#Please save me from work 😩

[espressoristretto-patronum]

One of my silly headcanon is that Tori (being half-Italian) and Imelda (being half-Spanish/of Spanish origin) fight over which languages is the best. Like Imelda says "Spanish is better! It's like we're singing!" and Tori "Oh please, Italian is way better, the language is made of love!" and they are insulting each other in all the three languages, using a lot of hands.

Then Sebastian says calmly "I think French is better."

Tori and Imelda are rivals to besties in a second to make Sebastian regret what he has just said.

[mariasont]

EEEEK your post prison fic for spencer is fREAking me out!!! could you maybe do one where spencer is now teasing the reader a bit? maybe he's giving her extra praise and she freaks (what would i do if he called me a good girl? 😩) (this is very indulgent to my praise kink i'm so so sorry 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️) tytyty!! i adore love and cherish you and your work 💕

I Aim To Please - S.R

a/n: shewwwwww to be complimented by post prison spencer fucking reid. im drooling!!!! but anyway babes i adore & love YOU!!!! so thank u so so sooo much for requesting 💖💖

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x shy!media-liaison!reader

warnings: spencer being hot, reader being shy girl, spencer being a little shit who loves to tease

wc: 1.5k

There were a few basic rules you had established from working at BAU. First, avoid Rossi at all costs until he’s had at least two cups of coffee. Second, never attempt to outwit Emily; she’ll see right through you and crush your argument every single time. And third—perhaps the most crucial—do everything in your power to maintain your freaking composure around Dr. Reid.

That last one, however, was proving to be a monumental challenge. It wasn’t just the way he spoke, his brain firing off at a speed only he could keep up with. It wasn’t even the way he seemed oblivious to how endearing those very quirks were. No, it was the fact that the simple act of him breathing in your direction had you scrambling to hold yourself together. And honestly you were failing miserably.

Which is why you spent most of your time holed up in your office. It wasn’t much—just a desk, a slightly uncomfortable chair, and a perpetually growing stack of case files that seemed determined to bury you. But it offered privacy, and that was enough. Here you could breathe, decompress, and occasionally allow yourself to daydream about a certain genius profiler without the risk of public humiliation.

The bullpen was proving to be too chaotic, too close to him. Your office gave you distance, a buffer. But, as you had come to learn, hiding only worked when he didn’t decide to seek you out. And Spencer Reid had a knack for finding you when you least expected it.

"Hey."

You jumped slightly, nearly fumbling the stack of press notes you’d been carefully organizing.

Turning toward the door, you found Spencer leaning casually against the frame, a file tucked under one arm and a distracted sort of smile on his face. His tie was slightly loosened, his sleeves rolled up just enough to expose his forearms, and—just like that—your brain completely short-circuited.

"Hi," you said, trying not to sound too startled. "Do you, um, need something?"

"Yeah." He further into the room, lifting the file in explanation. "I was looking at the local coverage of our case, and I noticed a couple discrepancies in the timeline published."

"Oh,” you said softly, quickly shuffling the press notes into a messy pile and pushing them to the side. "Well, um, sometimes reporters try to fill gaps when they don't the facts. It's... frustrating, but it happens."

You glanced up at him briefly, but that look of his made your cheeks warm. Your fingers twisted together in your lap as you tried to focus on anything other than how ridiculously self-conscious you suddenly felt.

"That makes sense. I figured you'd know."

Instead of lingering in the doorway or leaving like you assumed he would, Spencer, casually grabbed the chair across from your desk. He spun it around in one fluid motion and sat it backwards, draping his arms on the backrest with an ease that felt strangely familiar—like you had been friends or colleagues for years instead of just a few months.

"I'll reach out to them about fixing the timeline," you said, your hand instinctively moving a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You clasped your hands together to still them, offering a small, nervous smile. "It shouldn't be too hard to correct."

"Thanks," he said. "That'll probably save from giving another long-winded lecture on factual reporting."

You gave a quiet laugh, grateful for the distraction from your tasks, though you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about the company. Not that you didn’t enjoy his company—there was plenty to enjoy, more than you cared to admit. If you could manage to function like a normal human being around him, you might even look forward to moments like this.

But then he tilted his head slightly, his eyes studying you as if he were unraveling some kind of puzzle and for one terrifying second, you were convinced he could hear every single thought racing through your mind.

"So," he began, "how are you liking it here so far? The job, I mean. Is it what you expected?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. "Oh, um... yeah. It's been great so far. Busy, but... I like it."

"That's good," he said, nodding. "I know it’s not exactly the most predictable job. Some people don't expect it to be so... chaotic."

"Well," you said, fidgeting slightly with your pen. "I knew what I was signing up for. Or, at least I thought I did. It's a lot, but it's rewarding."

"That's a good attitude to have," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Honestly, you're doing a great job. I don't know how you manage to keep everything straight."

Your heart leaped, thudding in your chest as warmth flooded your face. You weren’t used to hearing compliments, especially from someone like him. You wanted to savor the moment, to bottle up the way his words made you feel, but your nerves refused to let you fully enjoy it.

"I'm just, um, organized I guess,” you stammered, your hand flying up to rub at the back of your neck.

"More than just organized," he replied easily, completely unaware of how his words were affecting you. "You've got half the team wrapped around your finger already. Even Rossi listen when you talk. That's impressive."

Your face burned. "I think that's more about respect for the job than me."

Spencer shrugged lightly, as he was watching you, like he didn't quite believe you. "Maybe. Or maybe you're just better at this than you give yourself credit for."

You let out a nervous chuckle, fingers twitching as you fiddled with the corner of the paper in front of you.

"I don't... I don't know about that."

He tilted his head, again, his brow quirking. "Do you know how to take a compliment?"

"Of course I do." You were sure your voice lacked the conviction needed.

He smirked, leaning forward over the chair. "Doesn't seem like it."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words stuck in your throat, tangled in the frantic web that was your thoughts around this infuriating man.

"Well, uh, you’ve only done it twice, so I don’t think that’s enough for you to judge."

His grin widened. "Oh? So you’re saying I should try again? For research purposes?"

Your eyes widened, and you blinked rapidly as if to process his words, your hands shooting up as if to physically block the implication. "I—uh—no, that's not what I meant.”

"No, no," he said, sitting up straighter and waiving off your flustered attempt to deflect. "I aim to please. If more compliments are what you’re after, I’ve got plenty.”

"Please, no."

"You're incredibly efficient. Seriously, I think you've managed to anticipate what the team needs before we even know we need it. And your ability to keep your cool under pressure? That's impressive. I mean, do you even get stressed? Because if you do, you hide it really well."

"Dr. Reid—," you squeaked, covering your face with your hands as if that could somehow shield you from the onslaught of praise.

"And," he continued, clearly now enjoying himself. "You're probably the most patient person, I've ever met. Which is something, considering you work with people who constantly interrupt and derail your perfectly planned press briefings."

Your stomach flipped, and you felt a flush of heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment pooling in your chest. As much as you wanted to sink to the floor, the way he looked at you sent every nerve in your body spiraling. Each word felt like it was tailored to you, peeling back the very thin veneer of control you’d desperately tried to maintain over the massive crush you found yourself drowning in.

Your head dropped to the desk with a soft thunk, muffling your groan. "Okay, okay, I get it."

He leaned forward just slightly, resting his chin on his arms atop the chair. "Now what do you say?"

"Thank you."

He smirked widened. "See? That wasn't so hard was it?"

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you averted your eyes, trying to hide the nervous smile tugging at your lips. "You didn't have to go on and on..."

"Oh, but I did." He was still grinning. "You deserved it."

You risked a glance back at him, losing your cool by the second. That only made your face heat up more. "You're impossible."

"And yet, you haven't kicked me out of your office."

"That's only because I didn’t think it would work."

"Well," he said, turning towards the door. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't mind the compliments."

You opened your mouth to protest but no words came out. Instead, you watched helplessly as he shot you one last smile before disappearing into the hallway.

When the door finally clicked shut behind him, you let out a shaky breath and drop your head back onto the desk.

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[mister0ctopus]

Server Room (2)

(mini series) - jeon jungkook

Pairings: IT!JK x Reader

Summary:  Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room, while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right?

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents, Tension, Panic Attack, Alcohol, Claustrophobia

Au/Genre: Office au, Mini Series

Word Count: 3.4k

Note: i initially wanted this chapter to be a little spicy, but the waves of missing bangtan kept crashing over me as i was writing it... and i couldn’t help but be a softie. 😩 nevertheless, hope you all still enjoy this chapter. please let me know what you think. thanks for being here. thanks for reading, love you all <3😊

🐙 Masterlist / AskMeeeeee!!!

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

You’re a rockstar.

You know it.

You’re commanding the room.

Your high-waisted skirt hugs your curves flawlessly, paired with a crisp white button-up and a belt to accentuate your silhouette.

You stepped into your killer stiletto heels, the ones that always make you feel powerful.

And like the rockstar you are, you breezed through your presentation with ease—after all, you’d poured days of hard work into it, and it showed. Jungkook's tweaks made a huge difference, and despite everything that happened yesterday, you’re incredibly grateful for his help.

The praise from your manager and colleagues felt like the cherry on top of a grueling quarter, and you couldn’t help but bask in a well-earned wave of pride.

After all, being in Sales is not for the faint of heart. It is a demanding job that requires sheer will and resilience.

But you're grateful to have met genuine friends at work.

The kind that makes work feel like less work.

Hanging out with them—whether it's sneaky breaks during the day or wild post-work dinners and drinks—is something you seriously look forward to. You get the juiciest gossip and fresh perspectives from every corner of the office.

“YN! Congrats on the presentation! As expected of you. You did great, babes!” Jimin cheers as he wraps you in one of his signature tight hugs, while you're making coffee in the pantry. He’s a hugger—you figured that out pretty quickly. Jimin was introduced to you by Yoongi, who you were friends with long before joining this company, and the two of you hit it off instantly.

"Thanks, Jiminie. Ugh, I almost didn’t make it today. My laptop broke down yesterday and I seriously thought I lost everything. IT totally saved me, though." You said, still feeling the stress of it all.

"Whoa, jeez... So, you met the new IT guy, Jungkook? Yoongi introduced him to us last week, I think? Said he's a friend of a friend..." He trails off, eyes following a pretty intern passing by you.

You followed his gaze, then quickly turned back to him. "Wait, he was Yoongi's friend? No, I hadn't seen him until yesterday..."

His face flashes in your mind again, and you feel a flare in your chest, and your core...

But the inked arm, the lip ring... his moans when he was—

"—coming?" Jimin interrupts, eyes narrowed, clearly waiting for an answer.

"Wha—huh?” you blink.

"I said, are you coming? Later? Dino's? Let’s celebrate that killer presentation!" Jimin grinned, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Oh! Yeah... Yeah, of course!" you laughed, a little too nervously.

"You good? You look a little bothered," he said, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Yeah! I’m fine. Just remembered something I need to wrap up today," you lied.

"Alright, well, I'll leave you to it. See you at Dino's after 5!" He winked and flashed a final grin before his Chelsea boots clicked down the hall, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You head back to your desk, trying to distract yourself with some admin work as the hours drag on. You make a conscious effort to avoid the IT room, which is easy enough since it’s tucked away at the far corner of the floor.

But your thoughts keep drifting back to the server room...

By the time the clock hits 5, you're more than ready to bolt. Bag slung over your shoulder, makeup refreshed, and a swipe of some cherry red lipstick —and you’re all set to end this interesting week.

Dino’s is the usual spot for your crew. Just a few blocks from the office, it's hosted everything from Yoongi’s promotion to Jimin finally getting his PTO approved (his boss is an ass).

You walk into the bar and spot Allie right away, waving you over with that big, excited grin of hers. You head over to their table, and give her a peck on the cheek.  

“Hey girl! I heard you slayed that presentation! Congrats!!!” she says, her voice all sweet and perky, like cotton candy and sunshine.

"Thanks! I really prepared for it," you giggled, feeling proud of yourself.

"Yeah, Jimin told me! Remember what the guy from Marketing called you? The one who tried to flirt with you while obviously married? Anyway—he called you an office vixen with brains and a nice ass. Remember? I totally agree with the guy. 100%," she recalled, laughing.

You love her.

While Yoongi is like rain at night—a brooding but steady force, someone who hangs back like training wheels on a bike. He never judges, but you still tread carefully. A man of few words, but a volume of presence… a warm cup of coffee, and sound advice—

Allie and Jimin are like the sun after the rain—radiant, gentle, and warm. You’ve always admired that about them. They draw people in, like moths to a flame. Their smiles always radiate a comforting energy that makes everyone feel seen.

“So, Yoongi’s out until next week...” Jimin said, scanning the group and doing a quick headcount. “Allie and YN are here. Tae’s coming in a bit...”

Now, Taehyung… is like sunset. There’s ember in his eyes, golden sparks, a warmth that lingers long after the light fades. In those eyes, there’s another universe you can only wish to be part of, a universe no one fully grasps, yet everything he does feels strangely familiar, like a long-lost memory resurfacing. Like watching a VHS tape of your childhood.

You love them. You adore them.

“He said he’s with some guys from his department” Jimin's still on his phone, probably texting Taehyung. “… Jungkook's with them too."

You froze for a moment, your dreamy gaze at your friends quickly replaced by uneasiness.

You love them. You adore them.

It was the kind of moment that made you want to break the fourth wall, shooting a knowing look to some imaginary audience as if to say, “Are you kidding me?”, like you were in a sitcom or some made-up character.

Which, of course, you’re not.

But the thought of Jungkook coming... to this bar, was making you nervous. Your mind kept circling around the word coming, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You wanted to kick yourself for being ridiculously stupid and childish right now.

You’re not sure how to face him. You’re just glad he didn’t catch you in the server room. That would’ve been awkward, right? What would you even say to him? Like “Hey? Nice dick? Need a hand? Or rather… another hand?”

And that you still don’t know what you feel. Flattered? But also creeped out? But also turned on?

That you came so hard moaning his name last night?

Because goddamn...

Your face flushes, and you can feel the warmth in places it definitely shouldn’t be, so you force yourself to pull it together before anyone notices.

Just as you think you’ve regained control, he walks in.

Jungkook.

In black long sleeves, a few buttons undone at the top, sleeves rolled up to show off his tattoos, and dark pants held by a belt, perfectly showcasing his waist.

How does this guy have the face of an angel and the body of a devil? You don’t understand.

You take a deep breath, forcing your thoughts to calm as Taehyung greets you with a quick but tight hug. His other friends follow, entering with happy smiles, high fives, and loud greetings. As everyone settles in, Jungkook casually slides into the seat in front of you. And for a moment, you forget how to breathe. Or how to act. Because what the fuck?

“Hey,” he said, not meeting your eyes, his focus fixed on the menu he was absently flipping through.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice awkward and unsure. You tried to mask it, but the effort only made it sound even more awkward.

“Didn’t know you’d be here. Thought it was just Tae and some guys…”

“Yeah, um, Tae and the group—we come here often,” you say, your voice weak and almost whispery.

But why are you whispering?

No way were you letting him have this kind of effect on you—not when you were rocking your killer stilettos. You, cowering for a guy? Please. Sure, you saw what he did. Sure, you felt what you felt. And so what? Big deal.

You tried to regain confidence. You straightened your back.

You shoved the lingering dirty thoughts aside, reminding yourself you had something important to say.

“Hey, I know I already thanked you, but really—thank you for helping me yesterday. What you did saved me so much time, and honestly, it made my presentation a lot better. So, thanks.” Your tone was genuine, your words earnest.

He nodded, a soft smile tugging at his lips, revealing a small dimple that you definitely didn’t need to notice right now.

“No worries, glad I could help,” he replied casually, wiping the condensation from his beer glass with a napkin, then meticulously drying the table around it. For someone so effortlessly attractive, he was almost annoyingly neat.

The night deepened, and like a typical Friday night, the bar was packed. Everyone seemed tipsy now.

The group was a chaotic mess. Everyone was talking over each other, laughing loudly enough to drown out the bar’s music. Gossip, banter, and office inside jokes flowed just as freely as the drinks. You noticed Jungkook, just as engaged in the conversation, chiming in with playful jabs and high-fives every now and then.

You lost it when Taehyung stood up, dragging a protesting Jimin toward the dance floor. Jimin half-heartedly tried to resist, but it was clear the drinks were starting to work their magic on both of them.

"I don’t dance, leave me alone!" Jimin said, shoving Taehyung.

"I had a dream that in your past life, you were a popular dancer," Taehyung laughed, only to wince as Jimin pinched him.

Just as you were enjoying the chaos the two were causing, a glass of beer tipped over, spilling its contents all over your white blouse. The cold liquid seeping into the thin fabric and drenching your chest.

Taehyung and Jimin, completely oblivious to the whole incident, were now laughing and stumbling their way onto the dance floor, joining the chaotic mass of bodies in the center.

Startled, you glanced down, inspecting the damage as you saw Allie scramble around, searching for something to help with the mess.

But Jungkook was quick to react, handing you a stack of tissues.

“Here,” he said softly.

“Thanks,” you muttered, grabbing the napkins and frantically dabbing at your blouse. It was no use. The thin fabric clung to your skin, and despite the dim lights, the outline of your black lace bra was now clearly visible.

You didn’t see Jungkook swallow hard as he quickly averted his gaze to the crowd, but he felt his pants tighten, forcing him to adjust in his seat.

You stood up as you excused yourself to the bathroom. Time to salvage what you could of your outfit. And your dignity.

You stayed in the bathroom, drying your blouse with the hand dryer, the hum of the machine filling the tiny space against the loud music outside. As you stand there, your eyes catch your reflection in the mirror. Your eyeliner's a little smudged, your hair's a bit messy, in a kind of way that you like.

Your thoughts drift back to Jungkook, and how he carries himself within the group. So effortlessly cool and funny. You notice he wasn’t shy, like what you initially though he was. It’s still kinda awkward to look at him without flashes of him in the server room popping into your mind, but you’ve noticed he tends to avoid your gaze.

It’s strange though, because he’s not like that with anyone else.

After a few minutes, when your shirt feels dry enough, you step out of the bathroom, making your way back to your table.

But as soon as you take a few steps, a group of obviously drunk people shoving each other stumbles into you, and suddenly you're caught in the middle of their wild commotion. You try to make your way through, but the noise and the chaos are overwhelming, and you're shoved in every direction, feeling dizzy and helpless as you're swept along by the force of their movements.

Panic claws at your chest.

And breathing feels suddenly harder.

Just as you feel your knees begin to buckle, firm, strong hands grip your shoulders, steadying you. In one smooth motion, the man pulls you closer, his body a solid wall, caging you against the chaos around you. You glance up, the first thing your eyes catching is the lip ring glinting in the dim light, and then you realize—he’s taller than you, even with your heels.

What… Why is Jungkook here?

You feel his body jerk with every forceful bump from the crowd, each time pulling you closer to his chest. His jaw clenches with every impact, and you feel his grip on you tightens in response.

Suddenly, you feel him guide you away from the crowd. He struggles for a moment as he pushes through, but his strength is undeniable. Before you know it, he's gently steering you to a quieter corner of the bar, where there’s more space and the air feels easier to breathe again.

You close your eyes, trying to regain your breath and balance.

"You okay?" His voice is gentle but firm. He’s waiting for an answer.

You nod, eyes still shut, but words are stuck in your throat.

You hate tight, enclosed spaces, and you know things could’ve turned dangerous if Jungkook hadn’t intervened in time. A pang of gratitude tugs at your chest again.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the ringing in your ears won’t stop, and your lips and fingers feel numb. The air feels so thick, refusing to fill your lungs properly, and everything around you seemstocloseinmakingithardertobreathe.

“Hey, what do you need?” He stares at you with concern, his gaze steady and unwavering. His hands rest gently on your shoulders, his presence calm as he silently waits for you to respond.

The noise grows louder, it's suffocating, overwhelming. You can’t breathe.

Your breathing comes in shallow, rapid gasps.

Without a word, Jungkook caged your frame with his arms, weaving through the crowd toward the exit.

Air.

Space.

The moment you step outside, you hear him say, "Breathe, YN. You're okay," over and over as you manage to let more air into your lungs.

The space feels infinite, and slowly, you finally breathe freely again.

Jungkook sat silently with you in his car, the windows rolled down, letting in the cool night air.

The parking lot was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos inside the bar. The car felt like a fortress, a safe space that shielded you from the overwhelming noise and suffocating crowd you’d just escaped.

You stayed silent, focusing on steadying yourself, grounding your thoughts with the breathing exercises you’d practiced and used countless times before.

He remained quiet, only glancing at you now and then. It was as if he knew exactly what you needed—peace, space, calm.

After a few moments, when you finally felt like you could breathe again, you let out a soft sigh and turned to him. “You saved me again.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, sparing you a brief glance, but he didn’t say anything else.

“It’s the second time you saved my life,” you said, a light smile tugging at your lips.

“Hmmm,” Jungkook hummed again, this time without even glancing at you. His focus remained straight ahead, though there was a softness in his expression.

“Are you always this quiet?” you asked, a playful smile creeping onto your face.

“Hmmm,” he repeated, but this time, his lips quirked into a subtle smile that revealed those tiny dimples on his cheeks.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you feel a jittery sensation in your stomach. You quickly looked away.

Shut up, you thought to yourself. Shut the front door, lock it, throw away the key, and set the whole house on fire.

“Well, thank you. Again,” you said with a soft laugh. Then, in a quieter tone, you admitted, “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t gotten to me on time.”

Jungkook turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with concern. “Does this happen to you often? You know, attacks?”

You hesitated for a moment before exhaling slowly. “In the past... but it’s gotten better. I haven’t had an attack in a year, but... I guess what happened earlier was just too much.”

“I see…” he replied quietly, his tone thoughtful.

You nodded, finally feeling yourself relax a little more. “I feel better now. And really… thank you. I mean it—I’m truly grateful.”

Jungkook gave a small nod, his eyes meeting yours with sincerity. For a moment, there was nothing but the hum of the car and the stillness of the night.

A sudden wave of exhaustion hits, and you can’t help but let out a yawn.

“You should rest,” Jungkook says softly. “I’ll drive you home. It’s late, and you’ve had a few drinks.”

You glance at him, questioning with your eyes, as if silently asking if he’s okay to drive. He notices and reassures you, “Don’t worry. I only had two bottles, and that was hours ago. I’m good.”

Too drained to argue, you simply nod and accept his offer.

7 missed calls.

18 messages.

You finally checked your phone and quickly called your friends back, explaining what had happened and assuring them Jungkook was kind enough to drive you home.

“Here, Taehyung wants to talk to you,” you said, handing the phone to Jungkook.

He took it without hesitation, his expression calm as he listened. “Mm,” he nodded a few times, offering short, clipped answers before handing the phone back to you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Taehyung asked for the third time, his voice laced with concern. In the background, you could hear Allie and Jimin babbling on the phone, their words slurring and pointless, as they were clearly drunk.

“Yes, Tae, I’m fine,” you reassured him with a small sigh, grateful but slightly exasperated.

After a few more exchanges of "call me when you get home," you finally ended the call, leaning back in your seat with a tired exhale.

You entered your address on an app Jungkook’s phone, your fingers briefly brushing against his as you handed it back to him. For a split second, you felt him stiffen, but he quickly regained composure, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot without saying a word.

The drive was quiet, the kind of calm that made you feel sleepier. You stared out the window, the passing buildings turning into light streaks making your eyes heavy.

You were surprised by how comforting Jungkook’s presence was—like yesterday had never happened, but between then and now, so much had occurred, and he felt… strangely familiar.

Jungkook would glance at you every now and then, but the two of you didn’t speak.

The silence spoke words that didn’t need to be said. You basked in the comfort of it throughout the rest of the drive.

The drive felt long, but somehow it went by quickly. Jungkook pulled over with ease, and he glanced at you when you unbuckled your seatbelt.

"Hey, thank you again for tonight— for everything," you say, the hum of the car steady, matching the rhythm of your heart.

He nods. Then he meets your eyes. Then he smiles.

You watch the curve of his mouth, your eyes lingering on the silver ring in his lip.

He catches your gaze, then the rest of your face, then your lips.

Your heart beats loudly now, echoing against the steady hum of the car.

And just as you thought your heart was about to leap out of your chest—

"Goodnight," Jungkook says softly, his voice low and steady, his gaze lingering on yours.

For a moment, it feels like you’ve forgotten how to breathe. You manage to say "goodnight" in the faintest voice, barely audible.

You step out of the car and make your way quickly to your apartment building. Once you reach your unit and close the door behind you, you hear the soft sound of his car pulling away.

And as you settle into the warmth and comfort of your house, a deep sense of calm settles over you. A wave of déjà vu washes over you, making you pause.

You close your eyes, trying to remember when you’ve felt this way before.

And you can almost feel the steady hum of the engine vibrating through you.

 Your mind drifts back to the car.

With Jungkook.

🐙 a/n: Hiii!!! Please let me know whatchu think and which part you liked, or did not like lol! I like hearing your thoughts <3 again, thanks for reading and see you in Part 3! Mwaaahh 😘 or if you have kwesjins, letmeknowww!!!

Taglist: @taekritimin123 @vantelover1306 @random-musingsss @likewtaf @jeonmaleficent @daskewl @almatiarau

🐙 Let me know in the comments if you want to be added! 😘

[sanguineterrain]

THE PT2 OF REPORTER! READER AND JASON OH.MY.GOD I LOVEEEED IT could you pleaaase do a pt3? 🙏 i need them to kiss already 😩 maybe someone from the batfam or even roy go to jason's house and be like ??????who are you????? to reader please💕 i love your writing, i hope you have a nice day💖

here it is! hope y'all enjoy :) part 1 | part 2

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. tw: gunshot wounds, injured jason, nightwing cameo, patching up, kissing. almost 2.2k

****

You're being a snoop.

In your defense, you're a reporter with too much time on your hands in the Red Hood's apartment. It's impossible not to snoop.

It's also been four days since you moved in. You kind of feel like a crazy ex, hunting for proof that Hood's cheating on you.

So far, you've found nothing except for a worrying amount of hidden firearms. There's a handgun in the toaster. What the hell.

You've been trying to work on the case, but it's hard to investigate when you're in witness protection. Hood is out right now chasing a lead. He had said not to worry about it, but how can you not? How can you not worry about him?

You glance at the clock. 9:24. Hood was supposed to be home half an hour ago. He said he was chasing a lead. You didn't want him to go alone, but you're also pretty shit at avoiding assassins, so.

You've ordered Chinese food from the select list of restaurants Hood said you can order from. He left a wad of cash for you to use. When you paid, you had a moment's pause.

Is the Red Hood your sugar vigilante?

Hm. Not something you're willing to explore right now.

You chew a nail and pick at a crab rangoon. Hood miraculously (or, maybe not so much, considering his stalker tendencies) chose your favorite Chinese restaurant. Usually, you'd have gobbled up your dinner by now. But you can't stop looking at the clock.

The floorboards in the hall creak. You're up instantly, and you go to the door. You wait for Hood's confirmation text that it's him outside. It doesn't come.

There's hushed voices. You run back to the toaster and grab the gun. You have no idea how to use it, but it can't be that hard, right? Point and shoot?

The door opens. You aim the gun. Right in Nightwing's face.

"Whoa," he says, lifting his free arm. His other holds up Hood, who's bleeding from his shoulder and thigh. Holy fuck.

"Safety's on, smarty," Hood slurs, more than a little out of it. "We gotta fix y'posture."

"Oh my God," you say, dropping the gun and racing to help Hood.

Nightwing takes a step back. Hood grunts as he's dragged along.

"Uh, who are you?" Nightwing asks.

"Gotham Gazette," you say on instinct.

"They're w'me," Hood mumbles. "Pu' me down, Wing."

"Why do you have a civilian in your apartment?" Nightwing asks, helping Hood onto the couch.

You run into your bedroom and return with two pillows to support Hood's head.

"You got shot?" you ask, voice going high. "What the actual fuck, Red?!"

"Hood, why do you have a civilian in your apartment?"

Hood groans. "Can we save questions for th'end?"

"Jesus," Nightwing says. "You're ridiculous."

"That's what I said," you grumble, removing Hood's equipment.

"Great. There's two 'f ya. This is why I didn't wanna come here," Hood says. "My reporter gets nervous, Dickface."

"You coming home shot would make any reasonable person nervous, you jerk," you say, scowling.

"Oh my God," you whisper. "God, Red, what did you—"

You peel back Hood's jacket. His undershirt is sticky with blood and singed skin. Your first real, live gunshot wound.

"Wing's got it, sweet," Hood says. "Go on, y'don't gotta see this. 'S gross, I know."

"I'm not going anywhere," you say firmly. You look at Nightwing. "Do you have a problem with me being here?"

"Well, a civilian shouldn't—"

"Good. What do you need from me?"

"Go have a cup'a tea," Hood says.

You glare. "I wasn't talking to you, Helmet Boy."

"Ever hear'a bedside manner?"

"No. Hence why I'm a reporter."

Hood slumps against the couch. That worries you more—if he doesn't have the energy to fight back, his injuries must be bad.

Anxiously, you look at Nightwing. He presses his lips together and then makes a decision.

"Okay. I need hot water and the first aid kit under the microwave."

You nod. "Got it."

You fetch his requests and return. Nightwing gets to work on Hood's thigh first. You hover, finally settling near Hood's head. He's in his undershirt, his tactical pants, and his boots. You touch the side of his helmet. He turns his head to you.

"Didn't I tell ya t'beat it?" he asks.

"Can't get rid of me that easily." You look at Nightwing. "Is it bad?"

"His thigh isn't bad. Bullet missed anything major and went clean through. I'm just patching him up. Gave him some painkillers. Gonna be a bit before they kick in."

You watch Nightwing pull a needle through Hood's skin for half a second before you turn away. Hood grunts.

"Don't gotta stay," he says quietly. "Lotta blood."

"You're hurt," you say. You don't know what else to say, how to put your urgency into words. Physically, you can't leave Hood's side.

"'M tough," he mumbles. "Toughest guy on the block."

"Dumbest too," Nightwing says, cutting the thread.

"Look who's talkin'."

Their dynamic is odd. Not what you expected, considering how empty the outside of Hood's fridge is. You couldn't find any other photos of friends or family.

"Alright." Nightwing sighs and shifts over. "Now the shoulder. Hood, did it go through?"

"'Fraid not, Blue. Gonna hafta deep dive."

You make a weak noise in your throat. Nightwing pinches Hood's side. Hood winces.

"No, no. I was jokin'. Stupid joke. Sorry."

"I should've never let you go out alone," you say.

"Let me? 'M a stubborn man. Even the Bat can't make me do shit."

"Understatement of the century," Nightwing says, studying the wounds. "You're gonna need to take off your helmet for this one."

They both look at you. You puff up.

"I'm not—"

"Look," Nightwing says gently. "I know you're—"

"Blindfold! You can blindfold me." You get up and look around. "What can we use for a..."

"I think I have a black tie in the top middle drawer," Hood says.

You race to his room and race back with the tie. It smells like the same lavender detergent as your sheets. Nightwing and Hood are whispering when you return; they stop talking as soon as you enter. You pretend not to notice.

"'Kay. Nightwing?" You hand him the tie. "Would you like to do the honors?"

"Weirdest patching up I've ever done," Nightwing says.

"I've had weirder," Hood says.

Nightwing ties the tie around your head. "Okay?"

You nod. "Good."

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Hood asks.

You roll your eyes. "I don't know, Red."

"Don' roll ya eyes a'me."

You raise your brows. "How did you—"

"Magic. Do it, Wing."

There's some rustling, a click, and then you can hear Hood's breathing, just like you did a few nights ago.

"This is gonna hurt," Nightwing warns.

Hood hums. "Nothing I can't handle."

The sound of a bullet being dug out of flesh is one you never want to hear again. Hood's strangled groan is a million times worse.

"Almost done, Little Wing," Nightwing whispers. "I'm sorry. Almost done."

"Red?" You inch forward, searching for his hand. He takes it and squeezes.

"'M fi–ine," he says, sounding very much not fine. "Ah, shit. Ha-hate shoulder wounds."

You move closer, cradling his whole arm. Hood grunts. He strokes your knuckles with his thumb.

"'S okay," he says. "'M okay."

His breathing returns to normal after several minutes. You hold his hand the entire time. There's some rustling, and you hear Nightwing stand.

"He'll be okay. He just needs to rest."

"What can I do?" you ask, blindfold still on.

"Well—"

"Nothin'," Hood says. "I'm peachy. Just needa sleep it off."

You whip your head around. "You got shot!"

"Not my first bullet and won't be my last. Here, lemme put on my helmet—"

"Hood, no! My God, you're insane."

"You're realizing this now?" he asks. "'S fine, I can do it—"

"Okay!" Nightwing says loudly. "I'm gonna go. It was nice to meet you. I'm glad Hood has a..."

"Reporter," Hood finishes.

"...Right. A reporter who... cares so much about him. Uh-huh."

It's quiet for a moment. You know they're having a conversation, but you can't see them.

"Don't tell B," Hood says.

Nightwing laughs. "Oh, you're in the shit. A reporter in your apartment and two bullet wounds? You owe me big."

"We're working a case together, and I'm not trying to expose Hood," you say. "I don't even care who you two are."

That is a lie, but whatever. Vigilantes are a paranoid breed. You can relate.

Nightwing sighs. "Alright, okay. I won't say anything. Make sure he doesn't bleed out. If anything changes, call me on his phone."

"I will. Thank you for helping him."

"What I'm here for," Nightwing says, and he sounds like he means it. "Hood?"

"'M fine, Wing. Go home to your girl."

"Ahem. Right. Good night."

The window creaks and then it's just you and Hood. You make yourself comfortable on the floor next to the couch, blindfold still on. You don't mind the dark. Touching Hood, you feel safe.

"Red?"

"Hmm?"

"Oh. Thought you were asleep."

"No, but Wing's lecture had me gettin' there." He squeezes your hand. "Y'okay?"

"Yes."

You lace your fingers together. Hood's hand is cold. You hold it close and try to warm it up.

"Take that off," he says. "I'll put the helmet on."

"Don't be an idiot. You'll jostle your stitches."

"Bossy, bossy..."

You sigh. "Red, whatever you did tonight—"

"Y'know I won't let anything happen to you, right?" he says. "Right?"

"What if you'd died tonight, Hood?"

You eyes are damp. He squeezes your hand again.

"I wouldn't. Not goin' anywhere."

"You have no control over that, and making such promises is outrageous. Why wouldn't you get proper medical attention?" you ask.

"'Cause that requires Batman, and he and I had a tiff."

"A tiff."

"Mmhm."

It sounds like more than that, but you drop it.

"Red, I was so worried."

"Smarty, th' others would take care of ya if anything hap—"

"I was worried about you! I was worried you weren't coming back, Red."

Silence.

"I... I care about you. I mean, yeah, I care about the case, and I wanna bring in the bad guys, but shit, Red. Not at your expense."

He lets go of your hand. Then, a finger dances across your cheek. You gasp.

"Y'really trust me, huh?" he asks quietly.

"Of course." You swallow. "Hood, of course I trust you."

"Shit." A thumb on your lip. "Shit, smarty pie. Why y'trust me so easy?"

His accent is thick with exhaustion. You love it.

"You have a nice voice," you say unthinkingly.

"Goddamnit." He huffs. "You gotta go t'bed, sweetheart."

Your heart pounds. "Why?"

"'Cause otherwise I'm gonna kiss ya. And this whole thing is gonna go t'shit. And you're my favorite reporter."

You lean in. "Red—"

"No." He catches your cheek with his hand. "Bad reporter. Breach a' ethics."

"I'll let you," you say. "Do it, I won't stop you."

"This is the adrenaline talkin'. You were scared, that's why."

You shake your head. You've never been more sure of anything. But you have to make sure that he's sure.

You grab his wrist. "Are you thinking clearly? Are you high?"

"Wing gave me one painkiller, sweet. Takes at least three t'knock me out."

And that weighs you down for a moment, remembering that Hood isn't what you thought he was. He isn't a villain. He's a man who's known unfathomable amounts of pain. He's a man who's killed men. Who'd kill for you.

A man made of flesh and blood and scars and dark curls and a warm, warm neck and... and...

"Shit," Hood says.

And then he kisses you. For a second. Then he pulls back.

"Sorry," he whispers against your mouth. "Sorry, I—"

"No."

You pull him back, cupping the back of his neck. He makes a tiny noise. You start to speak, to worry, but Hood keeps you still with a hand on your arm.

His mouth is hot, a little uncoordinated, but sweet all the same. You're careful to follow his lead. His lips are chapped. He has a little scruff; you stroke his face. It suits him. Anything would.

You cannot turn away from this. From him. That is certain.

You pull away for breath and so you don't undo Nightwing's hard work. You listen to Hood's harsh breathing, pleased that you're the reason for it.

"Wait," he says. "Wait, l-lemme—"

Hood starts to pull off your blindfold. You grab it instantly.

"Red, no. Don't show me just because we kissed."

"But y'don't-don't even know what I look like. How d'you know I'm somebody y'wanna kiss?"

"Because I do. And I will kiss you in the dark for as long as you want me to. Don't do it just because you're afraid of losing me otherwise."

He draws circles on your cheek with his thumb. "Trusting me like that 's crazier than anything I've done, smarty."

"Well, don't we make quite the pair?"

"What, crazy?"

You smile. "I was thinking brave. But it is a fine line."

[kimhargreeves]

A Flashy Act-Buggy x Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Summary: You and Luffy find yourself with new members for your small pirate crew, quickly after stealing the map to the grand line, you're all kidnapped by a crew of pirates.

(Based on the One Piece Live Action!! since no one has written about Buggy which has surprised me. Enjoy this one shot Buggy fans!! You guys can decide if you want part 2 to include smut or not😩 next part will be written depending on how well people like this🤡)

"You know I'm gonna be king of the pirates. It's the first time I've had a ship like this." Luffy excitedly told the ginger haired girl.

"I know you've told me that many times already. Can you please be silent for once?" She asked getting annoyed by Luffy's constant talking.

"You be quiet. The kid's just excited." The green man known as Zoro told Nami.

Nami was trying to open the lock which was protecting the map inside.

Both of them unexpectedly helped us, when Luffy and I broke inside to find the map to the grand line, with a bit of help from Koby who had been kidnapped by Alvida. Thankfully Luffy saved him, the young boy said he wanted to join the Marines.

Luffy and I had entered and quickly met Nami and Zoro. Zoro was tied up with Nami dressed as a Marine trying to also have the map Luffy and I were after.

I have been by Luffy's side since many years now. Since he was a small boy, I am only just a couple of years older but I was the second person who raised him. The first being my older brother,l Shanks.

Just earlier the four of us were fighting a couple of Marine soldiers with Axe Hand Morgan trying to stop us, and almost did. If it weren't for Zoro and Luffy's help then we might've already been executed.

"He's just being enthusiastic about all of this. There's no need to be so mean." I said glaring at Nami and she glared back as well.

I decided to not say anything else to her so I walked over to where Luffy was holding onto his straw hat.

He had a smile on his face when he turned to look back at me. "Can you believe this, (Y/N). We finally have have a crew. I can only imagine the look on his face if he were to see me."

"I know he'll be proud. You're slowly becoming a true pirate." I nudge his shoulder and saw him smiling as he stared at the dark skies.

"I think we all make a pretty good team."

"Why do you even protect that hat so much. It looks like to fished it out of the trash."

"One man's trash is another man's treasure." Luffy replied to Nami when she spotted him holding onto the hat.

We all looked back and saw Nami has successfully managed to open the lock. "You did it!" Nami picked the map and unrolled it. With the four of us standing close looking down at it.

Luffy didn't get it or understood where the Grand Line is, so Nami began drawing it for him so he could understand it better. Rogers treasure is hidden somewhere in there.

A loud sort of bomb was heard with the sky now turning red. We all ran out of the ship and saw something explode in the sky. Zoro was the first to fall to the floor and Nami began to cough before she collapsed.

Oh shit. I tried to cover my mouth and nose but to was too late and I also fell to the floor and collapsed.

"Shhh (Y/N)."

I jumped up a bit and opened my eyes to see Luffy a bit too close to me. I rubbed my eyes and tried to stand up but saw that the four of us were inside of a wooden box.

"What..how did we get here?"

"It wasn't the Marines work. Before we all collapsed, I saw a ship heading towards us." Luffy said with Zoro quickly replying to him.

"It'll be easy then. Marines have training. Pirates don't."

We all were quickly met with circus music when the top of the box was removed along with the rest of the box. What the hell?

Zoro, Nami and I looked at each other weirdly when we looked at our surroundings. We were inside of a huge circus tent.

Red and white colored stripes with lights decorating the place, weird looking people and a crowd that were seated but we're tied by their ankles.

The crowd continued to clap with Luffy doing the same but Nami and I stopped him.

"No no no. Stop clapping! It's all wrong"

The four of us looked over at where the voice was coming from and we all looked to our left, and saw a tall man come through dressed entirely as a clown.

Long coat, bright blue long hair with exaggerated makeup and a red clown nose.

"The spotlight was late, it missed my entrance. And where oh where is the lion?" He said standing close to a man with white bear ears?

"Heyy. I know you." Luffy said which made me look back at him wishing he hadn't spoken.The man with blue hair turned to look at us. Wait..Luffy is right, we've seen him before.

"I saw your Wanted poster at Shell's town. You're the clown guy..umm..uhh. Binky, right?" He asked.

I nudged Luffy's shoulder. "Shut up, Luffy. That's Buggy." I muttered seeing that the clown kept his eyes on us.

"Buggy." The pirate corrected and grinned. "Buggy the Clown. Buggy, the Flashy Fool. Buggy, the Genius Jester." He said when no one spoke, seems like no one here knows about him.

"That one beside you seems to be the only one who's heard about me." I felt nervous when his blue eyes landed on me and he smiled.

I had only heard of him, and saw him on the Wanted poster. But I swear I must've at least since him once before…

He's creepy..but weirdly find him attractive. Maybe it's just my brain distracting myself from danger, who knows.

Luffy seemed impressed, "Wow. You have a lot of names."

I nodded my head and looked at Luffy, "He does. Everyone in the East Blue knows who he is."

"What did you just say?" His expression changed when I suddenly said that. Which made me confused.

"That everyone knows who you are?"

"Nose?!" I was paralyzed when Buggy came over and was now holding onto my face.

"Are you making fun of my nose?" He said a bit too close to me.

"I swear I wasn't! But..now that you mention it, is that thing real?" I asked genuinely wanting to know.

Buggy tilted his head as he stared at me, "You're kinda cute." He hummed and grinned

I saw Luffy's hand slowly started to try and tough the clowns nose until he smacked his hand away. The clown grinned looking down at me and stepped back letting go of me.

"You think you're so clever… What's real is I've been scheming for months to steal that map from old Axe Hand Moron. Only to find out that I was upstaged by four little nobodies, who stole it from right under my no-…No!! It's in my head now."

"Hey! I'm not a nobody. I'm Monkey D. Luffy. And I will be king of the pirates." My best friend said making Buggy laugh.

"Oh! Now that's funny. My bounty poster graces the marquee of every Marine Outpost for miles. And my menagerie of outcasts and freaks is the most dreaded pirate crew the East blue has ever known. I am destined to find One Piece. And when I do. I will be King."

"No, you won't. 'Cause I'm gonna find it first." Luffy told him.

Zoro stepped between us and looked at the other clowns behind Buggy. "I am Roronoa Zoro. Drop your weapons now and I may let you live."

This made Buggy laugh while looking at the green haired stoic man.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a celebrity in our midst. Too bad I hate sharing the spotlight. Now, maybe we should skip right to the finale."

Buffy retrieve a set of blades and smiled at us.

"My freaks put quite a bit of a rehearsal time into this little abduction. And if I can reward them with that map.. I suppose I'll have to offer them a pound of flesh instead."

Nami stepped between Luffy and I now, now looking at Buggy. "Wait. What if I have something else to offer you? Something more valuable than the map? What if I give you a new freak for your crew?"

"A rare talent. The most spectacular act in all the East Blue. Besides you, of course."

Nami glanced back at me and I glared back. Nami has grabbed Luffy's straw hat and tossed it up, just when Luffy showed his devil fruit powers, Nami left running.

"That little bitch." I whispered glaring at where she left.

It wasn't long at all when they brought her back and she revealed that Buggy's crew had destroyed the entire town.

He shrugged his shoulders as he stared at her. "Not everything. I let 'em keep their hands."

The sign for "clap" was lifted again, making the poor towns people begin to clap.

All the lights were suddenly focused on Buggy again. "I know one of you has my map, and I'm going to get it back." He said in a serious voice now.

"What was it you said, Rubber boy? That ir was in a safe place. Don't look so surprised. I got eyes and ears everywhere."

"I know where it is." I spoke up making all eyes turn to look at me.

I began to laugh as I showed the clowns and Buffy my middle finger. "You can all suck it or shove it up your asses.

Buffy clapped and at the people surrounding him. "Okay! Let's make our guests uncomfortable in the green room." A few clowns came to grab Nami and Zoro.

While another pair came to grab Luffy, Buggy stood behind me grabbed my neck and grinned looking at Luffy and looking back down at me.

"And I am gonna have a chat with our new pals.."

[strawberryforks]

Can you please write something for Tim Bradford where the reader is his rookie? Kind of like a grumpy /sunshine fic?? I just started watching the rookie and I'm literally in love with him😩

reckless smiles

warnings: probably swearing, mentions of DV & guns, other police stuff, nepotism (oops)

a/n: got you anon! hope this works! 🙈🙈 as always, asks are SO open! i’m working on a part two to the other TR fic i posted (per request) and if anyone likes this one there’s another small fic in this little mini series already written that i could post! it’s the call with barnaby <3 anyways, ENJOY!!

Sergeant Grey stands at the front of the briefing room. You’re sitting in the front row (like all rookies do), just happy to be here, beside fellow trainees Nolan, West, and Chen. “Rookies!” booms the sergeant, “today, we’re going to switch things up. Nolan you’re with Lopez, Chen with Bishop, West with me,” your face falls, smile collapsing completely, morphing into something else as you realize who's left to pair up with. Who you’ll be riding with today.

Tim Bradford.

Nolan leans over from his chair. He rests his hand on your shoulder while standing up and moving past you. But first, “You’ll be okay,” he assures—Chen, Bradford’s usual victim, doesn’t say a thing. Instead she shoots you a squashed smile and mouths “good luck,” you know you’ll need it but… but you’ll make the best out of it. Like always.

You steel your expression, trying to wipe away the upset that slipped onto your face momentarily. Despite Tim Bradford being the biggest asshole in the LAPD he’s your superior and you were raised to respect rank… even if you don’t respect the person.

“L/n, you’re with Bradford. Try not to kill each other. You’re good cops, we need you both.”

“She’s a boot. Hardly a cop,” Tim Bradford, asshole extraordinaire, chimes in.

“This batch of rookies is a good one and you know that. L/n is a legacy, top scores in the academy and a record number of arrests for her first year on the force. That’s not easily dismissable.”

Officers began to trickle out of the room, Lopez and Bishop were the first to leave, and then your friends—their rookies, Nolan and Chen, with.

“Feeding me to the wolves, West?” Jackson grins back at you, shrugs, and the door shuts behind him. Even Grey leaves, not wanting to be a part of this. The entire briefing room is empty save from you, Tim Bradford, and Smitty. Smitty, who has his hand inside a miniature bag of popcorn and his feet crossed at the ankles and stacked on top of the desk in front of him. He smacks loudly and Tim shoots him a withering glare. “Fine, fine,” he says, palms raised, “I’ll go. Just uh… tell me how it–”

“Smitty!”

He leaves the briefing room and then you’re left alone.

“Boot,”

“Sir,” you echo.

“I know you’re used to special treatment but that’s not how I work. I’ll be driving,” sure you (with your history) love to be behind the wheel but that’s not a problem, Tim doesn’t let Lucy drive either, it isn’t bias, just how he does things. “You do what I say when I say–none of that reckless idiotic behaviour I hear about from Harper. Just because she has unorthodox methods does not mean you should be copying them. You’re a rookie. Today, my rookie.”

“I don’t expect special treatment. And yes sir.”

Tim crosses his arms across his chest and tilts his head ever so slightly. He can’t figure you out–it frustrates him that he wants to. You’re always smiling and even now, looking at him with as close to a frown as he’s ever seen on your face, there’s something in your eyes. Not happiness but challenge, maybe? Determination. A sparkle that can’t be dimmed. Not with his shouting, not with his Tim-Tests. He almost takes it as a challenge. He almost tries to break you, to interrupt that inability to back down–the one he knows will get you killed.

The next week is awful but every day you show up to work with a smile (sometimes faux–but fake it until you make it and all that) and the drive to do better, to impress him.

You can’t.

At a DV call, the assaulted woman is terrified. Tim, he would leave that detail out, instead focusing on your shortcomings (how he had threatened to give you a blue page, how you sat there and took it: “I’d understand, is all I’m saying. If you need to put that blue page in my file, go ahead. And I know my lack of regret is not making this better for myself but… I’d do it again,”) that when the victim pulled a gun and pointed it at your head, after you arrested her husband, you decided to take away Tim’s shot. She was frantic and angry, losing her absolute mind, but moreover she was scared and when she pointed the gun at you–safety off, finger pulsing over the trigger because all of her was shaking. Tim had her in his crosshairs. You saw this and moved. You moved, knowing she would follow, and putting yourself at risk while making sure she couldn’t be killed. In your eyes, she was still the victim. She did fire her weapon. Into the ceiling, after you knocked the gun away.

Two similar incidents follow. Ones where you put yourself in needless danger.

You’re reckless. Impulsive. He’s seen you speed off duty, seen you sweet-talk the would-be arresting officer, give him your number and drive away scott free. All because of your smile, because of the twinkle in your eyes. The brightness, the innocent glow. Tim has seen you out at the club, drinking your bodyweight in booze, dancing and singing karaoke, and even a Clip Tok video of you soaking wet after diving into a partially frozen lake to rescue a dog. The public went wild over that one–Aaron Thorsen was in frame too, boosting the videos popularity. Tim could recognize the sentiment. It was great how determined you were, how kind you were, and the soft spot you had for animals and people alike but he was there and had hated every second of that terrifying call.

Tim corrects you, you smile and take it, switching your coffee into your other hand, handing the one you bought him over.

Tim shouts at you, that’s fine, you smile and take it.

That’s what you do, what you’ve always done: smile and endure.

“It’s downpouring, good thing our shift is almost over.”

“I’ve always liked the rain. It’s nice,”

“What part of getting rained on is nice, Boot? It’s basically the sky crying.”

“We need rain. If it’s good for plants it can’t be bad for us.”

“I find that logic flawed.”

“You find a lot of logic flawed, sir.”

“What was that?”

You tell him nothing, that you didn’t mean it, and your shift is over. Heading back to the station to grab your things you make your way into the locker room. Lucy’s there, pulling on her jacket and taking out her umbrella. “How do you do it, Luce?” you ask.

“Do what?”

“Deal with Tim. He hates me. I try so hard and he just hates me,”

“I don’t think…”

“He does. You know he does. He hates me because of my last name, because he doesn’t think I’m a good cop. Because I smile. I don’t know what to do. No one’s ever hated me for smiling before…”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “Just hang in there. We’ve only got a few months left before we’re P2s then Grey’ll let you ride with someone else, I’m sure. Maybe with me–how about it?”

You nod, and give Lucy a small smile. She sees through it, how tired you look, how defeated. She rests her hand on your shoulder. “I’ve got to get going. Jackson’s waiting for me–I said I’d cook tonight.”

“See ya, Luce. Have a goodnight and say ‘hi’ to West for me.”

“Of course.”

Lucy slings her bag over her shoulder and leaves the locker room. The door swings open a second time and in walks Tim. He’s silent as he walks over to you. As he mirrors your movements across the small room, grabbing his own things from the cubby space.

Hehearditallhehearditallhehearditall.

You paste a smile on, almost wincing as you slip past him and– “Boo–Y/n.”

Your back faces him and all of you wants to keep it that way. My shift is over–I don’t have to endure, you think, but then you hear your father’s voice. Hear his lessons on respect, on how things should work in the department, how to interact with coworkers, superiors–even the awful ones. You turn to him, you look up, meet his icy blue eyes and repress a shiver. You forget to smile. Your slips stay pressed into a small line as you look at him, realizing that you are too close. You’re too close and you should back up but you can’t. Your breathing heavily, you realize Tim is too. He’s looking down at you with melting eyes. The frost, the coldness, seem to fade away as his hand flys to the back of your neck.

Your tongue darts out, wets your lips, and then his press to yours. Your eyes flutter shut, your body reacting to his touch while your mind hasn’t caught up. TimBradfordiskissingme. MyTOiskissingme. Those thoughts are the only ones that make it through the fog. The questions are satiated by how he’s making you feel. His lips are warm and soft, like his breath, when he pulls away for a moment, eyes boring into your own. “Is this–”

“Yes,” you say. It’s okay. It’ssookay. Betterthanokay.You nod a few times for clarification and one of his large hands lands on the small of your back, pressing you to him, the other moves beside your head as he pushes you against the wall, caging you in.

You’ve never been more okay with being trapped. By him, by his mouth.

His kisses were talking and when they stopped, he was ready to.

Staring down at you with a fast beating heart (no match for the rate your own was thumping in your chest at) he smiled back, for once. It was infectious. A grin split your face and you felt blissful, for a moment. Like you and Tim were the only two in the world, like nothing else mattered, like you were floating in a bubble, transcending your problems and surroundings.

It was a nice bubble, “I don’t hate you.”

Until he popped it. Until he reminded you of what had just happened, of what led to this and the conversation you had with Lucy–the one he overheard.

“I don’t hate you,” he said.

“I don’t believe you,” you blurt.

He raises a brow. His expression says ‘you don’t believe me? After that?’ and fair enough, because all you believe now is that you’re incredibly confused. Incredibly, very confused.

“You yell at me, you constantly talk about how I’m not ready to be a cop, you regularly threaten to give me blue pages and criticize what I do in my freetime–”

“None of that means I hate you.”

“It doesn’t make it seem like you like me! You get mad at me for smiling!”

“I don’t… okay, I get annoyed sometimes but it’s situational. When I’m reaming you out, you shouldn’t be smiling.”

“It’s that or cry! I don’t like being yelled at.”

“I don’t like when you put yourself at risk constantly. That’s why I yell, that’ why I reprimand you. You’ll make a damn good cop but no one wants you to make yourself a fucking martyr. No one wants you to put everything else–the job, a dog–above your own life! I get mad because I care,” he argues. Then lowly, “too damn much.”

“Bradford…”

“It’s Tim, to you.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to worry anyone. I just…” you trail off, Tim still watching you closely. “I can’t not try to save someone. I became a cop to do good, to help people, not to hurt them, to shoot them, to arrest innocents and victims of circumstance. There’s enough awfulness in the world that I don't want to contribute. I didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?”

“I didn’t want to be a cop but it’s what my family does–I like the job now, but the way I work it, you know?”

“I get it. I do. You just need to be more careful. You weren’t even on the clock on that call,”

You’re not exactly sure which call he’s referencing. You’ve intervened a few too many times when you shouldn’t have been on duty. It’s how you have (as said by Grey) ‘a record number of arrests for your first year on the force’ because you don’t let injustice slide just because you’re not getting paid. That, and because you’re ridiculously nosey.

“What call?”

“With the drug dealer and that stupid dog.”

“Hey,” you scold. “Barnaby is far from stupid.”

“Barnaby?”

“Yeah. He was a stray so I kept and named him. We trauma bonded–no way I was letting him go to a shelter after that.”

“No, no, that makes sense. I’m just wondering how the hell you came up with Barnaby.

You shrug; it’s a good name.

“Bradford!” shouts Grey, “you in there?”

Tim walks towards the door, shouting back and confirming his presence.

“My office! There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Alright!” Tim turns to you, he mouths his goodbyes and slips from the room leaving you incredibly confused.

[covenofagatha]

hey soooooo if your requests are still open... what do you think about a pt. 3 with Father Agatha where she fucks reader on the altar with her strap (the church is empty)... like... and Agatha has reader recite the Rosary, and for every mystery completed reader gets an orgasm... and maybe Agatha has like a breeding kink sort of and says she wants to make reader the next virgin mary...

obviously if you want and feel comfortable with all this, i really truly love all your stories!!

Hooooooly shit this was insane i immediately had to write this

also the rosary is so long 😩

Forgive me, Father (part 3)

What the request said lol

Word count: 3200

Warnings: light bondage, religious sex, altar sex, fingering, oral, strap on, cum lube, breeding kink, spanking, dubcon, priest agatha is so corrupt, naive reader, think this is it

The next time you go to confession, you don’t even make it into the booth before Father Agatha intercepts you, almost like she’s been waiting. 

“Come back for more, angel?” She asks, sitting in a pew, facing the altar. You almost walked right by her without noticing. 

You look around the rest of the church. There’s no one else in sight. She taps the spot on the bench next to her and you sit. 

Just the close proximity makes your heart beat faster. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask. 

Father Agatha shrugs. “I like to sit in here when it’s empty and pray. Helps me connect with God, I can hear him better.” 

You frown and try to quiet your thoughts and your breathing to see if you can hear anything. “What is God saying right now?” If you had looked closer, you would’ve seen the smirk on her lips as you played right into her trap before she reset her face.

“Nothing good,” she sighs heavily and your eyes widen in fear. “Do you remember the Annunciation?” 

“Of course,” you answer with a nod. “When the angel Gabriel came down and told Mary that she was pregnant with Jesus because she had found favor with God.” You had strived to live a life as pure as Mary had, and thanks to Father Agatha, you feel like you’re on the right path.

She gives you a wry smile, her eyes still racked with seriousness. “And do you remember why God sent his only son down to us?” 

“To save us from sin,” you say immediately. The most noble sacrifice anyone could make. 

“And it worked for a while,” Father Agatha says sadly. “But now sin is running rampant again. However, God has an idea for how to stop it.” 

Your mouth falls open a little. You had no idea it was getting that bad out in the world. You make it your mission to help the priest, no matter what it takes. “What does He need? What can we do?” 

“Another vessel, for another child. A pure of heart maiden, just like Mary was,” she says, finally meeting your eyes. Your heart skips a beat. 

“Me? Carry God’s child? But–” 

She cuts you off. “Proverbs 3:5 says, ‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.’ I know it may be scary, angel, but I am here to help. I will shepherd the child unto you, if you so wish to help God in this way.” 

You think for a moment, weighing your options. It has always been a dream to be a true steward of the Lord, and everyone has to do their part. You remember a verse from Psalms. “The Lord is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to him,” you recite and Agatha smiles, very pleased. 

She stands up, brushing past you and walking up the stairs to the altar. You follow her. 

“How is this going to work?” You question. The Bible doesn’t go into specifics with Mary.

“Patience, angel,” Father Agatha says, pulling out the bread and wine of Christ for Communion and a rosary. “There are many things we will need to do in order to get you ready to take the child.” 

She holds up the wafer and you bow, holding out your hands. She doesn’t move, just raises an eyebrow. You stand there for a second, dumbfounded. 

“What are other ways you can take Communion?” She says, glancing down to the floor. A light clicks in your head and, for the third time in front of her, you drop to your knees. 

This time, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue, and she places the bread on it, holding eye contact. Her gaze burns into you and you can’t help but feel that same heat you always do with her. Once you swallow, she presses the chalice of wine to your lips and you let her pour some down your throat. 

The air is so charged around the two of you and you wonder if this is part of the ceremony. 

“Stand up,” she orders and you shoot to your feet. She flips you around and lifts you up so you’re sitting on the altar and you gasp. 

“I can’t be on this,” you protest but she shushes you. 

“It’s okay, angel,” she says soothingly, hands coming to rub your thighs. Her touch feels good and it momentarily makes you forget about your qualms. “God will allow it since he knows the burden you’re about to bear. Now, do you remember that special toy I used on you last time?” 

You nod, feeling the wetness in your underwear grow as you think back to that memory. The way it felt so big, the way it stretched you out, the way it felt when you orgasmed over it. 

Father Agatha is wearing pants today, you notice for the first time, and she unzips them to pull something out. 

Unlike the one from last time, which was purple, this one is skin colored and has two round things on the bottom. She squeezes the globes under the toy and a dribble of white liquid comes out from the tip. 

“What is that?” You ask in awe. You wonder what it would taste like. 

She swipes at the bead of moisture and holds it up so you can get a better look. “This is a different type of tool, one that can hold cum.” She says the new word slowly so you can remember it. “This is what’s going to go inside your little pussy, this is what’s going to fill you up with the new child of Christ.” 

For some reason, the thought of having the cum inside you makes you grow even hotter. “Okay,” you say earnestly. She chuckles at how ready you are. 

“Not quite yet, angel. Remember how we had to work up to it last time? We will need to do the same. But don’t fret. I’ll make it just as enjoyable.” 

She takes the rosary off the altar next to you and waits for you to hold out your arms. Instead of wrapping them around your hands the right way, she twists them around your wrists so you can’t move. A flare involuntarily courses through you at the thought of being bound. 

“Now, be a good girl, and complete your rosary. For each mystery, you’ll get a reward,” she says with a wink, and pulls you closer to the edge of the altar. You watch what she’s doing with bated breath and she bends down so her face is just a breath away from your pussy. 

She pushes up your skirt and slides your underwear to the side, and when her finger slides through your folds, you make the sign of the cross. 

“I believe in God, the Father Almighty,” you begin with the Apostles’ creed. When you get to the Our Father, the memory of you saying this while her fingers were warming you up last time hits you like a train. She finds your clit easily and rubs it, your voice jumping up an octave. 

You make it through that prayer and the three Hail Mary’s with little trouble while she continues just stroking up and down your pussy, feeling it get wetter under her fingertips. 

The Glory Be and the Fatima prayer also come out smoothly as Father Agatha is only teasing. 

You announce the first mystery, Annunciation, and you’re saying the Our Father again when she suddenly slides a finger into you, grinning at the way you gasp and tighten around it. 

She pumps it in and out lazily while you stutter through the rest of the prayer and then she pulls out. You feel empty and she tugs you off the altar and spins you around so that your ribs are pressing into it and your elbows rest on top, hands still tied tightly together by the chain.

This time, she tugs your skirt and underwear off and the cool church air makes you shiver. She grabs your buttcheeks and you gasp. 

“Did your parents spank you when you were a child?” She asks and for some reason, you feel yourself get even wetter at the promise her words hold. 

You nod. “Yes,” you whisper. 

“Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you strike him with a rod, he will not die. If you strike him with a rod, you will save his soul from Sheol,” she quotes. “We need to make sure your body is completely cleansed. You have ten Hail Mary’s, so for each one, I’ll give you a spank.” 

Your breath comes out in stutters and you feel like you’re about to pass out from overheating. The ache inside you is only getting worse. 

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death, Amen.” 

She slaps you before you even have the time to brace yourself. 

The sound echoes throughout the empty church and you clasp your hands so hard that your knuckles turn white. 

“Hail Mary, full of grace,” you say again, eyes rolling to look up at the ceiling like you’re talking straight to God. 

Another spank. This time, your body rocks forward against the altar and it knocks the wind out of your lungs. 

“Hail Mary…” 

Spank. 

“Hail Mary…” 

Spank. 

“Hail Mary…”

Spank. 

“Hail Mary…” 

Spank. 

“Hail Mary…” 

Spank.

You still have three more to go and you’re a mess. 

The wetness between your legs has grown to a flood and is dripping down your legs. Your butt stings and the cold air works to soothe it, but every time you get a semblance of a relief, she hits you again. 

“Hail…Mary…” You take your time on the eighth, dragging it out over a minute to give yourself some time to breathe and recover. She chuckles evilly, rubbing your butt. 

Spank. 

On the ninth time, it doesn’t even feel like you’re saying real words anymore and you can barely register the pain anymore. 

Spank. 

When you finally choke out the tenth one, she hits both of your cheeks as hard as she can at the same time and you groan loudly. 

“Father Agatha,” you whimper and she soothes the aches with her palms. 

“You did so well, angel, so perfect for me. I promise that you are completely purified now and ready for pleasure. But before we get to that, let’s say the Glory Be and the Fatima prayer together.” 

She turns you around so you lock eyes with the priest and chant the two prayers and then you announce the second mystery, the Visitation, and start the Our Father. Father Agatha watches with a fond smile on your face and as you’re still speaking, she nudges your feet apart so your stance is wider. 

When you begin the ten Hail Mary’s again, she reaches down and slides two fingers inside you with no resistance at all because of how wet you are. 

You momentarily stop talking and the priest moans. 

“You’re so wet and warm around me, angel,” she mumbles quietly and you wish your hands weren’t tied together so you could reach out and touch her. 

You resume the prayer and she picks up her pace, twisting and curling, and your recitation is broken up with small gasps and whimpers. Instinctually, you raise your leg up and rest it around her and she chuckles. 

It was clearly the right thing to do because her fingers can somehow get deeper inside you and your head falls back. You’re clenching tighter and you’re getting close as you keep spitting out the words, having been on the edge for awhile since her spanking. 

“Ah ah,” she tuts, slowing down for a second. “You have four more. No orgasm until then.” You whine, pleading with your eyes, but she just smirks and raises a brow, waiting for you to continue. 

You say the words so fast it sounds like you’re auctioning off your soul to the highest bidder. 

And Father Agatha, of course, has won. 

She finally strokes your clit when you finish the tenth and you spasm all over her two fingers, hands pulling so tightly against the rosary that you think you might have indents tomorrow. 

She gently moves her fingers in and out while you finish up the second mystery with the Glory Be and the Fatima Prayer. 

When you’re announcing the third mystery, the Birth of Our Lord, she sinks down to her knees in front of you and you forget to speak. 

You shake your head, trying to figure out what she’s doing, when she lifts a leg up over her shoulder and leans close to your pussy to blow on it. 

Your hips jump and you almost fall, and she helps you rest your back against the altar for balance. 

“What are you doing?” You say in a hushed voice. 

“Say the prayers,” she orders and sucks gentle kisses into your inner thighs. Her mouth on that extremely sensitive place makes you keen as you start to say the Our Father again. But when you begin on the Hail Mary’s, her tongue slides through your folds and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. 

A loud moan claws its way out of your throat and you manage to loosen the rosary around your wrists just enough so you can entangle your hands in her hair. You had no idea that someone could put their mouth on that part of you, but you want Father Agatha to stay there forever. 

She stops and nips at your thigh as a warning to keep going. It is so hard to keep your mind from completely blanking on the words with her hot tongue swirling your clit the way it is, but you somehow manage to make it through four quickly. 

You buck your hips without any sort of rhythm against her face, gasping out the words to the prayer. Her tongue dips into your pussy and strokes against your walls and you think you might die and ascend before God can put his baby in you. 

Like the last time, it’s clear that she won’t let you orgasm unless you finish the mystery, so you speed through again, pretty sure you miss chunks of the prayer at a time. 

Finally, you get to the tenth one, and when you’re almost done, she slides three fingers into you, curls them, and sucks on your clit roughly. 

You orgasm, absolutely drenching her face and fingers again. 

She moves your leg down and stands up, smearing her fingers across your face. 

“How was that?” She asks, smirking. 

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t even know something could feel that good,” you gush. 

And then she grabs the toy and drags it through your folds and you second guess that when she circles your clit with the tip. She presses down lightly and the pressure makes you squirm. 

“Are you ready for me to fill you up?” 

Your heart leaps, but really, you’d do anything to have her inside you again. Two orgasms hasn’t been enough to satiate you and you want to know what it’s like for her cum to be inside you. 

“Please, Father, fill me up.” The words sound dirty falling from your mouth but she just grins and flips you back around, putting you back into the same position as earlier. 

“Fourth mystery,” she demands and your head falls forward onto your chained arms as she pushes the tip in. Even though you are wet and stretched out, there’s still a slight burn. 

The Presentation. You announce it and say the Our Father while she ruts in and out of you, never going in further than the tip. 

You start on the Hail Mary’s and it takes her the entire first one to slide the entire way in. Your voice sounds strangled as you keep talking and she slowly starts to grind into you. 

When you get to the third one, she stops being gentle and begins roughly thrusting, your rips slamming against the altar again and again. She reaches a hand around to rub at your clit and you clench tightly on the toy. 

Father Agatha starts saying things while you keep reciting your prayers and she’s just loud enough to hear over your words. 

“Angel, you’re so perfect, stretched around my cock like this, can’t wait to fill you up, to breed you, watch my cum drip out of you, God you’re taking me so well, need to do this every day, can’t wait to breed you.” 

You don’t really know what she means when she says she wants to breed you, but just based on the way she sounds when she says it, like it’s making her feel as hot as you do, makes you even more wet. 

At this point, you don’t even know if you’re saying the right prayer but things just keep spilling out of your mouth and you go with it. You don’t know how many you’ve said or how many you have left, all you can think about is Father Agatha. 

“You’re so close, angel, just one more and then I’ll make you into the next Virgin Mary with my cum,” she grunts into your ear and you gasp out the words. 

“Amen,” you finally pant out, and you can feel her hand brush past you as she reaches down between her own legs, and the next thing you know, a warmth spreads through you. It triggers your own orgasm, feeling your walls being painted with her cum, and she gently thrusts in and out while you seize around her. “Did it work?” You ask weakly. 

Father Agatha strokes your hair as she says the Glory Be and the Fatima prayer herself. You realize that you forgot to say those after your second orgasm, but you can’t find it in you to care. Since you’re carrying God’s child, you don’t think He will either. 

“I’m going to stay inside you like this to keep the cum in while you say the fifth mystery. It’s called cockwarming. This way, we can try to let it take hold.” 

You nod and begin on the Finding in the Temple. Since she isn’t moving, you aren’t constantly distracted and you’re able to get through the Hail Mary’s without too much of a hassle, although the feeling of being full still is forefront on your mind. 

When you finish the rosary, she pulls out, turns you to face her, and you gasp at the feeling of her cum oozing out of you. 

“But, it was supposed to stay inside me!” You cry, watching in horror as it leaks out and down your legs. 

Father Agatha frowns and collects it with her fingers. “Something must have gone wrong,” she says and then looks up to meet your eyes. “Guess we’ll just have to try again.” 

[reidsglasscs]

hiii can i get a smau percy x daughter of persephone who loves flowers and lives on a farm

FLOWER POWER!

✸ pairing: percy jackson x daughter of persephone!reader smau

✸ notes: tysm for requesting & im sorry this took a hot minute, but i hope you like it!! 🤍

…now playing: love grows (where my rosemary goes) — edison lighthouse

persea_: i’ve officially made friends with the ferns 🫡(thank you yn for not letting them eat me)

tagged: @flowersforyn

view all comments

g_man: are you…are you AWARE of how ferns work?

╰┈➤ persea_: yeah i am. 2 words: chomp chomp

chqsingannabeth: who’s…who’s truck did you steal?

╰┈➤ persea_: what’re you a cop?

flowersforyn: guys don’t be fooled by the second pic, this was the aftermath of him DROPPING me

╰┈➤ persea_: one, didn’t have to expose me like that & two, I SAID I WAS SORRY

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: SORRY ISNT ENOUGH, MY ASS STILL HURTS

╰┈➤ persea_: i bet it does 😗😉

╰┈➤ g_man: reminder that this is a PUBLIC app

ghostking: pls don’t break her

╰┈➤ persea_: did…did u just say PLEASE?

╰┈➤ ghostking: i take it back. break her and i break your neck.

team.leo: why she violating a tree like that

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: leo just bc you didn’t get hugged as a kid doesn’t mean nobody else did 😒

╰┈➤ notpipermclean: OH SHE ATE YOU TF UP WITH THAT ONE. GAGGED

tysonn: ask yn if ferns will be my friend too

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: they absolutely will tyson, we’ll have to bring you out to the farm next weekend <3

╰┈➤ tysonn: yay!

╰┈➤ persea_: me too, right?

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: …

╰┈➤ persea_: RIGHT??

notpipermclean: yn get this loser off our farm, the kids are asking questions

╰┈➤ persea_: PIPER STOP HITTING ON MY GF AND SPREADING FALSE INFORMATION

╰┈➤ notpipermclean: NO🤗 im gonna report you for hate speech

╰┈➤ persea_: mf YOU’RE hate speeching ME

╰┈➤ sp4rky: @ team.leo the girls are fighting 👀

╰┈➤ team.leo: 🍿🫢

…now playing: strawberries & cigarettes — troye sivan

flowersforyn: fav boy on the farm!! 🍓

tagged: persea_

view all comments

chqsingannabeth: your face being cut off of that first pic is CRIMINAL 😩 not percy’s tho, that was a gift from the gods

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: im srry babe, i looked goofy 😔

╰┈➤ chqsingannabeth: oh no ma’am, you could NEVER

╰┈➤ persea_: WE GONNA IFNORE THE COMMENT SBT ME HELLO?!

persea_: the best day with my absolute best girl 🩵

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: kicking my feet & giggling, ILY SEAWEED BRAIN 🤍

╰┈➤ persea_: ILY TOO FLOWER POWER

g_man: WHAT did you do to make those strawberries look so scrumdidliuptious?

╰┈➤ persea_: dyslexia just took me OUT with this one dude 😭

╰┈➤ g_man: nobody was talking to you brotha 🙏

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: grover bud i use my mommy’s magic, hope this helps 🫶

persea_: don’t let her lie to you, people. i thought my first fit was BOMB & then she made me put on that sweater cuz it was cold as hell outside

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: i want you to read that again…slowly

notpipermclean: save me yn the garden princess …save me

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: have no fear bae, im here 🫂

╰┈➤ persea_: yn, babydoll, i beg of you, PLEASE stop hitting on people that aren’t me

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: there’s enough of me to go around perce 😒

╰┈➤ notpipermclean: YEAH PERCY SHARE

sp4rky: why is bro carryin a whole bakery on that swing

╰┈➤ persea_: jason…🤭

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: NAW IF I CANT DO IT YOU CANT DO IT, JASON GET TF OUTTA MY COMMENT SECTION OR ELSE

╰┈➤ sp4rky: I PLEAD THE FIFTH

flowersforyn uploaded a story!

@ g_man replied:

why is bro so silly 😭

idk but he’s the silliest

@ sp4rky replied:

tell him to leave the flying to me

i’m not telling him SHIT from you

RAHH

@ persea_ replied:

idk what ur on about, i look terrifying here

oh yeah, i’m shaking in my boots

great, now can you pls come help me get down?

idk…

YN PLEASE

yknow, i can’t kiss you from up here

i’m otw 🏃‍♀️ 💨

[i-am-a-living-god]

Redraw of this drawing I drew a little over a year ago lol

Please click for better quality

Original under the cut

Tbh I hated this drawing from the moment I finished it. I just hate it so much eghh it looks a little bit like AI and that pisses me off. (Well, obviously this doesn't actually look like AI, and you can tell it's hand-drawn, but still it has that.... Rendering style bleh.)

In my defense, I wasn't used to drawing mutant turtles at all. Anyways the new one is gorgeous, fuck the old one (a purple background, what was I thinking!) I remember I added the rain in a desperate attempt to save it, obviously it didn't work, but it's better with the rain than without so props to me.

He looks like gummy bear 😭

But mhmmmm the perspective on the new one 😩👌

[lalasimmer]

How to convert Sims 4 3D CAS Rooms to Sims 3

Disclaimer: If you’re not familiar with Blender/TSRW/UVs then this tutorial may not be for you. If you don’t have Sims 4 Studio which needs the Sims 4 base game (or don’t know how to extract the meshes without it) this tutorial may not be for you. Honestly it’s pretty straight forward, but there’s a lot of trial and error and going in game and out of game checking placement, etc. I use Blender 4.1 for this. The older Blender versions annoy me now lol I’m sorry 😅 but you should still be able to do the same things in the older versions. I'm trying to make this as easy as possible. I’m here to answer any questions though 💕 Tutorial below

Things you’ll need:

Blender (whatever version you prefer)

Sims 4 Studio

TSRW ( I use version 2.0.86)

My Christmas CAS Room here

My TSRW work file here

Tutorial:

Find a Sims 4 CAS room that you like and open it up in Sims4Studio. This is the one I'll be using for the tutorial.

In the Texture tab, export the textures. The only textures that matter are the first 3 diffuse. Go to the Meshes tab and export the mesh, it will save as a .blend file. After that you can close out of Sims4Studio.

Open my Christmas CAS Room in TSRW. You'll get this message. Hit ignore and don't send. We only need this file as a reference to resize the SIms 4 CAS room. Export the mesh as an obj, name it whatever you like. You can close TSRW for now.

Open Blender and open the .blend file you exported from Sims4Studio. Make sure to delete studio_mesh_0 as it's just the shadow map and we don't need that. This is what mine looks like after fixing the textures.

Then import the wavefront obj you just exported from TSRW. Again we're just using this as a size reference.

This is what it looks like after I added the obj. I scaled, moved, and rotated the room to match up as close as I could with my reference mesh. When you have it lined up to your liking you can delete the reference mesh. I usually import the sims 3 body to see where my sim would be in CAS as well so feel free to do that too.

Now we have to separate the objects that use transparency in the scene to their own group. The transparent objects will always be located on studio_mesh_1. I usually do this in UV mode. Make sure UV Sync Selection is on. Where the red arrow is, that's the UV Selection button. It's blue so that means its on.

Tip: If you're using the same Blender version I am (I'm not sure if the older versions below Blender 3.0 do this) you can disconnect the alpha in shader editor and then you can easily see what uses transparency because it has a black background like the plants. Don't worry about the one outside the window as that's on the backdrop image and doesn't show in CAS.

Important: Also, make sure you delete the back of the mirror frame or it will show through the mirror in game. I usually select it in the UV editor as well and delete it.

After selecting all the objects that use transparency, I go to the 3D viewport window and press P, then selection. Now they're on their own layer as you can see. That's a very important step so please don't miss it.

Sims 4 CAS Rooms don't have a closed room like ts3 and if you don't add walls/ceiling with planes you'll be able to see that it in CAS. You can do this in any way you're comfortable with. If you don't understand how to do it feel free to ask me. For this tutorial I will not be doing this perfectly lol I've done enough rooms and I'm just trying to teach here 😩

Okay now last is renaming groups to import into TSRW. Make sure it's in this exact order and uses the exact group numbers.

Group 0 - Mirror

Group 1 - Windows/Curtains

Group 2 - View outside the window

Group 3 - Walls

Group 4 - Objects with transparency

Depending on the CAS Room you convert, yours may not have a mirror you know. You can delete groups in TSRW, experiment, feel free to ask me questions as well.

After renaming the groups, select only the groups you renamed and export as an obj. Make sure that object groups is checked so that they can stay in groups.

Open TSRW and open the testroom_cas.wrk file.

After opening the file you'll see this exact room in this tutorial lol because I had to test some things first 😅

Import the CAS room you converted from. You'll get these two messages. Click yes on the first and no on the second.

Import your textures (yours may be different than mine depends on the converter) but most have been the same that I've seen. Group 0 is the mirror it doesn't require a texture. Group 1 and Group 4 usually have the same texture.

After export to sims3pack or export as package file. Make sure you compress your files and you should be good to test your CAS room in game.

If you would like to make your own from the original ts3 cas room, I would suggest watching this Youtube video (it's for TS4 but it still applies and is helpful) and the link to the original ts3 cas room is here. Since we can convert ts4 to ours you could probably just build your own and go from there as well.

Thanks to @mookymilksims for testing things for me and converting her own. If you would like to try this tutorial out and experiment with room placements using @boringbones Ultra wide CAS mod which changes the field of view in cas so that you can see the whole cas room, it is here. I didn't use it for mine, but that's only because I found out about it after from Mooky lol and I'm tired of converting them 😅 but feel free to ask me any questions if you need help 😊

[suosgirl]

i can't stop thinking about your recent story 😩 it's so fluffy 💗 what if suo saves reader from thugs one day, as a gentleman as he is, suo accompanies her until she can finally go home safely. oh! then! they meet again unexpectedly in kotoha's cafe since the reader's classmate wants to buy a coffee. reader gave suo a chinese novel as a way of thanks since she notice that he likes chinese stuff due to his outfit then it made suo curious about her which led him to pinning at her but she's kinda dense HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

A Gentleman (& His Rambler) | Hayato Suo x Reader

Word Count: 4501

୨ৎ Read me before interacting!

୨ৎ Pairing: Hayato Suo x Reader feat. brief (very brief) mentions of Haruka Sakura and Akihiko Nirei

୨ৎ Song Inspiration: Talk Too Much - Reneé Rapp

୨ৎ Warnings: mdni, fluff, f!reader, ooc (definitely ooc sorry ah), angst (?), harassment, insecurities, swearing, kissing, 1 oblivious idiot and 1 lovesick idiot – if I’ve missed one, I apologize + please let me know!

୨ৎ Note: Oh my goodness this was such a fluffy and cute idea ahhh!!! Thank you for the request (and so sorry that it took so long ahh)!! Definitely took a lot of liberties with this (f!reader is written as a college student) but I hope you enjoy the story (and I hope it was somewhere in the ballpark of what you were thinking of hehe)!!!! Additional notes: I wasn’t too comfortable with just writing down any old novel, so I did a bit of research on my end and wrote it in a way that made sense to me as well as Suo’s character! So sorry if this wasn’t really what you had in mind, but I think it flows fairly well with the story so I hope that it makes sense for you as well! ♡

In your defense, at least you talked about things that were interesting. At least, you had thought so, but the puzzled looks on your assailant's faces beg to differ. It’s funny, when Suo comes across the men harassing you, he knows that you’re in trouble – but instead of taking the time to maybe scream for help or yell at them to go away, you’re instead in the middle of explaining differential equations to them.

You hated this. You weren’t even supposed to be walking home alone.

But, when duty calls (the duty being your friend having to beg their professor for a grading curve), well – you make do with what you’ve got. 

You could’ve stayed, and right now, you think that you should’ve stayed, but you were never a patient person – so, determined and tenacious, you start your short journey back home. 

You’re counting on making quick work of the stroll, maybe stopping by the corner store to pick up some snacks and a well-deserved coffee, before finally bunkering down to start the copious amount of research that you’ve been putting off.

What you aren’t counting on, though, is for a group of guys to start following you just a little after you leave campus.

You don’t count on them running after you once you speed your walk up to a run.

And, you don’t count on them to corner you in an alley when you ignore their pleas of “slow down” and “we just wanna talk”.

They drive you into a corner, and you shrink under their outraged eyes and towering frames.

You’re absolutely fucked, and you know it.

Your mind short circuits, and you freeze – one hand on the strap of your bag, and the other clamped around your phone.

You know what you should do. You should threaten to call the authorities, you should start crying for help, you should try to make a dash past all of them to freedom.

But, you’re you, so…

Like any sane person – you start talking.

Despite the tears that are threatening to fall from your eyes and the wobble in your knees, you start telling these harassers about how your classes went, the textbooks you purchased (at an outrageous price, might you add), the quiz that you failed, and the project that you have due in a couple of days.

And – you can’t help it. It’s not like they knew what they were signing up for when they chased you, but you’re sure that if they did, then the thought wouldn’t have even crossed their minds.

On all accounts, you didn’t think your rambling was even that bad, and honestly, you rarely ever did it.

(This is all pure speculation on your end, by the way.)

But you know how some people are just gifted? How some things just come naturally to them? 

…Yeah. That was you. Would some say that you simply don’t have a filter? Maybe. Would others say that you talk at the speed of light? Perhaps.

In your defense, at least you talked about things that were interesting. At least, you had thought so, but the puzzled looks on your assailants faces beg to differ.

It’s funny, when Suo comes across the men harassing you, he knows that you’re in trouble – but instead of taking the time to maybe scream for help or yell at them to go away, you’re instead in the middle of explaining differential equations to them. 

And what’s silly is that it works – you’ve got them standing there scratching their heads as they try to just keep up with you, and you …

Well, Suo drinks in the sight of you. 

It’d be hard not to – not with the way that you’re moving your hands in earnest with your words or the way your brows are scrunching up in agitation.

Wisps of your hair have escaped the haphazard bun you’d done earlier that day, and your face has a glowing, rosy flush to it.

And your lips – 

Well, Suo’s never had the urge to kiss a stranger, but… 

With the way that they part pretty with every word, and the occasional peek of the tip of your tongue as you lick them, Suo can’t say that he would say no if you so chose to reward him for his hard work with a press of your lips to his.

And, from what he can gather, you really hate differential equations.

It’s captivating, really.

Besides… Suo’s always been fairly weak to charming little things like you.

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

You’re not sure how or even when (as your body is still in fight or flight mode and your mouth is still going) but eventually, there’s only one person standing in front of you – and it’s a stranger.

A kind, attractive stranger who’s just saved you.

And now, he’s comforting you, voice soft and smile gentle as he tells you that everything's okay now.

But you… well, you’re inconsolable. 

Not because you’ve just experienced a traumatic incident, no.

It’s because, well, you’ve just yapped like your life depended on it, in front of a man who had not only saved you, but also witnessed said incessant talking.

Embarrassed doesn’t even begin to explain the way that you feel right now.

You do your best to thank him in a polite and brief manner before going on your merry way, but he can see the way you’re gripping your bag and walking with a slight sway to your step.

And it would be rude, right? To let you walk home all alone? After experiencing something like this?

At least, that's what Suo tells himself before he sends Sakura and Nirei a quick message that he’ll be running late to meet with them.

Always the gentleman, Suo catches up with you and offers to walk you home.

The request catches you off guard more than you’d like to admit, so much so that all you can do is shyly nod with wide eyes when he asks if you’d like him to hold your school bag as well.

There’s a slight brush of your fingertips as you hand the bag to him, and you feel it coming.

You know what’s about to happen, but there’s no way in hell that you can stop what’s already begun.

And you, always the rambler, start talking about everything and anything that you can think of just to fill the silence between you.

He had chalked down your reaction earlier to being in a heightened state of panic, but, as he escorts you home, he realizes that – no, this is just how you are.

And it’d be a lie if he didn’t find it endearing.

When you’re delivered safe and sound, you promise to get him a gift to show your gratitude but he waves it off, saying that you don’t have to go out of your way to do so.

(He doesn’t tell you that he’d much rather just be in your company to see what else will spill from your pretty lips.)

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

You, however, weren’t one to let something like that go — especially for the person who’d saved you. You don’t catch his name (which is shocking because how did you forget to ask him such an important question amongst everything else), but that doesn’t discourage you – If there’s one thing that you are, it’s stubborn.

And also talkative.

You begin asking around, from your friends to your neighbors to even store employees, trying to get as much information about him as you can. 

You learn his name, that he’s a part of Bofurin (figures), that he enjoys drinking tea, and that he has an affinity for Chinese-styled clothing. But beyond that, the trail goes cold. It seems that he’s someone who keeps his tastes close to heart, so you’ve got no other choice but to work with what little you’ve learned.

Almost immediately, you tick off any tea related gifts in your mind. You ran exclusively on iced coffee and pure adrenaline, so – yeah. You definitely did not have the necessary judge of character needed to distinguish tea blends.

But! You don’t let that little roadblock deter you. Stubbornness can work wonders.

You rack your brain for what feels like ages on what gift could suit a man as mysterious as him, but a girl can only muse for so long – and you weren’t happy with any of your ideas thus far.

You could get him clothes, but you don’t know his size. You could treat him to a meal, but your sources tell you that he’s rarely ever seen eating. You could get him jewelry cleaner for his earrings, but you’re not quite sure of the materials that are in them.

It isn’t until you’re stuck in the campus library during one fateful cram session that it hits you – literature.

It suited him! It was the best of both worlds, you thought. It was heartfelt, and also of substance for a man of his caliber. And – it made sense!

(This also could’ve been an act of procrastination on your part, but you feign ignorance.)

You spend about half of an hour speaking to the librarian about what Chinese books get borrowed the most, and the other half scouring over the internet for recommendations and book reviews.

What you land on, after extensive research that really should’ve been spent on school (but whatever), is a book called “The Book of Songs: The Ancient Chinese Classic of Poetry”.

According to the librarian, this book is loaned at least once to twice a month, which is surprising considering that it’s not a required text for any of your school’s courses. What you take away from this, though, is that it’s popular. 

And when you see the 4.6 out of 5 rating, well – 

The people don’t lie. At least, you assume so. The librarian had also said that this was a classic for anyone interested in Chinese literature, and who were you to deny the suggestions of a clear expert in the matter?

And, when you slip in a handwritten note of yet another “thanks” with your number and name in the cover of the book, well, who could blame you?

You just wanted to know his thoughts on the book – that’s all.

Really.

But the thing is that you haven’t got the slightest clue on how to give it to him.

He wasn’t at Furin High anymore, so that wasn’t a solution. And – you weren’t so desperate to ask around for his address, so you find yourself stuck between a rock and a hard place.

So what do you do?

Like any sane person – you keep it in your book bag.

Eventually, right? Eventually, you’ll see him again, and you can just drop it in his hands before scurrying away like the little shy bumblebee you are. And if he doesn’t message you back? Hey – no worries! You’ll just do everything in your power to erase the interaction from your mind until your inevitable passing of old age!

Good god, you were starting to ramble in your head now.

‘Eventually’ becomes a safety word for you of sorts. It means the inevitable future, that’ll come sooner or later.

You just didn’t know that it would be today.

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

When your friend asks you to meet at Café Pothos after class so that you can get coffee, you answer with an immediate and desperate yes. 

But – 

Whether it was due to the all nighter you had pulled the night before, or the overwhelming workload you had been saddled with over the course of the past couple days – you’re not sure, but you swear that your eyes are playing tricks on you.

Because, lo and behold, sitting at the counter with the afternoon glow illuminating his side profile perfectly, is Suo.

And you feel all the air escape your lungs.

Your friend calls your name from a table just a little further into the café, but you can’t move – not with his gift weighing so heavy in your bag.

It isn’t until one of Suo’s friends, one with black and white hair, is nudging Suo with his shoulder and tilting his chin in the direction of you.

“Ya got someone staring – do you know ‘em?”

When Suo turns to you, eye wide with surprise and his mouth just slightly parted, you can’t help but feel like a moron because – you’d forgotten just how handsome he really is.

And when he gets up from his chair to meet you in the café’s doorway, you try to bite back the words that are already forming at the tip of your tongue. 

“Oh, it’s you! It’s been a while since I last saw you – Sorry, I didn’t get your name last time. What was it?”

You take a deep breath in, willing the monstrosity that’s your mouth to calm down just the slightest. 

Just one question. He just asked one question. Even a grade school child could answer this without getting distracted. You could absolutely do this.

You, with all the willpower that you can muster, let your name flow out before immediately clamping down on your tongue.

But then, Suo tilts his head in a playful manner as he lets your name roll off his tongue, as if practicing it for future use, and at that point, even cement would serve powerless against the impulse of your mouth.

And you break.

“Ah! By the way – remember when I said I would get you a gift? You know, for saving me last time? That was so scary, haha, and I just wanted to thank you again for helping me out that day. I got you this poetry book, I hope you like it! I wasn’t sure what you’d like, and I didn’t know what else I could get you, but this has really good reviews! I even spoke to my school librarian about it! 4.6 out of 5, can you believe that? So, I hope it lives up to the praise, haha, but let me know if it doesn’t! If it doesn’t, well, I’m sure I can find something else for you… by the way, I –”

Okay, so you couldn’t do it.

You’re interrupted by the low whistling of one of Suo’s friends, and you blink rapidly before throwing your hand over your mouth.

But Suo, well – 

He’s looking down at you with a hint of fondness in his eye, but you wouldn’t know that, not with the way that your gaze is glued to the floor.

You did it again, and this time, with an audience. 

Briefly, you wonder if it’s too late for you to ask for the book back so that you can pathetically stuff your note into your pocket – and then burn it later.

But the book’s already in his hands, and the words have already left your mouth.

“... I think I talk too much,” you mumble as you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, suddenly very well aware that Suo’s barely said less than 30 words compared to your whopping 124.

This wasn’t what you had wanted, but you just couldn’t help it.

He laughs, though, and goes to gently pat your head.

“Maybe so…”

He pats twice, before trailing the tips of his fingers gently down the side of your face.

“... but I’m a good listener.”

He ends his words with a playful tap of his finger to the tip of your nose, but all you can do is gape in response.

God, he really was just way too nice.

(He was not, in fact, just being nice – but you’d find this out much, much later.)

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

To your surprise, Suo actually likes hanging out with you. Or at least, that’s what he says, but you’re not so sure. Not when you’re doing most of the talking, and he’s leaning his chin on his hand as he listens. 

Sometimes, and you hate when you do this, but you wonder if he’s just taking pity on you.

You don’t like to think about it too much, don’t like to feed the insecurity that dwells deep in your heart, but sometimes, you can’t help it.

And it’s not like you’ve never heard it before – the comments of “you’re so loud” or “do you ever breathe?” or, and this is your personal favorite, “you talk too much.”

Because yeah – you know, you’re aware.

It’s easy to laugh it off, and you do every time, but when you’re alone at night, with just you and your thoughts, you can’t help but create a daily habit – 

One where you replay everything that you’ve said that day, and you try to critique yourself.

Oh, I spoke too much during that – I’ve got to tone it down. 

Yikes, I got a little loud there – I need to speak softer.

Oops, I went on a tangent – I need to cut myself off.

And honestly? This habit becomes your bread and butter, despite how detrimental you know it is. Because the reality is, you’d much rather hear it from yourself than others.

But, being with Suo – 

Well, he doesn’t let you. 

Doesn’t let you tone it down, or speak softer, or cut yourself off.

Because he’s just as invested in what you’re saying as you are – and the feeling of that is …

“Tell me more – I’m listening.”

“I can’t hear you love, can you speak up?”

“Why’d you stop? It was just getting interesting.”

Well, it’s indescribable to you.

And, he does this soft little hum as he listens to you, and everytime, everytime it has you stumbling over your words just the slightest.

(You don’t catch the way that the corners of his lips perk up at the sound.)

And suddenly – you don’t have to bite back your tongue around him anymore. 

You can just be you, with no restrictions, no second guessing, no worries.

“I don’t get it,” you admitted once during one of your walks around your neighborhood (you’d needed a break from studying, and luckily, he just happened to be in the area for patrol), “I’m only like this when I’m around you.”

Suo laughs, and you feel your chest tighten just a bit at the sound, because his laugh was, well – 

The only word you can use to describe it is addictive.

And it always, always left you with butterflies in your stomach.

“That’s okay – I’d prefer it, actually.”

Your steps falter at his words, and he continues.

“I’d prefer if you’re only like this around me.”

That night, you’re left at your doorstep with rosy cheeks – and you’re 100% sure that it’s not due to the humid summer weather.

But you had to give it to him – he really was a good listener.

And, he had great memory.

Most of the time, you’d only really understand and process half the words that fly out of  your mouth, but Suo was able to process all of it.

If you absentmindedly mentioned that you’d really liked the coffee at this one café in Makochi, he’s asking if you’re free the coming weekend so that he can try their assortment of tea.

And when the cashier asks if you both are together, you innocently answer with a cheerful yes and fall into a tangent about how you’d loved their drinks so much that he’d wanted to try them too and now you’re both here to hang out and try more of their menu!

Suo doesn’t find it necessary to clarify what the cashier actually meant – not with the way that your answer sounds so right to him. 

Because yes, you were together, even if you yourself weren’t aware of it yet.

(A hangout in your eyes. A date in his.)

If you had an upcoming deadline, Suo was always diligently checking in with you. He’d send a text every couple of days, asking how it’s going and the efforts that you’ve made towards it – and you have to admit that while it was helpful, it was also extremely unnecessary.

Unnecessary only because you enjoyed procrastinating, but with a man like this, you simply couldn’t.

…

Okay, fine – so maybe you don’t have as many sleepless nights because you’re well ahead of your projected timeline. So maybe you spend less time cramming for tests because you’ve already reviewed the practice exam like three times. So maybe you’re able to lower your overall stress levels by actually adhering to the plans that you’ve set up for yourself.

So what?

It’s… it’s not like that was a problem before, right?

It absolutely was – but again, you’re stubborn, remember?

(Nagging in your eyes. Thoughtfulness in his.)

And, it’s during one of your “hangouts”, that Suo presses his luck.

He should’ve known, really, that it’d go through one ear and out the other, but he blames it on his unrivaled, optimistic spirit – and maybe just a smidge of wishful thinking.

Because introducing you as his special girl should’ve raised some flags in your mind, right?

It should’ve made you wonder – hm, why am I Suo’s special girl?

He swears he can see the gears turning in your head. 

But you’re you, so you take whatever it is that you thought it meant and you run with it.

And now, you’re introducing yourself to all of the past Bofurin members as his best friend, which – 

Not completely off base, but not at all what he was expecting from the situation.

And, when a couple of them send eyes of sympathy in his direction, all he can do is force a strained smile as he guides you, with his hand on your waist, to yet another group of people who will undoubtedly follow suit.

(Kindness in your eyes. Affection in his.)

At this point, you’re sure that he could read you like an open book – and he can.

He can read you so well, in fact, that he knows that you’re as dense as they come.

Because for months, Suo’s been playing the long game.

He’s been taking you out on dates, showering you with affection, and basically professing his devotion – all to show you what a great partner he could be for you.

But you – adorable, clueless, dense you. You just couldn’t quite get the hint, could you?

So, when Suo has to pull out the big guns to really get it through your thick skull (he thinks this in an affectionate way, he swears) – well, you only have yourself to blame.

Because how could someone so perfect be so damn oblivious?

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

“You’re aware that I have feelings for you, right?”

You’d been stargazing for the past 10 minutes, fingers just barely touching as you’re both splayed out on the blanket laid out below you.

It was supposed to be a fun little hangout as you celebrate the end of the quarter, but now, you’re starting to realize that maybe, just maybe – 

You blink, before sitting up.

He repeats his words, slower now, while rising up with you.

You blink again, slower now, as your brain processes what he’s just said.

It takes all of about 5 seconds before you open your mouth, ready to default back to your factory settings of rambling but –

Nothing comes out.

Suo had managed to stun you into silence for the first time in your life with less than 10 words.

And, judging by the pleased smile on his lips and the glint in his eye – he knows this.

This was a golden opportunity, after all. So, Suo takes advantage of it while he can.

Whether this is revenge for the past couple of months though, he’s not sure – but, he always was fairly petty.

“You’re so silly, you know that love?”

Your mouth, still open, can only close in response.

He presses on.

“You are, and this isn’t a compliment, the most oblivious person I’ve ever fallen for.”

Your breath hitches at his words.

“You never once left my mind after our first meeting – and when I saw you again at the café, well, I thought it was fate. It had to be – because how was I lucky enough to get to meet you again?”

You bite your tongue, this time not to hold back your words, but instead, to try and get your mouth to start working again.

“And it’s funny – because I managed to fall for someone who can capture the attention of strangers with just mere words, but somehow can’t see that I’ve been following them around like a lost, lovesick puppy since the day we crossed paths.”

You’re at a loss for why your mouth still won’t move.

“So if this still isn’t enough for you to finally see how deeply I feel for you, then I’m not sure what else I can do that’s still within the bounds of being a gentleman because –”

And finally, finally you’re able to cut him off – with a soft press of your lips to his cheek.

“... I‘m sorry Suo … but I think ... you talk too much.”

What can you say? You were never a patient person – and right now, with his feelings finally so clear to you, well… 

You were an idiot. To think, you could’ve done that so much earlier.

It takes him a second to process your words, cheek still reminiscing the brief contact of your lips on his skin, but – 

He gazes down at you, with a coy smile on his face and mirth in his eyes – and you can see it so clearly on his face, that feeling of triumph.

Because although he’d spent the past couple of months yearning for your affection, he wasn’t prepared for how rewarding it would be when you finally reciprocated.

“I suppose you’re rubbing off on me.”

Then, as an afterthought, he adds –

“I’m suddenly feeling very talkative. Will you, by any chance, be using that method to silence me right here?”

And when he taps on his lips with his finger, well – 

You weren’t dense enough to not understand what he was asking for.

And this time, when your lips meet his, he’s ready.

He snakes one arm around your waist to pull you onto his lap, with the other cupping the side of your face, and you melt.

It’s soft and drawn out and perfect, with both your lips parted just so – and there’s only one word that runs through both of your minds when you kiss.

Finally.

And, when your lips part, your bodies don’t. Instead, Suo presses his forehead against yours, and you feel your eyes flutter at the gesture.

God, you really were an idiot.

“By the way – that book you gave me, I realize now that I never got to let you know how much I liked it.”

You blink at his words, still in a daze from his lips on yours.

“How did you know that was my favorite book?”

You furrow your brows at his words, because you did not know that.

And Suo knows that you didn’t – but he continues.

Because, well, what can he say? You really were rubbing off on him.

“I loan it every month through one of my friends in Bofurin. Although, it’s nice to have my own copy now – especially since it’s from you.”

[camryn-haitani]

Sam golbach smut plsss I need him bro he's so fine

he’s so yummy i can’t😩

hey there, honey

Sam Golbach x Reader

you and sam met at a bar and hit it off but uh oh, no phone number. he surprisingly meets you again at the same bar but with some other guy?

TW: SMUT, “one night stand”, p in v sex, unprotected sex, fingering, praise, oral (both receiving), one night stand to lovers, alcohol mention, slight choking, misunderstanding, pet names (pretty girl, darling/darlin’, honey, princess), aftercare

lowercase intended

🚨i do not condone having sex while under the influence. everything is consensual in this fic🚨

“i need dick.” you slam your forehead on the bar counter but you never made contact because of a hand blocking your way. “well, you pretty straight forward, aren’t ya?”

you look up to see a blond man with mesmerizing blue eyes. “another round ooooof…..?” he made a questioned look at you. “tequila.” you answered. “ahh a woman of taste. i like that.” the man sat down next to you.

“so what’s a pretty lady like you doing in a bar all alone?” he questioned. you raised your eyes to him but your head never came up. “wouldn’t you like to know, pretty boy.” you nod your head as thanks to the bartender as they bring your shots. “that’ll be $8.” they said. you pull out your wallet but he beat you to it. “i’d never let a pretty lady pay for her drinks in front of me.”

“alright mr. big man,” you cross your arms as you sit up right and fully look at him, “why’d you come over here? you see a girl all alone and thought you could get some?” you suspect.

“no no not at all. wanna introduce myself. i’m sam golbach.” he sticks his hand out to shake. you pause for a second and give him a distrustful look. “come oooon, i saved you from bashing your head against the counter, didn’t i?” sam states. “alright. i’m y/n.” you meet his hand in the middle and give him a firm shake.

sam raises his shot glass in the air, waiting for you. “cheers to….” he pauses to think. “being single?” you finish. “to being single.” he says back as you both meet your glasses with a lil *clink*. you down your drinks and proceed to talk about anything and everything with sam.

as the night goes on, you find yourself pressed against supposedly sam’s car with your dress hiked up and his fingers between your dripping legs.

“shush darlin’ don’t wanna cause a scene, do we?” sam asked. you shake your head no. “good girl, that’s it. you’re making a mess all over my fingers, aren’t you?” you nod your head. as soon as his fingers were poking and prodding all the right spots, he pulls them out. you stutter a whine from your throat but sam covers your mouth. “what did i say about being quiet. now get your ass in my car and i’ll teach you how to be quiet.”

you get in his car and he drives off to a hotel that wasn’t far from the bar. he pays for whatever room is available and hurries inside. in the elevator ride up, he ever so lightly grabs the sides of your neck and pulls you in to kiss you. the lack of air cutting off to your head makes you dizzy and aroused for more. sam hears the ding of the elevator and pulls away.

he drags you to y’all’s room, opens the door, pushes you inside and begins to undress you as you do him. you barely get your bra off when he throws you on the bed. he kisses all down your thighs.

“please sam, don’t tease me like this. i’ve been so good for you.” your plead. “but pretty girl, can i not worship your body?” he asks. sam has his hand’s all over your tits. groping, squeezing, teasing your nipples. his eye contact with you is intense too which you don’t wanna look away. his lips latch onto the fat of your chest. he sucks like his life depends on it. he only sticks to your boobs because he knows it’s a work day tomorrow but he just also can’t get enough of your perky tits.

sam grabs your throat to pull you up to his level. you mainly get up in your own but the pressure is just so arousing. he lets out a sigh, “get on top of me, doll. i wanna see your tits bounce when you ride my cock.”

he lays himself down and waits for you to climb on top. you straddle him as sam pushes into you, but not too much as to hurt you. “say when you’re ready, mkay?” he asks. you nod your head as you adjust to his size.

your pain turns into pleasure when the stinging goes down. “i’m ready, sam. please i need it. i need you.” you plead. “such a naughty girl i have here. don’t worry,” he pushes the rest of himself deeper into you, “i’ll take goooood care of you, princess.” you moan aloud from his sudden action.

your hands fall on his chest as your ass bounces against his pelvis while his hands are gripping the life out of your waist. he helps you move up and down his leaking cock just the way he likes. you toss your head back when he pushes you all the way down with his tip hitting that oh so good spot.

the sound of skin slapping, the sweat, the smell of sex, everything was perfect to you. this is all you craved for. a man who is willing to make both of you get the most out of the pleasure of sex. this is who you need. just alone from this act, you knew sam was the man who would take care of you when you were sick, the man who would make your days happy when it all went to shit, the man who would always be there for you, day and night. you want sam. you need sam

you snap back into reality when his moans get more high pitched, his breathing more ragged, and his hands losing grip on your waist, so you had an idea. you stop your movement and position yourself to where your feet are flat against the bed and your legs more spread than they were before. you start you up and down, and the occasional grinding, and sam dies and goes to heaven. his tip reaching even deeper than he was before. he feels the most of what he’s ever felt.

“sa-m.. go-nna.. cu-um..” you manage to let out. he understands what he has to do.

he can’t control himself. he’s gonna cum, quick. his grip tightens and slams your hips on his pelvis while he paints your walls.

you fall into his chest and immediately pass out. sam gathers what strength he has left, picks himself up and gets a warm washcloth. he runs it over wherever has cum or sweat on you and makes sure you’re all clean. he wipes himself up and lays down next to you, falling asleep with his arm around your waist.

…

your eyes burn from the sun as you open them fully. sam still asleep on your other side. you find your phone and check the time.

“shit shit shit…” you rush out of bed, put you clothes on, order an uber and go back to your apartment.

you unlock your door and call your boss. “i’m sososososo sorry, boss. i overslept and running late. take it off my paycheck, or something. just please don’t fire me.” you say pulling your shoe on your foot. your boss laughs lightly, “don’t worry, you’re fine. just come down and we’ll get it sorted out.” “thank you so much” you say. you hop in your car and go to work.

sam on the other hand, rolled over in bed and notices you aren’t there. he swipes his hand over where you slept multiple times but, no you. he sits up and rubs his eyes, still confused on where you went. sam picks up his phone to text you then he remembers, he never got your number. his chest fills with dread, he’ll never see you again. he picks up his clothes and anything else he brought and checks out of y’all’s room.

not wanting to waste anymore money, sam walks home. it’s surprisingly not far from the hotel but it’s still a long walk. meanwhile you are driving to work, rushing against the time to not be any more late. finally, you get to your desk and sigh of relief and as soon as you sit down, you immediately wanna go home.

sam returns home and goes straight to colby’s room. “hey dude, can i ask you a question?” sam asks. “sure, what’s up?” colby’s sits up right to listen to his question. “do you ever long to see someone you only met once?” sam walks over to colby. “hmm… no not really. why?” colby answers. ‘i’ll tell him later’ he says to himself. “don’t worry about it colbs, but thanks anyway.” sam walks out.

*couple hours later*

you find yourself in the slimmest, sluttiest, sexiest dress you could ever own, in hopes sam is there to see you like this. since last night, he’s never left your head and your panties unsoaked. you get in your car and make your way to the bar.

sam walks again for some reason. he felt as if he needed to be walking to the bar. he didn’t know why but he followed it. his mind in the clouds when a woman pushes herself against him. sam puts his arms in the air to not touch her but she keeps persisting that she be all up on him.

you stop at a red light, pull your visor down to fix your mascara, and when you flip it back up, you see your blond man… with a woman pushing her tits in his face. your mind immediately goes to the depths and figure that he’s taking her to the bar with him. your eyes dull and drive off when the lights flashed green.

sam finally pushes her off him and adjusted his shirt. he briefly brushed off his encounter with her and continues to walk to the bar.

he pushes the door open and immediately tries to find you. he doesn’t know why, but he needs to see you again. even if it was just a one night stand, he longs to see your beautiful face again. but to his avail, he finds you flirting with another man. a man that’s not him, a man who looks at you with nothing but lust and not one ounce of love. looking at you as if you were just a human fleshlight. sam takes his leave to the bar counter and orders him a drink. he hears your giggle from behind him, the same one you gave him when he told you his corny joke. he looks to his side to see you attached to his arm, laughing at the guys obviously unfunny joke.

“oh, i didn’t see you. where’s your girl? the one who was all over you?” you asked. “i didn’t bring any girl, she was just someone who wanted a man’s attention. i pushed her off and came here, hoping to find you…” he painfully said. you like at him with sadness. “come on, sugar. i’ll show you what a real man can do to you.” the guy said to you. you cringe at his words and reluctantly follow. sam stays seated to sip on his drink.

you and the other guy were dancing. him pressing his hard on against you but it just made you feel uncomfortable. you want sam, you need sam. you saying those words to him, broke your heart like glass shattering on linoleum. you mind wanders as your body sways less and less. “what’s up, doll face? you’re not grinding onto me no more.” the man says with no intention of being worried about you. “nothing. you know what,” you pause while shoving your drink in his chest, “ima get a hotel. pay for our drinks like a man should, if i could even call you one, and don’t follow me.” you walk off. “whatever, bitch.” he mumbles under his breath while going to find another girl to flirt with.

sam however, never meant to listen to your conversation, but he heard ‘you’ and ‘hotel’, so he’s gonna try and find you any way he can. he looks up any close hotels from the bar and hurries to the closest ones. he needs you, not sexually, but emotionally. just in that one night you two spent together, he felt such a deep connection with you. sam needs you.

you check into your room, throw off your shoes, unstrap your bra, and toss yourself on the bed. buzzed from the drinks and shots, you lazily scroll through your phone.

sam runs to every check in desk to ask if you’re there. he runs and runs and runs. he needs to find you, he needs your touch, sam needs you. he’s so desperate to find you, tears prick his eyes. he stops in front of the last hotel within a 10 mile radius of that bar. this was his last chance.

a knock at the door interrupts your doomscrolling. you groan and pick yourself up, not caring if you’re not wearing a bra. you unlock the padlock on the top of the door and open it to see him.

“hey there, honey.”

- - - - - -

i’m sorry if this wasn’t all smut, my mind had one thing and ran with it. i apologize if this wasn’t what you asked for

[show-your-fangs]

omg omg omg can I pls request hotch genuinely being the most clueless, dumb-and-in-love individual?

Basically the team has to point it out to him for him to see how soft he is for reader and how differently he treats them 💗😩 he’s in love, your honour 🤭

i love our stupid man in love, he's so cute i can't.

this is part two of this blurb from my moments au

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Words: 1.7k

CW: nothing, just fluff.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

He didn’t ask you out that night. Neither Morgan or Rossi won the bet, the unfortunate draw making them only want to try harder to win over the other.

That had been a week ago, the pool only growing as more agents got in on it and it had somehow gotten out of hand really quickly. Penelope had been tasked with keeping track of the bets, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her mouth shut about it, especially when she was around you. 

The team had left for a case earlier in the week which meant you were spending a lot of time with her. From helping with research, running point from the office, making calls and setting up permits, warrants, everything and anything they needed, you were practically tied at the hip as per usual when the team was away. The only problem? Penelope Garcia could not keep a secret to save her life, and the more time she spent with you, the more she almost slipped and told you what was going on.

You had closed the case earlier that night after five days of grueling work. You were exhausted, more so emotionally than physically, so you’d invited Penelope to dinner as way to celebrate the little victory. But what had started as a simple night out had quickly turned wild as the waiter had taken a liking to her and kept the cocktails coming throughout your entire meal. You were on dessert, a forgettable chocolate lava cake with ice cream when she finally slipped.

“I just think it’s so silly,” she giggled in between sips of her drink and scoops of dessert. 

“What’s silly?” you egged her on, whatever this secret was had eluded you for the entire week and you just needed to know. 

“How much Hotch likes you,” her cheeks flushed pink but her brain didn’t realize what’d she’d admitted to yet, allowing her to continue. “The team has a bet going on when he’s going to ask you out and everything.” 

“Huh,” you mused. “That is silly.”

That’s when her brain snapped, dread and realization washing over her all at once. Her eyes widened, her spoon fell from her hand and onto the plate. 

“Oh my gosh, do you not like Hotch back? I could’ve sworn— I am mortified! Forget I told you, please I am begging you—”

You reached over and placed your hand over hers, gently soothing her out of her panic as a mischievous smile curled on your lips. 

“Can you get me on the board, Pen?”

Apparently they were all convinced it wasn’t happening for a while. They had decided to overcorrect their previous assumptions, placing bets that were days if not weeks in the future. Penelope had added you to the bet list that same night, promising to keep the secret until the next morning. 

You knew the clock was ticking, knew that once you started the countdown, you had no business losing your courage. It was now or never, and the reminder that soon the rest of the team would be shuffling into the bullpen to start their day, that they’d know someone else had made a risky bet — it only got your adrenaline pumping even more. 

You poured his coffee as you watched him enter the office, gaze on his phone, powerful and confident strides leading him towards his office. He turned and waved from the top of the stairs once he finally noticed you, a small smile on his lips. You smiled back, your cheeks reddening slightly as you finished getting your own coffee in order, the pale tan a contrast to his straight black. 

You made your way to his office a minute after he’d settled, placing his cup on his desk and taking a seat across from him. This had been your routine for months now, you’d bring him his coffee in the morning and the two of you would fill each other in on your lives. 

Aaron had been dealing with his divorce, the guilt of having to split Jack’s time between him and his mom, the added stress of finding a new place and moving, of finding himself alone when he’d been used to always having someone to come home to after a tough case. And you? You had just started going to therapy after he’d encouraged you to. It had been a rocky adjustment to the job, and you were glad that you could confide in him as your boss but also as your friend. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, pulling out the case files he’d taken back home the night before. 

You shot him a look, the look, and he couldn’t help but sigh deeply. You weren’t angry, you were simply disappointed, and he knew that. It had been hard, harder now that he had to force himself back out there if he wanted to actually have a life. But even after months of this new normal, the idea of dating made him even more exhausted than he’d like to admit. 

Because while Morgan or Emily thrived meeting new people, Aaron had met Haley in high school. He’d been with one woman his entire life, one woman for more than twenty years. He was rusty to say the least, the insecurity of it only growing the more he refused to take the leap, the more he refused to feel his feelings, the more he fell in love with you. 

“Haley had Jack last night—” he started but you were quick to interrupt him. 

“That’s a terrible excuse,” you chided. “There’s a million things you could’ve done instead.”

“Oh yeah?” the mischief was back in his eyes, making you gulp visibly. “What did you do last night?”

Your mouth opened in mock annoyance, he couldn’t possibly know—

“For your information, sir,” you mocked. “I went out with Penelope last night.” 

Whatever glimmer of hope Aaron had cultivated to tease you about taking work back home was extinguished in a second. He sat back in his chair, inaudibly admitting defeat. 

“Maybe that’s what you need too,” you started, your heart racing once more. His eyebrows shot up and you could tell his blood had also gotten to his head. “Ask someone out, go on a date, get laid.”

That caught him off guard completely. If he had been sipping on his coffee he would’ve choked, made an even bigger fool of himself. But instead his cheeks just reddened, his ears quickly following suit, a detail he knew you knew about him as you’d pointed it out many times in the past.

But you didn’t today, you didn’t say anything about his reaction but he was too hot to notice it right away.

“It’s what I have to do too, honestly,” you shrugged, faux confidence somehow allowing you to not combust right then and there. 

“Do you now?” he managed through gritted teeth, the idea of you dating something that he made sure never to think about because it always led him down a dark path of rage and an ungodly desire to ravage you to the point where you belonged to him and no one else. 

“Yeah,” you drawled on, almost sighing dramatically. That’s when he caught on, when his brain finally reconnected to his body and his heart only sped up even more. “But I don’t know…I’m not really into any of the guys Penelope or Emily have tried to set me up with, they’re not really my type.”

God, this was not actually happening. “What is your type?”

“Crime fighting single dads who adore their kids and participate in triathlons for fun,” there was no misinterpreting it now. 

“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” the words flew out of his mouth before either of you could register them. 

A bright smile took over your lips, your eyes sparkling with happiness. A shy smile slowly started to turn adorably embarrassed on his, his gaze tentatively raising to meet yours, eyebrows raised almost pleading, his eyes round and hopeful. 

“I would love to,” you said and he graced you with the most beautiful full smile you’d ever seen from him. It was unrestricted, genuine, life giving. 

“Great,” he cleared his throat as the clock struck eight, the reality of the world outside of your little office bubble a reminder of where you were. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Can’t wait,” you reassured him, standing up with your own untouched coffee mug and making your way downstairs. “Oh, and it’s my treat. Trust me.”

You were gone before he could argue, but you knew that he couldn’t stop smiling, the warmth radiating from him was enough for you know it deep in your bones.

“Babygirl,” Morgan asked aloud, holding up the list of bets that Penelope had left on his desk earlier as the blonde returned to the bullpen from her office. “What’s this?”

He tapped on the bet you’d written down, the other agents gathering to inspect the new addition.  

“Proof of my victory, Derek,” you said cockily as Penelope handed you the envelope full of cash. 

The entire team turned to you, eyes wide and anger slowly boiling. But none of them let it out, instead they all looked impressed, they respected the move, the hustle, the boldness. Morgan scoffed in proud defeat as he held out his fist for you to bump, and you did, excitedly.  

It had finally happened, the start of something that had been brewing for months, and you couldn’t be happier. While the girls walked up to you to get all the details you shot Aaron a cheeky glance as Penelope filled Emily and JJ in on your conversation the night before, and for the first time ever, Aaron allowed himself to meet your glance, unashamed to be caught staring at you. 

i've been smiling like an idiot all day

taglist: @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh, @cr1minalskies, @xladyxdreamer, @mrs-ssa-hotch

[dilfl0v3rss]

I give you..

Bsf!Ony who claims he’s, “only friends” with you but will fuck ts outta you the second you start acting out

WAITTTTTT YOU ATE THIS UPPPPP😩😛😩

ony is the possessive type so it’s very likely that this would have to do with another boy. he was at your apartment, eating all your snacks as he watched tv on the couch. you walked out of your room dressed up for your date. “how i look?” ony looked up from the tv, eyeing you up and down before giving you a small nod. “look nice.” he grumbled. he did not approve of this at all. rolling your eyes, you walking in front of him, restricting his view of the tv.

“why you hatin’? you should be happy i’m finally getting a boyfriend.” his jaw clenched at your words. boyfriend? tf you need a boyfriend for when you got your best friend? it’s not like a boyfriend could do any more for you than he’s already doing anyway. buying you stuff, driving you to work, comforting you whenever you needed, and fucking the shit outta you when you wanted. ony was the whole package for you so the fact that you were trying to get a man was a slap in the face to him.

little did he know, you were only doing this to get a rise out of him. you’ve wanted to be with this man since y’all were in high school, but neither of you were bold enough to ask the other out, so you labeled your little situation as being best friends to keep the other from feeling uncomfortable. “these niggas not good for you suge. they can’t protect you like i can.” you rolled your eyes at the stupid nickname.

since your parents liked to call you sugar when you were little, ony decided to use the name as well, sometimes shortening it as suge. “boy the only reason you saying that is because you scared the last three off with those stupid guns.” a smirk planted itself on ony’s face, grills peaking from behind his lips as he stared up at you with low eyes. “if they running from this then who knows what else they gon run from. feel me?” he lifted up his shirt to show you his glock 19 tucked in his waistband.

you couldn’t help but get a little wet at the action, eyes glued to his inked torso and chest as he kept rambling about how pussy the guys you fuck with are. “you see sum you like mama? see you drooling a little over there.” long fingers gripped the bottom of you face, pulling you towards him for a kiss. you quickly pulled away before walking back to your room. “no. i don’t ‘feel you’ and i wont be feeling you for awhile. gon start saving this pussy for my new man.”

his head snapped towards you before getting up and following you inside your bedroom. “the fuck you mean ‘saving’ my pussy? you not giving it away. must be crazy.” ony laid on your bed, tank top riding up his toned stomach as he leaned on his elbows. is this nigga crazy? tf he mean “his pussy”? last time you checked yall wasn’t dating so this pussy belongs to nobody but you. “wanna bet?” you didn’t notice you were voicing your thoughts out loud, but you still didn’t back down. “boy please. you know better.”

“f-fuckkk ohhmygoddd.” you were face down in the sheets, strong hand in your hair as the other was at your lower back. ony was beating your shit in, thumb curved into your puckering hole as he fed you quick deep strokes in your pussy. the date you were supposed to be on long forgotten as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. “who pussy dis is mama?” squelching noises could be heard from all the way in the living room as he continued pounding away at your pussy.

“mmits ursss onyyy.” his heavy hand moved from your hair to leave a hard slap on your ass. the skin instantly heating up from the contact. “say my name right baby. who’s is it?” his pace grew as well as his anger. body roughly jolting, wrinkling up your sheets to the point where they were snapping off your mattress. “it’s y-yours daddy. it’s a-alllll yours fuckkkk.” you moaned. ony couldn’t help but smile, taking his thumb out your backside so he can kiss up your back.

you were his and his alone, and until you understood that he was going to fuck you as hard as he could to keep you from even thinking of going anywhere with another man. his mouth stopped right next to your ear, breathing steadily as if your tight pussy didn’t phase him at all. “that’s right mama. this daddy’s pussy.”

[damiansgoodgirll]

please do damian cheating on reader!😩❤️

y’all want to cry i see 🤓🤓

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed!

‼️ mention of sex, pregnancy, anxiety, infidelity and cheating, angst, body shaming, body issues, reader being self conscious

don’t hurt yourself

“i’m trying to save our family y/n!” damian screamed desperate, staring at the marriage counselor in front of him. she was watching with a deep look the scene in front of her. it wasn’t anything new to her but the way you both were behaving was making it hard for her to help.

“sure…you should have thought about that before fucking someone else damian…” you said, tears already dry.

one month ago

damian just came back from his wrestlemania trip. you would have loved to go but six months ago, you gave birth to your first baby and it was all new for you. you were still trying to get adjusted by how your body looked, how tired you constantly were and how scary the world suddenly became since you had your baby.

damian wanted you to go but he knew you didn’t trust anyone to babysit your daughter for so many days, so he didn’t force you.

the pregnancy changed your relationship a little bit, and, even if damian didn’t want to show it, it was affecting him a little.

it was your first pregnancy so he understood but still, he couldn’t get away from the feeling that something changed.

you became more paranoid, always scolding him for silly things, your mood was on a rollercoaster and the lack of sex between the two of you kept him on edge. your doctor told you that it was completely fine having sex during pregnancy but your anxiety made it impossible for you to have sexual contact with him. you tried and tried but you always had to stop him because it was hurting you.

damian always respected that but he couldn’t lie if he said that it wasn’t effecting him too. the whole nine months of your pregnancy, he felt like he was pregnant too.

he thought it would get better once your daughter was born but he was wrong.

you became more self conscious about your body, the way you looked and the struggle to keep a nice appearance up was hurting you. he didn’t know how to keep up with all of that.

he let himself go the night after he won at wrestlemania. he was partying and he was drunk and he didn’t want that, but, somehow he found himself naked, sleeping next to a complete stranger.

when he woke up his head was hurting but his heart almost stopped when he saw her, the stranger, sleeping naked next to him.

“no no no…” he whispered. he felt his heart breaking.

“good morning…” she whispered waking up. damian watched horrified the way she kissed his chest, only stopping at his lips when she saw the paralysed face he had “did you have fun last night?” she asked “or are you already regretting it?”

“what…how? i-i don’t remember…”

“you’re hurting me saying that you don’t remember our night together” she said, faking being hurt “you don’t remember what happened?”

“no…this, this shouldn’t have happened”

“but it happened damian…and it was too good” she said, smile on her face, remembering how good everything felt “you came up to me at the bar last night, you said how good i looked, how much you wanted to fuck me…then you went talking about how unhappy your marriage was becoming, how unhappy your little wife is, how ugly she think she is, witch, frankly, she’s quite right…you should give her some exercises to do to lose that baby weight she still carries by the way…” the stranger started blurting out “then you got quite boring so i had to shut you up with a kiss. that kiss definitely became something more, judging by the way we are both naked under the covers…” she smirked but all damian wanted to do was to vomit and hide away.

he couldn’t believe he just cheated on you.

he couldn’t believe he rambled to a complete stranger about your marriage, about you. your wedding wasn’t unhappy, sure things changed after your daughter was born and you both needed to work better on this whole family thing but he wasn’t unhappy with you.

he loved you and your daughter isabel more than anything.

“i need to go…” he said not remembering her name.

“sheila, my name’s sheila…” she smiled at him.

he quickly dressed up, took his bags and went straight at the airport, all he wanted to do was to stay with you and isabel, and hold you all night long.

rhea knew something was up the moment she saw damian’s face at the airport.

“man, you okay?” she asked him.

“i fucked up rhea…i fucked up” he said.

“what you mean?”

“i-i i can’t even say it…” he whispered “i slept with someone”

“what the fuck are you saying damian?” rhea almost screamed.

she was your best friend. the person who always stayed by your side during the whole pregnancy. maybe she wasn’t a mother but she understood what you were feeling, probably more than damian did. she understood your fears and never judged you. she stayed with you before you gave birth and right after it. she comforted you when damian didn’t, she held you while you cried your problems to her, too afraid of being rejected by the man you loved. she reassured you when you told her you felt ugly, when you told her that you wanted to change your appearance because you didn’t recognise yourself anymore.

she was there for you and you were always there for her, so, damian telling her that he just cheated on you, was a low blow.

“i’m so fucking sorry rhea…i don’t know how it happened” he said, regret evidently showing in his eyes.

“she needs to know” was all rhea said.

“don’t give the treatment silent rhea…please, i can’t handle it right now”

“what do you want to say? congratulations on cheating on my best friend? congratulations on cheating on your wife and mother of your daughter? that’s what you want me to say? i can’t even imagine what she’s going to feel when you tell her, she needs to know damian” rhea said before boarding flight.

the whole flight home damian thought about how to tell you that he cheated.

how can you tell the person you love the most that you just cheated?

his heart broke the moment he stepped inside your home.

you coming to greet him with isabel in your arms “isabel look, daddy’s home” you softly said smiling at him.

“where’s my big girl?” damian said pretending everything’s fine. he noticed how isabel wanted to be held by him so he gently took her from y/n’s arms and started rocking her.

“she missed you a lot” you said watching the sweet scene in front of you.

“and you didn’t?” he smirked.

“a lot” you smiled back “i’m so proud of you baby” you congratulated him and he smiled at you.

he took time after he came back home. he put isabel to sleep, he unpacked his bags, he took a long shower and he made love to you, hoping that in his mind, he could cancel his irreparable mistake.

a week passed and you couldn’t help but notice something was wrong. damian’s behaviour changed, he was more present and constant with his role - not that you minded but it wasn’t like him.

“what’s going on?” you asked one night after you put your daughter to sleep.

“what you mean?”

“i mean, what’s wrong? you’ve changed…after wrestlemania…something happened but i can’t figure out what” you said staring at him.

“i cheated…” he whispered.

you froze.

“you what?”

“i…i cheated i’m so fucking sorry y/n…i didn’t know how it happened, i didn’t want it to happen” he apologised, a few tears running down his cheeks.

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. he just cheated on you. the man you loved, the man you married, the man you just started a family with just cheated on you.

“please say something…” he begged you.

tears falling down your face, your heart breaking in millions of pieces “what do you want me to say damian?” you sarcastically laughed “i just - i need some fresh air right now, i can’t even stand to be in the same room as you damian…isabel is sleeping in her room…”

“where are you going?” he asked you when he saw grabbing your car kids.

“away, i need to stay away from you right now” you said, more tears falling from your eyes.

“please…please don’t go…i’ll do anything, anything to gain your trust again…i’m so fucking sorry y/n” his eyes full of tears but you couldn’t be in the same room as him right now.

“i don’t care how sorry you are damian, i don’t give a shit. you want me to stay? fine. then you can go away, i don’t need you in this home, not right now damian…you just thrown away four years of marriage…we have a daughter, a daughter together…she’s only six months damian, how could you?” you cried all of your tears, not caring if you were screaming right now.

“i-i’m so sorry…”

“i don’t care! stop saying you’re sorry! i don’t give a shit! why? why did you do it?” you asked him.

“i-i don’t know…i was drunk okay? it was right after i won the title, i…was celebrating and - shit - i got drunk and you weren’t there”

“so now it’s my fault?”

“no…no, it’s not your fault y/n, that’s not what i said…” he tried to explain himself but only making it worse “it’s me, i’m the one who fucked up and you have no idea how sorry i am…i fucking love you and isabel more than anything, i love you so much y/n, i just made a huge mistake and”

“fucking someone else is not a mistake, it’s a choice…it’s a choice you made!” you kept screaming.

damian swore he never saw you so mad. you were usually the calm one in the relationship so seeing you so mad and angry was unusual for him.

“i know…i know and i’m…”

“don’t fucking say you’re sorry, don’t you dare damian…” you warned him “i can’t stay here with you right now, i can’t even look at you without feeling disgusted” you words broke his heart even more “you either go away or i take isabel and we’re going away…”

“don’t do this please…”

“you’re not giving me any choice damian…you made your choice that night, now you’re facing the consequences…it’s you or me and isabel, we can’t stay here all together like the happy family you want me to pretend to be…” you slowly dried your tears away.

“o-okay…i’ll go…but please, please, we can work this out together…please, i’m begging you y/n…i can’t lose you…” he said before leaving the house.

while he cried driving towards the hotel he just booked, you cried yourself to sleep, holding his pillow, and letting yourself fall asleep.

[theplumsoldier]

feels like home

summary: you🥺love🥺each other🥺🥺😩

warnings: vulgar language, smut, breeding kink, angst, fluff (please let me know if im missing anything!!)

a/n: i love him omg hes so dad shaped

Starting out, it was a brewing crush, a sparkle between you and Joel on the job. Getting to know one another, it quickly became playful. Quirky remarks, cocky comments; that kind of thing. You began noticing your heart rate increase rapidly whenever he would speak, his voice suddenly sounding sweet and soothing, the playful shoves became lingering touches.

It was innocent, a subconscious pleasure that made the days do by. It was nice. Until it wasn't. When you realized the feelings they were way too strong for you to comprehend.

The fluttering butterflies no longer tickled, they scraped against your stomach, trying to claw their way out. Your heart rate felt alarmingly fast when in his company, which you quickly found was not good when working. It made you flinch, mistaking the faint clicks of an infected with that of your own pulse.

It resulted in a close call and a fitting rebuke from Joel, calling you out on your actions, or lack thereof.

Joel's harsh words got to you, never having heard him raise his tone at you unless it was call your name. His anger was evident but it was the disappointment seeping through his venom-laced tone that hit you like a brick wall.

Little did you know he did not react like that because of your rookie moves, nor was it because of the fact that you were putting everybody else's lives on the line while being so careless on the job.

No, it was a whole other thing, a feeling that wasn't too far from the one you were haunted by.

Nonetheless, Joel reprimanding you made you be more careful around him, the pining turning into something of a self-conscious degree.

Joel noticed your shy demeanor after that incident. He figured you would understand overtime, understand his harsh words came from a place of worry, of love. But as time passed, and you only talked to him when on the job, when necessary, there came a point where he found himself eager to confront you. He was having none of it.

It wasn't that he was going to tell you that he reacted the way he did because he was in love with you. He was simply going to check in on you, imply that there was something off with you. He substantiated his own idea by concluding it was best for the group to know whether this mien was going to keep up. That way he wouldn't have to reveal his feelings. Joel knew it was not going to be a pleasant conversation, but he just wanted your giddy self back.

He missed the funny comments, the playful touches. He missed making you smile, seeing you laugh. It was what got him through the day and lately he had found himself constantly thinking about you, dragging the days out to a point where he felt one exceeded the usual count of 24 hours.

It was an excruciating pain, feeling you were reluctant whenever he would enter the room, falling silently and making yourself small.

He looked for the right time, postponing the inevitable, to the point where another incident occurred, sending Joel over the edge.

"What the fuck, Y/N!?" barked he, following you into your room, slamming the door behind him.

"What, Joel!? What is it now?" yelled you in frustration, too beat to take anymore of his bullshit, his glares, any of it.

You justed wanted to clean up and go to sleep. It was all too much.

This time had not been much different from the last. Your train of thought had distracted you, leading to Joel saving you. Again.

It was honestly getting embarrassing at this point.

Joel's tongue wet his lips while he opgivende slumped down, taking a seat. He breathed out, calming himself and stretched his arm over the back of the couch.

"You need to get your head out of your ass before you--" said he as his eyes pierced through the back of your head, watching as you had turned your back to him, doing whatever.

"And you need to get off my back," retaliated you, swinging around and pointedly staring at him.

The way he kept his cool just sitting there on the couch while you were getting fed up struck a nerve.

His tone differed from his exterior, however, a judgemental feel to it.

"What's going on with you, huh? These past few weeks you've been reckless out there! Shit, I've already saved your ass twice this week--"

"Fuck you, Joel!" you interrupted, trying your best not to make it sound like a preschool shouting match. Well, you were the only one yelling, so perhaps that was the wrong parallel to draw. Regardless, you gave him a piece of your mind. "You know, I signed the same fucking waiver as you did! If anything happens to me, you take me out. That's the job. I never asked for you to save me so why you take that upon yourself--that's beyond me!"

Joel shook his head, biting back the grin he knew would bite him in the ass if you heard it. It was ridiculous to him, that you thought he would ever let anything happen to you.

Take you out.

He stood up, taking a step closer to you, his brows furrowed in disbelief. "Of course I'm gonna fuckin' jump in when I see ya danger! Jesus Christ, you don't even realize it's 'cause I love you, do ya?"

Oh.

That took you by surprise.

"Tell me you don't feel the same way," said he, watching as your eyes dropped, certainly thinking about what he had just said. Carefully inspecting every clue your features gave away, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you. He tipped your head, forcing your eyes to meet his. "Y/N?"

He felt himself getting nervous like a school boy revealing his crush, fearing he had fooled himself. He couldn't help but worry you hadn't put much thought into the flirting, that perhaps you were simply playing around.

He tried stepping away, to let himself think, but you quickly latched onto his arm, pulling him even closer than he was before.

"No, I..." hesitated you, trying to figure out the best way to put it. "I realized I do really like you. It's why I've been so... off, I guess. You've constantly been on my mind, and--I've been trying to figure out... what to do about it, I guess."

Your eyes were fixated on his chest, right where his shirt was unbuttoned. Your cheeks red, you felt too self-conscious to look him in the eye, fearing what you might find. It seemed no matter how many times you had fallen in love, it never got easier.

But to your surprise, you felt safe when Joel tilted your head and your eyes met. Reassured.

Shit.

The eyes really were the window to the soul, huh?

"And did you figure it out? What you wanna do about it?"

There was a certain glimpse in his eye as he asked. He had decided what he wanted to do.

Instead of replying, you pulled him into you, pressing your thirsty lips against his. It seemed the prior anger had fueled your hunger, suddenly very desperate to have him even closer.

Luckily, Joel did not mind one bit and immediately wrapped his arms around and cradled the back of your head, holding you like you might slip.

And shit the sweet, sweet taste of him made you think you just might.

His scent wrapped around you like a blanket, making you feel safe again, the feeling somehow always emitting from him, only this time tenfold. It reminded you of the sense one got when stepping into the comfort of their home after a long time away. He felt like home.

God, it felt good to be home.

While one hand rested on the back of your neck, the other began sliding down your side, feeling your curves beneath his rough fingertips.

When he steadied and squeezed your waist softly, you tugged lightly on the strands of his hair.

"Joel," whispered you breathlessly, pulling back but not enough to not still feel his breath on yours. You didn't dare let him move further away, fearing you might lose his warm touch and wake from this fever dream.

Joel hungrily bit for your lip, but you had to catch your breath. His lips were parted, tongue dancing just behind his teeth in anticipation as he muttered your name.

"Want you inside of me."

His eyes locked on yours for a second, like a predator picking out his prey, and a second later, he was all over you.

Crashing his lips against yours, he was suddenly both pulling and shoving you, a clumsy waltz in the ecstasy ballroom, determined to take you to bed and claim you as his.

Stumbling onto your bed, you were pinned to the mattress and the sheets delved around you, hugging your sides with Joel's body the perfect cover.

You wrapped your legs around him, urging him to rub his restrained cock against your clothed crotch, moaning at the feeling. Like a goddamn rock.

While making out, he continued the motion and when he finally let go of your wrists, you did not hesitate to slide your hands under his shirt, feeling his warm skin.

"Been thinking 'bout this. Can't ever stop myself from imagining how pretty you'd look, squirmin' on my fingers. Those sweet, sweet eyes begging me to tear into you, make you come around my cock."

You whined at his words.

You hadn't realized you hadn't given his pillow talk much thought. Prior expectations had only let you down, becoming disappointed in men when they didn't live of to the version of the person you had made them out to be in your head. You knew your kinks, and wanted them played out in reality and only then you realized what a match Joel evidently was.

Clawing at his shirt, he helped you pull it over his head as you began undoing his belt.

He stopped you, chuckling at your eagerness although he could barely hold himself together.

Instead he pulled up your shirt, kissing down your stomach and unbuttoned your pants.

"Easy, baby," muttered he. "Gonna make you feel real good."

Upon having removed your clothes, Joel continued his path down your stomach, kissing right under your bellybutton, building up a whole lot of tension inside your core as he continued down.

You felt his hot breath against your pussy, finally looking down and only then did he dive in and you gasped at his greedy tongue. He was hungry and he was not holding back.

His tongue licked a long wet stripe through your glistening folds, his nose and stubble tickling your clit. His hands held you down when you arched into his mouth and you cried his name, needy for his touch.

A chuckle vibrated from his mouth and he teased your entrance with a finger, taking you off guard when he suddenly shoved two in.

"Fff-uck!" You moaned and squirmed, completely spellbound as you felt your self tense up at the slow but consistent pace he had sat.

Considering you had indeed imagined having sex with Joel, you were surprised to find him so eager to take care of you. His now all around careful touch so contradicting to what characterized him on the job. Of course, he had never been rough with you and although you were getting more and more excited to have him fill you, you felt ecstatic experiencing him like this, treating you like delicate Chinese porcelain. You felt loved. An unusual feeling, but a welcome one.

While his fingers worked you up, he spared a look your way, finding you crushing your head into the mattress, eyes squeezed shut. The content look on his face was replaced with a focused one as he sucked your pulsating clit.

The pleads you emitted were far from coherent, only the choked cry giving you away.

"Shit, doll, don't think I'm gonna fit in this lil' pussy. Just two fingers making you all dumb for me," he chuckled, basking in the pleasure he gave you, each moan a stroke to his ego. He was set on ruining every single man for you.

Despite his taunt, he shoved a third finger inside your cunt, the only resistance being your tight walls.

Curling his fingers he stretched you to a point where he was comfortable enough with replacing them with his cock. His balls were beginning to get sore at the lack of breathing room.

The grip you had managed on his locks loosened when you felt him pull away, making you stutter as you opened your eyes again. It took some adjustment before the dots vanished and the figurative stars blinding you were replaced with the sight of his glory.

A broadshouldered, tanned naked hunk of glory. Sweat glistened on his chest, small beads decorated his hairline and his freed cock stood to attention. You hadn't noticed you were gaping at him until your mouth ran dry.

Gulping at his size, you gave him a dazed look that made his cock twitch against his stomach.

Before you had the chance to say anything - whether it be a horny comment or a total subjection to the God towering you - Joel grabbed you by your legs, pulling you down so that he was positioned directly above your entrance.

Although your juices provided more than enough lubrication, you noticed his cock had done the same, a small bead having escaped his slit. A sudden urge to taste him, you quickly reached down to swipe your thumb across his mushroom head, indulging in the salty taste.

The move made Joel groan although you could've sworn it was a whimper in disguise, a certain lovesick gleam in his brown eyes.

Crushing a kiss to your lips, he aligned himself at your entrance. As he inched in, Joel's forehead pressed against yours, his eyes focused on every change in your expression.

Your brows were knitted together in concentration, lips parted in a gasp and doe eyes glistened up at him through a watery lense.

Sliding in with easy, Joel stilled, quieting your moan with an open-mouthed kiss. He felt his cock stretch you, your walls hugging him tightly making him think you were made for him.

Your nails scratched against his back as he moved and you let out a cry, throwing your head back. It was both too much and not enough. Insatiable.

"Taking me so good, darlin'. Not gonna last long in your lil' cunt."

Joel slid a hand between your bodies, thumb suddenly drawing sloppy but aggressive circles on your clit. When he had first found a rhythm his hips did not stutter.

The mix of wet slapping sounds and chopped moans composing your lovestory. With his snapping hips and relentless work on your bundle of nerves, you felt yourself flutter against him, nails digging into his ass as he fucked you through orgasm.

Disjointed grunts echoed in his chest, revelling as your cunt squeezed his cock, pushing him out each time only to let him ram right back in.

Head nuzzled in your neck, kissing, nibbling and biting, he moved only to haul your legs over his shoulder. To enforce the deep feeling, he grasped your hand and put it just below your belly, pressing down.

"Ya feel that, doll? Rippin' you right open--fuck! Wan' me t'fill you up, uh?"

He tore you right apart, his cock ramming into you so hard you just knew you would be sore. But it didn't matter. He was worth it. This was worth it.

A slap to your cheek suddenly pulled you from cloud nine, his coarse hand roughly grasping you by the jaw.

"Tell me," murmured he, his jaw clenched, eyes locked on yours.

"Y-yes, Joel! Please, please!" Melting in his grip, you eagerly nodded, your words disjointed by your cries from feeling him so deep. "Need your cum, ba--"

Your plea was cut off by a muffled scream as all and any kindness left him, and he sped up for a brutal pace. Biting his shoulder, his hips snapped a few more times until he stilled deep inside you.

You tugged him close to you as pumps coated your walls, hot streams already oozing out. Panting, Joel sloppily fucked his come into you, wet kisses smudging across your collarbone. As you felt yourself come down, you reached for his face and kissed him breathless.

Finally he slumped off of you, falling into the place beside you, making you realize the brutal cramp in your legs from the position. Stretching your leg in the air, pulling your toes with your fingers you couldn't help but laugh when Joel noticed your situation.

"M'sorry," Joel chuckled awkwardly, the back of his hand running across his sweaty forehead.

You just shook your head, schooching closer to him to wrap your leg over his and you smiled lovingly up at him, adoring him.

"Don't worry, didn't even realize 'till you pulled out."

He wrapped his hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him, two sweaty bodies melting into one.

"Well shit, next time I ain't gon' be pullin' out then. Gonna fall asleep inside ya."

Nibbling his earlobe, you hummed and closed your eyes with giddy smile. "As long as you fuck me into the morning you can do whatever ya want."