each and every time. He makes it easy for you.

He knows how difficult it is for you to keep from nodding off during those sermons and bible studies; he knows that you do not enjoy church.

So to make things a little more pleasant for you, he lets you choose the time and place for these bible readings. He brings you snacks and he doesn’t mind when you veer off topic every once in a while.

Felix has created a comfortable space for you, not just spiritually, but in general. It’s inevitable that you start catching feelings for him. You have always found him physically attractive. After all, he is the main reason why you have perfect attendance at church.

But you enjoy the way he teases you, the way he is so sweet with you, and the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. You love the smatterings of freckles across his face, you love the weird shit he says randomly out of nowhere and the way he is himself with you, and vice versa; you love just about everything about him.

So it is a disappointment when you plan a picnic with him this time and he makes it a point to sit a good few feet away from you.

You suppose it is your fault, as you have been dressing a little too provocatively for bible readings lately and last time when you were watching a movie together, you sat a little too close to his lap.

The thought that you could have possibly ruined things with him and made him uncomfortable breaks your heart.

“Felix,” you say, fingers dragging across the soft flannel. “Come sit closer, you’re hardly even on the blanket.”

He glances up at you over his bible, then pulls his gaze away, shaking his head. “Thanks, I’m fine here.”

A sigh leaves your mouth. “Did I do something?” Your eyes trace the pattern of the blanket, fingers playing with the frills of your skirt.

“Hey,” Felix’s voice is closer now, causing you to look up. He is leaning forward on his hands, eyes earnest. “Of course not.”

“Then why are you sitting so far from me?”

He pulls away and it is silent for a while. All you hear is the soft crashing of waves against the shore and a seagull in the distance. “No reason.” Felix clears his throat. “Can we get back to–“

“Are you afraid that I’ll pounce on you?”

Heat flickers in his gaze, but it is for a short moment—as if you had only imagined it. He’s good at hiding. Maybe even better than you.

“W- What?” His breathing sounds heavier now. “No, why would you…”

“I won’t, okay?” You shuffle closer to him, keeping your eyes locked. “I won’t, so, please… can we sit closer?”

His tongue flicks out to wet his dry lips and you see his Adam’s apple bob. “Okay.” With hesitation, Felix moves in closer to you. “Is this better?” You were both sitting side by side like you usually did.

“Closer?” You almost squeak out, hands clammy against your lap.

“Wha- closer? How close?” There’s panic in his voice now and you feel that if you don’t do anything he will run away from you right this second.

So you let your instincts drive you and you bury your head into his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. You breathe in the oaky scent of his aftershave and the florals of his fabric softener.

A yelp leaves him, but he doesn’t push you away, and instead freezes up against you. Your name rolls out of his mouth clumsily. “W- We can’t do this here.”

“Sorry,” after a moment, you loosen your grip on him and you lift your head to look at his face.

You believe yourself to be just as flushed as him, the tips of his ears pink. It takes everything you have to not smother him again.

Felix says your name again, softly this time. “Don’t be sorry.” You only realize now that the hand on the small of your back has not left and your heart skips even faster than it is already; you’re scared that he can hear it.

“Please,” your voice is hushed, hardly audible. “Let’s just hold each other.” You slide your leg over his, and your arms take their place around his waist again. “It’s just us here. No one will know.”

Felix gulps. “God knows.”

But he lets you hold him anyway. And he holds you too.

⭒

| 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 |

[dailyreverie]

19. ''if we're caught kissing we're most likely dead but let's risk it'' + poe dameron !! <3

Risky kiss

Thank you so much for requesting! Here's some cute flirty Poe for you 💖

Word count: 915

Warnings: making out with Poe

You are almost bouncing on your feet as you see Poe climbing out of his X Wing; after four days, it is hard not to jump on him right there and then in front of everyone. “Commander, it’s good to have you back.” You state politely, maybe almost too much, since he smirks for a quick second not falling for your facade.

“It’s good to be back.” Poe replies with a polite, discreet nod, begonning to walk side by side.

“Succesful mission?” You break the silence after a couple of steps.

“I’d say so, let’s see what the General thinks.” Your eyes are looking straight forward, not daring to look at each other in fear to blow your cover off. You don’t stop walking either, heading towards the briefing room where the General is waiting for him. “I actually need a couple minutes to run something by you before going to her, if that’s alright for you, Lieutenant?” 

“Right- right now?” You ask with caution, but without giving you an answer Poe grabs your arm and pulls you to the side. “Poe, what the hell?!” You whisper-shout at him, looking around frantically to check no one’s looking at you. “They need you there!”

But Poe doesn’t care. He drags you to the other side of the hall into an empty room, not even taking the time to close the door as he guides you to the nearest wall and cages you in between his arms. 

“I don’t care, I missed you so much.” His lips are hungry, finding yours without a second to miss, capturing them in a kiss that leaves your knees shaking and your hands holding to his pilot suit. 

You sigh against his lips, savoring the feeling of having him with you again. “I missed you too.” 

He keeps going like that for a few more minutes, kissing you without letting you go, tongue teasing your lips demanding for more of you.

“If we get caught kissing…” Poe leaves the phrase hanging in the air in between kisses, only second guessing when he remembers what could happen: “...we’re most likely dead.” 

You seem to not have heard him, pulling him in again and moving your hands up to his neck.

“We are not dead, don’t be so dramatic.” You demanded, making Poe’s laugh crash against your neck where his lips had just been at, hot air making goosebumps appear on your skin.

“Right. You are not dead, I am.” He emphasized, all while traveling up your neck to reach that sweet spot below your jaw. “I thought we couldn’t do this now.” His teasing makes you bite your lip to contain yourself, laughter and pleasure making all your body feel giddy; Poe’s lips are always too intoxicating, but somehow they’re even more when hiding in an empty room, after days of not being together, with his hands teasing every corner he knows that drives you wild.

“She’s not going to kill you, Poe.” You roll your eyes even though he can’t see.

“You never know, she might.”

“You want to stop then? ‘Cause you don’t seem to- mmmhhh- mind it.” The whimper you let out makes him weirdly proud, kissing that spot once more before pulling apart, seeing your breathless face and swollen lips with an accomplished smile, even though he looks the same. He can’t get enough of you, not when you are both already so worked up just from aa few kisses alone.

“What are you gonna do when she actually does it, then?” He whispered, back at your lips again this time with softer lips.

“The General would never kill you.”

“Let’s risk it, then.” He seals it with a kiss that’s too needy even for him, one that makes you melt against his arms again as he tastes you slowly but firm, over and over again, letting your fingers tangle in his curls as you keep him in place. Poe is everywhere yet not where you need him, your fingers find his zipper and start moving it down, the need to feel his skin too consuming to remind yourself that you don’t really have time for more. 

Not unless you want to get caught…

“We’re already waiting for you in the room, Commander Dameron.” The General’s voice appears begind you, interrupting you as she walks by. Poe and you freeze, almost pushing each other apart as you hear her voice.

“Y- yeah… Yes, General. I’ll be right there.” Poe replies after clearing his throat withouth so much as turning around, face red and waiting for death. 

You use Poe’s broad body to cover yourself, sinking into yourself and closing your eyes hoping she wouldn’t see you, because maybe if she didn’t see you then one of you could be saved.

“And that better not be my daughter you are sucking the life away from.” The smirk in her voice is obvious.

“Shit,” you mumble, closing your eyes hoping it was all a bad dream, or a weird hallucination.

“I’ll deal with you two later. Dameron, briefing room.” Without a word more from you, the General turns around and heads towards the room she was previously waiting at.

“I think she will actually kill us.” You admit in a low voice that only makes Poe laugh. He dips in after, giving you one last soft, tender kiss. 

“It was completely worth it.” Poe gives you a dopey smile, and just for that, death might even be worth it.

********************************************

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed!

[babiebom]

When You Fall (ix)

A/N:oopsies work got ahold of me and I haven’t written anything for this in like a couple of months. I do wanna update more regularly, and I do wanna make a career out of writing(and streaming) at some point but I work every day except for weekends where I work another job and I am exhausted. Hopefully I get out of my writers block soon also I named the chicks names I gave mine in game lmao

Tw: depression, cursing, anxiety, smoking the usual for this fic so far

Wc:1.9k

Stardew Masterlist WYF Masterlist

Previous Next

Unlike for the last two weeks, you awoke to silence. There’s nothing going on outside or inside your house, and that can only mean one thing. As soon as you sit up in your bed to stretch, a loud knock on your front door echoes throughout your tiny home and causes you to shake out of your post sleep haze and move towards the front door.

Shadow barked loudly, running around your legs as you head towards the door. She’s very excitable and having her for almost a month now, you were grateful for it. Her and Mango had kept your mind off of everything and now since you have a chicken coop you’d have even more to keep you busy. Opening the door, you have to steel yourself in order not to choke on your spit, this being the most unexpected visitor you’ve ever had. Sebastian stands in front of you, sleeves rolled up with a lit cigarette in his hand. He looks just as surprised as you, as if he wasn’t expecting you to actually answer the door.

Sebastian clears his throat as you hurriedly try to adjust yourself. Marnie had seen you right after you had woken up before; and so had Robin, who you were expecting instead of her son. “Uh…good morning?”

“Good morning.” You reply, staring at him. He didn’t look the slightest bit happy to be standing there and honestly being greeted first thing in the morning wasn’t something that you loved (though in this town you have to get used to it) so this entire experience was horrific. For a couple of awkward seconds the both of you are silent, only being forced out of it after Shadow pushes past you to be let free onto the farm.

“Sorry about that.” You frown as the both of you stumble a bit. Sebastian’s eyes wander over to Shadow who had begun rolling on the growing grass.

“No, it’s fine.”

“So what were you here for?”

“Right! Um… my mom sent me to tell you that your coop is ready and that it’s only big enough for a couple of chickens, but you can upgrade it to house bigger animals…and uh,” he pauses for a second nose scrunching as he tries to remember whatever the message was. It was kinda cute, in a totally normal way of course, “and that if you want any upgrades on your house like a kitchen or an indoor bathroom that she would be happy to do it. For a few, obviously.” He breathes out harshly the second he finishes his small speech, letting his shoulders drop.

“Tell her I said thanks,” you smile. But it’s not a good smile, it’s one of those where your lips go inwards? Again this is a very awkward situation. He begins to walk away and you realize that while you like Marnie, talking to her was a bit too much as she often went in about things when you were in a hurry. And quite frankly being alone on the farm all day was getting a bit difficult for you. The medicine helped keep things right below the surface, but they also made being alone that much worse. Before you could at least break down about your feelings, now all you can do is think and think and think until you spiral for so long that you almost forget to feed your animals.

“Um, I’m so sorry to ask this but could you come to Marnie’s with me? I wanna buy a chick or two from her but I’d need help bringing them back here?”

He just stared for a second before nodding once. You begin to step outside before remembering that you’re still in your pajamas. The only way to describe how you reacted is to say your entire body stutters, stopping you in your tracks to leave as soon as you remember that you need to be dressed. You stammer out an apology before somewhat slamming the door in his face. Your cabin isn’t big at all, no rooms, no bathroom, just your bed and your pet bed and a television. It should’ve been easy to ask him to stay outside while you changed, but it was difficult seeing as your brain was lagging from seeing him first thing in the morning, your routine being disrupted, and the fact that you’ve just opened your eyes not even five minutes before having this conversation.

As soon as you open the door it’s almost comical how similar it is to when you had opened the door to find him originally. Sebastian visibly jolts, mid puff with his relit cigarette you apologize again before you both make your way down to Marnie’s.

The walk there is basically silent. He doesn’t speak unless you say something first, and you don’t really want to say anything but the little anxiety monster in your head doesn’t let you stay silent for more than five minutes. “So…what do you do for work?”

You avoid looking at him as you ask because it’s sort of awkward, and almost regret asking but as he lets out a huge smoke cloud he answers you. “Just some freelance programming work…”

It almost surprises you, but then realistically what sort of career could you have in this town? “Do you like it?”

He shrugs, “it’s okay. I prefer it over working for some company. Working freelance means that I’m not competing in some corporate rat race like everyone else.”

You nod in understanding. Working for Joja was one of the worst work experiences you’ve had, even worse than being yelled at in retail. So him not really wanting to participate in that sort of environment sounded like it was good for his mental health. Maybe if you had the same beliefs you would’ve been able to handle everything better, or at least you would've been in a better place mentally to handle everything.

Getting to Marnie’s, you’re somewhat in a better mood than you’ve been in for a while. It was kind of comfortable walking with him and not feeling judged or pitied. As soon as you walk into Marnie’s place, her eyes are wide with surprise as she sees Sebastian walk in behind you. For a moment you want to ask him to step outside or something, because as much as you like Marnie, she does like to gossip. But it’s whatever at this point, and asking him to step out is rude to him and would make things worse for her. “Hi Marnie! Robin finished my coop recently so I wanted to come in and buy some chicks! Do you have any available?”

“Yeah…you can follow me out back and choose how many you want.”

The chicks were literally the cutest, fluffiest little things you’ve ever seen. Their bright yellow feathers almost immediately bring joy to you, their tiny peeps and hops make you want to take all of them and go home. But your coop only houses four and you don’t want to cram all four into the coop immediately because that seemed horrible.

You end up picking up one that was hovering around you instead of running around with the others. “Oh hello…!”

“Do you care which one I pick or…?”

You shrug, allowing yourself to feel the happiness and warmth that you know is fleeting. “All of them are cute. You can pick one!”

Marnie makes a face and you just ignore her in favor of snuggling the tiny chick closer. Sebastian takes a second, and to your surprise looks like he’s taking it seriously. He picks the tiniest one of the bunch that looks a little rough but is still so cute. “You wanna have them names? So I can have them registered?” Marnie asks.

“You register all of the animals?” You ask. It seems like it would be the natural thing to do. Having no vet in the area and almost all of the animals being owned by Marnie at some point except for your stray cat and dog that she has said she has no idea where they came from.

“Yup, Lew- Mayor Lewis wants all of the animals registered. He likes everything to be documented.” Her cheeks turn pink at the mention of the Mayor, but you just keep that files away in your mind. You weren’t really the petty revenge type of person, but you needed ammunition just in case.

“Well,” you start, having thought about names on the way here, “this one I’m holding can be Chica and that one that Sebastian is holding is Chickadee.”

Marnie’s eyes light up at the names. “That’s so cute! I’ll get them registered right away! I’ll make the trip to see the Mayor myself.”

“I can register them? So you don’t have to!”

“No no!” Her eyes widened. “I can register them, it’s no trouble at all. I manage all of the other animals' documents anyway. It will be easy.”

You agree and leave Marnie’s place, Sebastian falling into step beside you. After you get a few meters away he begins laughing, holding Chickadee to his chest so she doesn’t fall while he cracks up.

You smile at the noise, it was nice to hear him laugh seeing as things between you have been mostly quiet. “What’s funny?” You ask softly, wanting to know what he knew that you didn’t.

“She thinks that her little relationship with Lewis is some big secret!”

“She’s actually in a relationship with him? I thought it was just a crush.”

“If you could call it a relationship. He sneaks over to her place in the middle of the night, she sneaks to his sometimes, that’s about it. Jas has told Penny about it, and since she and Sam are friends she told him. But even if Jas didn’t say anything, everyone would know anyways. She always looks so in love when they’re in the same room.”

“Has it been going on for long?”

“Maybe for a couple months or a year or so. I’m not sure about that, all I know is that they hook up sometimes and both are bad at acting as if nothing is happening.”

After having Chickadee and Chica for a week they’ve already grown so much that you have to adjust quickly to the change. Getting animals meant that you had things to take care of and love and also they kept you distracted for long periods of time because you chose (well you and Sebastian chose) the two neediest chickens you thought ever existed. They constantly wanted cuddles and kisses and attention as well as Mango and Shadow wanting the same thing. Your animals combined with the daily chores of taking care of your plants and you never ending task of clearing the farm from debris meant that the only time you had to wallow in self pity was when you were getting ready to sleep at night. And even then it wasn’t that long because after working outside all day you were always exhausted. Luckily having your time taken up by all of these things were more helpful to your mental health than harmful. More time dedicated to making sure your little farm was taken care of meant that less time was dedicated to feeling bad and contemplating ending it all.

Life was turning out okay…

Okay as long as you had some sort of distraction.