#a) starve on my trip away in a few weeks and

[bluebellhairpin]

Job interview was a bust. Thinking this job application is gonna fall through. It's been two weeks since my government help was supposed to come through and it hasn't. Lads, not gonna lie, I don't think I'm getting any money anytime soon.

[elixirfromthestars]

A Night of Frights & Delights

Pairing: Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader (College AU)

Summary: It’s Friday the 13th and the college kids in town decided to host a weekend camping trip on the outskirts of town. Your best friend convinced you to go much to your reluctance. What could go wrong when the one guy you can’t stand is also there?

Word Count: 7k

Warning(s): slight horror themes / suggestive tones + implications / mentions of a past murder (not in graphic detail just campfire storytelling) / slow burn / suspense + other elements of spookiness / touch starved elements / be prepared for lots of back and forth + tension

Prompt: Campsite + forced proximity + “ It’s not bad enough to have Friday the 13th, we’ve gotta have a full moon too?”

a/n: here’s my entry for @witchywithwhiskey ‘s summer slasher writing challenge. Any chance to celebrate summerween and I’m there 🤭✨ I got carried away with the spooky element of it and this ended up longer than expected. Thank you for reading! 🧡 Feedback is always appreciated!! 🎃🧡

a steamy part two ❤️‍🔥

“ It’s Friday the 13th! Gather ‘round, for some good ol’ scary campfire stories!” Sam Wilson called out to anyone who would listen. A task that wasn’t the easiest thing to ask for when all the college students in the area were trying to have their last bit of fun before fall semester started. Amongst the ones that weren’t already drunk or passed out, a few were trying to find the perfect opportunity to sneak away into the night.

You on the other hand sat near the bonfire, appreciating the warmth it provided on this chilly night. Your back was resting against a log. The scratchy surface grazes against your black sweater at the slightest movement. Camping wasn’t your ideal choice for a weekend getaway, but when your best friend Jane insisted on you coming along it was hard to say no. Especially, since you had already said no to multiple get-togethers throughout the summer. 

It’s not like you didn’t want to hang out with her. The issue was that wherever she was her boyfriend was—and wherever he was his friends were. And his friends included one smartass star pitcher for your university’s baseball team who made it his life’s mission to be a thorn in your side. 

Needless to say, you couldn’t stand the man.

“ It was actually 1982, not 1985,” Jane whispers her comment to you, nudging your arm lightly. You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at her, your clueless eyes meeting her amused ones. 

“ You’re not paying attention to Sam’s story, are you?” She quietly calls you out, leaning slightly closer. You shake your head sheepishly,“ No. Kind of got lost in thought,” you admit. Jane nods in acknowledgment,“ You’re not missing much. He’s just telling the story of the murders that happened here in ‘82,” she explains. You nod slowly, an eerie chill creeping up your spine. Everyone within fifty miles of the town knew of the horrific crime. It was the worst the town had ever seen. 

A group of teenagers had snuck off into the woods to party a week before their senior graduation. They brought their camping gear to spend the night under the full moon to celebrate the milestone. They had gone so deep into the woods no one heard their music blasting all night. 

No one heard their screams either as their life was taken from them. 

You took a shaky breath, your fingers tracing random patterns into the dirt beneath you. Even though you could recite this story from memory it was different hearing it told in gruesome detail. Something Sam was not shying away from doing. 

“ Don’t let Sam’s story get to you—here have a s’more,” Thor spoke up, handing you a small disposable plate with a freshly assembled s’more. His way of trying to comfort you. 

“ Thanks,” you shot Thor an appreciative smile, taking the sweet treat. Jane’s boyfriend had always been kind to you and you got along well. The mutual friendliness extended to all of his baseball friends.

Well, the friendliness extended to all his friends except for one.  

“ He’s telling it wrong anyway, so don’t pay it any mind,” Jane says causing you to let out a small laugh. Leave it to Jane to alleviate your nerves by just being herself. 

You try to drown out Sam’s true crime retelling and focus on the sugary gooeyness on your lap. Jane and Thor snuggle into each other beside you and a small smile appears on your face at the sight. You take a bite of the s’more, letting the flavors melt into your mouth. 

“ The next morning the cops led a search party into these very woods. Everyone searched day and night for three days straight. Scouting every inch, no stone unturned, to find them. And then one day, one member of the search party found something. That member being my Titi—so listen close,” Sam sets up the big reveal. 

“ Wanna know what they found?” A voice you know all too well whispers into your ear from behind. The hairs on the back of your neck stand as his breath fans your ear. 

“ I already know,” you grit out, turning your head to glare at him. Bucky can’t help the cocky grin that overcomes him when you look at him like that. He makes his way over the log and sits right next to you. You don’t hide the displeasure on your face. 

“ Couldn’t find anyone else to annoy, James?” 

 “ None worth my time, sweetheart—and it's Bucky.” 

You roll your eyes biting back a snarky comment. No matter the number of times he insists on you calling him by his nickname, you refuse to. Only his friends call him Bucky, and you're not friends—far from it. So to you, he’s James and nothing more. 

“ We’re not friends, James. Friends don’t make you miss your biology final,” you remind him bitterly. He looks at you with slight disbelief,“ You’re still stuck on that? How is it my fault the party went until four in the morning?” You bristle at his defensiveness. 

“ I don’t know. Maybe by not kicking everyone out of your apartment?” you retort, taking another bite of your s’more. Hoping to lose yourself in the sweetness of it before the distaste of his presence taints it. 

“ At least the professor let you make it up…” he mutters under his breath. 

“ That’s not the point,” you snip, unable to let him have the last word. You pretend to focus on Sam’s story, but really your attention is on the flames in front of you. The way they dance and crackle as if telling their own story alongside Sam’s. 

Bucky stares at you, his eyes scanning every detail of your face. His favorite pastime is finding all the ways to push your buttons. There’s something about your reactions that he can’t help but want to see more of. He openly enjoys being the only one who can elicit such responses from you. Hell, you could say he was proud of it. 

“ Stop it.” 

“ Stop what?” 

“ The staring.” 

“ Don't want to.” 

You turn to give him a piece of your mind but abruptly stop when you see the way he’s looking at you—or more so the way he’s examining your lips. His eyes reflecting more than just the golden flames in the bonfire. There was something deeper and not entirely unfamiliar. He had looked at you this way before, and yet it was still unrecognizable to you. An emotion you couldn’t pinpoint, but that was heartstopping nonetheless. 

His hand lifts to your face, his thumb brushing away at something on the corner of your mouth. Your tongue instinctively darts out to lick your lips and remove whatever remnants of the s’more are left. Something unreadable flashes in his eyes. You wonder what he must be seeing in yours when his eyes drift from your lips to your gaze. 

“ You had a little something there,” his voice has a deeper cadence to it, contrasting the cheeky grin plastered on his face. That damn grin. It’s all you need to snap out of whatever trance you were just in. 

“ You’re insufferable,” you hiss out, getting up from your spot on the ground and stepping away from the bonfire. You hate how he does this—how easily he’s able to mess with you. It’s like it's his second nature to know exactly how to get a reaction from you. Almost as if he knew you better than you knew yourself.

The vulnerability of it all is what ground your gears the most. Bucky was used to this. The flirting, the back and forth, the teasing, and having girls wrapped around his finger. The last time you were in a relationship was your freshman year of college—a few years ago. It had been too long of being touch-starved that the slightest of touches or gazes brought about a yearning deep within you. One that you swore Bucky could see right through and it made you detest the man more. 

You hated feeling like you were being toyed with. But above all, you hated how much you actually didn’t hate the attention he gave you. 

You make your way over to one of the many trashcans around the campsite and dump the last bits of your s’more in along with the disposable plate. Your appetite for the treat long gone after his little stunt. 

You use your phone as a flashlight as you walk over to where all the tents are stationed. It’s not too far from the bonfire, but far enough that the voices of everyone drown out into a low hum. A few people are already in the tents enjoying the night without the warmth of the fire. 

“ Y/n! Hold up!” Jane calls out to you from behind. You face her confused expression, “ Everything okay?” You nod, your hands hiding in the pockets of your grey sweatpants,“ Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna call it a night,” you say tiredly. You don’t want her to worry or keep her from enjoying her night. 

“ Okay…Are you sure? Because you seemed off after Bucky—” 

“ Please for the love of everything don’t mention him.”

Jane drops the subject entirely, “ Okay, okay. I won’t,” she assures you and pauses for a moment before she adds, “ By the way, I’ll be staying with Thor tonight, so you have our tent all to yourself.” 

“ Oh? Oh…behave yourself, Foster,” you warn her playfully. She rolls her eyes waving off your tease,“ No promises.” You laugh together—the exchange alleviating the heaviness in your shoulders.

After a light farewell, your best friend retreats to the bonfire. You find your eyes drifting from her figure to the back of Bucky’s head. He’s still sitting in the same spot, right next to where you had sat. He was drinking away at a beer as Sam continues his story. You look away, ignoring the way your heart feels a small pang as it wonders if it would have been so bad if you had stayed.

Only Bucky had this way of infuriating you, but enticing you at the same time. A magnetic push and pull that tugs at you whenever you’re near him. 

You crouch down and unzip your humble abode for the night. Gazing up at the sky before heading in. The moon is bright and full amongst the dark hazy clouds. 

“ It's not bad enough to have Friday the 13th, we've gotta have a full moon too?” you grumble before entering the tent. The knowledge of being in here alone all night sounds less appealing now. You wish Sam had told a different story to set the mood for tonight. 

For the next couple of hours, you lose yourself in your sketchbook. Every corner of the tent became your makeshift desk as the soft scratches of graphite filled the air. A small LED lantern casting just enough glow to guide your intricate curves and shadows across the paper. At first, you were sketching a flower you had seen earlier in the day along a trail. You don’t recognize the species, but the cluster of pretty violet petals vividly lived in your head and you wanted it forever memorialized in your sketchbook. 

At some point, however, the petals turn into doodles and then unrecognizable scribbles. The creative flow taking a life of its own. You soon find yourself drawing a pair of eyes on another page. Giving them a space of their own. These eyes you recognize deep down, but they still have the same unreadable expression from earlier. Almost as if you hoped to decipher it by putting it on paper. 

Maybe then it would be easier to look at them without being affected—without feeling that pull. 

There’s a loud thump that echoes close to your tent. You freeze at the sound. By this point, everyone had called it a night and retreated to their sleeping arrangements. It had been at least half an hour that you hadn’t heard a single sound except for the chirping of crickets amongst a chorus of other creepy crawlers. 

When no sound followed the thump you decided to ignore it—acting like you hadn’t heard a thing. And yet, your fingers swiftly moved to turn off the lantern and close your sketchbook, neatly tucking it beneath your pillow. 

Another noise rang out—the skidding of dirt. And this time it was closer to your tent. Not directly outside it, but almost. You don’t know why your heart dropped or why your fingertips went cold, but they did. You tell yourself it’s probably just someone going out to use the bathroom or some other related activity. 

Your body betrayed your mind as it started to feel enclosed in the tent. Like a prey caught in a trap. Hopelessly awaiting the moment the predator decided to take them out. 

You swallow the lump in your throat and with numb fingers, you grab your phone. The tent shrinking around you as your heart pounded in your chest. Going out to investigate the source of the noise wasn't the smartest idea. However, continuing to be a sitting duck in the tent was distressing you more—and that helpless feeling overpowered anything else. 

You slowly unzip the tent, trying to make as minimal noise as possible. You slip on your moccasins, putting one foot in front of the other as you step out into the night. Your surroundings are cast in shadows as the moon seems to be hiding behind a gloomy cluster of clouds. You look around and notice no one else is awake. Only dormant tents with sleeping residents inside accompany you in the night. 

You scan the area, training your ear to see if you can pick up any noise. 

That’s when you hear it—a rustling in the bushes. 

You peer into the woods, your eyes narrowing hoping to center on something, but you can’t see anything. There’s a slight fog that encases the lines of trees encircling the campsite obstructing your view. 

You take a few steps forward, hugging your sweater closer to your body. The outside air catches you off guard with its falling degrees. The shadows at every corner of the woods become creatures of the night if you stare at them for too long. 

Why were you doing this? Why had you decided this was a good idea? 

You questioned yourself. An unpleasant shiver goes up your spine at the thought of you walking straight into a creature’s claws. Your footing stumbled, and yet you found yourself walking further in the direction of the sound, the faint glow of your phone illuminating your path. You decided against using the actual flashlight on your phone as it could easily alert whatever was hiding in the foliage of the woods. 

You don’t go too far from the campsite. Your legs only take you a few feet away from the perimeter of it before tensing at the way the hoot of an owl cuts through the stillness of the night. Your breath caught in your throat, and you gripped your phone tighter. The edges of it digging into your skin. 

“ What are we looking for?” A voice too close for comfort whispers behind you and it causes you to shriek, your phone tumbling to the ground as you jump away from the source. Your eyes zero in on the culprit—your blood boiling when your gaze meets his ceruleans. 

James Buchanan fucking Barnes.

A deep chuckle erupts from Bucky at your reaction. Not only at the way you jumped, but also at the way you’re now seething. He stands there in a basic white tee and black joggers, his hair slightly unkempt from lying on it earlier in the night. 

“ What the hell is wrong with you?” You hiss, bending down to pick up your phone from the ground. The anxiety from before dissipating into irritation. 

“ Me? What’s up with you? Sneaking around in the woods at night. That’s kinda creepy, sweetheart,” he jabs with a smirk. You roll your eyes, exhaling to steady your breath,“ Stop calling me that. And I'm not sneaking around—I heard something.” 

“ And you came to check it out?” 

“ Yeah.”

“ You have no survival instincts, do you?”

“ And you do? You're out here too.”

Bucky crosses his arms, his eyes roaming over your figure. He’s thoroughly entertained by your attempt to catch whatever is out there in your cozy outfit. It’s not exactly monster-hunting material. 

“ I let my buddy have the tent for the night. He’s got a girl in there. Thought I'd sleep under the stars like nature intended,” he explains with a nonchalant shrug. A wry smile appears on your face,“ Aren’t you a great friend,” you reply sarcastically. He’s about to give you a snippy retort when a branch breaks ahead of you, causing you both to snap your attention to it. 

You both go silent—wondering if you’ll hear anything more. Bucky takes a few steps forward to stand in front of you. Positioning himself between you and the unknown noise. 

“ Is that what you heard earlier?” He asks, his voice a hushed whisper. Your eyes drift up his form and the way his arm is slightly outstretched in your direction in a protective stance. He’s looking in the direction of where the sound came from, but then his head turns back to look at you. 

It takes you a second to gather your words,“ Sort of. At first there was like a loud thud by my tent and then some rustling—and now this,” you describe the unfolding events thus far.

He frowns,“ Is your tent the one by Wanda’s?”At his question you nod,“ Yeah…why?” He tilts his head slightly as he tries to recollect something. 

“ The two-person one with the purple edges?” 

“ Yeah…” 

His features soften, dawning on a sheepish expression. His protective stance faltering as he scratches the back of his neck,“ The noise was me then—sorry. I tripped over something while looking for a place to piss.” 

“ Oh…” Is all you manage to say. Feeling utterly foolish for getting so worked up over nothing. What you had thought was something going bump in the night ended up being Bucky stumbling to relieve himself. 

Another branch cracks in the murky fog. Reminding you that although the noises you heard outside your tent were explained, the ones here, not too far from you and Bucky—weren’t. 

“ I’m gonna go check it out,” he takes a step forward, but you stop him. Your hand shoots out to grip the hem of his shirt,“ Don’t! Are you crazy? You’re going to get yourself killed or something!”

His eyebrows raise, not expecting you to have that reaction.“ Are you worried about me, sweetheart?” A smirk spreads across his face, a twinkle in his eye.“ As if—screw you,” you deny harsher than you intended, removing your hold from his shirt. This only provokes him more, his smirk turning into a cheeky grin,“ You wanna?” 

“ You know what? I hope whatever is out there gets you.” 

“ Oh, you’d miss me if it did. But don’t worry—if it gets me, I’ll make sure to let it know you’re the one worth chasing." 

Bucky doesn’t give you a second to process what his words really mean. Instead, he takes out a small flashlight from the pocket of his joggers. He turns it on, shining the area ahead of him. A brazen expression is the last thing you see before he wanders into that direction of the woods as if there wasn’t potentially something dangerous up ahead. 

You wanted to protest, but you didn’t. Rather, you end up standing there amongst the wilderness, watching as his form gets smaller and smaller until it disappears into the haze of the fog. 

You feel uneasy as soon as you don’t see him. Your chest feels heavy with the unknown. You call out to him. Thinking maybe he’s doing this to prove something or to mess with you. When he doesn’t call back you find apprehension in the sinking pit of your stomach. 

Behind you, the campsite is still in sight. The smart thing to do would be to go wake someone up—like Thor—to go after Bucky. However, your feet work faster than your mind does, pushing you to follow after him. 

This time you use the flashlight on your phone to light your path. The luminescence cuts through the fog as you trudge through it. Leaves crunching beneath your feet, and hands outstretched lightly to use the passing trees as support to persist onward. 

You walk for a good few minutes before you finally spot him. He’s standing by a tall pine tree, his right hand tracing over something etched into the bark. 

“ James! Come back to the campsite!” You whisper yelled, approaching him. He hummed,“ So you are worried about me,” the smugness in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you. When he turns to face you his eyes tell you he was expecting you. Like he knew in the end your stubbornness and pride wouldn’t matter because you’d end up following after him after all.

You are worried about him. He needs no further proof than your actions. 

There was a prickling of annoyance building up in your system. More than anything, you wanted to get out of the woods as soon as possible. The campsite feels like a haven awaiting your return. 

“ Can you stop being so insufferably cocky for one second and just come back to the camp before I drag your ass back?” You say through gritted teeth. You wanted to have more bark to your bite, but the inkling dread of what could be out here stopped you from crossing that line. 

He stepped closer to you, the glow of his flashlight reflecting in his eyes in tiny glimmers,“ Why? I thought you didn't care if ‘whatever is out there’ got me.”

“ I don’t—but I’d hate to be an accomplice to that thing.” 

“ Admit it. You’re worried about me.”

By now Bucky was mere inches away from you. Having slowly sauntered right up to you. His eyes were daring you to speak the truth—his arrogant smile tempting you to do even more. 

“ I came to get you back, but if you’re determined to stay here then stay,” you huff, spinning on your heels to storm off. 

Bucky’s hand reaches out and encloses your wrist gently. Just enough to keep you from walking away. He sighs with defeated ire. 

“ Sweetheart, why won't you admit—” he’s cut off by the swift movement of something dashing past the both of you. He immediately pulls you in closer, his arms encasing you protectively—his body a shield. One arm is wrapped around your waist while the other holds your head. Your own body leans into his as if bracing for impact. 

From the corner of your eye, you can see the culprit of the racket. A deer dashing through the woods like it had somewhere to be. You held back a laugh at the revelation. 

This is what had you so worried this whole time? A deer? 

Even so, your heart races in your chest. And Bucky has you so tightly pressed into his that you can feel the way his own heart is thrumming rapidly. Both of your breaths work to steady from their instability as you realize there is nothing truly to be worried about. 

You stay like this for what seems like an eternity. Finding comfort in each other’s arms. The fog dances around your figures as if pushing you closer. The tips of your fingers tingle from where they’re pressed at his chest. 

When you finally register whose touch it is, you pull away. Bucky reluctantly lets you go. His arms awkwardly falling to his sides. You don’t know what to say. He doesn’t know where to start.

Why was his instinct to protect you? To keep you from harm’s way? 

And why had you felt the safest all night in his arms? 

You swallow the questions that desire to escape. There’s a part of you that feels like you should thank him, but then the other part feels stupid for wanting to do so. Knowing how much it would feed his ego to vindicate him as a hero. 

“ Guess it was just a deer, huh?” Bucky tries to cut through whatever tension is starting to build. 

“ Yeah…silly us…” you reply, half-heartedly. Your mind still reeling from his touch. 

You both go quiet again. The silence welcomes you where words fail to. 

Out of nowhere, you feel a tiny bead land on your head. Followed by one on your hand and then your cheek. It's beginning to drizzle. The rain cutting through the trees and promising to kiss every inch of your skin. 

“ We should get going,” Bucky says, his palm cupped to catch a few droplets. 

“ Yeah, that’s a good idea,” you agree, clearing your throat. In other circumstances, Bucky would rejoice and point out how, for once, you aren’t arguing with him. But not right now—not at this moment. Not when the memory of holding each other stirred something within you both. 

No, now instead you walk back to the campsite in silence. You’re a few steps ahead as Bucky decides to tow along at a slower pace. Seemingly lost in thought. 

When you’re back at the campsite your eyes dart to your tent. It’s within reach. A safety you can hideout in until the emotions Bucky arose in you fade away.  

“ Can I chill in your tent for a while? Just until the rain stops,” Bucky surprises you with his request. Until you remember he gave up his tent to his friend for the night. 

“ What? No,” your response is immediate. The thought of you and Bucky alone in your tent causes many scenarios to run through your head. You didn’t think you’d make it through the night with him in it. You were barely hanging on as it is. 

“ I just saved your life.” 

“ You did not.”

“ Did too.” 

“ James, you absolutely did not–” 

“ Please,” his soft plea tugs at the very part of you that wants to say yes. He’s not the kind of guy to beg, but he’ll do anything to not stand out in the cold rain. You being in an enclosed space with him was just a bonus. 

An extremely tantalizing bonus. 

“ Fine…but only until the rain stops,” you concede. You weren’t heartless enough to leave him out in the rain. 

You zip open the tent and climb inside. You remove your moccasins and leave them by the entrance. The inside is spacious enough for the two of you, but you still find yourself going into the furthest right corner of it. You sit crossed-legged as you turn on the small LED lantern to illuminate the tent with its muted glow. He makes his way inside, his hair glistening from the rain. He leaves his muddied slides by your moccasins. 

“ This tent is way nicer than the one Sam and I got,” he comments, running a hand through his hair to dispel the droplets. He’s trying to make light conversation, keeping his distance as he sits in the corner by the entrance diagonally from you. 

“ Jane’s family is really into camping so she had this one laying around…” you mention. The oddity of small talk between you fills the space with a foreign dynamic. The rain goes from a sprinkle to a pour. Hitting the top of the fabric cacoon in harsh strokes.  

He chooses to pivot the conversation.“ Do you have everything ready for fall semester?” He asks you, maneuvering to sit with his knees bent, his shirt hiking up the smallest bit to expose the skin at his hips. You avert your gaze when your heart does a little flip. 

“ Almost. I still have one or two textbooks to get,” you reply, playing with a few loose threads of the blanket beneath you. Anything to not have your eyes wander back to him. 

He scoffs lightly,“ You already got your textbooks? There’s no way. I always get ‘em after the first week.” Unlike you, he can’t seem to keep his pretty blues away from you. Your features heightened in the gentle sheen of the lantern. Intricate shadows scattered across your figure that made you look ethereal. The way his heart hammered in his chest romanticizing the sight of you.

“ That's because I’m responsible and you’re not.” 

“ I am responsible. As captain of the baseball team—”

“ Spare me the team leader speech, please,” you groan, stopping him from continuing. There’s only so much you can take for one night. And hearing Bucky light up as he talks about the one thing he’s passionate about—the one thing that humanizes him to you beyond his usual cheeky self. It would do more to you than just make your heart do a little flip.

You’d end up saying or doing something you wouldn’t be able to take back. 

“ Look, Y/n, I’m just trying to make conversation here. You don’t have to be so difficult all the time. Just talk to me,” Bucky brings you out of your thoughts not only by his exasperated tone, but by the way your name rolls off his tongue. He so rarely calls you by it. He’s called you sweetheart endlessly—and he’s even slipped a few sunshines in the mix—but your name was foreign to his vocabulary.  

 Bucky is usually good at dealing with your constant back and forth. Some days it's the only thing he looks forward to. However, right now it was irritating him how much you pushed back. He wanted you to give in. To what, he wasn’t sure. But he wondered what normalcy felt like with you—what just a damn friendly conversation felt like. 

You sigh, meeting his eyes.“ I don’t want to talk. Sorry, I think I’m just tired. Maybe we should go to bed,” you suggest, hoping that if he says yes you can sleep away the bubbling of emotions in your chest. 

You can see the way he contemplates something, biting the inside of his bottom lip. Now he’s the one holding back. A beat passes and you nervously wonder if he’ll turn down your suggestion. 

“ Fine—it's late anyway. But only if I get to sleep next to you. I promise I’ll keep my distance. It’s just there’s water leaking through the zipper at the entrance,” he mentions, his hand motioning to the entry. Your eyes dart to where he’s pointing and sure enough there’s a small puddle of water pooling by it. Not knowing how long the rain would continue, you knew you had to deal with the issue.

You grab Jane’s camping gear that holds numerous amount of supplies in all of its various pockets. She always came extra prepared no matter the occasion. You take out a washcloth, scooting over to the entrance to soak up the forming puddle. You decide to leave it there neatly tucked underneath where the water was finding its way in.

“ Alright, but if you snore I'm kicking you out,” you warn, but it’s more playful than serious. Something to lighten the mood before you go to bed. A way to dissipate whatever tension’s built up so you'd be able to fall asleep. 

It’s hard to cut through the tension and alleviate its symptoms when your shelter from the storm seems to shrink the more you chat with Bucky. And now sitting right next to him—shoulder to shoulder—it seems like a damn near impossible task. 

" I’ll take my chances. But just so you know, I don’t go down without a fight,” he winks at you, your shoulders brushing. Your heart rate picks up and it takes everything within you to stare into his eyes and not focus on the way that simple contact sent a shiver down your spine. 

His eyes drift to your lips causing your breath to hitch. The implications of where this could go are enough to pull you away from his spell. 

“ Goodnight,” you choke out. Subtly rushing over to your sleeping bag and settling into it. You don’t see when he shakes his head, but you do hear how he chuckles lowly. He mumbles something under his breath, but you can’t pick it up. 

He makes his way over to Jane’s sleeping bag, but lays on top of it instead of nestling into it. Choosing to cover himself only in the maroon fleece blanket that was draped over your body too. 

“ Goodnight,” he finally says, his body turning to face away from you. You respond by turning off the lantern. The space is now engulfed by darkness. Only the faintest of light shines in from the outside, letting your eyes trace the outlines of objects. 

 You turn to your side. Your back facing his. You take a deep breath, concentrating on the sound of the rain to hopefully lull you into a slumber. But the air felt too thick and your body was burning up from the heat radiating under the blanket. There was a good foot or so separating your body and Bucky’s. And yet, you could feel the heat radiating off of him as if he was pressed up right against you. 

It was too much. You swore you started sweating, so you shuffled under the covers and out of the sleeping bag. Every movement slow and deliberate as if to not snap the rope keeping the palpable tension in place. 

When only the plush fleece covered your body, the heat radiated less. But the fluttering of the blanket caused Bucky’s cologne to waft your way. A pleasant scent of musky woodiness with a hint of something that was entirely him. You gripped the cover tightly and counted to ten in your head. You were going mad. 

“ Would you stop hogging the blanket? ” Bucky muttered from beside you. There were a lot of things he wanted to tell you to stop doing. Because you and your constant fidgeting were driving him crazy. Every fiber of his being holding back from doing something to snap that rope. 

You didn’t realize you had been pulling it your way until he mentioned it. Your grip on it loosened,“ Sorry. I wasn’t hogging it though,” you argued for no reason other than to fill the silence. 

“ Yes, you were.” 

“ No, I wasn’t.” 

There was something about the proximity of your bodies that made the blanket seem smaller. Like there was no possible way it could equally cover both of your sleeping forms. Maybe this is what caused you to then tug at it, however, he holds it firmly to himself too.  

Persistently you pull at the blanket again. He pulls back—a tug of war ensues between you. You can hear him huff in the darkness, but you're not letting up. Bucky couldn't care less about the blanket. He only cared about not letting you get the upper hand. His competitive streak showing.  

While you solely really didn’t want to let him win. 

You wrap the end of the blanket around yourself—almost like a cacoon. The delicate fleece encases you. Leaving the bare minimum amount for Bucky to cover himself with. 

“ You have got to be one of the most stubborn people I have ever met in my goddamn life,” he practically growls as he yanks forcefully on the blanket. A tiny yelp escapes you as you get pulled along with it. 

You underestimated the strength of the star pitcher. 

You end up on top of him. The blanket now an extra cushy barrier between your bodies. In the dim light, your eyes lock, and you can faintly see the outline of a boyish grin on his face. You don’t move away. There’s like an invisible force that keeps you there. Your body pressed against his feeling his warmth tenfold. You can’t tell if either of you are breathing because all you're aware of now is how his heart beats in time with yours. 

“ You’re insufferable you know that?” you swallow hard, your voice lacking its usual bite.

“ You sure about that, sweetheart?” he challenges, his voice barely above a whisper. His lips brushing against yours with feather-light contact.

When had your lips gotten so close? 

You don’t know who leans in first. The one who finally breaks the standoff because your lips seem to meet at the same time. The kiss is sweet, but with a slight hesitance to it. As if neither of you are completely sure the other wants this. Or more like neither of you believes this is happening. However, when his hands grip the back of your thighs, sliding your legs from on top of him to his sides so you straddle him—you believe it. And when your hands find themselves threading in his hair—he believes it. 

One kiss that tests the waters turns into one that slowly sinks into the feeling. Until the two of you fully submerge into the depths of whatever has been simmering between you for what seems like too long. Delicate kisses that get more heated—more intense as your lips continue to meet. Bucky beams at the fact that you’re no longer pushing, but pulling into him. His craving for you only increasing now that he’s had a taste. 

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, slow and gentle. Asking for permission to deepen the kiss. Bucky Barnes isn’t the type to be slow and gentle—but when it comes to you he finds himself wanting to relish every second he gets. Not knowing when he’ll get another moment like this with you again. 

Your lips part enough for him to slip his tongue in to truly kiss you like he wanted to. As soon as you grant access he takes full opportunity to explore every corner of your mouth. His tongue molding with yours in fervor. Your fingers lightly tug at his hair while his hands roam your body memorizing every curve and dip. Wherever he gripped and caressed, his touch left heat in its wake. 

A heat you had to contain before it consumed you both. 

“ If you think you’re getting lucky tonight—think again. This is the most you’ll get,” You say breathlessly, pulling away to help your lungs remember what oxygen is. 

He groans, breath panting, the outline of his pout evident in the dim light,“ Don’t do this to me, sweetheart. Can’t leave me like this.” His voice a desperate whine that allured you to keep going. 

“ Too bad. You're dreaming if you think this is going any further.” 

“ God, you don’t wanna know what I've dreamed about.” 

“ Shut up,” you cut off his groan with another kiss. Fierce enough to silence him immediately. He hopes you shut him up like this more often. 

Your lips meet again in a hasty lock. No hesitation now as your tongues meet quicker. You seem to be obsessed with his hair as you run your fingers through it again. He shivers at the touch. His hands slide under your sweater to trail along your soft skin. Keeping his hands along your back and waist. Teetering around the boundary you drew, so he didn’t get carried away. But it was hard when kissing you felt as good as throwing the perfect game—maybe even better.

He realizes the emotions you bring out of him are worth a lifetime waiting for.

He pulls away this time to catch his breath, his hands sliding up your body to cup your face,“ I’m in no rush, sweetheart. I’ve got all the time in the world to take it all the way—make you fall for me.” 

You hum, leaning into his touch,“ You seem sure of yourself. ”

His voice is rough yet affectionate when he speaks,“ I’m sure of you, sweetheart. You’re worth every second, and I’m not stopping until you see it too.” 

He gives you one final tender kiss. One that's full of promise for the future. You weren’t sure if it was his words or the meaning in the kiss that stole your breath away. 

After a few seconds, you both pull away. Separating your bodies from each other to provide that much-needed space before lines were crossed.

“ Goodnight, Bucky,” you say, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how you would keep your hands and lips to yourself come tomorrow. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat when you called him by his nickname. Bringing a genuine smile to his face, loving the way it sounded coming from you. 

“ Goodnight, Y/n.”

Even after saying goodnight, the two of you can’t fall asleep immediately. You try to, but there are small moments in the night where you drift back to each other. Where in the darkness your lips meet again and again—satiating the tension in parts. Where your hands find themselves under the covers and layers of clothing. Flaming the fans of desire just enough so it doesn’t completely burn out, but smoldering to be reignited at any moment’s chance. 

You don’t realize when you fall asleep. Your eyelids growing heavy at some point tangled up in his body under the covers. Your face in the crook of his neck. His head resting on top of yours. Your bodies fit like puzzle pieces like they were meant to be connected in every way. 

It’s not until that morning when you wake up and find yourself in his arms, snuggled into his side, that the events of last night sink in. You pull away the tiniest bit. Merely enough to be able to get a look at him. The brown strands of his hair tousled and clinging to his forehead. The slope of his nose, his dark lashes fanned delicately against his skin, and the tiniest parting of his lips. He looks peaceful—almost angelic as he slumbers. 

You’re itching to sketch the image in front of you. 

You can’t stop yourself from reaching out to touch the strands at his forehead. It’s enough to have his eyes flutter open, their color brighter in the daylight. He gives you a lazy smile the instant he realizes last night wasn’t a dream and you really were here, nestled in his arms. 

No words were exchanged, but both of you were conscious of the line you had drawn last night. And yet, you both also knew that in time, that line would be crossed again and again. Until the line blurred into oblivion.

[biteyoubiteme]

late shift

fem!reader x bangchan

synopsis: you and your virgin coworker Chan share a bed. 

warnings:🔞 !!! virgin!chan, whiny!chan, oral (m!rec), orgasm denial (m!rec), size kink if you squint, dom(ish) reader, praise, no protection, creampie, one bed trope, prob forgot some

wc: 3.77k

an: my first request! Thank you for submitting hope i did it justice lol also i lost the request i dont know where it went ;-; but i think i got everything you asked for

I used the line about ‘inviting someone back for ramen at your place’ synonymously with the term 'netflix and chill' I'm pretty sure that's the way the line is used in Korea. Correct me if I'm wrong lol. Anyways feedback appreciated :)) not proof read sorry! [m.list] 

You've been at your current job for a few years and every other Friday you and your coworkers go out for a drink or dinner depending on how heavy the workload had been the previous weeks. This Friday was one of those times, only most of your coworkers had taken a work trip to help secure a big account. The office was basically empty around the end of the day now, only your office light and the office across the hall was on. Chan, the owner of the space in front of yours, could be seen typing on his computer through the glass, one of the few who had opted out of the trip to be able to leave earlier. Only both of you hadn't been leaving the office at reasonable times even if it had been promised. your days were still just as long only now you were picking up the other's work while they were gone. it was a shit deal but neither of you would complain, too shy to bring it up to your boss who did in fact keep his word on letting himself out early. 

rubbing at your eyes you power off your laptop after looking at the time. if you didn't leave now to catch a streetcar you would have to walk home and you were too drained to do that. you start to pack up your things and across the way, you can see Chan doing the same, probably set to move when you did. he was always nice enough to wait every night until you got off to walk you to the stop sign to wait for your ride before he went across the street to catch a streetcar headed in the opposite direction. even without your other coworkers, he was always smiling at you from across the way waving as you left to head home. 

As you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed to turn out the lights Chan was at the doorway giving a shy smile. “I'm a few seconds from collapsing on the floor and sleeping in my office,” 

“me too,” you flip off the lights, “and I'm starving I don't even think I have anything in my fridge,” 

Chan keeps pace with you as you make your way out of the building, reaching ahead of you to press the call elevator button “We could always keep the tradition going even if it's just the two of us, find a place for dinner?” 

“I don't know, not a lot of places are open at this hour and I want to eat on the couch and pass out,” you say hopping in after Chan when the elevator arrives. The space is small enough to have your elbows touching. Chan pressed the button for the lobby, “We could eat ramen at your place?” 

You are shocked to hear his suggestion and you assume he is too seeing at how he is bright red and stuttering, “No not like that- well kinda but just the food part- wait- I-,” he cuts himself off giving a flustered sigh, “I'm sorry i- we do not have to i'll just go home I'm sorry,” chan's rubbing at the back of his neck, ears red, eyes scrunched to avoid looking at anything at all because it would kill him to see your negative reaction. hell, it will kill him hearing you say no and push him away even if it was an innocent suggestion in the first place. he really didn't mean it that way he only wanted to hang out because he liked you and now he's gone and ruined that with a suggestion he didn't even fully intend to say in that way. 

Your giggle fills the silent elevator and you bump your shoulder against his arm, “It's okay Channie, it's definitely a perfect idea, ramen sounds so good, anything warm will send me straight to bed,” You find it cute how flustered he gets around the topic of sex. drinks out with coworkers leading to his confession months ago that he was inexperienced in bed, the flush on his cheeks as he begged the others not to ask him dirty questions. 

please you're joking Chan there is no way you haven't had sex yet! your defense of him that night only makes him like you more, who cares anyway? We should not be sharing bedroom talk with our coworkers. To know you are all kiss and tellers is an explanation enough as to why none of you get any when we go to bars. The conversation moved past Chan's Confession to laughs about how their coworkers had in fact picked up ladies from bars before. Chan had been thankful but the next morning when he remembered sharing he was a virgin in front of his crush was mortifying but you never brought it up again. 

you didn't really care that Chan was a virgin, finding out didn't make you like him any less than you already did. even if Chan had been asking to go back to your place to have sex you don’t think you would have turned him down. for as long as you worked in the office across from him you couldn't help but think about asking him out just the two of you but you had witnessed Chan turn someone down before in the breakroom. The way he smiled so sweetly as he said he didn't really like to date coworkers made you try and push the image of the two of you together away. you were friends and inviting him over was something friends did. 

“There is a convenience store across from my apartment, works out great,” you smile once you leave the elevator, “it won't be too late for you to head back home later?” 

“no northbound street cars run another lap, unlike the southbound ones I should make the last one,” the two of you ride to your place with polite small talk, and when you get off you cross the street to the store to pick up your dinner. 

It's the first time Chan has been in your small place, the one you haven't upgraded since you were in college because you didn't see the need for any more room but with Chan in the living room taking up most of the couch you wish you had. Both of you seated watching TV had your legs pressed together from the hip to the knee, his body heat overwhelmingly comfortable as you ate dinner. 

Neither of you realized you were beginning to fade, eyelids heavy as you tried to blink away sleep. When you realized you had dozed off, the TV was playing a movie that neither of you had put on, your head resting on Chan as he slumped over the armrest of the couch. you pick up your phone to check the time, the movement waking Chan up, “oh no it's so late,” you yawn pulling yourself up, “The last streetcar left an hour ago,” 

“shit,” Chan yawns, stretching out still in his button-up shirt, he had taken off his work coat when he came in but this was nothing he could sleep in. 

“it's okay you can stay but I have nothing for you to wear,” 

“I can walk it's okay-“

“You will not be walking all the way home. it's fine you can sleep in my bed I don't even think the couch is long enough for me to stretch out all the way,” 

“Then where will you sleep?” 

“the floor, it's okay,” you say waving him away to check to make sure your room is clean of clothes on the floor. you wave him over as he shakes his head, “No you're not sleeping on the floor in your own home, we can share I don't mind, or I'll Sleep on the floor,” 

“Fine, we can share,” You're too tired to argue, too tired to think about the fact that Chan is standing in the doorway as you turn around and pull out your oversized sleepshirt, shedding your work top and bra off. 

Chan is suddenly frozen fully awake watching you. He can only see your bare back turned to him, the image of your fingers unhooking your bra burned into his mind before you tug on the oversized shirt. but you're not done, the button of your work pants is undone, and at only sound in the room is the ripple of your zipper before you tug your pants down leaving you in your underwear. he cannot see them but he can see the outline through your white shirt, the black fabric hugging your ass as you pull the covers back to climb into the bed. “turn off the lights when you're ready,” your eyes already closed as you snuggle into the sheets. but Chan can't move. He is sure if you opened your eyes it would be very obvious that he was thinking about you lying in bed next to him almost naked. only two articles of fabric separating your completely naked form from him. 

he swallows the lump in his throat unbuttoning his work shirt, when it's gone he starts on his pants even taking them off to leave him in his underwear is enough to make him sigh. the pressure on his cock releasing just a bit but not enough to make him go soft. He's cursing at his body for making it so obvious he wants you. You're so natural at this, not even caring that he's climbing in bed next to you and he's a complete mess as he edges in on the far side of the bed trying not to make any contact at all as he turns the lamp off. 

in the dark, he tries to tell himself to calm down but it doesn't work, not when he can smell you on the sheets, when all he can think about is that if you touched yourself you would have to do it in this bed. 

You're not even thinking about anything besides falling asleep. You can hear Chan trying to get comfortable next to you, tossing and turning, the dip in the bed from his weight making you slide closer to him. you're barely touching him but he's gone still next to you, without thinking you roll your hips to try and pull away not wanting to make him uncomfortable but it does the opposite because you slide closer to him your ass pressed against his very prominent erection. 

if it wasn't for Chan's uneven breaths you would have thought he was asleep with how still and quiet he is. you wonder if you should pull away and ignore him, act like nothing was wrong, that you did not feel anything at all, and that you were asleep already and it was an accident. but the heat of him makes you wet, just the idea of rubbing back against him sends you into overdrive. you move your hips again to hear the soft whine Chan lets out, he's so close to your ear that it makes the sound amplified. 

Chan reaches out, his palm wrapping around your hip and you brush against him again. His whine is louder, a weak, “I'm Sorry,” mixed in with the sound. Chan's hips bump forward looking for more friction but you can tell he's trying to hold himself back with how hard he's holding you. “it's okay,” you whisper grinding back into his strained thrusts. 

“ill stop, I swear,” but he can't bring himself to listen to anything he says, the feel of your ass against him is so much better than when he ruts against his pillow at home. You're so warm, so firm, and he can't help himself. Chan's movements are jerky as he presses himself against you, the thin material of his underwear making him groan in annoyance. 

“You don't have to stop,” you mutter, encouraging him with each roll of your hips against him. “if you want I can use my hands,” 

The thought alone would have made Chan cum if he hadn't pulled himself away from you, rolling on his back and whining from denying himself. 

you sit up next to him, watching him squeeze his eyes shut, hair a mess on his forehead before he runs his hands through it grabbing the strands and pulling at them. He's panting hard, the rise and fall of his chest catching your attention. You've never seen Chan shirtless, you didn't know that underneath the suit he wears he is completely ripped. Your mouth waters with the need to lick him up and down, to kiss him, if he let you suck him off it would be a very good night. “If you don't want me to use my hands I could use my mouth,” Chan whines again, a weak thrust of his hips into the air at your words. you lean down until your lips are next to his ear, “If you don't want my mouth I could let you use me in other ways,” he's fully humping the air now, fists made in the sheets. 

“I don't- I've never…” he shakes his head finally opening his eyes. pupils were blown looking for you to understand, “I want to be good for you but I don't know how,” 

“I can show you,” your lips brushing his as you whisper it, “only if you want me to,” 

“I do!” he nods, “I want you, I've wanted you so fucking bad for too long,” 

you kiss him and he could shatter at the seams from finally getting to taste you. Chan has made out with people before, he knows he's a good kisser, what he's worried about is everything else. but with your lips on him, he's a little less worried. breaking the kiss you move to straddle his abdomen, kissing down his jaw as he throws his head back. He can't control his thrusts anymore, searching for friction where you're purposefully not giving him. “patience Channie,” you say between nips at his neck, his whines in response but you shake your head. “I know you're needy but it will feel better with foreplay,” 

he nods as you work down his collarbones, reaching his nipples as you slide down his body. you lick down his chest and abs, circling his navel and following a line down to his waistband. The cold air hits the line you've made down him and Chan moans at the feeling, goosebumps rising over his arms. He wants to touch you, peel your shirt away, and finally see more than just your bare back. almost as if you can read his thoughts you sit up placing your ass on his thighs before pulling off your shirt. nipples pebbling from the air, Chan's hands fisting the sheets so hard his knuckles are bloodless. 

“If you're good next time I'll let you lick me the way I did for you,” Chan whines almost painfully before you lean down moving back until you are face to face with his clothed bulge. already a dark spot on the fabric from his precum. “Let me know if you're about to cum okay?” 

Chan nods head lifting to watch as you lean forward and kiss over where he's straining in his underwear. his hips try to chase your mouth when you pull away and you tisk at him, “Patience Chan I shouldn't have to tell you twice,” 

“I can't help it,” he moans, your fingers hooked into the elastic around his waist pulling the fabric down his legs, his cock heavily slapping against his stomach. every vein prominent, ruddy tip swollen and begging to be kissed. you gather the spit in your mouth before letting it drop down against his length. If you are going to fit it in you're going to have to take the time to stretch yourself out so it won't hurt. For now, you wrap your hand around him, giving him a few shallow pumps, his moans of approval the only sound in the room. you let Chan thrust into your hand when he doesn't like your pace but you completely pull away when he says, “I'm going to cum im-“ he whines so loud at missing his release, your lips on his thigh as you use your hands to hold his hips back from coming up off the mattress. 

“no please, please I want to cum, please,” he begs, trying to rut in the air but you shake your head. 

“You have to wait pretty boy, you can hold out a little more right?” but he doesn't get to answer when you lick up his shaft, tongue swirling around his tip. 

Chan has never been so noisy in his life, he's never wanted, no needed, to cum so bad. when you fully take him into your mouth he sees spots in his vision, the coiling in his pelvis intensifying. he doesn't want to tell you but like you're sucking the words right out of him he whimpers, “cumming im-,” but it's ripped away from him again and he's on the verge of tears. he won't be able to last any longer not like this, when every brush of your fingers on him makes him twitch. he lets go of the death grips he has on the sheets pushing himself up be rolls the two of you over. 

you're shocked as he pins you down, his face pressed into your neck whimpers tickling your skin. “please, can I cum inside you?” his cock is rubbing against your covered center, and he can feel that the fabric is wet with your arousal, knows he must be doing something right when your soft moans come every time he rubs against your clit. 

you nod knowing you won't be able to say no to him, not when you want him this bad. “take my panties off,” Chan listened, not waiting a moment to follow your order. when they are gone he's stopped by the sight of you. laid out for him glistening, you reach down using two of your fingers to make a v pushing open more of yourself so he can see. Chan watches as you drag your fingers through your wetness, and whines as he watches you dip a finger into your entrance.“you listen so well Channie if you keep listening I'll let you taste me,” 

chans weak in the knees at your words, he wants nothing more than to please you, to hear you say nice things to him over and over, to finally let him sink into your warm heat. “please,” it's so quiet you almost miss it. 

“Grab your cock in your hand,” he does as you say, “then lean over me and run the length of you in my wetness kinda like you were doing before okay?” he nods and when he plants his hand next to your head he looks down to watch what he's doing. both of you moaning as he rubs against your clit, he could just stop here, he knows just this will make him cum without a second thought but you won't let him. “drag your tip down until it catches if you miss ill help you, okay?” 

but Chan doesn't need your help, the head of his cock prodding your entrance, his hips jerking knowing he's so close to feeling all of you, “you're doing so good,” you hum brushing your fingers through his hair, “slowly push in I won't be able to take it all unless you go slow,” 

Chan pushes in following your instructions. he's hardly in when he's shaking, you feel so fucking good, warm, and just right. he will never be able to imagine taking you while he's alone again, his hand won't cut it anymore, not after this. 

his moan is guttural as he fully seats himself inside you, your hips meeting his. chans so deep you can swear he's touching your womb, your hands wrap around his shoulders, both of you catching your breath, “you have to move slow, warm me up a little before you can trust harder,” Chan nods but he doesn't know if he will be able to last long enough to make himself go any faster. Your warm walls feel so fucking good he could cum without moving at all, but he slowly pulls out before sinking back in. You're so wet it's easy to find a steady pace. 

“Just like that Channie,” you moan and Chan whines at the praise, he wants to be perfect for you, as perfect as you've been for him and he can't control himself, his hips sinking hitting you deeper than you felt before. 

you moan loudly as he brushes your gummy stop making you see stars, “your hand, use your hand on my clit,” you whimper and when Chan's fingers find the perfect spot he feels you clench around him. he gives a shocked moan not realizing you could feel any better, his orgasm so close he presses his fingers harder against you, your shocked gasp music to his ears. you didn't think you would cum seeing as it was his first time but you're right on the cusp when you hear his pants, “I'm going to cum, please, I need to cum, let me cum in you,” he begs eyes watching where the two of you connect. 

“you've been so good to me,” your words making his stomach flex, balls tightening, and you can feel him twitch inside you, “cum for me Channie,” 

he cries out as he finishes, hot ropes of cum spilling inside you making you follow right after him. The fluttering of your cunt makes him whine sinking in deeper letting his body weight fall on you as he pumps more cum deep inside you. 

never has he cum so hard or this much, never did he think it would feel this amazing. 

Chans is lying on top of you, both of you sweaty and panting. your fingers comb his hair back from his forehead, scratching his scalp until he's humming. you can feel his softening cock inside you, his hips twitching every once in a while. Neither of you moves, only enjoying the feel of each other. “Did you mean what you said?” Chan asks and you scrunch your brows. “what?” 

“about next time? that there would be a next time.” 

you giggle pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Yes if you're good there will be a next time,” but you can feel Chan twitch inside you already growing hard again. 

[beardedjoel]

smother - part i: deliverance

dark!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: starving. lost. desperate. you find a cabin in the woods, and to your dismay, it's occupied. a plan to have a quick bite of food with an intense, intriguing stranger turns into more than you'd bargained for when he makes you realize everything you've been missing out on. 8.6k words chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI! noncon, nonconsensual touching, dubcon - reader eventually enthusiastically consents but the syndrome is stockholming so its dubcon, reader is a virgin, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is 55) manipulation/lying/gaslighting, slow burn and tension building chapter, joel is kind of a creepy menace ngl a/n: i'm so so very excited to share the first chapter of my new series! (if this flops after how much i got hyped for it i will be logging off forever) the themes in this story are dark so if the tags aren’t for you it’s understandable & just keep scrollin on by! this will end up being nasty and smutty, but only after a wee bit of buildup so don't fear. comments and reblogs are always beyond appreciated!

Save me. Please, anyone…

Another wave of desolate, crying desperation tears through you as you trudge along, tripping yet again - maybe over your own two feet, a root, the very ground you walk on, something. You’re much too hazy and burnt out to even care what you stumbled on as you just press on, press on, press on.

A wave of pain rolls through your stomach again as it burns cavernously empty. You move as a ghost, a shell of yourself now, using passing trees as support. Your hands touch the cold wood reluctantly, a painful little hiss through your teeth as your fingers practically cramp up from the cold. You’d lost your gloves somewhere along the way, days ago now, what feels like a lifetime. You need to stop and rest desperately now, your body close to giving out. Your heart hammers in fear, wondering if you’d even be able to get up again.

A cabin comes into view in the distance, tucked nicely in a clearing of trees. You think your eyes are deceiving you, that you’ve finally succumbed to the madness that comes with such hunger and loneliness, your brain conjuring up images to comfort you. You see smoke coming out of a chimney on the roof, and your heart equally swells and drops at the discovery - it’s not a shelter for you alone, no. Not a lucky discovery, somewhere to lay your head tonight that’s dry and warm without disturbance. Someone already lives here, has a home here, and they might not take too kindly to strangers. If there’s anything you’ve learned in the last few weeks of your own personal hell, it’s to tread carefully. Always.

You keep your footsteps light and quiet, trying to approach with some semblance of caution. Your empty stomach is pushing you along, begging for any scrap of food that might be inside, hopefully offered up to you by the kindness of a stranger. Berries and the occasional rabbit or lucky can of food found were not enough to live off of anymore - you could feel the way your body faded away by the day, losing any bit of strength you’d had in the first place.

You pause, hitching your breath and then barely daring to breathe at all when you get close enough to hear a sound - a low, throaty grunting followed by the crack of wood. Your eyes scan the area as you sneak closer and then land upon him. He’s broad and muscled, you can see that much from back here. Messy, dark hair that curls all around his head and down his neck. When his body turns enough that you see his face a little bit more, you notice he looks older and has dark, piercing eyes. They send a shudder through you, even from afar, only making you feel colder out in this frosty afternoon.

You wrap your coat a little tighter and decide to get closer, assess the situation, see if he seems friendly enough to give you something to eat and send you on your merry way. He swings an ax high up in the air and brings it down swiftly onto a large piece of wood, splitting it before tossing the logs into a pile already full of more firewood. You press your lips together, noticing how strong he is, betting there are well built up muscles underneath that flannel shirt of his. That makes him a threat, a big one, you quickly assess. 

You’re too distracted, not watching your step, when a large branch cracks underneath your boot. You wince and squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, holding perfectly still, your breath coming out in quick, staccato exhales.

“H-hey!” you hear a gruff voice, sounding out of breath. You peek your eyes open slowly to see the man looking in your direction and silently curse yourself. “C’mon out!” he yells, and you see him reach to his waist, hands grazing a shining revolver holstered there.

Your stomach pulls into tight knots and you stand frozen for a few moments. Your brain quickly assesses everything, weighing the options. Running away, with no possibility of eating a single thing is one option, but the likelihood this stranger will shoot you seems high no matter what, so you decide to take your chances.

You put your hands in front of you, palms out, and slowly emerge from behind the trees. You walk gingerly along the crisp, frosty grass, crunching under your feet every step of the way. Your anxious breaths come out in little puffs in front of you as the cold air enters and exits your lungs.

The man falters, his fist closing and then opening again, pulling away from the revolver on his hip a bit. He blinks hard, staring at you in this silent showdown. “W-well shit, you’re just a girl…” he finally says quietly to himself, his posture relaxing a little. You stand perfectly still, choked up now that you’re confronted with the idea of speaking to him, such a large, imposing wall of a man, and those eyes, god, those eyes.

“I’m not gonna hurt you if you don’t give me a reason to, now, girl.” His voice is the tiniest bit softer, and you pick up on his Southern drawl, an accent you’ve heard a few times before. “Do ya need help?” He wipes his forehead with the back of his arm, a gleam of sweat having built up from chopping wood and his large chest still heaving. He takes a step closer to you, and you don’t step back, but feel every muscle coil up tightly as your mind screams at you that this was a mistake, a huge fucking mistake. Your feet tingle, toes flexing and getting ready to run, but you can’t make yourself do it, to take that first step.

Instead, you nod. “I- y-yes…” you say quietly. You’ll never understand why you say it, other than the fact that you’re drawn in by him, by his chestnut hair flecked with gray, his patchy beard that he’s currently scratching. By his build that looks so… safe yet dangerous, but you get the feeling that no, he’d never hurt you. You envision those arms wrapping around you, holding you tightly, shielding you from the world and everything you’ve been through. You never thought much about relationships or boys before - just a few simple and innocent crushes, but it hadn’t been on your radar as such a shy kid and teenager. But this… this was what people talked about - attraction. It nearly stole your breath the closer you got to him, threatening to suck you into what felt like an endless void. 

“Alright,” the man replies, trying to match your quieter demeanor. He glances around, eyes narrowed and scanning the woods beyond you. “You with anyone? Or all alone out here?”

You know why he’s asking, you’ve seen what people can do - sending someone innocent and unimposing out to lay a trap, but you don’t lie when you shake your head. “A-alone. I’m alone, swear, sir.”

His jaw seems to tick, noticeable even from the distance you’re at before he answers you. “Okay, then. C’mon a little closer, I won’t bite, okay?” he says, and he’s so convincing that you do believe him, despite your instincts telling you otherwise. The world is cruel and unrelenting, taking away most of the trust you’ve ever had in humanity the second you place it into anything or anyone. 

You move a little closer, small, gentle steps, and he nods encouragingly. 

“Now there ya go. Look at ya…” he marvels with a click of his tongue, shaking his head once you’re just a few feet away from him. 

He takes in your messy hair, slightly matted from wearing a winter hat on and off the last few weeks and sleeping on the ground. Your clothes have seen better days too, your skin smudged with dirt no matter how many water sources you found to try and rinse off a little bit. Even despite all of that, he gazes at you with a curiosity, with that look of interest that you felt like you’d given him without trying to. It’s quiet for another moment, the both of you sizing each other up, until Joel’s look turns a little more pitiful when you shiver as a sudden gust of wind whips past you, your threadbare coat doing little to protect you from the chill in the air here. You can’t be sure if your shuddering has less to do with the wind and more with the way that this man’s eyes are digging into what feels like your very soul.

“We gotta get you inside, okay? You’re shakin’, and you look like you ain’t had a proper meal in… too long…” He continues to eye you up and down, taking in your weak frame. 

You stay silent for another moment, swallowing hard and then shuddering again. “I - I don’t know…” you breathe out. You might have some sudden, fantastical dream that this man is your savior, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be cautious - the mind is a tricky, deceiving thing.

“I ain’t gonna ask again, ain’t gonna beg ya, girl. C’mon,” he says a little more roughly, a hand shooting out quickly and grabbing you by the wrist and tugging. “Just want to get a good meal in you, alright?”

You wince at the grasp on your wrist, the roughness and hardness he’s starting to show you, but you let him pull, starting to move your feet and trail after him. 

“T-thank you…sir,” you murmur quietly, and he swings his head to look back at you, his eyes softening. 

“You’re welcome. Now get inside and get warm. I’ve got a fire goin’.” He lets go of your wrist, trusting you to follow him as his heavy boots clunk up the few steps leading to the front door of his cabin. It’s modest, beautifully constructed, all dark wood around the outside and a small porch. You start to wonder if this man built it himself, or just found it as it is. Your initial impression of him leads you to believe that he does seem like the type to build a whole god damn cabin. He half looks like a lumberjack already in the plaid flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. 

“Found this place ‘bout five years ago,” he says as if he could read your mind while he swings the door open. “Real nice and private, so don’t worry.”

Your eyes narrow slightly at his last comment, but you try to brush it off as you enter inside with him. The warm air hits your body, an immediate balm to your frayed nerves and chilled skin, a slightly smoky smell from the fire hits your nostrils and you immediately hear the crackle and pop of the logs in the little fireplace. The cabin is mainly one big room, a kitchen tucked into the corner right to the left of the door, and the living room beyond that with cozy couches and chairs, even a TV that you doubt is working but find yourself hopeful for some reason. It’s been a long time since you were able to watch a movie, flashing back to childhood memories when you’d lived in a more stable, thriving community that had power. 

Stairs beyond that lead to what you assume are bedrooms or a bathroom, and your eyes curiously take in all the little details and decor - the man’s jackets hanging along the wall near the entrance, his rifle propped next to the door and several different pairs of worn boots. 

You realize you’re just standing right near the doorway, silently looking around in a daze while your new acquaintance has been trying to get your attention. 

“Hey, girl, I’m talkin’ t’ya…” his voice says, the noise fading back into your consciousness.

You shake your head. “S-sorry,” you say quietly, a shy little squeak. “I was just -“

“S’alright. I got some stew goin’, that okay? I mean y’don’t have much of a choice, but I’ll ask anyhow,” he says with a wry chuckle. You simply nod in response. 

“Now go on, put your things down and sit ‘n get comfortable,” he waves towards the general direction of the kitchen table and the couch before turning back to the stove to stir the pot simmering there. You stand, feeling frozen still, panic threatening to climb up through your insides and completely take over. You still don’t feel safe, despite this man offering to warm you and feed you. How could you, you think, when you’ve been running for several weeks, trying to get away from the carnage that became your life. 

He eyes you, unmoving and frightened looking and sighs heavily. “I said,” he says, tension thickening in the air around you, “Sit.”

You clear your throat, desert dry and scratchy, and set your backpack by the door, slowly creeping over to the couch, not wanting to make this mystery man any angrier. You settle yourself down and the cushions feel like heaven, your legs and body achy from the lack of comfort you’ve had for weeks. You try not to show just how good it feels to settle into the soft, plush fabric, letting the cushions mold to your body.

“Good,” Joel coos as he glances at you from the stove. “Now that we’ve got you settled in, you got a name?”

You weakly tell him your name and he shows you the first little smile you’ve seen from him, nodding. “Gotcha. I’m Joel, okay?”

“O-okay.” You push the words out while you watch him stir the pot on the stove. You sit in silence for a few moments, thankful for the time to just catch your breath and think. Just one bowl of stew, and you’ll be out of here. You’ll ask if there’s a community nearby, somewhere that could take you in, then grab that information and run, not bother this man any more than you need to.

Joel walks over, handing you a cup of water that you shamelessly start to gulp down before he goes back and ladles some of the delicious smelling stew into a bowl. The second the scent hits you, your stomach rumbles loudly. Joel cracks a smile as he hears it and continues ladling, a brow quirked. 

“Hungry, huh?” he asks, walking the steaming bowl over to you with a spoon. You gingerly take it from his hands, being careful not to brush your still chilled fingers against his. You swear his eyes flash at you when he notices how avoidant you’re being, but he turns and walks back to the stove, getting himself a bowl as well. Joel settles down into a chair across from the couch where you sit with a weathered groan, just watching you for a few quiet moments. It does everything but put you at ease, your stomach twisting a little. You blow on a spoonful of stew before taking a bite, your mouth an explosion as it waters and takes in the delicious, rich, food. 

“Mmm,” you whine out, unable to help it. Your body wants to lunge forward, lap the stew up until every single drop is in your starved body and you can finally feel a sense of fullness again. You quickly take another spoonful, much too hot, and wince a little as it hits your tongue. 

“Slow on down, girl,” Joel says. “Let’s talk a little and it’ll slow down your eating.”

You just stare, noticing your body is trembling a little bit, and has been since you met Joel outside. You try to take a deep breath to settle your nerves, your legs so tensely pressed together that it's starting to hurt.

“You feelin’ afraid of me, that it?” he asks you, looking a little too self satisfied at the observation as he crosses his arms and leans towards you. His biceps bulge and stretch with the motion and you can’t help but find your eyes drawn to them, the way they pull at the soft flannel of his shirt. You feel your face heat up all the way to your ears and you blink hard, averting your eyes. 

“I- I mean… I don’t know you…” you mutter, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

“I know,” he says, sounding more sympathetic. “Done some bad things in my time, so hell, maybe you should be scared of me. I ain’t a nice guy. But I won’t hurt someone like you, promise ya that.” His words are enough of a reason for you to hightail it out of here the first second you can, but why do you believe them? Why do you believe him?

“How d-do you know I’m not bad too? That I don’t deserve it?” His eyes narrow and his lip twitches into a smirk before he lets out a mocking little chuckle in your direction.

“Oh sweetheart, a man jus’ knows these things. You never hurt even a fly, now have you?” That smirk stays plastered on Joel’s face as he asks and it frustrates you how little of a threat he sees in you, how little fight you have left to give. Yet you can’t find yourself blaming him, you think. If you were facing yourself in his position you’re sure you’d look like as much of a feeble joke as you feel.

You frown, still unable to look him in the eyes for longer than a few seconds, and shake your head. “No… just for hunting…” you admit.

“Alright then. Y’don’t need to act tough in front of me, girl, got it?” Joel concludes, going back to eating his stew.

“Got it,” you respond quietly, letting yourself sink further into the couch as you feel your muscles slowly relaxing.

“Now tell me... what’s this all about? What’s a little young thing like you doin’ out here by herself?”

You bite your lip and sip slowly on another spoonful of stew. “I’m… uh…” you stutter nervously. 

“Spit it out now, there’s nothin’ to be afraid of here, hm?” Joel tries reassuring you, but his words keep coming out so gruffly, doing little to make you feel much better. 

You inhale a deep breath. “Okay…” You swallow. “I was in a… community. I lived there a long time. T-they’re all gone now, I think. We got completely overrun and so I ran.” You sniffle as your nose starts to run from the warmth of the house opposing the cold you’d gotten accustomed to. 

Joel leans forward a bit in his chair, taking a hearty bite of stew, mulling your words over. “Overrun how?” he asks simply, glancing at you, studying your movements, your body language, everything. 

“U-uh, hunters, raiders, whatever they are. Bad.. b-bad people…” You look down at your bowl, not wanting to meet the intensity of his gaze, afraid to fall into his strange, hard warmth. 

“Hm… awful fuckers, ain’t they,” he says, scratching a hand down his beard. “You got away, then?”

You nod and bite inside of your lip, taking another spoonful of stew to keep yourself occupied. “Y-yeah. I ran and ran… just kept… going. They took everything, took over all of our homes…”

Joel sighs, his eyes finally going a little softer. “‘M sorry to hear that, darlin’. You know if anyone is still alive?”

You shrug. “No…”

“Your family? They with ya at this community?”

“Oh.” You shake your head. “No. They… all, uh, passed a long time ago.” Why the hell are you being so open with this stranger? You don’t owe him your story, your secrets, any of it. But you sense the urge to share it, anyhow. Maybe you’re just that desperate for human connection right now. 

“Mm, sorry to hear it again. We all know that feelin’ in a world like this,” he replies thoughtfully. Your eyes widen a bit at the softness he’s showing you right now and you give him a tight lipped smile to show your own sympathy for his losses. 

“You feel up for tellin’ me a little more about the attack? S’okay if it’s too much,” Joel adds on, still studying you with an odd gaze, almost like he’s drinking you in, quenching some thirst he had. His hand twitches, almost as if to reach out to you, but he’s much too far from where he sits right now. 

“I’m not sure if t-there’s much to tell…” you start, but then you find yourself spilling out more details, feeling the freeing sensation of unloading your burdens onto someone else. You tell Joel your community was small but well taken care of, plenty of supplies and food, in an abundant time in its history the last few months. One evening everything changed, when an armed group of mostly men came in, a few women and children in tow, looking absolutely miserable, and they aimed their guns in the air and shot off a few rounds to get everyone’s attention. People came flooding out of their homes, trying to run, only to be tackled or shot down, forced to give up our food and belongings. You tried to hide for as long as you could before slipping out of the home you shared with an older couple who had been taking care of you since you were a teenager, Harry and Josephine. They’d urged you to run, run, run, so you did. Then came your lost days, where you had no clue where you were, when you’d find your next semblance of humanity. Just trying to head west, further and further from the bitter memories you’d now have to leave behind. Barren towns and wilderness passed you over the days, hardly seeing another soul as you hid from infected, spending your nights crying yourself to sleep when you had the energy. 

And now… here you were, sitting on Joel’s couch and eating stew. Unsure of what the hell you’d do next or where you had to go. You had been an orphan for a long time, but this felt deeper, like you were an orphan to the entire world, almost, like you had nothing to even call your own now. 

Joel sits patiently, watching you stumble on words as you tell your story to him, trying not to get too choked up as all the emotions resurface. How empty things had been, how desolate the landscapes to match your faintly beating heart.

He’s leaned fully forward now in his seat, stew somewhat forgotten in his lap as you finish your recounting of the last few weeks. He breathes in and out, a large, heavy sigh that fills the room. It’s still now, fully quiet for a moment. 

“You’re a strong girl for goin’ through all of that, you know that?” he says finally, eyes softer than you’ve seen them yet. 

You just look down, returning to your stew, taking a few bites now that it’s at the perfect temperature. You’ve stopped shaking now, your body warmed up and starting to recognize that you’re getting full. You can’t eat much, your stomach unable to handle more just yet, so you push the stew away, setting it on the coffee table in front of you.

“Yeah…” you say, not really believing it as you glance out the window to watch the late afternoon sun, glaring off the ground outside, light filtering through the trees. 

“You got somewhere to go? After you’re fed and looked over, of course,” Joel asks, his eyebrow shooting up.

You consider lying, just to avoid what you’re afraid he’ll ask you. What you’re afraid you’ll say yes to. You still end up shaking your head silently, clearing your throat. You feel a sting of tears behind your eyes, your whole body going hot with the need to cry, but a deep desire to not show that weakness to him holds you back. You sniffle and blink, studying the knots in the old wood floors.

“Hey,” Joel says, trying to get your attention, to make you show him your vulnerability. “Look at me, c’mon now.” You hear him shift in his seat, a small movement born of irritation as you refuse to do as he says.

You sniffle again and clear your throat, a shake of your head making your hair fall forward, covering and hiding you further. 

“I said look at me.” That stern tone of his is back, sending a shudder through you and fear rippling deep inside your chest. You flick your red rimmed, shining eyes up to his, meeting the dark brown stare, lines permanently etched in between his eyes from all his years of worry.

“Atta girl,” he coos, completely pleasant now. “I got you, okay? You can stay, if ya need. I got food, a home, a warm bed for ya. If you have nowhere else.”

One more blink sends the tears falling down your cheeks, fat and overdue as they slide down your dirty skin, leaving tracks. You sniffle and nod, suddenly feeling a rush of gratitude towards Joel. He may be a stranger, but he fed you, got you warm, and is offering just about the kindest thing he can right now - an invasion on his space, his personal sanctuary, all for a girl he hardly even knows. 

“Y-you’d really do that?” you ask, a little incredulously, like this is a dream you’re about to wake up from any time now. 

He nods, a half smile pulling at the corner of his lips. Satisfaction plastered there now that he’s swayed you in his direction. “I would. Now I don’t wanna hear another word about it. You need to rest, you’ve been through a lot.”

“T-thank you. B-but-”

“Not. Another. Word,” he practically hisses, flashing his eyes angrily before it fizzles out quickly. You can see him practically having to reign in his impulsiveness in the moment. “There ain’t anywhere else to go that’ll keep you as safe as here, I’m tellin’ you that now. You’d be fuckin’ lost out there.” He sits back with his arms crossed now, and you’re worried that you’ve truly upset him now, that unsettling look in his eye glinting again. He wants you to stay… nearly seems to need it. It scares you, yet you feel a tug, a pull, some form of intrigue wanting you to explore that need, understand just what he could see in you.

“I’m s-sorry… I just - you’ve already done a lot for me, and I’d hate to, well, impose, or something,” you say, trying to appease him. It’s mostly true, anyhow, that you do hate to take Joel’s food and time away from him. 

He stands up and silently walks the few steps over to the couch, sitting down next to you, turning himself towards you. It feels like every muscle in your body tenses at his proximity - it makes him seem even bigger the way he takes up his cushion on the couch, body sinking in deeply, his wide shoulders practically a shield to you right now to everything behind him. Something about seeing him up this close is sending you reeling, able to study the lines in his face, his strong, wiry beard streaked with a few gray spots. You flick your eyes over his face, hoping to not be too obvious, but needing to drink him in, learn his features.

“I’m gonna have you listen to me right now, okay? Make sure you’re listenin’ real good, sweetheart.” He pauses for a moment to catch your eye, reaching a hand towards you but resting it right next to your thigh on the couch. “I’m offerin’ somethin’ mighty nice to you, ain’t I? You were ‘bout to die out there, if I’m honest. Much longer and you’d be a goner, I think. Don’t you?”

He’s waiting for a real answer from you, you realize, so you nod, eyes practically unblinking as you hang on his words, a hot coil burning in your stomach as you feel uneasiness eat at you.

“Right.” He sighs quietly. “I’m not tryin’ to be mean, sweetheart. In fact, I care a lot, that’s why I’m tellin’ the truth to ya like this. You ain’t built to be on your own, can see that clear as day. So I’ll have ya stay here and get fed and get your bearings. And I don’t want to hear anymore about it.” 

Of all the things Joel has just said to you, the thing that is stuck in your mind as you turn it over, is the way he’d said he cares. He cares about you. Would that be such a bad thing to be cared for, even if just for a little bit?

You give him a small dip of your head, a shaky smile coming to your lips. “Thank you. I’m uh, grateful.” You’re not sure what else to say, feeling like you’re signing yourself away to something you don’t feel sure about. 

“Ah look at that - a smile,” he says, clearly feeling much more light hearted now that you’ve agreed to accept his help. 

You sit back a little, your muscles finally losing some of their tension and start to eye Joel a little more curiously. “S-so you just live here all by yourself?” you ask, wishing you weren’t still such a stuttering mess. The fact was, this man made you nervous, in a way that you weren’t used to. He scared you, but in a way that it drew you in, a magnetic pull you couldn’t quite explain yet. Something in him commanded respect, reverence, almost, without trying. It was mesmerizing to witness, completely scrambling your mind if you started to think on it too hard. 

“Mhm,” Joel nods languidly, finishing off his stew and then sitting back with a satisfied sigh. He eyes your bowl that’s only half empty and then flicks them back to your face. “Ain’t gonna finish?” he asks, sounding a little irritated before his face softens. “Probably can’t fit much in your little belly right now, huh? Shrunk right up when you didn’t eat much these last few weeks.”

You nod. “I-it was good, I just… I couldn’t finish. It started to hurt…”

His eyes flash with concern. “We’ll take it slow, then,” he says, a little smile creeping onto his face.

You had noticed his avoidance to say much more about himself, so you decide to try your luck and press him again. You clear your throat, trying to turn towards him a little more as well. “You live alone. Don’t you… do you ever talk to other people?”

Joel chuckles, almost condescendingly. “‘Course I do. Town not too far from here - Jackson. I go once and a while to stock up, trade ‘em for some stuff and they’re mighty hospitable to me.”

You nod, trying not to let his snide laugh and tone get to you too much, blinking away the sensitive little tears that threaten to fall again. Joel cocks his head suddenly, seeming to notice. “T-that sounds pretty nice,” you choke out quickly.

“Sorry if I upset ya. Guess you’re right, don’t get enough practice talkin’ to people,” he says a little lighter now, smiling softly again. Joel’s version of a smile seems to only be a soft upturn of his lips, not friendly by nature. It puts you at ease and unease at the same time, that smile of his, but you’d rather see that than the scowl he was sporting at you earlier today. He pats your thigh a few times, showing his apology, and you watch his large hands move on you, noticing they’re scratched and rough. A man’s hands.

“W-wait… Jackson… this town. It’s close by?” you ask, glancing back up at him, the wheels in your head starting to turn. 

Joel’s face falls in an almost dramatic fashion, the lines between his eyes and around his cheeks getting deeper. “Why d’ya ask?” he says, his tone short and frayed sounding, leaning forward again, practically glaring at you from under his eyebrows.

Your own face falls, jaw slack for a moment before it tightens back up. “I just… I want to get out of your hair as quickly as possible, I-I don’t want to be a bother. Could find a new community there, or something…” You feel quiet as a mouse, unsure of how to assert yourself in front of Joel - it feels like there isn’t space for it when you share a room with him.

Joel’s expression becomes more stern. “Didn’t I already tell you, girl, that I’d take care of everythin’?” he spits out, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. You’re visibility tense now, your hands pressing into the cushions of the couch, ready to get up at any moment and bolt. “Y’don’t want to go to a place like that, so big, you’d be lost there, darlin’. Nobody to take care of you…”

He sits back a little, hands falling into his lap and an eyebrow cocked at you. “‘Sides,” he says, glancing out the window for a moment before studying you again. “Too far to go on your own. Can’t have you gettin’ lost in these woods again… look what happened last time, yeah?”

Maybe he’s right. You barely survived these last few weeks without completely losing your mind, and then your life, as he’s been so apt to tell you several times now. Joel… he saved you, and is offering you a place to stay, so the least you could do is be grateful for now. You could always convince him tomorrow, after you’ve had time to think and reset, to take you there, show you the way, and you can see for yourself if it’s a good fit for you or not.

“Y-yeah…” you stutter out, nodding. The look he shoots you has you choking out the next word before you can even think about it. “Yes,” you say more definitively.

“It’s settled then,” he says matter-of-factly, breathing in deeply, his burly chest rising, and then letting it out in a long, slow breath. “You probably wanna get some rest, yeah? I can set up the bed for ya.” Joel says, standing up and grabbing your bowl, taking it to the kitchen along with his empty one. 

“Do y-“ you start, standing up off the couch. 

“Yeah, I got two bedrooms, don’t worry.” His smile grows, liking that he found you predictable enough to know what you were about to ask. Your shoulders sag a little in relief and you give Joel more of a proper smile now, nodding your thanks.

“That would be great, then, yeah. And if it’s not too much…” you voice trails off and you stare at the ground, focusing your eyes on the pattern of the well worn rug underneath your feet. “Maybe a shower, bath, whatever you’ve got.”

Joel turns to face you and then walks back into the living area. He has a calm, serene expression, slightly lit up. “I’ll do ya one better. Get you some clean clothes to wear after that shower, too.”

Nothing in the entire world sounds better than what he’s offering right now.

You hiss loudly as the hot, steaming water hits your leg when you step in. Within moments, you’re basking under it, watching the dirt and dried blood from your various scrapes and scratches swirl down the drain for what feels like ages, finally seeing the water run clear as you lather up the threadbare washcloth Joel had left out for you and scrub yourself down. Every nook, every cranny, your scalp, face, everywhere you could get three times over. You can’t remember the last time you’d felt so clean, even when you’d lived back with your community. You hum happily for a few moments, letting the water soothe you for just a while longer. You hoped Joel could forgive you for taking a little bit of extra hot water today given the circumstances.

Joel hears the water running from downstairs, his fists balling up and relaxing over and over as he sits on his favorite chair, his gaze facing the stairs leading to the spare bedroom and attached bathroom. He feels tense, rolling his neck, continuing to pump his fists open and closed. A feeling in the back of his neck, traveling down his spine and legs that he couldn’t ignore - an urge. He stands up an instant later, not bothering with his well-ignored conscience, and walks upstairs and through the bedroom door with careful steps as he still has on his boots. He presses a hand onto the brass doorknob, turning it slowly, ever so slowly, pushing the door open just an inch, just… enough.

His eyes fall on the shower curtain, a white cloth that perfectly shows your silhouette through it. The valleys and curves of your body move around, arms scrubbing yourself. Joel can smell the evergreen scented soap drifting through the steamy, thick air, watching your body move fluidly as you start to hum quietly to yourself and rinse off.

He wishes he could lie to himself, deny that he felt the blood rush straight to his cock at this little show he was watching. So content, so sweet, so vulnerable right now. Need consumes his every cell - the need to show you just how good you could have it here, to take every bit of you for himself. He grins, a hungry little twitch of his mouth, moving to shut the door when a floorboard creaks under his heavy boot, and he freezes, shuffling out of the way quickly.

You’re humming quietly when you hear it, just a distant sound, but enough to catch your ear. A creak of a floorboard, something you figure isn’t unusual for an old cabin like this, but you feel a shiver run down your spine and rush to turn the water off. You throw the curtain open, water dripping down into your eyes. You quickly rub your fingers over them and glance around the spacious bathroom to find… nothing. You sigh, shaking your head, nearly laughing at the relief you feel. You’re just being paranoid, you chastise yourself as you grab the towel off the hook, squeezing the extra water out of your hair and wrapping it around yourself, snuggling into the simple comfort of a fluffy towel as you dry yourself off. 

Your fingers freeze, running cold when you reach the door, noticing a few inches of space that has the door cracked open. You swore up and down that you’d shut the door behind you, giving you that extra layer of privacy in a stranger's home. It wasn’t possible that… no, you think quickly, shaking your head again. You have to stop being so damn paranoid - your brain is just in survival mode still, looking for threats that aren’t there. 

You step into the bedroom, surveying the heavy wood furniture - an extremely cozy, country feel to the room with large logs comprising the bed frame and a patchwork quilt draped over the top. You peer around, feeling somewhat squirmy at the realization you don’t have any clothing. Joel seemingly came in and took your dirty clothes while you were in the shower, failing to leave you anything clean. It made you feel that strange swirl deep in your stomach again, the one you kept brushing off.

This is a kind man. A kind man, got it? Positive thinking.

You decide to pull it together and head out and down the stairs to the living room. You feel your cheeks heat up, a hot heat creeping all over your body as you feel so exposed, standing in your tiny towel as you descend the stairs. Joel’s eyes follow you down, watching your glowing skin, so fresh and clean, hair dripping errantly, leaving water droplets on the floor in your wake. You see a flash of something a little cloudy and hungry in his gaze before it disappears just as quickly as he showed it. 

He isn’t saying a word, isn’t offering anything, so you swallow down your discomfort and clear your throat a little. “Er… I noticed there weren’t any… clothes… for me…”

Joel sits up a little straighter, putting down the book he’s been looking at. He offers you a smile devoid of much emotion and stands up, his eyes locking on your hips for a few extra seconds. “Shucks, sorry about that, sweetheart. Let’s get you something right now. Got your old clothes ready to be done next time I do the washin’.”

You nod, fighting the urge to chuckle nervously as he walks over and passes you, his arm brushing your damp, bare one before he heads up the stairs. You’re grateful you get to trail him, afraid of just how skimpy this towel is if he’d have insisted on following behind you. You follow him into the other bedroom, his bedroom, and it’s a little more decorated, some books and little wooden carvings on the surfaces, dirty laundry scattered throughout. He opens up a drawer and tugs out a tee shirt, handing it to you, then a pair of gray sweatpants and warm, thick socks. 

“These should fit alright for ya, honey. We’ll get you some more proper fittin’ stuff soon, just gotta have a look around this place. This’ll be nice and warm for ya f’now.” He seems more chipper now, clearly much more talkative than before, and you suppose you don’t mind the change too much. It’s only proving that your paranoia was completely unfounded, just a symptom of your current circumstances. You typically find yourself a pretty trusting person, enough to have gotten you in trouble before, but the events of the last few weeks have broken that for you, leaving you feeling like a shell of who you once were. 

You snap back to reality and take the clothing in your arms, nodding in gratitude. “Thank you. I’ll go, um, change.”

Before you turn, Joel’s voice booms through the air again. “Need anythin’ else to eat? Anythin’ I can get you?” He almost sounds hopeful, like he wants you to need something from him. His eyes linger on your body, leaving you feeling just as naked as if you didn’t have the towel over you at all. 

You shake your head nervously. “Er, if it’s alright with you, I think I just want to rest… A full night’s sleep in a bed sounds like heaven right now.” 

“Let’s get you on off to heaven, then.” He grins, letting you leave the room before trailing after you, waiting outside your door while you change into your clothes. You discover some women’s underwear in the drawers inside of your bedroom, gratefully putting on a clean pair before throwing on everything Joel gave you. It’s comfortable and dry, so you won’t complain about the fit or the style - you’d still be in your dirty, worn down clothes if it weren’t for him. 

You creak the door open to find Joel and thank him again for hosting you, only to see him waiting right outside in the hall. You nearly jump, your face completely giving away your tense surprise.

“Jus’ wanted to make sure you got to bed alright,” he says gently, explaining himself. 

“Oh…” You bite your lip. “I, uh, I think I’m all set. Thank you again, Joel, really, for everything.”

His smile brightens as much as you’ve seen it and his eyes look much kinder as he nods, a dip of his head. His hand reaches forward and takes yours through the frame of the door and squeezes it. You freeze at the sudden touch, his hand so warm and rough, calloused fingertips grazing over the softer skin of your hands. It sends your entire body into a fuzzy flash of heat for just a moment before it dissipates. He squeezes once more, thumb swiping gently over the back of your hand before he releases it. Your lips sit parted in shock, eyes a little wider and hand starting to tremble a little. 

“Anytime,” Joel replies simply, his face falling before he turns to walk away, leaving you standing breathless for several moments before clicking the bedroom door shut behind you. 

You jolt out of your sleep, a gasp of breath catching in your throat and dying out as you go to yell, finding your mouth tightly clasped by a large, warm palm pressing in.

“Shh, shh,” the voice comes, right near your right ear. You shudder involuntarily from the hot breath fanning on such a sensitive spot  and try to yell again, letting it die out as a whimper against the skin pressing on your mouth.

“Shh, it’s alright. I got you,” Joel coos, his voice coming out hoarse. “No yellin’.”

You squirm helplessly against his hold, realizing another arm is draped across your abdomen, holding you in place. Your body exhausts quickly, still half asleep as you feel your struggle die out. Joel’s hand across your mouth loosens slowly, relieving the pressure.

“You were havin’ a nightmare, darlin’. Shh… c’mon now…” His hand that had been against your lips ghosts up to your head, landing in gentle strokes against your hair. You blink a few times, heavy breaths through your nostrils now as you try to steady your mind and body. Your chest struggles against his heavy arm as it heaves, your body fully taut and mind trying to play catch up.

“W-what…” you murmur groggily, laying stiffly as Joel holds your waist, fingers brushing against your curves, pressing you close as his other hand still works tender strokes along your hair.

“Oh, sweetheart, glad I heard you, hm?” he practically whispers, his face nuzzling close to the skin right under your ear. You feel the tickle of his breath and facial fair, prickly and rough against such delicate skin. You squirm gently, trying to signal that everything is too tight, too much, too… confusing. Joel is lost in his own world, absorbed in the softness of the places he begins to touch, hand grazing from your waist to your bare arms, fingertips exploring hungrily under the guise of being caring. 

All he’d needed, alone and laying awake tonight, his body burning and resolve thin, was a simple touch. A chance to show you all that you needed, all he could provide for you. Only to help you, to take care of someone who couldn’t care for herself. You’d proved that much to him - you needed his guidance, his protection, his experience.

“What’re you…”

“Jus’ comforting you, darlin’. C’mon now,” he whispers, never once pulling back or stopping the exploring he’s doing with his hands. 

He runs through his list of reasons to convince himself why everything he’s doing is perfectly necessary before losing sight of all of it entirely when he strikes that sliver of bare skin where your tee shirt has hiked up a bit off your waist, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. His hand travels a bit higher, pushing the shirt up and grazing famished fingers across your ribcage and stomach. A small groan ripples across his chest, the vibration felt by where your body meets his. He surprises you next by tugging your shirt back down, covering the bare skin before returning his hand to your hip, pulling you closer. He’s a wall of pure mass, muscle underneath his soft belly and chest, a man who’s strong but still showing a bit of his age. You nearly whimper and shake, feeling a sickly heat coursing through your veins now.

“Mmm…” he mumbles in your ear, your own voice caught in a trap of fear lodged right in your throat. Equally afraid of the way you don’t know how this night is about to end and that you’re not sure you mind where it’s going. You’ve never understood men or their intentions, and never had anyone bother to teach you, no worked up teenage boys offer to show you when you were at that age. No, you were left to guess, giggled at by other girls when you couldn’t pick up on their meanings as they discussed their own secret rendezvous. This had to be everything they talked about, didn’t it? The way you could feel heat and energy practically pulsating off of Joel’s body, his noises anything but natural sounding as he hummed little groans in your ear.

“Y’just needed someone, sweetheart. Y’need someone to take care of you, don’t you?” he finally says, fingers still running their way across your hair, nails scratching against your scalp. You whimper quietly at the feel of it, how damn good it all feels. You don’t move, don’t speak as he goes on.

“Need a man like me, darlin’, y’do. I can see it - need me to take care of everything…” He mumbles similar sentiments repeatedly in your ear before bringing his lips right to your neck, just letting them graze, the wet but chapped skin of his lips pressing in gently on your pulse point. You try not to gasp, the feeling as pleasing as it is terrifying, finding yourself gripping the sheet tighter to try not to give yourself away, give him any kind of response. 

“Don’t you, honey? Need me to take care of you?” He sounds a little more desperate now, needy for the answer he’s searching for from you.

He’s broken you down to the point you feel tears stinging at your eyes, the long awaited emotional release you’ve needed sitting right there on the precipice, a small crack waiting to fully rupture. You can’t be sure if you nod, just imperceptibly, you think, but Joel’s body language relaxes against you as he leans his entire chest and torso into you even more, giving you a squeeze. You know then that he got his answer, just what he was looking for. You let the tears slip out, rolling down your cheeks, onto the pillow on one side, likely falling right onto Joel’s face or in his hair on the other. He seems to barely notice, just swiping them quickly off your cheeks before resuming his position wrapping himself tightly around you.

“Good, sweetheart… good girl, I got you…” 

You hear his breathing start to even out shortly after, steady rise and fall of his chest against your body, and you realize he’s dozed off. Like he got what he wanted and decided he could rest now. Your entire body relaxes, a careful breath whooshing out that you hadn’t even been aware you were holding in. His hand is still tangled in your hair, other one possessively on your hip, giving you absolutely no room to move. You’re not sure you want to anymore, anyways, never having had such strength covering you, cloaking you from all of the dark, sinister things that the nighttime holds for you.

If you’re going insane, feeling safe with this man who forced his way around your body tonight, then so be it. Why shouldn’t you let yourself feel safe for once? Let yourself feel less of that burden, turn it over to Joel? Your own turning wheel of thoughts starts to scare you, the little voice in the back of your head telling you what you already know and have been trying to ignore. The one little thing that you immediately put your finger on but were too scared afterwards to lift it back up and observe it closer.

You weren’t having a nightmare, no, not at all. You knew when you woke from one, as sure as the god damned sky was blue and the grass was green. It wasn’t a foreign concept to you by any means after what you’d been through in your life. And tonight… tonight hadn’t been one of those nights. 

dividers by @/saradika!

thank you @jupiter-soups and @huffle-punk for always beta-ing my shit and talking inspo with me. love you to the moon and back <3

[prettyboytsum]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ first night back I iwaizumi hajime cw: afab! reader, dirty talk, oral (receiving) disclaimer: all characters are aged up! mdni! wc: 521

the first night iwaizumi was back in japan for good was surprising, to say the least. it was one of the few times where he didn’t have to cram a year’s worth of dates in two weeks or soak in your presence because he wouldn’t be able to see you for the next couple of months.

the plan was for him to stay over in your new tokyo apartment for a couple of weeks. he claimed that it would be a closer drive and it’d give him time to figure out when he wanted to go back to the prefecture. the added bonus of seeing you every day, even if only for a short period, was enticing enough for someone who spent the majority of the last four years calling the love of his life. so, as any loving partner would, you had assumed that he’d be tired from his roughly ten-hour flight from california to japan based on all his planning. the sheets were just changed, his favorite scented candles were lit and you made sure to cook up a feast for when he arrived home. you went above and beyond for his trip back. one thing you didn’t account for was that he missed you—in more ways than one. ”fucking missed this pussy,” iwaizumi groans to himself before he buries his face between your thighs. he eats you out like a starved man, your clothes strewn on the kitchen floor the moment he saw you. ”haji,” you whine, short pants escaping your soft lips as you gripped his hair. for all the things you had prepared for, you didn’t expect him to be needy as soon as he landed. ”nobody even came close to how gorgeous you are, baby,” iwaizumi says, pulling you closer to his lips as you grip the island counter. “can’t believe i was away from you for this long—god, i’m gonna fuck you every night.” ”haji,” you moan louder, throwing your head back in pleasure as he fucks you with his tongue. your body gets warmer—you’ve never seen your boyfriend this desperate and you’d be a liar if you said it wasn’t turning you on. ”yeah?” he whispers, planting quick kisses on your thighs before looking up at you. “bet you missed this dick, huh? fingers just weren’t big enough for your pretty cunt.” you nod, biting your lip as you take a proper look at him. his eyes were blown with lust, his voice husky with need and want—a tone that you haven’t heard from him in far too long. you felt yourself get wetter at the sight, squeezing your thighs together. a movement that doesn’t go unnoticed by him. iwaizumi knows that he looks good, he’s tan from the seaside sun, he’s in the best shape of his life—and there’s nothing more dangerous than a man who knows how attractive he is. ”’s okay, princess,” he replies, giving you a boyish smile that only makes your heart stutter and knees buckle. “gonna make you feel so good that you’ll feel me inside of you for days, alright? jus’ let me spoil my girl.”

✩ author's note: me when i cut it off right before they get down and dirty </3 I SWEAR A FULL FLEDGE TOE CURLING SMUT IS IN THE WORKS ... in the meantime, enjoy a (potentially) part 1 drabble on pussy starved iwa! ⓒ prettyboytsum 2024. all works are posted under this account on tumblr.com and are protected by copyright laws. do not plagiarise these works on any other platform or account.

[sommerbueckers]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬¹

___________________________________________________________

PAIGE WAS SITTING patiently in the living room of her hotel as she waited for KK and Ice to get ready. Their plane to New York City had landed last night and they had yet to stock up with snacks for the week. Ice was only going to ensure that Paige and KK bought something other than junk, she knew how slow they'd in practice after living off nothing but Tollhouse cookies and Pepsi for seven days.

"Y'all ready?" the blonde asked, shutting off her phone and slipping it into the pockets of her shorts.

"Been that, jus' waiting for Ice slow ass," KK responded, shooting the taller girl a side eye.

"Okay," Ice chimed in, "I don't wanna go either, everybody else is making me."

"Everybody except the two other people going," KK scrunched her nose up, playfully judging her.

Ice held her hand up in front of KK, moving to grab the keys off of the counter. Paige followed suit as they headed out the door and toward the elevator. She scrolled idly on her phone until a picture of the New York Liberty team popped up, triggering a question in her mind.

"Yo what time does the game start tomorrow?" she furrowed her eyebrows, looking between her two friends.

KK shrugged while Ice pulled out her phone.

"Seven."

"So are we eating before or after? 'Cus everything goin' be closed if we try to go after," KK said.

Snorting, the blonde turned to her, "Is food the only thing you think about?"

KK glared at her, not bothering to respond.

"Not to insert myself, but this grocery trip was literally your idea Paige," Ice said.

"So we was supposed to starve all week?" Paige asked, raising an eyebrow, and when neither of them responded she continued, "That's what I thought."

___________________________________________________________

"--No i'm telling you, we're gonna need more than one family bag of Doritos."

KK stared blankly up at Paige, the single bag of chips being crushed in her grip.

"You don't think this bag will last?" she frowned.

"Dude," Paige said, "there's seven of us here, no the bag isn't gonna last KK." Paige took it upon herself to grab a couple more bags off the shelf before tossing them into the cart.

"We need milk, and probably some break-away cookies, breakfast stuff too," Ice mentioned as she looked up from her phone.

"I can get those," Paige offered.

"I certainly wasn't getting 'em," Ice frowned with a laugh.

Paige, mocking the girl's laughter, set off toward the dairy aisle in search of the items Ice had named. She saw the milk first, pausing while she debated on whether to get the full cart or the half cart. They'd be here for a week, and if she got three half cartons then they could distribute them amongst the rooms. A full carton would have to be shared...That would be a lot of back and forth.

As she began to grab the cartons off the shelf, a soft voice called out to her from a few feet away. When she turned, her eyes landed on the one person from high school she hadn't forgotten about after graduation -- that hadn't been on the basketball team of course.

Myla Mintz.

Paige remembered her like it was yesterday; the curve of the dimples in her cheeks, the faint smile lines around her mouth, the deep brown of her doe eyes as she took in her surroundings. It was almost as if no time had passed, and if it hadn't been for her outfit showing off the way her body had developed, Paige would've been convinced that none did.

"Myla," she smiled, surprise written on her face.

"Oh my gosh it's been so long, how are you?" Myla asked, the same amount of surprise plastered across her beautiful face as well.

"I -- I'm great, how're you?"

Myla laughed, it was familiar to Paige, yet so foreign at the same time.

"I'm doing really good," she nodded.

"That's good, yeah. Damn, it's been four years," Paige scoffed in disbelief, taking a step closer to the girl, the milk cartons sitting forgotten in their original place.

Myla mirrored her actions, the pair now close enough that only they could hear their conversation.

"I know right! I mean it definitely doesn't feel like it, feels like yesterday we were just sitting in Physics talking about--" she struggled to find the words, a blush creeping onto her face from the embarrassment of not being able to recall any of their conversations. "Talking about whatever."

"Yeah, yeah," the blonde smiled as she remembered, "man I don't think i've ever been less focused during a class."

"I don't know how we even passed finals."

"Screw finals, midterms!" Paige laughed loudly.

Myla ran a hand through her hair, her usual natural curls had been curled and styled with an iron, now appearing longer as they hung down her back. A few chunks in the front had been cut into curtain bangs, falling perfectly back into place when her hand returned to her side. Paige watched as the shorter girl straightened out her skirt, her gaze falling to the perfect swell of her hips as it curved in to become her stomach. Has her shape always been that perfect?

When Myla looked back up, Paige took note of the smoothness of her lips. It was hard to tell if the pink tint they held was natural or if it was a lipstick, but regardless, Paige had decided that she loved it.

Myla's mascara coated lashes batted up at the blonde, quietly waiting for her response to a question that had completely went over her head.

"Paige?" she called out.

"Yeah?"

"I asked what you were in town for," Myla smiled.

A nervous laugh escaped Paige and she briefly shook her head, "Sorry. I'm here for a week with some of my teammates."

"Oh nice. Is it for basketball or..." her voice trailed off.

"Nah, just pleasure."

Myla nodded again, anxiously biting her lip whilst she slowly built up the courage to ask her real question.

Paige hadn't even noticed her slight hesitation, but then again she had never been that observant. If she was, she would've caught on to the crush that Myla had developed on her during their junior year of high school. A crush that, let anyone other than Myla tell it, never really went away.

"Well y'know i'd love to catch up, if you're not too busy..." Myla finally breathed out, the grip she had on her basket beginning to slip from how sweaty her palms had become.

Paige, excited about the offer, immediately nodded her head, "That sounds great actually, when were you thinkin'?"

"I'm not really sure, I have some things lined up this week. If you give me your number though i'm sure we can work something out."

"Okay."

After the pair exchanged numbers and said their 'goodbyes,' they each went their separate ways. Paige proceeded to grab the things that Ice had requested before making her way back to her friends. It took her a minute to find them, their place having changed from the snack aisle over to the wide selection of alcohol. When they spotted her, KK removed her phone from her ear and Ice dramatically threw her hands up.

"We've been calling you," she said frustratedly.

"Yeah, we thought somebody snatched you," KK said, mimicking a grabbing motion with her arms.

"Relax," Paige laughed, "I was talkin' to somebody."

"A fan?" Ice asked.

"No, somebody I know from high school."

"Hm, well we gotta get back if we wanna make our dinner reservations tonight." Ice took the things from Paige's hands and put them in the car, positioning herself behind it to push. "Let's go."

___________________________________________________________

Paige sat in the living room with her warmed up leftovers sitting in her lap. The movie the girls had been watching had been paused after they learned of Paige's plans to meet with Myla, all of them bombarding her with questions about who she was and how they knew each other. Silently chewing on a few fries, her attention was grasped by Aubrey as the girl threw her another question.

"So you had one class with this girl for one year and now y'all are going out for lunch?"

"Yeah," Paige nodded. She noticed the expressions her friends held, faces of uncertainty and disapproval. "What? We became good friends that year." It hadn't entirely been a lie, Paige and Myla did indeed become friends during their shared time in that class. Only that was all there was. Their entire friendship had been kept between the walls of that freezing Physics classroom, neither one of them even sparing each other a second glance outside of that. Paige could tell you every single thing that Myla had done over the weekend from the months of August to May. But if you asked her where the girl had sat for lunch during those same months, she would've stared at you, stuck.

"Good friends doing what -- cutting open animals and bonding over their intestines?" Kayla joked.

"First off, that's Biology," Paige said, "and second, the way we became friends isn't even weird. Y'all just hatin.'"

"We're not hating Paige," Azzi said, "we're just trying to make sure you're not being lured out to some remote location where none of us can find you."

"No seriously, do you know who you are? I was on Ebay the other day and I found a fake chunk of your hair for sale," Aubrey told her, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Aubrey please," Azzi frowned.

"Im for real! It was in a signed ziplock bag 'n' everything," she continued.

Jana, rolling her eyes, finally chimed in the conversation. "How about we just do a deep dive on this girl and settle this?" she suggested.

Azzi nodded with a smile, pulling out her phone and opening Instagram.

"Good luck with that, she doesn't have social media," Paige said smugly, leaning back in her seat.

"No social media?" KK frowned, sharing a look with Ice, "Oh she definitely a weirdo."

Kayla scoffed, "Tell that to her 3 million followers."

It came as a shock to the girls that Paige hadn't gotten whiplash from how fast she turned her head. Her face contorted in a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

"Lemme see that," she demanded.

Azzi was unresponsive as she scrolled through the girl's Instagram, her eyes widening a little more with every picture she clicked on.

"Azzi," Paige spat out.

Kayla snatched the phone from Azzi's hand, earning a pout from her as she threw the phone over to Paige. Swiftly catching it, her face began to somewhat mimic Azzi's. Her friends crowded around her as they all looked through Myla's account. Pictures of her in revealing bikinis as she posed in the sand or by the pool, reels of her in undergarments parading around with girls who wore similar things, and the rest were her dressed up in fancy outfits at various premieres.

Who the fuck is this and what did she do with the real Myla Mintz?

The Myla that Paige remembered hadn't even had a social media platform, and now here she was with 3 million followers on Instagram. High school Myla hated going to the pool because the thought of being in a swimsuit in front of a bunch of strangers freaked her out. She hated her stretch marks, she hated how her thighs rubbed together when she walked, how she constantly felt the need to keep her arms away from her body because otherwise it 'made her feel fat.'

Paige had never understood Myla's desire to keep her body hidden, if she had been blessed with a body like that in high school she would've walked around showing it off. But Myla wanted to hide it. Now, looking at the new image that the Mintz girl had created for herself, it was obvious to Paige that a lot about her had changed.

"She's a model," Jana said, pointing out the tagged page in her bio, "IMG models."

"Damn, she a real model. None of that fake ig shit," Aubrey spoke, her voice slightly airy from seeing the photos.

"You sure you went to school with her, Paige?" Kayla joked, using her pointer finger to tap the blonde.

Paige couldn't answer, she could hardly even hear the question as her focus remained solely on the picture that was displayed on her screen. It was a casually taken photo of Myla on the beach. Her curls were completely soaked, fingers scrunching them at the top of her head. Her red bikini top had a zipper in the middle, one that was partially unzipped to reveal her cleavage. The matching bottoms that did very little to cover what she had clung tightly to her perfect skin.

She was smiling happily with her eyes closed, pearly teeth on full show. Everything about the picture was perfect, from the rawness of her smile to the carefreeness of her energy. Paige couldn't think of a single thing in the world that could've made the post better, that was until she read the caption typed below. It made her eyebrows raise, her lips part, her heart stop for a period of time that would concern medical specialist.

'Happy Pride from your fav;)'

___________________________________________________________

A/N: so obviously this is in third person and i didn't really like that so im planning to change it going forward

BUT NEW SERIESSSSS, im hype soooo i hope yall are too

[poetryvampire]

The Song of Rolan

Dingdong! Horny Rolan posting hours again. I started writing head canons for how vocal our lovely wizard can get. It got a bit long so I turned it in a little fic. Also sorry for the name im a lit nerd

Words: 2,705

Rating: Explicit

Rolan x AFAB! Reader

Prompt: Rolan's voice drives you crazy. But he has a terrible habit of stifling all his pretty little noises in bed. You help him fix that.

Tags: teasing, pointy ear play, a touch of edging, dry humping, sloppy oral, p and v sex, bit of overstimulation, creampie, riding that tiefling straight to hell and back

It was an understatement to say you were proud of Rolan. He was an accomplished wizard, loving brother and - in your opinion-the perfect partner. One that you could see yourself spending the rest of your days with. That's not to say he didn't get on your nerves. Not only with his grumpy tendencies but more so with his habit of over working.  You adored his passion and drive to further his studies but it had led to more and more long lonely nights. Either from him traveling with colleagues or the tiefling locking himself in his study to work on a multitude of projects until morning light. 

He had returned home only yesterday having spent almost two full weeks away and yet he still seems dead set to spend all evening pouring over his notes. The Wizard's focus was getting worse by the day. Not that he hadn't been overjoyed to see you. He had practically knocked you off your feet with the intensity of his hug when he came striding through the door. You had spent hours locked in each other's arms in your large shared bed. Steadily he moved between tales of his journey and peppering your skin with feverish kisses.

Rolan had taken you greedily. Frantic, practically tripping over himself trying to touch all of you at once. He couldn't quite find a voice for his needs but you swayed to him happily, matching his clumsy passion. There was plenty of the time to truly savor each other. But still your patience was running thin.

Somehow you had once again found yourself in an empty bedroom starving for your partner. Last night had been a sweet reunion but it did little to quell the fire Rolan lad lit in you while he was away. He had only been gone a few days when a letter arrived that left you breathless. Deciding to skip over the details of his journey he focused instead on his longing for you.

'What little beauty there is to be had here is dwarfed a thousand times by the thought of you. I dream of you always. Of being wrapped in your divine cunt. Of feeling it pulse against my tongue. Gods, I am your slave. Use me only for your pleasure. Let me worship you, my heart.'

His words rang in your head even now, pooling that familiar heat down below. How you wanted him. Wanted to hear such words from his own lips. From the moment you met you’d been in love with the deep rumble of his voice. Nothing gave you such satisfaction as pulling music from Rolan’s lips as you made love. It wasn't easy. Even still he had trouble fully letting himself go. Often he would stifle his words and moans to your great dismay. You recall gazing up at him as you ran your tongue over his length to find his hand clamped tightly over his mouth muffling his cries. A senseless action as you two had been the only people home at the time.  

Swiftly you move to your wardrobe every drop of patience spent. You need him; to wring every moan, grunt and whimper out of that man or it would kill you. He deserves to relish in and express his pleasure freely. Perhaps he just needs a little push.

Much to your relief the tower was empty by this hour. You moved lightly through the halls wearing nothing but a sheer purple dressing gown.

You tap your knuckles against the hard oak door as you enter his study. He was exactly as you had pictured him, four open books across his desk and him writing furiously.

"Beloved!" He half glances at you as he takes a quick slip from his wine glass. "Now don't worry," he continues flipping pages. "I hadn't forgotten about you. This was intended to be a short little report but I just keep finding revisions that seem a shame not to add."

Going above and beyond as always. You can't help but smile as you watch him, those tantalizing eyes darting from paper to paper. Just the sight of him makes the warmth of excitement flare in you. You feel your nipples hardening against the thin fabric you wore. He's dressed down; the lacing on his ruffled white shirt undone to his mid chest and sleeves pushed up past the elbow. Such a small glimpse of extra skin makes your heart race. Hopefully you can rise the same reaction.

"You have such a way with words it would be rude not to." You purr, moving to his side.

"I'll be done soon, truly." He can hear the need in your voice. "Then I'm all yours."

You hum amused as you lift his glass to take a deep drink.

"You sound like you don't believe me." Rolan's hand passes through the space once hosting his glass. "Have I ever let you down in the-"

His eyes finally snap to you and his words catch sharply in his throat, blood rushing to his face. You laugh, finishing the glass.

" What's the matter, my love? You're usually so generous with your words."

"I- I-you," He stammers.

"I seem to remember such generosity in a letter you wrote."

You undo the gown. His eyes fix on you as you let it fall to the floor. As many times as he's seen it the sight of you in your full glory drives him wild. 

"Do you remember that letter?"

"Oh, of course." His voice is barely a whisper, his body tense as if ready to pounce on you.

To his surprise you straddle him and his hands fly to your hips drawing you closer. Both of you groan into a deep kiss as you grind yourself down against the quickly growing tent in his trousers.

"Do you want to please me?" You growl half into his mouth.

"More than anything." He gasps between kisses. 

You pull away, placing a finger over his lips. His beaming cheeks and  pleading eyes stoke your maddening hunger for him.

"Then let me please you. I need to feel it and hear it. Let me drown in you, Rolan."

"Gods above," He groans.

You can see he's already holding back. But you would have to help him along by targeting his weak points. You start with his neck, ghosting your lips over him, letting the tension build. Your hot breath sends a shiver down his spine as he grasps your thighs trying to push you on.

At last you press your lips to his skin earning a soft hiss. You try to go slow but make your need apparent with the ferocity of your mouth. A deep sigh escapes him as you attack his jawline, sucking and teasing as you go. Rolan bucks his hips suddenly, huffing. He's too shy to ask but he's dying for you to touch his ears.

A quick bite to the lobe earns another sharp gasp. You laugh knitting your fingers through his hair- Gods his sounds make your heart flutter.

"Oh? Did you like that, my love?" You coo into his neck. There's words on his lips but they melt away as your tongue slowly traces the shell of his ear right to the tip. "Hhm? What was that? Are you unsure? But you're usually so strong in your convictions."  You repeat the action making him squirm underneath you. You grind down on his bulge creating a delicious friction. "However can I know you're enjoying yourself if you don't tell me?"

"It's good." He chokes out at last, meeting the movements of your eager hips.

"What is? We can't all be scholars you know." You draw away from him slightly. "What do you want?"

He laughs as a devilish grin spreads across his parted lips.

"Everything. You're so, you're so- " his words falter. He still feels your breath on him but the lack of contact makes it clear you're waiting. It's only in times like this when Rolan has difficulty summoning words.

"I've never heard of a wizard so speechless." You goad him and start to move away. "Must want to get back to his dusty old books rather than-"

"No!" He cries, locking his arms around you keeping you in place. "Your mouth- your tongue feels so fucking good I can't stand it."

You lick a strip down his neck while bringing your hands to the sides of his head, making sure to brush your fingers across the points of his ears, pulling a low shudder from him.

"There's the man that wrote me such an inspiring letter. That made me plunge my fingers in myself and dream of his cock."

He swears through his teeth, his eyes sparkling with desire.

"And where do you want my mouth?" You continue practically able to feel the heat flash across his face. Your tongue slides across his clavicle  and then moves lower to lap at the ridges on his chest. "Here, then?"

'No,' he breathes.

You swear you can feel him twitch in his pants. Moving your mouth lower you open his shirt completely and do away with it. You stop at the sharp ridge above his stomach.

"Oh, here?"

He shakes his head, face now blazing hot.  Pained whines fall from him as your mouth climbs back up the path of his chest. It isn't until you graze his Adam's apple that he breaks.

"My cock! Fuck I need your mouth on my cock. I need it now, please." He pleads like his life is at stake.

Instantly you're on the floor in front of him pushing his legs apart. You let out a moan yourself once you've sprung him free. You admire just how heavy he is in your hands and run your fingers over the ridges you wish were currently pounding into you.

With a throaty gasp a few drops of precum spill from his head just as you flick your tongue over it. You don't make him wait long before you take him into your mouth.

His moans ring through the room; the music you've been dying to hear. You waste no time taking him apart. Your mouth runs up and down his full length as you hollow your cheeks.  With a loud pop you release him, a string of saliva still connecting you.

Rolan stairs transfixed, his exquisitely carved chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Like this?"

"Yes! Love, it's perfect. Keep sucking, just like that."

Before the words are past his lips you've swallowed him down again, your eyes never leaving his. Now comes your turn to rid the fears that hold you back. As you bob your head you make no mind of the symphony of wet, lewd noises filling the air.

The obscene display tears a guttural groan from him. Unable to hold off any longer move you press a hand to your wetness as you relish taking him like this. The feel, the sound, the smell. It was quite literally making your mouth water. You switch to running your tongue from base to tip stopping only to tease him with a few quick flicks at his head. Drunk on lust at the sounds of his grunts and murmurs you dip your fingers into your dripping hole. 

"Nine hells." He shakes out, breathing hard. "Tell me, what have I done to deserve such adoration?”

Rolan’s eye then focuses on your hands. One pleasuring yourself and the other roaming your own body. You throw your head back with a soft sigh, his unyielding gaze intensifying your pleasure.

"What a wanton little thing you are." Rolan licks his lips in awe.

You protest for a moment as he snatches your hand away from your sex but hum in approval as he licks them clean.

"You sweet thing.”He coos after slowly releasing your digits. “Let me take care of that."

The swift flourish of magic swirls pass and you scream as you find yourself tumbling back on the plush blankets of your bed. Somehow it still catches you off guard.

Rolan has your legs pushed apart in seconds, taking a moment to breathe you in before going to work. Gently pulling your folds open his expert fingers, his tongue ravished you with the same pace you had set. In moments he had your hips shaking involuntarily. Each painfully sweet lash on your clit making you chant his name.

Yet you still weren't sated in your need to watch your lover twist in ecstasy. Taking him by the horns you pull his mouth to yours, lapping at his lips to savor the taste of your sex.

"How can I be of service?" Rolan purrs, a wicked smile forming.

"Lay back.”

He complies and you straddle his hips once more. You drag your core against his agonizingly hard cock. Now you were free to delight in the bumps and ridges you so adored. Your slick coats you both allowing you to slide over him with ease.

Rolan tries to caress you but you pull his hands away and pin them to the bed making him shudder.

"No, love. Leave them here." You roll your hips slowly bearing down, pushing a sharp whimper from his throat. "You just focus on this." Another roll, another whine. As you move your hands away he digs his claws into the sheets to obey. His eyes rake over you, especially as your speed increases. The sight of your breasts bouncing never failed to make him feral with lust. 

Quickly the last of his composure is slipping away as you grind over him. His hair framing his face wildly, his body trembling with effort not to take control and plunge into you. He howls when his tip catches on your entrance.

"Oh is this what you want now? What a greedy thing you are."  You tease.

"Please, mercy." he rasps out as you lower yourself ever so slightly only to pull away. “Give it to me, please! Love, I need you.” 

“How do you need me?” you wiggle your hips, toying with him. 

“I need to be inside.” He breathes, his frustration palpable as his tail snaps against the mattress. 

With unsteady thighs you sink enough to just take in his tip before slowly drawing back.

“Fuck, I need you.” Rolan cries, his voice breaking “I need to stretch that perfect tight little cunt. To feel it cum all over my cock. Gods, please fuck me!” 

Unable to hold back any longer your body obeys and you take all of him at once. The sudden action rips a howl from you both. The slight pain and overwhelming pleasure of being so full does little to slow you down and you continue your animalistic pace. 

The song spilling from Rolan’s lips has you intoxicated utterly. It’s a lurid rumble of repeating ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ‘fuck me’ and words in his own native tongue. You ride his cock with all you have drinking in the sight of him. His claws deep in the mattress now, he’s writhing and wailing below you. 

Finally you pull his hands to your hips and his body jumps to match your rhythm. He’s practically sobbing now, eyes swimming with rapture and concentration as he drives himself into you. A spike of heat pulls at your core and with another desperate thrust you come undone, clenching uncontrollably around him. Another wave of unbearable pleasure hits you as your lover pulses and spills his hot load inside of you. He rides it out, ending his flurry of moans with a few deep ragged breaths. 

Rolan catches you in his arms before you even realize you’ve started to fall forward and presses you to his chest. You languish there enjoying the rhythm of his heartbeat. 

“I don’t deserve you.” he says, tangling his fingers in your hair. 

“You’re so dramatic” you sigh “I’ve just missed you. A lot.”   

“Well, with a greeting like that I have half a mind to leave you more often.” he smirks. 

“Don’t you dare,” you warn. 

“Of course not. I wouldn’t dream of it.” Rolan kisses the top of your head, holding you tightly to him until you both fall into slumber. 

Thanks for reading! 

Much love <3

[someforeignband]

🪱Wiggly Worm Wednesday!🪱

having thoughts about eddie and steve going to visit steve’s grandmother! (im spending the week with my nanna and am having thoughts)

It starts with this nebulous idea that Steve’s parents didn’t want to take care of Francesca’s mother after her husband died, so they moved Steve’s maternal grandmother to a 65+ community in Sun City, Arizona. Just like their son, they’d much rather ship off Franny’s mother instead of dealing with her needs. So, they leave sweet Cecilia in a massive 2,900 square foot condo in the Arizona desert, all by herself.

One afternoon in march, Steve gets a call from his Nonna. She explains she has had some plumbing issues and neither Franny, nor Richard is returning her calls. She complains that there’s palm fronds in her yard, and with the state of her back, she just can’t fix all of these things on her own.

“How do you feel about a trip to Arizona?” Steve would ask Eddie, after a two-and-a-half hour long conversation with his grandmother.

Thusly, a PanAm flight to Phoenix was booked. It was Eddie’s first time on a plane. Despite his nerves prior to getting on the flight, he has a marvelous time. Eddie discovers that he loves turbulence and puts his hands up and giggles the whole time.

Steve, to Eddie’s dismay, is the exact opposite. He squeezes the armrest the entire 3.5 hour flight. He can’t stand how relaxed Eddie is, not understanding how someone like Eddie could just be so calm.

Once they land, Steve tries to brief Eddie on his Nonna’s disposition. “She’s sort of a firecracker, Eddie. Very particular about pretty much everything. I’m sorry if she’s mean to you.”

Eddie tells him not to worry about it, assures him they’ll get through the weekend.

To Steve’s delight (and Eddie’s utter surprise), Nonna takes to Eddie like a fish to water. He can talk about the Bible with her. Wayne’s been pretty devout his whole life, so when Eddie makes a comment about her dish towel with Philippians 4:6-7 printed on it, Steve knows Eddie’s going to practically be family.

Cece is ecstatic to be able to show the boy pictures of Italia and tell him stories about her upbringing. She shows him pictures of Franny, pictures of her late husband, and her collection of photos of Steve’s baptism. It keeps Cece distracted, while Steve gets to work fixing her kitchen plumbing.

Steve can’t help but grin to himself like a madman as he tinkers with her pipes, listening to his Nonna and his boyfriend volley back and forth. Sharp as whips, the both of them, and god it was nice to watch Eddie get on with someone who was blood to him.

Steve didn’t have much family that bothered to be in his life.

It was nice.

And best of all— at least for Nonna— Eddie can eat her food. Eddie can seriously put it away. Steve stops after one helping of Parmigiana di Melanzane, but Eddie has two more servings, and saves room for dessert.

“Eat up, Edoardo,” Cece pats his cheek. “Too skinny, Stephano. You starving him?”

“Never, Nonna,” Steve laughs, shaking his head, watching Eddie shovel another spoonful into his mouth, grinning at Steve across the dining room table.

Despite the fact that they’ve been seeing each other for a few months, after dancing around each other for the better part of two years—Eddie’s feeling things about Steve fixing his grandmas plumbing, doing yard work, etc. The flush in Steve’s face, hands on his hips, complaining about the state of the yard: Eddie’s never felt more in love (and other tingly, warm sensations).

Further, Eddie watches Steve and Cece scream at each other in stilted Italian as she tries to pick up a scorpion and take it outside with her bare hands. Finally, after about forty-five seconds of screaming and the scorpion trying to wiggle away, Steve takes Eddie’s boot and smacks the thing with a scared squeal. It crunches under the sole and twitches a few times before dying on the salmon colored tile, guts splattered everywhere.

“You handled that well,” Eddie muses, once the whole ordeal is over, taking a dishcloth and floor cleaner, scrubbing at the thing’s guts.

“I couldn’t let her get stung. She’s seventy-nine!” Steve says, then shudders. “I never wanna do that again.”

Later that night, Eddie sips coffee out of a lumpy clay mug, a Stephano Original, while she and Steve play rummy. Catching eyes over the table, they smile at each other, knowingly. After a while, Eddie gets tired, slinking off to the office, where Cecilia had set him up with an air mattress.

Before Steve retires to the spare bedroom that night, his Nonna pulls him aside, wrapping him in a warm hug.

“Ti voglio,” She whispers, kissing his temple, smoothing his hair back.

“I love you too,” Steve answers quietly, thrown off by the unexpected display of affection.

“And,” She pauses, scrunching her dark eyebrows together, deciding exactly what to say. “I really like that boy, Stephano.”

Steve’s chest fills with warmth, not knowing exactly if she means what he hopes she means. But at that moment, he’ll take it.

“Me, too, Nonna.” He whispers, grinning at her. “Me, too.”

TAGGING ONLY @yours-etc!!!! WRITE SOMETHING I MISS YOUR WRITING

[bluemerakis]

┌── ˚*❀*̥˚ ─── ˚*̥❀*˚ ──┐

✐ᝰ bluemerakis

┗━━• ❃ ° •° ❀ °• ° ❃ •━━┛

❝ nothing left to lose ❞

⤷ Word count: 5.2k

It’s that time of the month (yippeee) and my hormones are all over the place. And then I found this gif and I just need this man to hold me this way because I feel like it could solve a world crisis. Thank you.

═════════════════

WARNINGS:

Cussing, fluff, mentions of reader on her period, tame cutesie stuff

SYNOPSIS:

It had been another fairly quiet day as you lounged about the Sanctuary, your mood only dampened by the first day of your period. You were perfectly content to dwell in your bed and rot away for the remainder of the week, not so eager to do much else when the twisting and contracting of your stomach was so prominent, but those plans are set awry when Negan makes a stop at your room with his usual request for a good time.

When you enlighten him on your situation, he decides he’d like to stay regardless and indulge in your company, revealing a side to him you weren’t aware he had.

═════════════════

It had been roughly a month since a group of saviours had scavenged you from your pathetic life of living off the woods. You’d been practically half-starved when the saviours had found you, a pitiful amalgamation of skin and bones that served no purpose other than to earn their ridicule. They’d have put you down and served you up as walker deterrent for their borders had it not been for one of the men recognising your face.

You’d been tracking the Sanctuary’s dealings for quite some time then, successfully managing to map out their routines and planning sparse trips to steal a few supplies from the pick up points. You’d had a few close calls, but even then you were like a goddamn shadow, in and out quicker than a blink. The men had never managed to catch you—up until that day, at least. The man had insisted you be dragged back to the Sanctuary, where Negan would hear of your actions and decide the best manner to make you atone for them.

Much to everybody’s surprise, though, he’d been oddly impressed with your skill—despite it being a massive leech on their supplies. His anger was more directed at the inability for his men to contain your posed threat, especially since you were no more than ‘a ghost of a woman’. You’d decided to ignore the implied misogyny in his words, instead focusing on the relief in his decision to spare your life—tied to the condition that you become his wife, of course. You’d reluctantly obliged, acutely aware of how the title would come to violate your own morals at some point, but he’d promised good treatment and up until now, he’d been nothing but true to his word.

The murmur of a light rain trailed through the crack of your partially opened window, infusing the atmosphere of your dim room with a further sense of serenity. You were curled up between the sheets of your bed, lounging on your aching stomach as you paged through your book of the week—a one thousand-paged hardcover on the tragedy of wars. It didn’t play into your usual tastes—it was far from it, actually, but there were so few options available that you couldn’t afford to be picky. It was amazing, really, what things you could convince yourself to indulge in when you were burdened with nothing but free time.

When you’d decidedly punished your stomach—and your mind—enough, you sluggishly rolled onto your side with a groan, flipping the book closed in the process. You didn’t think you could endure another mention of forced cannibalism, and you were only two hundred-odd pages into the historical hell. You doubted you’d find the strength to power through this pick, never having been much of a history fan to begin with.

Your back was turned on the book now, and there it stayed out of sight and out of mind as your eyes fluttered closed around a pressing series of cramps. You instinctively tucked into the foetal position, as though it would somehow lovingly cradle your stomach cramps and encourage it to ease off its painful hold. When the sensation didn’t budge, you opted for resting your eyes, allowing darkness to consume you as you fried to focus on the pattering of the rain against your window. In a way, nature had always been a mother, the rain her very own gentle lullaby that encouraged warmth and a long, peaceful sleep. You’d never get tired of that particular song.

A string of impatient knocks booted your door. You’d barely managed to open your eyes and give permission to enter before you heard the wood creek open, heavy footsteps striking the floor for only a few moments before silence re-emerged. Your head remained pressed against your pillow, your eyes squinting against the dim air as you managed to make out the tall figure of Simon. His arms were crossed against his chest as he glared at you motionlessly through the haze. You didn’t offer the courtesy of sitting up to greet him, which is as much as he’d offered by not waiting for your answer at the door.

“What?” You demanded, the echo of your voice damped by the downfall of rain.

“You know what,” Simon answered bluntly with that coarse annoyance edging his tone. “I don’t make a habit of visiting you for fun. If I’m here, it’s cause Negan’s in the mood for your goods.”

“God,” you groaned, finally lifting your head to properly glare at Simon. “Don’t ever say that again.” You settled for turning onto your back, your head upturned to face the white ceiling. There was a brief moment of silence before you sighed and said, “tell Negan that I’ll be unavailable for the next week.”

“Unavailable?” Simon echoed with a scoff. “You got some other plans we don’t know about?”

“Just my period, dipshit,” you responded thinly before lifting your hand in a shooing gesture. “Now scoot.”

Much to your dismay, Simon’s footsteps seemed to grow closer instead of further, and moments later his silhouette appeared at the foot of your bed. You felt a spark of annoyance at his insistence—the blood that quite literally poured from your insides left you little patience for social interactions.

“You think a little blood’s gonna deter Negan?” The man asked you, his tone mocking at the idea that you could be so stupid. “You’ve seen the guy, he can’t go a single day without that shit smeared all over him. Matters little to him how the blood is obtained—you know?”

You did. Murder and women, the two things Negan couldn’t absolutely ever have his fill of. But you also knew that you’d never been the one to frolic around while on your period, a fact that Negan would have to make peace with. Not only did you find it unappealing, but needlessly messy, too, and you’d rather not spend the aftermath of it all wringing your sheets out. No, your answer was final.

“You’re ruining my peace,” you told Simon pointedly, your eyes still studying the beams that reached between the walls of your room and upheld your pointed ceiling. When he didn’t seem to falter from his position, you sat yourself up with a huff, your fingers clutching your propped up knees. “Tell Negan that I politely decline his request—that is, if you have the balls to. Clearly you’ve got some reservations since you’re still loitering in my room after my many invitations for you to take your leave.”

Simon ignored your jest, running his hand across his hair to tame rogue strands. “He ain’t gon’ take nicely to your answer, sweetheart,” he said.

The pet name made your stomach curl beyond the cramps. “He’ll get over it when he gets on-top of the next wife.”

“Nah,” the man disagreed, rubbing a hand across his moustache. “You know he’s got some special obsession with you. You’ve been here for what—less than a month? Yet you’ve already left quite a mark on the boss-man.” He paused as his gaze lowered across you. “Can’t say I get the charm beyond your beckoning tits and ass.”

You glowered at his crudeness. “Gross, Simon. This is why you’re going to die alone, and the only hint of action you’ll ever experience is the caress of that explosion of bad taste stuck beneath your nose.”

Simon looked briefly offended by your dig at his stash, his jaw evidently clenched around his reckless temper, but he didn’t dare to unleash his fist or tongue. One of the few perks of being Negan’s wife was that you were awarded the opportunities to condescend his men time and time again, yet they were completely helpless in returning the sentiment—that is if they wanted to remain in goodwill at Negan’s side as opposed to being plastered along Lucille’s length.

“I’ll let Negan know,” was all that Simon offered before he departed your room, clearly eager to preserve what little dignity he had left. He made a point to slam the door behind him, which only made you chuckle.

Oh men and their fragile egos.

You could hardly believe they’d been made to rule the earth when their entire masculinity could so easily collapse at their rejected cock. You eased yourself back against the mattress, unable to help the faint smirk spread across your lips as your eyes fluttered closed once more. You were prepared for your second attempt at a nap, the rain growing progressively louder beyond a light drizzle. You remembered seeing the swath of grey clouds stretched across the horizon like an impending doom when you’d opened your windows this morning. It seemed that they’d finally arrived to deliver their promise of a heavy downpour.

It wasn’t long before the hum of the rain became distorted by your amassing fatigue, sleep arriving hastily to claim what remnants of your consciousness remained. You had surrendered all control, so eager to melt into the peaceful expanse of black where you could leave behind your mortal pain. You’d barely been gifted half an hour of that haven before Negan’s voice tethered you and withdrew you from the dark breaches of your mind, your eyes flickering open. You hadn’t even even heard him enter the bedroom.

“Holdin’ up there, sweetheart?”

The second greeting of his presence came at the menacing outline of Lucille, remarkably propped along his broad shoulder as he idled a few steps from the foot of your bed. You drew a clumsy palm across your tired eyes, attempting to chase away the drowsiness that clung heavily to your lids.

“Did something get lost in translation?” You managed to say, your voice slightly abraded by grogginess.

“Not the warm greeting a man expects to hear from his wife after a long and shit-filled day,” Negan said with a sultry gruffness, moving to take up a seat beside your torso.

The mattress dipped beside you, prompting you to turn your head and glance at him. “I’m sure one of the other girls can pick up my slack,” you suggested bluntly.

Your disinterest only seemed to earn that all-knowing smirk from Negan. “Goddammit, woman, you’ve got balls,” he remarked though that wide grin, his head slightly cocked to properly glimpse your face. He lowered Lucille from his shoulder, his hands propping onto the hilt as he planted the bat against the ground and leaned his weight onto it. “And that’s exactly why you’re my favourite wife. Hell, you even got me to walk the extra mile just to come and see you.”

“Not on purpose,” you sighed dejectedly, your eyes wandering along the glinting folds of his leather jacket. He did look good in that jacket—not that you’d ever milk his ego by admitting it. “If Simon truly had the nerve to refer my answer, you’d know that coming here was a waste of time. You’re going to have to fill your blood quota elsewhere.”

“Ah, come on,” he drawled, his gaze unrelenting through those darn hypnotising eyes of his. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but ain’t a good poking of the colons a great way to relieve some of the pain?” He asked pointedly. “In other words, you ought to let me fuck those asshole cramps right outta you. What’s a little blood, anyways?”

At that statement, you couldn’t help the flit of your eyes toward Lucille, the object always so menacing even when benched on the sidelines. You dragged your attention back to Negan’s expectant expression with a beleaguered sigh. “I don’t care what you get off on, Negan,” you told him. “Have your bloody fill of it anywhere else, but not here. I said no, and I meant it.”

You half expected him to further knead at the angle he was currently working, eventually wearing you down to a state that could almost be called consent—what more could you expect from a sadistic, murderous fanatic? A sudden cramp displaced that particular trail of thought, causing you to discreetly tense your lower half, inside of your lip taken into bite as an instinctual coping mechanism.

Negan’s head tilted back slightly with a trace of a chuckle, his tongue then poking through to glide along his lower lip as he gazed at you through narrowly thoughtful eyes. “All right,” he relented—much to your surprise. Had somebody knocked Negan out cold on the way here and taken his place? “If you’re going to deny my very eager balls a pleasurable time, the least you can do is entertain me with a conversation.”

You challenged the weight of his stare—ever so flirtatious regardless of the circumstances. “You’ve literally enslaved an entire selection of women,” you pointed out crassly. “Go bother one of them instead.”

“Enslaved?” He repeated, his eyebrows perched on a look of incredulity. “I didn’t enslave any one of those women. I’m a fair man—I believe in free will and I always honour my word. I weigh the options, I offer a choice—” he lifted one hand to gesture to himself, “—and they made their choice.”

“After you coerced them,” you said around a thick yawn, blinking away the moisture along your eyes as you focused your growing alertness on him. You sat yourself up with a muffled grunt, ignoring the sharp pains that struck your stomach with the movements. “You’re not a democrat. You’re just a bully with an unhealthy attachment to a bat. It’s like Negan’s version of Bonnie and Clyde.”

Negan fixated you with a long look, his expression ever so unrelenting on what thoughts were passing through that tainted mind of his. “You’ve got an awful lotta spunk for somebody actin’ like she’s on her deathbed,” he deflected, a short moment of silence following shortly after. “What about you—girl who knows what she wants and doesn’t take shit from the next gapin’ asshole?”

“What about me?”

“Did I coerce you, too?” He inquired huskily, his eyes narrowing in an almost dare for you to answer honestly.

You hadn’t ever needed much convincing to speak your mind. “Absolutely,” you answered simply, then paused before adding, “have you honestly managed to convince yourself that either one of your wives want to be here?” Your head was slightly tilted out of sheer curiosity, amazed at how painfully naive he appeared to be—for once.

Negan’s lips were spread thin with a smirk, parting as he said, “I appreciate your honesty. Although I’d be lying if I said I ain’t a tad bit hurt.”

A severe cramp seized your stomach, causing you to throw your face into your pillow. “Oh, you don’t know hurt, Negan,” you groaned. “If you truly had the capacity to feel, please be so kind as to spare me your company so that I can rot away in peace.”

He straightened up from the Lucille’s prop, his expression becoming inquisitive. “All right, I’ll leave,” he eased off, attention dropping to his lap, where he carefully rested the bat and stroked suggestively at her barbwire-infused wooden length. “And I guess I’ll be takin’ these with me,” he added, one hand dipping into his leather jacket to pull out a small, plastic cylinder labelled ibuprofen.

Your eyes practically bulged at the offering. Pain medication was strictly reserved for post-surgical cases and the physically wounded—those marred by gunshot wounds, blades, or even brute fists—you name it. That was Negan’s self-imposed rule. In this dying world, pain medication certainly wasn’t a medical luxury extended to lesser problems like a woman’s period pains—despite the entire gender technically being a victim of the repeated assault of severe period cramps. For at least a week of every month. For at least five decades of their lives.

“The fuck?” You murmured, hand reaching for the medication as though needing to feel it’s physical form to believe it’s existence.

Negan plucked it out of reach with a shit-eating grin. “You want it?” He taunted, propping his elbow onto his knee as he rattled the container between his fingers.

Your hand hesitated mid-air, expression becoming bleary as you hesitantly asked, “what’s it gonna cost me?”

“Question of the century,” he answered vaguely, intense stare beating down on you. He looked almost scheming, and that wasn’t a strange mask to wear—not for Negan Smith. But for once, his actions surprised you in a way that wasn’t coupled by repulsion. “Y’know, you’re a pain in my ass, ‘cause I can’t help but have a soft spot for girls like you—all feisty and opinionated and sure as hell ready to give my big balls a real good talking to.” The hand which clutched the medication gravitated toward you, offering it up without the tether of debt. “On the house, since I’m the boss man around here callin’ all the big, bloody shots.”

Your eyes narrowed cautiously, your hand slowly reaching to acquire your personal saving grace. You half expected Negan to yank it away as a feat of ridicule, but his hand remained steadfast, his expression eerily intense as he overlooked your internal war with a light undertone of amusement quirking the corner of his lips.

“Ya want it, or not?”

You took it from his grasp, bringing it closer to examine the legitimacy of the label. “I’m the only thorn in your foot because everybody else is scared of you,” you said distractedly, eyes then flickering from the medication to meet his idling stare.

Negan adjusted his torso to appear taller, Lucille slipping between his thighs to prod the floor under his guiding grip. “But not you,” he reaffirmed.

“I used to be.”

“Yeah?” He husked, eyes narrowed interestedly, tongue momentarily poking through his grin—as it so often did. “The hell’s changed? Real world toughen you up? Ya got a pair o’ steel down there now?”

You brushed aside his snark. “Nothing’s changed, really,” you admitted, attention drifting as you popped open the lid of the container. “But I’ve got nothing left to lose, and the worst you could do is make jam out of my brains.” You dispensed a tablet into your palm, then clicked the lid closed. “But you won’t,” you stated, meeting his gaze boldly.

Negan’s head tilted with a far too entertained air. “Why’s that?”

“Same reason you’re here. I’m your favourite wife, apparently—and what’s a man like you to do without his wife? You might just implode without a place to stick it,” you jabbed. “I’m always the one you come running to with all your shit—god knows why.”

“I gotta say, that’s mighty cocky of you,” he drawled through a grin, hand moving to whisk across his bearded jaw. “And that’s comin’ from me.”

You offered him the ibuprofen, a ghost of a cheeky-lipped grin setting in. “Force of habit when I’m obliged to be at your side every other hour of the day. Honestly, you only have yourself to blame.”

His grin widened, eyes leering you over before dipping to the container you re-offered him. “Nah,” he murmured. “Keep it. And not a word ‘bout it—I ain’t got time for ants up my ass when the other gals get wind of the shit I ain’t doin’ for them.”

“That supposed to make me feel special?” You jested. “Or just a threat?”

Negan’s lip hitched with a smirk—silent ambiguity, and reached a hand into his pocket to procure a fresh orange, bottled water and a packet of chips—your favourite chips. “That shit’ll put ya in a grave on an empty stomach,” he averted, chin jutting to the pill in your palm. He leaned over to place the snacks on the bedside table, offering you a sidelong glance. “I know your panties get all hot for this stale sack of shit,” he said, beckoning to your chips, then added, “and the orange will keep up that energy of yours—y’know, boost the spirit and fuel that friskiness o’ yours.”

You scowled indignantly as he took a swipe at your taste in chips. “Those aren’t my favourite chips,” you lied defensively, moving to place the pill beside your newly acquired snacks. “It’s practically the only brand that’s left in the midst of this dying world—so none of us can afford to be picky, can we?”

Honestly, you’d have to admit it to yourself that the chips being spared even in the midst of the apocalypse didn’t bode well for your case, but why go down without a meaningless fight?

Negan chuckled all-knowingly, settling Lucille onto the ground before he leaned his elbow onto the mattress beside you and brought his lips into the proximity of your face. “Tasteless or not, I’m willin’ to bet my dick that you’ll be back asking for more,” he murmured, hazel eyes glazed with that bedroom sex-haze as he delicately searched between your eyes.

Your attention flickered between him and the flashy, grit teeth poking through the lips you’d tasted countless times, his words so open-ended for interpretation—because Negan Smith loved playing games. “Are we still talking about the chips?” You asked softly, eyebrow hitched expectantly.

“We can talk about whatever you goddamn want,” he grumbled huskily, lips making an advance for yours, but you brought your hand up to press an index finger into the divot of his chin.

“I told you,” you began, “not happening—not today. So, off you scamper to the next wife for a good tickle.”

“Cut that crap,” Negan chided levelly, then reached for your hand and pried it from his chin. “The others can wait, let’s just get you up and runnin’ because it’s been a goddamn buzzkill on my dick.”

“Oh, how terrible for you,” you sniped, brows furrowing at his nerve.

He seized your hand in a tight grip to place a kiss to your knuckles, his eyes narrowed around an intense gaze as he maintained eye contact throughout the gesture. You fought the urge to yank your hand free out of spite. Once his lips retracted from your skin, he tucked your hand between your bodies as he leant down to place a kiss on your forehead instead. It was a rather gentle touch—the most intimate one he’s ever bestowed on you, but it didn’t linger long before he pulled back and released your hand.

“Jesus, burnin’ up all for me?” He remarked, pressing the backside of his fingers to your forehead before they caressed the expanse and moved to push back the loose strands of hair that cascaded around your view. “You’re hot as shit.”

“I am, thank you,” you said suggestively, adding more earnestly, “it happens sometimes—I think my body is literally trying to kill me.”

He pulled back his hand from your hair, finger trailing down the angle of your jaw before he withdrew his touch entirely. “Yeah, well, you’re tough as nails, so tell the biological bitch to dial it down a notch.”

“Duly noted,” you murmured, reaching for the orange atop the bedside stand, your attention deliberately downturned to the fruit in clutch as you began to peel it while simultaneously reflecting on the situation presented before you.

You were thankful for the medication, but it felt odd to hold a sense of gratitude for a man like Negan, and you had not the slightest idea on how to handle the foreign phenomenon. Even a month ago, when he’d quite literally plucked you from death’s claws, there was no gratitude to behold—his motives in sparing you had always been selfish. But this instance? This was an action you thought beyond his emotional capacity. You’d thought his better conscious had been so far lost to a history of bad and reckless decisions that there was not a slither of DNA left still capable of holding regard for others—but this action alone prompted you to reconsider that notion. After all, he owed you nothing, and you owed him everything, yet it was him that had come to settle.

A manipulative tactic? Possibly. You weren’t all that naive to allow this instance alone to so easily sway your opinion on him. He was still of questionable character—and that moral debate could ricochet for an endless amount of hours. You spared yourself the turmoil and brought yourself to it, lifting your head to meet his stare once more. He’d been watching you enigmatically, without his usual running commentary to fill the void—it felt uncomfortable to have a silence so long settle between the two of you.

You decided to settle for a simple, “thanks, by the way,” as you set aside the discarded orange peels and began to thumb at the centre to separate the slices. “For the medication,” you clarified, popping a slice into your mouth. The first bite was an explosion of sultry sweetness, a true pleasure to behold.

Negan gave somewhat of an accomplished smirk. “I got ya,” he answered, his gaze lingering incoherently on you before he blinked away the haze and straightened himself from the bed with a grunt. “Take a hot bath—” he suggested, hoisting up Lucille from her position on the ground, “—hopefully that Lady Uterus o’ yours will let loose for a bit.”

He strung the bat across his shoulder—the rightful queen atop her throne, and turned to begin his amble toward the door.

“Are you going to draw it for me?” You asked him hopefully, which made him halt and partially turn his torso to face you.

He gave a half-hearted chuckle. “What’re you, ten?” He jested.

“If only,” you retorted wistfully. “The only stomach ache ten year old me ever got was because of one too many bags of chips.” You caught yourself at the mention of chips, then felt the need to clarify, “the good kind, not these ones.”

Negan lips spread with amusement. “What a goddamn time to be alive,” he stated.

“I’ll say,” you murmured, then turned your attention back to your diminishing orange. “Anyway, if you’re done bothering me now, I’ll draw that bath.”

“Damn, I stick my neck out for you and I don’t even get to stay for the show?”

“You’re always getting a show,” you retorted. “Let a girl have some alone time, for once. Besides, there’s no such thing as you sticking your neck out, seeing as you’re the one usually holding the guillotine.”

Negan chuckled, his eyes holding a mischievous glint. “Touché,” was all he offered. “I’ll draw you that bath.”

You perked with surprise, the last orange slice popped between your lips. “Only enough water for one,” you mumbled around the sweet, stringy flesh, brows lifted with implication. “Just in case you were getting any ideas.”

“Oh, I got ideas,” he hummed, scheming grin on his lips. “The meds I got ya? On the house. This? This’ll cost ya a little something. And once you’re feeling right as rain, I’ll come and collect.”

You gave a slight flicker of your eyes. “Okay, tax man,” you said, reaching for the bottled water and pill. “Whatever Negan wants.”

“Atta girl,” he praised, hand raised to point an index finger in your direction. “Now you’re startin’ to sound like a commendable wife—almost enough to make good ol’ Lucille here jealous.”

“Leave your weird bat out of this,” you said before splitting open the seam of the sealed bottle and taking an eager swig at the liquid. You popped the pill into your mouth shortly after and gave a hard swallow, your expression furrowing in disgust when it momentarily lodged itself against your tongue with the kiss of a bitter tang. After another gulp of water, it slid down uninterrupted.

“Somebody’s parched,” Negan remarked. “Never seen you take my seed that eagerly.”

You gave him a hearty middle finger, to which he scoffed amusedly and disappeared a short distance into your offside en-suite. “How hot?” He called back to you. “Three quarters to the hottest?”

“Sounds right,” you called back to him. “And add the bath oils, too!”

“Useless shit.”

“Let a girl indulge, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, settling against the mattress while you listened to the sound of the drawing bath. You noted the calm of the weather beyond the window, where a barely perceptible drizzle thrummed down gently.

It wasn’t long before Negan reappeared at your side, Lucille carefully discarded onto the foot of the bed before he inched his way onto the mattress and you felt his frame curl around your backside. Heat radiated from his body and flushed your back with a sense of comfort, his lips then finding the nape of your neck. He pressed a kiss there, his hand gently curling around your abdomen, as though he knew to take precaution around your sensitive area.

You shifted your neck away from his teasing lips, casting him a glance over your shoulder. “Why are you doing this?” You felt compelled to ask—this tender facade of his was disconcerting.

Negan’s held your stare levelly. “You’re my wife,” he stated simply. “A real man takes care of his wife.”

“Yeah, but that’s not real,” you said. “None of this is real—it’s all a made up, a twisted way for you to pass time. Us wives? We’re nothing but entertainment to you—so why all this effort?”

There was a brief pause from his side before he answered you with a sense of solemnity that you’d never truly seen him possess. “I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” He asked. “Hell, I know what desperation feels like. She’s a stone cold bitch, and you were nothin’ more than a husk of a person when we picked you up in those woods. You’re a fighter—death ain’t got a fuckin’ lead on you. I mean, shit, that deserves some respect—and I give that only where it’s due. So, call it respect, call it whatever you’d like, but just take the goddamn win, won’t ya?”

You listened intently, an emotion of something other than annoyance settling within your chest at his somewhat glorified image of you. For the first time ever, you didn’t know how to respond. It was easy to strike back when most of the conversation shared between the two of you was shallow, bitter banter, but as of this moment, this situation-ship was starting to feel as though the foundation was being built on something other than debt, and that thought was daunting.

“Bath should be drawn by now,” you said eventually, settling your head back into the pillow, glad to displace the view of Negan’s face.

The hand at your abdomen slid away as he lifted himself up with a grunt of effort. “Then you best go and dip your toes,” he said.

You took a moment to heave a breath before rolling over and sitting yourself up from the bed, to which Negan stepped a pace back to allow you the room to stand up. You straightened from the mattress that had held you captive for the entirety of the morning, offering Negan a long stare, who returned it with a grin that felt as though your thoughts were transparent to him.

You shouldn’t, but you wanted to. Fuck it, you would—you’d said it yourself, nothing left to lose, right? You brushed past him and hoisted a beckoning hand over your shoulder, followed by a sparse, cheeky glance.

“Come with me,” you told him.

“I like the sound of that,” Negan chuckled, trailing after you with a confident charisma. “Looks like I’m gettin’ that show after all.”

“Shut up about it.”

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Tags: @bohemianblasphemy @violent-darkness @gibson-g1rl

[hanniebaeee]

Wild Hearts

Lee Minho x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut MDNI, lots of kissing

Genre: smut, fluff

Summary: Minho takes you camping - you both love the outdoors, and it's something you bond over. What you don't know is that he has more in store for you than just camping.

You smiled in excitement as Minho parked the car and got your things. It was a beautiful summer day and the sky was a crisp blue, with the sun casting a warm golden glow on the scenery in front of you.

'Oh my God, Lino!! This is so beautiful!' You squeal in delight, making him smile.

Minho had been in charge of planning the whole camping trip, and he had chosen a secluded spot by a lake, surrounded by towering pine trees and pretty wildflowers, away from the city. The air felt so much fresher and the earthy scent of pine was so refreshing.

You carry some of your camping supplies as you follow your boyfriend to the campsite. Taking in the pristine surroundings with wide eager eyes, you completely smitten with Minho's choice. This makes Minho laugh affectionately.

'Why don't you take look around? I'll take care of this.' He said, setting everything down.

'Are you sure?' You asked, already reaching for your camera.

'Of course, baby.' He said, pulling you in for a kiss. 'Don't wander too far, ok?'

With a quick nod, you are on your way to explore your surroundings. You make sure to stay close, and find yourself looking back to where Minho stood, working on setting up the tent. Your heart swelled with love as you watched him.

He had been finding it very difficult to take time off to be with you. His busy schedules had him in a tight spot, not to mention splitting his free time among you and his family. It had been getting harder and harder until finally he snapped and demanded a whole week off. He spent the first few days with his family, and took that time to plan a nice camping holiday for the two of you.

Minho moved around with ease, setting up the tent and then pulling out the foldable chairs and a little foldable table where he set up some of his cooking things. You took a few pictures of him, smiling so much as you thanked the universe for giving you this precious man.

You dropped your idea of exploration and returned to Minho, who was now chopping up some veggies and bringing out some marinated chicken from a cooler. The sizzle of vegetables and chicken filled the air, making your mouth water.

Minho had discarded his jacket, and was now in his white tshirt and jeans, looking absolutely breath taking.

'What is it?' He asked, adding some herbs to the food. 'You're staring.'

'Can't I admire my pretty boyfriend?' You ask, cheeks colouring in embarrassment at being caught. 'What can I do if you look so good?'

Minho just shook his head with a little chuckle, holding his hand out to you. You rush to his side, arms going around his waist, head resting on his chest.

'Lunch is almost ready.' he said. 'Hope you're hungry.'

'I'm starving!' You said, placing a small kiss on his chest.

You help him set up the table, and he serves you the most delicious chicken and veggies you've ever eaten. You eat in a comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the woods, enjoying the calm of nature.

Cleaning up was quick, and though the long drive and hearty meal had you drowsy, Minho wanted to take a walk. He held your hand as you walked along the lake. At one point, you let go of his hand and quickly take off your shoes. The water felt too cold for a swim, but you still dip your feet in, pulling him with you.

You moan in contentment as the cold water swallows your hot feet up and Minho gives you a teasing look.

'What? That felt good!' You said, splashing some water at him.

'I have an idea about something that'll feel even better.' He said, inching towards you slowly.

You giggle as he put his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest. Tipping your head up, he kissed you. A soft, but deep one. You feel his tongue in your bottom lip and you open your mouth, moaning softly as his tongue slipped in. You felt the world around you fade away as you lost yourself in him.

Pulling back, your eyes locked with his and you say, 'I love you.'

'I love you too, baby.' He said, hugging you again. 'So much.'

You took a bite of the masterpiece he had created, and you laugh as the chocolate dripped down your lips and chin. You try to wipe them off and just get chocolate on your hands and fingers as well. Minho didn't miss the chance to attach his lips yours, lapping up all the stray chocolate. You had turned a deep shade of pink by then, your heart racing at the way he was looking at you. He brings your fingertips to his mouth, sucking at them, one by one.

The sunset was beautiful, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange. You took some pictures as Minho made a small campfire. He sat near it, making s'mores for you. He hands you marshmallows to toast, only to narrow his eyes at you playfully for eating them. You took a hundred pictures of everything he did, as he pampered you to no end.

The night grew darker, and the stars emerged, twinkling like tiny diamonds in the sky. Everything looked so much more beautiful here, and you felt so grateful to be sharing this moment with Minho.

After putting your things away, Minho suggested getting ready for bed. As you cleaned up and brushed your teeth, he set up the tent with fluffy blankets and your sleeping bag. You are both a smiling blushing mess as you change into your night clothes within the tent.

It was so quiet except for the gentle sounds of the forest. It seemed to be lulling you to sleep. Minho pulled you close, kissing the top of your head.

'Thank you for this, Lino. Today was just perfect.' You mumble, and he hummed, placing a few more kisses on your forehead.

Inside a warm cocoon of your blankets, Minho laid you down, while his lips attached to yours. Kissing and nibbling down your neck, Minho quickly pulled your night shirt off. You make it faster by pulling your clothes out of the way and he worked on his clothes. His hands reached every curve and inch of your body (so did his mouth). Your breath quickened as his kisses grew desperate and sloppy. You gasp as you feel his warm mouth around your nipples, sucking and licking at them. He switched from soft to rough so quick, you were panting for air.

His hand disappeared between your legs and the sudden explosion of pleasure, as he reached all the sweet spots had you whining.

'Baby, please, I need you-' you whisper, grabbing his arm tightly.

'Yeah?' He asked, voice thick with desire. 'Where do you want me, hm?'

'Please, Minho!' you whimper, and you fall apart completely as he sucks on your nipple noisily.

Your entire body was vibrating with need and he had you teetering on the edge.

'Please-' you beg again, and he nodded quickly, getting in between your legs. Adjusting you according to his need, he pushed into you in one go.

You cried out in surprise, and he chuckled.

Your connection was electric, and you were literally melting into him. He moved gently at first, and then lost all control over the situation, slamming into you. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure, each time he was in you and out of you.

You shudder and shake aa you reach your high, and he held you tightly through it, not stopping his movement. And you clenched around him, tipping him off to his own release. Minho groaned as he came, laying his head on your chest, and staying in you.

'Oh fuck.' Was all he could say. You put your arms around him, holding him as close to you as you could.

'I love you, baby. I can't wait to get married. I can't wait to start a family with you.' He murmured sleepily and if you thought any other moment from your trip was the most memorable, then you change your mind. Because this was everything.

'I love you too, baby.' You reply and your voice is a soft echo in your warm and cosy tent.

You both drift off to sleep, completely exhausted, but in the most blissful way. The next morning, when you wake up, you hear sounds outside the tent. Minho is not beside you, so you peek through the little window and find him getting breakfast ready. Dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, he looked so cute with his untidy hair and sleepy face.

You smile and plop down on the sleeping bag, stretching your arms and legs. You wince at your achy legs and decide to be a bit dramatic.

'Linooooo!' you call out, and you hear his footsteps approach the tent. Sticking his head in, he gives you a grin.

'Good morning, princess.' He cooed, sitting near the entrance.

'My legs hurt.' You say, pouting.

'Aww, do they?' He asked, lifting your leg and placing a trail of soft kisses from your ankle to your knee.

You shiver at that and pull your leg back, realizing that you were completely naked. Pulling the blanket around you, you try to hide how much his presence actually affected you. But Minho being Minho, was always one step ahead of you.

He gripped at your blanket tightly, pulling at them slightly and said, 'What are you hiding that I haven't already seen?'

'Minho!' You hiss, and gulp as he moves in, and hovers over you.

Pressing a soft kiss on your lips, he said, 'I've never been so in love, baby. You drive me insane.'

There was nothing you could say at that moment, so you put your arms around his neck, pulling him on top of you, and kissing him. He moaned, and before you know it, he was inside you (again) and the rest is history.

You two sit and sip on coffee, grinning at each other. Minho fried eggs and sausages for breakfast, and your tummy rumbled as you eyed the food greedily.

'Wow, how hungry are you?' Minho teased, as he toasted some bread.

'Well, you should know that you tire me out. I need my energy.' You snap at him and he laughs such a loud hearty laugh, it fills your heart.

There is a few seconds of silence before he speaks again.

'So I tire you out, in a good way I hope, but I also cook for you, take you on awesome holidays, take you camping, give you the best orgasms...does that make me husband material?' He asked, so casually, it has you choking on your coffee.

'Of course, I'd marry you right now if I could.' You said, trying to act unbothered by his question.

'That's good. So if I propose to you now, you would say yes?' Minho asked, as he plated some food for you.

You stare at him, your heartbeat picking up speed. When you're silent for a while, he looks up and says, 'Just, just aski-'

'Minho, my answer will always be a yes for you. No matter when or where.' You said, shaking your head at his silly questions.

Minho looks at you, a small smile spreading on his headsome face.

'Yeah?'

'Yeah.'

'In that case, you'll have to make do with this for now. 'Cos I am still planning a proper prosoal.' Minho said casually, pulling out a little velvet box from his pocket.

Your eyes are so wide, and your mouth falls open as he gets on his knees and presents you with the prettiest little ring you've ever seen. A simple platinum one, with a pretty heart shaped diamond in the center. It shimmered beautifully as the sunlight fell on it.

'I wanted to do this today, right here, because this is something we both love and enjoy. And, it's just the two of us, away from everything else.' Minho said, taking your hand in his. 'You make me so happy, baby. I don't know how I got so lucky.'

You're already crying. You knew that you two would definitely end up getting married, but this was totally unexpected. You should have known, considering how adamant he was about making this trip work and all the extra preparations that he had done.

'Y/N, you're everything I could ever ask for. You already make me the happiest man in the world, but I would be happier if you say yes right now. So, Y/N, will you marry my?' Minho asked, and seeing him on his knee, asking you to marry him, your heart soars.

'Yes yes yes!!' You cry, throwing your hands around his neck and hugging him.

Minho chuckled, and quickly slipped the ring on your finger and kissed it tenderly.

'Baby, I can't wait for you to be my wife. I just can't wait to wake up next to you everyday. Thank you for being mine. I love you so much.' He said, cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissing your forehead.

'I don't need another proposal, Minho. I love this. This is so so sweet!' You said, as you two have your food.

'Uh, no.' said Minho, 'Like I said, you deserve the best. And I already have some ideas. Besides, boys will kill me if I don't plan one with them. They feel like this should be a group task for some reason. They love you, baby, and I think we should let them do this. Ok? It will be great. Just you wait.'

You nod and smile at how cute he and his boys were. And you left lucky to be accepted and loved by them all.

You and Minho are all smiles, and under the canopy of trees, whispering and dancing in the wind, you realize that you've found something as beautiful and endless as the nature you both admire.

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap six/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

I Don’t Know You, But I Want To

summary: Sometimes curiosity has consequences.

wc: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ series for future chapters, mentions of death, hints on how Steve’s wife died, bouts of self consciousnesses.

authors note: sorry guys, you knew this chapter had to happen. i promise i’ll make up for it! enjoy a few more easter eggs from @carolmunson ‘s orange colored sky in here. I’ve had so much fun talking about these two old men’s friendship with you!

🌇 <- chapter five -> chapter seven

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

End of June

You didn’t realize when Steve asked you to water his plants, that he meant in just three short days after the almost kiss in his kitchen. The opposite schedules the two of you seem to always work made it so you hardly got a glimpse of him before he and Bandit disappeared to Starved Rock for what you learned was their annual camping trip.

The Good Morning Tough Girl texts started the next day after your number exchange, waking you up with a kaleidoscope of butterflies twisting and turning in your stomach and a smile so big it made your cheeks hurt. It helped you get over only getting to physically see him one time through your living room window before he left. Your phone had vibrated at your feet while you watered your now flourishing Ivy thanks to the new curtains you were proud to say were installed by yourself. You chanced a glance down at your lit up screen, his name flashing with a text that said: How’d I never realize how pretty my view is from the front yard?

The corners of your mouth twitched, flames licking underneath your cheeks when your eyes caught his out your window. The big dopey smile that took over his face made you giggle as he waved eagerly, dressed nice like he had been the morning you ran into him last week. You wiggled your fingers, biting your bottom lip at the way his dark navy button up looked tucked into the waist of his black slacks. The leather belt looked nicer than the last one, the silver of the buckle blinding in the setting sun. His hair was freshly done, free of any signs of those big hands of his. The stubble on his jaw was gone again, but you learned that was never for very long. 

Another buzz: Going to dinner with a client, wish it was fish tacos with you instead.

Steve feels like he won the lottery when he can see the way your face lights up from his spot in his front yard. Eddie’s voice rings loudly inside his head, sticking to every single one of his negative thoughts like glue telling him it’s okay and he finally starts to believe it, especially when he gets a text back from you.

Maybe next time 😉

It’s thunderstorming the day you go over, the key tucked away in a lockbox by his door. He gave you access by texting the code the night before with a promise to take you to dinner as a thank you when he got back. The nerves that dance inside you feel like they did the first time you came here when you stand in front of the stained glass of his front door even though he’s five hours away. 

It’s quiet, the lively energy from a few nights ago gone with the man. The cedar of his candle still lingers thick in the air and you can’t help but inhale deeply. It smells like him. You leave your shoes and umbrella on his front porch, closing the door gently like you were scared to wake someone up. The pattering of the rain on his windows fills the silence, your shoulders dropping in the serenity. Pulling your phone from your back pocket you look through your texts with the list of the rooms the plants were in. 

Only three — his office and living room on the first floor and his bedroom on the second.  

The coffee white oak floors creak under your socked feet as you take your first apprehensive steps past the entryway. He left the watering can on the kitchen island just like he said he would, your skin pebbles when you’re brought back to the last time you were in here. The sun fights to shine through the thick storm clouds outside, making the lighting that bleeds through his windows soften everything up. The water from the sink hits the metal of the can, mixing perfectly with the rain. 

You wish he was here.

The can is heavy in your hands when you stop at the doorway of the living room, the contents inside sloshing around and daring to spill onto his floor. You curse under your breath with a pause to take in the room you only got a glimpse of before. There’s an electric fireplace, tall black steel that takes up most of the wall next to the sliding glass door that leads to his small backyard. 

Two large beige area rugs cover most of the wood floors in here, a cream frayed trim lining them. Bandit’s bed sits big, fluffy and dark brown nestled by the fireplace, giving him a perfect view out the window. Strands of his lighter hairs leave behind evidence that this might be his favorite spot in the house. A woven basket filled with various chew toys that look freshly tossed in isn’t very far from it. The rain comes down harder but you can still see the spots of lime green littering the grass where the rambunctious German shepherd left his tennis balls. Spoiled.

The cognac color of his leather couch set is rich, and it shines even in the dim lighting like it was freshly lotioned. It looks like the kind of comfortable where the cushions mold against the weight of your body - soft, inviting, the one in the middle looking a little more worn in than the rest. This must be Steve’s favorite spot. 

Your eyes meet the 65” TV mounted to the wall in front of it and realize why. The coffee table matches the dark color of the floors. The candle that was the culprit for the smell of his house sitting in the middle next to three remotes lined perfectly next to each other.

There’s a long, taller companion table that sits at the other doorway that leads back out to the landing of his staircase. Framed pictures, bottles of various liquors of all shades and crystal cocktail glasses cover the top of it. 

What does he think of your place?

You try to push the intrusive thought down as you make your way to the lush Monstera plant that sits in a white pot on top of wooden legs next to the sliding glass door. Its leaves hang heavy, clearly taken care of. The deep emerald of it reminds you of what Steve’s eyes look like sometimes. The soil takes what you give it greedily, barely leaving enough for the few smaller plants that rest on shadow shelves along his gray walls. A few of them make you stand on your tiptoes to reach.

Curiosity wins on your way to refill the can, crossing the room to look at the framed pictures. You aren’t surprised when you see one of Eddie and Bandit as a puppy, it looks like the first day they brought him home. Eddie’s dimples show in a bright smile as he looks at the camera with Bandit’s big bubble gum pink tongue pressed sloppily against a clean shaven cheek.

The other is of Steve and a curly haired boy at a college graduation, they both look like they were caught in the middle of laughing at something. You can’t help your own smile when you look at it. Steve looks a little younger, a little less gray in his hair like it had only just started. He’s wearing wire rim glasses, and that crisp white dress shirt you like him in so much. He looks happy.

The last one is of Steve and Bandit. A selfie taken at sunrise, Bandits tongue sticks out and you swear he’s smiling just like his handsome owner that has him pulled against his side. A part of a tent peaks over his shoulder and you wonder if this is where they’re at right now.

You’re hit with the smell of his cologne when you open his office door, your thighs pressing together when you imagine him sitting in the big black leather chair behind an even bigger, matching colored desk. Glass cased baseball memorabilia takes space on one of his walls, along with plaques of achievements from his job. There’s framed pictures of him shaking hands of baseball players you couldn’t name, but you’re sure a normal person who liked sports could. There’s a tall bookshelf on the other side of the room. The spines all glossed, bright bold wording of sports memoir’s, marketing guides, and what looks like college course advertising books.

The floor of this room is carpeted with the same color as the area rugs in his living room. Your footsteps are a little more careful as you try not to spill any water on it as you make your way to the three hanging spider plants in the window that overlooks his front yard. 

Your nose catches a hint of the cigars you know he smokes as you get closer to his desk. He must keep them in here. A silver closed MacBook sits on top of it, another baseball — only this one is signed and kept safe in a glass case. There's a Polaroid of Bandit with a cubs hat on his head with a laughing Peach barely visible behind him. The obvious closeness of the three of them makes you realize how much he let you into his world the other night. 

A world where he wanted to kiss you.

You curse under your breath when you almost spill water on the carpet, too lost in realization of what this could be.

When you reach your final destination on the second floor, you stop at his closed door. Your hand hovers over the knob, heart hammering so hard in your chest like he was waiting for you on the other side. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you exhale through your lips - willing your nerves to give you mercy. There’s a soft click when you turn the knob and the quietest noise from the hinges when you push it open.

The crisp white of his fluffy duvet that covers his king size bed, mutes the gray of his walls. The olive green throw at the end of it that matches the area rug under the bed, the warmth of the color relaxes your senses. Your breathing evens out, your heart rate slows down. 

There’s another dog bed at the foot of his that matches the one downstairs and you wonder how often Bandit really sleeps in this one at night. The lack of hair on it compared to the other one tells you not very often. Your cheeks tingle fiercely when you see the mirror you got a glimpse of his bare chest through, your eyes quickly finding the bathroom he had come out of. 

“Jesus Christ,” you grumble to yourself, trying to push back the memory while standing alone in his bedroom. 

There’s another Monstera by his window that you can see your bedroom out of. The last one on the list. You have to pass by another large dresser on your way, even more pictures sit on top of it, taking up the space that was left next to a cherry wood watch box. Another cedar candle sits behind the framed pictures, the scent lingering in the air despite not being lit.

The plants take what’s left in the watering can, and you peek out the window just to see what he sees. The navy curtains you’d hung up are half open giving you a perfect glimpse into your room, the pile of dirty laundry you plan to do after this perfectly visible. You gulp audibly.

The can swings loosely in your hand when you walk to the dresser, a smirk already forming on your lips at the thought of what these ones will tell you about him. Your eyes land on one of him in between Eddie and Peach on what seems to be their wedding day, both of them placing sloppy kisses on either cheek. The big dopey grin face doesn’t hide the tear stains. The White Chapel sign behind them tells you it’s Vegas, and the way Steve is dressed as a much sexier Elvis only confirms your suspicions. 

Next to that one is a picture of Steve, only he looks really young- fresh out of high school young. Biting your lip into a smile at the volume of his hair, he’s leaning against a maroon BMW with pants so tight you're sure they made all the girls flustered. You shake your head with a roll of your eyes before taking in the brown curly haired girl sticking her head out of the back seat window. Another girl with honey waves pushing her head out in the small space next to her, you swear you can hear the giggles that are so evident on their faces.

Thunder cracks loudly outside, bringing you back with a jump. You’re dreading the short walk home. You glance out the window wearily before bringing your attention back to the little bit of Steve scattered over the top of his dresser. Then you see it. You see her.

The frame that holds the picture is silver, the words ‘always and forever’ etched across the bottom. It’s taken somewhere tropical and Steve looks like he’s your age in it, his jaw somehow sharper, his hair blonder. His smile is so big it shows all of his teeth, a bright yellow short sleeve button up that makes his skin look golden. The top two buttons undone revealing the chest hair you’d gotten a few glimpses of. He’s glowing. 

She’s just as beautiful, big bright green eyes and dark chestnut hair that falls in effortless curls down to her chest. They look natural, like she didn’t have to do it herself. She’s tucked into his side in what looks like seats in the back of a boat, the coral dress that flows over the curves of her body makes your stomach turn. The big rock on her hand rested purposefully on his chest tells you exactly what this picture is.  

Jealousy twists green in a tight knot inside of you, guilt you weren’t expecting makes you feel nauseous when you see what’s hanging off the corner of the frame. A dark teal rubber bracelet with the words Team ALS Chicago 2022 in white font.

Lightning flashes white hot, making something gleam and catch in the corner of your eye from his watch box. Taking a closer look, the tightening of your chest at what you find makes the air leave your lungs all at once when you see their wedding rings tucked in between the soft white cushions inside the box. 

The reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks. Steve had a whole life before he met you. A life with someone beautiful, someone he didn’t fall out of love with, someone who didn’t break his heart, someone who, if things were different he’d still be with.

If you moved next door in that reality, you’d just be someone he’d maybe wave to from time to time, not paying any mind to the thirty year old girl already suffering through a midlife crisis next door. The girl who moved to the city with no friends and no plan. The college drop out. The opposite of the well put together woman that belonged hanging off his chest like that, with a ring on her finger that could pay off your credit card debt and then some.

How can you compete with a ghost? The nagging feeling that you’ll always be second best already stings and he hasn’t even picked you yet.

You try to blink away the tears that threaten to spill out, feeling stupid for being this upset over what started off as a silly crush, it really shouldn’t hurt this much. The cedar that comforted you feels like it's suffocating now. Like he’s here. The thought of bringing the watering can down doesn’t even cross your mind when you leave it on the dresser to make your escape.

The breath that comes out through trembling lips is shaky, still, you're proud of the fact that you haven’t cried yet. 

Tough girl. 

When you open the front door, it's windier than when you first got here, the sun starting its disappearing act for the moon. It makes the summer storm match the one brewing inside of you. You shove your feet into your shoes before pulling the door shut behind you. You lock the key back into the box, before grabbing your umbrella. Your vision goes blurry but you don’t give into it, telling yourself it’s stupid to be so upset. The buzz of your phone in your back pocket is what stops you from taking the first step off his porch. 

Steve

Found a spot with some service on our hike, just wanted to check in. Hope you got into the house okay. Bandit says he misses you.

The dam that you’d worked so hard to build breaks, tears falling down your face like the rain falling from the sky. You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand before you reply to him for what you tell yourself is the last time. It’ll hurt less like this, it’s better for both of you this way. At least that’s what you try to tell yourself before you hit send.

Plants are watered 👍

beta’d by: @superblysubpar

dividers by @newlips

chapter seven

[reidmarieprentiss]

Set 'Em Up, and Knock 'Em Down

Summary: Reader cheats on her partner, then meets Spencer and strikes up a fwb situationship. He wants more, she won't allow it.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut (18+) with plot, angst !!, comfort

Warnings/Includes: reader's sexuality is undefined -- the only partner she has with specified pronouns is spencer, smut (18+) additonal warnings under the cut, fwb, commitment issues, insecure reader, anxiety, (un)requited feelings, reader cheats on her ex, both of them are in love but reader won't admit it, heartbreak, alcohol consumption, supportive team, angry emily prentiss

Word count: 14.8k

a/n: this is so angsty hahah i live for the angst ,, this was also entirely inspired by love you like a sailor by @reidmania pleasee check them out they are one of my favorite authors on this app !!!

main masterlist

Additional warning: oral (m&f receiving), fingering, unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it), nipple play, slight sub Spencer, mild choking, pet names

Y/N stirred awake, blinking against the unfamiliar light streaming through the thin curtains of her new apartment. The ceiling above her was stark white, a blank canvas that mirrored her current state of mind. Disoriented, she tried to gather her thoughts, but they scattered like leaves in the wind. It had only been a week since her partner had thrown her out, and the reality of her new life was still sinking in.

She sat up in her new bed, the wrought-iron frame creaking beneath her. The intricate designs on the bed's soft cream paint seemed almost out of place in this fresh start, a relic of a life she was trying to leave behind.

The room was sparsely furnished, just a few essentials she had managed to gather in the short time since she had left. The large windows behind her bed let in plenty of natural light, giving the room a bright and airy feel. The wooden plank floor gave the room a warm and rustic touch, grounding her in this new reality.

Y/N sighed, pushing aside the bedding and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. The cold floor was a stark reminder of her new circumstances. She needed to start her day, to find some semblance of routine in this new, chaotic chapter of her life. She padded over to the bathroom, still not used to the cold floor on her once warm feet. Turning on the shower, she stepped in, letting the warm water cascade over her.

As the water washed over her, she couldn’t help but think back to that night. It was a night like any other: her partner was away on another work trip, leaving Y/N alone once again. The loneliness was suffocating, and she had gone out with friends, desperate for some semblance of normalcy and connection. The bar was lively, filled with laughter and chatter that provided a temporary escape from her solitude.

Then she met them—a charming stranger who paid her the kind of attention she had been starved of for so long. Their eyes never left hers, and their words were filled with warmth and interest. She felt seen, heard, and wanted. In that moment of weakness, she indulged. Their conversation turned into a night together, a decision she regretted the moment the sun began to rise.

Y/N shook off the memory and leaned her head against the cool tiles. She missed her partner, missed the life they had built together. The friends they once shared that her partner got in the breakup. The shower was her sanctuary, a place where she could let her emotions flow freely. Tears mingled with the water as she stood there, trying to wash away the guilt and the regret. But no matter how much she scrubbed, the weight of her actions remained.

The argument had escalated quickly, emotions running high. Y/N’s pleas for understanding were met with cold rejection. In the end, she was left standing alone, her partner’s words echoing in her mind: “I want you out. I’ll be home by the end of the week, you need to be gone by then.”

With a deep breath, she turned off the water and stepped out, wrapping herself in a towel. Today was a new day, and she had to find a way to move forward, no matter how daunting it seemed.

—

Sitting in her cubicle one month later, Y/N was absorbed in her work when a familiar head of hair popped over the top. It was Alice.

"Hi, Y/N!" Alice greeted with her usual enthusiasm.

"Hi, Alice. How are you?" Y/N responded, slightly taken aback by the unexpected visit.

"I'm good! I was wondering if you had any plans tonight?"

Y/N was a little confused. She didn’t have any plans, but she had also never been invited to hang out by anyone from work before. They were all a bit clique-y. And while Alice had always been very sweet, she herself had her own group with Charlie and Taylor.

"Uh, no. No, I don’t. What's up?" Y/N asked, trying to mask her surprise.

"Well… Charlie, Taylor, and I are going to get drinks tonight at The Thirsty Felon. Would you want to come with us?"

"Oh, sure. Thank you for the invite," Y/N replied, feeling a mix of apprehension and excitement.

"Great! We’ll see you there at 7," Alice said with a bright smile before disappearing back over the cubicle wall.

Y/N sat back in her chair, processing the unexpected invitation. Maybe, she thought, this could be a step towards making new friends and finding a new sense of belonging. For the first time in weeks, she felt a glimmer of hope.

—

Spencer sat at the bar, visibly uncomfortable, his eyes darting around the dimly lit room. He leaned closer to JJ, who was sipping her drink and looking far more relaxed than he felt.

"JJ, you dragged me out to a bar called The Thirsty Felon. I could be at home watching the new Doctor Who episode," Spencer complained, his voice tinged with frustration. "Do you even know what we do for a living?"

JJ chuckled and shook her head. "Spence, you need to get out more. It's just a bar. Besides, you can't spend every night at home watching TV. You need to socialize a bit."

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I socialize plenty... at work."

JJ gave him a sympathetic look. "Look, I know it's not your scene, but sometimes it's good to step out of your comfort zone. You might actually have fun."

Spencer raised an eyebrow skeptically but didn't argue further. As he took a reluctant sip of his drink, he couldn't help but feel a bit anxious about being in such an unfamiliar setting.

The Thirsty Felon was a typical dive bar, with its worn pool tables under vintage Coors lamps and a jukebox that Penelope was enthusiastically feeding quarters into. Morgan and Emily were at one of the pool tables, engaged in a friendly yet competitive game. The walls were adorned with retro beer signs, and the air was filled with a mix of laughter, clinking glasses, and classic rock tunes.

Despite the casual and lively atmosphere, Spencer felt out of place. He watched as Morgan took a shot, sinking a ball into the corner pocket, and Emily clapped in appreciation. Penelope, meanwhile, was bouncing slightly to the beat of the music she had just selected, her face lit up with a bright smile.

JJ nudged Spencer, drawing his attention back to her. "Come on, Spence. Just relax and try to have a good time. We're all here together, and that's what matters."

Spencer managed a small smile, appreciating JJ's effort to include him. "Alright, I'll try," he conceded, though he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd rather be home with his favorite TV show.

— 

Y/N sat in a booth with her coworkers, Alice, Charlie, and Taylor. They were clearly close friends, sharing inside jokes and laughing heartily. Y/N tried to listen and catch on, but it was difficult when they basically had their own language. She felt like an outsider, longing to be part of their camaraderie but unsure how to break in. After a while, she excused herself to go get another drink at the bar, hoping a moment alone might help her gather her thoughts.

As she approached the bar, she found herself standing next to a man who seemed equally out of place. Spencer Reid sat there, looking around nervously. JJ had just left to dance by the jukebox after being dragged over by Penelope, leaving Spencer all by himself. When he felt the presence of someone next to him, he turned, expecting it to be JJ.

“About time you came back, I was getting ready to—” he began, his expression softening as he saw Y/N instead.

“To what?” Y/N asked, curiosity piqued.

“Leave,” Spencer finished, somewhat sheepishly.

“Oh, well, don't let me stop you. I wouldn't mind leaving myself,” Y/N admitted with a hint of a smile.

“Not having fun?” Spencer asked, sensing a kindred spirit.

“More like witnessing others have fun and not knowing how to join,” Y/N said, her eyes reflecting a mix of longing and isolation.

“I… completely understand what you mean. I just haven’t been able to explain it before,” Spencer replied, offering her a kind smile. “I’m Spencer.”

“Y/N,” she responded, her tone unintentionally cold. She didn’t feel that she was worthy of the time of someone who looked so sweet, not after what she did.

Spencer, however, seemed undeterred by her tone. He saw something in her eyes that mirrored his own feelings of displacement. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said sincerely.

She nodded, knowing he wouldn’t think that if he knew. Luckily, she didn’t have to say anything as the bartender came over and took her order. However, when she went to pay, Spencer cut her off.

“I got it, you can put it on my tab, R-e-i-d,” he spelled out for the bartender.

“Oh no, I can’t let you do that. That's too nice,” Y/N protested, feeling guilty.

“It’s my pleasure. I hope your night gets better,” Spencer said with a gentle smile.

“Uh, yeah, thank you. You too,” she replied, her voice softer now.

As she turned around to leave the bar with her drink, Y/N noticed her coworkers stumbling out of the bar in a pile of giggles. They obviously forgot in their drunken states that they had a fourth party with them. With a big sigh, Y/N turned back around and sat in the seat next to Spencer at the bar.

“Back so soon?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

“My group just left,” she explained, a touch of frustration in her voice.

“Without you?” Spencer asked, clearly surprised.

“It would appear so,” Y/N confirmed, trying to hide her disappointment.

“Oh, I’m sorry. If you don't mind me saying so, they don't sound like very good friends,” Spencer said, his brow furrowing in concern.

“No, that's fine. They’re just my coworkers,” Y/N clarified, taking a sip of her drink.

“Well, that's good, I suppose. Um, I’m here with my coworkers too if you want to stay with us,” Spencer offered, his voice filled with genuine kindness.

Y/N knew she shouldn’t accept such a kind offer, but he was just so pretty with his big, hopeful brown eyes, and pushed back, silky hair, and god, those adorable glasses.

“Yeah, okay, thanks,” she managed a small smile, feeling a warmth spread through her that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Spencer and Y/N chatted for a while, their conversation flowing effortlessly. After some time, Y/N started to get antsy and asked, “Do you want to play pool?”

Spencer hesitated. He knew he wasn’t good at pool, but he agreed anyway because he’d never had a girl talk to him for this long outside of work or school. “Sure, why not,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

As they approached the pool table, they found Derek and Emily still playing. Derek raised an eyebrow at Spencer, smirking knowingly.

“Since when do you play pool, Pretty Boy?” Derek teased.

“Shut up,” Spencer mumbled, his face flushing slightly as Derek laughed and patted him on the back.

Derek then leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Maybe you can get her to show you some moves.”

Spencer blushed profusely and shoved him away with a bashful smile. When he turned back, he saw Y/N racking the balls, her face in pure concentration. He found himself captivated by the sexy way she bit her tongue and furrowed her brow. Then she looked up and caught him staring. Shit.

Much to his relief, she didn’t say anything, just walked over to the cue sticks, turning them before finding the one she wanted. “Do you want to break, or me?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Uh, you, can you?” Spencer replied, a bit flustered.

Y/N nodded, smiling a bit as she realized Spencer must not have a lot of experience with pool. She lined up her shot, her movements fluid and confident. With a sharp crack, the balls scattered across the table, and she looked up at Spencer with a triumphant grin. He felt his pants get tighter and his IQ drop a significant amount.

“Your turn,” she said, handing him a cue stick.

Spencer took the stick and approached the table, trying to mimic her stance. He took a shot, but the cue ball barely nudged another ball.

“It’s okay,” Y/N said encouragingly. “Just take your time.”

As they continued playing, Spencer couldn’t help but notice how patient and kind Y/N was. Despite his lack of skill, she never made him feel embarrassed. Instead, she offered tips and gentle corrections, making the game more enjoyable.

At some point, after a few drinks, Y/N boldly stepped behind Spencer and put her hands on his hips, angling them before leaving one hand on his hip and placing the other on his back to bend him just so. Spencer was sure he was flushed head to toe, his mind reeling. He liked that she was manhandling him. And in public, no less. 

Derek and Emily’s mouths were open, watching the scene unfold with a mix of surprise and amusement. Y/N then leaned forward and traced her hand down Spencer's arm, showing him how to hold the cue stick properly. Her touch was firm yet gentle, and Spencer's heart raced.

“Breathe in and out with me,” she instructed softly. Spencer focused on matching her breaths, trying to calm his nerves. When he finally took the shot, the ball rolled smoothly and made it into the pocket.

Spencer was so excited that he turned around without thinking and kissed Y/N. 

The kiss was quick, a spontaneous burst of joy, but it sent a jolt of electricity through both of them. Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, and Spencer immediately stepped back, his face turning a deep shade of red.

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” Spencer stammered, mortified.

Y/N blinked, then schooled her features. “Uh, it’s fine,” she said somewhat distantly, her pink cheeks the only thing giving her away.

“I don’t know what came over me, I’ve never done something like that before. You’re just so pretty and helpful—I—I’m sorry.”

“I said it’s fine. Let’s just finish the game,” she replied, trying to move past the awkward moment.

So they did, albeit a bit awkwardly. After Y/N sunk the 8-ball, she looked to Spencer to say goodnight.

“Wait, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” she asked, turning to face him.

“I’m really sorry if I ruined things or made you feel uncomfortable,” he said, taking a stabilizing breath. “But I had a lot of fun tonight, and I would love to see you again.”

“Spencer…”

“Oh, okay. You’re not interested, that’s okay,” he said quickly, his face falling.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just—I don’t really date,” she admitted, leaving out the part about her past relationship.

“Oh.”

“But if you wanted something casual, no strings attached, I could do that,” she offered.

“Oh, wow, okay, um, like sex?” he squeaked out, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Yes, Spencer, like sex,” she confirmed, her tone gentle.

“I mean, I’ve never had sex with someone I wasn’t dating before…”

“It’s okay, Spencer. It was just a suggestion. Goodnight,” she said, turning to leave.

“No!” Spencer blurted out, making Y/N turn back again.

“Can I at least get your number? So I can think about it?” he asked, his voice earnest.

Y/N smiled, feeling a bit of warmth spread through her. “Yeah, of course.” She took a napkin from the bar and scribbled her number on it, handing it to him. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Spencer said, holding the napkin like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“Goodnight, Spencer,” Y/N said softly, giving him one last smile before heading out.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied, watching her leave.

As Y/N walked away, Spencer stood there for a moment, processing what had just happened. He was still holding the napkin with her number on it, almost in disbelief.

“Did you just get her number, Pretty Boy?” Derek asked, sidling up next to him with a wide grin.

“Yeah, I did,” Spencer breathed, still somewhat dazed, leaving out the part about how and why he got her number.

“My man!” Derek exclaimed, clapping Spencer on the back with a hearty laugh. “Look at you, getting numbers and making moves!”

Spencer chuckled nervously, tucking the napkin safely into his pocket. “Thanks, Derek. It was... unexpected.”

Derek gave him a knowing look. “Well, you never know where things might lead. Just take it one step at a time.”

Spencer nodded, his mind racing with possibilities. He had a lot to think about, but for now, he was just happy to have made a connection with someone new. As he and Derek rejoined the group, Spencer couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement about what might come next.

—

Spencer did think about Y/N’s offer, but the BAU got called away on back-to-back cases, leaving him with little time to make a decision. Meanwhile, Y/N assumed he just didn’t want to turn her down outright and accepted that she wasn’t going to hear from him.

Three weeks after the night at the bar, Y/N received a text from an unknown number. Since she didn’t recognize it, she ignored it while she was at work. It wasn’t until later that evening, with a glass of wine in hand, that Y/N was scrolling through her phone and remembered the text. She opened it up to see a message from Spencer.

Hey Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t text you sooner. I got really busy with work. I’d like to take you up on your offer.

Y/N felt her pulse pick up, not believing what she was seeing. Good things didn’t happen to her anymore, not like this. Karma’s a bitch and all that. Still, she couldn’t refrain from teasing him.

Sorry… who is this?

There was a pause, and then her phone buzzed again.

It’s Spencer. From the bar? With the pool game?

She chuckled, enjoying the moment. 

Ohhh, right. The guy who needed help shooting pool. Got it.

Yes, that’s me. So, about your offer…

Y/N took a sip of her wine, her mind racing. She hadn't expected to hear from him, but now that she had, she couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement. She typed back quickly.

You still interested in something casual?

Yes, I am. If the offer still stands.

She smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her. Maybe good things could still happen, even if it only lasts for a little while.

It stands. When are you free?

I’m free this weekend. How about Saturday?

Saturday works. Let’s meet at your place around 7?

Y/N was nervous he wouldn’t want her to come over to his place, but she had decided not to allow anyone into her new apartment. She wanted to keep it just for herself, not wanting anyone to witness the vulnerability that comes with seeing someone's living space.

Sounds perfect. Looking forward to it.

She set her phone down after Spencer sent his address, her heart racing with anticipation. She had no idea where this would lead, but for the first time in a long time, she felt a sense of excitement.

—

The days leading up to Saturday passed in a blur of nerves and anticipation. Y/N spent extra time planning what to wear, what to say, and how to handle the evening. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this could be the start of something significant, even if it was meant to be casual. She wasn’t going to let herself get attached, but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy herself. 

When Saturday evening arrived, Y/N found herself standing outside Spencer’s apartment door at precisely 7 PM. She took a deep breath and knocked, her heart pounding in her chest.

Spencer opened the door almost immediately, looking slightly nervous but with a warm smile on his face. “Hey, Y/N. Come in.”

“Thanks,” she said, stepping inside. His apartment was neat and organized, except for the  stacks of books covering pretty much every surface. It felt welcoming, and she relaxed a little.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Spencer said, leading her to the living room where a bottle of wine and two glasses were waiting on the coffee table.

“Yup,” Y/N replied, glancing around at the books and knick-knacks that lined the shelves. The apartment felt cozy and lived-in.

Spencer poured them both a glass of wine and handed one to her. “I hope you like red,” he said, extending a glass to Y/N.

“Uh, yeah, I do, thanks.” Y/N accepted the glass and, feeling a sudden rush of nerves, downed it all in one go.

“Oh, good. Would you like some more?” Spencer asked, a bit surprised.

“Yeah, that would be great,” she replied. He poured her another glass, and she immediately downed it as well.

Spencer watched her with concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, then took a step closer to him. “Can I kiss you?”

“Already? I thought we could talk for a little bit,” Spencer said quietly, his voice gentle.

“I don’t really want to talk. I want to fuck,” Y/N said bluntly, her eyes locking onto his.

Spencer was taken aback by her bold words, but he supposed that was what their arrangement was supposed to be. He took a moment to gather himself, then nodded. “Okay.”

Y/N closed the distance between them, her hands reaching up to cup his face as she pressed her lips to his. The kiss was urgent, almost desperate, and Spencer responded in kind, his hands finding her waist.

The intensity of the moment took over, and soon they were moving together towards the bedroom. Spencer tried to keep his thoughts in order, but the feeling of Y/N’s body against his was overwhelming. He had never experienced anything like this before, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

As they reached the bed, Y/N pulled back for a moment, her eyes searching his. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” she asked, her voice softer now.

Spencer nodded, his heart racing. “Yes, I’m sure. I want this too.”

“Okay,” Y/N said, her voice steady but laced with urgency. She dropped to her knees in front of him.

Spencer let out a surprised gasp, not expecting things to move so quickly. Y/N immediately began unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down with practiced ease. Once they were around his ankles, he kicked them off, following her motions in a haze.

Y/N brought her hand up to palm over Spencer’s cock to make sure he was ready. His breath hitched at the sensation.

“Oh my god,” he murmured, his voice trembling with anticipation.

“Just Y/N,” she corrected, her tone firm yet teasing.

“Ungh,” Spencer groaned as Y/N licked above his waistband before dipping her fingers in and pulling off the last barrier.

The intensity of the moment left Spencer almost dizzy with desire. He couldn’t believe how quickly things had escalated, but he was too caught up in the sensations to overthink it. Y/N’s touch was electrifying, every movement sending waves of pleasure through him.

As Y/N continued licking her path downward, Spencer felt himself shaking in anticipation. 

Finally, Y/N licked Spencer's cock from root to tip and sucked him all the way down in one go. Spencer moaned wildly, not knowing what to do with his hands. He ended up tangling them in his own hair and pulling, the overwhelming sensations nearly too much to bear. Y/N didn't notice, and if she did, she didn't care. She bobbed her head and swirled her tongue around his length as a penance for all the wrong she’d done. This was her apology for not going on a date with him.

Her hand came up to cup his balls next, rolling them in her hand. Spencer had never had anyone touch his balls before. He tensed up and came in her mouth.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out, his voice shaky with a mix of embarrassment and relief.

Y/N pulled off and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, having swallowed during the surprise. “It's okay, Spencer. That’s kind of what I’m here for,” she chuckled softly, trying to ease his tension.

“But you didn’t get to… you know,” he stammered, feeling a twinge of guilt.

“Cum? It's just us, you can say it,” she replied, her eyes softening.

“You didn’t get to cum,” he repeated, the words feeling foreign yet necessary.

“I don’t need to,” Y/N said, her smile reassuring. She reached out and touched his arm gently. “We can try another time.”

Spencer looked at her, still catching his breath, and nodded. “Thank you,” he said earnestly, appreciating her more than he could express.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Can I use your bathroom? I’d like to clean up before I go home.”

“Huh? Yeah, it's down the hall to the right,” he replied, feeling a pang of dejection. “You’re going home already?”

“Spencer… this is just sex, nothing more. I thought you knew that,” Y/N said gently, trying to manage his expectations.

Spencer’s face fell, but he nodded in understanding. “I know, I just… I thought maybe we could talk after.”

Y/N sighed softly, feeling a mix of guilt and regret. “I don’t really do that. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”

“No, it’s okay,” Spencer said quickly, trying to hide his disappointment. “I understand.”

Y/N gave him a small, sad smile before heading to the bathroom. As she closed the door behind her, Spencer pulled his briefs on and sat on the edge of the bed, his mind racing. He had known what the arrangement was, but he couldn’t help the flicker of hope that had ignited within him.

When Y/N returned, she looked more composed. “Thank you for tonight, Spencer. I hope you understand.”

“Yeah, I do,” he said, forcing a smile. “Thank you too.”

She nodded, grabbing her things. “Take care, okay?”

“You too,” he replied, watching as she left his apartment. The door closed with a soft click, leaving Spencer alone in the quiet room.

He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The night had been incredible, but now he felt a strange emptiness. He knew he had to respect her boundaries, but part of him couldn’t help but wish for more.

—

Meanwhile, Y/N was having similar feelings as she made her way home. She had wanted to stay. She wanted to talk to Spencer about anything and everything, to learn all that there was to know about him. The connection she felt was undeniable, and she found herself longing for more than just the physical intimacy they shared.

But she knew that neither of them deserved that. She didn’t deserve someone as good-hearted as Spencer, and Spencer didn’t deserve someone who had cheated on their partner. The weight of her past mistakes bore heavily on her, and she couldn't bring herself to believe she was worthy of someone like him.

As she drove through the quiet streets, Y/N’s mind was filled with thoughts of Spencer. She remembered the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his interests, the way he smiled shyly, and the gentleness in his touch. 

When she finally reached her apartment, she sank onto the couch, her thoughts still racing. She poured herself a glass of wine, hoping it would calm her nerves, but it did little to ease the turmoil inside her.

Y/N knew she needed to protect Spencer, and to keep the walls up around herself to avoid hurting someone again. But part of her couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to let those walls down, to let someone like Spencer in.

As she sipped her wine, she made a silent vow to herself. She would keep her distance, for both their sakes. She would respect the boundaries they had set and try to move forward without letting her feelings get in the way.

But deep down, she knew it wouldn’t be easy. 

—

“Uhhhh, oh god Spencer! Oh please!” Y/N moaned, her voice filled with desperation.

Spencer hummed around her clit, the vibration adding an extra layer of sensation that sent shivers through her body. He increased the speed of his fingers, his movements precise and deliberate inside her, driving her closer to the edge.

Y/N's hands gripped the sheets tightly, her back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure coursed through her. “Spencer, I’m so close,” she gasped, her breath coming in ragged bursts.

Spencer didn’t let up, his focus entirely on her. He wanted to give her everything she needed, to make her feel as good as she had made him feel. He could feel her tensing around his fingers, her body trembling with the intensity of her impending release.

He released her clit from between his lips, licking down through her lips and laying his tongue flat before shaking his head back and forth rapidly. Y/N screamed in pleasure, feeling the friction of Spencer’s glasses brushing against her inner thighs. She had selfishly asked him to keep them on during their time together because he looked so sexy and nerdy, it turned her on to no end.

Spencer thought her scream was out of pain, and he went to pull back, worried he had hurt her. But Y/N, right on the edge, quickly put her hands in his hair and held his face to her core, guiding him back into place. Spencer moaned into her, the vibrations adding to her pleasure, and resumed his actions with renewed fervor.

Y/N's grip tightened in his hair as she felt herself teetering on the brink of ecstasy. Spencer’s relentless movements, combined with the sensation of his glasses against her skin, drove her wild. Every nerve ending in her body was on fire, and she could feel the tension building to an almost unbearable level.

With one final deep suck and push of his fingers he tipped her over the edge. Y/N cried out, her body convulsing as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. Spencer continued to move his fingers gently, prolonging her pleasure until she was completely spent.

As she came down from her high, Y/N looked at Spencer with a mix of awe and gratitude. “That was… something,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

“Something?” Spencer laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Mhm,” she mumbled, still catching her breath.

“Forget your words there?” he teased gently.

“Brain no work, can't think,” she replied, managing a small smile.

Spencer moved up beside her, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “I’ll give you a second,” he said softly, his eyes filled with warmth.

“Don’t do that,” Y/N said suddenly, her voice more serious.

“Do what?” Spencer asked, pulling back, concern etched on his face.

“Don’t kiss my forehead. That’s too intimate,” she explained, trying to maintain the boundaries she had set.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” he said, his expression falling slightly.

“Thanks,” she murmured, feeling a pang of regret. Now there was an awkward tension in the air.

“I’m gonna go pee,” Y/N said, needing a moment to herself.

When Y/N came back from the bathroom, Spencer was sitting on the bed in his briefs, no longer hard. He looked up as she entered, his face a mix of confusion and uncertainty.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the moment,” Y/N said, feeling the need to address the elephant in the room.

“No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have kissed you,” Spencer replied, looking down at his hands.

“Actually, I was thinking—we probably shouldn’t kiss at all. Not even on the lips, just to make sure we don’t blur any lines,” Y/N suggested, trying to establish clearer boundaries.

“Oh.” Spencer stared at the floor, processing her words. “Okay. That makes sense.”

Y/N could see the disappointment in his eyes, and it hurt her more than she wanted to admit. She took a deep breath and sat down next to him, reaching out to touch his arm lightly. “Spencer, I really do appreciate you. I just need to keep things simple.”

Spencer nodded, forcing a small smile. “I understand. We’ll keep it simple.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said softly, her heart heavy with the unspoken emotions between them. They had agreed to something casual, but the reality of maintaining that distance was proving to be more challenging than either of them had anticipated.

—

Y/N and Spencer continued their arrangement for about six weeks with no hiccups. It was easier to avoid wanting to hang out when Spencer was frequently gone on cases. Though it did remind Y/N of her last partner and why it didn’t work, only reaffirming why she and Spencer could never be together. She had no trust in herself anymore, so why should anyone else?

There was a dinner party at Rossi’s coming up that weekend, and Spencer really wanted to bring Y/N. Not only because he really liked her, despite saying he was okay with keeping it casual, but because the team kind of assumed they were dating.

He never told them they were dating, but he also didn’t correct their assumptions. Most of them were there to witness the night he met Y/N and to see her give him her number. They knew he texted her, and they also knew he had a special shine to him nowadays, so they put two and two together. Spencer wasn’t comfortable telling them the truth.

So, he called Y/N when he got back from his most recent case and asked.

“Hey, Y/N. It’s Spencer,” he started, trying to keep his nerves in check.

“Hey, Spencer. How are you?” Y/N replied, her voice warm.

“I’m good, thanks. I was wondering if you’re free this weekend,” he said, getting straight to the point.

“This weekend?” Y/N repeated, a hint of hesitation in her voice. “I think so. Why?”

“Well, there’s a dinner party at my coworker Rossi’s, and I was hoping you’d come with me,” Spencer said, his heart pounding.

“A dinner party?” Y/N asked, clearly surprised. “Spencer, you know we agreed to keep things casual.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “But I have to go, and... the team kind of assumes we’re dating.”

“You didn’t tell them the truth?” Y/N asked, a bit incredulous.

Spencer sighed. “I know I should have, but it’s complicated. They saw us together, and they’ve noticed a change in me, they’re all profiles, you know. I just... didn’t correct their assumptions, I don’t really need them knowing what I get up to on my own time.”

Y/N was silent for a moment, thinking. “Spencer, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Please, Y/N,” he pleaded. “Just this once. It would mean a lot to me.”

She sighed, feeling torn. She didn’t want to complicate things further, but she also didn’t want to disappoint him. “Okay, I’ll go,” she said finally.

“Really?” Spencer’s voice lit up with relief and excitement. “Thank you, Y/N. I promise it’ll be fun.”

“I hope so,” she said with a small smile. “I’ll see you this weekend then.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six,” he said, a wide grin spreading across his face.

As they hung up, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a mix of anticipation and dread. She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake, but for now, she would try to focus on enjoying the evening and supporting Spencer.

—

Saturday evening arrived, and Spencer picked Y/N up in his Volkswagen. She thought it was a very fitting car for him—practical, unassuming, yet with a certain charm.

As they drove to Rossi’s, the air was filled with a mix of anticipation and a hint of nervousness. Y/N turned to Spencer, deciding to break the silence. “So, how do you want me to behave tonight?”

Spencer glanced at her, a bit confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she said, playing with the hem of her dress, “how would you want your girlfriend to act? I mean, if I’m going to pretend to be your girlfriend, I should know what you expect.”

Spencer smiled, touched by her consideration. “Just be yourself, Y/N. I like you for who you are.”

She nodded, but inside, she felt a flutter of excitement. The prospect of acting like she was in a relationship, even if just for one evening, was thrilling. It had been so long since she had allowed herself to feel close to someone.

“Okay, but... should I hold your hand? Stand close to you?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

Spencer chuckled softly. “Sure, if that makes you comfortable. I don’t have any specific expectations.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her. “Alright. Just let me know if I do anything that feels too... girlfriend-y.”

“I will,” he promised, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

They arrived at Rossi’s house, which was already bustling with the team and a few other guests. Spencer parked the car and turned to Y/N. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied, taking a deep breath.

They walked up to the door, and Spencer rang the bell. Within moments, Rossi opened it, greeting them with a warm smile. “Spencer! And you must be Y/N. Come on in, everyone’s excited to meet you.”

Y/N gave him a polite smile and followed Spencer inside. The house was warm and inviting, filled with the sound of laughter and conversation. As they stepped into the living room, the rest of the team turned to greet them.

“Hey, Spencer! Y/N!” JJ called out, waving them over.

Y/N smiled nervously and followed Spencer’s lead. He gently took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as they approached the group.

“So, this is the famous Y/N we’ve heard so much about,” Derek said, giving her a friendly smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Y/N replied, feeling a bit more at ease.

As the night progressed, Y/N couldn’t help but steal glances at Spencer, feeling a mix of gratitude and something deeper she wasn’t ready to name. For now, she allowed herself to enjoy the moment, savoring the warmth of the evening and the connection she felt with Spencer, even if it was just pretend.

—

The evening was in full swing, with everyone mingling and enjoying the relaxed atmosphere. Y/N was feeling more comfortable as the night went on, especially with Spencer by her side. She had been sipping on champagne, the bubbles making her feel pleasantly lightheaded.

Just as she was starting to relax completely, the girls—JJ, Penelope, and Emily—approached with mischievous smiles.

“Mind if we steal Y/N for a bit, Spencer?” Penelope asked, already linking her arm through Y/N’s.

Spencer tried to playfully protest, but there was a genuine reluctance in his voice. “Hey, don’t take her away! We were having a good time.”

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll bring her back in one piece,” Emily teased, winking at Y/N.

Y/N laughed, letting herself be pulled away, though she cast a reassuring glance back at Spencer. He smiled, but the look in his eyes showed he wasn’t entirely pleased with being separated from her.

The girls led Y/N to a quieter corner of the room, where they settled into a small circle. Penelope handed her another glass of champagne, and Y/N accepted it gratefully.

“Alright, spill,” JJ said with a grin. “We want to know everything about you and Spencer.”

Y/N smiled nervously, taking a sip of her drink to buy herself some time. She knew she had to be careful with her answers, especially with the champagne making her feel more talkative than usual.

“Yeah, like how did you two meet?” Emily asked, leaning in eagerly.

“Well, we met at the bar,” Y/N began, sticking to the truth. “He was nice when my coworkers ditched me. We just... hit it off.”

“And what’s it like dating Spencer Reid?” Penelope asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Y/N laughed softly. “He’s sweet. So smart and kind. He really listens, you know?”

JJ nodded approvingly. “He’s definitely a good guy. How long have you been together?”

Y/N hesitated for a split second. “We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now,” she said, which was technically true.

Emily raised an eyebrow. “So, what’s he like outside of work? We only get to see the genius profiler side of him.”

“He’s really fun,” Y/N said, smiling at the thought of Spencer. “He loves talking about all kinds of things—books, history, science. It’s fascinating to be around him.”

Penelope leaned in closer. “And how’s the romance department? He’s a total gentleman, isn’t he?”

Y/N blushed, trying to keep her composure. “Yes, he’s very respectful and caring,” she said, avoiding any details that might hint at the true nature of their relationship.

The girls continued to pepper her with questions, and Y/N answered each one honestly but carefully, ensuring she didn’t reveal anything that would give away their arrangement. Despite the slightly nerve-wracking interrogation, she found herself enjoying their company.

Meanwhile, Spencer watched from across the room, trying to hide his anxiety. He trusted Y/N, but he couldn’t help but worry about what she might say under the influence of champagne.

After what felt like an eternity, the girls finally let Y/N go. She made her way back to Spencer, a smile on her lips and a lightness in her step.

“Did you survive the inquisition?” Spencer asked, his eyes scanning her face for any signs of distress.

“I did,” Y/N said with a laugh. “They’re just curious about us. I think I handled it okay.”

Spencer smiled, relieved. “Thanks for putting up with them.”

“It’s fine,” Y/N said, feeling a warm glow from his praise. “Actually, it was kind of nice to talk to them. It’s been a while since I had friends.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Spencer said, his expression softening with sympathy. “But I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Y/N nodded, her smile growing. “Yeah, it felt good to be part of a group again. They’re really nice.”

“They are,” Spencer agreed. “They’ve been my family for a long time.”

Y/N looked at him, appreciating his openness. “Thanks for including me tonight. I know it wasn’t part of our original arrangement.”

Spencer squeezed her hand gently. “I wanted you here. You mean a lot to me, Y/N. More than just... well, you know.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at his words. She knew their relationship was supposed to be casual, but moments like this made it hard to maintain that boundary. “Spencer…” she said softly.

“I know, I know… I just wanted you to know,” he replied, his eyes filled with sincerity.

“Okay, thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

They stood there for a moment, the party continuing around them, but in their own little bubble, everything else seemed to fade away.

“Do you want to stay a bit longer, or are you ready to head out?” Spencer asked, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand.

“I’m ready to go,” Y/N said, her voice steady but her heart racing. “But let’s not rush.”

Spencer nodded, understanding the unspoken words between them. They said their goodbyes to the team, who were all smiles and warm farewells, and made their way out to the car.

Once they were on the road, in the seclusion of the dark, empty road, Y/N reached over to put her hand on Spencer’s thigh. She was determined to show him just how grateful she was for tonight.

Spencer tensed slightly at the unexpected touch but quickly relaxed, his eyes flicking to her hand and then back to the road. “Y/N…” he started, but she shushed him gently.

“Just drive,” she whispered, her fingers tracing slow circles on his thigh.

The tension in the car shifted, becoming charged with unspoken desire. Spencer’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as he focused on the road ahead, trying to keep his breathing steady.

Y/N leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. “I want to thank you properly for tonight,” she murmured, her hand moving a little higher.

Spencer swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. “Y/N, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” she interrupted, her voice firm yet tender. “You’ve been so good to me, Spencer. Let me do this.”

He nodded, unable to find the words to refuse her. Y/N quickly worked open his belt and pants, pushing her hand inside his briefs. She stroked his cock, feeling him harden quickly in her hand.

“Y/N, god,” he groaned, his voice trembling.

“Feel good, Spence?” she whispered, her breath hot against his ear.

That was the first time she’d called him anything other than Spencer, and it made his stomach tighten with want. Even more so as she unbuckled her seatbelt to lean over and take his head inside her mouth.

Spencer let out a strangled moan, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as she moved. The sensation of her lips and tongue on him was overwhelming, and he struggled to keep his focus on the road.

“Y/N... oh god,” he managed to gasp, his body trembling with pleasure.

She continued her ministrations, her mouth working him expertly. The combination of her touch and the thrill of their public setting sent waves of pleasure through him. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, and it was taking all his willpower not to lose control completely.

“Please, Y/N... I’m so close,” he panted, his knuckles white from gripping the wheel so hard. 

Y/N hummed around his cock, the vibration pushing him even closer to the brink. 

“Already, Spencer?” Y/N teased, her voice a playful whisper in the darkness.

“Your mouth feels so good, I can’t help it,” he panted, his breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps.

“Okay, you deserve it. You’ve been such a good boy.”

“Oh my god!!” Spencer thrust his hips up as soon as she wrapped her lips around his tip and he came. He didn’t know he would have that reaction to being called a good boy.

“Aww, did you like that? Do you want to be my good boy?” she asked, her tone teasing.

“Y/N… don’t tease me,” he pleaded, his voice strained with desire.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she laughed softly and tucked him back in his pants before fixing them up.

Spencer reached out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing gently against her skin. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, his voice filled with gratitude.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, her smile widening. “Now, let’s get you home.”

They resumed their drive, the air between them charged with a new level of intimacy. Spencer couldn’t help but steal glances at Y/N, his heart swelling with affection and something deeper he was hesitant to name.

As they pulled up to her apartment, Spencer parked the car and turned to Y/N. “Thank you for tonight. It meant a lot to me,” he said softly.

“I’m glad, thank you for bringing me,” Y/N replied, her eyes reflecting the same unspoken emotions.

They shared a lingering look before Y/N got out of the car. As she walked to her door, she looked back and gave Spencer a final wave. He watched her go, feeling a warmth in his chest that he knew was more than just physical satisfaction.

As he drove home, Spencer couldn’t shake the feeling that their relationship was evolving into something more. And for the first time, he allowed himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to make it work.

— 

One day, Y/N asked Spencer if he was free, hoping they could spend some time together outside their usual arrangement. Spencer regrettably had to say no; he had already made plans with Derek.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I have plans with Derek tonight,” he said, his voice tinged with regret.

Y/N brushed it off with a casual smile. “No big deal, Spencer. Maybe another time.”

But inside, she felt a pang of hurt. It was silly, she knew, but she couldn’t help feeling rejected. Spencer hated that the first time Y/N had tried to initiate something more, he had to say no. He hoped she wasn’t too upset, but he tried not to let it show when he was hanging out with Derek. But of course, Derek noticed.

“Alright, Pretty Boy, what’s up? You’ve been off all night,” Derek asked, giving Spencer a concerned look.

Spencer sighed, realizing he couldn’t hide his feelings any longer. “It’s Y/N,” he admitted. “I feel like it’s gone too far. I’ve developed serious feelings for her, and I know I have to confess or end it.”

“What do you mean? I thought you were dating her?” Derek asked, looking genuinely confused.

Spencer shook his head, feeling a mix of frustration and sorrow. “No, we’re not really dating. We agreed to keep things casual, but… I can’t do it anymore. It’s too hard.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Wait, so all this time you’ve just been casually seeing each other?”

“Yeah,” Spencer admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want to complicate things, but now it’s already complicated. I don’t know what to do.”

Derek nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, first off, you need to let her know how you feel. Otherwise, you’re just going to end up hurting yourself. And this way, you’ll know how she feels too.”

Spencer looked at Derek, his expression filled with uncertainty. “What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

Derek gave him a reassuring smile. “You won’t know until you ask. But from what I saw at the dinner party, she’s definitely into you. All the girls swooned over your relationship. A room full of profilers couldn’t tell that you two weren’t in love.”

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”

“Really,” Derek confirmed. “You should have seen the way she looked at you. She’s got it bad, Reid.”

Spencer took a deep breath, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Thanks, Derek. I think I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime, man,” Derek said, clapping him on the back. “Just go for it. You’ve got nothing to lose.”

Spencer nodded, determination settling in his chest. He knew what he had to do. He had to talk to Y/N and let her know how he felt. And he hoped, with all his heart, that she felt the same way.

—

The next day, Spencer called Y/N and asked if they could meet up. There was something important he needed to talk to her about.

“Sure, Spencer. What’s up?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“I’ll tell you when we meet,” he said, his voice serious.

“Okay, why don’t you come over?” Y/N suggested.

“To your place?” Spencer asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” she confirmed.

“Okay, yeah,” he agreed, trying to hide the excitement in his voice.

Spencer couldn’t believe Y/N was inviting him over. He had never been to her apartment before. All of their meetups had been at his place, and she had never explained why. He assumed it was another way to keep her distance, but now she was asking him to come over. Maybe Derek was right. Maybe she did share his feelings.

As he made his way to her apartment, Spencer’s mind raced with thoughts of what he would say. He felt a mixture of nervousness and hope, his heart pounding in his chest.

When he arrived, Y/N was waiting at the door, a small, nervous smile on her face. “Hi, Spencer. Come in.”

“Hi,” he replied, stepping inside. He looked around, taking in the cozy, inviting space. It felt like a glimpse into a part of her life she had kept hidden from him.

“Nice place,” Spencer said, trying to ease the tension.

“Thanks,” Y/N replied, closing the door behind him. She couldn’t believe she had invited him over. She didn’t know what she was thinking. This was her space, her private, intimate space. Once he saw it, he’d know more about her. He’d see pictures of her family, he’d get to meet her cat, he’d probably ascertain her favorite flowers and colors based on her decorations.

Spencer took in the surroundings, his eyes scanning the living room. The sunlight streamed through large windows, casting a warm glow on the cozy, eclectic space. The room was filled with a mix of bright colors and soft textures, creating a welcoming atmosphere. A large plant stood in the corner, its broad leaves adding a touch of greenery to the room.

He noticed the bookshelf filled with a variety of books and knick-knacks, hinting at her diverse interests. The walls were adorned with framed photos and artwork, providing glimpses into her life and memories. He saw pictures of Y/N with what he assumed were her family and old friends, all smiling and happy.

As they moved further inside, a fluffy cat with a patchwork of colors trotted over, rubbing against Y/N’s leg before giving Spencer a curious look. “This is Muffin,” she said, bending down to scratch the cat behind the ears.

Spencer smiled, feeling a warmth in his chest. “Hi, Muffin,” he greeted, crouching down to pet the cat, who purred in response.

He stood up and continued to observe, his profiler mind at work. The dining room table was covered with a cheerful blue and white striped cloth, and the vases of fresh flowers added a splash of color. The space felt lived-in and loved, a reflection of Y/N’s personality.

She’s soft and sweet, Spencer thought, noting the pastel hues and the gentle ambiance. Eclectic and bright, he added, taking in the mix of vintage and modern decor. He could see she liked to remember those close to her and keep bright colors around, suggesting a cheerful and sentimental nature.

“Y/N, your apartment really is lovely,” Spencer said sincerely, turning to her with a smile.

She blushed, feeling a mix of pride and vulnerability. “Thank you, Spencer.”

Spencer took a step closer, reaching out to gently touch her arm. “I’m really glad you invited me over,” he said softly. “I feel like I’m getting to know you even better.”

Y/N looked into his eyes, seeing the genuine affection and curiosity there. Her heart raced, and she made a bold decision, avoiding the emotions coursing through her. “I want to have sex with you.”

“What?” Spencer's eyes widened in surprise.

“I want to have sex with you, Spencer. I want to feel you inside me,” she repeated, her voice steady.

“Y/N…” Spencer began, struggling to find the right words.

“I know we haven’t gone all the way yet, but I want to. Do you?” she asked, her eyes searching his face for any sign of doubt.

“Of course I do, but—” Spencer started, but she cut him off.

“But what, Spencer?” she snapped, feeling a pang of rejection. If she can’t have him romantically, she at least wants to have him fully sexually. 

“Nothing, nothing,” he said quickly, his hands moving to cup her face. “Come here.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer, their bodies almost touching. Spencer leaned in and kissed her, slow and tender at first, then deepening with a passion that left them both breathless. They both ignored their rule.

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked, his voice husky with desire.

“Stop asking,” she said, her hands moving to unbutton his shirt. “I’ need you.”

Spencer’s hands trembled slightly as he helped her undress, their clothes falling to the floor in a heap. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, savoring every inch of her skin as he guided her toward the bedroom.

They tumbled onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and heated breaths. Spencer hovered over her, his eyes locked onto hers. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek.

Y/N smiled up at him, her heart swelling with emotion. “So are you, Spencer.”

He leaned down to kiss her again, his body pressing against hers. Y/N wrapped her legs around Spencer's waist, feeling his hard length slide between her wet core.

“Ohh, Spence,” she moaned.

“Yeah, that feel good, baby?” Spencer's voice was thick with desire.

No one had called Y/N baby in a long time. She let herself enjoy it for now. “Yeah, please, please, I need more.”

“Okay, okay, I got you,” he reassured her.

Spencer traced his fingers down Y/N’s body, pausing at her breasts to tug on her nipples. Y/N arched her back into Spencer's hands, moaning unabashedly. His hands continued their journey down, finding Y/N’s lips and spreading his fingers to run through the length of her.

Y/N gasped at the sensation, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. “Spence, please,” she whimpered, her voice filled with need.

Spencer positioned himself at her entrance, looking into her eyes for confirmation. “Are you ready?” he asked softly.

“Yes, Spencer. Please,” she replied, her voice trembling with anticipation.

He slowly pushed into her, their combined moans filling the room as he stretched and filled her. They moved together, finding a rhythm that brought them both immense pleasure.

Spencer leaned down to kiss her deeply, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. “You feel so– so good,” he murmured against her lips, his hands gripping her hips to pull her closer.

“So do you, Spencer,” Y/N panted, her nails digging into his back as she urged him on. “Fuck, you’re so big.”

Spencer laughed, his ego being boosted. The pace of his hips quickened, their passion reaching new heights. Y/N’s breaths came in short, desperate gasps as Spencer pushed into her with powerful thrusts. “Spence, oh god, oh god, oh godddd,” she cried out.

“I know, baby,” he groaned, his movements becoming more frantic.

Spencer took Y/N’s thighs in his hands and pushed them up, getting deeper inside her. The new angle caused Y/N to yell out in pleasure, raising her hands to dig her fingers into Spencer’s biceps. Keeping one leg up, Spencer dropped a hand to Y/N’s clit, rubbing in precise, quick circles to bring her to her release.

“Spencer, I’m so close!” she gasped. “Oh god! I’m gonna—” Her back arched as liquid squirted out of her and all over Spencer.

“Oh my god, Y/N… did you just… squirt? I didn’t—I didn’t know you could do that,” Spencer said, his eyes wide with surprise and awe.

“I didn’t either,” she panted, still coming down from the high.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Spencer groaned, feeling himself on the brink. “I’m gonna cum.”

With a few more powerful thrusts, Spencer let out a deep, guttural moan as he reached his climax, his body tensing and then releasing all at once. He collapsed on top of her, pulling her close as he filled her up and they both caught their breath.

They lay there, their bodies entwined, feeling a deep sense of connection and contentment. Spencer brushed a strand of hair from Y/N’s face, looking into her eyes with a tenderness that made her heart ache.

“Y/N… I love you,” he said softly.

“What?” Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I’m sorry, I was going to tell you earlier, but you pounced on me when I got here,” Spencer laughed lightheartedly, trying to ease the tension.

“You’re joking, right?” Y/N asked, her voice filled with disbelief.

“No, I’m not,” Spencer replied, his expression serious. “Why would you say that?”

“Why would you?” she demanded, pushing him off of her so she could get off the bed.

“Y/N, I’m confused. Are you upset?” Spencer tilted his head like a puppy. 

“Yes! Of course I’m upset, Spencer!” Y/N shouted as she pulled on her clothes.

“Why?” he asked in a small voice, feeling hollow.

“You need to leave,” she said, her voice trembling with anger and fear.

“No, we need to talk about this,” Spencer insisted, his heart aching.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Spencer. This was supposed to be casual. You knew that. It’s not my fault you fell in love,” she snapped, her eyes flashing with hurt.

Spencer stood up to pull his briefs on, his expression filled with pain. “Y/N, it’s not just about me. I thought… I thought maybe you felt the same way.”

“Well, you thought wrong,” she said, her voice cracking. “I can’t do this.”

“Why not?” he pleaded, standing up and reaching out for her.

“Because I can't!” she yelled, tears streaming down her face. 

“Please, don’t do this,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Don’t push me away.”

She shook her head, backing away. “No, Spencer. I can’t. I’m sorry.” Y/N looked at him, her heart breaking at the sight of his pain. “I’m sorry, Spencer. You need to leave.”

Spencer stood there for a moment, feeling as if the ground had been pulled out from under him. Finally, he nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll go.”

As he gathered his clothes and dressed, Y/N turned away, unable to watch. The weight of her decision pressed down on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to take it back.

Spencer paused at the door, looking back at her one last time. “I love you, Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with sorrow. “I hope one day you’ll believe that.”

With that, he left, the door closing softly behind him. Y/N stood there, feeling the silence close in around her. She sank to the floor, tears flowing freely as the reality of what she had just done hit her.

She had pushed away the one person who had made her feel truly loved and safe. And now, she was left with the emptiness of her fears and regrets. As she cried, she couldn’t help but wonder if she had made a terrible mistake.

—

Spencer was beyond devastated. Heartbroken didn’t even begin to sum it up. He couldn’t hide it from the team anymore, telling them everything that had happened. Well, not everything, but the important things. They all showed him so much love and support, trying to help him through the pain.

Emily, always fiercely protective of her friends, decided to take matters into her own hands. One evening, she stealthily left a bag of flaming dog shit on Y/N’s welcome mat. The fire flickered in the night as Emily slipped away, a satisfied smirk on her face.

Y/N, smelling something burning, opened the door to her apartment and immediately noticed the small fire on her welcome mat. Panicking, she stomped on the bag to put the flame out. The mess spread, getting into the fibers of the rug. She grimaced, realizing she’d have to throw it away. That mat was a housewarming gift from one of her old friends when she moved in with her ex. It held sentimental value, a reminder of a past life.

As she cleaned up the mess, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the weight of her actions. She knew she deserved this. She had hurt Spencer deeply, and now she was paying for it in small, petty ways. The guilt gnawed at her, making her question everything.

Meanwhile, at the BAU, Spencer found solace in his friends. They rallied around him, offering support and understanding. He could see the anger in Emily’s eyes, the quiet sympathy in JJ’s, and the resolute determination in Derek’s. They all wanted to help him heal, and their efforts weren’t in vain.

“Spencer, we’re here for you,” Derek said one day as they sat in the break room. “Whatever you need, we’ve got your back.”

“Thanks, Derek,” Spencer replied, his voice still tinged with sadness. “I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

Emily leaned over, her expression softening. “You’re strong, Spencer. And you’ll get through this. We’ll be there for you every step of the way.”

Spencer nodded, grateful for their unwavering support. He knew it would take time, but he also knew he wasn’t alone. The team was his family, and they would help him find his way through the darkness.

Back at her apartment, Y/N sat on her couch, staring at the new welcome mat she had bought. It didn’t have the same sentimental value, but it was a reminder of the consequences of her actions. She felt a deep sense of regret, wondering if she had made a terrible mistake pushing Spencer away.

As the days went by, the weight of her decision became harder to bear. She missed Spencer, his kindness, his intelligence, and the way he made her feel safe. She missed the potential of what they could have had together. And now, she had to live with the knowledge that she had thrown it all away out of fear.

Y/N knew she had to make things right, but she wasn’t sure if it was too late or if she deserved to. The thought of reaching out to Spencer terrified her, but the thought of never seeing him again was even worse. She had to find the courage to face her fears, to try and make amends for the hurt she had caused.

With a heavy heart and a resolve to fix what she had broken, Y/N began to formulate a plan. She didn’t know if Spencer would ever forgive her, but she had to try. She owed him that much. And maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to mend both their broken hearts. 

—

A month after Y/N kicked Spencer out, she showed up at his door. Anxiously knocking and waiting. But an answer never came. Spencer was on a case. When he got back home, one of his nosy neighbors told him, “A pretty young thing had been around knocking on your door.” His heart stopped. He didn’t want to get his hopes up and think that it was Y/N, but Spencer didn’t get many other visitors, especially of the pretty young thing variety.

Once the team returned to work, Spencer snuck into Penelope’s office and asked her for a favor.

“Garcia, do you think you can check the security cameras from my building from the last week?” he asked, his voice laced with urgency.

“Well duh, why my dear?” Penelope responded, already intrigued.

“I think Y/N showed up while we were gone,” Spencer admitted, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Ohhh juicy, I’m in. Give me one second to work my magic,” Penelope said, her fingers flying over the keyboard.

Penelope confirmed that Y/N had in fact visited his building, and Spencer lost his breath. He thanked her and turned to leave, but Penelope wasn’t done with her sleuthing. Y/N had hurt her friend, and she needed to know who she was. She felt that she now had a semblance of Spencer’s permission.

“Uh Reid,” she called out, stopping him in his tracks.

“Yeah?” he replied, turning back to her.

“I think I know why Y/N won’t date,” Penelope said cautiously.

“What? Why? Is she married?” Spencer asked, his mind racing.

“No… she almost was,” Penelope revealed, her eyes filled with sympathy.

“What??” Spencer rushed over to the screen to see pictures and mementos of Y/N’s time dating her old partner.

“When did they separate?” he asked, his voice strained.

“About a month before she met you,” Penelope answered, her fingers still tapping away at the keyboard.

“Okay… so is that why she doesn’t want to date?” Spencer pressed, trying to piece everything together.

“No, I think it’s because of this right here,” Penelope said, pointing to the screen and showing another security video of Y/N at a bar, kissing another person, not her partner. The time stamp confirmed she was still in a relationship at the time.

“She… she cheated?” Spencer’s voice cracked with disbelief.

“Yeah, baby, I’m afraid so,” Penelope said softly.

“Oh,” was all Spencer could manage, his mind reeling.

“She probably didn’t want to hurt you, my love,” Penelope offered gently.

“She did anyway,” Spencer replied, his voice hollow.

“I know. Are you okay?” Penelope asked, her concern evident.

“I don’t know,” Spencer admitted, shaking his head. “I mean, why didn’t she just tell me? The saying ‘once a cheater, always a cheater’ isn’t always true. It’s circumstantial.”

“Why don’t you just ask her about it?” Penelope suggested, her eyes full of understanding.

“I don’t know, Garcia. I need to think,” Spencer said, his voice filled with uncertainty as he turned and left her office, the weight of the new information heavy on his shoulders.

—

Y/N was sitting in her apartment in the dark, staring out the window at the night sky. She hadn't been herself lately, rather a shell of who she became while she was with Spencer. She was taking this parting harder than her breakup with her last partner. She’d been trying to work up the nerve to go back over to his apartment, but she was afraid that he was there that night and ignored her purposefully.

As she spiraled in her thoughts, there was a quiet knock on her door. She turned her head, thinking she was imagining it. Then a soft voice called out her name. Spencer.

She scrambled up, quickly walking over to the door and swinging it open.

“Hi,” she said, almost star-struck, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Hello.”

“Do you… do you want to come in?”

“Sure.”

“Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked, her voice shaky with nerves.

“No, thank you.”

“Okay, um, why are—”

“Did you cheat in your last relationship?” Spencer interrupted, his voice steady but cold, catching her off guard.

“What?” Y/N’s heart dropped, her stomach churning with anxiety.

“I know you heard what I said.” This was the coldest Spencer had ever been with her, and it stung more than she expected.

“I, um,” her eyes welled up with tears, “yeah. I did.”

“Why?” Spencer asked, his tone demanding but his eyes filled with hurt.

“Does it matter? There’s never a good reason,” she said, her voice trembling as she tried to hold back her tears.

“Yes, it does matter to me,” Spencer insisted, his eyes piercing into hers, searching for answers.

Y/N huffed out a shaky breath. “Okay, well, they had a very demanding job that required them to travel for months at a time…”

Spencer listened intently, his expression unreadable as she continued.

“And at first, it wasn’t so bad. They would call often, we’d engage in intimate phone or video calls, they’d send flowers and postcards, and bring me home a gift from every place they visited. But over time, they started pulling away. Calls were missed, texts were ignored, I stopped receiving flowers. Postcards were far and few, and they didn’t have anything written on them. No more gifts, and when they were home, we barely touched. A kiss here and there, they would only touch me in the shower. Like—like I was dirty or something.”

“Then one night, I went out with our friends while they were away. They had been gone for three months; the trips kept getting longer, more frequent, like they couldn’t stand to be around me anymore. There was a person at the bar we went to, they flirted with me, told me I was beautiful, gave me the attention I was so desperate for. And when they asked me to come home with them, I said yes.”

“I regretted it immediately. I called them as soon as I left. They broke up with me, obviously, told me to have my things packed and gone before they got back at the end of the week. That was the end of that. We haven’t talked since.”

“Did they say anything else?” Spencer asked, his voice softening slightly, though the tension remained.

“They told me that they would have never done that to me, no matter how bad things got between us. That I was… a… a whore,” she choked on a sob, “and that I didn’t deserve good things, that I didn’t deserve love. I agreed with them.”

“And now?” Spencer prompted gently, his eyes filled with empathy.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. “Now? Now I don’t know, Spencer. I’m scared. I’m scared of being that person again, of hurting someone I care about. I thought pushing you away would keep you safe from me, but it’s only made everything worse. I couldn’t stop myself from hurting you.”

Spencer took a step closer, his eyes softening with understanding. “Y/N, everyone makes mistakes. What matters is that we learn from them. You’re not that person anymore. You deserve love, and you deserve good things. But you have to believe that.”

“I want to believe that,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “But it’s so hard. If I hadn’t been selfish that night, if I had just walked away from you… you never would have been hurt.”

“But then I never would have met you,” Spencer replied, his voice gentle.

“Was it worth it? Even though I hurt you?” Y/N asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

“Of course it was. It is. The only thing I regret is not fighting harder,” Spencer said, his eyes filled with sincerity.

“Really? You don’t hate me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No, Y/N. I could never hate you. I love you,” Spencer said firmly, his hands reaching out to cup her face.

Y/N was silent, tears streaming down her cheeks. The weight of his words settling into her heart.

“Please say it back,” Spencer pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion.

“I want to, I want to so bad,” she admitted, her voice choked with tears.

Spencer took her hands in his, squeezing them gently. “Just say it, please.”

“What if I hurt you? What if I cheat on you?” Y/N’s voice quivered with fear.

“You won’t. I mean, please don’t?” Spencer chuckled lightly, trying to ease her fears.

“But you go away for work so much. What if you stop loving me? You meet someone else while you’re gone, or you realize I’m not worth the work and effort?” Y/N’s voice was filled with anguish, her insecurities laid bare.

Spencer shook his head, his grip on her hands tightening. “Y/N, listen to me. I love you. I’m not going to stop loving you because of my job. We’ll make it work, just like we’ve made it work so far. You are worth every bit of effort and more. And if I ever made you feel otherwise, I’m sorry. You deserve to know that you’re worth it.”

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

“What was that?” Spencer asked, a huge smile spreading across his face.

“I know you heard me,” Y/N mumbled back, using his own words from earlier.

“Say it again, please. Never stop saying it,” he pleaded, his eyes shining with joy.

“I love you, Spencer Reid,” she said, her voice stronger this time, filled with certainty and love.

Spencer grabbed her, pulling her into a passionate kiss that took her breath away. Their lips moved together with a fierce intensity, all the pent-up emotions and unspoken words pouring out in that single moment. 

They finally pulled apart, gasping for air, their foreheads resting against each other’s.

“Y/N,” Spencer whispered, his voice filled with awe and adoration. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Spencer,” she replied, her heart swelling with happiness.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, they both knew that this was the beginning of something beautiful. They had faced their fears and insecurities, and now, they were ready to move forward together, stronger than ever before.

Y/N pulled away slowly, as if in a daze. “Spence… are you hard right now?”

Spencer laughed sheepishly. “Ha. Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Y/N laughed, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Because we were having a sweet moment!” Spencer joined in on her laughter.

“Is it because I said I love you? Did you get an emotional boner?” she teased, a playful smile on her lips.

“I think so,” Spencer admitted, chuckling.

“Well, that’s a first,” Y/N said, her laughter bubbling up.

“Yeah, it’s a first for me too. Just give me a second, it will go away,” Spencer said, trying to compose himself.

“Absolutely not,” Y/N said, her voice turning sultry. “Get your sexy little ass in the bedroom. Now.”

“God, I love it when you tell me what to do,” Spencer replied, his eyes darkening with desire.

“I know, baby,” Y/N said, her voice low and seductive.

“Wait, did you just call my ass little?” Spencer asked, a mock-offended look on his face.

“Well… yeah. But I love it anyway. It fits so nicely in my hands!” Y/N said, grinning as she playfully squeezed his backside.

Spencer laughed, grabbing her hand and leading her to the bedroom. “You are something else, you know that?”

“And you love it,” she replied, pulling him close for another kiss.

“Yes, yes, I do,” Spencer murmured against her lips.

They made quick work of Spencer's sweater vest and button-up, dropping the offending articles to Y/N’s bedroom floor. Next came his pants and finally his briefs before he was pushed onto the bed, his head nestled in the large amount of pillows.

“Y/N,” he squirmed, feeling so exposed while she was still fully clothed.

“What is it, baby?” she teased, her voice a playful purr.

“I need something!” Spencer’s voice was desperate, his body aching for her touch.

“What do you need?” she asked, drawing out the moment.

“You!” he replied, his voice filled with longing.

“I’m right here,” she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Y/N…” he whined, his frustration growing. “Stop teasing, please.”

“I’m sorry, baby. Do you want me to touch you?” she asked, her tone softening.

“Yes, please,” he begged, his eyes pleading.

“Good boy… so polite,” she cooed, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on his chest.

“Can you take your clothes off… please?” Spencer asked, his voice trembling with anticipation.

“Of course, my love,” she replied, a tender smile on her lips.

Y/N stripped down to her panties, leaving those on for something she had in mind. Spencer’s breath hitched at the sight of her, his desire for her growing even more intense.

She climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips and leaning down to kiss him deeply. Her hands roamed his body, caressing and teasing, drawing soft moans from his lips.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his hands gripping the sheets.

She smiled against his lips, her hands trailing down to wrap around his length, stroking him gently. “You like that, baby?”

“Yes,” he gasped, his hips arching into her touch.

“Good,” she murmured, kissing along his jawline and down his neck.

Spencer raised his hands to cup Y/N’s ass, but she took his hands away immediately. “Hands to yourself, no touching,” she commanded, her voice firm.

Spencer whined loudly, bucking his hips into Y/N. “Do I need to tie you down?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, no, I’ll be good, I promise,” he replied quickly, his eyes wide with need.

Y/N resumed her motions, now kissing Spencer’s chest, licking and sucking his nipples while stroking his cock. Spencer moaned loudly, unable to control himself with all his pent-up tension.

“Shhh, be quiet,” she whispered, her voice a teasing command.

Spencer bit his lip, trying to stifle his moans as Y/N’s mouth and hand worked magic on his body. She continued her ministrations, driving him wild with every touch and kiss. The restraint was torture, but it made every sensation more intense, heightening his pleasure.

Y/N’s other hand roamed down his body, her fingernails lightly grazing his skin, sending shivers through him. She kissed her way down his tummy, her tongue flicking out to taste him, making him squirm beneath her.

“Please, Y/N,” he begged, his voice a desperate whisper.

“Be patient, baby,” she replied, her lips curling into a smile against his skin. “Good things come to those who wait.”

She moved lower, her kisses trailing down his abdomen, making him tremble with anticipation. Spencer’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, fighting the urge to touch her, to pull her closer.

When she finally reached his cock, Spencer gasped, his body arching off the bed. She took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the tip before taking him deeper. He moaned again, louder this time, his resolve breaking.

“Quiet,” Y/N reminded him, her voice a hushed whisper as she looked up at him.

Spencer nodded, biting his lip harder, his body shaking with the effort to stay silent. Y/N’s mouth worked him expertly, bringing him to the brink of ecstasy and then pulling back, prolonging his pleasure.

“Y/N, please,” he begged again, his voice strained. “I need you.”

“You just can’t listen, can you? I thought you were gonna be a good boy for me?” she hissed, her voice low and commanding.

Spencer looked up at her with wide eyes, his desperation clear. “I am being a good boy.”

“No, you’re not. You’re still talking,” Y/N said, standing up and moving away from the bed.

Spencer immediately reached out, his voice a pleading whine. “No, baby, please come back.”

Y/N slipped her panties off, stalking over to Spencer with a predatory grace. She lightly grabbed his neck, forcing his eyes to meet hers. “I said: Shut. Up.”

After she finished speaking, she shoved her panties into Spencer’s mouth, making him groan deeply around the fabric. The sensation of the fabric in his mouth and the dominance in her eyes sent a thrill through him.

“Good boy,” she whispered, her voice a tantalizing mix of authority and affection.

Spencer’s eyes closed, the delicious taste of her panties in his mouth amplifying his other senses. He could feel her every touch, every movement, with heightened intensity. 

Y/N climbed back onto the bed, positioning herself over him. She took a moment to admire the sight of him, vulnerable and at her mercy, before she slowly lowered herself onto his cock. The connection between them was electric, sending shivers through their bodies.

Spencer’s hands gripped the sheets, his muffled moans vibrating through the fabric in his mouth. Y/N began to move, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm that drove him to the brink of insanity.

“You feel so good,” she murmured, her hands scratching down his chest. “My good boy.”

Spencer’s eyes fluttered open, meeting hers with a mix of adoration and need as he arched his back at the sensation. He wanted to speak, to tell her how much he loved her, how amazing she felt, but the panties in his mouth kept him silent. Instead, he poured all his emotions into his gaze, hoping she could see how deeply he felt for her.

Y/N leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. “You’re doing so well, Spencer. Just a little longer.”

Her words sent a jolt of pleasure through him, his body responding to her every command. The tension between them built, her movements becoming more frantic as she chased her release. “Spencer, baby, please… you can touch me now. I’m so close,” she moaned.

Spencer didn’t need to be told twice. His hands flew to grab her body, one sliding to her core to rub her clit with diligence and determination. His other hand groped her chest, pinching her nipples, making Y/N throw her head back and whine loudly into the dark apartment.

As she neared her release, her walls tightened around Spencer, driving him absolutely insane. The sensation was overwhelming, pushing him closer to the edge. Watching and feeling Y/N reach her peak was almost too much for him to handle.

With a guttural moan, Spencer moved his hands to her hips and thrust up into her wildly. Y/N leaned forward with the intensity, pulling her panties out of Spencer’s mouth and hiding her face in his neck, panting heavily.

“Fuck, Y/N, fuck. You feel so good. I’m so close,” he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure.

Y/N’s breath was hot against his neck, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. “Come on, baby. Cum inside me,” she whispered, her voice filled with raw need.

Spencer’s hands tightened on her hips, his movements becoming more urgent and desperate. With one final thrust, Spencer cried out, his release hitting him with a force that left him breathless. 

They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat, hearts pounding in their chests. Y/N lay on top of Spencer, her head resting on his shoulder, both of them struggling to catch their breath.

Once Y/N finally caught her breath, she came back to the reality of what had happened during the throes of passion. “Hey, baby… was that okay?”

“Are you kidding? That was amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard in my life,” Spencer replied, his voice still tinged with wonder.

“Well, gee, thanks, Spence,” Y/N giggled, her face still buried in his neck. “I meant the underwear, and the choking, and the… you know, dominant stuff?”

“Oh, yeah. God, yeah, that was more than okay. I loved it,” Spencer said, his voice sincere.

“Oh, okay, good,” Y/N smiled, and Spencer could feel her lips curve up against him.

“You better watch out, though,” he teased.

“Why’s that, big boy?” she asked, a playful edge to her voice.

“Someday, I’m gonna put you in your place,” Spencer said with a smirk.

“Okay, baby, I’d like to see you try,” Y/N challenged, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I love you,” Spencer whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

“I love you too,” she replied, snuggling closer to him.

They lay there in silence, taking in the comfort of each other’s presence, having never held one another after sex before. It felt new and wonderful, a quiet intimacy they both cherished.

“Hey, Spence?” Y/N broke the silence, her voice soft.

“Yeah, babe?” he replied, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her back.

“Do you—do you want to be my boyfriend?” she asked, her voice tinged with nervousness.

“Oh, um, I thought this was just casual?” Spencer teased in a faux serious voice, unable to resist.

Y/N squawked and hit Spencer’s chest in indignation. Laughing, she said, “You asshole.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. And… you kind of deserved it,” Spencer said, still chuckling.

“You’re right, Spence. You got me,” she laughed. “So…”

“Yes, Y/N. I would be honored to be your boyfriend,” Spencer said, kissing Y/N softly, sealing his words.

[maidflowery]

POV: Aventurine Gave you his Perfume

Deep Sea Aurora

"Do you like that perfume so much? Why not drown in me instead?"

Tl;dr “Aventurine, c’mon now… you can’t be jealous of your own perfume?” 

Your boyfriend, Aventurine, would often go on a business trip, after which he'd bring home all sorts of trinkets and oddities from all over the world.

But this time, he gave you something before he went on a trip.

"Here, something to remember me by."

With a smile, Aventurine placed an intricate, square bottle in your hands. It had a deep cyan and teal gradient, encrusted with a silver and cyan shovel crest in the middle. The name “Carnaval Nocturne” was engraved at the bottom. 

Under the light, the colorful bottle shone like the Northern Light, mesmerizing you.

When you gave your wrist a quick spritz, you caught a whiff of the citrusy kumquat and red currant, ending with a harmonious floral symphony that blended an exquisite assortment of blooming flowers.

You noticed this scent immediately, it was the same as the one he always wore! 

You wouldn't deny that it got lonely sometimes, but with this, at least it'd feel as if he was there with you!

"Wooow! Aventurine! This is the best! Thank you so much!"

Seeing you hold the perfume like the world's most precious treasure, Aventurine flashed you his trademark smug grin. 

“Don’t bother thanking me—just promise me you’ll wear it everywhere you go. Deal?”

"Okay!"

And wear it everywhere, you did.

Little did you know, it was his way of marking you, and keeping the insects away while he was gone.

Unbeknownst to him, this plan would backfire immensely.

♤♤♤

Two weeks later, Aventurine was back from his business trip, but when he invited you out…

“Sorry, not today! I had a reunion with my highschool friends! Ugh, I’m so nervous, but with this perfume, I’m sure I’ll manage!”

And so on…

“I’m going to practice for a group presentation! This perfume always calms my nerves!” 

And so forth… 

“I need to study for my exam. Mr. Nocturne will be a great company for it! He helps me focus!” 

“...”

…”Mr. Nocturne”? It has a name now? 

Aventurine stared at your back as you walked away, off to handle whatever it was while clutching the perfume like a lucky charm. 

He felt complicated. Although it was great that his gift was boosting your productivity and all, why did it feel like you were spending more and more time with his perfume?

He gave it as a reminder of him, not a replacement?

“...Well, aren’t you brave?”

♤♤♤

That evening, you found your trusty partner and sidekick, Mr. Nocturne, missing from your drawer!

You immediately went to look for Aventurine, who had been home all day. Maybe you misplaced it, and he knows where it was? Even after he returned from his business trip, he still had work to do at home, usually lasting until the evening. 

So, to his room you go! 

“—Aventurine! Mr. Nocturne is missing!”

"Well, good evening to you, too. Welcome back. How was your day? Mine was the same as usual, by the way. Are you hungry? 'Cause I’m starving. What do you want for dinner? You know, just a few of the things you could’ve bothered to ask your boyfriend, along with a million other things. Oh, and a knock on the door, let’s not forget that one.”

Aventurine, who had just finished an online work meeting, was visibly taking off his elaborate attire, starting from his dainty jewels. The movement, initially careless and rushed, slowed when he noticed your arrival—and your gaze. 

“S-sorry… this is kind of an emergency…”

Aventurine’s grin widened, his smile growing more mischievous. His fingers rested on his black leather collar, leisurely unbuckling it, before sliding down to unbutton his shirt, revealing his slender, smooth neck.  

There was something hypnotizing about his movement, which made you unable to look away—until something gleaming caught your eye.

“AH! There it is!”

You found the missing Mr. Nocturne on top of his desk. Out of the corner of your eye, you could have sworn you saw Aventurine frown, but you were too relieved to think about it.

“Phew! I’ve been looking for it everywhere! Thank god—”

But just as you were about to reach for it, Aventurine swiftly grabbed Mr. Nocturne, pulling it out of your reach.

Then, with a flawless smile, he asked you, "Between me and Mr. Nocturne, which one do you like most?"

Suddenly, a suspicion arose in your mind.

“Aventurine, you… did you take Mr. Nocturne on purpose?”

He didn't answer and simply maintained his smile.

So, you had walked into a hostage situation all along!

“Aventurine, c’mon now… you can’t be jealous of your own perfume?” 

You tried to mediate the situation.

“Haha! That’s funny. How can someone be jealous of an inanimate object? If anything, I’m just looking out for you. My girlfriend’s overdependence on an object is getting rather concerning lately.” Aventurine chuckled, brushing it off as something silly. 

“How so?!”

Why did he make you sound like an addict?! 

“Oh, I’m sure you know what I’m referring to. It honestly reminds me of a certain anecdote. A boy, once afraid of the dark, overcame his fear after his mother gave him a protective necklace. As long as he had that necklace, he didn’t fear the dark. Naturally, his fear returned in full force once it went missing. So, what does it solve, really? That’s right, nothing.”

…What a long-winded speech. Still, the persuasive, convincing way he presented it made you doubt yourself for a moment. As expected of the Senior Manager of the Strategic Investment Department in IPC! 

Certainly, you couldn’t function without Mr. Nocturne lately. What started as a way to kickstart tasks quickly became a necessity before you could begin anything. It was certainly… concerning. 

“...So, I should stop using Mr. Nocturne?” you asked him dejectedly, your shoulders drooping.

While you were lowering your head, you heard him say, “…Do you like that perfume so much?”

Although you couldn’t make out his expression, his tone no longer held any hint of a smile. Instead, it sounded sulky.

"If you're asking whether I like it, then of course... it's something you gave me."

After a brief silence, Aventurine spoke, “Then, why not drown in me instead?” his tone laced with irresistible temptation. 

Wondering what that could possibly mean, you raised your head, just in time to see him tilt the perfume slightly. The falling droplets glittered, splashing against his exposed chest. Some trickled down the gilded cutout, outlining the reverse heart shape.

You unconsciously gulped. 

"Good girl... you're being honest, aren't you? How is it? I heard this place smells the nicest.”

…Huh?

Before you knew it, you were pressed against his chest, with him tenderly stroking your head. Moreover, the intoxicating fragrance of fruits, flowers, and him were pervading your senses.

Where am I?

Who am I?

There was a brief gap in your memory.

All you could recall was how his chest gradually came closer and closer into view, even though he never left his spot. 

Your legs had betrayed you, didn’t they?!

Belatedly, you noticed that you were hugging him close—with both arms, to boot.

…And these arms too!!

“Aventurine, this is…!!”

You let go of him and looked up, trying to explain, a large hand gently pushed your head back to where it had been.

“Hey!” 

You protested amidst the firm tenderness that enveloped you.

“…Won’t you tell me?”

Once again, you couldn’t see his expression. Yet, the unmistakable care and affection in his tone caught you by surprise.

“T-tell you what?” you asked, flustered. 

“You use Mr. Nocturne whenever you’re facing something difficult or feeling down. So, won’t you tell me? What’s wrong?” 

“It’s… not important.” 

Gently, his fingertips cupped your chin, lifting it so you faced him.

“It is to me.”

Violet-cyan eyes bore into yours, filled with concern and worry. 

“I-it really isn’t, besides, you seem busy…” you insisted. 

“Nonsense. I’ll always have time for you. What else would I be doing? You should lean on me a bit more …or am I that unreliable to you?” Aventurine smiled wryly, his eyes narrowing sadly.

Argh!

“...Okay, I get it, already! But promise you won’t laugh…”

Finally, you told him what was going on. 

“So, you’re worried about posting your writing, thinking that no one will like it?”

Aventurine summarized it while folding his arms. 

“Yeah, basically… I-I told you it wasn’t important…” 

You lowered your gaze in shame. 

You couldn’t believe you troubled your trillionaire, goal-driven, high-profile boyfriend with your gripe about the story you posted in Ao4!?!?

But then, Aventurine took your hand in his. 

As he earnestly peered into your eyes, he smiled and asked you, “What’s 10% of the world?”

“Huh…?” you were caught off-guard. 

Instead of offering a word of encouragement or reassurance, he asked you a mathematical question. Naturally, you couldn’t come up with an answer, at least not right away. 

Besides, knowing him, was he telling you to just gamble at it?

"Let’s say there are 8 billion people in the world. What is 10% of 8 billion?"

“Uhm…”

“Or, what is 1% of 8 billion?”

“...A lot, probably.”

"That's right. The world is vast. Can you really be sure that no one will like what you created?”

“...!” 

You finally understood what he was trying to say. 

Seeing the look of realization on your face, Aventurine beamed. 

“It’s 80 thousand by the way. You’re welcome.”

“Aventurine… Thank you so much! I won’t give up! Now, to the drawing board I go!”

Brimming with motivation, you spun toward the door, about to rush back to your room! 

Suddenly, he was right behind you, pressing his body against yours. He trapped you against the door, catching your wrist, which was about to reach for the doorknob. Then, he leaned in and whispered right into your ear.

"...And spend more time away from me? Not a chance."

Briefly, you wondered if Mr. Nocturne was just a bait to lure you in here. 

♤♤♤

"‘...Knight Captain’s Leonard had hair as white as snow, and carmine eyes reminiscent of blood,’ huh? A direct reflection to his ice block personality and tragic, murderous past, no doubt. Well, this is enlightening. I never knew you had such preferences."

“Shut it! White hair is pretty, especially when coupled with red eyes! And he’s just misunderstood!” 

“Yeah, yeah, you couldn’t have stressed that enough with this paragraph over here. ‘It turns out that the Knight Captain’s heart is snow-white, just as he is a virgin and maidenless.’” 

"Hey! Don’t read it out loud! And I never wrote that last part! Stop altering my story as you please!"

…And the consensus that the two of you reached was, this.

You sat on his lap, a laptop resting atop yours. Aventurine rested his chin on your shoulder and read the whole thing. 

That was how you found out that your greatest motivator was also your harshest critic.

"I’m not altering it. This is basically what you wrote: Knight Captain Leonard waited a whole decade just to say hi to his beloved maiden. Which part of him contradicts what I said, exactly?"

“What I’m trying to emphasize here is his loyalty and sincerity!” 

“Ah, yes. Great job on that one—I love how he worries over every little thing, perfectly ruining the mood and stalling progress. Well, that explains why we’re chapter 86 and handholding is still the peak of his romantic efforts. I’m on the edge of my seat right now—the gripping tale of the chaste Knight Captain Leonard as he embarks on a journey to find a safeword.”

"That's it! Aventurine, whatever grudge you have against quiet, dignified knights ends today! Knights are the epitome of grace and honor—chiseled features, noble hearts, and unwavering loyal—”

Before you could finish your sentence, he sealed your lips with his, stealing your breath away. Fiercely, he claimed every inch of your lips, as if demanding all of you. Then, he ended it with an angry bite on your upper lips.

“I get it. Now stop swooning over another man.”

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

No, I wasn't put by Hoyo to make this. This is simply self-indulgent. Anyone who wants to buy me Churin's perfume is free to slide into my DM, though. 🕶️

[mj-iza-writer]

By request of a few people. Part two of my recent story of water asphyxiation.

Whumpee had found themself on the receiving end of another water boarding treatment.

This time Whumpee's head was forced under water several times for thirty second intervals.

Whumpee was tied up in the cold basement again.

They were not cold though, they were fuming... bitter hatred for Whumper was keeping them nice and toasty down there.

The original plan was to kill Whumper in their sleep, but now, weeks later, death just seemed too easy for Whumper. They needed to pay.

The next day, Whumper came down, grinning ear to ear.

"Only a day or so before my big trip. You will be kept down here while I'm gone for a good part of the month. You better hope I decide to leave you some food down here", Whumper knelt down, "or maybe I should leave not quite enough so you'll will have to ration it. Are you even that smart?"

"I hate you. I hope you die", Whumper spat.

"My such a nasty little thing you've become since you found out about your rescue fails. So have you decided you have nothing left to live for, so why behave anymore", Whumper smirked, "should I give you another lesson?"

Whumper grabbed a fistful of hair and started to drag Whumpee to the stairs.

Going up, Whumpee studied Whumper's steps. As they lifted up a foot to the next step, Whumpee yanked back and caused Whumper to stumble.

By instinct to grab something, Whumper let go of Whumpee but was already tumbling down the steps. Whumpee raced down as fast as possible, so they wouldn't get crushed.

Whumper landed on the last steps and didn't move.

Whumpee timidly inched closer to Whumper. This was it, they were either going to be killed, or they had this one chance at freedom.

Whumper seemed to be unconscious.

Not missing a second, Whumpee turned and tried to fish the keys from Whumper's pocket for their handcuffs.

"This is almost impossible", Whumpee struggled, but finally, they successfully found the keys.

Whumpee struggled to drag and role Whumper's body to the far parts of the basement. There were shackles cemented to the floor and wall their.

"Why are you so heavy", Whumpee grunted, "is that why I don't get to eat? You eat it all."

Finally, Whumper was shackled.

Whumpee removed everything from Whumper. Phone, any keys. They finally decided it would be easier to just strip Whumper down to their under wear.

"Just like you did to me when I came here", Whumpee grinned as they cut away the clothes with a knife they found.

Whumpee laughed as Whumper seemed to be coming to consciousness.

"If you'll excuse me... I'm starving", Whumpee smirked, then hurried up the stairs.

Whumpee sat at the table with two freshly made sandwiches and a pan full of box mac and cheese.

They stuffed their face with food. It had been days since Whumper allowed them to eat. Whumpee chugged bottles of water and other things in Whumper's fridge.

"Whumpee get your fucking ass down here", Whumper yelled.

Whumpee almost ran and hid, but remembered they had the upper hand now.

They slank down the steps and looked across the room at Whumper.

"Unlock me this instant.... you are in so much trouble", Whumper yelled.

"No", Whumpee whispered.

"Let me go", Whumper watched them turn, "you better not leave me down here", Whumper pulled on the chains. They knew they didn't have a chance. Those chains were made to last. The key was the only way out.

Whumpee smiled as they stepped out of view.

"Whumpee", Whumper yelled again.

"I'm going to finish eating", Whumpee called down.

"You better not be eating my food."

The door slammed.

Whumpee came down later with a bucket.

"What are you doing?", Whumper frowned at them while they walked past to the shower.

"You have it coming Master", Whumpee stated snarkly.

"I'm going to kill you when I get out of this", Whumper pulled at the chains again.

"Well, I guess I should try to keep you like that then", Whumpee smiled as they came out.

Whumper could hear water running.

"I've already texted your friends to cancel your trip. I told them to send pictures. You ruined my life, I plan on returning the favor", Whumpee glared.

"Look, I'm sorry, you made yourself clear. If you let me out, I'll forgive you. We will pretend this didn't happen and move on with our lives", Whumper was becoming quite worried.

Whumpee scoffed, "you've had me here for so long, tortured me, ruined my entire life. Now that I have the upper hand, you want to try to make an agreement. I'm not going back. You will get to feel how I've felt", Whumpee went to check on the bucket, "starting with this."

Whumpee struggled as they carried out the heavy bucket of water.

"No no no", Whumper yelled.

Whumpee laughed evilly as they tossed the water on Whumper.

Whumper gasped and looked up at Whumpee with anger.

"You look like a drowned rat", Whumpee snickered.

"You've had your fun, but there will have to be a time where you will have to let me out. You'll run out of food, or something will happen", Whumper shook water away from their head, "I strongly suggest you take my offer of forgiveness. Untie me, you will be lightly punished, but we will forget this ever happened."

"No", Whumpee smirked, "I'm having to much fun. I haven't had this much fun in years."

"Oh, when I get out, oh, you are in for it", Whumper warned as Whumpee walked to the stairs, "mark my words."

Whumpee gulped as they reached the top step, "they're right, I might run out of food. What will I do then?"

Whumpee tiredly yawned, "maybe that will be my issue to figure out tomorrow."

Whumpee slept in Whumper's bed that night, it was so warm and cozy.

Whumper shivered in the basement.

"It's colder than I thought it was down here", Whumper's teeth chattered. They were still soaked.

"It won't be long, they will have to let me out of here", Whumper frowned, "I uh, may reconsider keeping them down here though. Especially being wet."

It was morning. Whumpee looked at Whumper's phone.

"This might be a long shot", Whumpee reached for it and started looking up how to videos.

How to order food... How to adult... How to survive a kidnapping.... What to do after you've been kidnapped.

"None of this makes sense", Whumpee turned the phone off.

Whumpee contemplated calling the police, but they grew angry again when they heard Whumper moving downstairs.

"They need to pay", Whumpee threatened.

As they walked past a calendar, they noticed just how much time Whumper would have been gone on their vacation.

A devious thought came to mind.

"It wouldn't kill you to give me food" Whumper glared as Whumpee came down the stairs, "if you let me out, I won't water board and you leave you down here anymore. I definitely see how unfair that was. I need to eat and tak..."

"You didn't feed me for three days. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours yet", Whumpee frowned.

"Yeah, well, I'm... I'm sorry", Whumper mumbled.

"Now you're sorry", Whumpee stormed closer and in blind anger slapped Whumper across the face.

Whumpee stared dumbly at Whumper, they were panicking on the inside. Whumper's glare pierced them deeply.

Something about the slap felt good though. They did it again and again and again.

"Are you done yet?", Whumper grunted.

"No", Whumpee sobbed, "everything you've done to me. Everything I wanted to be and do when I grew up just gone."

Whumpee thought back to the calendar.

"You know, I thought of something. You had a vacation planned. Your friends are gone, you're off of work for however long, and neighbors also know", Whumpee grinned evilly, "no one will think anything of you missing until I had my fun."

Whumper sighed, "Whumpee, you are turning into me. I know I've done terrible things, and you've revealed to me how they feel. I am truly honestly sorry. This isn't you though, you are not meant to be like this."

"Shut up", Whumpee slapped Whumper again. Tears streamed down their face, "you've done so much to me... you deserve all of this."

Whumpee stormed away and up the stairs.

Whumpee lay in Whumper's bed crying. They wanted their parents... their life back.

Whumpee glanced at the window. They were never allowed to look out the windows. Whumper didn't want to take a chance of Whumpee recognizing the neighborhood. Their family lived only a few blocks away.

Whumpee slowly crept to the window and opened the curtain carefully.

"Sunlight", Whumpee felt the warmth, and they looked around, "it feels so wonderful."

Whumpee grabbed Whumper's keys and wallet and went outside. With a deep breath, they left the property.

Down the sidewalk a little, they were overwhelmed with familiarity. They took off running. They knew this place.

They saw their old home in the distance.

"Mom... dad", Whumpee ran past the gate and to the door. They knocked loudly.

Someone came to the door that Whumpee didn't recognize.

"Can I help you?", they made a concerned face.

"Uhm is the Polaris family here. I'm sorry it's been a long time, I don't recognize you" Whumpee asked enthusiastically.

"They moved about a year and a half ago", the person frowned, "are you okay? Should I call someone?"

"No no, uhm I'm sorry to bother you, thankyou for helping me", Whumpee tried to hide their quivering lip.

Whumpee stormed down the stairs carrying a knife.

"What are you going to do with that?", Whumper scooted back in concern.

"You ruined everything", Whumpee waved the knife around angrily, "my family moved away. I know how close I was to being saved. Now they're gone, and I have no idea where", Whumpee yelled.

"Whumpee don't get any closer", Whumper tried to position their body to stand up, but everything was numb from sitting in the one position the chains allowed for.

In a final attempt, Whumper gave a quick shove to Whumpee when they got closer.

Whumpee fell to the ground, and the knife fell to their own arm.

"Ahh!", Whumpee screamed as blood came pulling out of their arm.

"Whumpee let me help you", Whumper tried to get closer and pull their arms apart.

"No don't touch me", Whumpee cowarded away and ran up the stairs.

Whumper sighed but noticed that in their haste, Whumpee left the keys on the floor.

Whumper looked at them and grinned.

As quietly as possible, they stretched out to the limits of the shackles and kicked the key back toward them.

"Whumpee Whumpee Whumpee", Whumper chuckled, "this is where you let your amateur show."

Whumper managed to wiggle around and unlock everything.

They slowly limped up the stairs. Still sore from being knocked down. Their body shaken from lack of food and their medicine they needed.

Whumper carefully opened the door and listened for movement.

"They're in the bathroom", Whumper whispered.

They tiptoed to the room. Went inside and slammed the door behind them.

Whumpee turned quickly. Fear and panic on their face. They felt their pockets.

"You left the keys you idiot", Whumper grinned, "sit down on the toilet, now. I already know you don't know how to bandage that properly."

Whumpee tried to attack Whumper but was stopped instantly.

"Ow ow ow", Whumpee winced as Whumper lifted their arms behind their back.

"Stop freaking fighting me", Whumper whispered in their ear, "I'm not trying to hurt you. I want to get this bleeding stopped so I can go get my medicine and eat something. I would have let you keep going until you realized I had the keys, but I need my medicine."

Whumpee stopped squirming, "medicine... oh crap."

"Oh yes", Whumper nodded, "now sit on the damn toilet and behave."

Whumpee fell forward a little when Whumper released them. They rubbed the ache in their arm while they sat down.

"What are you going to do to me?", Whumpee frowned as Whumper came back with towels and bandages.

"What would you like me to do to you", Whumper questioned, "what punishment do you think you deserve from making me fall down the stairs and keeping me hostage in the basement?"

"I could make you cookies", Whumpee looked down sheepishly as they watched Whumper bandage the cut.

"My sugars are out of wack, and you want to make me cookies", Whumper frowned, "are you trying to kill me?"

"Would it work?", Whumpee looked deep into Whumper's eyes.

"Nope, just make me sick, but you'd still be stuck with me", Whumper stood, "nice attempt though. All of this was quite eye opening."

Whumpee's stomach grumbled just then.

"Yeah, I'm feeling about like that myself", Whumper grunted, "how about we order food in."

"We?", Whumpee made a strange face.

"We", Whumper nodded, "I know you have my wallet. Where is it?"

Whumpee was tied to the table for dinner mostly to make sure they didn't attack Whumper again.

Whumper watched as Whumpee quickly scarfed the food down.

"What, are you afraid I'm gonna take it?", Whumper tried to joke.

Whumpee looked at them sadly and nodded.

Whumper frowned, "I guess poor choice of words."

Whumpee nodded again.

Whumpee struggled against the ropes, "why do I have to be tied up?"

"Because I don't need you to attack me again", Whumper pointed out, "I'm still sore from the stairs, and my medicine hasn't kicked in yet. You'll remain tied up until I feel comfortable that you won't try to kill me again."

Whumpee huffed, "I still hate you, but I feel bad I forgot your medicine."

"That's fair. I know I made your life hell for the last couple of years, and I did horrible things to you out of glee. I guess that momentary power exchange helped me realize how I was treating you. Every time you did something to me, I had a moment of realization. I would like to keep you here still, I guess can we just remake our relationship to more of an employer/ employee role instead of this mess we have already."

Whumpee looked down, "so you want everything that I went through to be forgotten. You get to live happily while I still have to live through the trauma you caused me. I'm still stuck here, am I not."

Whumper frowned.

"And because I have nowhere else to go. All of my hopes and dreams taken from me, you get this slave", Whumpee looked up with a glare.

"What did you want to be when you grew up", Whumper leaned back in the chair, "you've mentioned that a few times."

"I-I wanted to be a traveler. I wanted to get away from my family and travel. I had so many destinations in mind. Europe, Asia, Africa, South America.... I even wanted to see the North Pole", Whumpee smiled at the memories.

"North pole?", Whumper repeated.

"It was a childhood thing. Christmas was always the best part of the year in my home. No one argued or anything. It was peaceful. I always wanted to thank Santa for making Christmas nice for me. That was always my wish at least", Whumpee sniffled.

Whumper sighed, "was your family abusive towards you."

Whumpee looked down and nodded.

"Then why did you want to be rescued by them?", Whumper sighed, "you wanted them to come back for you."

"Everyone wants to be rescued Master and it didn't necessarily have to be them rescuing me", Whumpee smiled weakly.

"I see", Whumper nodded then clicked their tongue on their teeth in thought, "I want to make it up to you, in all honesty it scared me that you had all of this figured out. I think you scared me straight. I don't know how I'm going to do that though."

Whumper and Whumpee sat in silence.

"You know I was thinking... how long ago did your family move away?", Whumper stood up and started to clear the table.

"The person said a year and a half", Whumpee frowned.

"They didn't wait long after your announcement. It almost seemed they gave up and moved away... not much remorse", Whumper frowned.

"You're trying to get into my head and I won't allow it", Whumpee glared, "you'll make me feel comfortable, then you'll punish me. You'll get back at me in time for doing acting out "

"Whatever you say Whumpee", Whumper sighed, "Im ready for bed", Whumper yawned, "not exactly comfortable down there."

"I know", Whumpee mumbled indignantly.

Whumpee was tied up and layed on the floor of Whumper's room.

"Seems you made yourself comfortable in my bed", Whumper frowned at the tossed sheets and blankets.

Whumpee nodded, "I haven't slept in a bed in years. I-it was comfy a-and warm."

"Ymhmm" Whumper turned the light off.

Whumpee laid in the dark for a few minutes before they allowed some tears to fall.

Whumper sat up after hearing a few sniffles.

"You need to go to sleep", Whumper turned the light on and looked at Whumpee. "I'm allowing you to lay in my room as the carpet is softer. What else do you want from me?"

"You don't get it", Whumpee yelled, "you don't get it. Do you know how much I went through by your hands? I finally get some ounce of freedom, and it's gone already. My family goes on thinking I hated them. I'm alone, and you think laying me on your floor is some sort of reward."

Whumper frowned... normally this was where Whumpee would be getting kicked, but Whumper didn't know what to do now. They had felt what Whumpee felt, and they were honestly a little nervous of just how angry Whumpee had gotten and how much damage could have been done."

Whumper got out of bed, and walked over to Whumpee.

Whumpee tried to fold into themself to protect their stomach.

They looked up weirdly when Whumper tried to pick them up.

"Man I don't know what I hurt falling down the stairs, but I'm not going to be able to move you around as easily as I did before", Whumper frowned.

Finally, Whumper got up enough strength to heave Whumpee up and toss them into the bed.

Whumper took several large gulps of air and leaned on the bed tiredly.

"What are you doing to me now?", Whumpee glared.

Whumper sighed as they stood up and walked to the opposite side of the bed, "just shut up and go to sleep."

Whumper tossed the blanket on top of themself and Whumpee.

"You're allowing me to sleep here?", Whumpee frowned as Whumper turned the light off.

"For right now... until I figure out something else to do", Whumper turned over, "I'm too tired to deal with you. Now go to sleep."

In the morning, Whumpee woke up to Whumper picking them up.

"What... wait?", Whumpee thrashed, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry."

Whumper struggled to hold them up and finally let Whumpee fall back to the bed.

"What the heck... you idiot? Why are you fighting me so much?"

"You were going to water board me or something... I know it. I got too comfortable, and... and... and you were going to punish me now", Whumpee whimpered, "I'm sorry... I know I shouldn't have done it... I just, I just wanted...", Whumpee looked down as tears fell to their cheeks.

Whumper frowned as they watched Whumpee, "okay... okay... calm down. I didn't know I ruined you this much", Whumper knelt beside the bed.

"What did you think would happen after treating someone the way you treated me?", Whumpee sobbed.

"I guess I never considered it. I never thought of the end result, I only lived in the moment", Whumper reached for a tissue and wiped at Whumpee's face, "I know it hurt you... that I hurt you. I was disconnected from that realization. I never meant to hurt you, that wasn't my original plan with bringing you here. I wanted you to do housework for me, yeah, but I think being trapped down in the basement gave me time to think. I want to make it up to you if you'll allow me."

Whumpee sniffled a little more, "I don't think you will be able to make it up to me any time soon", Whumpee looked down, "I'm not ready to forgive you for everything you did to me."

"I understand that, but I can work toward it", Whumper frowned, "will you let me at least try to do that. You have to at least promise me you won't attempt to kill me if I untie you. You make me a little warry right now."

Whumpee thought quietly for a few moments before nodding.

"Okay", Whumper nodded back before reaching up and undoing the knotts.

"So uh... how exactly do you plan on making it up to me?", Whumpee rubbed their sore wrist.

"Well you said you enjoyed traveling and wanted to go places. I also enjoy traveling, though I don't plan on going to the North Pole. We can go on trips. We can learn more about each other", Whumper smirked, "I can't let you leave though."

Whumpee frowned at Whumper and was about to yell.

"You have nowhere to go now, and I saw my search history on my phone", Whumper stood, "I don't think you'd last long out their."

Whumpee blushed and looked away.

"I know that's my fault though", Whumper nodded, "I'll teach how to adult, and be able to travel. If there is ever a time you get freed from me you can at least be a little self-reliant out there. This world is a mess though."

"I'll agree on one condition", Whumpee looked toward the window.

Whumper looked at the window and saw it was opened.

"I don't want to be trapped in here anymore, I want to be able to see the outside again. You can set rules, I'm fine with serving a master as long as they're fair to me, but I don't want to be left inside anymore", Whumpee frowned, "and no more water boarding me."

"No I won't do that to you anymore, and yes we can consider some rules so you can go outside. Sound fair", Whumper stood, "plus now that I'm aware you enjoy traveling I can take you on trips instead of my idiot friends."

Whumpee looked up at them and grinned.

"Okay let's go get breakfast", Whumper turned.

Whumpee jumped from the bed and hurried to follow Whumper.

"Breakfast sounds good", Whumpee whispered.

By special request of: @3-2-whump , @defire @fa1rie

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @clevah-girlboss

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Idk how this even works properly so correct me if I did something wrong

14! Gn reader with Kenji, and Kyoka in Teyvat

If you were not alone

Part II

______

Self-Aware! BSD AU x SAGAU Imposter crossover

Character: Self-Aware! Platonic! Kenji Miyazawa, Self-Aware! Platonic! Kyouka Izumi

Reader: 14! GN! Reader

Warning: English is my second language

____

🐄🐰 One moment you, Kyouka and Kenji were going back home from school.

The second moment you three were in a middle of Chinju Forest.

Kenji took the sudden trip better, than Kyouka and you. The sun was shining, wind was blowing, and, according to your knowledge about the game, Teyvat's people are more or less friendly, and there are travelers from another world.

So, after getting some rest, you three will go to the nearest city and search for dimensional travelers. Everything will be alright.

Besides, local tanukis are so cute, and Ioroi was fun to talk to.

Kenji's optimism was contagious. He does have a point. You aren't looking for troubles. Besides, Traveler and Alice are friendly. They won't hurt you three.

With your spirit up, you started your journey to Grand Narukami Shrine. In Guide, Alice mentioned, that she knew Yae Miko. And Yae did publish said Guide. Maybe, kitsune knew, how to reach Alice.

During your walk, you looked up. And a chill run down your spine. Celestia was gone. A clod, sticky horror squeeze your heart. You knew from somewhere, that it was wrong.

Something terrible has happened.

You decide to think about it when you reached Shrine. You will have time.

🐄🐰 You were lucky. Yae Miko was here, in the shrine. Everything looked normal. Kenji, with big smile on his face, walked towards her, asking for help. But then Yae Miko looked at you. Disbelief, horror, worry. Before someone could react, Yae dragged you three inside the shrine's building.

When the door closed behind you, Yae grabbed your cheeks, looking at your face at every angle. You notice, how Demon Snow appeared behind Kyuoka, drawing its sword.

Yae's voice was trembling.

"Don't waste your power on me, child. Soon you will need it to protect yourselves."

🐄🐰 During Yae's explanation, you felt, how Kyuoka and Kenji sat closer to you. Like they were afraid, that you will be attacked any moment now. Because of orders of 'Creator'.

Yae explained, that just few hours ago, that Creator preformed some sort of ritual. A ritual of finding sinners… People, who looked similar to Creator. Who looked similar to you. And if someone sees you, they would attack. Would try to capture you.

Yae secretly get you away from Narukami Shrine. You weren't safe in Inazuma. Still, Yae asked you to stay here. Until she gets answer from Alice and her whereabouts.

"Run, children. Alice the adventurer might help you. If you managed to get to her, she might find a way to return you home."

When you left, she sent a letter to Alice. The only thing that was left is wait.

🐄🐰At the end of the week, you three were still in Inazuma. And you have a bunch of people on your tail.

And you were worried. Mostly, about Kenji and Kyuoka. They were your friends/adopted siblings. And they were protecting you. Kenji was starving himself, afraid of not being able to help during attack. Kyuoka was constantly using Demon Snow to search for dangers. And it looked like, using their abilities, tried them.

You tried to help as much as you can. You took cooking and keeping camp warm and clean on yourself. You insisted on guarding the camp at night, letting Kyuoka and Kenji sleep.

Despite two of you having abilities, you were just three teens. And you three missed home and the rest of BSD's Cast.

🐄🐰 Second week were better. Thanks to Kenji's kindness, you now were hiding in Yoimiya's house. Who could think, that playing with local kids will let you find help?

Now you were more or less protected.

Kyuoka, Kenji and you even met Itto and Arataki's Gang. They were a loud, but friendly bunch.

🐄🐰 One day, Kuki brought a letter from Yae. Alice will wait for you in Fontaine. She even found a way for you to get here.

After tearful goodbye from Yoimiya and her father, you three, under protection of Itto and his gang, reached Ritou's Island.

Where Chiori was waiting for you.

"So, Creator want to capture three teens? How low Teyvat will sink, I wonder? Okay, kids, let's do some dress up."

🐄🐰 For the next few days, you, Kenji and Kyuoka, dressed in Fontaine clothes, were pissing as Chiori's workers, who were helping to get silk from Inazuma to Fontaine.

Trip were doing fine.

You were so close to getting home.

You just need to find Alice.

🐄🐰In her letter Alice mentioned, that she attends all performances in Opera House. Chiori managed to get tickets for three of you on one of it.

You three celebrated by going to the wilderness and having a picnic.

Unfortunately, Lyney and Lynette saw you three. And Demon Snow, who helped you to cut food. They knew what they must do. Father will be proud.

🐄🐰It happened one week ago. One week ago, when during the preference, Lyney and Lynette blew your cover. One week of captivity. One week of being separated from Kenji and Kyuoka. One week of Alice trying to get you out of captivity. One week of Chiori being under arrest.

You, tortured and bloodied, were standing before Ivory Throne. Lyney and Lynette were standing near Creator's throne. Gold medals were shining on their chests. Creator, your exact double, were grinning. They finally got you.

You heard the sounds of chains. You barely managed to make out Kyuoka's and Kenji's silhouettes.

Creator wanted to break them. Show your broken body.

Big mistake.

You heard screams. Sounds of stones crumbling.

Kenji's growling.

"I must help [Y/N]!"

Kyuoka's hissing.

"Demon Snow, destroy everyone, who hurt [Y/N]!"

You wanted home so bad. It was so wrong, to see Kyouka killing again. To see Kenji angry.

You wished, you three would be home.

Portal opened under your feet.

______

👘🗡️🌂 Fukuzawa Yukichi and Koyouou Ozaki weren't sleeping. They were discussing, what they should do next, trying to find your three.

👘🗡️🌂 Their train of thoughts was interrupted by a loud rumbling, coming from the barn. It was loud enough to woke everyone's up.

👘🗡️🌂 In the barn were you three, and two strange people. Kyouka was holding her knife above Lynette, while Kenji was trying to throw a bolder at Lyney.

And you were laying on the floor. Wounded, but alive.

👘🗡️🌂 It took Dazai's nullification, Fukuzawa 'turning off' Kyouka's and Kenji's abilities, Fukuchi's and Tetchou's strength to drag Kyouka and Kenji from Lyney and Lynette.

They will be dealt later. Now, you three are main priority.

______

👘🗡️🌂🐄🐰You three still were dealing with aftermath of Teyvat's events. You were guarding Kenji's and Kyouka's rooms at night. Kenji refused to eat. Kyouka was using Demon Snow to patrol the house. You three were now under Kunikida's watch. He was making sure, that you three were eating and sleeping. Fukuzawa and Koyouou were staying near. To console you, to protect you. They will make sure, that you will never need to be afraid of loosing your lives.

______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters

[ramblingoak]

Naps With Copia

Nap #10: Napping With Your Valentine

~ Naps With Copia series masterpost ~

For @pinklunarprincess 💙 who wanted Copia to play with their hair

Cardinal Copia x Reader

These are all stand alone chapters so you do not have to read one before the other! This series came from my post about wanting to nap with Copia all around the abbey. The stories will all have gender neutral readers and soft Copia naps.

Warnings: a very sappy Valentine's Day themed nap, I'm not sorry, sfw, 1k words, enjoy! (thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers)

You were going to be late.

Of all the days to be running behind it had to be today.  A day that Copia had been teasing you about for weeks now.  Weeks of silly clues and guessing games.  You had used every trick in the book (and in bed) to try to get him to tell you his plans for Valentine’s Day but he wouldn’t fess up.  It had gotten to the point he had started to avoid you, even turning heel and jogging away from you in the hallways.

He was lucky you loved him so much.

But now you had probably ruined everything.  He had been very specific about you being back to his quarters by noon.  Copia had planned a big lunch to treat you since there was a larger event for the entire congregation that evening.  The whole place had smelled amazing already as soon as you woke up.  He had been quick to usher you away, practically throwing your clothes at you so you didn’t try to sneak peeks into the tiny kitchen.

You had been huffy but finally obliged him, trudging down the halls to your office.  Thankfully today was supposed to be relatively easy.  No tours on the horizon, no conferences, no trips…just a morning of receiving deliveries for the party and then you’d be free by noon.  Free to eat whatever amazing meal Copia was creating and then free to hopefully make out a little on his couch.

It was Valentine’s Day after all.

Unfortunately it seemed your special lunch and making out time was doomed.  Delivery after delivery had been late and one truck had somehow managed to crash into the gate to the abbey grounds.  It had been 2pm by the time everything had been sorted out.  You were tired, starving and ready to snap at anyone that started your way with a clipboard in their hand.  Thankfully you were saved by Secondo who must have noticed you were at the end of your patience.

“Go on, let me take care of all of this.”

“Really?”  You took a few careful steps back, not sure if he was just teasing you or not.  “Are you sure?”

“Sì, I don’t want to deal with mio fratellino pouting the rest of the week.”

Secondo held out his hand for the delivery folders you had been balancing all morning, a soft smile on his face.  You couldn’t help but squeal, shoving the folders against his chest and then placing a loud, obnoxious kiss on his cheek.  He was sputtering something in Italian as you took off down the hall but you’d deal with his irritation later.  Right now you had a lunch date you were very, very late for.

As you stumbled into the main room it seemed like you were too late, Copia was nowhere in sight.  There was a cold meal on the table in the kitchen, candles long since gone out.  You couldn’t help but let out a groan, feeling absolutely terrible about ruining something Copia had spent so long planning.

“Amore?”

Copia’s sleepy voice broke you out of your spiraling thoughts and you quickly turned to the sound of his voice.  All you could see was his head poking up over the back of the couch, his hair sticking up all over the place.  He gave you a sleepy smile when he saw you and it grew when you moved closer.  You snorted when you made your way around the couch, seeing him stretched out in his bright red suit and covered in empty chocolate wrappers.

“You look like a valentine.”  He rolled his eyes but held his hands out for you, smiling when you kicked your shoes off and gently climbed onto the couch to lay against him.  “Cutest valentine ever.”

His cheeks pinked up a bit as he leaned in for a kiss but before his lips touched yours he jerked back, his eyes narrowing.

“Is that black lipstick?”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s from Secondo.”

“Sec–?  Wha–mmph.”  

He relaxed as you kissed him, his fingers slipping up to comb through your hair.  You made a soft noise in your throat as he rubbed his fingers along your scalp.  He always knew just how to touch you, just how to hold you and kiss you and make you feel like you were the most precious thing in the world to him.  After a few moments you pulled away, matching his sleepy smile with one of yours.

“I’m sorry I ruined our lunch.”

“Shh, no need to apologize, amore mio.  I already put the leftovers in the fridge, I can heat those up for you.”

When he made to get up you pressed your hands down on his shoulders, kissing his nose when he gave you a confused look.

“Let’s stay here a bit longer.  Please.”  

Copia nodded and settled back against the couch again, his fingers running through your hair once more.  He had started to braid parts of it, something he did in moments like this.  Moments where you were both relaxed and doing nothing more than enjoying each other's company.  You only moved when his chest rumbled under your ear as he spoke.

“How about we take a little nap, eh?  Then we can have an early dinner before the party.”

“That sounds perfect.”  He tilted your chin up so he could reach your lips, giving you a gentle, lingering kiss.  It was one of your favorite kinds of kisses from him.  Although this one had the added bonus of the hint of chocolate leftover from the candy he had eaten.  You couldn’t help but give his full bottom lip a little nibble before finally pulling away.  “Happy Valentine’s Day, Copia.” 

“And Happy Valentine’s Day to you, amore.  Now stop distracting me with your lips, let me nap.”  You rolled your eyes but dropped your head down onto his chest, sighing when one of his hands went back to your hair.  “But when we wake up you’re going to explain why you were kissing Secondo.”

Despite your body shaking with laughter, sleep was still quickly creeping up on you.  It wasn’t long before you were drifting off, your arms wrapped tightly around the best valentine anyone could ask for.

~ Naps With Copia series masterpost ~

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

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