#IF I WAS STANDING RIGHT THERE IN YOUR APARTMENT

[delusional-day-dreamer]

Sleepy Girl - p.b.

‣ paige bueckers x gf reader!

‣ wc: 2k of smut 😛

‣‣ synopsis: waking up in the morning horny and ur girlfriend is right there tbh (ending is kinda rushed and the fic is not yet edited so please bear with me)

‣‣‣ a/n: hey guys... i know i completely ghosted this app for a good while but thank you for all the support even while i was MIA. this idea came to me at 11pm on vacation and i figured i should grind it out and make a return. i have a lot of drafts and ideas i came up with but no idea if i'll be able to write them all. in the meantime enjoy and happy holidays!

The warm sunlight spilling in to your bedroom and directly onto your face from the small gap in your curtains seemed to have it out against you.

It was one of the incredibly rare weekends of the season, where your girlfriend, Paige, didn’t have morning practice, lifting, or any PT sessions for residual pain after coming back home late from a basketball game (UConn won, obviously) and the two of you planned to make the most of it.

Having been in a relationship for almost a year now, the two of you had gotten to know each other pretty well over time. From working with the basketball team as a photographer to sharing a class with Paige, to running into each other literally everywhere every single day, metaphorically and physically, the universe seemed to have an intricate plan to bring the two of you together. And with such insistent force, who were the two of you to rebel?

The past ten months dating Paige had been a small roller coaster, the days spent together blissfully were obviously accompanied by the occasional argument of time management or messy rooms or even slight jealousy, but it was nothing the two of you couldn’t work through.

And of course, it was all accompanied by the mind blowing sex you couldn’t stop having. Bent over the kitchen counter, in the shower, in the living room, standing up, from the back, you name it.

But, there was one thing you and Paige had discussed exploring, but never gotten the chance to pursue, and it seemed like this morning was the perfect chance to test it out.

Depending on who woke up first, the two of you often liked to wake the other up with gentle kisses, roaming hands, and sweet nothings. But your synced ovulation cycles brought on a new possibility: morning head.

Although the concept of fucking your girlfriend while she was asleep seemed… well, odd to say the least, the two of you had discussed consent extremely thoroughly, and you weren’t going to sit (or lay in this instance) here and pretend that the sight of Paige laying in your bed right now wasn’t actively turning you on.

She had come to your off campus apartment immediately after her game at XL center and crashed pretty fast, only stopping to shower change into an old, oversized yet cropped off the shoulder sweatshirt of yours and a pair of boxers she left in your drawers.

Currently, she was conveniently splayed out on her back, her left arm stretched above her head raised the hem of your sweatshirt upwards, exposing the curve of her chest and the slightest glimpse of her pink nipples, which were already slightly peaked from the cold air radiating from your fan.

It didn’t take long for you to make up your mind, softly crawling over to rest in between her legs as you leaned over her sleeping figure, using your left hand to gently lift the fabric over her perky tits, exposing her creamy skin to you. You slowly peppered kisses on her boobs, not wanting to create too much stimulation that would wake her before you got to the more exciting part. Although, you weren’t sure you would have to worry about that. Paige could sleep through a hurricane if she was tired enough.

You nipped and sucked at her chest, making sure to pay special attention to her nipples before beginning your descent down her toned abs, bringing your hands to rub at her thighs simultaneously.

Paige groaned softly in her sleep, unconsciously spreading her legs out wider as your fingers danced over the waistband of her boxers.

Deciding that there was no reason to be a tease, especially with the growing ache in between your own legs, you hooked your fingers in her boxers and pulled them downwards, being extremely careful when taking them off her body fully and throwing them off into a corner of your room.

You shift lower, aligning your face with Paige’s already wet cunt as you grip her thighs and blow into her folds lightly, gently arousing her.

You start softly, small kisses and hickeys leading inwards before you finally allow your tongue to lick a long stripe from her entrance up to the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her breath slightly hitch.

Even in her sleep, Paige’s body was actively reacting to the growing pleasure as you circled her clit with your tongue and hummed into her, sending shockwaves running through her body, legs spreading, mouth dropping open with low moans, and back arching.

And yet, she was still asleep. You had no interest in waking her up forcefully, it would defeat the whole purpose of morning head. So, you dutifully detached your lips from her clit, opting to replace it with your thumb as you run your fingers through the slick she had accumulated before inserting your middle finger into her, curling it upwards in the way you knew she loved, which seemed to do the trick.

Her eyes began to flutter open the moment you added in your ring finger, mouth dropping with a groan as her right hand reaches out to cup the side of your face.

"Good morning," you rasp out, your breath hot against her sensitive cunt as you smirk at the already fucked out expression on her face.

"Fuck baby, God I didn’t think it would be this good when we talked about-”

Her sleepy whines were cut off with another loud moan as you reattached your lips to her clit, pressing into her g-spot with your fingers while simultaneously sucking her clit, small laughs vibrating through her core as you watched her body shudder at your actions. Her hand immediately moved up to your scalp, placing a firm grip in your head as she secured your spot deep between her legs, anchoring you in place.

"Aw shit ma, fuck you're so good at that, right there just like that, such a good fucking girl for me, don't stop mama you're gonna make me cum," her breathless rambles were endless as she used her left hand to play with her already exposed nipples.

The added stimulation pushed her closer to the edge, and it wasn't long before her muscular thighs began to shake around your head, closing around the sides of your face as she began to grind her hips into your mouth, chasing every second of her orgasm as her mouth hung open with cries.

She eventually let up after you finished licking her clean, even making a show of pulling your fingers out of her and sucking her juices off of them. Her gaze darkens as she pulls you up and over her body once again, capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

She nips at your bottom lip before pulling away, feigning annoyance in her tone. "As much as I loved the little stunt you pulled just now, shit pissed me off too. Brought this up in the first place cause I wanted to surprise you."

"Actin' like it's that big of a deal P, you can just do it a different morning," you teased, hand running up and down her side.

"Mm, whatever. All I care about right now is gettin' you right ma," she mumbles against your lips, reconnecting your lips as she slips her tongue into your mouth, grabbing your ass and rolling your hips into her at the same time.

"Nuh uh, it's your day to pillow princess. Lemme spoil you a little bit. You're still tired and sore from your game yeah? Besides, I have a better idea," you insisted, rising up and straddling her waist.

You shoved your sweater off her body before Paige's large hands pulled your grey tank top up and over your head, tossing it somewhere either of you couldn't be bothered to check. Her hand pressed into your mid back, forcing you to arch over her, conveniently placing your perky tits right over her mouth.

Her teeth scraped against your stiff peaks as her other hand, which had quickly returned to its place resting on your ass, began rocking your hips back and forth over her abs, drawing out deep sighs of pleasure from the multiple sources of friction and stimulation.

"Fuck Paige," you whined out, "why you gotta make it so hard for me to take care of you sometimes," you half-heartedly reprimanded, pinching her nipple roughly as you tore yourself away from her, shimmying your basically non-existent thong off as you resettled yourself in between her legs.

"Crawl up to the headboard," you demanded, raising your eyebrow at her inquisitive expression.

"Please," you added in with a soft pout, satisfied when she complied with your request. You eagerly followed her body, stationing your hands on her shoulders as you draped your right leg over her left, maneuvering her right in order to rest over your own left before gently lowering yourself down, hissing the moment your cores met.

You rolled your hips forward tentatively, moving your left hand down to Paige's right thigh while you sank forward, circling your other arm around her neck as you moaned against her lips.

The kiss was a needy, open mouthed mess of saliva and moans as you continued to roll your hips into Paige's with the help of her guiding hands, shocks of pleasure licking your spine every time your clits aligned.

As you approached closer to your orgasm, your head tipped back, mouth hung open with desperate, borderline pornographic whines constantly spilling out, impairing your ability to kiss Paige back. Though, she would never complain and simply kept her mouth busy by sucking hickeys along your neck and chest, whispering filthy words of encouragement into your skin.

"My girl's such a slut for me, huh? Riding me so good, pussy so wet she's dripping all over me, 's basically crying for me ma. You like that?"

Her gravely voice added to the fuzzy feeling that had taken over your brain, driven only by the tight coil threatening to snap any second in your belly. From the feeling of yours and Paige's warm slickness coating your entire cunt, to the deep throbbing you clit was experiencing.

You moved your left hand from Paige's thigh up to the headboard, using it to grind down harder against Paige's center, and the pressure on your clits had moans ringing out from both of you.

"God, Paige. So close baby, fuck I'm so close," you whined near incoherently, eyes screwed shut from the way your entire body was on fire, on the edge of immense pleasure.

She moved her mouth to the sweet spot behind your ear, nipping at the skin as she her fingers deftly began tweaking your nipples. "Cum for baby, give it to me. Please need it so bad."

You cry out as a freight train of an orgasm hits you, Paige's words and hands sending you over the edge, and the sight of you coming undone, not to mention the sounds you were letting out, left Paige no choice but to follow your lead.

Your body shuddered against hers, the pleasure slowly washing over you, leaving you breathless and extremely sensitive. You untangled your legs from Paige, collapsing on the bed next to her and pulling her down with you.

You kissed her sweetly, intimately, a far cry from the sex you were just having.

"I love you so much you know that?" You muttered against Paige's lips, cracking your eyes open to see the lazy smile set on her face.

"I love you too, even though I'm pissed you stole my surprise," she whispered defiantly.

"What you don't think those two orgasms made up for it? We can go for round two if you really insist," you smirked, knowing that there was no way your body could handle another orgasm immediately.

Before she can even answer, your stomach growled loudly, inciting loud laughter from both of you.

"How about we take care of that first yeah? We can go for round two in the shower after breakfast," she responded slyly, pulling you up and out of bed with her to get dressed and have breakfast together. To you, nothing in the world could beat mornings like these with Paige.

[everythingne]

little miss wingwoman (2) - ln4

penelope continues you meddling through you moving into lando's apartment, and saving a christmas disaster from happening.

warnings/notes: implied complicated pregnancy for kelly, most are complicated as far as i've seen (i dont have kids so. dont yell at me.), also implied family tensions for the reader, i used this recipe for the pasta they cook!! ignore im posting christmas fics after christmas i do not care <3

(prev | next)

Penelope gets to enact her first part of the plan a few days later. A small post-season dinner, just some drivers Max had been playing padel with earlier swinging by to help out Max with some baby stuff. You are home, of course, helping Kelly with some organization in the master bedroom.

You're struggling with one of the big thick boxes for toys, trying to build a shelf you'll have the boys carry into the room later. Most of the shelf was able to be paired together by hand, but a few screws at the end make you huff when you realize Max had taken the screwdriver.

Getting up, you wander to the bedroom where Penelope is watching the boys attempt to set up both the crib and the little handmade wooden mobile above it. Leaning on the doorway, your eyes naturally fall to Lando who is biting his tongue poking out of his lips in focus as Max curses over the screw being stripped.

Seemingly again, based on Charles' quick French quip as he digs in a box to find another screw.

"You're having about as much luck as we are." You finally find your voice, your eyes not leaving Lando's as he perks up, his tongue darting back inside as a rose dusts across his cheeks. Max sighs and hands you the screwdriver and you kneel down, jamming it in like a hammer until you basically brute force the screw into it's hole.

"And, if you don't need this, I'll be stealing it. I'm almost done with the bookshelves, we'll just have to secure them to the wall after."

"Yeah, just pull it in when you're done." Max says, thanking you for getting the screw in, before you're off to the other bedroom. Penelope stays behind for a bit, peeking into the room once or twice as you sit back down on the floor to finish the shelving.

It takes until you're on the last drawer for her to ask--

"Do you like Lando?" Penelope lingers in the doorway, and you just nod, eyebrows knitting as you get the loose screws to finally lock into place. You can hear Max and Charles celebrating getting something to work in the other room, Lando's laughter coming closer down the hall with his soft socked footsteps.

"I think Lando likes you." Penelope says with a matter of fact tone that makes you life your head, and Kelly tuts out a laugh, waving Penelope over. The girl happy smiles and runs over to hug a very sleepy Kelly, giving her mom's stomach a little kiss while she's at it.

"P, they're friends. Friends like each other." Kelly smiles, running a hand through her mini-me's hair, "you like all your friends, right?"

"But Mommy," Penelope scowls, climbing up to stand on the bed so she can lean into her mothers ear to whisper. You look down then, finishing up the last of the screws with a triumphant whistled sigh, overshadowed by Kelly's soft laughter.

"I'm being serious! I studied, and asked Maxie, and my teacher!" Penelope scowls, crossing her arms at her mother and just earning a soft laugh in reply. Looking over, you see Lando lingering in the doorway, offering you a smile as his hand to help you up.

"Pen said you need help moving this?" He asks softly, almost nervously, after helping to bring you to your feet with a warm hand in yours and resting on your bicep. You smile and nod, words failing on your lips. Your hand lingering in his longer than necessary, before you hear Penelope whispering to Kelly and you step back.

"Please," You say, smiling at the dimples that appear on his cheeks with his curvy lipped smile, "It's not heavy, just long. Max has the wall bolts in the nursery, so he can finish it in there."

"Sounds good to me, I'll get this side..." Lando walks off, and as you two move the shelves out of the master bedroom to the nursery, you cant help but laugh as the whole thing is so awkward to shuffle around. Once you get it out, Kelly lets out a cheer, and you look back to see Penelope wink.

It's been a few days, and while Lando's off on a ski trip with Quadrant, he gives you free reign of his apartment since you really only have clothes to move in since all of your old stuff is between boxes in your childhood home and two or three boxes you bring down from Max's apartment. Lando leaves to catch his flight with a slightly nervous smile, telling you to make it feel homey, if possible. So after a Max sponsored trip to the stores, you fill the backseats of the Porsche Lando let you borrow from him with just about everything. New pots and pans to replace his old stained ones, proper cleaning supplies, and plenty of house decor.

You'd driven into France to go shopping for the bigger items, planning for some little furniture bits to be shipped around the holidays. Everything you text Lando about buying is met with enthusiastic pleases and thank yous and probably a concerning amount of money wired into your account via Venmo.

You're unloading as much as you can into the apartment, taking probably far too many trips up the elevator, when Lando calls you as you're in the midst of restocking his fridge with actual food.

"I hope this isn't going to ruin your day," He opens with and you feel dread fill your stomach at his nervous tone, because with Lando, it could, “my mom asked if I could host christmas this year… and I kinda forgot I said yes..."

"Lando." You deadpan, looking at the bare apartment, "oh my god."

"Listen! Consider this payback for the rent or something! She asked me before Miami, how was I supposed to remember after that weekend!" He groans and you cant help the laugh that bubbles out of your throat as you look back at all the things you'd bought.

"You have to help me not make this a horrid mess, I'd never live it down!" Lando laments, his voice pitching higher, "I'm finishing up with Quadrant early, and I'll be home soon after. I've got them all a hotel room, so we at least don't have to worry about that. But we need... well, to make my apartment look lived in."

"I got some stuff already, as you know, but I don't have to see Penelope until tomorrow so I can head back out to the shops--"

"An extra of my credit card is in my desk drawer. Consider it my gift," He stammers, "Shit, my Ma is gonna kill me if she realizes I forgot."

You laugh softly, "Listen, when are you gonna get home?"

"Tomorrow morning, maybe?" His tone is light, but the hint of panic in his tone makes you feel a little soft.

"Today, I'll get what I already bought in the house and set up. Tomorrow, when you get home, we'll figure out what else we need." You say softly and Lando thanks you profusely, promising to buy you a bottle of whatever liquor you want for your troubles, and then he ends the call. Leaving you standing in the kitchen with a soft sigh and laughter. The whole situation was just... very Lando.

It's not like you're gonna go home for Christmas.

The next day, Lando comes home to your changes. Throw blankets, pillows, pictures his mother had gifted him on the wall after forever. You're in the middle of making lunch when he stumbles in, yanking his suitcase along with him in a less than graceful fashion. You watch as his eyes widen at the little table and shoe rack in the entryway, the carpet that leads into the main area where the kitchen and living room are. The lamps that you've gotten to warm the lighting, the new dishes, the little knick knacks you must've found in a box or two in the spare room you'd set up. You've even taken all his helmets out of their cases on the floor and neatly displayed them in the case his Dad had built for him forever ago, the shelves to expand it resting on the wall besides the case.

It's... it's a damn home.

"Hey," Lando smiles as he walks in, finally seeing you in the kitchen. You blush, looking down as you realize he'd caught you watching his sweet reaction. The way you fit so nicely in his home makes something twist in his head, making him feel oddly warm, bubbly in his chest, as you smile.

"Hey yourself," You chime back as you glance up, "do you want a sandwich?"

"Sure." He says, "You... made this place really nice. I'm impressed."

"Thank you, here, grab a plate..." You smile and begin listing new things you wanna do, build the new shelves, put a christmas tree in the middle of the big bay windows in his living room, maybe some stockings under the tv, and of course string lights all over. You contemplate some cute little knick knacks on the shelves you've put up, oh! Some lights inside the shelves for his helmets to be shown off, too.

You rattle ideas all the way through finishing his food, and you settle the plates down. Luckily for Lando, you give him some gift ideas too. Things you'd seen while out at the shops, and you thankfully know most of the drivers in Monaco well enough to have an idea or two of what to get them, and you remind him to buy gifts for his parents and siblings and extended family as you set a simple sandwich and chips down in front of Lando.

Lando just blinks before sighing happily, "You're literally perfect."

It makes you nearly choke on your sandwich. And he stammers with red cheeks, "Well, you are, but I mean--I mean like... you're exactly the type of person someone who doesn't really know how to adult needs. You've got everything all figured out, y'know!"

"I'm a nanny," You deadpan, "And Kelly didn't really know much when I moved in with her when Pen was a baby. And Max's apartment... it was close to yours. Except, at least, he knew how to live like an adult and not have expired food."

Lando shrieks out a "Hey!" That makes you both laugh, and his laughter melts into yours. It all feels so natural, the way you both just stand there grinning over little sandwiches.

Hours later, after ridiculous amounts of shopping, and take-out dinner, you get to setting up the Hallmark movie you plan to turn his house into. It really doesn't take long for you and Lando to fall into a rhythm, and by the time his pauses on the couch turn into him falling asleep on the couch, you're almost done. You finish up the tree, shoving the gifts you'd bought for the Verstappen-Piquets underneath, before turning to Lando.

"Lando," you whisper, shaking his shoulder, "Hey..."

He stirs, murmuring something intelligible with a pout that almost makes you giggle. It takes another few calls of his name to coax him awake long enough to at least get him in bed. Even if he's still in jeans, you happy to save his back from the horror of sleeping sitting up like you'd done once or twice.

The next morning, Lando helps you make breakfast and with Christmas music and movies playing for some background noise, you pretty much finish up the entire apartment within the day. Lando leaves around six to get some presents for his sisters, and ends up video calling you to ask about jewelry. He gets Flo a beautiful little silver horse necklace, with a little custom plate with her horses name on the back, and after an instagram peruse you determine Cisca should get something bold in gold, and he settles on a nice piece of earrings for her. Oliver is a bit harder, so you let him call his Mom to find ideas while you finish up cleaning.

And when he comes home, you teach Lando how to wrap his gifts, somehow ending up in a big plaster for a cut he gets on his hand and tape stuck in your hair.

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, kellypiquet, and others...

yourusername: everyone say thanks max and kelly for letting me take a week off so i could move into this random guys apt and make it look like a hallmark movie

tagged: landonorris

maxverstappen: you've done the unthinkable, make lando not live like a child

user: THEY LIVE TOGETHER??

kellypiquet: i need the skill you possess to make everything magical

user1: wait why is yn living with lando and not max??? is she not penelope's nanny??

-- yourusername: i still am her nanny dw!! with baby lion on the way I got evicted (rightfully), and lando lives in the same building and had an extra room he offered :)

-- user2: wait thats so cute

-- user3: romcom moment

maxfewtrell: THATS HIS APARTMENT?

-- yourusername: yes, you're welcome

landonorris: i feel a little attacked right now

-- yourusername: don't even try to get pity points, you had month old cheese

-- landonorris: in my defense i forgot it was there

-- yourusername: IT WAS MOLDY.

-- user4: prayers for yn

On the 22nd, you get to watch Penelope for the day since Max is finishing up meetings before his break for the holidays and Kelly's mother is over considering she's feeling quite swollen and ill. You'd been there since the beginning, with the issues and the pain. Max and Kelly had struggles, and you had taken Penelope out plenty of times for days when the two just needed a breath.

Watching Penelope so Kelly can go to an emergency appointment doesn't feel new, but it makes you so anxious.

So you and Lando have her come down to your apartment, giving Kelly a much longer hug than usual and wiping away her stressed tears as Lando shows Penelope the new decorations in the apartment.

"It'll be fine." You say softly and she nods, giving you one more tight hug before her mother brings her along. Shutting the door behind you, the way Lando holds Penelope up so she can place the star on the tree is so undoubtedly domestic to you it makes you feel warm as you shut the door.

"Penny," You call, and her head whips around as you ask, "Did Kelly make you anything for dinner?"

Lando pops Penelope down on the floor and then turns back to straighten the star. Penelope runs to give you a hug, clinging to your legs as she announces that no, she didn't get dinner-- and, she wants to cook the 'spiced' pasta with you, Lando tilts his head as he slowly makes his way over in his sweats.

"And you!" Penelope grabs Lando's hand, dragging him the rest of the way into the kitchen, "Please Yn! Please?!"

"You're sure you want the spicy pasta? 'Cause half the time I end up eating all of it and ordering you food." You place your hands on your hips, and when Penelope all but cries for it, you agree. The 'spicy pasta' is a normal corkscrew pasta with a gochujang based sauce. You typically make it a lot hotter, but because both Lando and Penelope don't like spice as much you change the plan.

Penelope helps Lando salt the almost boiling water and chop up the shallots while you root through the pantry, eventually finding all the ingredients. You'd bought them a week ago, when Lando hadn't been home, and made it for dinner so you knew you had everything. Dragging a chair over, you let Penelope jump up to sauté the shallots, onions, and garlic in butter and olive oil with Lando's supervision while you gather some spices.

"Here, P, let me get in there." You say softly, and miss Penelope's knowing smirk as she jumps down and scoots the chair out of the way. You begin to pop down a smaller scoop of gochujang than usual, whilst Lando watches curiously.

"Wait so, what is this red stuff?" He asks, grabbing the container once you close it. As you infuse the ingredients, you softly explain.

"It's gochujang," You look over to Lando to find him already intently watching you, "it's like a Korean fermented, spicy, savory paste. I used to cook a lot with my first family I worked for in London, and they loved Korean food."

Lando nodded, "Have you always been a nanny?"

"I was an Au Pair first, like a live in babysitter while I was in secondary school. But I started to nanny Penelope right around when she was born and haven't left." You look behind you, as if expecting to see Penelope, but she's gone. You and Lando share a look, almost as if saying ' of course she ran off' before he chuckles softly.

You turn back to the pan and nod, "Lando, can you grab me the green bottle next to you?"

He picks it up as you lower the heat, and your cold hands brush his warm ones as your take the bottle. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you pour a little bit of the soju in, capping it, and stirring again until it all thickens up while Lando drains the pasta noodles. He stands besides you as you let him stir slowly as you add in half and half and parmesan cheese until it's make a thick sauce.

Dipping a noodle in to taste, Lando groans, "this is actually so good."

"It's my favorite," You smile, "A good old comfort dish, since I don't have any from my family."

Lando nods and helps you add the pasta to the sauce, mix it up, and set it in three bowls. Settling down to eat in the kitchen, you watch as Lando and Penelope chat. Smiling softly, you rest your head on your hand, giggling along with Penelope's stories from dance class, ignoring the way Lando's smile makes your chest tighten.

After dinner, Penelope asks to watch the live action Cinderella. You've seen it with her in the past, so you have no issue turning it on as Lando finds a little bit of candy for Penelope to eat during the movie--like a dessert.

Once the three of you settle down, Penelope forces you three to share a blanket and you end up between her and Lando on the couch. The beginning of the movie rolls by, but soon enough Penelope is asleep in your lap, leaving just you and Lando far too close for comfort.

But it grows comforting as the movie picks up, and by the time Cinderella has met her Prince, Lando's shifted to allow you to lean against him.

Maybe watching a romantic movie with a guy who makes you flutter, if even you're not sure why, isn't the best idea because the both of you catch each other's gaze more than once. Biting lips to hide smiles and thanking the dark lights for hiding you blush.

Luckily, Penelope wakes up before the end of the movie, and Kelly comes back soon after the movie ends. You help Penelope pack up while Lando cleans up the apartment, and when you go to drop Penelope off, your eyes catching Lando's makes heat rush to your face.

Shit.

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[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: stalking, yandere, anxiety, paranoia, isolation tactics

♡ GN reader

You’re anxious. You probably shouldn’t be, and you tell yourself that. You’re being silly. Utterly silly. It’s most likely just coincidences—a string of oddities, enough to freak you out. And you’ve always been too easily spooked.

You just happen to have the same situation and routine, is all. So what? You live in the same building, both of you grab coffee at the same cafe on your way to college, where you both happen to go, both of you get off at the same time despite having different classes, both of you go grocery shopping every Monday before coming home, and both of you do laundry down in the basement every Sunday before bed.

It’s not such an original schedule, you tell yourself. Jeez, he's not stalking you! No. It’s natural to buy everything at the start of the week and even more standard to do laundry at the end of it. It’s normal! Totally normal!

You’re just imagining the rest. The way he looks at you. You’re just freaking out because it’s your first time living alone, out in the big world, all on your own. He’s probably in the same shoes as you. New city, tiny apartment, big campus, long lectures, broke shit. 

Yes! That’s why he offered to do laundry together. One washer, one coin, one dose of detergent—that’s two for the price of one and half the price for both of you. Of course! That must have been it—and not any of the creepy things you’ve suspected. Obviously, he isn’t asking to do laundry together to steal your underwear like some freak—what are you even thinking!?

You’re such a bad person. It’s not like he’s done anything directly off-putting. Asking you over for dinner is a nice thing, after all. Again, it saves money and keeps you both company. It’s lonely living alone, after all. It’s not like you think it’s swell spending every evening with your nose in your textbook, just waiting for the school to plan a social gathering or something so that you can make some friends. 

You’re such a dumbass. Wanting to make friends, yet shunning the one friendly guy in your building just because he’s been a little too forward. It’s not as if he’s asked you out or anything! He’s just being nice! You’re the one being weird! Thinking weird things—condemning him of doing weird crimes he hasn’t even done!

“Hey, neighbor,” he says. Right on time, just like always. Doing his laundry at the same exact moment as you.

“Oh–hey,” you greet back.

It’s not weird, you have to remind yourself. You’re here on time, aren’t you? How come you’re allowed to be consecutive, but it’s suddenly weird when he is? How does that make sense? It doesn’t. You’re being paranoid.

Oh, but then he picks the empty washer right next to you, even though there are plenty of others to go around. No one else does their laundry at this hour.

He’s being friendly, you tell yourself. Neighbourly. It would be awkward if he chose a washer at the other end of the room, wouldn’t it? Yes. Yes, that would be awkward.

“D’you do anything fun this weekend?” he asks as he empties his basin into the tub, pouring a cub of powdered detergent over it—the same type you use.

Leaning against your machine, you watch him from out of the corner of your eye, trying to silence your inner thoughts—at least enough to not let any of your unfounded suspiciousness leak into your voice. “Mh-no, not really. I just studied. What about you?”

He turns the machine on, smiling lazily while saying, “Nah…” then turns around, mirroring your leaning stance, standing shoulder to shoulder. “Though I heard one of the frathouses had a party…”

He tilts his head down, looking at you—friendly-faced, asking, “You didn’t go?”

You try to stop yourself, but you blanche despite the effort. Head hot, you fold your arms over your chest, hugging yourself a little.

There was a party? When? This weekend? How come… nobody told you?

You swallow, unable to look back at him—suddenly feeling a little bit sick. 

“Uhm… no,” you say. “I didn’t feel up to it...”

His eyes slim at your obvious lie, but you don’t see it—now too wrapped up in your own embarrassment to pay attention.

His smile curls. You’re an open book if there ever was one.

But you don’t have to feel embarrassed. Of course, you didn’t go to the party. You didn’t even know there was one. And how could you? When he broke into your locker and took the invitation—just as he’s done with all the other party fliers every single week. 

“Not your thing?” he says, trying to hold back his glee.

You still don’t look at him—too chagrined—looking like you want to dig a hole and bury yourself in it. “I guess so…”

Oh, he could just lick that expression right off your cute little face.

“Not mine either,” he chuckles, rummaging through the bag at his hip, pulling out a book, and flashing the cover to you with a grin. “I’m more of a book club type of guy.”

You blink. Reading the title with big round eyes.

“Have you joined one yet?”

You look at him then, shaking your head, “Oh, no—uhm, I couldn’t decide…”

He hands you the book. You receive it in both hands. Your fingers brushing each other.

“You should join us then,” he offers. “You’re gonna get burned out if all you read is textbooks, y'know?”

He watches your eyes widen—looking like a peasant, beholding him as a saint who’s just offered you shelter from the storm.

“Thank you...”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Shinso ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo, Megumi, Yuuta �� HQ – Sugawara, Kuro ♡ CSM – Aki, Yoshida ♡ AOT – Armin ♡ DS – Tomioka, Tanjiro, Zenitsu ♡ HxH – Kurapika, Leorio ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[kammazi]

★ katsuki and yourself weren’t big drinkers. sure after you two had graduated, you had gone to a few parties here and there but you were never a fan of the whole spinning dizzy feeling that alcohol brought with it, especially since you two are heroes. patrolling while hungover under the heat of the hot summer sun was dreadful.

so when you get a call from katsuki one evening while you were on patrol saying how kirishimas and the rest of the guys were going out for a few, who were you to say no? even though you knew the invitation for yourself always stood, katsuki needed some time for himself and by the time you would get off patrol it would already be past midnight.

so after exchanging some ‘i love you’s’, you disconnected the call and got back to whatever strolling you were doing.

and as the night went on you got more and more notifications that buzzed in your back pocket from who you assumed was your boyfriend. you eventually had a quick break and chugged an energy drink while fishing for your phone.

you let out a snort of laughter and looked around to make sure no one heard you before looking back down at your screen. there you saw multiple pictures took by denki of him standing on what you assumed was a stool while taking 0.5 picture’s of katsuki. what made you laugh even more was his flushed face and droopy eyes that held no fight in them as he stood there with his hands by his sides.

you could tell that he had drank quite a bit and as your break came to an end you had a short two hours left of your shift before you were able to finally get home and most likely take care of your said boyfriend.

and you were correct because as soon as you even such as stepped in through the doors of your shared apartment your phone once again started buzzing, this time it was a call.

“hello?” there was a shuffling noise before shouting hit your eardrums along with the music that blasted in the background.

“HEYY LOOK, ARE YOU-” you grimaced as you hear a glass breaking alongside some yelling. “huh? hello?”

the phone was picked back up. “THIS IS KIRISHIMA, KATSUKI IS KINDA REALLY DRUNK AND-” you then heard a whooshing sound and another crash. you stood there looking at your phone and then brining it close to your ear again. “uhh..kiri..shima?”

you heard the phone being picked up and panting into the microphone. “SORRY I JUST LAUNCHED MY PHONE HALFWAY ACROSS THE DANCE FLOOR AND IT HIT SOMEONE IN THE FACE.” you had to physically distance yourself from the phone before answering.

“kiri you don’t have to yell i can hear you!” you felt as if it was a screaming competition at that point. you heard a cackle before kirishimas finally got to the point.

“sorry, sorry! it’s just that bakubro got hella drunk and he’s kinda unmovable right now. he keeps saying your name and won’t really listen to anyone, would it be alright if you could come and pick him up?”

you were already picking up your keys and sliding on your shoes. “of course, be there in five.”

and so here you were pulling into the parking spot outside of the front doors of the building.

as you stepped in, you already felt exhaustion hitting you as you strolled around to try and find your boyfriend and those goons.

and then you saw him, sitting in a corner seat, with a cute sleepy look on his face, arms still crossed as always. kneeling in front of him, you saw denki, sero and kiri sitting across as they helped gather his stuff. you placed a palm against his face and patted his knee with the other.

“kats, love?” he groaned and slightly opened his eyes. “hey i’m gonna take you home okay?” and then suddenly, he moves his face away from your hand as his face held something like a mix of disgust and offence.

“get those damn hands away from me. i’ve a girlfriend.” although his speech was slurred you blinked before letting out a chuckle as the guys behind you hollered and stumbled over eachother.

you raised a brow, amused to see him act that way. “oh really? sorry about that kats, i won’t do it again.” his face whipped around to face you as he grimaced again. “oi. don’t call me that. only she can and you ain’t her.. so back off...” his sentence held no malicious intent as his head slowly tipped back. “where is she. i miss her.”

kirishima then came up next to you and patted his back. “bro shes right here! see?” in response to his words, katsuki raised his head and squinted at you for a while before slowly smiling. “heyy it’s my girlfriend.” immediately his head landed on your shoulder. he started babbling as he wrapped his arms around your frame, almost knocking you to the floor from the sudden weight. in the meantime, you glanced at his red headed friend.

“i’m sorry how much did he drink?” in response he scratched the back of his neck before holding up three fingers. “JESUS KIRI THREE BOTTLES?” kirishimas shook his head before cackling. “three drinks.”

now you knew your boyfriend was a lightweight but this was a tad too funny to you, not that you would ever tell him.. obviously.

with the help of kirishima, you managed to walk out a stumbling katsuki and just about sat him in the passenger seat before strapping him in as he babbled on about how much he missed you. sero and denki handed over his wallet and phone to you and you thanked them before saying your goodbyes as you sat behind the wheel.

on the drive back katsuki acted like he hadn’t seen you in months by the way he held your hand and kissed it every two seconds. with him telling you how much he loved you and how beautiful you where. in that moment you could not only feel somewhat giddy but be thankful for having this man in your life. no matter how tough he looked or acted, it really was true that he was a softy, drunk or not.

after arriving, getting him into bed wasn’t even a problem. he listened to your every word as he clung to you like a koala. you helped him brush his teeth on the toilet seat as you sat on his lap. even while drunk, his grip was still firm but gentle.

you then got him changed, him getting stuck in his t-shirt a few times, and you both finally climbed into bed. there was pure silence other that his quiet snores as he rested on your chest. as expected, he ended up passing out the second he wrapped his arms around you.

as you pressed a kiss on his forehead, you could once again feel the wave of exhaustion crashing over you as the warm pressure of katsuki’s body lulled you to sleep.

and in the morning katsuki awoke with not only a headache but also a lovely picture of his drunken state as a 0.5 printed and framed photo hanging in the living room as a forever reminder of that night.

[miedei]

lol I imagine spencer picking reader up after her first girl's night with the BAU ladies and he's all 'why did you let her get so drunk' but he's so in loveeeeee will let her climb him like a koala and take her home and take off her makeup for her bc she'd forget </3333

omgg anon you read my mind!!

1k, you're drunk and love spencer (he loves you too)

mystery girl!au

He shows up to the bar, calling you, but in your drunken stupor you seem to be struggling to pick up the phone. Elle, much more sober than the others, guides him over to the booth that you've crammed yourselves into. JJ and Garcia are leaned on your shoulders from either side, voices overlapping as they speak incoherently. Spencer can't help but chuckle at the complete 180 your expression makes, however.

Before you catch sight of him, you're frowning down at your phone, your jabbing finger missing the buttons every time you try. Nodding absently at whatever's being said around you, you can't tear your eyes away from it, your knitted brows making affection swell up in Spencer's heart.

But when you do see him?? It's like the clouds have parted. Your eyes light up, straightening up in your seat as you wave happily, not caring that you're jostling JJ and Garcia as you do.

"Spence! You're here! I was trying- trying to call you but," You frown again, "my phone is being weird." The frown can't stay for long, though, as you climb haphazardly over JJ's lap in order to stand in front of Spencer, lauching yourself at him with a giggle.

He can barely keep his balance, widening his stance a little before running a hand up and down your back with an indulgent smile.

"How much have you had, angel?" He stares pointedly at Elle as he speaks to you, who raises her palms in a repentant gesture. You mutter something into his shirt, words muffled as you don't seem willing to take your face out of his chest just yet.

"What was that?" "I dunno, Spence. Can we kiss?"

He flushes, and no matter how drunk they are, JJ and Garcia can always pick up on an instance where they can tease him. They giggle behind their hands, unsubtly whispering about how they've got to tell Morgan about this. Spencer can't bring himself to care, though, not when he's got you in his arms, your chin propped up against his chest as you look up at him pleadingly.

He can't help himself, bending down painfully at the neck to plant a kiss on your lips.

After making sure Elle is alright shepherding the other two home, he sweeps you out of the bar, bundling you up in his cardigan before putting you in the passenger seat of his tiny car. He's not a huge driver, so he has less of his attention on you than he'd like, but you don't seem to notice, chattering away mindlessly in the passenger seat about how the music was sooo good tonight and your friends are so cool spence i might steal them (you have).

Once you make it back to your apartment complex, he half-drags you into the lobby before giving up and hoisting you onto his back piggy-back style. It's surprisingly effective, not only to get you moving faster, but the sight of his brown hair right in front of your face shuts you up real quick.

He doesn't really realise why until he catches a glimpse of you in the elevator mirror, and the view of your eyes trained fixedly on his hair, clumsy hands trying to be gentle as you braid some of it, has his eyes practically turning into hearts.

Once he finally gets the two of you into the apartment, he makes sure you're holding on tight as he undoes your strappy shoes, placing them in the shoe rack overflowing with mismatched pairs. After toeing off his converse with nowhere near as much care, he maneuvers the two of you into the bathroom, depositing you on the bathroom counter. You whine softly at the loss of his hair in your hands, but his tolerant smile has you melting, looking up at him with a dopey smile.

Your adoration nearly has you forgetting to process what he's doing. He's darting around the messy bathroom, grabbing bottle after bottle until his arms are full.

"Spence, what are you doing?" The drinks have clouded your processing skills, and all you want to do his hold him and go to sleep.

He shoots you a small smile, depositing the stuff on the counter next to you before approaching you, cotton pad in hand.

"I've gotta take off your makeup, you know you'll feel uncomfortable tomorrow if you go to sleep with it on," Your eyes are glassy, looking up at him as he swipes at your face with the utmost of care. All the emotions that you harbour for him seem to bubble up inside you, until you can't take it any more.

If you were more lucid, you'd write him a poem. Maybe organise a fireworks show, or buy him a star. But, you're still held in the throes of alcohol, so it's all you can do to blurt out: "You're so so pretty Spence, I love you."

Despite the gesture not being nearly as extravagant as he deserves, blood rushes to his face, and he ducks his head a little as he kisses your forehead wordlessly. He continues to wipe at your face, much gentler than you would, revelling in the feeling of your soft skin under his hand, calloused from his gun.

Finally, once he's done, he helps you out of your dress, handing you one of your pyjama pants and a shirt of his to wear to bed.

As soon as you're dressed, looking achingly cozy perched on the counter, hair mussed and clothes draping over your form, he helps you down to your feet with hands firmly on your waist. He wraps his arms around you from behind, waddling the two of you to the bedroom and tucking you into the covers.

At long last, he slides into bed next to you, giving you some space in case you're overheating still. You can't have that, though, and shuffle along the mattress until you're tucked into his side. Falling asleep almost instantly, you push your head into the crook of his neck, and he buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply and whispering into the darkness,

"I love you too"

[lizziesangel]

RAFE CAMERON - distractions

x FEM!SWEETHEART!reader - MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: based on this request

WORD COUNT: +4.4k

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: /

the fire crackled softly as the pogues gathered around the pit, their faces illuminated by the faint orange glow. tension hung heavy in the air, thick enough to cut with a knife. jj was pacing, his hands flying in exaggerated gestures as he spoke.

“i’m just saying, maybe if we’d all been there, groff wouldn’t have gotten away with it,” pope said, his tone sharper than usual.

jj stopped mid-step and whirled around to face him, his expression fierce. “oh, so now it’s my fault? we didn’t exactly plan on groff showing up out of nowhere with a knife, by the way!”

pope rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. “it just feels like we’re always one step behind because we’re not thinking ahead.”

jj’s jaw clenched, and kie jumped to his defense. “you don’t know what it was like, bro. groff was—is crazy! he cornered us—we didn’t have a choice.”

“enough, guys,” sarah tried to interject, but the bickering continued to escalate.

“yeah? maybe if you’d handled it differently, we’d still have the crown!” pope shot back, ignoring her.

jj took a step closer, his voice rising. “oh, so you think you could’ve done better? fine, next time you can take a knife to the gut for the team!”

Kiara nodded emphatically. “exactly, i didn’t see you volunteering to take a knife to the gut.”

“that’s not what i—”

kie nodded, her arms crossed defensively. “next time we’ll fight him off with my flip-flop.”

pope rolled his eyes annoyed, “you’re not even wearing flip-flops, bro!”

the argument was heating up, voices overlapping as frustration spilled out into the night.

you sat on a rock near the fire, watching the scene unfold with a growing sense of unease. everyone’s emotions were valid, but the bickering wasn’t helping anyone—not with groff still out there with the crown.

“guys,” you said softly, but no one heard you over the escalating voices.

jj threw his hands in the air. “so, what? now we’re just gonna sit here and play the blame game? is that the big plan, man? you wanna lead with that?”

“calm down, man!” cleo’s voice intervened through the argument.

sarah’s voice rose above the others’. “okay, enough—”

“GUYS!” you said, louder this time, standing up. the force of your voice cut through the noise, and everyone turned to look at you, startled.

“this isn’t helping,” you said, looking around the circle. “we’re all upset about losing the crown, but blaming each other isn’t going to bring it back.”

“groff’s got the crown, and we need to focus on getting it back—not tearing each other apart.”

jj’s shoulders relaxed slightly, his defensive stance softening as he gave you a grateful nod. kiara looked away, fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist, clearly relieved someone had stepped in.

pope sighed, running a hand over his face. “you’re right,” he admitted grudgingly. “sorry, guys.”

“yeah, me too,” jj muttered, though his tone was still a little prickly.

“okay, good,” you said gently, your voice losing its firmness and returning to its usual warmth. “we’ve gotten out of worse situations than this, and we’ll figure it out.”

for a moment, the group was quiet, the only sound the soft crackling of the fire. then cleo nodded, her voice calm but determined.

“she’s right. let’s focus on how we’re going to get the crown back.”

rafe, leaning against a nearby tree, crossed his arms but didn’t say anything, his gaze lingering on you with a flicker of something unreadable. while the others dove back into planning, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easily you diffused the situation. you had a way of bringing people together, and for a group like this, it was exactly what they needed.

the pogues gathered around a weathered map of lisbon spread across the dining table in their cramped apartment. john b marked potential locations where groff might stash the crown, the group buzzing with nervous energy as they pieced together their plan.

“we’re gonna have to split up,” pope said, tapping a pen against the map. “groff’s got too much ground covered. we’ll need pairs to check out these locations.”

“alright,” sarah said quickly, glancing at her brother. “i’ll go with rafe.”

“absolutely not,” john b interrupted before she could say another word, his voice sharp. he leaned forward, his jaw tight as he stared at her. “you’re staying with me.”

sarah rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “oh, come on, john b. it’s not like he’s going to—”

“that’s not the point,” he shot back, his tone sharp. “if something happens to you while you’re with him—” he trailed off, shaking his head. “no. you’re staying with me.”

“he’s right,” you cut in gently, giving her a small smile. “you should stick with john b, especially with your situation. he’s just looking out for you.”

sarah looked at you, frowning, but she could see the logic in your words. “then who’s going with rafe?”

the room went quiet for a beat, everyone glancing at you. “i’ll go with him,” you added, your tone calm and confident.

jj’s eyes darted to you, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “you sure about that?”

before you could answer, rafe scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “bro, i’m standing like right here,” he said, gesturing toward himself with both hands. “it’s not like i’m gonna hurt her. relax.”

“better not,” cleo muttered darkly, flipping her pocket knife open with a loud snick. she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, and gave rafe a look so sharp it could’ve sliced through steel. “i swear to God, cameron, if you so much as—”

“okay, okay,” rafe interrupted, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “message received. loud and clear.”

kiara, sitting cross-legged on the couch, nodded in agreement with cleo. “yeah, seriously. don’t even think about pulling any of your usual crap, rafe.”

“usual crap?” rafe echoed, clearly offended. He gestured toward you again. “she’s literally the nicest one here. you think i’m gonna risk her hating me? hell nah.”

you couldn’t help but smile softly, cutting through some of the tension. “thanks for the vote of confidence, rafe,” you said, earning a smirk from him.

jj still looked unconvinced, “alright, but if he so much as looks at you funny, i’m punching him.”

“alright, that’s settled,” pope said, quickly trying to steer the group back on track. “john b and sarah will cover the docks, jj and kie will hit the market district, and cleo and me can handle the high-end galleries and auction houses, y/n and rafe, you’ll be checking out groffs’ villa in lisbon.”

JJ and Kie take the east wing, John B and Sarah cover the main entrance, Cleo and I will handle the courtyard, and Rafe and Y/N will take the west wing.”

“fine,” jj said reluctantly, pointing at rafe. “but just know if anything goes wrong—”

“yeah, yeah,” Rafe muttered, brushing him off. “cleo and kie will hunt me down and end me. Got it.”

“good boy,” cleo said, flipping her knife closed with a snap.

as the group dispersed, jj pulled you aside, his face etched with concern. “hey, just... be careful, okay? i know you think rafe’s all mellow now, but he’s still, you know, rafe.”

you smiled at him, your voice light. “i’ll be fine, jj. he’s not as bad as you think.”

jj gave you a skeptical look but let it go, clapping you on the shoulder before heading off with kie.

across the room, rafe leaned against the doorframe, watching the exchange with a faint smirk. “i’m starting to think jj’s got a crush on you.”

you rolled your eyes as you walked over. “ew, or he just doesn’t trust you.”

“fair,” rafe nodded, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “but for what it’s worth, you’re probably the only one here who doesn’t look at me like i’m a ticking time bomb, besides sarah. so thanks for that.”

you gave him a small smile. “let’s just get that crown back tomorrow. then we can all go back to bickering about smaller stuff.”

rafe chuckled. “deal.”

you arrived in lisbon just as the sun began to set, the golden light glinting off the red rooftops and the sprawling tagus river. the city was alive with activity—tourists crowding cobblestone streets, locals enjoying evening drinks at cafés, and street performers entertaining passersby. it was a stark contrast to the tension simmering among the group as they piled out of the old van they had borrowed back in morocco.

rafe stretched as he stepped onto the street, glancing up at the colorful buildings around them. “well, at least we’re moving up in the world. this is way better than that thing.”

cleo rolled her eyes, muttering, “don’t get comfortable, cameron. we’re here to work, not sightsee.”

john b stood at the front of the group, holding a crumpled map of the city and motioning for everyone to gather around. “alright, listen up. we’ve got a lot of ground to cover, and not much time to do it. groff’s probably already making moves to offload the crown, so we’ve got to move fast.”

pope unfolded his notebook, scanning his notes as he spoke. “here’s the breakdown: john b and sarah, you’re covering the docks. there’s a chance groff’s smuggling the crown out of lisbon by boat, and we need to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“got it,” sarah said, looping her arm through john b’s.

pope continued. “jj and kie, you’re hitting the market district. if groff’s trying to keep a low profile, he might use the black market to sell it off quickly.”

jj grinned, nudging kiara. “our specialty. ready to haggle, kie?”

kiara smirked. “always, jayj.”

pope glanced at cleo, who was leaning against the van with her arms crossed. “you and i will handle the high-end galleries and auction houses. groff’s ego is big enough that he might try to make a spectacle of selling the crown.”

cleo gave a nod, flipping her pocket knife open and closed with a practiced motion. “high-end, low-end, doesn’t matter. we’ll find him.”

finally, pope turned to you and rafe. “y/n and rafe, you’re checking out groff’s villa in lisbon. it’s risky, but if the crown is still there, it’s our best shot at getting it back.”

“of course,” rafe muttered, shaking his head. “send me to the guy’s front door.”

jj let out a laugh. “oh, stop whining, man. you’re perfect for this. you’ve got the whole rich guy vibe—you’ll fit right in.”

“yeah, because blending in with criminals is exactly what i want to do right now,” rafe shot back.

before the banter could escalate, you stepped in. “we’ll manage. let’s just focus on the goal, okay?”

jj glanced at you, then back at rafe. “just making sure you’re good with this, y/n. if he screws this up—”

“i’m right here,” rafe interjected, throwing his arms up. “it’s not like i’m gonna sabotage us, i need groff for the money—”

“you better not, cameron. because if you do…” cleo gave him a sharp look, flipping her knife one last time before tucking it into her pocket.

rafe raised his hands in mock surrender. “message received.”

sarag, standing beside john b, gave rafe a soft smile. “just, be careful here. and no funny business, rafe.”

you sighed, “guys, relax. we’ve got this.”

john b clapped his hands, eager to move things along. “alright, that’s settled. we meet back here tomorrow morning to regroup. let’s go.”

the group quickly dispersed, each pair heading in different directions. john b and sarah headed toward the docks, hand-in-hand, already deep in discussion about their strategy. pope and cleo took the map, navigating toward the wealthier part of the city with a determined air. jj and kie walked off toward the market district, jj’s voice animated as he joked about their chances of running into trouble.

you and rafe lingered for a moment, watching as the others disappeared into the bustling streets.

“well,” rafe said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “looks like it’s just you and me.”

you shot him a small smile. “guess so. ready to check out groff’s villa?”

rafe hesitated for a beat, then nodded. “yeah. let’s get this over with.”

the two of you turned toward the direction of the villa, the noise of the city fading behind you as you made your way toward what could be the most dangerous part of the mission.

as you and rafe walked through the bustling streets of Lisbon, the golden glow of the city slowly giving way to the neon lights of the evening, he suddenly stopped in front of a boutique hotel. its grand facade was adorned with ivy, and the warm light spilling out of the windows gave it a welcoming, upscale charm.

“alright,” rafe said, turning to you. “before we go to that villa, we need to clean up.”

you raised an eyebrow, glancing at the hotel. “erm, this place looks... expensive.”

he shrugged, already pushing open the door. “and? i’m literally rich. stop stressing.”

you hesitated, glancing up at the elegant sign above the door. “still, isn’t it overkill? we could just—”

“look,” rafe interrupted, motioning for you to follow him. “we can’t show up looking like we just rolled out of a dirt van. a villa isn’t exactly a campsite. you want to blend in, right?”

you sighed, knowing he had a point. with a reluctant nod, you followed him into the hotel, the cool air and faint scent of lavender immediately hitting you. the lobby was all polished marble and tasteful decor, and you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place in your slightly dusty clothes and sneakers.

rafe walked up to the desk and, with an easy smile, slid his black card across the counter. “one room, please.”

the receptionist’s polite demeanor faltered for just a second when she saw the card, but she quickly recovered, handing over the key. “of course, sir. enjoy your stay.”

you followed rafe to the elevator, still feeling a bit uneasy. “i feel like i should apologize to your bank account.”

he smirked, pressing the button for the top floor. “don’t. this is nothing.”

the room was as lavish as you’d expected—plush bedding, a balcony overlooking the city, and a bathroom that looked like it belonged in a spa. as soon as you stepped inside, rafe tossed his bag onto the couch and stretched.

“alright,” he said, pointing toward the bathroom. “shower’s all yours. ladies first.”

you hesitated, glancing around. “you sure?”

he gave you a look. “y/n, just go. i’m not a caveman.”

you smiled faintly and gathered your things, disappearing into the bathroom. the water was a welcome relief after days of travel, and by the time you emerged, wrapped in a soft robe provided by the hotel, you felt more human than you had in ages.

rafe disappeared into the bathroom next, and soon the sound of running water filled the room. while he showered, you stepped out onto the balcony, taking in the breathtaking view of lisbon at evening. the city sparkled below, a mix of history and modernity that felt almost magical.

when rafe reappeared, his damp hair tousled and a fresh shirt thrown on, he looked more relaxed than you’d ever seen him. “alright,” he said, grabbing his wallet. “next step—shopping.”

you blinked, surprised. “shopping?”

“yeah.” he motioned to your clothes, then to his own. “we need something a little... classier. groff’s villa is basically a playground for rich criminals. we can’t show up looking like backpackers.”

he led you through the streets to a high-end shopping district, the kind of place where the window displays featured items that probably cost more than your monthly rent back home. you hesitated as he guided you into a sleek boutique.

“rafe, i don’t think i can afford anything in here,” you said quietly, eyeing the price tags.

“good thing you’re not paying,” he said easily, already browsing the racks. “pick something you like.”

“i can’t let you—”

“you can, and you will,” he interrupted, handing you a dress that looked stunning but way out of your comfort zone. “just try it on. trust me.”

you sighed, reluctantly taking the dress. the fitting room was just as luxurious as the store, and when you stepped out wearing the outfit, rafe froze. his usual confident smirk softened into something almost unreadable as he looked you over.

“damn,” he muttered under his breath, before quickly recovering. “see? told you it’d look good.”

you rolled your eyes, trying not to blush under his gaze. “alright, fine. you were right.”

“obviously,” he said with a grin, tossing a sleek blazer onto the counter for himself. “now let’s get some shoes, and we’re set.”

by the time you both finished, you felt like you’d stepped out of a fashion magazine. rafe gave you an approving once-over as you walked back toward the hotel to drop your old clothes off.

“now we’ll fit right in,” he said, his voice almost teasing. “that old man won’t know what hit him.”

you smiled, a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling up. “let’s hope so.”

you couldn't help but tug at the hem of the dress, trying to stretch it a bit. the fabric was sleek and tight—way shorter and more fitted than anything you’d ever worn before. you weren’t used to the way it clung to your body, feeling self-conscious as the evening breeze brushed against your bare legs.

“rafe, this is—” you gave the dress another pull, trying to make it feel less tight. “i don’t know, i feel like i’m about to—”

before you could finish, rafe’s hand came out, slapping yours away gently but firmly. “stop.” his voice was more teasing than serious, but there was an edge of reassurance. “you look good. seriously. it’s just a dress. you should wear it with confidence.”

you blinked up at him, feeling your face flush as you glanced down at the dress again. “i probably look so weird,” you muttered, uncomfortable in the way it felt too... much.

he raised an eyebrow, stepping closer so he was standing just beside you. rafe didn’t seem at all bothered by the change in your outfit; in fact, he seemed completely unfazed. “no,”he said, his voice quiet but firm. “you look beautiful. and you need to stop second-guessing yourself.”

you swallowed, your heart fluttering a little at his words. there was something in the way he said it—so sure, so direct—that made you feel… seen. beautiful, even.

but you still weren’t sure about the whole thing. you tugged at the hem of the dress once more, trying to give yourself a little more space, feeling out of your comfort zone.

rafe sighed, his expression softening as he watched you. “y/n...” he took your hand, gently slapping it away from the fabric one last time, this time more insistently. “you look perfect. don't mess with it. just... own it.”

your heart raced, his words hitting you in a way that made you feel more exposed than the dress ever could. but there was no time to dwell on it. rafe seemed to have made up his mind.

he took your hand in his, his fingers curling around yours with a surprising amount of gentleness, and for a moment, the city around you felt like it slowed down. the noise of the busy streets faded, and all you could focus on was the warmth of his hand around yours, how natural it felt, how right.

before you could say or do anything, rafe slid his arm around yours, pulling you gently into his side. his arm settled around your shoulders, a protective and easy gesture that made your heart skip. “better,” he said with a small grin, his voice softer now. “let’s get going, yeah?”

you didn’t have it in you to argue. all the nervous tension had melted away, leaving something warm in its place. you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so... at ease with someone.

“okay,” you whispered, glancing up at him, trying to steady your breath. “thanks, rafe.”

he smiled down at you, his grip tightening slightly around your hand as you both walked through the streets of lisbon, side by side.

the glowing lights of groff’s sprawling villa came into view as you and rafe followed the directions on his phone. the estate was perched on a hill overlooking the city, its elegant architecture and manicured gardens screaming wealth. by the time you arrived, the clock read 10 p.m., and the sound of music and chatter drifted through the warm night air.

“there’s a party,” you observed, stopping to take in the sight. groups of elegantly dressed people mingled on the grand patio, glasses of champagne in hand, while staff moved efficiently among them.

“yeah,” rafe muttered, glancing around. “makes sense. groff probably thinks he’s untouchable. let’s see about that.”

instead of heading toward the front entrance, rafe motioned for you to follow him along the side of the villa, where the shadows were deeper. the two of you crouched low as you crept through the back garden, carefully avoiding the pool of light cast by the garden lanterns.

when you reached a quiet corner, he pointed to a narrow pathway leading toward an open window on the second floor. “that’s where we need to go. his office is up there.”

“okay,” you whispered. “but how do we get in?”

rafe leaned against the wall, assessing the situation. “we’ve got a problem. there’s a guard standing right in front of the door to groff’s office.”

you peeked around the corner, spotting the tall, burly man in a black suit. he stood with his arms crossed, scanning the area, clearly on high alert.

“great,” you muttered. “what now?”

rafe smirked, his gaze flickering to you. “you’re going to distract him.”

your eyes widened. “me?”

“you,” he said with a shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “i’ll climb up to the window outside while you keep him busy.”

“and how exactly am i supposed to do that?”

he grinned, leaning in a little closer. “seduction.”

you blinked at him, incredulous. “are you serious?”

“dead serious,” he said, clearly enjoying your reaction. “look, all you have to do is keep his attention on you. talk to him, flirt a little—whatever it takes. the more distracted he is, the easier it’ll be for me to slip in and grab my contract so i get my money back.”

you crossed your arms, giving him a pointed look. “and how do you suggest i do that, exactly?”

“you know…” rafe trailed off, looking vaguely uncomfortable as he gestured vaguely. “just... talk to him. flirt a little. keep him busy.”

“flirt?” you hissed, feeling your face heat. “rafe, i don’t know how to—”

rafe tilted his head, clearly relishing the opportunity to give advice. “okay, first—stand up straight. confidence is key.”

you rolled your eyes but straightened your posture nonetheless.

“good. now, make eye contact. guys like him eat that up.”

you gave him a skeptical look. “anything else, coach?”

“yeah,” he said, stepping closer and gesturing toward your outfit. “you’re already dressed the part, so just lean into it. smile, maybe touch his arm while you’re talking to him. compliment him on something—his suit, his job, whatever.”

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “that’s your big advice? laugh and look amazing?”

“this is so not my thing.”

“you’ll be fine,” rafe assured you with a grin. then his voice softened, his teasing edge fading slightly. “you’re way more charming than you think.”

his words caught you off guard, and you felt a warm flush creep up your neck. “fine. but if this goes south—”

“it won’t,” he said quickly, placing a hand on your shoulder. “you’ve got this. and if he tries anything, i’ll be there in two seconds, alright?”

you nodded reluctantly, squaring your shoulders as you approached the guard. rafe gave you a reassuring nod before disappearing into the shadows, heading for the side of the villa.

as rafe slipped away toward the window, you approached the guard, your heart pounding. he noticed you immediately, his gaze narrowing slightly as you stepped into the light.

“hi,” you said, mustering your best smile. “i think i might be lost.”

the guard frowned. “this area’s restricted. guests are supposed to stay near the party.”

“oh, i know,” you said quickly, stepping a little closer. “i just… i saw you standing here, and i thought maybe you could help me.” you let your fingers brush lightly against his arm, just as rafe had suggested.

the guard’s expression softened slightly, his posture relaxing. “help you with what?”

you tilted your head, feigning innocence. “well, you look like you know your way around here. and you’ve got that whole… strong and serious vibe going on.”

the guard chuckled, his chest puffing out slightly. “it’s part of the job.”

as the guard became more engrossed in the conversation, you noticed movement out of the corner of your eye. rafe was climbing through the window, his movements quick and silent.

you kept talking, your nerves barely under control. “so, do you work these parties often? it must be exhausting, keeping everything under control.”

the guard leaned in a little, clearly buying into your act. “it’s not so bad. but i can’t say i’ve had anyone as pretty as you come over to talk to me before.”

you forced a laugh, feeling increasingly uncomfortable as he stepped even closer.

just then, rafe appeared, stepping out from the shadows behind the guard with pieces of paper in hand. his blue eyes narrowed as he took in the scene, his jaw tightening when he saw how close the guard had gotten.

“alright, back off,” rafe said sharply, his voice cutting through the moment like a blade.

the guard turned, startled, but rafe was already stepping between you and him, his expression dark. “she’s with me.”

the guard raised his hands defensively, stepping back. “hey, no problem, man. i didn’t know.”

“yeah, well, now you do,” rafe said, his tone cold. he turned to you, his hand finding yours instinctively. “let’s go.”

you followed him quickly, your heart still racing. as the two of you disappeared into the shadows, you glanced at rafe, feeling a strange mix of emotions—gratitude, relief, and something deeper you couldn’t quite name.

“thanks,” you whispered as you walked away.

rafe glanced at you, his grip on your hand firm. “don’t mention it. no one messes with my gi—you.”

your breath hitched at his words, but before you could respond, he gave you a small smile and pulled you along, the tension of the moment fading into the cool lisbon night.

[acid-ixx]

brutus: just a burning memory (villain au concept)

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist !

a/n: just a tiny excerpt i want to post regarding this because i want more conner kent content but make it angst after i posted smth spicy HAHAH. guys plsplspls i encourage all the comments. hell, even a single one inspired me to write this little drabble. i may not reply to all of them, but i read and cherish them with all my heart 🩷 i've been writing more these days and it's interactions and comments that drive me to write even more for this fandom so please, i'm on my knees.

tags: @sweetconnoisseurgardener, @winter-world, @bunbunbread, @thypplover.

"sweetheart— you're..." his voice, unsure and wispy, comes out in little quivers. wide, blue eyes stare at the silhouette of your all-too familiar, yet foreign body.

how could he not remember you, when it is only your the thrum of heartbeats that he cherishes in his memories? the shape of your hips in his hands? the puff of your cheeks he burned into his retina every time he blinks?

yet now you're too stiff, too sharp and out of place, a hint of expertise on your pose, as if it's ready to fight him, conner, your once beloved.

what happened...?

there was no softness in the shape of your shadow, no hands that fight the urge to run to him just to feel the warmth of his body, no yielding gazes fluttering up nor your nuzzled head rested on his chest.

the scar of your sudden break-up burns into his flesh the more he witnesses you come out of the shadow of the walls you're disguised in.

too different, too familiar, the seams of his poorly stitched heart rip once he sees you, once angelic now looking like you've fallen from grace, still so beautiful, still so poised yet poisonous— if he couldn't handle losing you back then, then he couldn't handle your reunion now.

he couldn't, no, not ever. he could never handle just how truly beautiful his soulmate is.

and right in front of him stands you... and he falls in love all over and over again, yet feels the fresh sting of heartbreak from all these years ago.

conner couldn't believe what was in front of him.

"what? i'm alive? changed? somethin' else? don't be so afraid to tell me, kon-baby." a new accent, from a different city, spoken in that alluring voice of yours, too gritty and sharp as a knife. cold, unforgiving eyes stare up at him like he was in enemy lines. there was no sentiment in your glare, no softness nor familiarity in your words.

it chips away at his heart, little by little.

there weren't enough words to describe how much he missed you, the way your sullen tone lightens at his presence, how you perfectly fit like a puzzle piece in his arms, your head burrowing into his neck and smelling his perfume. you say it's the only scent that calmed you down, that made your heart flutter 'cause it reminds you of him, it made his heart buzz at the sweet words.

ever since then, kon always made sure to wear that treasured perfume every single day after your confession, even after your disappearance did the use of that scent surge into his apartment, invading his sensitive nostrils like the plague. the fear of forgetting you, the memories of your precious giggles and calm intakes of air with him echoing all day in his solitude without you.

he misses those soft moments.

but this? whoever this is standing face to face with him is not you, the sharp sting of your words sound completely foreign, your laughter, once fluttery, now sounds manic as if your past affection for him was you merely telling a joke. the nickname you called him, his nickname that you oh-so fondly call him tastes bitter in his tongue.

unbelievable... there's something different about you, it's not the same you he's looking at anymore. he takes away his sunglasses hanging just below his nose, yet the image doesn't change.

you don't change into your old self, his heart breaks just a bit more.

yet he couldn't find the heart to attack you, standing frozen in his spot to take in your still-so ethereal form in his eyes, afraid that you'll disappear again; despite tim's warning signals on the new face of a villain.

he couldn't, because it's still you he's looking at.

you're still his sweetheart.

even if you don't share the same feathery whispers your voice had all those years ago. it's sharper, it stings conner's ears hearing the parched grate of your words, but his hearing still picks up the familiar innocence hidden behind it all; stained by the putrid world, corrupted until what's left was evil that he was so accustomed to dealing with.

he doesn't know what hurts more: your dead eyes losing its once angelic light, or how the same eyes stares at him like there was no romance that sparked between the narratives of your lives in the first place.

"... oh, (name)-sweetie, please tell me what happened...?" it hurts to talk, he had thought those therapy sessions with his other teammates could help him rebound with the break-up, but years of anguish don't heal, it builds up and it breaks at the slightest reminder of the past. it'll hurt either way, nothing helps.

nobody could truly control your true feelings. not even yourself.

losing his first, his one and only true love, that made him feel like he's deserving of existing in this world, that united the scars of being human and kryptonian; never knowing which side you're bound to be— calling him by his name, so sweetly and lovingly, the flutter of your voice curing all ails, feeling like the soft breeze of spring kissing his skin.

the sudden withdrawal of it all, the emptiness and befuddling emotions that comes after, losing someone who held the lock and key to your heart, whilst no answers are supplied in your thoughts from all the mind-numbing questions swirling inside your head—

it could break anyone, and it had broken conner.

conner just couldn't bury the tightening knot on his chest, how his throat seems to close in on itself, or the tears that began stinging the corners of his eyes.

"well you said it yourself, baby. people change, time changes and nothin' ever stays the same."

you speak as if your words are absolute, you don't even bother pretending to be happy at your reunion, you don't see conner as your beloved anymore.

"this is... this shouldn't be..."

happening? or was there a clawing notion in his heart that hoped with even your eventual change, that you'll still cherish him with all your soul despite the transformation, despite turning into a wanted criminal from across the nation?

because he could've understood, the neglect from your family, the emotional and even physical abuse, the misunderstood arguments and unheard requests. in all your special occasions, your birthdays, hell, even graduations and important milestones in your life, you're mistreated and broken. conner understood what it's like being rejected by the people you idolize, it's what made him notice you in the first place.

he could've helped hide you in a more safer threshold so nobody could hurt you anymore. all he really wanted was to be your sole exception to the corruption in your heart.

after all, he's still a man in love, bound by the precious memories and the neverending affection he feels for you, his soulmate. nothing in the world can change his dedication to see you smile, no matter how crooked and sadistic it is now— he was charged by your presence alone; you are, and always will be his motivation.

but you don't cherish him, you're different in a way that treats him differently too. and he doesn't want that, he doesn't want to be denied your love that he seeks in this cruel world. you're the only person in this universe that could topple the walls in his heart.

conner doesn't want to stand in his spot, looking at you any longer. at your cruel, yet beautifully glowing eyes and your body that he wishes to rest his clammy fingers on. he wants to kiss you, he wants to touch and feel you personally, forget all the mishaps you both went through just to spend another night alone together under the moonlight, dancing with the breeze of gotham's polluted and singing to the shouts of its citizens...

now all the questions form into a singular entity. it's what shatters his heart to pieces in the end, because you refuse to answer still. you refuse with a sadistic smile and a harsh laugh, going off in a tangent he couldn't understand; he wishes to understand with what's going on in your brain.

conner just wants to understand you, even if you're different now, because he still loves you.

so what happened to you...?

who took away conner's precious sweetheart?

[mekakitsune]

alt universe!jinx/powder x fem reader - nsfw - minors dni

a quiet, relaxing night in your apartment was all you wanted after a gruelling day at the academy– the thought of cozing up to kick off your winter break plagued your mind the entire day, leaving you sluggish and unfocused.

the sound of a soft knock rang through the room, and you stand with a stretch– groaning as your joints pop, you move to open the door. swinging it open you are met with your typical-friday night accomplice.

"geez, took you long enough, its freezing." your girlfriend, powder, now changed out of her uniform into something more fitting for the cold winter evening at home. she looked cute, as always. stepping aside she slips in the door and into your living room. wordlessly, she kicks off her boots and sheds her jacket, flopping down onto your couch with an exhausted sigh. you join her, giggling as she immediately flops her head into your lap.

your fingers find her blue hair that fell just below her jaw, stroking it softly. she melts into your touch, relishing in the warmth of your thighs as you both enjoy the tender moment you longed for.

"this week felt so, so long. god it actually felt never ending." she pouted, it was clear the two of you were finally feeling the effects of your all nighter study sessions and countless energy drinks from the past week or so. exam season would surely be the death of you both.

"mhm, i know, but we're all done for now yeah? feels good to be able to relax." you say with a rather tired smile, fingers running through her hair. "plus, now youve got me all to yourself."

she perks up at that, eyes peeling open to look at you. her lips form a grin and she sits up suddenly, situating herself so she was now in your lap, straddling you.

"mhm, i do. and i have decided youre not going anywhere the entire weekend. ive booked you in advance." she smiles, arms slinging around your neck.

"i'll be sure to tell anyone who needs anything that sorry, i cant, because my girlfriend has decided to keep me hostage in my own apartment." you smirk at her, hands holding her hips.

"guilty." she shrugs with a grin, making you giggle.

she leans her head into your neck, her breath tickling your skin. her lips begin to place soft kisses along the length of your neck and jaw, making you feel like putty beneath her. her teeth catch your skin lightly, making your breath hitch and her to laugh under her breath.

"sorry, youre just so cute when youre sleepy." she smiles sheepishly at you, her own tired eyes trailing to your lips. you roll your eyes, a sort of lovesick grin on your features. she leans foward slightly and you meet her half way, lips pressing against each other softly. she sighs into the kiss as your hands find her back, rubbing soothingly through the fabric of her sweater.

before long, the kiss grows more desperate. she shifts her hips softly into yours, sharp inhales and whines sounding from her. her tongue prods at your bottom lip and you allow her access with complete ease. her breath quickens and her hands fist at your shirt as she explores your mouth.

breathless, you tug her back softly to break the kiss. her cheeks are flushed and her lips are wet, making that fire in your core grow.

her hands move you your shoulders, gently massage tender flesh as she pressed herself into you, hips flush with your own. her position allows you to latch onto her neck, sucking and kissing at her pale skin. her hands slide down your front and up your shirt, the contact of her icy skin on yours making you shudder.

"jesus powder, your hands are freezing." you hiss slightly, pouting against her as she laughs. "sorry baby, you'll help me warm up, right?" she smiles sweetly as her fingers brush further, tracing the under side of your breasts to tease you. your back arches into her as her fingers move, hands now grabbing at your boobs. you pull back and pull the fabric over your head, allowing her full access to your chest.

she leans in without hesitation, lips searing your skin. she kisses her way along your collarbones, moving down to your tits. she presses another kiss to the supple flesh and wraps her lips around your nipple, sucking gently. your hips grind into her and a gasp falls from your lips, her other hand coming up to pinch at your other nipple.

"baby, need you...hah– please." you gasp below her, her mouth assaulting your skin, leaving marks behind in its wake.

"so needy already, sweetheart? youre so cute.." she coos, despite her obvious evil grin.

you chose not to respond to her teasing, rather, your hands find her own sweater, tugging at it to signal her to rid herself of it. giggling, she does so, letting it fall onto the ground behind her. she dives in again, her skin warm against yours and this time shes guiding you to lay down beneath her. she kisses along your chest again, lips moving as she slides down to nip at the skin of your stomach.

"tell me what you need, pretty girl.." she mumbles against your skin. her fingers toy with the waist band of your pants.

"need you, want your mouth...please" your hips shift towards her, desperate for her touch. without needing to be asked twice, her fingers hook the fabric and slide them down your legs, removing your underwear as well.

"hm, i think i can do that for you..." she grins, leaning in to press a kiss to your clit, making you shudder with a quiet moan. her tongue begins moves softly, tracing shapes along your cunt. she moans quietly to herself at the taste of you, her own pussy aching to be touched.

her lips wrap around your clit, causing you to gasp and lace your fingers in her hair.

"f-fuck baby, keep going..." you moan, watching her as she eats you out passionately. her own fingers trail down, slipping into the farbic of her sweats, tracing along her soaked cunt. she groans at the friction, sending vibrations through you, making you whimper.

her fingers find her clit, timing her strokes with that of her tongue, clenching and panting against you. her mouth continues, flicking your clit between her lips as she drinks you in completely.

"taste so good baby...fuck- such a good pussy." she speaks against you. the throbbing knot in your stomach begins to grow intense as your thighs begin to shake.

from the looks of it, shes close too. furiously rubbing at her clit as she whimpers and moans into your cunt.

"m'gonna cum, fuck" your fingers tighten in her hair, making her moan again.

"mhm...me too baby, keep goin...shit.." her words are muffled, but she doesnt care. not when her orgasm is crashing over her violently. the moans falling from her lips get caught between your thighs, sending you over the edge as well.

the two of your ride out your highs, shuddering at the growing overstimulation when she finally pulls away, removing her hand from her pants as she does.

with a tired smirk, she hovers over you, bringing her soaked fingers to your lips. you take them in your mouth without a second thought, whimpering quietly at the taste of her. she stares at you with amazement for a moment before she removes her fingers, immediately replacing them with her lips. the kiss is slow, sleepy, and full of affection as she lays herself on top of you.

"thank you for being here this week, and for that..." her cheeks are flushed, chest slightly heaving still.

a soft laugh leaves your lips, followed by a yawn.

"mm, i should be thanking you, yknow. probably would have gone crazy if you werent here..." you whisper, fingers brushing her bangs out of her eyes.

"yeah right...says the genius." she huffs a laugh, laying her head on your chest.

she cuddles into you deeper, and you finally allow your body to fully relax. drinking in each others warmth, you drift off into a much needed sleep, together.

[darkmatilda]

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a spontaneous idea for a new year's eve party doesn't seem so brilliant anymore when there's so much to do and so little time left. and when the sound of fireworks wakes you up with flashbacks. but luckily, reid's right there with you. as always.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer x newbau!female reader, baking cookies together, the beginning is really chaotic, reader has a panic attack and flashbacks from time when she was a hostage (in my previous fic but there's no need to read it before. no major references as usual), mention of shooting. penelope garcia slaying. glasses read one more time (will i ever get bored of this?) a lot of jokes (successful i hope) most of the fic is very fluffy, inspired by new year's eve by taylor swift (i recommend listening to this song on repeat while reading)

𝐚/𝐧: this is probably one of my fav fics of mine, i literally cried while writing (because there's no one to clean up the bottles with me on new year's day)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 6k

“Okay, I think we’ve got everything. Although, do you think we have enough types of cheese...?”

“There’s so much cheese it won’t even fit on one board, Pen.”

“Exactly, so maybe we should make two…”

“Hey, look. Do you think these glasses will work for champagne?”

“Two boards—one with cheese, more savory, and the other with…”

“Because I don’t think I have any others. Jesus, I need to wash these; they’re fucking sticky…”

“…and on the second one, we’ll arrange the cookies we’re going to bake…”

“Shit, the cookies. I’m not even sure if this oven works…”

“Wait, did we even buy olives? Fuck, how could we forget olives…”

“Screw the olives! Wash the glasses if you can, and I’ll check the oven…”

“What do you mean, screw the olives?! How the fuck are you supposed to make a cheese board without olives?!”

For about twenty minutes now, you and Garcia had been running around the kitchen in your house, talking over each other non-stop and hardly listening. A grocery bag sat unopened on the kitchen island, you hadn’t started preparing a single one of your overly ambitious snacks, and some pesky gremlin was doing flips on your shoulder, whispering tauntingly, you know it’s highly likely the milk in your fridge is expired, right?

Well, that’s just how it goes when you decide to throw a New Year’s Eve party spontaneously—on New Year’s Eve afternoon. Honestly, it was a fucking miracle so many people agreed to come. And once they said yes, there was no backing out. You had to organize everything: the food, decorating your house, outfits, makeup. With every passing minute, Penelope was transforming into a full-blown organizational beast, completely unsure what to tackle first. The two cute space buns on top of her head had fallen apart, leaving her blonde curls loosely cascading down her neck—not that she even seemed to notice.

You, on the other hand, were losing steam fast. All you wanted was to curl up in a ball on the floor and eat cheese without bothering to arrange it on a board in an aesthetic way. Two types of people under time pressure. 

To make matters worse, the doorbell rang.

“Coming!” you shouted, your voice so filled with irritation that, if you were in the visitor’s shoes, you’d have turned and run for your life. Quickly, you opened the fridge and sniffed the damned milk. No signs of spoilage, thank fuck. There was no way you had time to go back to the store…

You made it to the door, and halfway there, you realized you were still holding the open bottle of milk you had forgotten to put back. You sighed, turned around, and with a double dose of rage, anxiety, and sheer insanity, you finally opened the door.

"Hey," Reid greeted, standing on the doorstep. His glasses were perched on his nose, and his hair was slightly tousled from the rather strong wind that day. Without even looking at you, he pointed to the brown bag hanging from his shoulder. "So, about those board games, when you invited me, I decided to look something up online and ordered one that I think you'll like. It's inspired by the works of Jane Austen, and players take on the roles of characters from the Regency era..."

"Is someone trying to sell you something, or what?" You heard Penelope's voice from the kitchen.

"Anyway, I ordered it, but unfortunately, it didn’t arrive, so I just grabbed chess and..."

You could only manage a confused shake of your head.

"Reid, with all due respect, but what the hell are you talking about?"

He looked at you as if you’d asked him for the juicy details of raccoon marital life.

"You invited me over for New Year’s," he reminded you, frowning slightly, as if wondering whether he’d gotten something wrong—like the day, maybe. "Me and Garcia. We were supposed to play board games..."

Your mouth dropped open as you suddenly remembered he was absolutely right. You had invited him. For board games. And then forgot to cancel after you’d all decided to spend the evening in a completely different way.

"Give me just a second," you said, and without waiting for a reply, slammed the door in his face.

Then you screamed. Stomping your foot like a frustrated child. Why, oh why, did you have the memory of a goldfish? Forgetting literally everything, from buying those damn olives to canceling this meeting. Why did the last day of the year have to suck so much? Why couldn’t anything in your life just go smoothly?

"The plans have… slightly changed," you explained with an apologetic smile when you reopened the door. 

Reid rocked slightly on his heels, his hand clenched around the strap of his bag. He had clearly heard what happened after you closed the door and looked as though he was debating whether to hand you a note with the number of a good psychiatrist.

"But that doesn't mean I'm kicking you out," you assured him quickly. "I’m really, really glad you decided to come, seriously. So, sorry about how things turned out. But still—will you come in? Garcia's here."

He shrugged and followed you inside.

"What exactly does plans have changed mean?" he asked.

He didn’t look around the room—he’d been to your house countless times before. Lately, for the past few months, with an increasing frequency. But he did stare curiously at a disheveled Penelope, who was busy loading glasses into the dishwasher.

"Well, we met up for lunch," she began explaining without even turning to face him. You didn’t waste the little time you had either, pulling ingredients for cookies out of the fridge. "We talked a bit about Derek and Elle spending New Year’s Eve in the Maldives. And our princess here decided that she wasn’t going to spend the evening in a nerdy way, playing nerdy board games, with two nerds like us..."

"I didn’t say that!" you protested indignantly.

"...while they’re sipping cocktails on the beach and having a great time. And so, it turned out we’re throwing a party."

The explanation came to an end, and Reid listened to it all without much emotion on his face, something you caught out of the corner of your eye. But you didn’t expect him to be devastated. After all, it wasn’t as if you had canceled an event the two of you had been counting down to like prisoners marking days on their cell walls, eagerly awaiting freedom.

Standing by the kitchen island, he glanced at you, then at Garcia, then behind him, as if unsure whether he should stay or politely excuse himself and leave.

“You’re invited, by the way,” you clarified, because while you thought it was obvious, maybe it wasn’t so clear to him. “So, yeah, if you’re planning to come, you have no choice—you have to help me bake these cookies. Get with it.”

You tossed him one of the aprons. The other you began tying around your waist.

Reid caught the object you threw, looked at it with furrowed brows, then shifted his gaze to you, a hint of something resembling a smile flickering across his face.

“Who said I’m planning to come?” he asked.

His mock-offensive tone didn’t quite match what he was doing—slipping the apron over his head. It made you snort.

“Oh, what, got other plans, pretty boy?” Penelope teased. “Some wild party at the book club?”

She leaned over to close the dishwasher. But instead of straightening up, she froze in place, staring at her reflection in the machine’s door. Her jaw dropped, and she gasped in something close to horror.

“What happened to my hair? I look... I look like…”

“Like a homeless caveman who just barely won a fight with lightning?” you suggested in a syrupy tone. “But only just.”

“Excuse me for a moment,” she huffed.

She left the kitchen, the sound of her heels echoing as she headed upstairs to the bathroom. Reid turned to himself with a smug expression.

“Does a caveman qualify as homeless if he lives in a cave…”

You interrupted him with your outstretched hand, pressing it to his mouth.

“Cookies, Reid. Not philosophy.”

You were planning to bake simple butter cookies in the shape of stars, and then decorate them with edible glitter. You started pulling out all the necessary ingredients from the fridge and cabinets, which were soon covering the countertop in your kitchen. You stood side by side, and your eyes were drawn to the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, barely touching his wrists. Unable to resist, you grabbed his hand and started rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.

"You could've just told me..." he began, looking at you in surprise.

You merely shrugged. You found yourselves facing each other, and you nodded towards his other hand, which he gave you after a brief hesitation. Just like before, you rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, but this time much more slowly. As more of his skin appeared before your eyes, you gathered yourself to speak.

"I feel a bit bad about how things turned out with the games," you admitted, not looking up to meet his gaze. You focused on his hand, holding it by the knuckles.

"It's okay," he reassured you, his voice soft without a hint of reproach.

"I should've warned you earlier," you continued stubbornly. "Instead of doing it last minute. And, you know, if you don't want to come to this party, that's totally okay. I know you were expecting something different..."

"I was expecting to spend time with you," he interrupted, then paused to clear his throat. It was then that you realized you were still holding his hand. His fingers trembled slightly when you let go, and he immediately shoved it into his pocket—perhaps to hide it. "We can have a game night another time. On a different day. Like, this weekend, for example. If you'd want, of course. Not that I'm pressuring you..."

"I would like that," you assured him, looking up at him with a smile, amused by his over-explaining. It always charmed you. You used to think it was because you didn't know each other well and he still felt nervous around you, but as time passed, you came to realize that maybe that was just how he was. "Seriously. And it's not just because I feel guilty about how I left you hanging today. I'm genuinely curious about that game you ordered. It’s inspired by Austen's novels, right?"

He started to tell you more about it, while you both added the first ingredients into a large glass bowl. As he began to knead the dough with his hands, you leaned your elbow on the countertop, propping your chin on your hand, listening to him.

"...one of the symbols of excess in 17th century England was a dish called A Pie of a Thousand Birds..."

You wondered when the conversation had shifted to this topic, while Penelope was still in the bathroom.

 "...containing various kinds of birds, sometimes in different layers, cooked together. In the earliest records of this dish, it mentions anywhere from a dozen to several dozen birds such as quails, chickens, geese..."

Reid suddenly stopped when his gaze landed on you. He must have been so absorbed in kneading the dough and sharing this tidbit with you that he was completely unaware of the fact that you were staring at him.

You raised an eyebrow questioningly.

 "Is something wrong?"

"No," he quickly assured you, adjusting his glasses on his nose. He had a bit of dough on his skin, which seemed to escape his notice. He furrowed his brow, trying to remember where he'd left off. "And... quails..."

You couldn't bring yourself to tell him he'd already mentioned them. Instead of that, you moved from your spot, slowly lifting your hands off the counter and approached him to wipe away the stray bit of dough beneath his eye. Reid, wanting to make sure nothing else was left on his face, wiped it with his hand… which was completely covered in dough. At the sight of his expression when he realized what he had done, you couldn't help but burst out laughing, your head resting against his apron from the weight of it. Meanwhile, he desperately tried to wipe away the remnants using the clean skin of his forearms, muttering a few curses under his breath, which only made you laugh harder.

"I see you're having a great time," Penelope returned to the kitchen.

On top of her head were two cute buns once again, resembling little snails.

"The best," you corrected, undeterred, trying once more to wipe his face. This time, not as gently as before, until he flinched back under the pressure of your hand, scrunching his nose tightly.

You glanced at the clock, and your playful mood started to wane. There was still so much to do, and you rallied everyone into action. Penelope rolled up her sleeves to prepare the charcuterie boards (it turned out the olives were at the bottom of the bag), you got to work on the mini sandwiches, and Reid was busy cutting out star shapes from the rolled-out dough using a champagne bottle as a makeshift rolling pin.

“Oh, by the way, Pen,” you began, opening the heated oven to put in the first batch of cookies, “we’re still going to kiss at midnight, right?”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Nothing’s changed,” your friend replied, focused on arranging various types of cheese into the best possible combination.

Reid, meanwhile, was taking off his apron, folding it into a perfectly neat square, a frown of concentration on his face.

“Why kiss specifically at midnight?” he asked.

“You haven’t heard about that tradition?” you asked, surprised. “A kiss at midnight brings good luck in love and relationships for the whole next year. Skipping it means the opposite.”

“I didn’t know you were superstitious.”

“It’s just a gesture. Or maybe, better put, a symbol. But anyway, last year I was having a bit too much fun and passed out before midnight. And, well, I don’t think I need to tell you it wasn’t the best year for relationships. Or rather, the lack of them.”

“Doesn’t that mean you should kiss two people this year? One for the previous year and one for the current one?” Garcia suggested thoughtfully.

You mulled it over as well.

“Actually, that makes sense. But who?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone,” your friend assured you. “There’s bound to be some handsome volunteer. And if not, Reid could always be your backup option.”

You glanced at him briefly, biting your lip as you considered the suggestion. Funny enough, you hadn’t thought of him at all. Not because you found the idea of kissing him unpleasant or something you wouldn’t want to do. It was just… this tradition felt more like grabbing a random person, the first friend within reach. Something done without much thought—a gesture that, in this context, meant absolutely nothing serious.

Wait, but with Reid, would it mean something serious? Why the hesitation all of a sudden? You shook your head, dismissing the train of thought.

You looked at him again; he seemed to be making a deliberate effort to keep his gaze fixed on Penelope, not on you. Though as soon as he sensed you looking at him, he turned his eyes to meet yours, his expression unreadable.

“What do you think?” you asked before you could stop yourself. To ease the sudden, inexplicable tension, you added with a playful smile, “My entire romantic year would rest in your hands—or rather, on your lips. Would you be ready to take on such a sacrifice?”

“Think carefully, darling,” Penelope chimed in, pointing a finger at him. “Otherwise, we’ll all have to spend the next twelve months listening to her complain about how awful men are and how unlucky she is in love…”

“I’m starting to feel an unjustified amount of pressure,” Reid remarked cautiously. You kept staring at him, arms crossed over your chest as you stood near the oven, its orange glow casting a warm light across the kitchen.

“No pressure. And just so we’re clear, it’s not like I’m taking advantage of you. You’d benefit from this too. Unless, of course, you decide to kiss someone else—then, fine…”

“Considering I probably won’t know anyone else at this party? Slim chances…”

A snort escaped you before you could stop it. Both of them turned to you with curiosity.

“What I mean…” you began hesitantly, gesturing toward him. He was objectively handsome—maybe not every woman’s type, but then again, no man was. In your opinion, though, he absolutely was. There was something about his polished, intellectual demeanor that occasionally clashed with his sharp wit, creating a strangely magnetic allure. You gestured at him again, as if emphasizing your point. “Just try not rolling down the sleeves of that shirt until midnight, and you’ll see your chances aren’t that slim.”

He shook his head, utterly bewildered.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Oh, Pen, explain it to him,” you sighed in mock defeat.

“She means your forearms are sexy,” Penelope clarified without missing a beat.

Reid looked down at his hands as though they belonged to someone else entirely. You exchanged an amused glance with Garcia, and the whole midnight kiss topic… well, it drifted away. You weren’t entirely sure if he had agreed or not.

You wanted to casually bring it up again, but soon Penelope left the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone with a tray of freshly baked cookies ready to be decorated. Somehow, to your own surprise, you couldn’t summon the courage to ask.

"I bought edible glitter specifically for these cookies," you said, pulling a small box from the cupboard. "Apparently, it’s flavorless, but it’ll make the star-shaped cookies look magical. Maybe we should mix it with the icing?"

Reid stared intently at the label on the bottle, silent.

"What? What’s wrong?" you asked, suddenly worried.

"That’s not edible glitter," he announced. For a split second, you thought you saw the corner of his mouth twitch. But when he noticed your completely bewildered—and now slightly furious—expression, his face quickly returned to its usual stillness. "It’s just regular glitter."

"You’ve got to be kidding me, Reid."

"Since when does edible glitter contain polyethylene terephthalate and aluminum?"

You snatched the package out of his hands, and when his words were confirmed, you slapped your forehead.

"Did I just almost kill all my guests?"

"Maybe not kill them right away," he said, his tone comforting as he took the package back from your hands before you could hit yourself with it again. "Complications from eating include gastrointestinal irritation like vomiting, nausea, and possibly damage to the mucous membranes of the mouth..."

"You're not helping."

"Sorry."

For a moment, you both stood in silence, your gaze still fixed on the tray of cooling cookies.

"But this isn't the end of the world," Reid said gently after a moment. "They still have their... interesting shape. We can decorate them with regular icing. Draw something on them. They may not sparkle, but they'll be just as delicious. And that's probably the most important thing, right?"

You knew he was right, but still, there was a certain sadness in the way you nodded. It took you a while to realize how much you’d been obsessing over such a small thing. You let out a chuckle, and he did the same.

"And I even came up with an idea for what to do with the glitter," you announced after a moment, taking the open box in your hands. A bit of the shimmering particles landed on your outstretched palm, and Reid squinted when you blew on it, sending the glitter his way. "I’ll make you shine. You’ll match the rest of the decorations..."

When Penelope returned to the kitchen, she found herself in the middle of a full-blown war, not even a battle anymore. Reid had both of your hands raised and held still, preventing you from reaching for another handful of glitter. You tried to wriggle out of this trap, kneeing him or doing something, but it wasn't really working. So there you were, looking like you were caught in some kind of bizarre dance neither of you knew the steps to, but your half-smiling faces suggested you weren’t too bothered by it.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to get that glitter out of your hair until the next New Year’s Eve.

*

You had a rule to be careful with alcohol when the party was at your house.

 You preferred to make sure everything was running smoothly. Nothing slipped out of control — no one played baseball with your TV (although you hoped the adult crowd had outgrown that kind of entertainment), no one felt unwell or needed help. Moving between people, conversations, and laughter, asking if anyone needed anything or was having a good time, reminding everyone not to smoke inside. You didn’t notice when it all started to drain you. So much so that you decided to sneak away for a moment in the upstairs bathroom.

You just needed a little time alone, splashing cold water on your neck, playing a game on your phone for five minutes while sitting on the closed toilet seat. That’s all you needed.

Your bathroom had a window, usually left open. The room was on the second floor, so there was no chance anyone could be watching. You never worried about it. The window overlooked the yard of one of your neighbors, whom you didn’t even know. As you returned, you stood with your hands on the cool sink, your eyes half-closed from exhaustion but feeling a sense of relief.

Midnight was in fifteen minutes. The year was ending in fifteen minutes.

A lot has happened over the past twelve months. The most important, of course, was joining the BAU. A huge achievement for someone so young, always commented on with a surprised raise of the eyebrows, so much so that it still hadn’t fully sunk in for you. A fair amount, but still not enough, of cases solved, unsub caught, lives saved.

Apart from the professional achievements, there was also something you couldn’t add to your CV or your dating profile. Memories. The big ones, and the ones often overlooked. The countless smiles exchanged over office desks, the amused nudges of elbows, the hours spent in simple laughter. The nights, the ones spent dancing in clubs or at house parties, the ones in your friends' homes with bottles of wine passed from hand to hand and gossip flowing from your lips, one after the other, in a constant stream of surprised exclamations and sighs. There were also those spent in sad motels during business trips. Many of them, but it was the shabby ones that stuck with you the most. Narrow beds shared with Reid, because of his fear of the dark, which worsened in such places. Sometimes silly conversations and arguments, but also the more serious ones. Comforting. And, of course, you had to include the people around you, those you met this year, and those who have been with you for a long time. All the moments when you were happy, and all the ones when you cried. The books and movies. Those that disappointed you so much that you cursed them for days. Those that made you laugh until you choked, but also the ones that nailed you to the theater seat, your gaze vacant and your mind drifting somewhere on the waves of an existential crisis.

You thought about it all with a small smile on your lips

Unfortunately, when you focused on reflecting on the passing year, another memory hit you—one of those decidedly unpleasant ones. The one where, under the guise of normality, you found yourself in the middle of a robbery, becoming a hostage. And as you watched one body after another drop motionless to the floor, blood pooling around them.

The sink you were leaning against grew warm. Your hands were hot, sweating. You shook your head, trying to push away the uncomfortable memory. Why dwell on it? It was over, long over...

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a flash in your neighbor's yard. A bright spot rising into the air, even though it wasn't even midnight yet. What kind of idiot sets off fireworks before the New Year? What was the point of that?

You straightened up, an irrational sense of danger taking hold of you. As if that fired projectile was about to crash through your window, causing an explosion in the room. Absurd, you knew that. But then the sound hit. A blast, almost like a gunshot. A gunshot coming from an unknown direction, fading lights around you, and screams. You took a breath as another shot rang out. Fireworks lit up the night sky, a green glow spilling into your bathroom, painting your face. You stayed frozen, breath held, with your chest tight.

You knew you should move, shake off the state that the experience had put you in, but… you couldn’t. Although physically unharmed, in your own home, fear took control, robbing you of your agency. Your heartbeat quickened to an unnatural pace, a sickly rhythm. It paralyzed your limbs, one by one, while images kept flashing before your eyes, intensifying with each approaching shot.

Since your actions and most of your awareness remained beyond your control, you soon realized that you were sitting on the floor. And, worst of all, a silhouette cast its shadow over you. You flinched, expecting to see a pair of leather boots and a gun pointed at you.

“It’s just me,” came a quiet, familiar voice, somehow cutting through the wall that separated you from the world. “Me, Spencer. Sorry I came in, but you didn’t respond when I knocked... okay, that doesn’t really matter right now.”

He sighed and crouched down right in front of you, his forehead furrowed in concern. Hesitantly, he reached for your shoulder, lightly touching it, but you flinched the moment his hand moved.

“No touching, it’s okay. I understand, I get it. I understand... what you’re going through.” He spoke quietly and calmly, but you could see a hint of panic crossing his face as he carefully observed yours, choosing his words. He swallowed hard. “You’re really scared, your hands are shaking, you can’t... you can’t breathe. It’s a panic attack, you know what that means. And... it’s temporary. The important thing is to just breathe. I know it’s hard... but just try…”

The surrounding air seemed thick, like some dense gas filling your nostrils and painfully entering your lungs. You shook your head in refusal, not wanting to do it again.

"Slowly, they don’t have to be deep breaths. Just try to make them steady, okay? Please," he continued, settling down closer to you on the floor. He was also breathing the way he described, trying to demonstrate for you. Focusing on the rise and fall of his chest, you made another attempt. It went... better.

"Exactly like that. We're at a party now, remember? At your house. We baked cakes specially for the occasion. It's New Year's Eve and people are shooting fireworks... those are fireworks, just regular fireworks..."

The green glow crept in again through the window, covering and retreating from your two huddled forms on the floor like a tide. You focused on what he was saying, alternately keeping your eyes tightly shut and wide open. You preferred them closed—it was easier to listen to him that way. But when you closed them, it felt like he was so far away. You reached out with trembling hands, trying to touch him, to make sure he was really there in front of you. And before you realized it, you fell into his embrace, your hands clutching his back in panic with every new shot outside.

You could close your eyes; his presence and scent were with you. You could close your eyes, pretend it wasn’t happening, that you weren’t there.

But it didn’t stop. Reid whispered that it was midnight, and the next round of fireworks shot into the sky, sending those trembling sounds that rattled you. A part of your mind knew why this was happening, so why did your body still react this way?

You buried yourself deeper into his arms, feeling some weight on the top of your head—he must have rested his chin there. You kept trying to breathe, and by accident, you inhaled the scent of his neck, which, surprisingly, helped. One breath after another. In and out. His skin. Another shot outside. In and out.

It must have been many minutes before it finally stopped. You both ended up leaning against the wall, side by side. Your knees were pulled to your chest, his legs stretched out. From downstairs, through the floor, came the muffled sound of music, and that’s what you focused on. On that, and on counting the tiles on the neighboring wall, on the hands of Reid’s watch moving forward. On the details, helping you ground yourself.

"How do you feel now?" he broke the silence that had lasted for several minutes with a quiet question.

You pressed the back of your head to the wall behind you, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Better," you said after a moment. The sound from your throat was raspy, and you swallowed, pausing for a second. "Isn't it... isn't it a strange twist of fate that we're always there for each other when something bad happens to the other person?"

You kept your gaze fixed ahead, and from the corner of your eye, you saw him looking at you. Slowly, he shrugged.

"Isn't that what friendship is about?" he asked.

Then, you shrugged.

"Friendship," you repeated, turning the word around on your tongue. You shook your head slightly. "I guess so. I mean, I guess that's what it's about." For a moment, you paused, lightly licking your lips. Your mind was still clouded, and you struggled to form coherent sentences. "I completely forgot what I was talking about a moment ago. What was it about again?"

Reid smiled gently at the look on your face, the expression confused but calm. And then... his hand slowly dropped to the top of your head, gently stroking it and sliding down along your cheek, where it stopped.

"Friendship," he repeated slowly.

Suddenly, as if realizing something, he turned his head slightly, as if to pull his hand away, but you stopped him. You grabbed it, and even though it had moved away from your face, your cheek, you enclosed it in a gentle grasp with both of your hands, the way a shell embraces a pearl.

You noticed the time on his watch.

"It’s already past midnight," you remarked. "Do you think everyone’s too drunk to look for us, or do they just honestly not care what we've been doing in the bathroom for the past hour?"

He chuckled at your words, amused by your suggestive tone.

"Don’t want to go back?" he asked, making sure.

You immediately shook your head.

"Not yet. I like it here. And I guess I’m not ready," you said, the last part tinged with a slight embarrassment. He nodded understandingly, signaling that it was okay. You didn’t have to leave yet.

You sighed, probably for the hundredth time.

"Honestly, I’ve completely lost my party mood. We could’ve played those board games instead. When I think about the bottles I’ll have to clean up tomorrow, I just feel like I might puke."

"We'll be here. Me. And Garcia," he reminded you. "You thought we were just going to disappear together, expecting you to clean up all this mess by yourself?"

"It's not really your responsibility," you replied with a slight shrug. However, a small, grateful smile tugged at your lips. "It would have been enough if you helped me set it all up. Even if it meant the entire kitchen glittering with sparkles before the party even started."

"New Year’s Eve decorations."

"Right," you scoffed. "That I’ll never get rid of. It will always look like a place where My Little Pony ponies had an alcoholic binge."

As you continued to stare at his hand, lying limp on your lap, and at his watch, you realized something else. A thought that made you tilt your head back with a sigh.

"I missed midnight again," you groaned suddenly. "Third year in a row. Where am I supposed to find three people to kiss next year, when I couldn't even find two this time?"

"You did manage," Reid pointed out, frowning slightly. "Penelope. And if you're counting your backup option, that would be me too."

"Would you?" you asked, surprised.

Pleasantly surprised. This subject had slipped by so quickly that you were sure his final answer would have been a no. You glanced fleetingly at his lips. They were slightly parted, probably in the same way they would have been if everything had gone according to plan. If you had found yourselves facing each other under the full, colorful-blinking night sky.

He nodded slightly in response, his upper and lower lips meeting. You tore your gaze away from them and refocused on the rest of his face.

"Sure," he replied aloud. He was close, the words escaping him with a slight breath of his air. "I mean... I'd also like to have a good year. So far, it’s started well. Anyway... yeah. I don't mind if you extend my backup option subscription for next year too."

The way he phrased it amused you. you lowered your gaze for a moment with a smile. Then you nodded, turning your head back toward him.

"So I guess I have my lineup for next New Year's," you said, letting go of his hand to start counting on your fingers. Both of you only realized then that you had been holding it at all. "First, of course, my husband..."

"Husband?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

"I’m being very ambitious this year, Reid," you assured him, with mock seriousness. "Then Garcia, if she agrees again. But she probably will. Unless Derek gets in the way. Oh well, I’ll just send him to the tropics again. And then, number three, you."

"Your husband won’t mind if you kiss me?"

Something changed in his expression, and it was becoming harder for you to maintain eye contact. Your gaze kept dropping, as if it were searching for something against your will. Plus, the whole bathroom suddenly felt incredibly small, your movements slow, like in slow motion. You forced yourself to wave it off dismissively.

"He’ll understand," you said, forcing yourself to take a breath. You had forgotten again, but this time, it wasn’t panic. It was more about his face, so close to yours, the side of your head against the wall, your bodies nearly touching. "Well, he won’t have a choice. If he wants our marriage to last happily and forever, he’ll have to let me make up for all those lost years, those three missed kisses. Sorry... if I’m talking nonsense right now, just tell me, I don’t know what’s happening with me..."

When he kissed you, for a moment, you couldn’t find yourself. Even though everything had been leading to this, with your faces so close for the last twenty minutes, gazes repeatedly falling on each other's lips, it still surprised you. You sucked in a breath through your nose as his lips pressed into yours.

Only when his hand, the same one you had been playing with for so long, the one that had earlier caressed your cheek, fell back into the same place, carelessly resting and brushing the tips of his fingers against a small part of your ear, did you truly feel it. You squeezed your eyelids shut, placing your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. It wasn’t the kind of kiss you usually associated with New Year’s Eve, one you’d forget the next day or mention with a fleeting smile. Every thought of it was meant to bring overwhelming loneliness to your lips, to make you imagine it still lasting. It alternated between tasting you slowly and carefully and consuming you with the anticipation held captive between you.

You sighed softly against his lips, and he mirrored it when you briefly pulled away. Your breaths mingled, your faces still close, foreheads gently touching.

“I almost forgot,” you whispered, barely lifting your eyelids. “Happy New Year.”

He smiled, his lips brushing yours once more for a fleeting moment.

“May your wishes come true...or something like that.”

“Or something like that.” you whispered, completely distracted, before pulling him back to you again.

taglist: @she-wont-miss @mggslover @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony

@heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella @re1dsb1xch @trulymadlydarling

[suksatoru]

keigo's real laugh is nothing, if not music.

there's a front keigo uses when it comes to other people—a barrier he wasn't even aware existed. his faux laugh was easygoing. it was short, and it was charming. he used it whenever he was talking to the higher ups or his colleagues. hell, he used it when he spoke to anyone. he's never been able to share the intimacy of a real laugh with another person before.

secretly, he was envious of those strangers he'd hear every once in a while. whether it was on patrol, or if he was just strolling into a coffee shop—ordinary citizens, people, humans, we're always laughing around him.

it could be huffs of air, odd squeaks or giggles—people with heaving chests, people chuckling, people snorting, people wheezing—but keigo knew a real laugh when he heard one.

which was odd, because he hadn't heard his own real laugh until you.

you're tucked into keigo's side, half awake and half asleep as you stumble forward. your eyes are barely open—and you're so drunk that keigo can already imagine the headache his poor baby is going to have tomorrow morning

"c'mon songbird, up up up."

he takes off your clothes and makeup, changing you quickly into your nightgown as you talk. you babble on about anything and everything that comes to your mind as he works—keigo kneels in front of you, smiling softly as he slowly unravels your dress and takes off your silvery shiny heels—he pulls on your nightdress, and grabs your favorite fluffy socks before tugging them up and over your feet

"kei baby," you whisper, and he glances up at you as he finishes taking off the last bit of your jewelery. he places your earrings into the little gold box you have on his desk as his warm hands wrap around your waist. he hums quietly as you suddenly place your palms flat on his chest, shoving him

he falls onto the bed with a soft oof! before sending you a confused smile

"shh...let me think, kei."

keigo folds his legs, amusement shining bright in his eyes as he watches you. your hair falls from its updo in wisps, framing your face as you stand in deep thought near the edge of your shared bed—hand on your jaw as you tilt your head

your smirk forms slowly. it's small, sly, silly and so drunk as you suddenly kneel onto the bed. you crawl towards keigo and fasten your knees on both sides of his hips—straddling him as he blinks up in surprise, not expecting your warm mouth to begin trailing kisses up his neck

sexy, is all keigo can think as a soft sigh escapes his lips. he's just about to kiss you back—when suddenly, you speak up.

"are you my appendix? because i have this funny feeling riiiight here that makes me feel like i should take you out." you whisper seductively, gliding his palm towards your tummy and under your nightgown

keigo blinks once. twice. before he stutters with his response. he tries to form even just one word—but he can't. and suddenly, he's falling apart—he's laughing so hard that he can't fucking breathe.

you blink in response, tilting your head adorably in confusion. you thought that was a good pick up line! but keigo's face is flushed for an entirely different reason other than being flustered, and his lips are stretched into a toothy grin. you're concerned for the lack of oxygen in his lungs when he's suddenly wheezing, and god, his eyes are shining with tears.

"oh-oh baby, i fucking love you."

you're slapping his arm, whining and pouting about how he ruined the moment. but your tone—your very serious face while uttering the absolute worst pick up line keigo has ever heard has him struggling to breathe in his fits of laughter

but you can't even try to be mad. because keigo's eyes are crinkling with genuine joy, and his hands are pressing you to his chest, and this laugh is so authentic—it bubbles all the way from his belly, so heartfelt and silly that you can't help but giggle along with him

"it was good, right? are you feeling—heh, turned on?"

keigo's smile is breathtaking. no wonder he's on so many magazine covers every month. finally—he leans forward, pressing his warm mouth against yours in a soft kiss as he cradles your face with both of his palms

"yeah, baby. never felt more hot and bothered... you know, 'm gonna marry you one day." he murmurs against your lips as you squirm in his lap

"nuh uh. who said i'll say yes?"

he laughs again. it's softer this time, and he maneuvers you carefully back into bed. you look like an angry kitten when you glare at him, but he only grins in response as he tucks you in—tugging the soft comforter up and over your body before getting into bed himself. he pulls you on top of him, gliding his hand up the back of your thigh all the way up until he's at the base of your spine

"you make me very happy, ya'know that songbird?"

you hum in reply, eyes already drooping close as your hold on keigo tightens just the slightest bit. his wings naturally fold to wrap around you—cocooning you in his hold.

he can see you're too tired to respond, your eyes are already slipping close when he presses a kiss onto your forehead

he admires you quietly, thanking the cosmos for allowing him to have this one good thing in life. you're drooling all over his shirt, and keigo wouldn't ever wish to have someone else laying beside him at night.

[thepixelelf]

warnings: domestic animals. tags: established relationship. christmas stuff. wc: 869

this has been in my drafts since dec 2023 and I realized it was collecting dust so I wanted to just roll up my sleeves and finish it so... here you go!

[a little thing called bad timing] Everyone knows that Seungcheol is a dog person -- you most of all. There's not a day that goes by without him turning his phone to face you with Kkuma's adorableness on the screen, sent to him by his parents. Of course, you love those pictures. Kkuma is an angel, and if you were the jealous type, you'd probably be wary of just how much Seungcheol pampers her, but luckily, you're not. In fact, you absolutely understand his behaviour. Before your family's cat passed away when you were younger, you're pretty sure you took about a million pictures of her just... existing.

That said, when Seungcheol not-so-subtly hinted that he wanted a dog last Christmas, you had to let him down easy. Your apartment at the time wasn't pet friendly, and you honestly weren't in a place financially to support a puppy with the love and attention one would deserve. Seungcheol's pout back then almost broke your heart, but he knew you were right, especially when you said you couldn't afford a cat, either, even if you wanted one.

This year, though, you moved to a new building together -- where pet allowance wasn't a choosing factor, but an added bonus -- with much more space in your apartment. And earlier this fall, you got the promotion you've been gunning for since you got your new job.

Which leads you to now. Everyone knows Seungcheol is a dog person. Everyone also knows you're a cat person. But the adorable black and white puppy in your arms has completely won you over with its yips and jumps, the way it climbs straight into your lap when you sit down, and its adorably glimmering eyes. A friend of a friend's dog had puppies, and when they asked if you knew anyone interested, you thought of your own glimmery-eyed partner. It was about time.

There are still quite a few days until Christmas, but you're sure that if Seungcheol had a choice, he'd want to meet this precious pup sooner than later. You were lucky that Seungcheol told you he had to stay later at work today, meaning you could pick up the puppy from your friend and acclimatize her to your apartment before he comes home. You've been spending the time decorating, as well, and you consider the tinsel in your hand for a second.

"Hey girl," you say, crouching down and scratching your new puppy's head. "How do you feel about wearing a little gift-wrap bow?"

She doesn't answer, of course, because she's a dog, but you chuckle at the adorable tilt of her head anyway.

"Yeah, I agree. Too cheesy."

The familiar sound of the front door getting unlocked makes you lift your head. "Oh, he's here." You lift your finger to your lips in a shush even though the puppy obviously has no idea what that means, and you scoop her into your arms.

From where you're standing in the kitchen area, the front door is just around a corner and out of sight. One more time, you give the puppy a conspiratorial grin before peeking just your head around the corner.

"Welcome home--"

"Hey, I'm back--"

Your jaw drops as you take in your boyfriend, or rather, the crate he's poorly hiding behind his legs, and the giant, shiny red bow stuck to the top of it.

Seungcheol smiles the way he always does when he comes home and sees you. "What are you doing hiding back there? C'mere, I got something for you."

You don't budge. "Is that...?"

Understanding that you aren't coming closer, Seungcheol just chuckles and brings the crate out in front of him. The front grate reveals a fluffy, orange kitten behind it.

You gasp. "You didn't!"

He shrugs. "I thought, since you've been missing your childhood cat recently, and we got this new apartment..."

"Cheol, I..."

"Did I read it wrong?" Seungcheol's eyes shine with worry and doubt. When you can't find the words to explain yourself, he continues. "I'm sorry. I should've asked, I know. Minghao knew somebody looking for homes for kittens and I just thought about how much you like Wonwoo's cats and--"

The puppy in your arms has finally had enough of hiding, and she barks, hopping to the ground. She trots over to Seungcheol to thoroughly investigate the shoes he's yet to take off.

"Oh," he says simply, eyes wide at the surprise house guest. "Oh!" Carefully, he sets the crate on the bench you have next to the door, out of reach of the excited puppy. He crouches down and pets her with both hands. "Hello," he coos. "Aren't you precious?"

Your heart warms at the sight, especially when the kitten curiously paws at the door of the crate instead of cowering away at the sound of a dog.

Seungcheol looks up at you, delighted. "Who's this?"

Just like he did when you asked him about the kitten, you shrug. "Merry Christmas?"

He must've suspected as much. His smile widens as he stands, and he holds his arm out for you to come to his side. You wrap your arms around him and giggle when he presses a hundred kisses to your cheek, while the puppy bounces in excitement at your feet.

"Seungcheoool," you whine, though to say you don't like his attention would be a total lie.

His smile widens until his eyes become your favourite crescent moons, and he locks his hands together behind you. "You know," he teases with a playful tilt of his head. "I've always dreamed of having twins."

[izvmimi]

cw: comfort, minimal hurt. implied break/break-up with retained feelings on both sides.

Midoriya is nothing if not persistent, and you have to hand it to him, he knows exactly how to pinpoint the soft center of your very heart. 

(Alternatively, perhaps all of it is soft for him, much to your chagrin, but that’s an issue to settle in due time.)

You can see from the inside of your apartment that he is standing at the front door, an overly ornate boxed and ribboned cake in his hands, and notably still clad in his hero suit, rocking back and forth slowly on his heels as he waits for you to open the door. He must have just gotten off patrol, you figure, as it is close to ten p.m. but in just a little over 2 hours, it will be Christmas and he should be at home with family, or perhaps someone that he loves, not here at your doorstep making another desperate bid for attention. 

You didn’t expect to see anyone tonight.

Exhausted from your own late shift, you’d immediately changed into pajamas, deciding that tomorrow’s hotpot dinner with Class 1A and a call to your family overseas would be as much Christmas as you would allow yourself to have. Your home is barely decorated, a simple wreath on the outside of your door being the limit of your effort for cheer (although the few scattered gifts in the corner of your living room from friends may add an extra element of festivity despite your best efforts, or lack thereof). By no means are you a Grinch, but Izuku must have the wrong door and wrong set of expectations.

He knocks again and you watch, deciding how believable it would be for you to pretend to go to bed. As you contemplate, you can see him pull out his phone and text, and you aren’t exactly surprised when your phone vibrates a few moments later, but you are surprised by the message.

Merry Christmas! If you don’t open the door, I’ll just leave the cake out for you, but I think it would taste even better if we shared it.

He knows you’re wide awake. You open the door quickly, your cheeks hot with embarrassment, but he’s unsurprised, smiling widely at you.

“Hey.”

His generous smile makes your stomach turn. 

“Why are you here, Midoriya?”

His smile doesn’t flicker in the least; rather, it widens.

“I wanted to see you. Can I come in?”

You’ve already let him in naturally, so it’s almost patronizing that he asks. You follow him inside, watching him take his shoes off at the genkan before asking any more questions, and he quickly deposits the cake at the kitchen table, before looking back at you. 

Your arms are crossed over your oversized T-shirt, just as wrinkled as the cotton shorts that peek underneath. Izuku considers for a moment that perhaps he is overstepping and frowns.

“Were you going to bed?”

You shake your head no. “You look like you’re coming right off the street, is everything okay?”

Izuku nods. “Perfect. I thought if I got home and changed first I’d be here too late, and I’ve been holding onto this bad boy since the bakery closed at 6pm so I thought my luck was about to run out.”

You glance at the strawberry sponge cake that looks somehow still pristine through the clear packaging and wonder if he just had a really uneventful night or he just took a special amount of attention to making sure nothing came to harm it. 

The idea of him holding it close to his chest makes you scrunch your face.

“Christmas Eve is for dates.”

Izuku’s emerald-like eyes are bright and hopeful as he agrees, as if you’re stating the obvious.

“Yeah. I’m thinking I came to the right place.”

Despite yourself, you bite your lower lip, the warmth in your cheeks now spreading to your ears. Unable to look at him any longer, you go to your cupboard and search for forks and plates. He makes his way to the kitchen sink as you fumble around to wash his hands, grabbing a few napkins on his way back to the table.

Izuku thanks you as you slice equal pieces for the two of you then waits, expectantly, until you bring the first bite to your lips before he does so himself. There’s something about the way that he watches your lips move that has you feeling a little too seen, but some of that has always been his natural superpower, quirkless or not. 

Observation. Knowing you as if he could sense your soul, and responding accordingly.

“Is it good?” he asks, as you take another eager bite, and you nod.

“Amazing,” you admit, and he beams, smiling from ear to ear. You expect him to give you details of where he got it or how but he chooses to say nothing instead, allowing you space to speak first.

You keep quiet as you eat at first, but find yourself looking at him a little too long, fixating on the way his suit spandex fits a little too snugly at the shoulders these days, and how thick his bicep is for the simple act of lifting a fork to his mouth. You consider for a moment that perhaps you should simply do it for him, but dispel that thought with a bit of shame.

You’re supposed to be playing hard to get, even if the fact of the matter is that you’ve been gotten, long ago perhaps even. 

How long will you continue to do this? He’s already told you he’ll do anything he can to win your heart back, even if it’s barely his fault he lost it in the first place.

You cut yourself another slice.

“Izuku, I still need more time,” you finally admit in a small voice. Izuku doesn’t look up from his cake slice, and you can tell this time it’s because he is still somewhat upset by your words, but he hums in assent.

“I understand.”

There’s the smallest waver in his voice that makes your heart wrench, even if it’s just for a moment.

The strawberry slices in every bite sweeten the bitter taste in your mouth regardless, and perhaps the truth is you’ll never truly know how to conceive of his name in your mouth as anything other than the finest sugar.

“Izuku…” you whisper again.

He looks at you directly in the eyes this time, warm and attentive. You’re reminded of the first time he told you he loved you, then the second, then the third, then more.

You set your plate down and come around the table, and as if he knows - he always knows - he pulls back his chair, and you find yourself settling into his lap, your arms around his neck.

Perhaps by time, you meant a matter of seconds.

Your head tilts upwards and your lips meet, and he tastes like Christmas cake and love.

“I need more time,” you repeat again, between kisses. His arms hold you tightly around your waist, and he nods, lids heavy with desire as he waits for you to continue.

“... so can you please stay the night?”

[rafesbangs]

𝜗𝜚 you and rafe had never gotten along, but one plane ride changed it all

c!w; mdni !! reader is sassy lol, mean dom!rafe, kinda dom!reader a bit, degradation, rough hate sex lol, 'unprotected' sex, p in v, lotta dirty talk, slight size kink as per usual.

notes; i mostly write a shyer reader or established relationship sooo this is kinda outta my comfort zone a little ! i hope you enjoy ! ALSO this is kinda longggggg

you loathed rafe cameron. he was the embodiment of everything you hated about entitled kook assholes that didn't deserve their privilege, there was unfortunately a plethora of them, he would be their king.

how did you have the displeasure of knowing rafe cameron? well your father and his worked very closely for years, building an empire upon which both your dad and ward sat atop on.

you could admit that you too were definitely privileged, absolutely spoiled even, but you would definitely argue that you were raised right in comparison to the people in which you shared a zip code with.

you and rafe had gotten acquainted not only through just being at the same high school prior to graduating, but also because your dad and ward enjoyed hosting a little too much. there were many a party where you had to take care of drunk rafe because you couldn't stand disappointing your father, even though rafe wasn't your responsibility.

it was only recently that ward and your father had been taking you to their big office tower, showing you and rafe the ropes. seeing as you were both the first born children, you were to inherit and become the heads of the empire your fathers had cultivated.

you always thought about how there's no way rafe would ever rise to such a responsibility.

it was a cold autumn day when you and rafe had been called to join your fathers for another day of learning, you two were technically already apart of the company having graduated from high school, but you were still learning.

unfortunately for you, ward had decided you two would join them at the office tower in atlanta, meaning you had to sit on a plane alone with rafe.

you were dreading the hour flight as the uber pulled up to the landing strip. the two of you had been silent the entire car ride, thankfully the feeling of hatred was neutral so you never had to worry about rafe bothering you, but his existence was enough anyway.

you hopped out of the uber, grabbed your overnight bag and headed up the steps of the private jet.

the two of you sat adjacent to each other, rafe with his signature smirk adorning his lips, he knew you were hating every minute of this. the plane hadn't even moved yet, something about the pilot being late.

"where the fuck is this pilot." rafe grumbled, you ground your teeth and glared at him before turning back to look outside.

rafe began tapping his foot impatiently before walking into the flight attendant quarters, emerging from behind the curtain with a bottle of whiskey and a glass.

your jaw ticked in annoyance, of course he wouldn't offer you a glass, typical. you couldn't hold back the words, they were falling off the tip of your tongue, "you could offer a glass at least." you growled, crossing your leg over the other.

rafe's gaze tore off of the over filled glass in front of him and onto your legs, you were wearing a form fitting pair of grey pinstripe pants as well as a tight long button up shirt, it was driving rafe crazy. he rolled his eyes and took a big gulp of the drink, it burning smoothly down his throat.

"asshole." you muttered, getting up to get yourself a gin and tonic instead, it was too early in the day for whiskey anyway. rafe watched your ass as you disappeared into behind the curtain, twitching his nose in annoyance about how hot he found you. you came back with a drink in hand, making sure to glare at him a little before sitting down.

the pilot finally arrived, walking up onto the plane and apologising as he walked past the two of you, rafe shook his head at the ground, "we've been fuckin' waiting, you think we have time t'wait like this?" he spat, the pilot simply apologised again and scurried off to the cockpit, rafe muttered something about talking to his father as he did.

you shook your head a little at rafe, brow slightly furrowed, of course he had to treat everyone around him like shit. the plane finally began moving, zooming down the airstrip before finally taking off into the air. you started fiddling with your pen as the two of you sat in silence before dropping it on the floor, it rolled down the passage way as the plane was still gaining height and you sighed heavily.

after the aircraft had finally levelled out, you got up and walked over to pick up your pen, bending your back all the way down. rafe's jaw ticked as he stared at you, he knew you had to be teasing him at this point.

"slut" he mumbled as you walked over to go sit back down, you paused and turned towards him with a raised eyebrow. "what was that?"

his eyes met yours and he took a long sip of whiskey before repeating himself, spelling the word out to you like you were a toddler. you scoffed at him and rolled your eyes, shaking your head, you'd been called a slut before for simply just looking the way you look.

"fuckin' walking around, bending over in those pants.. 'nd that tight top, seriously y/n?" he said, clearly and to your face now. you were stunned at the way he dared to talk to you, even more stunned when you noticed he was sporting a little something below the belt of his dress pants.

he rolled his sleeves up, a tick you noticed he had a long time ago, before taking another swig of whiskey. you tried not to stare but ultimately you couldn't deny that one of the other main reasons you hated rafe so much had to do with the fact that he was such an asshole, but such a fine asshole.

you never knew you had such a thing for veins until you started sneaking looks at rafe every time he was bothered enough to roll his sleeves up.

you stopped. "fuck off rafe, i can wear what i want. it's not like i'm wearing anything revealing, i mean, just because you got hard-"

he quickly stood up, his gaze piercing and heart stopping, you didn't even trail off from your sentence, just completely shut up. "think you can fuckin'-" he inched closer and closer, you backed up until you found yourself stopped against another chair, "think y'can talk to me like that? hmm?" the two of you were centimetres away from touching noses, you could feel his hot breath on your face as he glared down at you. jesus, you forgot how tall he was, even when you're wearing heels.

you gained the confidence to snap at him lowly, "you can't just be calling me a slut rafe." your chest was rapidly rising and falling, rafe noticed the way your tits were moving as you breathed. he scoffed, having no shame in looking right down your top, "hard to say something like that when you're standing here with your tits on display like this." he met your eyes again, his once angry expression replaced with a smirk.

he tugged at his sleeves again, readjusting one that had slipped down, you looked down at the veins trailing from his hands that disappeared into the white shirt.

"y/n." he said, calm dripping from his tone, you realised you had been staring too long, heat pooling in your tummy currently couldn't compare to the heat rushing into your cheeks. "i catch you every time y'know."

your lips parted, every time? "what're you talking about." you demanded with narrowing eyes, crossing your arms in what little room you had, only making your tits perk up more, he shamelessly shifted his gaze down again until you lifted a hand to grab his jaw, something that shocked him and he instantly grabbed your wrist and paused.

the two of you were stood there, lips centimetres away, touching felt like fire between you and the look in both of your eyes was all the confirmation the two of you needed.

rafe's grip slipped only to replant his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a searing kiss. your hands slipped up his chest desperately, much to your embarrassment, but you could feel his body shudder at your touch. you both wanted this. badly.

his other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you in tightly, you melted into him, weakening over how good his touch felt. he started then tugging your shirt, trying to undo the buttons, you helped him quickly before slipping it off and starting on his shirt.

rafe now had you under him, down to nothing but your panties, even your bra was somewhere on the floor, rafe in just some boxers. you groaned into the kiss as he pressed his growing boner against your sensitive clit.

he slipped a hand down your body, his fingers landing on your sopping panties as he began to rub circles where you were most sensitive. you twitched under his touch and you could feel the cocky smirk as he kissed you. in a second it had gone from his fingers inside you to his dick now rubbing through your folds, rafe didn't have his chest against you anymore, he was watching as your pussy clenched around nothing, desperate for him.

he scoffed, "i knew you were a fuckin' slut." just as you rolled your eyes, he slipped his fat tip in, now having to bully the rest of his huge cock into your tight pussy. "jesus, shit, how're you this fuckin' tight" he groaned, finally sliding his length in to the hilt.

you gasped when he brushed that spongey spot in your cervix, "yeah? you like that shit bitch?" he grunted, now mercilessly driving his cock into you at an unforgivable speed. your eyes were rolling back, twitching as you hadn't even had a second to get used to his length.

"ugh fuck- move 'm getting on top" you demanded, he didn't argue, swapping spots with you so that you were now just above his dick, pulling your panties to the side again as you very slowly lowered onto his thick cock. he whined out, eyes going wide when he realised what he just let slip.

"who's the slut now?" you taunted, beginning to bounce on his dick, your tits bouncing with you. rafe reached up and pawed at one, rolling your nipple between his fingers harshly, you hissed but soon whined at the added stimulation. he grinned mischievously, releasing you nipple to lower his fingers to your clit.

he watched you proudly, rubbing in circles for a moment while your eyes rolled back as you continued to fuck yourself on his cock. he pinched your clit, you yelped at the feeling but the way your pussy started clenching around rafe's dick only made him do it more.

your movements grew tired, rafe noticed and planted his hands under your thighs, securing you before slamming his cock into you at a rapid pace. all you could do was go almost limp, feeling his huge dick pistoning deep inside you. "my dick's splittin' you open. you fuckin' like that shit?" his hips snap, and you squeal, your whole body jolting with every movement.

you grabbed onto a veiny arm, the sight making you chew at your lower lip as rafe continued to jackhammer into your begging cunt. "ugh- you're such a fucking piece of shit, its a shame, your dick is soo big." you groaned, digging your nails into his forearm. he smirked at your admission, repositioning himself to now sit up so your faces were inches away again.

he moved his hands to your hips, gripping harshly, you slid your arms around to the back of his shoulders, beginning to bounce and grind again. he tipped his head back letting a little "oh baby" slip.

you grinned as you were nearing your release, your pussy beginning to clamp desperately around rafe's dick, his strokes getting sloppy and harsher. his hands dug harder into your hips as you raked your nails across his back, your orgasm ripping through you finally and rafe cumming inside you just as it was ending.

you buried your face in the crook of his neck as he continued to fuck his cum into you, an evil smirk swiping across his face. when the two of you had finally steadied, reality hit like a truck.

you paused, lifting your head slowly, the two of you locked eyes and you quickly slipped off of him, taking several steps back.

"you- shit. no one can fucking know." you seethed before snatching your clothes off the floor, cursing at the fact that you were going to have to sit in cum filled panties until you could get your bigger suitcase from under the plane.

rafe scoffed, "i'm not the only one who was fucking there. and for the record i agree, this is not happening again. fuck."

but of course he was lying.

[bbokicidal]

"What Happens When..." | [SKZ] OT8 | [I.N]

Everyone decides to take a guess what Jeongin's girlfriend's favorite thing to do in the bedroom is - and almost everyone gets it wrong.

Genre: Smut [18+ MDNI] Pairing: Jeongin x Fem!Reader Warnings: SPIT, lots of spit, PinV (wrap it before you tap it), tummy bulge/size kink, manhandling, bondage/hands being bound together, pussy spanking, spanking in general

Notes: This IS a short fic and isn't anything really long. There's no plot - it's purely smut for your viewing pleasure and my mental peace, lol. <- This is the last installment of this series !! It's finally coming to an end.~

Word Count: 2.2K

"Why does Hyunjin get to go first?" "Because he's already between her legs, I guess."

"Would you two shut up? This is all for educational purposes. You need to watch and learn; Because I'm about to prove to you that I know what her biggest kink is." Hyunjin's head whips to face the two that bicker about him, Jisung stepping back and Felix letting his arms cross over his chest. "Ayen-ah's let on before that she really likes this one." His thumb finds your clit, flicking over the bundle of nerves and you finally give him a soft reaction to work with, your eyes slipping shut and hands curling against your chest in awe.

Felix lets out a heavy breath that ends in a soft whine, his head tipping to the side to get a better look at where his Hyung's cock begins to prod at your folds - and Felix can't help but stare as he slowly sinks into your warmth, wishing it were himself instead. "That's not fair.."

"So what exactly is the kink here...? Or is this just one big excuse to fuck your friend's girlfriend?" Chris quips off to Hyunjin's right, peering almost just over his shoulder to watch as the younger's cock sinks further into you. ".. Going in raw?" He questions shortly after, realizing Hyunjin hadn't slipped a condom on before pushing into you.

And Hyunjin sighs, tongue prodding at the corner of his mouth as he listens to the others continue to bicker about him just wanting to have sex with you.

But then Jisung sees it.

The way your skin tightens; The way your stomach bulges each time Hyunjin slowly rolls his hips forward. The way your head tips back as he leans down over you and whispers for you to feel it, guiding one of your hands away from your chest to instead press down on the very place his cock prods and rocks against. "..Bulging..." He whispers, lips parted in surprise at the sight in front of them.

"That's.. a pretty close second." Jeongin hums. He sits back against the headboard as he watches his Hyung rock into you slowly; He was lucky he got to fuck you at all - with Jeongin's permission of course - so he was going to do it with the utmost care. "But that's definitely not top spot."

Jisung practically barks from where he stands behind Hyunjin, reaching to tug on his shoulder. "I knew that wasn't going to be it-! Move, it's my turn." And to many of their surprise, the artist lets himself be pulled away from your sweetness.

Just as expected, Jisung moves forward instead to test his theory. If he could get this right with his one guess he would win the bet. And the prize... God, he's never imagined something so wonderful in his entire life. One hand drops to lay on your thigh while the other reaches to undo his belt - and he watches your eyes widen in surprise at his bold move, thinking he'd won already. Your lips pop apart and you're sure you're about to drool at the way his fingers curl around the buckle and rip it wide open, his belt dragging through the loops of his jeans in such a quick and slick manner that you're sure this is a practiced move. With your reaction he was sure he just ended the bet.

Jeongin almost moves to ask Jisung what he's going to do with that belt, hoping there's no impact about to be made with the accessory - but he simply sits up and stays quiet as he watches Jisung wrap the thick, heavy leather around your wrists to keep them snug together. Your soft gasp of anticipation feeds into Jisung's delusion that he was winning the bet, letting him pin your arms down above your head before he leans in to smile right in your face. "You like bondage, don't you, angel?"

And your smile grows, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you nod. "I do; I really, really do. But..." Jisung's heart sinks as you giggle. "It's not my favorite."

"Hah!" Changbin's laugh basically spews from his lips in a visual syllable, his arms previously crossed over his chest now gesturing to Jisung to skidaddle. "Go. She said you lost the bet so get off 'er and let someone else have a turn." His lips pull into a soft smirk, parted and exposing the way his tongue pokes between his teeth like he has ideas of his own to try out.

But someone else is just a tad quicker with wanting to win the bet. As soon as Jisung moves off of the bed in front of you to go sit beside Jeongin in defeat, Minho is right there to take his place; Only he doesn't crawl onto the bed to get to you and instead stands at the edge of it, feeling as though he looms over your still-bound body displayed for them so openly atop the sheets.

Your wrists stay above your head as you crane your neck to look at the man standing so close yet so far, only to have your head bounce back against the mattress from the force of Minho's hand locking around your right ankle tight enough you're sure it might bruise. He wastes no time in dragging you to where he stands so he's properly positioned between your legs, his eyes dark as they drag over every curve that comes to him so swiftly. And no one in the room can ignore the way you yelp at the feeling of being manhandled.

Calloused palms and rough fingertips run up the outer expanse of your thighs, coming nowhere near close to your warmth as they wander higher. He grips at your hips and gives them a teasing squeeze, feeling the way your skin presses between his fingers; So soft, so tempting. With careful but fairly stiff and rough movements, the muscle in his biceps tightens and flexes as he flips you from your back to your front - your face down and ass up for him. A position most would expect when it came to the resident ass-lover of the group. "There we go."

And with the way you moan the moment your face hits the sheets everyone in the room can almost guarantee Minho had won the bet fair and square. That was until your head slowly lifted from where it pressed against the mattress, breathing heavy with eyes dragging up towards your boyfriend where he sat now in front of you - smirking and letting his arms slowly cross over his chest. "You gonna tell them, baby, or do I have to?"

"There's no way that wasn't it." But Seungmin steps forward to test his luck anyway. Even if Minho won the bet just now, he wanted to get his own needs met, his palm smacking down hard on the bare skin of your asscheeks twice before he brought his hand lower and let it meet the wetness of your folds. That gets you to jolt, a sharp gasp escaping swollen lips.

The way you whimpered against the satin of your sheets almost made Seungmin think he was right about his guess, but the glance and small shake of Jeongin's head seemed to secure the realization that he was wrong, too. Seungmin sighs out and brings his hand down harder than before, making you flinch and moan loud - just for him, considering he'd been spanking you for his own satisfaction at that point. May as well let him know you appreciated it while it happened - and that you were open to it in the future, too, of course.

"I'm starting to think we're never going to guess it," Chris murmurs from where he stands near Changbin, leaning against the wall just to watch as everyone took guess after guess. "Maybe we should start going for softer kinks? Stuff that's less harsh...?"

Changbin shakes his head almost immediately. "She seems like the type who would like impact play or something, though. Do we need to go for something more extreme..?"

"What if it's got something to do with toys?" Jisung quips quietly, seated on the edge of the bed and fighting hard not to beg for another chance at winning the bet.

While the producers babbled on to each other about where to go from their current point, Felix stepped forward from where he'd been observing the entire time the others tried to figure out what it was you liked. You'd reacted well to everything they'd done so far; Hyunjin's size, Jisung's restraining, Minho's manhandling, and then Seungmin's spanking. There was no way in Hell you didn't enjoy the more hard-hitting kinks and the like - so he was going to take his chance while the others whined to each other about losing the bet. Besides, they were working against each other - not with.

"Move." Felix hums, gently nudging Minho aside. The older of the two surprisingly complies with ease and steps aside to watch Felix with close eyes, his hands settling on your ass before rubbing down to your hips. There's no hold, no grabbing - no slapping, spanking, bruising or restraining. No, Felix's hands are gentle as they rub over your skin, smoothing down the swell of your ass before giving a teasing squeeze and trailing lower. He settles his hands along your thighs before using his thumbs to spread your pussy open just for him to see - and for Minho to get a glance at.

Chris tips his head as he watches, eyes drawn away from Jisung and Changbin when Felix had stepped forward to take a shot at the prize. "Felix, wait. We should figure out what --"

But then he stops, lips popping apart in pure surprise at the utter filthiness of the younger man placed behind you.

Just as you lift your head to peek up in slight confusion at their constant rambling - and the feeling of someone's hands on you from behind who definitely was not Minho - Felix spits on your pussy.

It splatters on the pink of your skin, mixing with the slick that seems to gush from your aching, empty hole - and Felix watches as you clench around nothing in desperation. Yeah, he'd just won the bet.

"Shit," falls from Hyunjin's lips before he can help it, staring down the brunet who he wasn't aware until now was quite so.. dirty. His eyes dart from Felix over to where you lay, your reaction giving everything away; The way you bury your face down in the sheets as a strangled and shy moan rips from your throat; The way your cheeks burn a crimson hue none of them had seen all night. Even your ears tint pink in embarrassment that your dirty little secret had been revealed.

Jeongin, finally sitting forward and reaching to cup your cheeks in one of his hands, tips your head to face him so you can't quite hide away from them no matter how much you want to. "Look at me," he demands, voice soft but firm with instruction. "Open." And the others watch as you obey so sweetly for your boyfriend, lips falling apart and jaw completely slack so he can spit right onto your tongue - your mouth closing so you can swallow it before whimpering out in need of more.

And Felix - well, he's in Heaven. He'd took his shot and won the bet, belt everyone else out of the water no matter how hard they tried to figure you out - and he'd done it just by standing back and watching. His chest swells with pride and excitement at the knowledge that now, he got to receive his prize; That being you for at long as he wanted - or as long as he could last, he supposed. There was no way he was giving you back up to Jeongin before he was milked dry. And what kind of a friend would he be if he didn't pump you full before he returned you to your rightful owner?

"Get out." His voice is low in his chest, demanding everyone else leave so he could have his time with you. He needed it more than anything at the moment - you two shared the exact same kink and he was sure now he'd put that knowledge to good use, maybe even treat you so well with it that you wouldn't want to go crawling back to your boyfriend. But more importantly, you needed it, too, what with the way you were still clenching around nothing and just begging for him to spit on your pretty pussy again.

As the others file out the bedroom door, Jeongin chuckles low in his throat and leans forward to give you a quick kiss before he departs. His thumb slides over your cheek, gentle and soft - soothing before the heated, lust-filled ache that was bound to come in the following hours. His lips were like Heaven - like home - as they pressed against yours in a promise that once Felix was done with you - done with his reward for winning the bet and getting to use you like a toy for as long as he wanted - he would return and greet you with a warm embrace to give you as much care as you needed. Not that he doubted Felix would treat you well. Jeongin took a moment to peek down at where your wrists were still bound together with Jisung's belt, moving a hand down to hook a finger around the leather to give a gentle tug. He smiled against your lips, thumb tugging at the lower as he slowly pulled away to whisper,

"I'm going to leave this here. Good luck, baby."

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek

[arabella0001]

megumi’s confession (megumi x reader)

fluff. suggestive

you and megumi are sort of friends. you don’t have the closest relationship, but you get along well enough. you get along with maki, but she’s not here, you are younger so you needed to stay with your classmates so you managed to click with yuji’s cheerful personality and nobara’s bluntness. but megumi… he complicates things.

you like him. a lot.

and that’s a problem.

he doesn’t look like someone interested in this kind of things, especially you but it’s not like you know anything about him. you barely know if he considers you a friend, let alone if he could ever return how you feel.

so, you hide it. as much as you can.

now, sitting in a café with the group, it’s harder to keep it buried. his foot brushes yours under the table, a fleeting touch that shouldn’t make your heart race—but it does. heat creeps up your neck as you try to focus on yuji rambling about something dumb.

megumi shifts slightly, his gaze cutting toward you. his expression, as usual, gives nothing away, but after a brief silence, he speaks with his usual calm tone, his gaze directly at you, making you jolt slightly.

“something wrong?” his voice is calm, but there’s a slight edge of curiosity.

“no, it’s fine,” you manage to smile, though it feels forced, that’s the last thing you expect right now.

megumi’s sharp eyes linger on you for a moment longer. he notices the silent exchange between you and nobara and he raises a brow slightly, trying to pull apart whatever’s flickering across your face. still, he doesn’t press the issue. he takes a slow sip of his drink before continuing.

“are you sure? you seem distracted.” he says simply, leaning accidentally closer to you and your breath catches in your throat.

“yeah, just… a bad day, i guess.” you insist, though the awkward smile you tack on feels fragile.

his brow lifts—not much, but enough to make you shift uncomfortably.

“i see,” he replies nonchalantly. yuji and nobara exchange subtle glances, suppressing their smile at the clear tension between you two.

as the afternoon wears on, the conversation thins. yuji eventually stretches, loud and dramatic.

“alright, i’m heading out. nobara?” she stands, smirking slightly at you before nodding.

megumi stands too, but his eyes catch yours briefly—just a flicker—before he follows the others outside.

walking behind them, megumi notices how you avert your gaze and the faint flush still lingering on your face. his pace slows just enough that you fall into step with him, trailing a little behind the others.

the silence between you two feels different now, stretching out for what feels like forever for you and your stomach knots. it’s uncomfortable, yet you feel worse just staying quiet.

“so… are you ready for the exams?” you ask, attempting to break the awkwardness.

megumi glances at you, his expression unreadable at your attempt of small talk. “yeah. i’ve been training.” his calm, steady tone is reassuring in some way, though you can feel his eyes lingering on you.

you nod, biting the inside of your cheek and this time, his eyes don’t stray. they settle on you for longer than usual, as if searching for something unspoken. nobara and yuji’s occasional glances aren’t helping either and he can’t stop thinking why everybody seems like they know something, beside him.

he exhales quietly. “you've been quiet today. is something bothering you?” the words hit you harder than you expect. you freeze, barely managing to keep walking.

nobara interrupts, trying to help you and ask something you barely hear, but megumi’s gaze remains locked on you. his sharp eyes flicker with suspicion.

“it’s nothing,” you mumble quickly, looking away.

“that’s not what i asked.” his tone sharpens slightly. “you’ve been weird since the café.”

he tilts his head slightly. “what’s going on?”

nobara glances back at the two of you and smirks knowingly. she tugs yuji forward, whispering something that earns a small laugh from him.

“uh, we’ll go ahead,” yuji announces, shooting you a not-so-subtle thumbs up.

you shoot yuji a glare, silently cursing him for leaving you alone with megumi. nobara flashes you a wink as they walk ahead. now it’s just you and megumi again.

megumi walks quietly beside you, the air thick with unspoken words.

“i didn’t mean to keep anything from you,” you murmur after a long pause. “it’s just… personal.”

his gaze lingers, catching the way you avoid looking at him directly.

“if it’s personal, why do they know about it and i’m the only one who doesn’t?” you stop walking. pressure builds in your chest, each breath heavier than the last.

you stop walking, arms folding over your chest as if it might shield you from how exposed you feel.

“megumi i can’t—” your voice falters. “i’m afraid.”

megumi watches you carefully. for once, his composure cracks just slightly.

“afraid of what? you know you can trust me,” his voice lowers, the softness in it making you feel even more vulnerable.

“megumi… don’t make me say it,” you plead, eyes darting anywhere but at him.

“i don’t wanna force you, y/n” he exhales quietly, confusing all over his face “but if it’s something about me, i’d rather hear it from you.”

you glance at him—just briefly—and mumble, “you’re good at noticing things about other people, but somehow… you didn’t notice this.”

megumi’s eyes narrow slightly. “notice what?”

you hesitate, nerves overwhelming you.

“megumi…i—”

“say it already, damn it. you really making me anxious—”

“i have feelings for you. i have for a while.” you blurt out, not backing back, your heart pounding.

at this, time stops, the confession lingers in the air, louder than it should be. megumi’s eyes widen slightly. his lips part as if to say something, but no words come out.

you swallow hard, your heart threatening to break free from your chest.

“i’m sorry,” you blurt out. “i know i’m a terrible friend for hiding it. i couldn’t help it.”

you start to pull away, but his hand finds your wrist, grounding you in place. his brows knit together, uncertain but steady.

“there’s nothing to apologize for,” he says quietly. “having feelings isn’t something you should apologize for.” your breath catches, tears prick your eyes.

“i think i’m just going to go…” before you can turn, he gently grabs your wrist.

“don’t go.” his voice is soft, almost pleading which is weird coming from him. your eyes meet his, and the concern in his gaze makes your chest tighten.

“you didn’t ruin anything,” he whispers. “your….feelings…aren’t exactly one-sided.”

you feel the ground shift beneath you.

“what…?”

megumi sees the shock in your eyes, the hesitation lingering on your face. you clearly didn’t expect this, and neither did he—not like this. relief intertwines with guilt, tightening his chest. maybe he wasn’t blind to it—just unwilling to face it.

“i guess… i’ve picked up on more than i thought.” his voice is quieter now, eyes narrowing slightly as if piecing together his own words. “the way you look at me… how you act around me… i’ve seen it.”

he pauses, gaze dropping briefly to the ground before returning to yours.

“maybe i’ve been ignoring it.”

“megumi…” your voice—soft, almost fragile—pulls at something in his chest. he doesn’t let go, his hands still resting gently on your face, fingers brushing along the edges of your jaw.

“i didn’t mean to overlook it,” he says, his tone calm but honest. “i just… wasn’t sure what to do with it. i’m not great at this stuff.”

“you only realized just now?”

he holds your gaze for a long moment before nodding slightly. “part of me knew.” his voice lowers further. “i just didn’t want to deal with it. i thought… maybe it was better to ignore it than risk messing things up.”

the warmth of his thumbs grazes over your cheek, a rare tenderness behind the gesture.

“but now… i don’t think i can.”

your heart races under the weight of his words, but his expression doesn’t change much. megumi isn’t someone who wears his feelings on his sleeve. still, there’s something in the way he looks at you—a softness that wasn’t there before.

when your arms wrap around him suddenly, pressing your face to his chest, megumi tenses for just a second. then, slowly, his arms encircle you.

his hand drifts to the back of your head, the other at your waist, steady but unintrusive.

“...it’s okay,” he mutters after a while, voice almost too quiet to hear. he isn’t sure what else to say.

he presses a hesitant kiss to your forehead. it’s unfamiliar, but somehow, it feels right. his fingers drift through your hair, slow and grounding.

“can you look at me?”

his tone isn’t demanding, but there’s a subtle firmness behind it. when you pull away enough to meet his gaze, his eyes immediately lock onto yours. there’s a faint flush dusting his cheeks, though his expression remains composed.

your gaze flickers down to his lips, and megumi notices. he always notices. he doesn’t say anything about it, but the slight shift in his breathing gives him away.

“megumi…” the way you say his name, barely above a whisper, draws his attention back to your eyes. his heart skips uncomfortably, the space between you growing smaller without either of you moving.

his gaze lowers again—just briefly. “yeah?”

“please… kiss me.” the words hit harder than you intend. for a split second, he wonders if he heard you right. but he knows he did.

megumi doesn’t answer right away. he studies your face for any hesitation, any flicker of doubt. when he finds none, he exhales softly through his nose, lifting a hand to your cheek once more.

“…okay.” his voice is almost too quiet.

there’s no rush when he leans in, no sudden movement. his lips meet yours carefully, as if testing his limits—testing yours. the kiss is slow, hesitant, but the warmth of his hand against your skin lingers, grounding you in place.

his hand flexes gently at your waist, as if grounding himself in the moment. the sound you make brushes against his skin, subtle but entrancing.

megumi isn’t the type to lose composure, but there’s something about this—something about you—that tugs at the edge of his restraint.

his hand slides just a little lower, fingers curling gently around your side. the kiss deepens by instinct, though there’s nothing rushed about it. it’s careful, deliberate, and unspoken words fill the space between each breath.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours. his eyes remain half-lidded, breaths slow and steady as he tries to process everything.

“…you’re shaking,” he points out quietly, noticing the subtle tremble in your arms. you try to laugh it off, but he doesn’t let go.

“you’re not a bad friend,” he says after a moment, sensing the guilt still lingering beneath the surface. “and… you didn’t mess anything up.” his words are simple, but there’s weight behind them.

the air between you feels heavier now. megumi’s forehead rests lightly against yours, but his grip on your waist lingers, fingertips pressing just enough to keep you close. his eyes flicker down to your lips again, half-lidded, but he doesn’t move—at least, not yet.

you can feel his breath against your mouth, shallow and uneven. he’s usually composed, unreadable even when everything around him is chaotic. but right now… there’s something different. something unsteady in the way he’s holding you, like he’s barely keeping himself together.

“megumi…” your voice is soft, but there’s a tremble to it that you can’t hide.

his gaze lifts to yours, and you can almost see the cracks forming in his calm exterior.

you’re too close, too warm, and the way your lips part slightly when you say his name—it’s messing with his head.

he swallows hard, but his hands move on their own. one shifts to the small of your back, pressing you flush against him, while the other slides up to cup your jaw, tilting your face just a little higher.

“... you’re not helping by looking at me like that,” he murmurs, voice lower than before.

“like what?” you whisper back, though you know exactly what he means.

megumi’s eyes darken, and his thumb lightly brushes over your lower lip, lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

“like that.”

his restraint snaps faster than either of you expect. he kisses you again, rougher this time, no hesitation in the way his lips part yours. his grip tightens at your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp softly against his mouth.

the sound—god, the sound—sends something sharp through him, and suddenly he’s not thinking anymore.

his hand drifts into your hair, tilting your head gently. his lips move over yours hungrily, like he’s been holding this in for way too long. and maybe he has.

your hands curl into his jacket, pulling him closer, and he groans quietly against your mouth as his teeth catch your lower lip, tugging lightly.

the kiss deepens, heat pooling between the two of you as his tongue slides against yours, the slow, deliberate movements making your knees feel weak.

his arm tightens around your waist when he feels you sway slightly, anchoring you firmly against him.

“you’re… not making this easy,” he mutters between kisses, his forehead dropping against yours briefly as he tries to catch his breath.

you’re barely holding yourself together, but you still manage to smirk faintly, brushing your lips lightly over his again. “you’re the one who kissed me like that.”

megumi exhales sharply through his nose, and before you can say anything else, he’s kissing you again—deeper, rougher, like he’s chasing something he can’t quite reach.

his jacket crinkles under your grip as his body presses flush against yours, pinning you softly against the wall behind you.

your back meets the surface with a quiet thud, and megumi’s hands immediately slide to your hips, guiding them closer until there’s nothing left between you.

his breath hitches when he feels your fingers slide under the edge of his shirt, your touch hot against his skin. his stomach tenses involuntarily at the contact, but he doesn’t stop you.

if anything, it spurs him on.

“you’re… unfair,” he mumbles against your lips, but his mouth trails lower, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your jaw, down to your neck.

the feeling of his lips there—soft but deliberate—sends a shiver down your spine, and megumi feels it.

his lips linger against your skin, breathing heavily as he lets his forehead rest against your shoulder.

for a moment, everything feels suspended in time, neither of you moving except for the rise and fall of your chests.

but even now, his hands haven’t left your hips, thumbs brushing slow circles over the fabric of your shirt.

“...we should probably stop,” he says, though his voice is anything but convincing.

you hum softly, fingers still resting against the bare skin of his waist. “do you want to stop?”

there’s a long pause. “no,” he admits quietly, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. his eyes are hooded, but there’s a rare vulnerability behind them. “but i’m trying to be smart about this.”

you tilt your head slightly, brushing a strand of dark hair from his face, your touch light but lingering.

“for once, maybe stop overthinking it,” you whisper.

megumi’s gaze lingers on you, his lips parting slightly as if to say something, but instead, he leans in, kissing you softly this time. slower, more deliberate. he’s not in a rush anymore.

T

he kiss softens, melting into something slower—something that lingers more than it burns. megumi’s hands remain steady at your waist, his thumbs brushing over your sides like he’s memorizing the feeling of you there. his forehead presses lightly against yours when he finally pulls away, his breath still uneven but calmer now.

neither of you speaks for a moment. the silence feels heavier, but not uncomfortable. it settles between you in a way that feels… right.

megumi’s eyes stay half-lidded as he glances at you, taking in the way your lips are slightly swollen from his kisses, the soft rise and fall of your chest as you try to catch your breath. his fingers tighten ever so slightly against your hips before relaxing again.

“you okay?” he asks, voice quiet, the usual stoic calm returning to his tone—though there’s still a faint rasp to it.

you nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. you?”

his gaze flickers away for a brief second, like he’s processing the question. his hands don’t leave you, and his body stays close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him.

“yeah,” he finally answers. “i’m good.”

but his eyes drift back to yours, and the corner of his mouth twitches slightly—barely noticeable, but it’s there.

you lean into him a little, resting your head lightly against his shoulder. he doesn’t move away, instead shifting just enough so that you fit perfectly against him. his chin brushes the top of your head, and you can feel his hand settle against the small of your back, grounding you there. it feels… safe.

after a moment, you murmur against his jacket, voice soft but teasing. “so… does this mean you’re finally done ignoring how you feel about me?”

megumi sighs through his nose, his grip tightening instinctively around you, though there’s no real annoyance in his expression. “i wasn’t ignoring it.”

you pull back just enough to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “you kind of were.”

he meets your gaze, and for once, he doesn’t have a response. the faint pink dusting his cheeks betrays him, but he doesn’t look away.

instead, he presses his lips to your forehead—a simple, brief kiss that lingers for just a second longer than necessary.

“i won’t anymore,” he says quietly. your heart skips at the sincerity in his voice.

neither of you addresses what this is—not directly. but the way his arms stay wrapped around you, the way his hand unconsciously brushes along your back in slow, absentminded circles… it’s enough.

“good,” you whisper, smiling softly against him.

you stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s warmth, letting the rest of the world fade away outside the quiet bubble you’ve created. and maybe there’s still a lot left unspoken, but for now, this is enough.

[shybluebirdninja]

Fury

Summary: When Bucky's jealous of Steve, there's only one way to calm the storm— and it involves taking you hard and fast.

Pairings           : Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Note                 : rough sex, blowjob, jealousy

The tension was suffocating the second you walked back into the room. Bucky was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his jaw clenched so tight you could almost hear the grinding. He didn’t even need to say anything. His eyes—stormy, dark, and fixed on you—were enough to tell you what kind of mood he was in.

You didn’t do anything wrong, at least not intentionally. Steve had been the one who came over, his usual friendly self, maybe standing a little too close, maybe cracking one too many jokes. But it wasn’t like you were encouraging him. Hell, you barely even noticed until you saw the way Bucky’s eyes tracked every single move Steve made around you, like a predator sizing up his prey. The moment Steve walked out of the room, Bucky’s whole demeanor shifted—dangerous, possessive.

And now, here you were, the air thick with the kind of jealousy that could either end in a fight or something way more explosive.

He finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “You looked real comfortable with Steve, huh?”

You froze. Bucky wasn’t one for idle jealousy—when he got possessive, it was something primal, something that burned hot and fast, a storm you either weathered or drowned in. And right now, you were treading water.

“It wasn’t like that,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. But you knew that wouldn’t fly. Not with him.

“Wasn’t it?” He pushed off the wall, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you, each one sending a wave of heat through your body. “Looked like he couldn’t keep his fuckin’ eyes off you. And you? You just let it happen.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the look he gave you shut it right down. His hand was on you in an instant, his metal fingers curling around the back of your neck, pulling you close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body.

“You think you can let Steve get that close to you and I wouldn’t do something about it?” His breath was hot against your skin, his voice thick with that dangerous edge. “You’re mine.”

You shivered at the possessiveness in his tone, feeling that familiar pull low in your belly, the one that always came when Bucky got like this—jealous, furious, and desperate to remind you just who you belonged to.

“Bucky—” you tried, but his grip tightened just enough to stop you.

“Shut up.” His words were sharp, demanding, and your knees felt weak. He spun you around so fast you barely had time to catch your breath before you were pressed against the nearest wall, his body pinning you there, hard and unrelenting. “I’m gonna fuckin’ show you what happens when you let another man get close.”

His hand slid down your back, over the curve of your ass, gripping it roughly before he yanked your jeans down in one swift move. You gasped, your palms flat against the cold wall as he kicked your legs apart with his foot. His hand came down on your bare skin, a sharp slap that sent a shockwave of pleasure and pain shooting through you.

“Fuckin’ Steve...” he muttered darkly, another slap making you bite back a moan. “Think he can look at you like that?” His breath was hot on your neck. “Hear that, baby? You’re gonna scream for me, so loud, I want him to hear you.”

Before you could process the thought, he was pushing your face down against the wall, his fingers finding your heat, rough and fast, teasing you until you were a mess of whimpers and gasps. “Already so wet, huh?” he growled, pressing himself against you from behind, letting you feel just how hard he was.

You pushed back against him, needing more, needing him to just take what he wanted already, but he wasn’t giving in that easy. He always liked to make you wait, drag it out, make you beg for it. And you were close—so close to begging. But he didn’t give you the chance.

“Fuck this,” he growled, and then he was inside you, hard and fast, filling you completely in one brutal thrust. You cried out, your hands scrambling for something to hold onto, but there was nothing but the cold, unyielding wall in front of you.

“Bucky!” His name tore from your throat, a mix of pleasure and pain as he fucked you, each thrust harder than the last. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you back against him with every rough movement, your body jerking forward from the force of it.

“Yeah, that’s right, baby. Let Steve hear you. Let him know who fucks you like this.” His voice was dark, gravelly, and full of possessive fury.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, your moans and gasps echoing off the walls. Bucky didn’t let up, didn’t slow down—he was relentless, driving into you with a raw, animalistic need. And fuck, you loved it. Loved the way he lost control when he got jealous, the way his hands gripped you so hard you were sure they’d leave bruises. Loved the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered.

You were close, so close, and Bucky knew it. He could always tell.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” His hand slipped down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles. “Gonna scream for me?”

You were already screaming, your body trembling, barely holding on as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. And when you finally fell, it was like a fucking explosion, your whole body shattering as you came hard around him, your cries echoing in the small space.

But Bucky wasn’t done.

He pulled out suddenly, flipping you over onto your back, and before you could catch your breath, he was pushing you down to your knees.

“Open your mouth,” he demanded, his voice rough and commanding. You did as you were told, your lips parting just in time as he pushed himself past them, rough and demanding. You gagged slightly as he hit the back of your throat, but he didn’t care. He was too far gone, too consumed by jealousy and lust.

He fucked your mouth with the same intensity he’d fucked you before, his hand gripping the back of your head, guiding your movements as you sucked him. You could feel him twitching, hear his breath coming out in harsh pants as he neared his release.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his hips jerking forward as he came, spilling himself down your throat. He held you there for a moment, making sure you swallowed every drop before finally letting go.

You collapsed against him, your legs weak, your body trembling, and Bucky pulled you up, his arms wrapping around you possessively.

“You’re mine,” he growled into your ear, his breath still ragged. “Don’t you ever forget that.”