#I swear the fic explains SOME things as to why that is

[nialovessatoru]

archive

thinking about academic rival gojo satoru who was mesmerised from the first time he saw you and grew even more infatuated with you as he realized how smart you were.

you didn’t engage much with other people, didn’t care for gossip or drama, never laughed at his jokes in class

only once, you called him a “pretentious mess” under your breath. you didn’t even stick around to see him splutter.

and god, he was obsessed.

he very quickly and harshly had to face how one-sided his infatuation was.

it was a stupid attempt at flirtation, something he didn’t spend too much thought on, because if he did, he would’ve overthought it and never said it.

on second thought, maybe that would’ve been better.

he leaned against the door of the classroom as you were about to leave, with a stupidly cocky grin that concealed his nerves effortlessly as he said something like,

“you know, it’s kind of hot when you get all snarky while explaining”

you blinked.

and blinked again.

then let out a harsh scoff.

“don’t you have somewhere to be, gojo?”

then you brushed past him without a second glance.

from your perspective, it cemented what you already assumed; gojo satoru was a cocky, smug asshole who only talked to you to get under your skin.

so that’s what you let yourself believe.

you became more competitive, tried to get better grades than him on everything and got infuriated when that resulted in the both of you becoming top of the class, equal in academic achievements.

at first, gojo didn’t understand why you always seemed so agitated when he scored better than you. he studied hard to impress you.

but you weren’t.

he entertained the rivalry regardless, seeing it as a game, something to bring you two closer in its own way.

when it finally clicked and he realized that you must’ve taken it as him seriously trying to defeat you, he decided to try again.

he approached you when you were sitting alone in the cafeteria, asked if you wanted to get coffee, real soft, real genuine.

and you just stared at him.

“what?”, he’d chuckled, awkwardly. “coffee. with me. it’s not poisoned, promise.”

your eyes narrowed at him, tone sarcastic.

“oh wow, you must really have too much time. and a great sense of humor too.”

he stilled.

“…what?”

“look, if this is some weird prank or pity thing, save it.”

and you grabbed your bag and walked away. again.

and for a moment, gojo just stood there, stunned.

he didn’t realize you thought he was that much of an asshole. that you took his efforts and the rivalry he assumed to be a friendly competition so negatively.

he didn’t know how to tell you he thought of you more than he should.

that he noticed the way you clicked your pen and poked out your lower lip whenever you were thinking.

the way your handwriting would get messier and slanted more towards the left, when you suddenly came up with something.

that the day you won against him in the debate and that the hint of pride you showed when you countered his claims never left his head.

something in his chest ached at being rejected this way but it ached even more at the realisation that you truly disliked him.

and okay, maybe he deserved your cold shoulder because he was entirely too cocky that one day and made a comment that clearly struck you the wrong way, which he never tried to fix.

but he will from now on.

god, he will.

he swears he’ll show you his true self. not your rival. not the popular prick who charmed girls left and right.

but the satoru whose heart felt like it was struck by cupids arrow from the first time he observed you from his desk on the other side in class.

he’d try.

try hard to make you see him for real.

because he needed you to know that side of him that wanted nothing more than your recognition.

the side of him that had fallen so hopelessly and deeply in love with you.

a/n: my fingers are itching to write a full fic about this because oh my god, i need him bad.

[iamespecter]

"Well shit"

Designs of the entire cast for my fic, "The Unexpected Reunion"! You can read the prologue and the first chapter on my ao3 :) https://archiveofourown.org/works/56008111/chapters/142245028

Bonus with their real names:

[reidrum]

you say ‘what a mind’ | s.r.

A/N: she’s back and with fluff! (?) exams were really putting me through the ringer but i missed posting so i fixed up this draft i had, i hope you enjoy :D ive been listening to sabrina 25/8 since she dropped so hopefully song inspired fics coming soon 🤞🏽

summary: you get really excited about something new you learned and spencer gets really excited about you

wc: a short n sweet 1k

cw: none, tooth rotting fluff

_______________________________________________

With Spencer's extensive knowledge of just about everything, you had assumed that there wasn’t much you contribute to his abundant learning.

You maybe weren’t three-PhD’s smart, but you were smart, averagely speaking. But you knew Spencer was smart, and truth be told it intimidated you. He never made you feel bad about not knowing something, ever. Anytime he gets to talk to you about anything his face lights up like the night sky.

There was, however, one time you had come home all excited to explain a concept from class that finally clicked for you. And the first person you wanted to tell was Spencer.

He watched you bound up to him with a spring in your step, bright eyed and wide cheeks as you told him, “I have to tell you about what I learned about today, it finally made sense to me. Like it felt like a real life light bulb final puzzle piece fitting type moment!”

He smiled warmly down at your eager face, “Alright angel, lay it on me.”

“Okay, I know it’s a little stupid it’s taken me this long to get it, but it’s—“

The call of your name sternly yet fondly falling from Spencer’s lips interrupts your self deprecating preamble, “Hey, we don’t do that, remember? We talked about this.”

Your rants almost always started with some self deprecating remarks, and he would always frown and try to interject and shut them down, to which you’d wave him off under the guise of, “If I stop, I’ll forget!” You were smart, but stubborn to a fault. He loved you for it, but it was hard for him to see you not understand the value you held, the value that your voice and your words and your opinions held. The value that he knew with all certainty you possessed.

A sheepish blush rises on your cheeks as you mumble, “Sorry.”

His fingers trickle closer to yours and wrap around them firmly, bringing you to sit on the couch next to him as he pulls your legs over to rest on his.

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” he says saccharinely, “We’re working on being nicer to ourselves right?”

You nod, he smiles softly back at you and continues, “Okay, tell me what you learned today.”

You start on your long explanation of the inner workings of the nervous system and its intricacies, explaining details and anecdotes that really showcase the inner workings of how your mind processes information.

Spencer can’t help but stare at you in deep fascination, complete with an awestruck smile and glimmering eyes.

He’s met hundreds of scientists, specialists, celebrities even, and listen to them talk about their research in extensive detail and with expansive knowledge. Hell, he’s had to do it himself with his three doctorates.

But as he sits in front of you, watching the person he’s most fond of on this planet watch you talk with so much speed, conviction, passion, with your hands move with purpose and excitement, he truly swears he has never been more in love with you than that moment.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask cautiously.

“You,” he moves closer, “Are so intelligent, did you know that?”

“Spencer, I’m not in the mood for jokes plea—“

“No, my love. You are brilliant,” he moves closer to be an inch away from you, placing his hands on your cheeks, “The way you process information is fascinating. When I watch you explain things to me I can see you organize it in your pretty head. It is actually mesmerizing watching you absorb knowledge the way you do. You’re like, a beautiful puzzle all undone, but by the forces of nature you’re able to put yourself together and bear the finished product to me, to anyone.”

Your eyes tear up, “Spence…what the fuck.”

He chuckles softly, “I mean it,” he holds you firmly, planting you in the roots of his belief, “What a mind you have, darling.”

It’s enough to make you tuck your head into his chest, obstructing his view from your imminent tearfall.

“You can’t just say things like that.” you mumble against the soft fabric of his shirt.

Spencer instinctively wraps his arm around your torso, letting the other hand take purchase in your hair, gently stroking it down, “Why not?” He speaks softly.

“Because…I might think you're like, in love with me or something.” You joke.

His laugh rumbles through his chest and into your rested head, “Would that be so bad?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s going to be another whole moon cycle before I have another a-ha moment like this again. I’ll have nothing to impress you with.”

Spencer smiles and sighs, squeezing you tighter against him, “You always impress me.”

You groan, “Ugh, you don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“You do know that you’re really smart, right?” you open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off, “You always underestimate yourself, but you’re really one of the smartest people I know. And I know a lot of smart people.”

A deep sigh leaves you, but he continues, “And you don’t have to believe me. I’ll believe it enough for the both of us. You and your brain are remarkable, so when you come to me with your a-ha moments thinking I’ll be impressed with your spark of knowledge, just know that I am impressed with you, but it’s more because I get to see you realize just how capable you are yourself.”

The calming motion of his fingers through your hair tether you back to this world, your insides fluttering about like butterflies in an open field. It was hard not to believe his words when Spencer was always so kind to you. It was always so easy for you to play it off like you didn’t deserve it.

But Spencer knew wholeheartedly that you did deserve it, that you were even entitled to it. And he’d spend the rest of his life reminding you. That, you knew for a fact.

“I love you,” you say softly, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me angel, I love you too.” He mumbles in your head, his hand trailing down your sides in comfort.

[marauder-misprint]

Hiii! So I wanna start off by saying how absolutely in love I am with your writing. It's so fucking amazing and I can never get enough, I swear I've read most of your marauders' fics more than three times cause they just stay absolute gems 😭

I love how you write Remus, he's such a cutie, and I was hoping maybe you'd want to write a little fic with shy!reader x casanova!Remus? Some pining from reader's side, who's not at all popular or well-known and wayyy too shy to ever make a move, let alone on Remus? I'd like it to be fluffy, but it can contain basically anything you want 🫶

Thank you so so so much!

🥰🥰🥰 Thank you for all the love/support and the request!

And if reader won't make a move on Remus, he'll make a move on you. But politely bc that's who Remus is.

'These damn stairs'

part 2, part 3

Remus Lupin x reader

2k words

cw: fluff, mutual pining

It was a common sight to see: Remus studying in the library at a full table. Occasionally, the other seats were filled by James, Sirius and Peter, but more often than not, they were filled with various girls. He was always leaning over the table to explain something, keeping his voice low enough to not disrupt others. When he wasn’t at his own table, you would watch him offer his assistance to other girls in the area. It was obvious why so many girls loved him and purposefully sat near his table, simply hoping their expression was confused enough to catch his attention.

From what you could tell, he loved it too. How could he not? Pretty girls from every house trying to get his attention. You knew Gryffindor girls were the luckiest; they could vie for his attention in their common room as well and they had the highest chance of sharing a class with him. 

You watched Remus from afar. He was a mischievous genius, part of the Marauders and a prefect. You were a nobody who preferred to stay out of the spotlight. As much as you’d like to have Remus’ attention, you knew it would come with far more eyes on you than you wanted. You made peace with admiring him in secret. You envied the girls with the courage to lean over his shoulder, asking him to read their essay for them. You wished you were a part of the group that surrounded him during quidditch matches. You dreamed that one day Remus might invite you to Hogsmeade on a date, despite knowing that the chances of that were slim. 

You were surviving the day and on your way to the library during your free period. 

At least you were when your foot sunk into a fake step and got lodged. You cried out as your books spewed from your arms, spilling down the stairs. The few students who were around you snickered and walked around you. No one stopped to help you up or free your foot. The embarrassment alone was enough for tears to prick your eyes. You squeezed your eyes shut and took deep breaths to gather yourself.

“Hey, are you okay?” 

That voice. You’d recognize it anywhere. You opened your eyes to see Remus kneeling next to you. He had some of your things that had fallen farther down the stairs. 

“These damn stairs, right?” he joked when you didn’t answer him.

He set your things down a few steps up and then gently reached for your calf. 

“Turn your foot to the left. Then point your toes. It’ll help you wiggle your foot free,” he instructed.

You did as told and soon enough you were free. 

“Thanks,” you said softly. 

You immediately went into gathering the rest of your things.

“Yeah, it’s no problem, love.” He stood up when you did. “I’m Remus, by the way.” Part of you wanted to laugh that Remus thought you didn’t know who he was. Instead, you mumbled out your name and said, “Thanks again, Remus.”

Then, no longer feeling like studying due to your humiliation, you headed in the direction of your common room, holding your book tight to your chest. Remus watched you walk away. He recognized your face from the classes you had together and the time you spent at the library. He had never approached you in the library because of the focus that emanated from your table; he didn’t want to disturb your flow. 

You hoped to put the embarrassment of falling into a false step behind you. You had gotten Remus’ attention, but it wasn’t in the way you wanted. You certainly hadn’t wanted it to be paired with the laughter of your peers. Little did you know how deeply you caught Remus’ attention.

He chatted with his friends outside of the Transfiguration classroom the next day. When you walked by, he smiled at you and said hello. You returned the gesture and hoped you weren’t blushing as all of his friends looked at you. You took your seat and tried to calm yourself down. Simple pleasantries should not send you into such a frenzy. 

Remus noticed your reaction, finding it curious. It didn’t deter him from acknowledging you whenever he was near you. He would’ve been lying to himself if he said he didn’t think your blush was cute. The more he observed you, the more he realized how much you kept to yourself and seemed content to be alone. That, however, made Remus want to get to know you. He wanted to know the girl who hadn’t put herself directly in his path. 

He made sure to stop by wherever you were studying in the library to say hello. He would take a longer route to where his friends were sitting in the Great Hall so that he could ask you a question about homework, whether he actually needed the answer or not. He tried to catch you in between classes, but you proved to be more elusive then. Each interaction left you blushing and flustered, although after two weeks of it, you came more accustomed to it. Remus saw that as progress and hoped you would be open to having a real conversation with him. 

If someone had told you a month ago that you’d be trying to avoid Remus, you wouldn’t have believed them. However, you somewhat were. Every time he spoke to you, you felt like the whole castle was listening in and judging every word you said to him. You assumed that he was just being polite. You assumed that you were just the girl who fell on the stairs to him. 

---

“When I call your name, come get your essay and then you are dismissed,” Professor Flitwick said, holding the stack of graded essays at the front of the classroom. “James Potter, Emmeline Vance, Severus Snape, Remus Lupin.”

The first four students got up and retrieved their essays. You rested your head on your hand as you waited for your name. Obviously they weren’t in alphabetical order, and you assumed it wasn’t grade-wise either since you were confident in the essay you turned in. After a few more names were called, Flitwick called yours. You got your essay, noted the O at the top and left the classroom with a small smile on your face. Maybe it was the order in which the essays were turned in?

“Hey!” Remus called from where he was standing off to the side. 

You kept walking. There was no way that he was talking to you. Sirius or Peter must’ve been called after you. 

Then he called your name. You froze. You could hear footsteps as he jogged over to you. 

“How’d you do?” he asked once at your side. “O! Nice.”

You realized you were still holding your essay and hurriedly tucked it inside of your things.

“Yeah, I put in the work.” 

He gave you his easy smile and then ran a hand through his hair.

“I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

“Um, sure?” 

“Would you like to study with me later?”

You stared at him, unable to breathe. Had he just asked if you wanted to study with him? Well, yes, he had. But it didn’t feel real. Your mind started to spin with worry. You wanted to study with Remus. You wanted to spend time with him. But whenever he studied, he was always surrounded by so many other people vying for his attention. It was bad enough that whenever he talked to you, you could feel the eyes of everyone passing you; you knew that they were wondering why a guy like Remus was talking to a nobody like you. 

Remus said your name, bringing you out of your thoughts. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I’d like that,” you managed to say.

His smile, which had briefly faltered at your hesitation, relaxed. 

“Great!” he said. “Meet you outside the library after dinner, yeah?” 

“Yeah. Erm, I’ll see you then, Remus.”

Remus turned and headed back towards the classroom, likely to wait for Sirius and Peter if they hadn’t been called already. You took a deep breath to steady yourself before you continued on your own way. You had just agreed to study with Remus and he was the one to ask you. He had actually asked you. And you agreed. 

It didn’t take long for your nerves to spike. You were regretting your decision to agree. The feeling of looming embarrassment hung around you for the rest of the day and through dinner. Part of you debated sending Remus a note saying that you were feeling ill and couldn’t make it, but another part told you that he might not invite you again and this could be your chance to make an impression on him. 

You ended up walking to the library. With each step, you felt your heart rate increase. You were sure that if you weren’t holding onto your things with such a death grip, your hands would be shaking. 

Remus was waiting for you, just as he had said he would. 

“Hi!” he greeted you enthusiastically. 

You smiled at him as he held open the door for you.

“I’ve got a table claimed in the back,” he told you, taking the lead.

Your nerves changed into confusion as you passed Remus’ usual collection of tables. He led you to a more secluded part of the library where his things littered one of the smaller tables with only two chairs around it.

Trying not to sound too ecstatic by the sight, you asked, “Oh, is it just us?”

Remus chuckled softly. “I invited you to study, not our entire year.”

A subtle blush dusted your cheeks.

“Oh… I just… You’re usually…” you mumbled.

“Yeah, I know,” he said. There was that easy smile again. “Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I assumed you’d rather have a more private table.” He paused as he watched your face for a change in expression. “We can move to a different table, if you’d like.”

Your blush became more prominent. He actually put thought into what table you’d like to study at? 

“Oh, no, no. This is good. You’re right. I study better when there’s less people around.”

“Helps with focusing, don’t it?”

“Yeah,” you breathed as you placed your things on the table.

His smile grew. He pulled out your chair and helped you in before taking his own seat. The two of you worked diligently in silence for a while. Every once in a while he stopped and watched you work; he loved the face you made when you focused so deeply that nothing around you could catch your attention. 

“What’d you think of Slughorn’s lecture today?” he asked.

“Hm?” You looked up from your assignment and processed what he had asked. “Kind of repetitive, if I’m honest. I guess some students need the review though…”

“Glad it wasn’t just me,” he smirked. “Good thing there are some pretty distractions in that class.”

You gave him a curious look as you repeated, “Pretty distractions?”

“You know,” he said, resting his elbow on the table, “the same pretty distraction that I have Charms, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Defense with.”

You bit your lip. You had those classes with him.

“Believe it or not, saw that same distraction on the stairs a few weeks ago. Strange how she travels…”

Oh. oh. You blushed furiously before turning your attention back to your assignment. Remus Lupin was not flirting with you. There was no way. 

He let you return to your work, watching you sort through your thoughts for a minute before returning to his own. Once again, you worked in tandem. After a while, you started yawning. You cleaned up your stuff, which caught Remus attention. 

“This was nice,” he said as he started to gather his own things. “I’d like to study with you more, if you’ll have me.”

If you’ll have me. 

“Same time tomorrow?” you offered.

“Same time tomorrow.”

As he watched you leave the library, all Remus could think about was getting you to come out of that shell of yours. Maybe then he’d be able to ask you out on a date. 

[bloatedandalone04]

Just Us Three

Summary: Yours and Jake’s son gets in trouble at school, and then Jake gets in trouble at home when he tries to hide it from you. (part 2 of this fic).

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: fluff, swearing, dilf jake, smut, angst if you squint, mentions of bullying, unprotected sex, dirty talk, protective jake.

Jake was still in his khaki uniform as he expertly manoeuvred his way through the halls of the school his son attends, similar to the way he skillfully moves in the sky. As his boots hit the granite tiles, he gave a nod to the school janitor, and the man half nodded, half waved back as he mopped the floor outside the bathrooms. 

He didn’t blame the guy for the lack-luster greeting one bit. Jake couldn’t imagine the horrors the poor lad had seen just today, let alone this week. And it was only Wednesday. 

Jake looked down at his watch and saw that it was quarter after three, and he was supposed to be at work for another few hours, but here he was. He was lucky he had such an understanding, albeit fed up, boss. 

When he rounded the corner and entered the school’s office, he was met with the kind smile that belonged to Miss Sands, the usually nice lady who sits behind the front desk. But that smile faded pretty quickly once she realized who had just walked in. “He’s in there,” she told him, pointing at the door that was just behind the desk, and that was all she said. 

“Thank you,” Jake said like it was part of his routine at this point. He walked past the desk and stood in the doorway, and he was greeted by an almost comically unimpressed look from the school’s principal, Mr. Harris. Jake held back a laugh, because this really wasn’t a funny moment, and raised his hand in a wave. “Hey…Mr. Harris.”

The principal raised his brow and looked over at the chair that was in front of his desk. “Mr. Seresin,” he stated, his tone flat and just…completely unfriendly. “Care to explain to me as to why your son is once again sitting in front of me?” 

Jake looked over as well, his green eyes meeting his son’s matching ones. “Hey, bud,” he mumbled, his brows furrowing a bit at the embarrassed look JJ had on his face. Jake cleared his throat and crossed his arms, looking back at the principal. “I don’t know, Mr. Harris. You’re the one who called me while I was at work.”

Mr. Harris pressed his lips into a thin line. “This is the second time I’ve had to call you this week,”

Jake clenched his jaw as he leaned against the door frame. “I’m aware,” he muttered. “This is also the second time I’ve had to leave work early this week.”

“Well, you are on the top of JJ’s contact list,” Harris said, crossing his arms as well. “Would you prefer I call your wife instead next time?” 

Jake tensed up at that, and he shook his head. “No,” 

The last thing he wanted was for you to get called out of work, and he knew you’d make it a much bigger deal than he does. Honestly, Jake didn’t want you to know about the multitude of calls he’s gotten from JJ’s school this month, because he knew it was mainly his fault. 

JJ had been having problems with a couple other kids in his grade, and Jake, being the protective father he discovered he is, told his five year old to stand up for himself and to not be afraid to speak his mind. 

Well…it turns out that JJ’s mind can be pretty…colorful, for lack of better words, and it’s gotten him in trouble more than once. This was probably the fifth or sixth time this month, and although Jake knew he needed to set some better boundaries here, he was also kind of annoyed. What about the other kids’ parents? Why can’t they teach their kids to not pick on his? JJ was taking Jake’s advice every time he had a problem with the other boys, and it seemed to be more often than not, yet clearly nothing was being done about the other kids. 

“Just keep calling me,” Jake muttered, rubbing at his forehead before stepping further into the office so he could stand next to JJ’s chair. “Or better yet, save me a trip and call the other kids’ parents. I know JJ’s got a…big mouth sometimes, but I also know it’s not just him. It’s the other boys in his class as well.”

Mr. Harris sighed and placed his hands on the surface of his desk. “Mr. Seresin, I’m aware of the comments the other boys have been making, but your son used language we don’t tolerate here,” he said, looking up at Jake expectantly. “Something needs to be done.”

Jake scoffed and moved to stand behind his son now, bracing his hands on the back of his chair as he leaned over. “Really?” he drawled, “What did he say?” 

Harris sighed and looked at JJ, and Jake quickly covered the five year olds ears - as if he wasn’t about to have what he said repeated back to his father. “He said ‘leave me alone you stupid…pussy’ to another kid on the playground,” he informed Jake, an embarrassed grimace on his face. “That kind of language is unacceptable here at school, Mr. Seresin.”

Jake stayed completely still, his hands still covering JJ’s ears as he processed what was just said. His kid said that? Where did he even learn that word? Jake doesn’t even use that word unless he’s…oh. 

Unless he’s pounding you into the bed he’s shared with you for the last eight years.

Well, fuck. 

Jake nodded after that and dropped his hands to JJ’s shoulders, giving his son a gentle squeeze. “Okay. Understandable. I will have a talk with him tonight,” he said, gesturing for JJ to stand up. He took his school bag from him and guided him towards the door of the office, but paused before he left. “But you need to do something about the kids that are picking on him, otherwise we’re gonna keep having problems.” 

Harris had the audacity to look offended at that, but Jake didn’t care as he took JJ’s hand and led him out to the parking lot. After he helped him into the backseat, Jake braced one hand above the door frame as he tried to think of what to say to his usually sweet son. “Listen, bud,” he started, glancing around the parking lot as a sigh left his lips. “What you said today, you can’t say that…word, okay? You’re too little to use those kinds of words, alright?”

JJ shifted in his seat, similar to the way Jake writhes around whenever you and he get into arguments - the ones he had no chance at winning. “But you say it. Uncle Bradley says it too sometimes when he drives me to soccer practice,” he mumbled, his big green eyes so innocent looking as he gazed up at Jake. “And I hear you say it to mommy sometimes at night time.”

Jake’s face heated up as he rubbed at his eyes, and he knew he would yell at Bradley the next time he saw him at work. “Is this when you’re supposed to be in bed?” JJ didn’t answer, and Jake shook his head as he ruffled his son’s blond hair. “I say it because I’m an adult, bud. And you need to stop trying to spy on your mom and I, alright?” 

JJ nodded, his sweet mind still innocent and unsure. Jake nodded too, then looked down at the paper in his hand that explained why JJ had been called to the office today, and he winced when he imagined you reading it. 

“Speaking of mom,” he mumbled, looking back up from the paper. “She doesn’t find out about this. Okay?”

JJ smiled up at Jake and nodded excitedly, seemingly more than happy to have a secret that only he and his dad know, and that was good enough for Jake. 

Well, it would’ve been, but JJ seemed to have forgotten all about the deal as later that evening, at the dinner table no less, he said something that had Jake’s heart skipping a beat. “Mommy! Daddy was so cool when he picked me up from the office today,” he beamed, and you furrowed your brows as you set your fork down. 

“What are you talking about, babe?” you asked, and Jake reached for his glass of water as you glanced over at him. 

“At the principal’s office,” JJ explained, and Jake quickly shook his head. 

“J, let’s not talk about this now, okay? Mommy just made dinner and we’re-”

“But you were so cool!” JJ cut him off before turning back to you. “Daddy used his angry voice on Mr. Harris today, mommy.”

You raised a brow, your eyes flickering between Jake and Jake Junior as you leaned back in your chair. “Why were you in the principal’s office today?”

JJ deflated a bit at that as he reached for his fork. “I…said a bad word,”

Your eyes widened and you looked over at Jake quickly. “Honey-”

“Jake,” you cut him off just like JJ did as you sat up straight again. “Why didn’t you tell me that he got sent to the principal’s office today? And why didn’t they call me?”

“Because I’m first on his contact list,” Jake mumbled, “And he and I had decided that it wasn’t important enough for you to know.” he added, narrowing his eyes at JJ, who just gave him a cute smile. 

“Jake Seresin, you have our child hiding things from me?” you gasped, then quickly composed yourself. “What was the word?”

Jake shifted in his seat as he set the glass down and picked up his fork again, a damn near carbon copy of the way JJ became uneasy when he was in the hot seat in the truck earlier today. He really was his father’s son. “It’s not appropriate dinner talk. I’ll tell you after,”

-

“He said what?” you nearly yelled as Jake crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. “Our son said that? How does he even know that word? We don’t say that unless we’re…”

Jake grinned at you as he slowly nodded, then he was dodging the dish towel you were using to clean the counter when you threw it at him. 

“He definitely picked it up from you,” you muttered as you walked past him to start clearing the table. Jake followed you of course, and wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. “You and your dirty mouth. You’ve had it since before we even got together.”

Jake was instantly brought back to all the times he flirted shamelessly with you in an attempt to get you to go out with him, only for it to all be thrown back at him because you were not one of those girls who caved easily to guys like him. That’s what made him clean up his act and ask you out in more nicer ways, which then eventually led to him taking you out on the most perfect date both of you had ever been on, and now he’s married to you. 

“Well, Bradley’s been saying it too. You know how bad his road rage is, he has no filter, even when he takes J to his soccer games. And I can’t help the filthy things that come out of my mouth whenever I get you alone,” he defended himself, pressing his cheek against yours as he held you snugly against his body. “You’re just too damn sexy, baby.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop him from cuddling you from behind, which Jake was happy about. Ever since you and he got together, he’s become obsessed with touching you in any way he could and holding you whenever he can. He just loved how perfectly you fit against his body, and he knew you loved it too, even if you complained about it sometimes. “Bradley is his uncle, he’s not with him all the time, so he has an excuse. You, my love, do not,” 

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, then trailed his nose along the shell of your ear. “You can’t be mad at me for this, honey. It’s not my fault the kid’s got big ears,” 

You laughed, picking up the plates before turning your head to look up at him. “I think it is your fault, dumbo,” you mumbled, and Jake gaped at you. 

“Be nice to me,” he whined, following after you like a lost puppy as you returned to the kitchen and began loading the dishwasher. “I’m so nice to you.”

Another laugh left your mouth. “You’re teaching our son to keep secrets from me,”

“Okay, that’s not fair,” he groaned, walking back out to the table so he could gather the glasses, JJ’s Spider-Man cup, and the cutlery. “I only told him that you didn’t need to know about it, not that I’d never tell you about it. I would’ve, just…a couple years from now.”

“Jake,” you scoffed, moving aside when he loaded the items into the dishwasher. “I’m his mother, I’m supposed to know these things too.” 

He turned to look at you, propping his hands on his hips once he closed the dishwasher. “And you would’ve known about this,”

You crossed your arms and raised one of your brows. “In a couple years from now?”

Jake grinned, “See, I knew you’d understand,” 

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, dodging his hand when he reached out and tried to pull you into his arms. “I’m going to go get him in the bath. Then you and I are going to talk more once he’s in bed.”

You sounded serious, and you looked serious, but Jake’s smile only grew, because he knew he’d be able to change the topic real quick once you and he retired to your room for the night. Easily. 

-

“Oh yeah,” he murmured as he kissed all along your shoulders, his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans and sliding the zipper down. “You and I are really talking a lot.”

You groaned, trailing your fingers through his hair gently before giving it a firm tug, making him moan against your skin. “You are so annoying,” you muttered, but your words weren’t hostile at all. 

Jake grinned against your skin as he pulled the denim off your legs. His heart was beating fast in his chest, because even after eight years with you, you still made him feel so fucking giddy and he was so in love with you. And he always will be. 

Nothing had changed, with the exception and addition of JJ. You were still the sarcastic yet sweet girl he fell head over heels for, and you were all his. “You love me,” Jake mumbled against your neck as he slid his hand inside your panties, his fingers instantly finding your clit. “You married me…you’re stuck with me.”

“Oh, the horror,” you said back, then moaned next to his ear when he slid his index and middle fingers inside you, and the sound went directly to his cock. “Fuck. Jake.”

He hummed as he lifted his head, his green eyes staring into yours as he leaned in and pressed his forehead against your own. “Mm, I love you,” he mumbled, sliding his fingers in and out of you. “I love you so much.”

You whimpered, tangling your hands in his hair as you guided his lips to yours in a deep kiss. “I love you too,” you mumbled against his mouth as he pulled his fingers out of you. He sat back on his knees and brought his hand up to his lips to taste you as he watched you kick off your panties, his eyes raking up and down your body as he moaned around his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he grunted, unzipping his uniform pants and shoving them down his legs, along with his boxers. He was out of his shirt before you were, and he took it upon himself to rid you of both your tank top and bra, leaving you bare beneath him and only further proving his words. 

You grinned up at him, shifting on the bed as you beckoned him closer with a curl of your finger. “You’re sexy,” you say back, wrapping your legs around his waist when he crawls back on top of you. “Even when I’m still mad at you for trying to get our son to hide something from me.”

Jake groaned, burying his face in your neck as he guided the tip of his cock through your folds. “Don’t hold that against me, honey, I was just trying to protect you, that’s all. I don’t want you to stress out over nothing,” he mumbled, then groaned again when he slid inside of you. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Such a tight-”

You reached up and placed your hand over his mouth, your eyes boring into his as he stilled. “Until you can figure out how to soundproof our room, you need to keep your dirty words to yourself, baby,” you said, and Jake grunted against your palm. 

You wanted him to be quiet while he is fucking you? Did you not know how good you felt and how damn near impossible it was for him to not tell you that? Yours and his sex life was full of dirty talk, and it always had been, how was he supposed to just…stop?

He was going to have to figure it out, because the alternative was sex in the truck or no sex at all, and the latter was something he was not about to agree to. 

“I’ll be quiet,” he muttered when you pulled your hand away, and his own gripped your hips as he started to slowly pull out of you. “But that means you need to be quiet too, which will probably be a lot harder for you to do.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Harder for me? Please, Jake, I can be quiet too-” but a loud gasp left your mouth as soon as he buried himself back inside of you, and Jake just smirked down at the dirty look you gave him. “Fair enough.”

“Uh huh,” he mumbled then leaned down to kiss you as he started to thrust in and out of your additive body. He swallowed your sweet moans he loved hearing, each one sounding more and more desperate as Jake fucked you slow and deep, just like how he knew you liked it. 

When he felt you tighten around him, he pulled away from your lips and buried his face against the side of your neck, his left hand coming up to cover your mouth as he rutted into you. “I love you,” he groaned against your neck when he felt you cum around him, and a few seconds later, he was there too. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders when he stilled his body and eased himself gently on top of you, cradling you in his arms as he pressed soft kisses against your neck. “I love you too,” you said back, running your fingers through his messy hair. “I love both my boys so much. And I want to know when he’s being picked on or having trouble in class, okay? We’re a team, you know that, right? You, me and J.”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, lifting his head and pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “I know we are. We’re the perfect team. I promise, I’ll tell you about it the next time he gets in trouble at school, okay?”

You raise your brow as you pull back to look up at him. “You make it sound like he gets into trouble all the time,” 

Jake grinned down at you, “Come on, babe. He is my kid after all. Trouble is in his blood,” he said back and then cut off your laugh when he leaned in and kissed you again.

[rafecameronssl4t]

All for her || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: canon fic based of s3 ep4

Warnings: swearing other than that, nothing really

Word count: 665

A/n: this actually concerning how much canon fics I’ve written/abt to write but if anyone has any request for anymore canon fics I’m more than happy to do them :)

MASTERLIST

divider by @yoonitos

As you close the front door to Tannyhill, Rafe is on the phone, pacing slightly. "Yeah, they said, um, two days on the transfer," he says," his voice strained with barely concealed tension. "it's in the works though, no worries," he assures Ward, trying to keep his tone steady as he leads you upstairs.

"Yeah, I'm upstairs, why? You said you wanted to talk about something. What's up?" Rafe questions, sitting on the edge of the bed while you settle into an armchair, your eyes on him, concerned. Rafe's expression shifts from curiosity to apprehension as he listens intently to Ward.

A heavy silence fills the room as Rafe's face drops, the weight of Ward's words hitting him hard. "Everything okay?" you ask softly, your concern growing. "Wait, wait, are you being serious?" Rafe's tone hardens, his confusion mirroring your own as you raise an eyebrow.

Pulling his phone away from his ear, Rafe looks at you with a mix of disbelief and anger. "He's giving away the fucking cross," he states, his voice filled with frustration and disbelief. Your lips part in shock. "I was just with you. What changed since then? What are you talking about?" Rafe returns back to the call, trying to piece together the sudden shift.

Rafe's struggle to maintain his composure is evident. You rise from your seat and rub his back gently, hoping to calm him. "Dad, no, no. Dad," Rafe pleads into the phone. "This cross is mine. You're taking it from me," he exclaims, his voice breaking slightly as he places a hand on your thigh for comfort.

"Listen, this is something that I got through my work, and now you're trying to make yourself feel better by giving away my shit?" Rafe's anger bubbles to the surface as he switches to speakerphone so you can hear. "And you didn't even tell me?"

"This is me telling you right now, son," Ward responds, his voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to Rafe's agitation. Rafe throws his head back in disbelief, his hand coming up to his forehead. "We've done some things, Rafe, you and I, all right?" Ward continues, and Rafe lets out a scoff. "Oh my god."

"Things that we need to atone for, and donating this cross, it's a good first step in the right direction," Ward explains, his tone calm. Rafe shakes his head at you, as you sigh knowing he won't understand his dad's reasoning. "I know that in my heart. Okay?" Ward adds. "I don't know. Maybe if Sarah finds out—"

"Sarah? Sarah!" Rafe interrupts furiously, standing up abruptly. "There it is! That's it!" he exclaims, slamming his hand on the dresser repeatedly, causing you to flinch. "There it is, Dad!" he yells into the phone. "Any more of my shit you wanna steal from me to impress Sarah?" he spits out in annoyance. "Who doesn't even give a shit about you?"

"It's Wilmington. It's tomorrow night. Get a pen. I'll give you the cargo information," Ward's voice is stern, leaving no room for argument. Rafe breathes heavily, his frustration evident. "Calm down, Rafe," you say quietly, coming up behind him and hugging him. At your touch and voice, Rafe begins to calm down.

You pull him onto the couch as he lets out a shaky breath, your thumb rubbing circles on his forearm to soothe him. "For the record, this is bullshit. Okay?" Rafe splutters. "This is my thing."

After a few seconds of silence, Rafe's features shift, and he forces a calm demeanor. "But of course, you can count on me," he says, though you can tell he feels betrayed.

Ward sighs in relief on the other end. "Okay, so listen," he begins. Rafe gets up, finding a pen and paper. "One second. Okay, Wilmington. Tomorrow night. Car 750X. Got it," he repeats, scribbling down the information.

A sudden creak from the floorboard makes both of you look toward the door. You and Rafe exchange a knowing look. "Hey, hang on—hang on. One second," Rafe says as you follow him out the room.

"Hello?" you call out as Rafe looks down the stairs. Another creak comes from the room you were just in. Rafe raises an eyebrow at you before heading back to retrieve his phone and continue the call.

"Yeah, from the wharf to the train yard," Rafe continues, his voice fading as he heads downstairs. You remain in the room, sinking back into the armchair and scrolling through your phone, trying to distract yourself.

Suddenly, another creak catches your attention, making you whip your head around. You find yourself face to face with Sarah, her eyes wide with panic. "Sarah..." you gasp, your eyes widening slightly as you take in her distressed appearance. Realization hitting you that she must have overheard the conversation.

"You shouldn't be here. Rafe will go crazy if he finds out you were here—" you begin, your voice urgent. But before you can finish, Sarah lunges forward, grabbing a lamp from the side table and hurling it towards you. Instinctively, you dodge to the side, the lamp crashing against the wall behind you as Sarah bolts from the room.

Heart pounding, you scramble to your feet and chase after her, calling out, "Sarah!" The urgency in your voice is palpable as you race down the stairs, desperately trying to catch up to her before Rafe sees her.

"Sarah!" you call out, your voice echoing through the hallway as you quickly follow her downstairs. Your heart races as you look around, but Rafe is nowhere to be found. Sarah dashes through the parlor, her footsteps quick and frantic, before she sprints out the front door.

You turn the corner sharply, only to collide with a solid form. The impact nearly knocks you off your feet. "Whoa—whoa, babe. What's wrong?" Rafe's concerned voice cuts through the chaos, his hands coming up to steady you, rubbing your arms in an attempt to calm you down.

"Sarah," you manage to gasp, your mind still reeling from the encounter. "What? What about her—" Rafe's eyebrows knit together in confusion, but you cut him off, the urgency clear in your voice. "Sarah was just here. She heard everything."

[aftertheleaving]

Not A Threat

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Reader

Genre: Light humor, fluff, slow-burn setup(kinda), soft enemies to lovers(again kinda), workplace antics

Warnings: swearing, caffeine abuse, reader is unbothered and slightly feral, Damian is suffering (but not really), no plot just vibes

Notes: for @ur-mums-house, who is my sleepy muse and deserves a fic where Damian gets emotionally steamrolled by a tech intern. Anyway I totallyyyy didn't find this while scrolling through all my drafts that I never posted (this is like from forevrrrrr ago when i told myself i'd start posting but never did). 🙃

1, 2, 3

You’re halfway through your fourth energy drink and at least eight hours into the worst debugging sprint of your life when you crack into a corrupted server cluster and find a file labeled:

"batcave_logs_alpha / GraySon_Phase02 / CodedAssets_v3"

Your first thought is:

Oh my god, they named a prototype ‘Grayson’? What is this, an anime?

Your second:

Cool. More dumb WayneTech documentation. Maybe I can finally go home.

So you click it.

And twenty seconds later, after bypassing a laughably weak encryption key (seriously, who still uses birthday codes?), you’re staring at a directory full of what are clearly mission logs. From vigilantes. Who operate out of a cave. With bats.

You lean back, sip your drink, and sigh.

“Well. That explains so much about this company.”

You don’t tell anyone—not because you’re scared, but because you’re underpaid, overworked, and Jenkins is still crashing. You simply do not have time for Batman’s extracurriculars.

Which is why, when you return from lunch the next day and find Damian Wayne himself waiting at your desk like a final boss, you groan out loud.

“You accessed a restricted directory,” he says flatly.

You drop into your seat. “Congrats. Want a cookie?”

He stares. “That information is classified.”

“So is the state of your backend infrastructure,” you reply, pulling up your terminal. “Your firewalls are like, held together with duct tape and prayer. You’re lucky I didn’t accidentally trigger a missile.”

He’s silent for a beat. You look at him, smirk creeping across your face.

“Oh wait,” you say, “I’m supposed to act shocked, right?”

You cup your hand around your mouth and whisper dramatically, “You know who.”

Damian visibly restrains the urge to walk into traffic.

“I’m not gonna tell anyone,” you assure him, typing lazily. “I’m too busy fixing Jenkins and wondering if I can make rice in a coffee pot. I have bigger problems.”

“…What is Jenkins?” he mutters.

“A CI tool,” you say. “It breaks. Constantly. Like you, apparently.”

He mutters something in Arabic that you think is an insult, but you’re too caffeinated to care.

“Besides,” you say, grinning, “You’re kinda short for a terrifying vigilante.”

“I am five-foot-five.”

“Sure”

A few days later…

You see him again, lurking in R&D like a disgruntled gargoyle.

You walk right up to him. “I have an idea.”

He immediately sighs. “No.”

You grin and hand him a rolled-up blueprint. “It’s a modular shock baton with thermal sensing and EMP shielding. Built it on my break. While eating a sandwich.”

He unrolls it and—you see the exact second he realizes it’s actually… good. Really good.

“This is—” he starts, then stops. Glares at you. “You should not be this capable.”

“Aw,” you say, patting his shoulder, “is that your way of saying thank you?”

“I said no such thing.”

“You did in spirit.”

“…Why are you like this?”

You smile, eyes glinting. “You’re fun to mess with.”

I think I’m actually dying. I was working on a Tim fic, minding my business, and then I got a comment from ur-mums-house and genuinely tweaked. Like. Fully spiraled. So then I went rummaging through the massive (for some reason??) collection of fics I’ve written and never posted, searching for anything Damian-related for ur-mums-house—and now here we are. Okay. Gonna go back to working on my Tim fic now. Bye bye 👋 .

[deonsx]

Hope i’m not too late to request 😭

but i’d love a sae fic where the reader is a very famous hollywood actress, and the content would just be her in japan with sae coming to that u20 meeting, coming to the match, cheering for him, being shown on the big screen while doing so, and fluffy moments in front of the paparazzi

and also how the crowd and especially how the u20 members would react to it all (sendou would be interesting since bro wants an actress gf so bad lol)

i’ve been binge reading your posts the whole day today and i just HAD to request 💕💕 thank you so much 🤭

hiii love!! You made it before the last hours, I loved this request have a good read (also the rq has already closed, thank you to my loves who sent requests still, but I haven't finished the ones in the event yet. I will be ready for a new event) AND THANK YOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS(｡◕‿◕｡✿)

Sae sat with the rest of the U-20 team during their pre-match briefing seemingly unbothered by the noise outside. But even his teammates couldn’t resist teasing him “Yo Sae care to explain why she is wearing your jersey” Sendou smirked nudging Sae’s arm “You���re dating her right You have to be. There’s no way she’d just show up for no reason”

Sae shot him a bored look “Focus on the game”

“But-”

“Shut up” Sendou groaned but didn’t stop staring at the monitors where the VIP section was being shown live “Man I swear if I had an actress girlfriend I’d retire from football right now. Goals achieved”

“Good thing you don’t” Sae replied flatly but his lips quirked up ever so slightly. The match began and the tension was palpable. Every time Sae got the ball the crowd roared but the cameras inevitably panned to you. You clapped enthusiastically leaning forward in your seat and when Sae’s shot curved perfectly into the net you jumped to your feet cheering louder than anyone else

The stadium erupted. Fans screamed his name but all Sae could hear even amidst the chaos was the faint echo of your voice. He looked up at the stands and found you beaming hands clasped in excitement. He allowed himself a brief glance just long enough for Sendou to notice

“Did you just smile at her” Sendou asked incredulously running beside Sae as they moved back into formation “Play the game” Sae said but there was a rare softness in his tone

The game ended with a U-20 victory. Sae dominated the field but the post-match buzz wasn’t just about his performance. The cameras couldn’t get enough of you rushing down to meet him at the sidelines. You threw your arms around him unbothered by the press or the dozens of lenses capturing the moment

“You were amazing” you said voice slightly breathless. Sae let you hug him one hand resting casually on your back “You’re loud you know that”

“You like it” you teased pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. The photographers captured every second your bright smile his subtle but unmistakable fondness. Fans online exploded with reactions some gushing about your chemistry others lamenting how “unfair” it was that Sae got the girl of their dreams

Back in the locker room the teasing was relentless “I can’t believe it” Sendou groaned throwing his towel to the floor “She was hugging you Sae. Hugging you. Meanwhile I can’t even get a text back”

“You’re embarrassing yourself” Sae replied tying his shoelaces “I don’t care. Introduce me. Tell her I’m funny” Sae stood slinging his bag over his shoulder “She’s not interested in idiots” The entire team burst into laughter as Sendou collapsed dramatically onto the bench

Later that evening Sae and you managed to slip away from the chaos and grab a quiet dinner. The restaurant was discreet but a few paparazzi still lingered outside “You’re the talk of Japan right now” you teased swirling your drink “How does it feel to be the center of attention”

He leaned back in his chair the corner of his mouth lifting slightly “I could ask you the same thing” You laughed leaning across the table “Oh please. You’re the real star today. I was just a very enthusiastic fan”

“Too enthusiastic” he muttered though his tone lacked any real annoyance “You didn’t seem to mind when I was screaming your name” Sae’s gaze lingered on you for a moment soft and unguarded “Maybe I didn’t”

Enjoy!

[mysterymachine67]

I have a request if that's alright.

Bottom Steve Rogers x Top Male Reader.

Male Reader is a new avenger who's in love with Steve, he thinks Steve doesn't like him until one day at the avengers gym (only the 2 of them are in the gym) Steve notices reader staring at America's ass and decided enough is enough so he decides to tease him using his greatest ASSet, then they have sex bottom Steve.

Can you make this one long, I love your fics I just wish they were always longer.

Pairing: Steve Rodgers x Top M!reader

NSFW. Minors DNI.

Here you go. So sorry this came out late and if it’s out of character 🙏🏻

The first few days went by smoothly. You got everything that needed to be done, done. There were a few…difficulties, but you got through them. All that mattered was that you were learning things that needed to be learned, and that you were doing great. Back to the ‘difficulties’. That consisted of love at first sight. Which you never believed in but once you met this man you couldn’t help it. He was perfect, perfect in so many damn ways you couldn’t explain.

But you couldn’t talk to him. Well, couldn’t get yourself to talk to him. You think he doesn’t like you, nor wants to do anything involving you. Why do you think this? There is no ‘main’ reason to it. Only that whenever you’re around him you swear you can feel some type of hatred toward you. So you leave him alone—minding your own business. And your sure as hell he noticed how distant you were from him.

—

Currently, you’re at the gym. You’re focused on yourself—the weights you’re lifting, and how many more lifts you need to do. You were the only one there and you enjoyed it. But that only lasted a few more minutes before the guy you have a little crush on walked through the doors. Steve Rodgers. The man who you swear on everything hates you. You swallowed as your face twisted with slight irritation. The look you gave him was with pure…jealousy? You’re not to sure what the correct word for it was, but all you knew was that it annoyed you how in love you were. You brushed it off—taking your gaze away from him and regaining back your focus.

Yet, every few minutes you found yourself stealing another look. You couldn’t help it, you practically admired him. You fought to draw your eyes away from him. It only got worse. Your gaze went lower, and lower, and lower till it got to his ass. See, now, you were a respectful man. You were not a creep, nor anything under that category. It was just accidental.

But it kept fucking happening. You’d look over at him when he wasn’t facing you—watching how he handled the gym equipment. Then your gaze would shift, but only for a moment. Not that it made it any better. He did eventually end up catching you. You forgot to look away quickly once he turned back around and you both made eye contact. And you thought he must’ve brushed it off. Hopefully, and not think you’re a creep because that’s the last thing you need to be represented as. But no. Steve did not brush it off, nor let it slide.

You noticed how he started to do more things involving his ass, and how he somehow got closer to you. Hell, he even asked you to help him with something. In which you put your self-control to use. His ass brushed against your front when he moved. You didn’t know what to do; so you kept your hands at a reasonable position and helped him with what he needed to be helped with.

What were you helping him with? That’s a good question. Well, it was a type of workout you’d never heard nor seen before. Was he doing this on purpose? Most definitely. Were you aware? Not so much.

This continued for a lot longer than you thought it would. Not that you…minded, but you’d think it’d be a few minutes tops. Nope. Things…escalated. And by escalated he finally confronted you—getting out of whatever position he had you guys in, and asking so many damn questions about you and why you were so distant. You answered. It’d be disrespectful and rude if you didn’t.

“Can I ask you a question?” Steve asked.

“You’ve asked plenty so far. But hit me.” You answered.

“Do you like me?”

Well shit.

You cleared your throat. Adjusting your clothes and rubbing the back of your neck. “If…I say yes?” You stammered. You’re not even sure he heard you. But then Steve spoke up.

“Then,” He started, locking eyes with you. You nearly looked away, nervous for what’s to come. Did you just fuck up? “We can call it a day. Go hang out, or do something cheesy. How’s that sound?” He offered.

Oh.

Well, except doing any of those things listed. On the way out of the gym Steve mentioned something very suggestive. In which you turned around, dropped your things and made your way to him. Obviously agreeing with what he said.

—

Your hands gripped his ass while crashing your lips against his. It hurt from how hard you did it, but it soon faded away once you heard a sweet sound from the man you’ve liked since the day you met him. The both of you moved toward a nearby wall. When you got close enough you pushed Steve against it; hearing a faint noise come from him. Maybe you pushed him a little too hard. Your lips touched his again while your hands roamed his body. This time, the kiss was more sloppy than the last.

You pulled back and whispered against his lips. “I don’t think you get how much I’ve wanted this. Wanted you.” And oh, the way he looked at you. You kissed him again before he could even respond.

Soon enough you were helping each other take off clothes. They were being thrown somewhere in the gym, a future problem. As soon as Steve got his shirt off your hands were on him yet again. Gripping his flesh and kissing where you could. Steve’s quiet whimpered and soft moans were one of many things that kept you from stopping. His hands stayed on your hips, gripping you tightly and keeping you close. When your lips met his neck he let out a gasp. It got even better when your hand trailed down Steve’s chest. All the way to his hard cock.

You fished his cock from his boxers. Then brought your hand back up to his mouth. “Spit.” You said simply. So he did.

When you finally wrapped your hand around his cock he let out a sigh. Leaning his head back against the wall. He bucked his hips into your hand—seeking more. With the mix of your mouth on him, and your hand on his cock, he was starting to get close. A moan fell from Steve’s lips. A hand of his moving its way up to your shoulder.

“Fuck..’m close.” Steve muttered, sucking in a breath once he felt your thumb rub at his tip. Just a few more thrusts into your hand and he’ll—

“Sorry, pretty boy. But we’re just getting started.” You say, as you remove your hand. Hearing as he let out a groan.

—

You slowly aligned your cock with his hole. Hearing a soft groan and a thud of his head going back against the wall. You cursed under your breath, feeling the tightness of his heat around your cock. Once you were bottomed out you stayed still for a moment. Giving Steve a moment. Well, that was until he urged you on. You had one of his legs on your hip, it helped made your cock dive deeper into him.

You pulled out slowly, watching as his face scrunched up. Before shoving your cock back inside, you gripped his leg tighter. Soon, you started a good pace and rhythm. Steve let out a few small whimpers and moans. You leaned in close, capturing his lips in a kiss. Meanwhile, your free hand started to move to his cock. Wrapping around it and started to stroke. The added pleasure and stimulation caused him to moan into your mouth. In which you tried not to smile. You soon broke the kiss, moving to kiss neck instead.

“Oh, God!” He moaned. Moving his head back against the wall with a thud. Many sounds echoed throughout the gym. Pants, moans, groans, whimpers, etc. all coming from the both of you.

Your orgasm came quick, Steve’s too. Just as you went to pull out he clenched and groan from the loss.

“No, no, just—inside.”

So you shoved your cock back in. Hearing a moan in response to your action. Not that you were complaining. Soon enough you came, painting his walls white while he coated your hand in his own cum. A mix of moans and pants echoed in the gym. But he felt so good, so you kept going even though your hips stuttered. You worked yourself up to a second orgasm in a matter of minutes. Completely ignoring Steve’s whines. But he enjoyed it. A little pain mixed with pleasure is something he didn’t know he’d be into. Your hips came to a halt—not pulling out and staying buried inside of him.

But you put your hand back on his cock and started to jerk him off again. You weren’t gonna let him cum only once. That wasn’t fair. Back to Steve, he groaned then soon let out a whine. Jerking his hips back but then moving them back forward. You heard him curse under his breath before, without a warning, cumming into your hand.

Both of you were breathing heavily. Chest raising and falling with how heavy you were breathing. Once your breathing went back to normal you finally spoke up. “So, you don’t hate me?” You asked. Such a random question after just getting done fucking him.

“Why the hell would I hate you?” Steve replied, stilling trying to get his breathing regular. In which you shrugged, a conversation for a different time.

[imdoingsortagay]

And They Were Roommates

Summary: Rio get's a roommate in you and suddenly she can't function.

Warnings: Smut so 18+ , Rio doing suspicious shit, Top!Rio Vidal, Bottom!reader, pet names with this women, biting, some fluff, aftercare ( because it's important),

Word count: 3.4k

a/n: i was gonna spend a good week on this fic fuck it you get it now because my professors are already on midterm talk. also thank @yourlocalsaiko for the funny ask comment they left on the sneak peek of this for influencing me to finish this. And also happy birthday to @harknessdoll. If this does good maybe a part 2 or little series ????? who knows

Happy reading

Renting a small cottage in the middle of the woods, well not middle maybe like 10 miles away from town seemed like a good idea at the time. No having to deal with noisy neighbors, having a cute little driveway to not share with anyone and not to mention not being woken up to traffic. 

It sounded like the perfect thing until you heard a loud bang that woke you from your slumber, who in the fuck was in your cottage. 

“ Fucking hell,” you mumble to yourself. Good thing Kate had recommended buying that bat incase anyone came in, bedtime you do need to actually buy a weapon of some sort or at least invest in some security. The noise gets louder as you make your way to the kitchen, hear what seems to be a lady humming a tune while she’s looking for something to eat in the fridge. 

“ You leave for a couple of years to explore and someone can think they can just move in ? In my cottage? In my home?” She mumbles to herself. 

“ IM RENTING THIS PLACE YOU ASS” you yell as you try to hit her but her reflexes are faster than you. The lady quickly grabs the bat from you, throwing it somewhere in the kitchen but what she doesn’t expect you to do is bite her back. 

“ OWWWWWWWWWWW” 

Your smile fades quickly when the intruder quickly pins you to the kitchen floor preventing you from moving or biting her again. 

“ Who the fuck are you and why are you even in my house” She asks you

“ Someone posted this place on a realtor site to rent and he’s been renting it to me for the past 6 months,” you explain,” can you let me go now, I promise not to bite you again I swear”. 

“ Just cause I might have abandoned this place 40 years ago doesn’t mean some stupid man can come and rent it to some random person,” she tells you. 

“ Does this mean I need to find another place to live?” You say after a bit of silence which makes the woman giggle. She felt bad that you didn’t know this was her home but it had been years since she had shared her place with anyone besides her ex partner. 

“ If you give me whoever rented this place from you I might let you stay,” she pauses a bit ,” whatever your name is “. 

“ Y/n and no totally will do that, he kind of gave me the ick when he was showing me places too. Like he recommended me this house in New Jersey but the vibe was off so I said no then he was flirting with me way too-“ the mystery woman covers your mouth to prevent you from yapping anymore.

“ Gonna visit this man right away in the morning y/n, he sounds terrible,” and she leaves you to head to the other bedroom,”

“ Wait what’s your name ?” 

“ Rio,” she pauses dramatically ,” Rio Vidal, have a goodnight babe”. 

________________________

After the weird encounter with Rio, she had left around 9am to go talk with Anthony the realtor, not telling you anything else besides a bye. Left you with the cottage for most of the day to finish some emails for work, clean up the mess from late in the night and even make a chicken soup for Rio, or at least for you if she didn’t eat meat. Just as a thank you for not kicking her. 

“ Get Norm the email about next month’s projection sales,” you read around to nobody inside, wondering when she’d come back. 

She’s a grown ass woman who looks like she can easily defend herself. There’s no need to worry where she might be going. Rio has known you for less than half a day I doubt she’s gonna tell you her whereabouts. 

“ God that man is such a crybaby,” Rio announces as you hear the door open, pushing the relief away when she comes towards the kitchen to the smell of chicken soup. It smelled really good, she forgot how it was to not be the only person in this home or at least have someone even cooking at all. 

Rio sees you in the kitchen, trying your very best to act chill around. 

“ Here’s this back, I took care of Bob for you, “ she casually tells you as she goes towards the stove to serve herself some soup. 

“ What do you mean ‘ take care of bob ‘ Rio? “ 

“ Don’t worry about it babe” and when you look in the bad you find a large amount of money. 

“ All your rent money from the past couple of months from that fucking idiot” rio explains , you were gonna ask either way. 

“ so does this mean you’re kicking me out ? I can pay rent don’t worry or if not I can try to find another place to move to since this is your house and all”. 

Rio thinks about it. On one hand , she’s had this house for hundreds of years so there’s no need for you to pay rent. But on the other hand, you really didn’t know that this was her house so it would be rude to expect you to leave so soon. 

You were a little cute after all so this could work in her way if she wanted. 

“ I’ll let you stay on one condition,” you nod, too afraid to say anything due to her very serious demeanor. 

“ Keep doing what you’ve been doing around the place, don’t disturb me when I’m in my room and when I need a favor you do it,” she states. Should be simple enough for you to follow. 

“ You got it pretty ?” 

“ Yes “ 

“ Yes what ? “ 

“ Yes Ma’am?” You say more as a question than a statement. 

“ Good job honey” she coos, paying close attention to the way that you blushed a bit being called the pet name. 

————

“ What the fuck are you even doing up at 7am?” 

“ Good morning to you too princess,” she says as you walk into the kitchen, your slumber being interrupted by whatever she was doing inside. 8am was enough time for you to get ready for work, especially since you do remote work for the most part. 

It’s only been a day since Rio had let you stay and to stay the change was a bit weird for you was an understatement. 

Both of you have mostly been lightly joking with each other half of the time, maybe a bit of flirting to be honest but she’s pretty cute. Doesn’t help that she’s always calling you all these pet names. 

“ Breakfast is on the table babe,” you see a perfectly set plate on the table for you,” based on what you had stocked up in the fridge”.

“ Thank you Rio,”. 

“ No problem hot stuff” she says in the sweetest tone, leaving you alone in the kitchen to question what she might have planned.

———————

One week living with Rio and so far, she’s been wonderful as a roommate. Helps with dishes when you make dinner, keeps the living room spotless, a little loud at night but nothing you can’t handle. 

For a Saturday night, Rio was unsure why you decided to spend it at home and not out like most humans would do. 

“ Reading a book and enjoying some wine ? Boring “, Rio announces as she walks into the living room in her casual fit. Choosing to wear an oversized t shirt of hers and simple pair of shorts. 

“ It’s too far for me to go out rio,” you tell the woman sitting next to you, not bothering to tell her to move. It felt kind of nice to have the other woman sit next to you and not just a pillow of yours like most of the time. 

“ Awe someone as pretty as you doesn’t ever go out?” She coos. 

“ Not when it’s again, way too far to travel to a bar,” you repeat to her and before you can even get a sip of your wine she grabs it out of your hand. 

“ What the fuck ?” You yell back at her and before you can grab it back the woman in front of you chugs it. 

“ We need something stronger babe,” she tells you as she finishes the last of the drink with no shame,” follow me “. 

You don’t say anything when she grabs your hand, leading you to the one room in the cottage that she forbid you to going into, her room. 

Even before she had shown up back to her place, Bob had told you the room could not be unlocked and the windows were covered to anyone passing by and you felt weird about trying to unlock it yourself. When Rio had shown backup you never even got a peek at the inside of her room either so you were a bit excited to see what it was like. 

Was it just her room ? What colors did she choose? Is it decorated all nice or a bit of a mess ?  Did she have anyone in it before you were ? 

Wait, you guys are just roommates you can’t be thinking about that way about Rio at all. 

“ Close your eyes I can’t have you knowing how to open my room door can we princess???” She teases you. God you were not gonna survive this. 

A couple of seconds later you hear the door click open, Rio grabs your hand to lead you into her room and moves you a bit so you can stand in the middle of it. 

“ Open those pretty eyes for me,” you give yourself a couple of seconds to adjust to the light in the room to see the woman. Of course the wall are in her signature green color, a nice dark green to compliment the rest of the room. Paintings you assumed she made herself in the spare time, a mini fridge with what you assumed is where the alcohol she was talking about and a nice queen sized bed in the middle of the room.

“ Your’re the first person that I’ve had in here since my ex by the way y/n,” she starts off, pointing at the bed for you to sit in,” Your room was a guest room we’d use for our friends and this was our room. “ 

“ What happened to your ex ? “ you as casually and Rio makes a face at your question. 

“ Wait fuck I didn’t meant to intrude I am so-“ 

“ Baby it’s all good with me,” she assures you,” we broke up after ten years together because she wanted to explore other option in the world or whatever she fucking meant by that”. Least you know she’s single. 

“ Last time I heard about her, she was living in some town with her current girlfriend and their two cats. Which good for her I guess, I mean she was never the committed type when we were together, all I say is good fucking luck to her current gal or whatever,” she mumbles the last part while looking for a specific alcohol bottle for the two of you. The atmosphere room was pleaseant, Rio must have worked a lot on the room to make it as comfy as she could. 

“ You have any ex’s you wanna talk about y/n ? We only know the basics things about each other” Rio questions after finding the specific bottle of alcohol she was hiding for special occasions. She quickly finds her way onto her bed, placing herself on the right side of where you were sitting, as always leaving no space between the two of you. 

“ How strong is that bottle of alcohol in your hand?” You ask and rio smiles. 

This was gonna be fun. 

_________________________

“ You did not fucking steal Lilia’s jewelry from her cause she accidentally stole some of your food ?” You laugh as she tells the story. 

“ She was being petty with me for a tiny thing I did when we were living together y/n, and all I did was just give her a piece of her medicine is all” she shrugs then takes a big swig of the bottle infant of you both. It had been three hours since Rio had let you in her room and the both of you were talking about whatever as a way to get to know each other. An hour into this hangout session or whatever you both want to call it, rio had suggested you both cuddle with each other and in your tipsy mind you decided why it. 

On the inside, Rio appeared to you as quiet, funny and a little bit mysterious if you had to be honest with yourself. What you didn’t know was that she had been internally been freaking out since she found you here in the cottage. She felt bad kicking you out but it had been a couple of years since she’s had anyone here since Agatha. Rio hadn’t had anyone in the house since then and even if she did for a one night stand, she’d use the guest room to do it and not her own bedroom, making up all sorts of excuses as to why she didn’t have anyone in her own bedroom when she knew the real reason. 

She was afraid. 

Agatha had been her first relationship all those years ago when they met in Salem, built this house together from the ground up, shared so many happy memories together here then decided she wanted to leave Rio because she wanted to do more than just stay in Salem. She was other that woman but her insecurities got the best of her and she hasn’t had a meaningful relationship since. 

“ I don’t know how that would could fucking leave you when you look so fucking hot,” you blurt out of nowhere which takes Rio out of her thoughts. Well, at least she knows that you feel the same way. 

“ You think I’m hot ? “ Rio asks quietly enough for you to hear. 

“ The mysterious demeanor of yours, the hot ass outfit you had when you got here, and not to mention when I first met you in not to good circumstances you kind of made me blush so much” you explain while rubbing her arm. Her mind was going places as you were cuddling up next to her, yapping about how hot she was and then casually rubbing her arm as well.

Both of you were drunk and she wanted to test the waters and see how much she can get out of you, no harming trying to get any information out of you. 

“ How about you come sit on top of me while we talk then princess? “ She asks with a bit of a smile. 

You don’t think about it too much, Rio guiding you on her lap so you don’t accidentally do anything. 

“ Rio did I ever tell you that you look super nice from this angle , like really nice,” you giggle. It’s been years since anyone has said anything nice about her and she’ stumped with how to respond.

“ Can say the same thing about you sweet thing ,” the woman under you says in the most cool way, only eliciting a giggle from you and a confused face from her. 

“ Did you forget to flirt Rio? for a witch who’s been alive longer than I have , you sure don’t know how to flirt with someone when the opportunity arises, “ you say in a joking manner to the older woman. 

“ I might not know how to flirt but there is something else I can do babe,” she teases. 

“ Oh and what’s that honey?” You ask in a sweet tone. 

In an instant, Rio quickly changes positions so that she’s on top of you, pinning your arms above your head so that you don’t do anything with your hands. 

“ You look super pretty under me princess,” she holds your chin in place with one hand while other hand is still pinning you into the mattress, not that you’re complaining or anything. 

“ Just fucking kiss me Vidal,” you beg and you feel the other woman’s lips on yours in an instant. She forgot how good it felt to be in bed with someone she actually had some sort of attraction to. She can’t handle the way that you whine into the kiss, wondering what other pretty noises she can get out of you. 

“ God do you know how many times I fucked myself in this bed baby? We’ve barely known each other but your’re something special baby,” she tells you as she starts to kiss your neck, no shame in leaving marks all over your neck for anyone to see. The sound of your moans and whines while she marks your neck, Rio feeling you grind into her body to set any sort of friction and the feeling of her hands roaming your body make you never want to leave her bed anytime soon. 

“ Take this thing off of your body baby,” she says helping you get up,” I wanna see all of you”. You chose the right night to not wear a bra because the moment she sees that you had nothing underneath your shirt, Rio is on your tits. Sucking on your left nipple while tasting your other nipple with no mercy. 

“ Be good for your mistress while I suck on these titties babe,” she orders,” then maybe I’ll fuck you with my fingers, or you can grind on my thigh so I can see you fall apart above me”. 

“ Fingers! Please! I’ll be good for your mistress” you whine under her touch, you would let Rio let you do anything to you if it meant being pleasured by her . 

“ Good choice baby,” She says happily, her right hands going into your sleep shorts to feel just how wet you were for her. 

Still got it, she thinks to herself.

“ I didn’t even do much to you baby and your pussy is soaked,” she smirks and you moan as she continues to tease you. It won’t take long for you to cum with Rio teasing your pussy combined with her dirty talk. Rio wastes no time in taking off your shorts and underwear before she inserts two fingers into your wet pussy, groaning at the way her fingers go in easily. 

“ Maybe next time we do this you can let Mistress eat this pussy,” she says and you let out a long moan,” god just the way your finger are taking me just makes me want to make you cum over and over again”. 

It doesn’t take long for you to go over the edge with her fingers going at a fast pace, Rio taking in the sight before her. Praising you as she helps you down from your high, no shame in tasting yourself on her fingers, excited for the text time she might actually be able to taste the real thing from the source. 

“Brain feels floaty Rio ,” you mumble to the other woman as she brings you a bottle of water and a small rag to clean you off. You take the bottle with no arguments as she cleans you up. Rio helps you up a bit to help you into your shirt again, internally giggling as how cute you look at her. Looking at her like she was the only person on earth. She felt happy to be seen like that from someone after years of being alone. 

“ How you doing baby?” She asks and you mumble as she pulls you closer to her body. 

“ Fine,” you yawn ,” sleepy”. 

“ Okay baby,” she chuckles,” We can talk tomorrow about us”. 

“ I’d love that Rio,” you say before you fall asleep in her arms and Rio falls asleep not long after with a big smile on her face.

[societyfolklore]

 Favour - Part 1

Title: Favour (Part 1 of 3) Pairing: ClubOwner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary:  When your boyfriend messes up with the wrong people he offers you up as free labour in Bucky Barnes Club.

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings:  / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, Smut (eventually) DubCon (squint), forced labour, Jerk boyfriend, swearing, threatening behaviour, eventual violence and blood.    

A/N: my entry for  @avengers-assemble-bingo  for Bucky 108th Bday event  Will be posting the whole fic over March (hopefully) Square: a1 – Clubowner AU Card Number: 4B003 The night air was thick with the scent of sweat, booze, and bad decisions. The Winter King wasn’t the kind of club where mistakes went unnoticed. It was a place where men like Bucky Barnes built empires and burned anyone who got in their way. And tonight, Brock Rumlow was about to learn that firsthand.

You barely had time to throw on fresh clothes before Brock was pulling you out the door. He had been pissed the second you got home- late because of the damn train delays- and even more pissed that you didn’t change fast enough.

“Told you to wear something nicer. Something more.” His fingers gestured vaguely at his own chest, scowling at the modest neckline of your top. *“*You know- show off the girls a little.”

You ignored him, just like you always did when he got like this. You were already exhausted from work, and now you were being dragged by the wrist into Winter King- the club Brock and his friends frequented- but no one explained to you why. Only that it had something to do with a 'favor' 

“Don’t say anything, alright?” Brock hissed under his breath as you approached the entrance. “Just stand there and look pretty.”

Your stomach churned. You weren’t stupid- you knew Brock was into some underhanded things. Once upon a time, that had been thrilling. You had liked the way he made your head spin, the rough stubble, the gruffness, the edge of something dangerous.

But now? Now he was just Brock. And you were starting to see through the cracks.

“These guys are a big deal,” Brock muttered as you neared the door, adjusting his jacket. “So just... let me talk, okay? Hopefully, I can get out of this mess.”

Your eyes narrowed. “What mess, Brock?”

He didn’t answer right away. The grip on your wrist tightened. “Just need more time.”

That was all the confirmation you needed.

Your stomach sank. You had been through this cycle before- Brock needed time, which meant Brock owed money.

“This got to do with that truck?” you whispered.

Brock’s jaw ticked. His fingers twitched at his side before his grip on your wrist tightened sharply, a silent warning. His eyes flicked toward the bouncers at the door, then back to you, voice dropping lower. “Shut up.” The words came out as a hiss, sharp and laced with frustration, but there was something else there, too- something uneasy. He didn’t want you talking, not just because he was annoyed, but because he was afraid of what you might say.

You yanked your wrist out of his grip, rubbing at the sore spot he left behind. “You always do this,” you muttered, voice sharp but quiet enough not to draw attention.

Brock shot you a glare. “Do what?”

“Get in over your head,” you snapped. “Drag me into it without telling me a damn thing.” Like the time you'd had to drain your savings to pay back a bookie. 

His face darkened. “Don’t start, alright? Not now.”

“Not now?” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “You didn’t tell me shit before we got here, Brock. You didn’t say anything about money, about owing someone like Barnes- ”

“I said shut up.” His voice was low, dangerous. It wasn’t the first time he’d spoken to you like that. But tonight, it cut deeper.

He was supposed to handle a job for Bucky- whether it was moving product, money laundering, or setting up a deal- but he botched it.

Worse? His failure cost Bucky money. A lot of it.

Now, he owes, and in Bucky’s world, debts always get paid.

Inside Bucky’s office, the tension was suffocating.

He took a few steps inside, rolling his shoulders like he was settling into familiar territory, but there was an edge to it- like he was waiting to see how Bucky would respond before pushing too far. His confidence wasn’t quite as effortless as he wanted it to be. "Gotta say, the place looks different when it's not packed wall-to-wall with people. You almost get to appreciate the decor."

Bucky didn’t respond. Didn’t even look up right away. He simply sat behind his desk, fingers drumming idly against his glass of whiskey, the weight of his silence stretching thick in the air.

Rumlow cleared his throat, shifting slightly. "Didn’t know you were gonna call me in so soon, Barnes Figured I had a little more time to- "

"Cut the bullshit," Bucky cut in, finally lifting his gaze. His voice was smooth as silk, but carried the weight of iron. "Now, where’s my fucking money?"

Rumlow barely sat down before the excuses started pouring out. "Look, I don’t know what to tell ya." He tried to sound charming, like he could talk his way out of this, but even you could hear the desperation lurking beneath it. "The intel was bad, alright? The cops showed up, I barely got outta there with half the shipment- "

Bucky exhaled sharply, amusement flickering across his face before it disappeared into something colder. He rolled the glass between his fingers, the ice clinking softly, before taking a slow sip. His other hand adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, movements unhurried, controlled- like a man who had already decided the outcome of this conversation before it even started. “Cops? Thought you were smarter than that, Rumlow.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “You still owe. You think I just give out extensions?”

Rumlow’s face twisted in frustration. “Come on, Barnes. I did you a favor, fronting up this little venture, I'm out too.”

Bucky’s fingers stopped drumming. The room grew eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made your skin prickle. Then, he let out a low chuckle. “Oh you're out of pocket..” he echoed. “I took a chance on you for this job. You said you could handle it, promised to deliver, and now I'm out of pocket and short inventory.”

Rumlow clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling under the surface. “My boys and I are good for this. But I can't control everything, Buck- ”

Bucky’s expression darkened instantly. “It’s still Barnes to you, Rumlow.”

Your stomach twisted as you shifted awkwardly in your seat. The neon glow of the club lights flickered against the dark mahogany of the office. You didn’t belong here.

You never did.

But when Brock told you he was in trouble, when he said he just needed 'a little favor,' you hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t expected to be brought here- to him.

Bucky Barnes wasn’t just a club owner. He was something else entirely. The kind of man that made people lower their voices when they spoke his name. The kind of man who didn’t need to raise his voice to make people listen. And right now, he was looking at you like he was deciding whether or not you were worth the effort.

Rumlow shifted in his seat, desperation oozing from him. “Look, I don’t have the money yet, you know I can get it sorted, I just need some time. But I got an offer. Help ease the sting a bit.”

Bucky arched a brow, not even trying to hide his boredom. “Enlighten me.”

Rumlow gestured to you.

“She can work for you- bartending, club floor, whatever you need. She’s not useless.”

Your head whipped around.

Was your boyfriend serious? You had a job- a copywriter at an advertising agency. Not this.

“She used to do this in college,” Rumlow continued, barely sparing you a glance. “She can pull her weight.”

The air in the room shifted.

For the first time, Bucky actually looked at you. Really looked at you. His gaze swept over your frame, slow and considering. Not in the way Rumlow did, not like you were something to be used and discarded. No, Bucky Barnes looked at you like he was measuring your worth.

A lazy smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re offering me your girl to pay off your debt?” he asked, amusement flickering through his tone. “That’s low. Even for you.”

You opened your mouth- to protest, to argue, to say something- but Rumlow beat you to it.

“She can handle herself,” he insisted. “It’s just bartending. You get free labor, she'll even hand over tips.”

Bucky hummed, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. He turned his attention back to you. “That true?” he asked. “You need a job?”

Your pulse pounded.

Before you could even open your mouth, Brock scoffed. "She’s got a day job. But a second job at night wouldn’t kill her."

Bucky's eyes flicked between you and Rumlow, lips curling, not quite amused, not quite impressed. His tone, when it came, was low and edged with something dangerous, a quiet warning wrapped in velvet. "You always let him talk for you, sweetheart? Or you got a voice of your own?"

Your jaw tightened. You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t want to owe anyone anything. But your options were slim to none, and you could feel Rumlow’s grip tightening on your wrist. A warning.

This wasn’t a question. Not really.

And yet, something about the way Bucky watched you made it impossible to lie.

“…I can work nights,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky exhaled a slow, knowing chuckle. Then, he leaned back in his seat, draping an arm over the back of the booth. “Alright,” he said. “You work for me now.”

Rumlow let out a relieved breath. “Good, so we got a deal- ”

Bucky’s gaze snapped back to him. “Oh no,” he corrected. “You still owe me. She just bought you a little more time.”

Rumlow’s nostrils flared, his grip tightening on you again, but Bucky’s tone was enough to shut him up.

“Careful,” Bucky murmured, watching the way Rumlow’s fingers dug into your skin. “You’re already in deep. Don’t make it worse.”

Rumlow hesitated, then released you, jaw clenched tight.

Your throat felt dry. "His mess is my mess," you murmured before you could stop yourself- your mother’s voice in your head, telling you to be loyal, even when it hurt.

You could still hear her words, crisp as the winter air back home. Family sticks together. Loyalty is everything. You don’t abandon the people you love, even when they make mistakes.

But was this loyalty? Or just fear of what came next if you let go?

No, just too stupid to get out while you still could.

For the first time that night, you realized just how screwed you really were.

[t-a-a-1]

Optimus X Reader Drabbles that I wrote but they never made it to become full on fics ... so here they are, super short but I hope y'all enjoy them!

Drabble 1: Lipgloss

Summary: You wear lipgloss and a very curious Prime asks you about it.

.

He looks at you and wonders how it is possible for him to feel this way. 

He is a sinner. In all senses of the word. Primus may never forgive him. He may never forgive himself. 

It was during a cold night of may when you had changed the style of your hair. Putting it in a hair-tie. Wearing work-clothes from that same day. A skirt that went under your knees and a white long-sleeve button up shirt. Your makeup, a bit smudge and yet Optimus was curious.

“What is that?”

He points at your lips,  his blue optics wide and full of curiosity.

“What?”

You look up from your workstation, smiling at him. 

“That red paint in your intake.”

“Oh, it's lipgloss!”

You immediately search in your bag and pull out a small tube. Putting it in front of him, he gets closer to inspect it. 

“Does this liquid you use contain technology that makes you more … appealing to other species?”

Tilting your head, you proceeded to ask another question. 

“...What do you mean?”

“I can’t phantom another reason as to why I have the urge to interface with you,” Optimus quickly replies, now his optics entirely lay on you. “I urge you to please take it off.”

You stare at him for a few seconds and so does he. It wasn’t until he realized what he had said that he felt his faceplate get hotter and you could swear you saw some blue as well. 

“My apologies, I will be taking my leave.”

And before you could say a word, he quickly transforms and drives away. Not knowing how to face you.

...........

Drabble 2: The Date

Summary: You go on a date and Optimus doesn’t take it well. Optimus and Reader’s love story as told and described by Ratchet. 

.

Ratchet has taken notice of Optimus' sudden change. 

A couple of days ago, he found the leader polishing his paint.

He has been going on patrol duty more often. 

Talks nervously when he is around a certain someone. 

Staring at that same person with longing optics. 

All because of a human woman who didn’t even dare to look at him twice. 

And yet all Optimus could do was to look at you, hoping that you could read his mind and see how much he suffers.

“I am going on a date.”

It's a human concept Ratchet didn’t understand and by the look of Optimus’ face, he didn’t understand it either. 

“What is a date?”

“It's like spending time with a person to see if they are a potential partner.”

“Partner?”

You thought for a few seconds, thinking of a simple way to explain things.

“Like a romantic partner! In your terms, kinda like a sparkmate?”

“Oh,” his spark stops for a klik. He tries to smile but asking the following question hurts. “So this date … It's for you to know if this person is worthy of being your life-partner?”

“Yes, kind of.”

“I see,” his servo turns into a fist. His processor begged him to stop you. To declare his everlasting love for you. It pains him, your absence, your carelessness and his unrequited love for you. 

Ratchet didn’t even dare to look at Optimus, knowing he would find a scene he wouldn't like. Because Optimus can handle all the pain in the universe by himself … but he can’t talk about you without his voice glitching. His love has been suppressed for so long that he has become pathetic. 

Ratchet noticed this during that one time you became the subject of conversation between the Autobots. Prime had showered you with praise and compliments, getting carried away, almost whispering your name as if sacred and in his excitement, he almost cried. 

“Well, I wish you luck on this date.”

“Thank you!” you say, sending him a goodbye kiss, unaware of what you have just done. “I’ll get going now, see ya!”

The only thing Ratchet could think of was about how Optimus would probably ask him to help him excavate his resting place. 

...............

That's it! As you see the writing in this is bad so sorry about that lol.

Should I make full one-shot fics out of any of these two stories? I kinda liked writing down band Optimus in Ratchet's POV. I think I had a draft of down bad Ratchet for reader also told in Optimus' POV.

Oh well.

Until next time!

[vinelark]

a treatise on pangs

i’m currently putting together a rec list for someone who requested pangy tim fics, and i kept adding side notes to explain/break down the pangs and eventually decided to just put all that to a separate post. so! for anyone who might at all be interested, this is my extremely informal, not-at-all academic essay about what pangs are to me, what i tend to seek out as a reader, and what works for me when i’m trying to craft them in my own writing.

“pang” is a phrase that has become a regular part of my vocab for the last…ten years, now, wow. it’s not always easy for me to explain, but it has helped me articulate this specific thing i enjoy and actively seek out in media: i like characters who are pangy. i like plots and tropes that deliver pangs. i want to feel the physical chest-aching, stomach-dropping sensation that comes from a specific kind of misunderstanding + hurt/comfort setup, and if something doesn’t deliver that for me, that’s fine! i will go fill in the blanks in my own head as i fall asleep for days on end. no big. i think about this an average amount probably.

like haha it’s just a hobby for me i swear—

anyway. obviously this is the ideal bait to lure me into a box trap. so what exactly am i talking about? how do they function in a story? and what actually makes a pang a pang?

anatomy of a pang

i said earlier it’s a kind of misunderstanding + hurt/comfort setup; i think that’s a good way to sum it up. angst is in there, some form of isolation (whether literal or something the character feels internally) is in there, a crucial reveal is in there, and, most importantly, the hurt part of hurt/comfort is emotional and specific to the pangy character.

when i say specific, i mean that it doesn’t just happen to a specific character, but that it is a kind of hurt that digs into that character’s history/situation/personality in a specific way. “pangy” simply indicates the presence of something—it’s not a qualitative measure on how good or angsty a story or trope is. there’s plenty of (excellent) angst and hurt/comfort out there that isn’t necessarily pangy; a MCD story about grief could be deliciously angsty but not very pangy, and a sickfic could deliver great hurt/comfort without a pang in sight. that said, a sickfic could also be a fantastic premise for pangs—it just depends on the approach.

to contrast, two different sickfic scenarios:

we’re in a [throws dart at a board] sci fi story about a crew on a spaceship. one crewmember (for consistency with the next section we’ll call them crewmember B) is new to the ship and doesn’t know everyone very well yet. they’re also a workaholic, trying to prove themself, and eventually they get sick and try to push through. the other crewmembers notice and intervene, forcing crewmember B to take a break and allow the crew help them. sickness ensues, comfort ensues, bonding ensues. this is a sickfic with full throttle hurt/comfort, but very little pangs.

previous scenario, pang edition:

character B is new to the ship, and the other crew members deliberately keep their distance—maybe they think crewmember B is off-putting, or stuck up, or connected to the organization that appointed them to the ship and therefore reporting back on the crew’s activities/merit. meanwhile, crewmember B—who is painfully aware that they’re an outsider and that they come off as stuck up when focusing, but hasn’t been successful at fixing it—is running themself ragged. they know that if the project they specifically were sent to implement fails, the whole crew will likely be dismissed. when they fall sick and try to keep working anyway, the rest of the crew finds out why and it shifts their understanding of crewmember B and crewmember B’s motives/actions. the others help crewmember B rest and also pitch in to do their work, and when crewmember B recovers they have tentative new friendships on board.

both are sickfic and hurt/comfort; scenario 2 just goes the direction of pangs, because the angst and the shift in behavior from other characters is rooted in a misunderstanding (and subsequent reveal) related to character B’s hurt.

life cycle of a pang

there are plenty of ways to achieve a pang—and plenty i’m still discovering! one of my little joys in life!—but in general when i see them or try to conceive of them, they follow a similar broad pattern:

character A fundamentally misunderstands circumstances/history of character B ➡️

A views B’s actions through the lens of that misunderstanding ➡️

A does or says something hurtful (intentional or not) fueled by their perception of B’s actions (almost always the “something hurtful” ends up hitting one of B’s deepest insecurities) ➡️

B (not knowing about the misunderstanding) internalizes this and is hurt by it. ideally the hurt and misunderstanding lasts long enough for us to really unpack it before a resolution; how long this is depends on the kind of story. ➡️

pang aftermath/resolution necessarily involves A later learning—ideally in some horrible way for both of them—the real circumstances/context for B, and we get to see them reorient their understanding of B’s character. and then, hopefully, fixing the relationship.

off-the-cuff example:

a story set in the early days of young justice, where the team feel judged/called out by robin’s constant critique/feedback/controlling tendencies. without much context for robin (or tim) they interpret this as robin thinking he’s better than them and not trusting them. they react accordingly, and at least once they snap at robin or, perhaps, complain about him where robin overhears. like: “god, robin is so annoying. can’t he leave us alone for one day?” “i still can’t believe he handed out actual printed reports on all of our weaknesses. no wonder none of us want to be his friend.”

meanwhile, yes, tim IS annoying (❤️) but it’s how he shows he cares—it’s out of genuine concern/commitment to his team, and he deeply wants to be their friend. he hears (or overhears) these reactions from his team, and internalizes it as: they don’t like me. i continue to be unlikable. i will stop trying to be their friend but i will continue to try to keep them alive in the field. he changes his behavior to being totally professional with them and not hanging out after training/missions, which they start to notice. eventually a mission goes sideways, they’re bailed out by the justice league, and then…nothing happens? they’re allowed to carry on, just with a few extra safety lectures? and then cassie and anita somehow find out that robin—despite his broken arm from the mission—faced down batman and the league by himself to defend everyone on the team. that it was his plan, so he takes the blame. and he also reported: they’re professional. they’re good. they don’t even like me, and they made sure i got out. and, well, hearing it put that way…they all start viewing robin in a bit of a different light, which leads to them becoming actual friends.

character B doesn’t need to be a perfect, innocent victim of circumstance to be pangy—in fact, rooting their insecurities to their flaws or quirks can make it way more compelling. pangs are great when they draw from and also feed back into other things characters struggle with, both with themselves and with other people. character B can lash out or change behavior due to their hurt in a way that hurts others and furthers the misunderstanding, and the pangs will still land.

also, character A and character B can both be pangy in the same story! there can be concurrent pang threads woven together. character B can misunderstand character A right back; their insecurities and communication styles can contrast delightfully (for me, at least) to achieve multidirectional pangs.

bonus points/subgenres/embellishments:

beyond the basic structure, here are some of my fav flavors of pang:

they cared the whole time: character B desperately likes/looks up to A (especially if it’s from the beginning), and A is unaware of this. for romantic relationships, this would lend itself to “B fell first, A fell harder” stories, and one-sided enemies-to-lovers plots. similar setups work for platonic relationships to achieve equally potent pangs.

example: almost any story in which early robin!tim is struggling to find his place, and bruce holds him at a distance—and tim is painfully aware of that distance, and internalizes it as him failing to measure up in some way.

loneliness my beloved: character B is very isolated with no support system (or does not think there is a support system available to them); likely A/others assume B does have a support system that isn’t there.

example: building on the previous example, at some point in those early robin days tim is getting bullied at school—pretty badly—and doing everything he can to avoid it escalating to his parents, because they’re on a trip. again. and in trying to handle it himself, tim finds out something about one of the bullies that connects their family to a shady business deal that, whoops, involves tim’s parents’ company too. bruce catches tim looking into this at the batcomputer, and to bruce it looks like tim is digging up dirt on his peers. when tim tries to explain the shady deal, bruce hears that tim is using his access to bat resources to, like, work for his parents’ benefit. he reprimands tim—bat resources are Not for personal matters—because to bruce, this reinforces his fears that he’s making a mistake taking on another robin, that things will only get messy and muddled and hurt more people. and obviously to tim, this reinforces his fear that he’s overstepping and fucking things up. so tim immediately drops it and goes off to try to deal with the whole thing on his own, and ends up getting even more hurt—at which point bruce does notice, and eventually gets the full story and intervenes on tim’s behalf, leading to real tentative trust between them.

gotta stay worthy: character B does think they are wanted, but only for a specific utility (a skill, a connection, sex, etc) and that it has strict limits/an expiration date.

example: in a timeline where kon is “on his own” (tied up with media/various entities using him for their own benefit) for a few more years (therefore also probably a timeline where superman stays dead or out of the picture longer—not forever! just longer), kon doesn’t start teaming up with robin until they’re older. the two also start to hook up, and kon—based on past experience—knows what people tend to want from him and how they’re never interested in anything but the persona he puts on. and sex. basically he knows people want to have sex with superboy, not have a relationship with kon. kon acts accordingly, keeping things “cool” and “casual” even if he really wants more, and takes any indication that robin is frustrated or upset with him as further proof that kon won’t get to keep what little of this he has if he doesn’t stay cool and fun and, well, available at all times. (meanwhile tim is battling an extremely inconvenient crush and trying to figure out why superboy can’t seem to take anything seriously. eventually tim learns more about kon’s past “relationships” and what kon expected tim to expect from him.)

the lesser evil: character B is somehow under control/under the thumb of someone and has to act a certain way in order to achieve their goals/ensure someone’s safety; A does not know this.

example: a concept where tim is undercover in an enemy court/company and encounters kon, a science experiment/captive (whatever the au genre calls for). tim can’t just break them out and run, and so for his and kon’s safety has to play along for a while, and kon sees him as another enemy at first. (this concept is a great setup for kon pangs too.)

back to the beginning, but worse now: at some point in the plot, character B is temporarily happy/has gotten what they want only for the misunderstanding/insecurity to be reintroduced/reinforced and the temporary happiness ruined (likely in a way that’s humiliating for character B).

example: the end of bbts chapter 4 😎

all of these pang flavors can coexist/feed into each other, too, depending on the plot.

the environment of a pang

like with any fic/au/concept, it’s not as simple as taking characters and dropping them into random tropes/plots. the best pangs unfold naturally from the characters themselves—their specific insecurities, their flaws and preconceptions that would lend to the kind of shifting understanding of both themselves and other characters that come from the misconception ➡️ misunderstanding ➡️ understanding arc. tim is a great character for a lot of these pangs because he does struggle with self-worth and high expectations, he has been shown to isolate/take on too much before seeking help for himself (and also has shown to lead teams and build support systems for others, so we can map an arc that ends with him doing that for himself), he cares deeply about others without always expecting the same in return, he’ll put himself in danger to achieve his goals/pull self-sacrificial gambits, and so on. any pang setup would build out from traits already inherent in whatever character you’re writing.

the same goes for the other character(s)—they should have a good reason for misunderstanding/disliking/dismissing character B at first, something that is natural to their history/personality and to the story plot. if it’s early in tim’s robin days, you could draw on bruce’s grief if you want him to be distant/dismissive of tim. if it’s a setup where tim meets the bats early, you could very conceivably have jason dislike tim off the bat (ha) because jason assumes tim will judge his background and jason therefore overcompensates in his defensiveness. any early meeting of tim and kon could easily lean into kon’s pride and the (understandable but giant) chip on his shoulder to make him chafe at tim’s intensity. (that script can be easily flipped for kon pangs, with tim fully misunderstanding kon’s brash confidence and assuming a lack of care.) all this to say, a good setup considers all characters involved for maximum pangtential.

the purpose of a pang

a good pang achieves a few things: a dissection of a character’s vulnerabilities, some excellent and character-driven angst, and direct catharsis from the resolution of that angst. (and to be clear, there can be pangs without catharsis—i just love the fully realized potential of ones that do come with a resolution.) there seem to be endless wells of pangs for my favorite characters—which i recognize is probably not a coincidence—and while i haven’t always been able to articulate what it is i like about these characters being put in Situations where they suffer so specifically, it is something that consistently brings me joy. and i know i’m not at all alone in this, and it’s very likely someone has already articulated this concept way better than i have. i hope this attempt made some amount of sense. and mostly, i hope everyone who also likes pangs keeps finding and creating them as much as they want.

(seriously, to the creating part—i want to read them. i want to read them all.)

[temporarywelcome]

A Bit of Lunch and Thievery - Spencer Reid

REQUESTED!

The Request: HI! I have a request: What if, kleptomaniac!reader has lunch with spencer at the BAU and keeps yapping loudly about her interests (or her job) and she keeps like taking things from his desk and he keeps slapping her hand away (perchance cameo of some amused BAU members?) -anonymous

CW: light swearing, a suggestive comment, klepto!reader, technically part of my "Smooth Criminal" series but each part can be read as standalone

AN: sorry I was gone for so long lmao lacrosse, school, and depression is rough. also does anyone else struggle writing fics when they're down bad for someone? anywayyyy-

_______

Words: 1.3k

It was a normal day at the BAU office. 

Well, obviously not a normal day considering they were even at the office and not on a jet across the country. The BAU was having a mysteriously mundane day full of filling out and organizing paperwork, so normal and boring that it was almost odd to them.

Of course, the peace had to end eventually. 

Spencer Reid’s phone rang, and he was fishing it out of his pocket immediately. The ringtone for this contact was different from the default ringtone that came with the device, different from the ringtone literally every other contact had. She had took the time to download the ringtone herself, stating he should always know when she was calling him because she was oh-so important.

Well, to him, she was. 

“Hello?” he said simply, leaning back in his chair. He could see Prentiss seated at her desk, JJ standing over her with a coffee complaining about some over-the-top thing her son, Henry, had done the night prior. 

“Hey, babe!” his girlfriend, Y/N, chirped on the other line. She was always so chipper, always so energetic. He was not. 

“You know I’m at work, right?” he deadpanned, though the corners of his lips curled ever so slightly. He could never be stone-faced when talking to her. 

She was used to his dry tone, not acknowledging it, “Why, yes, I do. Now let me in, I brought you lunch,”

Instantly, his eyes brightened, “Wait, you’re outside right now?”

“Mhm. Now let me in before the food gets cold.” 

Within the next six minutes and seventeen seconds, Spencer was back at his desk, but this time, with his lovely girlfriend seated next to him. He quietly ate the Spanish food she had bought as she spoke about her day. It was only 1 p.m., and he was sure she woke up extremely late, but, not to his surprise, she had a lot to say. A lot to say, despite the fact her day consisted of waking up and driving to get Spanish food and visiting him. 

“...yeah, I think we should get a dog,” Y/N said after explaining her run-in with a woman and her large doberman. Being herself, upon seeing the doberman running dead at her, instead of running away, Y/N had opened up her arms excitedly to hug the beast. 

She was lucky it was a nice doberman. 

“A dog?” Spencer’s brows furrowed as he contemplated the idea, “I don’t know…” 

“Well why not?” she pouted, and, not to his surprise, snatched the stapler from his desk. 

“Because I’m barely home,” he replied, gripping her wrist (a reflex at this point), other hand plucking the stapler from her and placing it back where it was before. “You’d be the one taking care of it the most, and that’s not fair.”

“Hmph,” her eyes darted to the stapler again then back to her rice, “I wouldn’t mind,”

Her hand reached for the stapler again and he gently slapped it, not even acknowledging it. See, his beautiful, wonderful girlfriend had her issues. Main issue being her diagnosed kleptomania, a condition that gave her uncontrollable urges to steal objects, no matter how useless and unneeded. 

Like the stapler which she kept eyeing. 

Upon his team finding out about her and her condition, they were all incredibly iffy on her, except Garcia, who was the one who uncovered everything anyway. One by one, Y/N was able to get the approval of each teammate, even Rossi, who had disliked her the most. 

He still didn’t trust her very much, but the rest of the team found her antics quite amusing. 

“Yes you would,” he told her, taking a sip of his drink, “You’d be fine with it for the first month or so, but then you would start getting annoyed with me and telling me I should be helping you take care of our son or daughter or whatever you would like to call it,”

Y/N paused, knowing he was 100% correct. Especially about the son or daughter part. “I think I’m more of a boy mom,” 

“Ignoring the point, I see,”

“Shut up,” she grumbled. 

“Hey, Reid, good afternoon Reid’s girl,” Morgan greeted with his usual smirk, a decent-sized stack of papers in hand, “Food looks good,”

“It is,” Spencer confirmed. Morgan plopped the papers down onto the genius’ desk. “Did you know there are over one hundred, twenty thousand varieties of rice- Y/N,” he slapped a hand down onto the stack of papers as Y/N went to snatch it up. “No,” 

“Sorry,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“You are way too fun and entertaining to want to read those,” Morgan joked before deciding to leave back to his own desk. 

“Yeah…” she muttered, bringing her hand up to bite her thumb nail nervously, “Way too fun and enter….” she trailed off, Spencer picking up his pen in time before she could snag it. “Shit,” she placed her hands onto her lap, “Maybe I should go…”

“No no no,” Spencer took her hands into his own like he always did when she was getting her urges, “I’m happy you visited me. Stay a little longer,”

“I am a kleptomaniac in a federal building, this was a bad idea,” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, that’s what I’m here for,” he gave her hands a gentle squeeze, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll make sure you don’t leave with anything,”

“A klepto dating a federal agent is so ironic,” she chuckled humorlessly, “How do you deal with me?”

“I don’t deal with you, I don’t tolerate you,” he replied, “Because you’re my girlfriend and I love you. I’m simply with you, because of the fact I love you,” 

“Don’t talk to me like that, I’ll fuck you,” she huffed, pulling her hands away while blushing red. 

“You did not just say that at my place of work,” he gasped, now blushing as well. He swiftly looked around to see if any of his coworkers were listening. He was sure every single one of them were, considering how nosy they were when it came to his relationship.

“Your fault, don’t talk to me like that,”

“Don’t talk sweetly to my girlfriend?” 

“Makes me all blushy and giggly,” she shrugged, beginning to smile as she looked away. 

“I’ll talk to you like one of your directors, I suppose,” Spencer teased gently. Y/N was an incredibly strong dancer, and had her experiences with rude and stress-inducing directors. 

She rolled her eyes and laughed, “I’ll kill myself,” Her eyes met his and she giggled softly, leaning in for a quick kiss, which he returned happily. 

“They’re so cute,” JJ told Prentiss fondly, taking a sip of her coffee, “They’re really good for each other,”

“They are,” Prentiss agreed with a nod and smile, “They’re the kind of people who you would least expect get together, but it just makes sense when they do,” 

At that moment, Hotch entered, a stressed look on his face. JJ and Prentiss exchanged looks, already thinking it was time to pack for a new case. 

Instead, he simply asked, “Has anyone seen my ID?”

Agent Aaron Hotchner? Losing his ID? Something so important, belonging to someone so aware and responsible? A completely out-of-character thing for him to do-

“Uh,” Y/N cleared her throat awkwardly, giving Spencer a knowing look. 

With a sigh, Spencer held out a hand, allowing her to drop Hotch’s ID into it.

[krypticcafe]

Can please get fic where young reader almost gets r-word.. like! What happened to ellie on 'the last of us' like make it into that situation, reader kills the rapist and flees away and runs into the 141 team, and their like in this state of like panic, but they calm them down and they explain what happened they are beyond livid so they just reck hell on the people who was with the man who tried to r-word reader.

(this a platonic relationship between reader and the team)

Me and the Devil

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic 141 x gn!reader

warning(s): no use of y/n, dead dove do not eat, non-explicit attempted r*pe, emotional and physical trauma, sexual physical and mental violence, canon-typical graphic violence, comfort

wordcount: ~3.8k

a/n: i'm not exactly sure what anon meant by young, but for context, reader is probably 20-22, I'm just not comfortable writing this kinda stuff for teen or child reader, I hope you don't mind. also, huge, HUGE emphasis on the warnings. though nothing is explicit and there are no sexual graphic terms, the descriptions and actions alone are still very disturbing and uncomfortable! and the violence is a little uncomfy for those not used to it, too. title is from 'Me and the Devil' - Soap&Skin

synopsis: You can see it. The devil. It laughs, and laughs, and laughs, mocks you for your childish stupidity and naivete. To think the angels would come marching in, that you'd make it out with any semblance of sanity. You can't fight it, you can't even hide from it. All you can do is lie in your grave.

Just hours ago, you were alongside the 141, cleaning up and wiping out an enemy base, a typical Tuesday on a summer afternoon. You should've known things would go downhill with how smoothly it was all going. Even Price commented on it with an air of wariness and suspicion. After all, it was a saying that if the fight starts getting too easy, then it's an ambush. And an ambush it was. You want to tell yourself that it was nothing, easy as pie compared to what you've been through. You wanted to say that it was a success and you turned the tables on your enemies. You wanted to say that it ended within a matter of minutes and that you were on your way back to base with your boys, ready for a night of banter at the pub. You'd join Ghost in watching Soap and Gaz try their hand at poker, taking a shot each time Soap's dogshit luck lost him another couple of euros while Price would pry Roach from having another cocktail and piss himself ('it was one time!' he slurs).

But instead, you're here. Locked in a room, bag over your head, tied to a chair, a stereotypical hostage situation but that didn't make it any less tolerable. Though having a potato sack over your head was nowhere near as embarrassing as the reason why you were captured. You tried your best to hold onto the jeep, honestly, you did. Until some ankle-biter decided to latch onto you and sink his teeth into your flesh, causing your grip to loosen and send you tumbling into the dirt. Your bodies slammed into the ground, kicking up dust and your opponent taking most of the fall damage for you. How thoughtful.

Seething at the audacity he had to chomp on your leg like some feral mutt, you gave him a piece of your mind and made sure he'd never bite another ankle again. His friends caught up the moment you were done. They dragged you back down to the coarse dirt and sand of the earth, making you taste and choke on dust. You looked at the lifeless figure in the sand, briefly wondering if you'd be wishing you were him before a bag was slipped over your head and tied like a collar. It didn't help that the sand on the roof of your mouth combined with your ineffective attempts to ration your breathing made for a burn worse than any hard liquor down your throat. Thrashing and shouting like a madman, you cursed them like some teenager who discovered swearing as they tossed you into the back of a truck, rolling you forth with the heels of their boots. Not your finest moment.

Once you were loaded and the rest of them climbed on, the truck shot forward without slowing down for a second, taking you to your own personal hell for the next few days. Knowing the 141, they were probably at the safehouse, planning their next move to retrieve you. In the time between interrogations and routine attempts to break you, you could imagine Soap and Roach pacing around the room, Ghost brandishing a knife with a dark look in his eyes, and Price looming over a map and pulling up contacts with Gaz at his side. While you hated to burden them with your own mistakes, thinking about them all gnawing their teeth in comical anger at your expense brought you momentary comfort, eliciting a small chuckle.

"Something funny?" Much to your ire, all your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of several people shuffling into the room. You could only expect so much privacy in a place like this. The man who spoke up seemed to carry himself like a leader, considering how he spoke above all others and you could hear him carrying out demands every now and then, checking up on you as if he actually gave a shit. And currently, he was on the top of your "to kill" list, along with every other cunt in this prison.

"What'll it be today, more screaming or more silence? You know, you can only stay quiet for so long." He sighed. Judging by the sound of metal screeching on concrete, he pulled up a front-row seat. With a single yank, you were again temporarily freed of the confines of the bag on your face, glaring at the man with a look of ferocity that seemed as if it were etched on your face permanently. His clothes were disturbingly clean-cut and polished despite the blood he spilled for the past few days. Your blood he spilled. "Come now... you know you'll only make things more difficult. Face it, kid, they're not coming, it's been days."

When you felt gloved fingers touch your jaw you snapped, pulling away like an animal restrained by a leash. Your captor let out a taunting "Oooh", and your skin crawled at how he heckled and laughed like some adolescent boy poking a rabid animal with a stick through its cage. "So it bites."

"Fuck you." You rasped.

"And it talks." The humiliation of their nonchalant attitudes made you seethe, you knew it was a tactic to get under your skin and you just wouldn't have it, turning your head away from the men.

"Uh-uh, eyes on me. How is such a fresh thing like you out fighting wars with men like them?" He hummed, gripping your jaw with a strength that took you by surprise and had you wincing. Even though his hands were gloved, it felt as if he were trying to dig into your skin. With no other choice, you were forced to look into his eyes, the pyres of unimaginable anger burning in yours.

However, it was then that you felt it. Something was off. Something was horribly off about him. The several times he'd come in here to either coax you with gentle words or have his men beat you within an inch of your life, he either had some faux kindness or gleeful malice painted across his face. But this time, his eyes were alight with slimy delight. You hated it, Hated how it made you feel small, cornered, pulling on your leash so that you couldn't be yanked from the one place that made you feel safe. You hated how it didn't feel like he was trying to get under your skin, or sink into your bones but instead your mind as if to violate it. You hated how it seemed like he had something more in mind, something that you couldn't predict like a kick to the ribs or a carefully worded reassurance that you'd be in "good hands". It was the one thing you felt like you had control over, knowing what was next, and now you didn't.

With a wave of his hand, his men all filed out of the room, leaving just him and you alone. One came back with a bowl in their hands and you felt yourself doubt your worries. Were you already beginning to lose it in here? "Hungry?" He smiled, taking the bowl and dismissing the soldier. It looked and smelled like a stew, potatoes, and beef, not scraps of stale bread or lukewarm, half-empty beer cans.

"I asked them to make something special today for you, isn't that nice? I suppose even someone like you has a taste for the finer things in life and wouldn't say yes to leftovers." No answer came but it was to be expected as he mixed the stew with a spoon. Your eyes were trained on his face instead, expecting some kind of strings attached. He entertained that expectation by—to your disgust—spitting into the stew, mixing it more, and bringing up a spoonful to your face. "Consider that the cost of being so picky. Open wide, soldier. Surely you won't make a fuss again, now will you?"

There was a pause, you leaned forward, lips ghosting the tip of the spoon before you roughly shoved his chair away from you with your boot. The bowl fell from his hands onto the ground, pooling between the two of you. He could go to hell with his stupid fucking soup.

He let out a scowl of disapproval, his self-satisfied smirk replaced with disgust and irritation like a parent to their troublemaking child. Fine with you, you didn't need that asshole's approval. He stood, grabbing a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping his hands and the small splatters on his uniform. "Should've known better that the government's pets would act like such animals. I gave you a chance, I tried to make this easy for you." He snarled, tossing his handkerchief aside and grabbing you by the collar, "But no, you just had to be a fucking brat, huh? Fine, be one. I can work with that. Either way, you'll be put in your place soon enough."

Before you could comprehend what he was implying, he slashed the ropes that binded you to your chair with a combat knife and shoved you to the floor, your head throbbing as it hit concrete, along with the rest of your aching muscles. Vision blurred, you sat up and tried to make out what he was doing, falling back when he roughly grabbed your hair and shoved your head back down into the ground. Like an alarm, every single flight or fight response went off in your body and yet you couldn't figure out what he was trying, you just knew that this was something worse and that you were a fool to let your guard down for a single second.

A twisted smile broke across his lips, "You know, you have a very lovely voice. You sing the loveliest songs."

Your brows furrowed, confusion flashing across your face until you let out a yelp of pain when he pressed into your stomach, already bruised from previous matters. He let out a sigh that made you shudder and you felt bile creep up your throat, moving your face to the side in fear that you'd choke on it.

"Eyes. On. Me." He snapped, his voice sounding so much louder than it actually was, his hand twisting your jaw back to look up at him while his fingers proceeded to dig themselves into whatever spots got you hissing and squirming away. That's all it took for your resolve to break, the blaze in your eyes fizzling out and replace with genuine fear and utter shock as you watched him straddle you and stare with a piercing gaze that trapped you. It forced your attention to stay on him, daring you to look anywhere else but him when that was all you could focus on. Him.

You couldn't even scream, paralyzed when you heard the sound of metal clinking against metal and the brushing of fabric, raw horror setting itself alight in your bones at how he loomed over you. At that moment, you swore you could see the devil itself laughing, cackling, mocking you in his eyes.

It was like you were seven again.

Scared, cornered in your room because you swore, you swore and sobbed and cried that you saw it, a monster in your closet. A dark, shadowy figure that'd taunt you merely with its existence and prayed on your downfall, drinking the fat tears you spilled and listening to your high-pitched cries as if they were music, eyes that you couldn't see but they could see you.

Others tried to convince you that it wasn't real, opened the doors, and closed them again, showing that there was nothing but cleanly folded clothes and hung-up jackets lined neatly along a rack. Every time, you'd feel a little more silly about your fears but anxious that they'd come back for more.

At some point, you nearly forgot about the monster altogether. It ceased to exist in your closet, but never your mind.

"Damn it, what now?!"

Pulled back into the present, you heard muffled speech with loud, obtrusive noises and more screaming and cursing from the man above you. He was faced with the still-closed door, talking to a soldier behind it. Instead of trying to catch up with what happened, your mind raced to its defensive instincts. Finding the spoon dropped from earlier, you reached for it with a strained grunt which caught his attention. Yet with a swift grab and thrust of your hand, you jammed the blunt handle of the spoon into his throat and screamed at him, your vocal cords ripping in deliriously satisfying pain.

Barely giving him a second to let out a final gasp for air, you flipped him over underneath you and yanked the spoon out, blood erupting out of the gash. Fire ignited in your veins and you balled your fists, giving him a taste of the rage of a caged beast with nothing left to lose, just the desperation to survive for more. It was a symphony of grotesque crunches of bone and ligament, and you yelled, screamed, and cursed with each impact at him, at the entire organization, at a godless world for making you live through hell. A pitiful yet gruesomely satisfying attempt to reclaim what sanity and control you lost in that room.

Blood and flesh coated your fingers like warm syrup, and you were sure your knuckles were split. Crimson red was a good look on a sterile uniform, you thought to yourself. The sight of your work made you realize it wasn't the devil in his eyes was laughing at you, but rather its reflection from over your shoulder, still gleefully singing and squealing with delight as it watched you indulge in pure, unadulterated wrath. Its tail wrapped around your neck, strangling you with delirium and bloodthirst, guiding you in your ear as you beat an already dead man to a pulp.

Taking a stand, its whispers remained in your ear, praising you and yet you felt sick looking at what was left of what you had done, of what was left of the man's face. His blood pooled around his shoulders, mixing with the stew into an unholy concoction, evidence that was a testimony to your suffering and to your sin. Using his combat knife, you cut through the ropes around your wrists, skin scratched raw and bleeding. Without a second glance, you took his gun and left the room.

To this day, you tell yourself that you crawled out of hell that day.

"Any signs of the hostage?" Gaz shouted over comms, holding off a room of enemies alongside Price.

The moment they had all seen your fingers slip from the jeep and saw you tumble away that afternoon was the moment they knew they wouldn't be coming back to base for a long time. Roach had watched in despair as he was so damn close to grabbing your hand, swearing that had he'd been a little quicker, you wouldn't be here. Soap had yelled for Price to go back but Gaz and Ghost both knew his hand wasn't going to turn that wheel anytime soon. All of them knew. They couldn't turn back, and you wouldn't have wanted them to either, not unless the entire team and mission were to be jeopardized. However, that didn't stop them from doing whatever it takes to get you back safe again.

"Negative." Ghost answered over the line, standing with Soap in a hallway painted with the blood of the opposition, bodies scattered like lifeless bags of flesh with no greater purpose than to rot.

"I have eyes on them, they escaped from captivity. Currently pursuing them!" Roach responded. He'd seen your figure run down a hall at an alarming speed, and when he followed you, he had a glimpse of the room and the spectacle you left behind, "The leader is terminated, too. Jesus, can someone get over here?! They're gunning it for the west exit and I can barely keep up!"

You were in fact, bolting for the exits, panicking the more you got lost and running so fast that you probably could've broken a record on base. Distant gunfire and blasts snapped at your heels like a pack of dogs, reminding you that if you didn't keep running, you'd be dead, you'd be torn apart and beaten just like their leader and fed to the wolves. Boots trampled the ground behind you like drums of death, the yelling of men ringing in your ears, a requiem to the inevitable. Run, just run, it's all you could do in this frenzied state. If you didn't you'd be helpless, you'd be put down like a rabid fucking animal. Run, even if your bones shook from the pain, even if flames licked at your torn muscles, even if it meant dying of exhaustion because anything was better than dying at the hands of those animals.

At last, you found the light of an exit, finally an escape from this asylum. Your heart felt lighter when sunlight kissed your skin only to be weighed down by getting slammed into, grabbed into a relentless hold. You screeched, shrieked, snapped, and sneered while the voices seemed relieved, almost happy at your capture.

"Don't fucking touch me-!" You screamed with animosity, practically frothing at the mouth, "Don't fucking touch me I'll fucking kill you! I'll fucking—"

"Friendly, friendly!"

Still growling under your breath, confusion flickered over your eyes. Why did it sound like... like...

"Captain?"

"You're safe kid," Price panted, as if he'd been running to chase you. He was chasing you. In all your hysteria, you hadn't realized that the group had been running after you for past minute or so, trying to call for you, get you to slow down. The only thing that worked was to just grab to and hopefully knock some sense into you or knock you out. "It's just us, see?"

Your gaze softened, taking in the features of the man before you. Despite the crossfire and fighting, somehow he still had such a kind look on him, puppy eyes that pitied you and kept you grounded. Turning your head, you saw the rest of the men watching you in concern, all tired but overjoyed nonetheless that you were finally back.

You were safe.

It was like a weight finally lifted off your chest, a pile of restrained misery and relief washing over you, and you wept without a thought to pride. Price whispered your name in a way that felt so comfortingly familiar, tucking your head into his shoulder and letting you muffle your sobs into his uniform. It was painful to hear your wails, the relief and the instability shaking off of you in waves. A part of you expected to be scolded, to be teased for messing up so badly with a simple mistake as letting go of the jeep but they didn't.

"You're in good hands,"

"We've got them covered,"

"They can't hurt you anymore, love."

"Do you have any major injuries?" Gaz asked, but you couldn't say a thing, clinging onto Price's jacket and crying like you were four years old and found by your parents after getting lost. Slowly and gently, Price pulled you from him to examine you, and that's when he saw it. It didn't take long for the others to notice as well. Your clothes were torn and belt undone. While no physical harm was visible, knowing what happened was enough to make Price tick.

"Roach, get them to the car and give them some spares ASAP. Everyone else with me, we're cleaning out the place." Everyone else had the same dark look in their eyes, one that sent shivers down your spine but encouraged you once more you were secure now. While Roach escorted you away, you peeked back to see them disappear back into the building. After you changed in the car, you could hear the distant gunfire and screams, shutting your eyes closed tight, making an effort to drown out the thoughts.

"You okay?" Roach frowned. he had apologized to you a dozen times over on your way to the car and explained all that happened after you were taken, which you appreciated him for and insisted it wasn't his fault. But he was sweet and stubborn, bandaging your wounds and telling you he'd make it up by giving you his dessert for the next month, a gesture that made you smile for once in a while.

"Yeah, yeah just... hope they're safe." You breathed, sinking into your seat with the rest of your thoughts. Though you cried once more, quietly this time and on Roach's shoulder. He was cautious not to initiate too much physical contact, holding your hand only when you asked for it.

The building was silent, not a single soul left to be reaped by the 141. They all regrouped around a body that was beaten beyond belief, to the point where the face was unrecognizable. Regardless, they knew who it was.

Gaz broke the silence, "You think they did this?" They all looked at each other, not wanting to imagine what happened to lead to this point.

Ghost nodded, a confirmation of something they already knew but wanted to mutually agree on. "No one else could've made this much of a bloody mess. HQ's going to have a field day with this. Can't say that he didn't have it coming for him, though."

"And well deserved, too." Soap spat. Price continued to look down on the figure on the floor without any thought to it. Not anger, disappointment, or spite, just disregard. Headquarters would be interested to hear what happened, but he could care less about the report. All that mattered was that loose ends were tied.

Minutes later, the men all piled up in the car again, setting for the road back. You woke from your half-asleep state, rubbing your eyes. You were met with a soft smile from Soap, who ruffled your hair. "You alright there, sleepin' beauty?"

Humming in acknowledgment, you nodded and glanced out the window to see the road whizzing by, the building growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Some dingy warehouse. So that was the hellhole you were stuck in for a near week.

"Dinnae think 'bout it too much," He followed your gaze and nudged your boot with his, "When we said they can't hurt ye anymore, we meant it."

"Yeah," You quietly mumbled, leaning back on Roach, who had fallen asleep and leaned on Gaz for support. "Can smell it on you guys."

That got a rumbling laugh out of Soap and even a little headshake from Ghost who sat in the passenger seat. Looking at the rearview mirror, Price was looking right back at you, eyes flickering to the road occasionally, "Get some rest. It'll be a long ride home."

You nodded like a little kid with a mumbled "yessir" and drifted off once more. For the first time in forever, you feel like you can breathe and ground yourself, no punishment, no torture, nothing to haunt in this rare bit of calm. You didn't feel the pain of your sore muscles, you didn't feel that your body was filthy, you didn't feel small and scared, not anymore. Just surrounded by nothing but a familiar feeling of safety and lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine that took you home.

a/n pt.2: had a tough time writing this one but hey, I think I managed! to be honest, though, I'm not super confident about the ending and proofread this while half-asleep, but I'd love to hear some thoughts about it. shoutout to the people who noticed any reoccurring themes.

[itneverendshere]

it's my party, and i'll cry if i want to - r.c

request: I was wondering if you might write a Rafe x reader fic where Rafe forgets her birthday but then makes up with her?

you spent the entire day oscillating between disappointment and sadness. 

crying on your birthday was a common thing when you were growing up, a girlhood achievement. everyone did it.

but now that you had rafe? your birthdays were amazing. he always went out of his way to surprise you and cherish you. he would’ve never forgotten something as important as your day. 

at least you didn’t think he would.

until today.

yeah, long-distance had been tough on both of you since college started, and while rafe usually tried his best to make you feel special, today was different.

it had been radio silence, no messages or missed calls. not even an instagram story reaction. now, it was already past midnight, the day officially over. your birthday had come and gone, and he hadn’t acknowledged it once.

you lay on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to rationalize the situation. 

maybe something came up, a family emergency or he got caught up in one of his class projects. you wanted to believe that.

rafe had never been perfect, but he had always tried when it came to you. this, though? It felt like a gigantic slap in the face. 

the soft sound of your door creaking open startled you from your thoughts. your heart raced in your chest, confused. you lived alone off-campus—no one ever came by unannounced.

you sat up, wiping at your tired eyes, and just as you were about to call out, you saw him.

rafe stood there, looking haggard, his clothes slightly wrinkled, his hair messy from a long day. but the sight of him, standing in your doorway, made your heart stop.

he was there. in person.

“rafe?” you nearly gasped, “what—what are you doing here?”

his blue eyes were filled with guilt, brows furrowed, he looked like he’d been through hell and back. he dropped his duffel bag onto the floor and took a hesitant step toward you.

“baby—” his voice cracked. “’m so fucking sorry.”

you blinked, trying to process what was happening.

“sorry for what? for not calling? for forgetting? for ignoring me all day?” you didn’t mean for your voice to sound so broken, but goddamit it was your birthday.

you spent it all alone because you were too depressed to step foot outside your stupid apartment without a text from him.

he took another step forward, closing the distance between you.

“didn’t forget, baby. i swear. i was trying to surprise you, i was supposed to be here hours ago, but—” he sighed deeply, running a frustrated hand through his messy hair. “everything went to shit.”

your brow furrowed in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“i booked a flight,” he explained quietly, sitting down on the edge of your bed, his knee brushing against yours. “wanted to fly in and surprise you, to spend the whole day with you. didn’t wanna say anything because i thought it’d be more special if i just showed up, y’know? but god hates me or some bullshit.”

you watched him carefully, your heart beating faster, unsure where he was going with this.

“the flight got delayed—twice. then it got canceled. i spent hours trying to get on another one, but there were no other options. by the time i finally landed, it was already after midnight.” he looked down at his hands, which were fidgeting nervously. “and i know that’s no excuse, but—”

“why didn’t you call me?” you asked, “you could’ve let me know.”

rafe let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“couldn’t. my phone, uh, it broke. sorta.”

“what?” you asked, not sure if you heard him correctly.

“yeah.” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “when the flight got canceled for the second time, i—uh—i might’ve thrown my phone against a wall. i was so pissed baby, so stressed because i knew i was ruining the surprise, and then…i couldn’t even call or text you. i was stuck.”

you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

the image of rafe, frustrated and angry at an airport, throwing his phone in a fit of rage was almost too ridiculous to believe. 

“so, you didn’t forget?” you whispered, your voice cracking.

you spent the entire day making up scenarios in your head, about how maybe he’d gotten tired of being with you, how he had found someone new back in college.

“no, god, no,” he shook his head fervently. “i’d never forget your birthday.”

the sincerity in his voice made you want to cry like a baby all over again. there was still the lingering loneliness and insecurity of the day you spent thinking he had.

“i thought…” you swallowed, unable to hold back the tears, “i thought you didn’t care anymore. that we weren’t… enough. i was scared,” you admitted after a long pause. “that maybe you were pulling away or we weren’t working anymore.”

rafe’s brows furrowed, and he quickly shook his head.

“no. never. we’re working, okay? this long-distance bullshit—it sucks. but you and me? it’s forever, okay?”

you nodded slowly, “i really missed you.”

his expression dropped at your words, and in an instant, he was pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly against him.

his scent, the feel of him, it was all so familiar, so comforting. you buried your face in his chest.

“shh, baby,” he murmured, his hand running soothingly through your hair as he kissed the top of your head. “’m so sorry. i never meant to hurt you. fuck, i hate that i made you feel like that. i wanted today to be perfect for you.”

you sniffled, trying to calm your breathing as you clung to him. “it wasn’t perfect.”

“i know,” he whispered, “i messed up. should’ve found a way to reach you, should’ve figured it out. you don’t deserve that, not on your birthday, not ever.”

he had tried. he had wanted to be here. and while it hadn’t gone the way either of you planned, his presence now, his arms around you, felt like all you needed.

“you broke your phone?” you asked, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth despite everything.

rafe’s face flushed with embarrassment, but he chuckled. “yeah, it wasn’t my proudest moment, shattered pretty badly. don’t know if i can get it fixed.”

“that’s so stupid.”

he laughed at your words, the sound rumbling through his chest where you were still nestled. his arms tightened around you just a little, as if he was scared you might slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

“i was so pissed. thought i was ruining everything.”

you pulled back enough to look up at him, your eyes red and puffy from the tears you’d been holding in all day.

“you did ruin it,” you teased though there was no real bite behind your words.

rafe still winced even thought he could tell you were joking.

“maybe i could’ve borrowed someone’s phone at the airport, or... i don’t know, sent a smoke signal or somethin'.”

it wasn’t the grand birthday surprise he’d been planning, and it wasn’t the perfect day you had imagined, but right now, having him here—seeing how much he cared—it was starting to feel like enough.

you snorted, “smoke signal, huh?”

he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at you. you audibly cooed at his dimples.

"yeah, or, like... maybe hired a skywriter? whatever it took. i would've done anything to get to you."

you chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes, the lingering tears drying up now, “so dramatic.”

“’m serious,” he insisted as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “i’d swim across the fuckin' ocean for you if i had to. swear to god, baby. nothing was going to stop me from getting here.”

the love in his eyes took your breath away. he wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better; you could see in his face, that he meant every word. the frustration and desperation of the day had taken its toll on him too and he had been trying so hard to be with you, to make your day special.

you know much he hated that he couldn’t.

“you’ll make me cry again,” you groaned, feeling your heart swell with emotion. it wasn’t perfect, but the lengths he had gone to just to be with you made you want to kiss him stupid.

he was here now, holding you like you were his entire world.

rafe leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your lips.

“’m sorry i messed it up. i hate that you spent the day feeling like i didn’t care. you mean everything to me.”

your chest tightened, “i felt so alone, didn’t know what to think.”

“i know,” he replied, his hands still gently holding your face. “but sweetheart, i don’t care if we’re a thousand miles apart, i’ll always be here when you need me. ’m not going anywhere.”

the tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from sadness, only from the overwhelming love you felt for him, for the boy who would go to any lengths just to be by your side.

“i love you,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you spoke the words.

rafe smiled, his eyes softening as he kissed you, his lips lingering against yours in a tender moment. “i love you too. so much.”

you sighed into the kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in his messy hair, pulling him closer. the pressure that had been sitting in your chest all day seemed to disappear as his arms wrapped around you, as if he could keep all the hurt and disappointment away just by being near.

it was just rafe—his hands gripping you because he couldn’t imagine to let you go, his lips coaxing out all the loneliness you’d felt throughout the day. 

when he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours again, his lips curving into a playful smirk.

“so… about the whole swimming across the ocean thing. think you’d be impressed?”

you giggled, rolling your eyes. “you’d probably drown halfway.”

“oh? so what i’m hearing is you don’t want your present.”

you nudged him playfully with your elbow. “i deserve at least three.”

“you want more presents now? greedy.”

you crossed your arms, trying to maintain your teasing tone despite the closeness.

“you haven’t even wished me a happy birthday.”

he leaned back, elbows hitting the mattress as his lips morphed into a shit-eating grin, “was planning on doing it inside of you.”

you slapped his stomach, “don’t be disgusting.”

rafe’s grin only grew wider, clearly proud of himself.

“just for you, baby,” he teased, sitting up to lean in close again, his lips ghosting over yours as he added in a low whisper, “happy birthday.”

the low timber in his voice and that god-sent southern drawl sent a shiver down your spine. you forgot all about the worst birthday of your life.

the way he was looking at you now, like you were the only person in the world that mattered, made everything else seem insignificant.

“you’re lucky you’re hot,” you murmured, kissing him, your lips brushing against his with a tenderness that made his heart do that funny thing.

“damn right,” he mumbled against your mouth, kissing you back with more fervor, his hands slipping around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. “gonna make it up to you. all of it.”

you could only tilt your head back slightly as he kissed his way down your neck, your hands fisting in his hair.

“i have class at 8.”

“nah,” he breathed against your skin, nose running up your neck, “you’re not leaving this bed for the next twenty-four hours.”

you couldn't help but smile as his lips trailed over your skin, “twenty-four hours?” you repeated breathlessly, your fingers tugging lightly at his hair, your heart fluttering. “you think i’ll skip class for you?”

rafe grinned against your collarbone.

“know you will,” he murmured, greedy hands wandering over your sides, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. “i’ll make it worth your while.”

a laugh escaped you, "you're so cocky.”

"confident," he corrected with a smirk, lifting his head to meet your gaze. he brushed a stray tear from your cheek, his touch gentle despite his rough hands, “i’ll spend the rest of the night making it up to you. making sure you know just how much i love you.”

leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his in a slow peck, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him beneath your hands. 

“i love you,” you whispered against his lips, your voice only a breath, but in that moment, you knew he heard every word.

“i love you more.”