#actually look at and share the other things I make too lol

[subwillsolace]

try shit tuesday nsfw reference post

ongoing and (hopefully.) frequently updated! here is a list of my current ideas & hopefuls including any outlines or snippets i have available.

set up will look like:

idea

general outline/summary

snippet

will having a nerd kink

will is trying to study in cabin 13, because its quieter than 7. but it is raining, so nico is hosting a mythomagic (functionally dnd) session with his nerd friends, and will cannot focus For Shit. he is so horny he is literally about to die. nico picks up on it eventually and kicks his friends out so he can fuck will while whispering stats in his ear. lol.

Oh, he is going to fail. He is going to fail for real. He tries, although he knows it's futile, to calm down the raging in his chest, his stomach. He stares at the walls, then looks quickly away when it is covered in photos of them, their friends; he looks to the door, where his jacket is hanging; to the bathroom, where their toothbrushes lean against each other in the cup; to the stupid bedpost, where Nico, bored out of his mind the last time Will banished him to bedrest, carved their initials in a heart. His heart explodes, a little. He can feel the pounding of it in his fingers and toes and squirms to try and quiet the heat in his hips and thighs. It does nothing except remind him of the bruises they get, sometimes, in the same shape of Nico's fingers, smarting in purple satisfaction. "Ohhhh, my gods," he whispers to himself, squeezing his eyes shut. There are still -- people here, people he knows and loves, and they are not looking at him and it makes them all that much easier to forget, because when he looks over again Nico is laughing, cackling, really, reading off a triumphant list of their consequences as they howl in outrage and whip unlucky dice at the wall. "You set us up!" hollers one of them -- Connor Stoll, Will thinks. "It was a trap, the whole time!" "And you fell for it," Nico taunts. "Oh, that was easy. Shoulda kept your head up, huh, hotshot? The clues were there. I was rooting for you." The noise that sounds out the back of Will's throat is so heady and embarrassing that he's grateful, suddenly, for the group of people in the way, being loud, because if anyone apart from himself heard it he's not sure he could live with himself. If Nico heard it...says a small voice in the back of his brain, and Will begs it to shut up. Instead, images flash in the forefront of his mind, edged hazy from the heat of Will's memory: Nico, eyes dark; Nico, too-sharp canines gleaming in the low light; Nico, sweat beading on his smirking top lip; Nico, Nico, Nico.

hermes/will/nico threesome (to punish cecil for his crimes).

cecil pushes things a touch too far and will loses his entire mind. in revenge, he vows to fuck cecil's dad, not only to cause him menial distress by virtue of 'i fucked your dad' but, because, when they were young, they slept together, and will keeps a diary. so he is going to fuck cecil's dad to report back to him stroke for stroke how he compares. cecil considers suicide. not only cecil, actually, because will is stomping around camp trying to find ways to make himself hotter for hermes' next delivery, and it is working, and nico, yearning, is Fucking Struggling, and oh yeah, worse, will has asked him to help 'practice kissing' as he is out of practice. he is not flirting, he's serious. nico is going to kill him, and then also die. luckily for him will starts to clue in when when hermes takes him somewhere nice, and lucky for will hermes is willing to share.

"So maybe this is secretly a good thing," Cecil defends, foolishly. He straightens his back, crossing his arms stubbornly. "See, I -- saved you. From a day of work and misery." He juts out his chin, turning his head primly to the side. "Maybe you should be thanking me." A sharp gasp rips through the gathered crowd, every single person reacting viscerally and bodily; some, bet-winners, in delight, most in total, dumbfounded shock. Lou Ellen, of the first to recover -- perhaps of the most used to it -- stands on a large rock and begins reciting a long and quite touching obituary for the son of Hermes from the top of her head. Will, for a solid couple minutes, does not move. His spine is set in total rigidity, hands frozen in fists at his side. In what Nico first thinks is a trick of the eye, there is, between the skin showing through dried, cracking paint, a flicker. And then, like beams of light bursting through a cracking chunk of magma, he glows. "Gone, but never forgotten," recites Lou Ellen, increasingly seriously, "he will be remembered for his bravery, or perhaps the bubbles in his brain that allowed it, and for the gruesome, brutal way that he is going to be killed, just about right now. Cecil Markowitz, you will be --" Will' shoulders twitch. Cecil squeezes his eyes shut. The distant sounds of crashing waves fade away. And then, Will laughs. He doubles over. He places his stained hands on his still-wet knees and wheezes; in moments, there is a chuckle, and then there are giggles, and then the rest of the crowd laughs, too -- nervous, and relieved; wide-eyed and tense. "Haha," says Cecil, glancing around anxiously, "you forgive me, right, Will, 'cause that sounds like your crazy laugh, a little, and --" All at once Will yanks himself upright. The crowd immediately silences. Nico holds his breath. Will's smile is small, and crazed, His eyes are so dilated that they are bluer than the sun, almost no black to be found -- he stares at Cecil so intensely and so unblinkingly that Nico can actually taste his dread. "I am going to fuck your dad," Will says, grinning. "I'm gonna -- seduce your actual living father."

nico fucking will while on the phone

outlined here

"Nico," he gasps, hand tightening in his hair, "Nico, Niccolò, please, please --" "I got you," Nico murmurs, stomach writing, "I got you, princess -- " he grins when Will shouts, pushing up his rumpled shirt -- "you're so good --" A loud, piercing ringing makes them both freeze. It persists, and then the pocket of Nico's discarded jacket starts buzzing, and he groans. "Leave it," Will hisses. "Just -- come here --" "I can't," Nico says miserably. "It's --" Will knows who it is, because he groans, loudly, and slumps against the pillows. Nico untangles himself guiltily and digs his stupid phone out of his pocket. "Hello, boy." "What," Nico snaps. Which is probably not the way to greet the Lord of the Dead, but. Will huffs, rolling his eyes. Nico tries to link their fingers together but he snatches his hand away, sulking back against the headboard. Sorry, Nico mouths, hands spread. Will kicks his shoulder. Nico catches his foot, turning his leg and pressing a kiss to his ankle. Will visibly softens, then gets huffy about having given in so easily. Nico grins. "You are not paying attention to me." "No, no, I'm --listening." Nico winces, glancing down at the phone. "Uh, insolence, respect, your holy position as my father, etc, etc." "...You are the worst heir I have ever created." "Yeah, well, unfortunately for you you're shit out of options, so --"

god & prince consort solangelo centuries in the future; will c0ckwarming nico in the court

outline and snippet both here

will getting teased with 'goddamn yall fuck so often you're gonna end up pregnant' and uh oh that Does Something For Him

the thing is that nico has a cabin to himself and will is in there all the time and he might take his medical bad in there for show but not a fucking soul believes him. everyone knows what he is going in there for. mostly because people have brains but also because will is. Loud. and once in passing someone teases "damn will with all i hear going on in there i wouldn't be surprised if nico knocked you up." and its a stupid fucking joke and will haha yeahs his way out of it but Oh Gods he cannot stop thinking about it. it is All he thinks about. and one day when nico is off hunting errant souls or whatever will is holed up in his cabin, just escaping everybody else for a bit, and the bed smells like nico and hes wearing nicos shirt even though its too tight and nico has been gone a couple days and he Misses Him. fuck. in a lot of different ways. so he starts to get horny and hes fingering himself and imagining nico behind him talking low in his ear. the nico in his imagination is a little teasing and rough as he usually is and hes got four fingers stretching himself imagining theyre nico's and imaginary nico says, "Look how good you're taking my fingers up your pretty pussy," and its like, out of nowhere, a little, and will is not expecting it from his own subconscious and he Loses it and cums so hard he damn near blacks out for a second and he blinks himself stable and is like well, fuck.

because nico is gay as all fuck.

nico gets back and will is DODGY. distant and jumpy and keeps finding excuses to not be around him and nico is like 🤨 something is Not Right. so he threatens celibacy until will cracks and hes like okay remember that. stupid fucking joke. and nico is like no?? obviously?? so will has to explain and he is more and more embarrassed and gets quieter and quieter until he just trails off looking into his lap tense as all fuck. not sure what he's waiting for but he knows it's not going to be good. a gentle rejection, hopefully.

but nico is so hard it is actually painful.

and hes surprised at himself a little because he wouldnt expect this to get him off so bad but th emore he imagines it the more like fuckin Unwell he is. so they fuck and nico id very careful with his dirty talk and hot damn does will ever clench up and its just hot as fuck truly.

lou ellen/will/cecil threesome

porn no plot. cecil/lou established. watching will play volleyball and like.......damn. they look at each other. they nod. no words need be spoken. they invite will back to lou's cabin to 'hang out' and come onto him and he goes Bright Red but is very happy to be fucked yeah.

s3x pollen fic where if will isnt constantly getting pumped full of sp3rm his heart will literally stop. cue him getting fcked for hours on hours by literally everyone willing.

outline here

will getting injured and forced on bedrest and hes so bored and frustrated and horny that nico just has to f ck him. but regular f cking will jostle his injury so he fists him

outline here

mortal au

will gives nico a kitkat after every time they fuck and nico slowly realizes he's being pavlov'd into being a ridiculously good fuck. mostly a comedy and a porn without plot of will and nico fucking in various ways in their early 20s dorm days.

will getting teased about being a pillow princess and getting so mad about it that he rides nico so hard that nico accidentally forces the day to turn into night and sends the actual northern hemisphere into turmoil

will gets teased about being a pillow princess. implied he wouldn’t have the endurance to do what nico does. and he gets PRESSED. scowly and mad and celibate (nico is regretting his words hard lol) and Scheming. will pops in his cabin one day going hey give me your credit card. and nico does, obviously, but he’s like babe hey i was Joking. it was a bad joke. i’m sorry. you do lots and im sure you could do just as much if not more and i’m sorry okay. please. and will is like oh you’re SURE? that’s how it is. and nico is ready to collapse on the ground or go back in time to kick his own ass bc he hasn’t had to like handle himself with his own hand for YEARS this is torture. will is nowhere to be found all day and he sleeps in the apollo cabin at night it’s awful. (it has been 2 days.).

one day he wakes up to a note telling him to go to manhattan but NOT to shadow travel so he’s confused and walks slowly to half blood hill where there’s a LIMO waiting for him. with a real and very confused mortal driver. he gets taken to this Massive fckn ornate hotel and bell hopped up to the fckn penthouse and his bags are brought in, he’s quietly told his room service is waiting for him in the bedroom, and at this point nico isn’t even horny he’s so goddamn confused. what’s going on. where’s will. is this his fathers doing. is he about to die. huh. but he walks into the room sword lowkey drawn and there’s WILL, in the Sluttiest scrubs he’s maybe ever seen in his life, eyes professionally distant and holding a bottle of oil in his hands telling him to lay down for a massage. and nico is like well okay i am not complaining. i still don’t know entirely what’s going on but i am not complaining. so he gets his massage and it’s hot as fuck obviously bc will is good with his hands and then yeah, it does have a happy ending. will sucks him off and it’s GREAT.

but then will pushes him back against the headboard and uses his own tie (or something i have not yet decided) to tie his hands to the headboard. and will is calling him my prince and your highness and shit and kissing down his chest and nico is WRITHING and then. and then. will rides him so fckn hard. like rides him to orgasm and then KEEPS GOING. that he has a second orgasm so explosive that. the actual day turns into night. like the fckn sun shuts off people gather confused into the streets wondering if it’s somehow a solar eclipse like its MAYHEM. will laughs himself to Tears nico is humiliated his phone is ringing off the hook with his dad going WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO and will is Cackling like he has never been more vindicated in his life. SO MUCH FOR NO ENDURANCE HUH.

but they ignore it and will carries him over to the giant bathtub and gently and carefully washes him like he really is a prince. and nico drags him into the tub and they kiss and nico fucks him slowly, this time, he does nothing and he is so pretty and it is so so good. and he has his face in the hollow of will’s throat and he’s like i’m sorry. you know i love you, right. i don’t need all of this to be happy. to get off. i like doing you. i like it when you sit there and make pretty faces for me. i like seeing you gone on my cock. and will is kind of emotional and breathless and he goes promise and nico slides into him and his breath is hot on wills neck and he promises.

will and cecil's first time

goof ass outline here this will not be a serious fic

will and nico's first time

outline & snippet kind of here

nico using his shadow travel abilities to portal his d1ck so he fucks will's face but will feels it up his ass

yeah not much else to day. that would be the fic.

[lucalicatteart]

A few silly little small sculptures that I made with some of the leftover clay from the main one I did recently

[vaguely-concerned]

kill me

(*wobbly tearstained voice* this is father & son richard plantagenet in henry vi part 3 1983 dir jane howell btw. which is. extremely good)

[yakny]

Knight Bobo, wearing some of the patterns I drew :D!

[sysig]

Year of the Candy Villain, Or Else (Patreon)

[seaofreverie]

The Me who bought tickets to see TMBG in february 2023 and the Me who's going to actually go to the show next month are two completely different people

[mimiatmidnight]

Will you be commenting on the Taylor drama?

I love the way this was worded, like I'm one of the siblings on Succession and the press has cornered me outside my penthouse to ask if I'll be releasing a statement on my family's latest scandal. Hehehe anyways.

Sorry but I just don't understand how anyone is shocked. Truly what has that woman ever done to successfully convince people that this is out of character for her. Like I don't want to diminish anyone's pain or anything but I see all these stans on here and over on Twitter in all this distress, having their very first epiphanies like "Hold on . . . does Taylor . . . suck??" And I kinda just have to chuckle at them cause like bless your hearts babes, but omg catch UP 😭

Lol because 1) she is a severely emotionally stunted person who thinks edgy British "bad boys" are hot like she's 12 years old, 2) she has no true deeply-held moral principles outside of issues that directly affect herself, and 3) truthfully, she seems to be suffering from a serious crisis of identity after the end of the longest and most significant romantic relationship of her life, and in my opinion is pretty clearly desperate to prove something to the world/her ex/herself.

The first reason is cringe but not news to longtime viewers, the second reason is pathetic but also not news (to those who can be honest with themselves), and the third is . . . understandable in some sense, but not pitiable enough to make me willing to humor this insufferable little episode she's having. I wish her luck on this humiliating rebound journey, but she is gonna have to walk that road on her own.

Normally, I always roll my eyes when people make these kinds of jokes, but given the circumstances I feel justified in saying: I can't wait to hear the breakup song about him, sis 🤡

[sheyshen]

Something I want to build on with vincent at some point is how much the years of being an adventurer has taken a toll on him. he spent so long just being angry at the world but as he gets closer and closer to carteneau he does start recognizing how reckless he's been and the mistakes he's made over the years. friendships (especially with layla and nhea) helping him get a little closer to how he used to be before finally stopping and trying to do better for himself when he loses his leg. and the fact that guilt has really solidified in him to still make him push himself in his healing rather than combat (though sometimes still pushing himself too far) and how the years of treating himself like a weapon have taken a toll on his mind (he has terrible nightmares that only a select few have been able to help him through it)

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

creating a spreadsheet of the trio's lines in the webnovel vs webcomic (as one does), and. i am on the FLOOR their characterisation differs so much from the webnovel and webcomic?!?!??? 😭😭 they took away all of hestio's flavour!!! and Ephael is a lot more stereotypical sunshine too i am losing my mind

Gone:

In the toy mansion, Ephael said that Tesilid was not just his friend, but his "best friend", so Ailette gave him more food. Hestio got very visibly sad and angry.

Whenever they're in battle, Hestio kind of talks to Ephael like he's a P*kemon ("Ephael, go and bite them!" / "Uh... okay.")

Ephael is pretty quiet and subdued throughout the toy mansion, while in the comic he's very artificially cheery.

ALMOST THE ENTIRETY OF HESTIO'S LINES WHEN THEY SNUCK TESILID FOOD IN PRISON IS GONE?!?!?!?? 😭😭😭😭😭😭 THE VIBES ARE SO DIFFERENT

Webnovel has BOTH Hestio and Ephael handing over food (in the webcomic only Ephael brought food. I dunno what Hestio was doing there.)

ONLY the webnovel has Hestio's extremely cute "What? Are you going to refuse the food because the rules are important? (annoyed but also genuinely scared)" / ".....I thought I'd have to shove the food down your mouth if you refused. Well, eat up."

The webcomic has Hestio suddenly ruin the entire mood by saying "🙄😒 did you know 🤓 the vatican is taking things out on you bc you refuse to kill heretics. also idc if the heretics are actually evil or not, what matters is that the vatican wants to know if youre on their side." like stfu please 😭 In the webnovel Hestio only brings this up because Ephael went "cheer up! if it werent for the city making a fuss, the vatican wouldn't have done this" and Hestio corrected him bc he wanted Tesilid not to misunderstand his situation with the Vatican.

What did they make comic!Hestio so callous for !!!!! 😭😭😭 Hestio is a SOFTIE with a mean streak and sharp tongue!!!

[em1i2a3]

Carry The Zero

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/Sentry (or The Void) x Avengers!Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Bob are sharing a room while the Avengers Compound is under renovations, which brings on a slew of new things to learn about one another.

Warnings: Semi Spoilers for Thunderbolts I guess because Bob is in here. Other than that there is nothing too extreme happening in here, it’s a bit emotional, but there is fluff in here, I would kind of describe this as a Hurt/Comfort fic than anything. There are mentions of abuse and there is also some heavy petting maybe? I mean, I’ll put that in here to cover my booty lol.

Authors Note: My second viewing of Thunderbolts truly got my mind racing for what to write in regard to Bob. Thought I would put out this lil blurb and probably add more to it later in another segment or something! Anyways! Enjoy y’all and happy premiere weekend!!! :)

Word Count: 6,784

The room wasn’t built for two people, that’s what you knew for sure. It used to be a storage space, at least that is what you assumed judging by the various filing cabinets that lined the area, the dented lockers that were near the door, and the strewn papers that nobody decided to throw away in preparation for the move-in. The only thing that was the saving grace was the fact that the place had a window that let you look out onto the city. But it still didn’t truly make up for the cramped space, even though they were able to shove two twin sized beds inside it and call it a room–which showed how effective their planning was throughout all the chaos.

The Avengers Compound was still under renovations after a security breach took out part of the living space, meaning everyone needed to be shuffled like cards in a losing deck. Room assignments were given unwillingly to everyone, and you had been paired with Bob.

It was weird to be rooming with someone who had the power of a million exploding suns as people liked to say, because even though he carried that on his sleeve sheepishly, his personality certainly didn’t match that of a person who could take down the entire world. He was shy, quiet, and careful, tip-toeing around you like you were going to snap at him at any second–which was not the case at all.

Compared to the other options you had you actually preferred to be rooming with him.

The first few days had passed in near silence. You didn’t talk much, you’d only go into your room to sleep or change, and when you would do something outside of those two things Bob would rush out pretty quickly, apologizing nervously under his breath, like he thought you were obligated to time alone.

He’d go to bed early, and you’d catch him reading beneath the awful buzzing lamp that was left in the room from before the two of you moved in. You never really asked him what he was reading because the title was always changing, like he couldn’t finish anything, or he had so much time to himself he was finishing books like they were snacks.

Then there were little things you began to notice.

He’d pace a lot, wring his hands in his lap, or pick at the skin on his fingers. He was clean, he never left shoes in the middle of the room, and always lined them up neatly under his bed frame, even yours. He would flinch at loud noises, like if there was a childish argument happening in the communal kitchen and things got too high in volume he would get a little twitchy. He was observant, and paid attention to everything around him–sometimes you would hear him talking to himself, repeating fragments of conversations from earlier in the day, like it grounded him in some way.

He had his routine and you respected it as much as possible, but tonight was entirely different.

You were coming in late from training, and a med bay visit.

The scrape on your shoulder wasn’t serious, but it was bad enough to have Bucky send you down to get checked out. It was standard–some antiseptic, a lecture from one of the nurses about being more careful and aware of your surroundings, and then you were released with a warning, and a fresh bandage. You were exhausted, sore, and annoyed with yourself for not paying attention and letting your guard down during a simulation, especially because the past few nights had been like that.

By the time you reached your floor, the halls were quiet. There wasn’t any bickering or discussions happening in the kitchen, nobody was lingering in the living room with post-mission jitters, it was just peace, for once.

You stopped at the fridge to pick yourself up a bottle of electrolytes, then paused, eyeing the row of them. You bit your inner cheek, and after a second of hesitation you grabbed another one for Bob, tucking it against you.

You figured he would be awake like he always was when you were on your training nights. You weren’t sure if he was just waiting for you or if he was just incapable of resting when you weren’t accounted for, but you never asked.

Slowly, you moved down the hall, twisting the cap off your drink with a wince when you strained just a little too much, causing the bandage to sting beneath your shirt. You gritted your teeth and let out a frustrated grunt.

“Gotta take it easy on yourself.” You heard Bucky say from behind you. You turned on your heel, seeing he was still in his training gear, also holding a bottle of electrolytes as well, “You’re gonna burn out if you don’t take breaks.” You shifted under his gaze.

”I want to be better, that’s why I’m training. If you got your ass handed to you on the field you would be doing the same.” He shook his head.

”No. I would be resting and seeing what I could do better the next time. Don’t come to training for the rest of the week, just relax and recoup, we’ll revisit your regimen when you’re better.” Before you could say anything he typed his code in for his room, and was out of your sight. You could feel your body seething as you turned back around to continue making your way down the hall. You’d seen it coming from a mile away just by the way he was watching you during the simulation but you never thought he would say anything to you like that. It just added another layer of annoyance as you reached your room.

You pushed the door open gently, careful not to let the hinges creak too loudly. The room was dark, which was unexpected, Bob’s light wasn’t even on. The only thing that was illuminating the room was the shimmer of city lights, casting silver-blue shadows across the floor.

Bob was in bed, lying on his side facing you, with his blanket tugged up to his neck. His face was soft in the low light–features relaxed, eyes closed. Sleeping, or at least you thought he was. You lingered in the doorway for a moment, squinting in the dimness of the room to see him a bit better.

His light brown hair looked a little messy, like he’d been shifting around for a while before finally settling on the position he was in now. You wondered how long he was lying like that, or if he had been waiting for your return but fell asleep in the process, and now you felt even worse than before.

You let the door close softly behind you with a gentle click, removing your shoes slowly, one at a time. Every motion felt heavier than it should have–dull with fatigue, and edged in frustration. You padded across the narrow space, keeping your steps quiet, with the extra bottle of electrolytes tucked against you, the condensation seeping through your training jacket.

You crouched slowly beside Bob’s bed, biting back a wince as your muscles tensed in protest, while you placed the bottle down on the floor, angling it so he’d see it when he woke up. It was a small, quiet offering, just something kind, a consideration in a way. You took your next moves slowly as you stood up and turned to your own bed with a tired exhale, putting the cap back on your drink and throwing it onto your bed. One hand rose to the zipper of your training jacket, pulling it down in a swift movement, teeth grinding while you pushed the fabric off your shoulders, feeling pain erupt from your ribs and shoulder now, the muscles pulsing with burning heat.

The cool air of the room hit your skin instantly, and your tank top didn’t do much to hide any of your injuries from the environment. Your back arched with the grating sting that came through you, and one hand came up to press against the bandage, making sure it was still on properly and not tugging at your skin. The ache was sharp and pulsing, and when your fingers came away damp, you already knew there was blood seeping through the gauze. You grimaced but didn’t consider making another trip to the med bay. You were too tired to care at this point, and it wasn’t something that would cause you to bleed out, so it was a morning issue to deal with.

You turned toward your dresser, collecting a pair of cotton shorts and an oversized sweater that smelled faintly of sage, throwing both articles of clothing down onto your bed with a soft plop. You rolled your shoulder gently, testing the range of motion in it with a quiet wince before reaching for the hem of your tank top, peeling the rough fabric up your skin carefully, trying to avoid the worst of the sting, though even at your slowest pace you could feel the movement pulling at the wound.

The cotton clung briefly to the tape of the gauze and the dried sweat that coated your skin before finally giving way, and coming off completely. You let out a sigh of relief, as you let the fabric fall to the floor, reaching for your sweater next. The bandage on your shoulder throbbed with every shift you made, but it was the deeper bruises scattered across your body–ghosts of impacts from the past few days–that ached beneath your skin like an echoing thunder. You glanced down at yourself, taking in the way they bloomed across your ribs, stomach, and hips, at this point you could see more bruises than your actual flesh at this point, and they were tender, dark and swollen. Maybe Bucky was right, maybe you really did need a break…

Your fingers curled loosely into the hem of your sweater, but you didn’t think to pull it on yet, you just continued to look down at the wreck that was your body, and the longer you stared, the more numb you became. It was easy to take a break but it wasn’t deserved, you couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes during missions, and you knew you weren’t going to listen to Bucky, you would keep training until your body gave out.

You closed your eyes for a moment, before lifting the sweater towards you, ready to retreat into its softness, ready to disappear and call it a night, but then you heard it.

A breath. Sharp and quick. You froze in your spot.

Then came the sound of movement, the shuffling of the blanket, the mattress creaking under the shifting weight.

Your eyes darted toward Bob’s bed instantly, seeing that his back was now turned towards you. His blanket was pulled up around his shoulders, almost covering his whole head, but there was tension in his posture now, like he was more alert, and less relaxed.

Another breath was inhaled, only it was thinner this time, and wet, followed by a muffled sniffle. Your brows furrowed, and you worked quickly to throw your sweater on without hurting yourself so you were covered up completely, before making your way to his bed, crouching down on the floor, keeping your attention fixated on him. His shoulders were rising and falling now in uneven motions, and now you were piecing together that he was actually crying.

”…Bob?” You whispered, voice soft and low, like if you made it any louder than the volume you were at now it might shatter him. You could see the shuddering in his shoulders halt at the way you said his name, and he pulled the blanket higher over his head, like he was trying to shield himself from your eyes.

”I’m sorry…” Your brows pulled together in confusion as you leaned against the bed a little more, watching the outline of his frame beneath the covers, seeing the small tremors still running through his shoulders. You bit the inside of your cheek as you reached out, your hand hovering for a breath before resting gently against the curve of his back. He was radiating heat through the blanket, but he was stiff beneath your touch, like he didn’t know what to do with the comfort you were offering.

“Bob…Why are you apologizing?” You asked softly. He took in another shaky breath, but didn’t answer. You let out a sigh, rubbing your hand up and down his back like your mother used to when you cried, trying to soothe him, to calm him as much as you could.

”I…I saw the bruises.” He said, barely a whisper. Your hand on his back froze for a moment, “I-I didn’t mean to look, I swear, I just-“ His breath hitched, realizing that you were probably throwing daggers into his back with your eyes, “I just woke up…And saw them, and I couldn’t…Couldn’t stop remembering…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, it was just too much, as another set of sobs escaped his throat. You could feel your gaze soften at the noise, almost like a piece of your heart was breaking for him, continuing your movements along his back, pressing just a little harder into the muscle.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you want some electrolytes or something?” He shook his head.

”No…P-Please just stay…” His voice was hoarse, cracking under the thickness that coated his throat from the tears. You nodded even though he couldn’t see you, staring at his shoulders as he continued to cry, curling in on himself beneath his blanket.

You continued rubbing his back, keeping a steady and consistent rhythm. The heat of him radiated through the blanket like a furnace on the verge of burning itself out. Every time your hand passed over his spine, his shoulders seemed to loosen by a fraction.

“C-Can I ask something…Kind of w-weird?” His voice broke through the quiet again, in such a timid whisper that you barely heard it.

“Sure.” You replied, hearing him sniffle again. There was a long pause, and you could feel the hesitation, like he was trying to put his words together properly so whatever he was going to say didn’t come off creepy. You continued to run your hand over his back, waiting patiently for him, watching his figure rising and falling beneath the blanket, still seeing it shaking. In your mind, you were worried, you hadn’t seen him like this before, and there was a moment where you considered calling Bucky or Yelena to come help you, but then his voice broke through the thoughts.

”…Could you…” He took another breath, “Could you…Please hold me?” The question came out strangled, like it had clawed its way out of his throat before he could second-guess it again. You blinked slowly at the request, not because you were unsure of your answer, but because the way he said it was so gentle, and embarrassed it caught you off guard in a way.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say, you thought maybe he was going to ask you for a tissue, but this was something far more vulnerable, something you never thought would come from Bob of all people, even though you knew he was sensitive. Inside you hesitated only because you didn’t want to hurt him by possibly doing the wrong thing, yet your heart ached watching him break down beneath his blanket which at this point was drowning him because of how much he had curled up beneath it.

“Of course…Just let me change out of these training pants first okay? It’ll just take a second.” There was no response to that, just movement. He shifted towards the wall so he was giving you enough space to get in, still hunched over like he felt guilty for the area that he occupied. You quickly stood up, and made quick work of shimmying out of your training pants and putting on your cotton sleep shorts, which was probably the best idea since you felt him burning through the blanket he was wrapped in. You brought your attention back to him soon after, returning to the side of the bed, your eyes roaming over the lump that resembled his body.

With a gentle hand, you tugged the edge of the blanket down just enough to uncover the top of his head, revealing his light brown hair again which looked dampened with sweat beneath the illuminating city lights that shined through the window. He didn’t say anything, or protest being exposed to you, so you took that as a good sign to continue.

You slid into the space he made for you, careful not to jostle the cocoon he made for himself too much, and eased your bad arm underneath his pillow so your scraped shoulder could rest in a neutral position where your bandage wouldn’t rip off your skin completely. You pulled up the blanket slightly, getting in behind him, scooting closer until your chest met his damp back.

His navy blue t-shirt was soaked through completely, and it wasn’t helping that he was wearing long pants to bed either. There was a fear he was gonna pass out from heat stroke or something, but he had mentioned it several times that he ran hot in general, you just didn’t see it to this extreme. He smelled like a salty rain storm, or like ozone, it was something indescribable to you in those moments, but it was what he typically radiated, it was familiar.

Slowly, you brought your arm over his torso, placing your hand onto the hard plane of his sternum, the muscles beneath his shirt twitching against the unfamiliar touch that you introduced to him.

Neither of you spoke, you just laid against each other in pure silence, listening to each other's breathing–his trembling, yours steady. He could feel your hot breaths against his neck and tried to pay attention to it, as you pushed down the blanket a bit with your elbow to shed the makeshift shield from his body. It took him a while to compose himself enough to speak again, but when he did, you were hanging off of every word.

”…When I saw the bruises…” He rasped, “All I could think about was me. When I was a kid…” The mentioning of his childhood immediately felt like a blow to your stomach. He had said something about how he was raised in passing, but it was an off handed remark that nobody really paid attention to. You figured it was something he didn’t want to talk about, but hearing him say this only made you dread what he was going to continue with.

”After he’d hit me…I’d go over to the mirror, just to see how bad it was. I’d tell myself it didn’t hurt, even if it did, I’d just lie to myself, because I knew if I cried, he’d just get angrier. He was always in the mood to beat me up so when he had a reason I think it made him feel justified in some…Messed up way.” Your chest tightened at his words, thinking about how scary it must’ve been for him, and how terrified he must’ve felt not knowing when his own father would strike. You didn’t speak right away, but you did shift, sliding your hand up higher on his chest, so you could press your palm flat over his heart. His shirt was soaked there too, yet beneath it all you could feel the frantic fluttering of his pulse, like a bird rattling against its cage.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, your breath tickling his neck again. He didn’t respond, though he didn’t recoil either.

“None of that should’ve ever happened to you,” You continued softly, brushing your thumb along the fabric against his heart, “You were a child, and you didn’t deserve that.” He let out a breath like he was trying not to begin sobbing again.

”You don’t have to say that.” You raised your head a bit, almost in disbelief that he truly thought that what happened to him was somehow okay or justified.

”I do, Bob.” You murmured, inching just a little closer, feeling your body screaming in protest as your injured shoulder moved the wrong way, causing you to hiss through your teeth. Bob noticed instantly.

”You’re hurting,” He said quietly with guilt sinking into every syllable.

”I really couldn’t give a crap about that right now Bob, trust me I’ve been through worse. You’re hurting right now too and I’m not going anywhere. Do you understand?” You replied back, your voice low, but lacking bite, not that you intended to have it sound stern or anything.

Bob shifted beneath your touch, slowly rolling onto his back like the weight of your words cracked something loose inside him. You adjusted carefully to give him space, keeping your injured shoulder angled away from the impact of his back pressing against your arm, even though the ache felt like white noise beneath the tension that was beginning to rise in the room. When he settled on his back you adjusted yourself so your chin rested against his chest, keeping your hand splayed in the same position over his heart.

His eyes didn’t find yours at first, they stared blankly at the ceiling, the soft glow of the city lights catching the shimmer of the tears that were still pooling in his eyes. Now that you could see him fully, you realized how bad things really were. His skin was blotchy, and flushed from how hot he was. His cheeks were stained with fresh tears, mixing with sweat that created this overall sheen on his skin in general, which made his hair cling to his forehead. A long, old kind of hurt settled over his face, the kind that hid quietly within the corners of a person.

He inhaled shakily, and every exhale got caught somewhere between exhaustion and restraint. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath your chin, and it made you ache in a way that put a hole deep in your chest.

”Bob…” You murmured, barely louder than the sound of the city humming outside the window, “Look at me.” At first he didn’t move, keeping his eyes fixated on the ceiling, distant and confused, still taking in those short bursts of air. Your hand left his chest, bringing them up to his jaw, coaxing his attention with the lightest touch you could give him.

“Look at me Bob,” You whispered again.

Then slowly, his eyes shifted downward until they found yours. The moment his gaze landed on you, something cracked open between you both–it was quiet, and delicate, but present and grounded in the center of it all. His expression was drawn, and his lashes were clumpy and wet with tears, framing his shimmering blue irises.

The skin surrounding his eyes were raw, almost a blood red, like someone had scratched it and left their marks streaking down his flesh. You didn’t flinch away from it though, you just looked at him with such focus, like your gaze could settle the storm that was in him. You could see his lip tremble slightly under your gaze as he tried to hold himself still, tears brimming in his eyes again, threatening to spill.

”I hate remembering…I can’t stand it. I don’t want to remember this stuff…I don’t want to think about it anymore, and I don’t want you to associate me with being weak.” You raised your eyebrows, now raising your head up to you were looking at him a little better, resting your hand against his chin now.

”I don’t, ” You stated, watching a set of tears flow out of the corners of his eyes, swallowing loudly, “I don’t associate you with weakness.” You whispered, brushing your thumb along the smooth skin of his cheek.

”I associate you with patience…With overwhelming kindness, and with strength so deep it doesn’t even have to be displayed. You could burn the sky down…You could use all the pain inside you to destroy the planet…Yet you help, you listen, and you keep going. That’s not a weak person Bob.” You wiped one of the tears away with your thumb, feeling him hesitate before leaning into your touch.

“Y/N…I’m not right in the head…You don’t understand…You’ll never understand.” You shook your head, and sighed.

”I don’t have to understand everything to care about you,” Bob’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment, like the words that you said hit him like a truck. You could feel the tension in his jaw, as he clenched it tightly, trying to contain himself a bit.

“I used to think that if I could just bury everything deep enough maybe it wouldn’t make me feel so contaminated…But then when I got the serum…And The Void came…And that awfulness manifested into something bigger…I realized that it just wouldn’t go away. I’m dangerous Y/N…I’m not someone that can be fixed. I know you care, but I can’t risk hurting you.” You shifted closer to him, moving up slowly, dragging your chest along his. His eyes followed your movements, turning his head when you settled near his shoulder, feeling your hand leave his cheek.

“You don’t scare me Bob. You’re just saying this stuff because you think it’ll make me give up on you, but I’m not that easy to sway.” You whispered, reaching down to touch one of his hands, which caused him to flinch. He was already bracing himself, preparing to be pulled into one of your memories, but it didn’t happen…It was like…Things were quiet. Just pure emptiness, and the only thing he could see was you. He stared at you as you wrapped your fingers around his hand, seeing his brows draw together.

“H-How are you…Doing this?” He asked quietly, like he was afraid he was going to disturb the peace and get thrown into your mind out of nowhere.

”I locked it out.” He shook his head at you quickly.

”That’s impossible…It always gets in…” A small smile came up on your lips, hearing the disbelief in his voice, the way he was almost entirely taken aback by what you had just said. You leaned in a little closer to him, like you were going to tell him a secret, feeling his breath fanning over your face.

“Before I was recruited, I was part of a different team. Black-ops, kind of like what the X-Men used to be, but very much under the radar. It was just…Constant missions, we were a clean up crew basically, picking up the scraps that nobody else wanted…” You smiled faintly, the corner of your mouth twitching with the memories of your team, how close you all were, how none of you took crap from anyone…Similar to what you had now, just a little better because of the tether you all had between each other.

“We ran into a lot of people with gifts. Telepaths. Empaths…Stuff like that. Some didn’t even know they were projecting until it was too late. Others weaponized it. Pulled secrets out like stitches and drove people insane without ever touching them.”

Bob was still staring at you, eyes wide and brimming with tears, his chest rising beneath you in short bursts.

“It was mandatory,” You continued. “To train in mental shielding. Neural control. The discipline to lock down your own mind so tight it’s like a vault. We trained until our thoughts didn’t even echo. You learn to breathe around psychic pressure, to mask trauma with static, to reroute memories into dead space. You learn to feel someone reaching for you…And then cut the line.”

Bob swallowed hard, hearing the way you explained everything to him step by step, while still holding his hand, running your thumb over the back of it.

“I wasn’t trained to stop the Void,” You said gently, “But I was trained to stop something similar to it. And apparently, it’s just close enough.” You watched his lashes flutter like he didn’t know whether he was going to cry again or if he was just going to sink into the mattress and disappear entirely.

“…That’s why the mental noise isn’t so loud when we're alone in a room together…” He whispered under his breath, almost like everything was clicking in his mind, as his hand began to tighten around yours now, matching the same hold you had, “…Mental shielding…Who knew that would be the thing that makes everything go quiet.” You smirked at his comment, already hearing the tension in his voice wavering, feeling his breath sticking to your cheeks, shifting in front of him so your noses bumped slightly.

“Technically it’s still quite an experimental thing, but…It works when needed I think.” You can see his lip twitch slightly, drawing into his mouth just a little bit, as if he wanted to get a taste of your breath that coated it.

“It’s…Amazing.” Was all he could muster up to say, continuing to hold onto your hand tightly, like it was anchoring him to this quiet space in his head that he had not been able to reach since taking the serum. “…All I hear, and all I feel��Is you and I had no clue until now…” The sound of his voice made your spine tingle, and goosebumps raise on your skin.

It was shocking that moments ago he was this wreck, then suddenly it was like he was on top of the world. Maybe it was because he hadn’t been touched like this in so long, or maybe it was because he finally had a break from all the noise that kept draining him, you had no clue…But what you did know is how soft his eyes had become, and how deep his breaths were now that he was a little calmer, and not being treated like a threat of some kind.

You shifted again, getting almost unbearably close to him now, the fabric of the blanket sliding down slowly, exposing your clothed bodies to the silvery-blue light just a little more. Bob didn’t move, but his eyes never left yours, he kept every ounce of attention on you, waiting for your next action, hanging on every moment. His breath hitched when your knees bumped gently against his thigh, as the warmth of your bodies radiated like twin heartbeats pressed just barely apart.

Your noses were brushing against one another, and if you tilted your chin up by just a little bit, you’d be kissing.

”I’m glad I’ve been able to make it go quiet for you…Even if it’s not permanent.” A faint smile slowly appeared on his face–crooked, and trembling, but so genuine.

“It’s more peace than I thought I’d ever get…So thank you.” He replied back, his hand squeezing yours, not in desperation, but with something closer to awe, like he still couldn’t wrap his head around the situation that was happening in front of him. His breath brushed across your face as he watched your eyes roaming over his. You couldn’t help but stare at him, to take him in now that he wasn’t crying, to admire the person who was in front of you. It was hard not to lose track of time studying his features, and how they were just…Him.

There was a long pause between the both of you, a snippet of time suspended into the universe where nothing else existed beyond the narrow bed and the hum of the city beyond the window. His chest rose slowly, puffing out warm shallow breaths against your lips, and for a second it felt like he was hesitating on something…But then, he leaned in.

It wasn’t fast, or sweeping like he was trying to catch you off guard. It was careful, like every little millimeter he closed between the both of you was an offer for you to pull back, but you didn’t take it.

When his lips met yours, it was a soft, trembling brush of mouths that lingered more in intent than execution. He kissed like he was afraid you were somehow going to disappear, but you could feel how much he truly wanted this. His lips were warm, and slightly parted, and you could taste the faintness of tears and salt, still hesitating to go the full mile.

There was a moment where he was about to pull back, and that’s when you took the opportunity to fully lean into the kiss and throw logic out the window, just for this one cut of time

Your lips moved against his, answering the softness of his approach with something more certain and grounded. The taste of him was still there, but now it was amplified tenfold from how much more pressure you were placing on the kiss now.

He was stiff at first, the tension in his jaw made it evident, like he was unsure of what he was allowed to do, what he was okay to give back, or like he was bracing himself for the possibility of you pulling back before he could even try to meet you where you were at. But then your hand let go of his, and slid up to cup the side of his face, and he let out the smallest gasp of disbelief against your mouth. Your thumb brushed gently beneath his eye as your lips molded to the shape of his mouth with a tenderness that shattered whatever restrain he’d been holding onto.

Your arm shifted beneath the pillow, bending just enough so you could lace your fingers into his damp hair, pulling him in more with such grace that it made him groan. His hand moved to your neck then–his shaky fingers pressing softly just below your ear, his thumb brushing over the curve of your jaw as he located your pulse instantly. His touch wasn’t possessive, it was filled with care, and curiosity. He wanted to feel the warmth of your skin, the steady–or not so steady–rhythm of your heartbeat beneath his fingers, he craved to be closer to you, and every moment that passed was giving him the signal that you wanted that too.

He shifted gently, slowly turning onto his side without breaking the kiss, being cautious not to put anymore unwanted pressure on your arm beneath him as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you in until your bodies were flush against one another. You could feel the dampness on your sweater from his shirt, and your bare legs brushing against the cotton of his sleep pants, which only overwhelmed you more, knowing it was going to be a challenge to stop this from going too far.

His hand splayed out on your back, twitching against the fabric that covered it as you parted your lips for him, allowing his tongue to brush against yours with the softest flicker of hesitation, tasting you like he was drinking something sacred. The breath he let out against your mouth made your skin prickle beneath your sweater, and it only encouraged your response.

You angled your mouth to his, encouraging him to continue, feeling him follow suit in an instant, matching your energy bit by bit, syncing with the way you moved against him. When your hand slid further into his hair, and curled within the damp strands, gently tugging, he let out the smallest, softest moan–it was so quiet and desperate it sounded like it had been buried within him for years. It made your head spin hearing it, and it only made you shift yourself towards him even more, feeling his thigh nudging between your legs so the both of you can completely mesh together. It was such a subtle move, but it lit up every nerve ending in your body like it was nothing.

Bob’s hand slid beneath the hem of your sweater, craving the feeling of your skin beneath his touch. His fingers traced the small of your spine, barely putting enough pressure on it, yet he still managed to send shivers through your body. He was getting bolder, but kept his awareness at the forefront, like he was cataloging every reaction you gave him, terrified that he might cross an invisible line and ruin the moment.

You felt the muscles in his arm shift as he pulled you even closer, putting more pressure between your bodies until you felt every rise and fall of his chest, and his heartbeat pulsed through you. His knee shifted again, nudging further between your thighs, pressing it gently into the thin cotton fabric that covered your most sensitive area, eliciting a gasp from you now. You could feel yourself falter control for a moment, moving your hips just a little to test the friction that you wanted, and that’s when you both realized just how far this could go–and how close you already were to getting there.

His hand tensed against your back, and the kiss slowed down, until he found the correct moment to pull back, just a few inches. His lips were still parted, only now they were swollen and wet with saliva. He was out of breath, and you mirrored the same sentiment, as the both of you tried to even your racing hearts before they exploded. His pupils were dilated, and in the dimmed lighting you could only see a faint glisten of blue that rimmed the darkness that took over, the burn was there, the want was there, but there was the looming fear that you both were going from zero to one hundred really quickly, and that’s when regrets could be made, and neither of you wanted that.

”…We can’t do this…” He whispered, his voice cracking from being the first one to speak. You nodded faintly, your fingers still toying with his hair, reluctant to let go completely, but understanding him.

”I know,” You murmured, “Not like this…Not tonight.” You clarified. He closed his eyes, a soft exhale brushing your lips as his fingers twitched against your pulse point on your neck again.

”It’s not that I don’t want to,” He added quietly, “God I do…You have no idea.”

“I know,” You said again, running your thumb along his cheek, soothing the skin there, “Me too…I want to as well…But we’re not ready. Especially after being in the headspace that you were in a few minutes ago.” He nodded slowly.

”I don’t want it to be something that will be confused for a moment of distraction.” You stared at him, hearing how serious he was about it, “And I don’t want to ruin anything.” He added softly, opening his eyes again to look at you.

”You’re not ruining anything, we’re just pressing pause…And that’s completely fine, and it’s the best decision to make for right now.” He gave a small, nervous smile at that and leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours, “We’ll talk more about it later…But for now how about we just relax hmm?” He let out a shaky breath, the heat from it hitting your lips and invading your mouth for just a split second.

”Yeah…I’d like that.” You smiled faintly, as your bodies untangled just a bit from one another, removing the both of you from the intimate position you had found yourself in moments before. His knee shifted out from between your legs, and rested against them instead, letting the tension unravel and disappear slowly.

He wrapped both arms around you now, carefully noting your injury, and you folded yourself into his chest, letting your hand rest on his ribs as he pulled the blanket up to shield the both of you.

You both stayed there, nose to nose, breath to breath, hearts beating unevenly against one another until sleep came over you like a harsh wave.

[sysig]

what's your favorite part about making art?

Getting it out of my head (lol)

To give a more complete answer haha, each step has its own charm! Sketching is nice to have it Out of me, alleviates the itch of having a Thought or Feeling that just needs to be Out and onto paper already

If I'm drawing digitally, lining has gotten rather meditative, or if my sketches are particularly scribbly then it's like a puzzle haha

Toning on paper is a fun exercise in tool usage - I have specific pencils I switch back and forth between to get The Effect I'm looking for, or filling in with the same pencil for the whole piece is nice to just have it done all at once, it's satisfying both ways

Editing has kinda fallen by the wayside for me lately (as evidenced by my lack of uploads - I keep wanting to share, but there's a stopper in my brain that says "No, they're Not Done!" which is like......half correct? It's done when I say it's done, but they haven't been edited "properly" so) but it also has its good points! It took a bit to find the fun again because editing is definitely Not my favourite part of the process - it's not Creative or Exciting or Expressive in the same way as the other steps but it is something I can do for my art that makes it appear how my hand, eye, and brain want it to - my hand is messy, my eye is very particular, and my brain parses between the two, takes away the lines that muddle the final image until there's only The Picture left :) And sometimes it's all I have the energy for! Sometimes all I can do is take my backlog and make it pretty rather than make something new - but it's still Making Art :)

The only part I really don't like is scanning lol, it's just annoying, why can't my pictures be uploaded in perfect quality directly from my sketchbook to my computer haha

And most of this is to do with drawing since it's still my main art form, but a lot of the same applies to writing and papercraft and whatever else I try my hand at - it's nice to Have and Do and see where it gets me :)

I'm doing well! I've been writing more than - ever? I think? I think this is officially my up-to-now peak of Finished Writing by wordcount and time spent on it lol, it's been very fun!! And also a little overwhelming haha I still haven't quite found a New Normal about it, it being The Most haha, but I want to work towards that balance! More practice means more time to implement it so lol

[takimakiiiii]

chicken shop date - LN4 x reader

synopsis!: lando is invited to join you on your dating show but who knows whether it'll be awkward or whether everything will go smoothly?

wc!: 4.9k!! (sorta short lol)

Part 2 is here!

pairing!: lando norris x fem!reader

includes!: A LOT of fluff, mutual flirting, a little bit of swearing, heavy use of y/n, 3rd person perspective, playful banter

a/n: this is heavily inspired by amelia dimoldenberg's chicken shop date that you can find on youtube. i absolutely loved the episode with lando but i thought it he was super shy and awkward so i wrote this as an if he wasn't so shy and was flirting back. i also stole some of the comments from the andrew garfield episode because that comment section is GOLD. anyways enjoy! xx

2 days later. . .

Now Playing: LANDO NORRIS | CHICKEN SHOP DATE

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ: ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

The camera lingers on Y/N and Lando, the soft hum of the shop filling the background as they sit across from each other at a small, worn table. The lighting is warm, almost golden, casting a cozy glow over the scene. Behind them, the counter is lined with empty glasses and in front of them a bowl of chips—forgotten, untouched, as if it’s a mere prop in the moment unfolding between the two of them.

There’s something almost cinematic about the way their gazes lock, intense and unblinking, concentration at its finest. It could almost be romantic—the way they’re sitting there, their eyes caught in a dance of curiosity and something deeper—but there’s a playful edge to the atmosphere. Neither of them seems entirely sure what will happen next. The air is light with unspoken tension, the kind of tension that makes every little thing seem charged, like a game they’re both trying to figure out.

Their smiles are wide, almost too wide, but neither of them seems to mind. It’s the kind of smile that speaks volumes—something just beyond the surface, an invitation for more. Suddenly, the silence is broken by Lando’s voice, gleeful and loud. “HA! You blinked!” He leans back in his chair, letting it rock on two legs, his eyes practically gleaming with the thrill of victory. Y/N freezes for a beat, her gaze still locked with his. There’s a flicker of disbelief, like she can’t quite believe he’s actually won, but it fades as a laugh escapes her. “You’re such a cheater,” she says, the words dripping with playful accusation.

The camera shifts, zooming in on her face. Her lips are slightly parted, eyes twinkling with the mix of annoyance and amusement. Her body leans slightly forward; her arms crossed loosely in a challenge. Lando shakes his head, an exaggerated expression of mock indignation overtaking his features. His grin widens as he holds up both hands in a “What can I say?” gesture. “Nuh-uh, I won. Fair and square.”

Y/N can’t stop the smile creeping across her face, though she rolls her eyes dramatically, as if she’s trying to resist the pull of his grin. “Yuh-huh,” she mutters under her breath, her voice laced with sarcastic sweetness.

And then Lando cracks up. The sound fills the small space between them—loud, genuine, like it’s something only they can understand. There’s a moment where their laughter overlaps, both of them caught in the same private joke. Neither of them bothers to explain it. It’s just theirs, a moment shared in a way that feels impossibly right.

Her eyes narrow, but there’s more mischief behind the look now. She leans in, just a little, her gaze never wavering from his. “That’s exactly what a cheater would say,” she says, her tone low and teasing. She throws the accusation across the table like a challenge, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of the table.

Lando's face morphs into a grin that’s too playful to be taken seriously, his eyes dancing with an unspoken dare. “Well, that’s exactly what a sore loser would say,” he fires back without missing a beat. There’s something about the way he says it—his voice just a little too sweet, the challenge thick in the air—that makes her want to laugh and argue at the same time.

Without warning, Y/N sticks her tongue out at him, the movement playful but with a sharp edge, like she’s daring him to say something more. The action feels charged, innocent and mischievous all at once. And as she pulls back, she can’t help but notice the way his eyes flicker, as if something in him is waiting for her to make the next move.

The camera cuts abruptly, a moment cut off too soon.

♡

"Alright, I’ve got a question for you," Y/N says, her tone light, but there’s something in the way she places her hands on the table that suggests this isn’t just another throwaway moment. The faintest pink blush spreads across her cheeks, and a grin tugs at her lips, betraying her attempt at seriousness.

"Oh yeah?" Lando raises an eyebrow, the teasing glint in his eyes already giving away that he’s curious but expecting something a little out of the ordinary. His smile stretches just a bit wider, the corners of his mouth lifting as if he’s already bracing for whatever quirky response Y/N is about to throw at him.

There’s a flicker of something in Y/N’s eyes—something that’s almost too quick to catch. Maybe it's nerves, maybe it's excitement, or maybe it's just the moment itself pulling them both deeper into the unspoken tension between them. Whatever it is, it doesn’t escape Lando’s notice. She shifts in her seat, a little more composed now, but still with that undeniable edge of playful energy. "What’s your greatest goal?" she asks, the question floating in the air between them, serious for once.

Lando pauses, his lips pressing together as he thinks. For a moment, he seems lost in his thoughts, as if weighing his answer carefully, but then he shrugs a little—relaxed, even if his eyes are still searching for the right words. "Win a championship, you know. That’d be nice." His gaze drifts off for a moment, but then a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, and maybe beat Carlos in chess for once."

Y/N nods, her expression thoughtful, but there’s a spark of understanding in her eyes. She can’t help but smile a little too, the weight of the conversation already lifting. "I see, okay," she says softly, as if she’s already letting the moment slip away, but it lingers in the air—this brief pause of seriousness.

Lando watches her closely, his gaze narrowing with an almost knowing look. He leans forward slightly, like he’s expecting something. "What about you?" he asks, his voice playful, but there's that tiny bit of curiosity woven in. Without missing a beat, Y/N meets his gaze, her smile widening as if she’s been waiting for this exact question. "To be 6ft," she replies, her tone deadpan but with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Lando almost chokes on his laugh, but he quickly suppresses it, his lips quirking into a smile that refuses to hide. "Oh, really?" he feigns surprise, leaning back just slightly, playing along with her harmless game. "That’s your greatest goal?"

Y/N nods vigorously, her eyes shining with an almost childlike determination. "Yep, I mean, just imagine—turning the tables so you'd be the one looking up at me, instead of the other way around." She shrugs, her playful smirk showing that she’s more than just teasing now. It’s the kind of confidence that only comes when someone’s comfortable enough to say something so ridiculous, yet so endearing.

Lando chuckles, the sound light and genuine. "Yeah? I think I prefer it this way, though," he says, shaking his head with a grin that says he’s not about to let her win this one so easily. Y/N rolls her eyes dramatically, though she can’t stop the laugh bubbling up inside her. "No, but seriously—imagine the flex. A tall girlfriend? That’d be legendary," she adds, her tone playful but with just enough conviction to make it seem like she’s really giving it some thought.

Lando leans forward again, his grin widening at the turn the conversation has taken. "Oh? Girlfriend, already? Isn't this our first date?" He raises an eyebrow.

Y/N doesn’t miss a beat, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I like to move quickly in relationships. You might want to take notes," she says, the words light but with an edge that’s both teasing and confident.

"Duly noted," Lando responds with a quick nod, his voice dripping with playful sincerity. But just as the moment feels like it could get too serious, Y/N breaks character, her laughter spilling out of her like an unexpected burst of sunshine. She presses her sleeve to her face, trying to stifle the giggles, but the effort only makes her laugh harder.

Lando watches her with an affectionate smile, the whole exchange leaving an unmistakable warmth between them—something light and effortless, but undeniably real before the camera cuts.

♡

“Kiss, marry, kill… are you ready?” Y/N asks, her voice flat and expression deadpan. Her gaze is steady, and there's a certain gleam in her eye that suggests she’s not playing around, despite her casual tone. Lando freezes for a moment, blinking as though she’s just thrown him into a sudden storm. The look on his face is a mix of surprise and confusion, like a deer caught in headlights. But curiosity quickly overtakes him, and he nods, clearly intrigued but also a little wary. “Okay… go,” he says, his voice tinged with both hesitation and anticipation.

Y/N doesn’t miss a beat. “Kiss, marry, kill: Oscar, Carlos, and me.”

Lando’s reaction is immediate—he collapses back into his chair, clutching his stomach as a burst of hysterical laughter escapes him. It’s loud and unrestrained, like he’s just been hit with the most absurd punchline of all time.

But Y/N remains unmoved, her eyes narrowed slightly, her expression unwavering. She throws her hands up in the air, frustration edging her voice. “I’m being serious! This is an important topic that needs to be addressed!”

Lando’s laughter slowly dies down, but the grin never quite leaves his face. He raises both hands in mock surrender, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Hang on! Hang on!” He presses his palms together like he’s deep in thought, as though the weight of this decision requires every ounce of his mental energy. “I’m thinking.”

Y/N sighs internally, a familiar and tired gesture. She resists the urge to roll her eyes—again—her finger tapping against the table in a slow, rhythmic beat, as though she’s waiting for him to get it together. She can practically hear the tick of the clock in the background.

"Okay, wait, I got it," Lando says suddenly, sitting up straighter in his chair. He pauses for a moment, his brows furrowing in what can only be described as mock concern. “Wait… no, I don’t want to have to kiss either of you guys.” He scrunches his face up, clearly not thrilled by the prospect.

Y/N raises an eyebrow, a smirk forming on her lips. "Wow, and here I was thinking you'd be more concerned with who you'd have to kill."

Lando doesn’t skip a beat. "Well, that’s an easy one. You, for sure." He shrugs casually as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Y/N’s jaw drops in exaggerated shock. “Me? Well, I’m offended,” she gasps dramatically, placing a hand over her heart as if he’s just stabbed her emotionally. She wipes away an imaginary tear for good measure, her tone dripping with mock hurt.

Lando rolls his eyes at the performance. “It’s called flirting, Y/N,” he says, deadpan, though his lips twitch upward.

Y/N smirks, clearly unfazed by his response. “Well, you’re not very good at it,” she retorts, her voice thick with sass. There’s no hiding the playful edge in her tone, but also no missing the fact that she’s not taking this seriously—she’s enjoying every second of it.

Lando bites back a laugh, but it’s obvious from the way his cheeks flush that her words have gotten to him. “Okay, well, I could say the same thing about you,” he deflects, leaning back a little in his chair, his arms crossed defensively.

Y/N arches an eyebrow, her amusement evident. "Sure, Lando.”

Lando looks straight at the camera, his face now the picture of exaggerated deadpan. He gives it a slow, knowing look, as though he's on an episode of The Office. The camera cuts just as he’s about to crack, leaving a lingering sense of humour in the air.

♡

"What's your go-to line? You know, when you're asking people out?" Lando asks, his voice taking on a playful tone, like he’s now the one in charge of the conversation. It feels like the roles have completely reversed, and he’s the one interrogating Y/N, as if he’s suddenly the expert on relationships.

Y/N pauses for a moment, clearly weighing the question. She tilts her head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she considers her answer. “I don’t really have one,” she says, her voice casual, almost nonchalant. “I just sort of look at them and hope that they’re braver than I am.”

Lando’s eyes light up with interest, clearly not satisfied with such a vague answer. “Okay, but how do you look at them?” He leans forward, his hands resting on the table as he eyes her like a curious detective. “C’mon, I need details.”

Y/N raises her hands in protest, then immediately bursts into laughter, the sound bright and infectious. She leans back in her chair, shoulders shaking as she tries to contain her amusement. Lando, on the other side of the table, is wiggling his eyebrows in exaggerated motion, clearly trying to make this into something ridiculous.

“Like this? Or is it more like this?” he asks, giving a dramatic wink in her direction, and the sheer ridiculousness of it makes Y/N’s eyes widen in disbelief. Her laughter grows louder; her face flushed from both amusement and the sheer absurdity of the situation.

“No!” she gasps between fits of laughter, barely able to catch her breath. “If that’s how you pick up girls, I feel bad for them. You look like you’re constipated or something.”

Lando’s face falls in mock pain as if she’s actually physically wounded him. “Okay, ouch,” he says, wincing like she’s just landed a punch right to his ego. His hand presses dramatically to his chest, as though trying to recover from the blow.

Y/N grins, her expression turning teasing as she looks at him with mock sympathy. “Sorry, someone had to let you know.” She throws him a playful, exaggerated sympathetic glance, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I appreciate your honesty,” Lando nods solemnly, his face adopting a mock-serious expression, though the hint of a smile is barely contained.

“You’re welcome,” Y/N replies, the sarcasm dripping from her voice, but there's something in her tone that’s genuinely warm beneath the teasing.

Lando leans back in his chair, crossing his arms, looking as if he’s about to offer some unsolicited advice. “No, but I think that’s good, you know? Staring at someone creepily from the other side of the room…” he trails off, nodding as if he’s figured it all out, an amused smirk tugging at his lips.

Y/N exhales sharply, the sound half exasperated, half amused. “Okay, asshat, it’s not like that.” She shifts slightly in her seat, clearly about to set the record straight. “It’s like this…” she says, her voice softening as she looks at him.

In an instant, the playful banter between them fades away. Y/N locks eyes with Lando, her gaze intense, focused, and completely unbroken. The shift in energy is palpable, almost magnetic, as though the entire world around them has melted away. Even the camera crew seems to hold their breath, unsure whether they’re witnessing something deeper or just a clever game between friends.

The moment stretches, lingering, neither of them breaking the gaze, their eyes speaking volumes that words can’t quite capture. There’s a sweetness in the silence—endearing, even. They’re just two people caught in something unspoken, something real in the quiet between them.

Y/N finally breaks the silence, her voice low and teasing. “Is it working?” she asks, her lips curling up into the smallest of smiles, eyes still locked on his.

Lando’s throat goes dry, and for a moment, he’s completely flustered. His words stumble over themselves, like he’s struggling to find his balance after the intensity of the gaze. “Yes—no, yeah, I can see that working. What’s your success rate so far?” His words come out in a jumbled mess, his neck flushing a deep red as his usual confidence falters under the weight of the moment.

Y/N, still holding the teasing glint in her eyes, leans in just slightly. “I don’t know, you tell me,” she says, the playful challenge still present in her tone.

Lando hesitates for a moment, clearly caught in the spell of the conversation. “100%,” he finally declares, his voice filled with a mix of playful confidence and something softer beneath it, like he’s genuinely caught off guard by the chemistry between them.

The camera cuts before Y/N can react.

♡

"You can only save one," Y/N says dramatically, holding out both hands as if she’s about to present him with a life-altering decision. “A puppy or a kitten. Which one are you saving?”

Lando freezes, his eyes widening in horror, like she’s just asked him to choose between his own limbs. “Okay, well this is just unfair,” he says, his voice dripping with mock betrayal. His lower lip juts out in a dramatic pout, as if he’s already the victim of some great injustice.

Y/N raises an eyebrow, her tone unwavering. “You have to pick one.”

Lando’s face crumples as if the weight of the decision might crush him. “No, I can’t,” he whines, flailing his hands in the air dramatically. “You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be!” Y/N lets out a long sigh, clearly bored of the theatrics. She picks up a fry from the plate in front of her casually, like the fate of two helpless animals isn’t hanging in the balance. “Just pick one already,” she mutters, eyeing him with mild annoyance.

Lando leans back in his chair, his face scrunched in concentration as if he’s making the toughest decision of his life. “Okay… the puppy,” he finally says, almost reluctantly, as if he’s just betrayed a sacred pact. From across the table, Y/N gasps dramatically, clutching her chest as though he’s just committed the ultimate crime. “You’re a monster,” she says, her voice teetering between mock outrage and genuine shock.

Lando’s eyes widen as if he’s just been slapped. “Wait, no! I didn’t mean it like that,” he backpedals, panic setting in. “Okay, okay, fine—then the kitten.” He raises his hands in defeat, clearly hoping this will solve everything. Y/N glares at him, arms crossed with a smug satisfaction. “So, you’d just let the puppy die? Wow, you’re heartless.” She shakes her head slowly, the disappointment practically radiating off of her.

Lando looks at the camera crew behind the lens as though they might somehow come to his rescue. “What!? This is so unfair,” he whines, gesturing wildly for support. “I think you’re the real monster here.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow, her voice sweet but laced with sarcasm. “You really know how to flatter a person on a first date.” She pulls a sour face; her eyes narrowed in judgment.

Lando shrugs dramatically, rolling his eyes in the most exaggerated way possible. “Says the professional manipulator,” he fires back, smirking triumphantly—but then he immediately regrets it as he sees her narrowing eyes.

Y/N folds her arms, her gaze turning icy, the perfect picture of judgment. “What did you just call me?” she asks, her tone low and dangerously amused.

Lando takes a sip of his drink, trying to regain his composure—but it’s already too late. Y/N’s staring at him like she’s about to deliver the final blow. Lando winces, nearly choking on his drink. “Too far, I’m sorry,” he admits, holding up a hand in apology, though the mischief in his eyes betrays him.

“Yeah, that’s right, be sorry,” Y/N says with a satisfied smile, crossing her arms smugly. Lando, trying to regain some ground, mimics her earlier words in a high-pitched voice. “You really know how to flatter someone on a first date,” he says, holding his hands up defensively as if he’s the victim now.

Y/N glares at him, her eyes narrow and unyielding. “Your words, not mine,” he adds quickly, but the tension evaporates as soon as the words leave his mouth. It’s clear they’re both just enjoying the banter, and it’s impossible not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

The atmosphere lightens as they both burst out laughing, the infectious sound filling the space between them. The camera captures the moment, lingering on their laughter, as if the whole world is invited into the little bubble they’ve created. The camera cuts, but this time, it’s a softer transition—no harshness, no rush. It’s just a brief, perfect pause, leaving the warmth of the moment hanging in the air.

♡

"Okay, important question," Y/N says, leaning forward slightly, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she casually pops a hot chip into her mouth. “What would you rate your flirting skills out of 10?”

Lando freezes, his eyes narrowing in deep thought. “Okay, wait, let me think,” he mumbles, his hand rising to his chin like he’s pondering the meaning of life itself. The silence stretches on for a moment too long, and Y/N raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Do you usually take this long to think about things?” she asks, her voice dripping with judgment, though the amusement is obvious.

Lando leans back in his chair, feigning deep contemplation. “Do you usually insult people as a way of flirting?” he shoots back, leaning forward with a mock serious expression. They exchange a quick glance, a silent challenge hanging in the air. Y/N can’t help but play along. “Was it that obvious?” she responds, her grin widening as she leans back into her chair, ready for whatever comes next.

Lando can’t hold back a grin of his own. “Yes,” he says, shaking his head as if he’s just seen the greatest performance of the evening. “Okay, I got it,” he announces, his posture shifting as he places his hands dramatically in front of him, ready to drop his verdict.

“Alright, I’m all ears,” Y/N replies, clapping her hands together, leaning back as if settling in for the most epic answer she’s about to hear.

“A solid 12,” Lando begins, his voice full of confidence. “But I subtract 5 points for social anxiety, and another 2 for sweating through my shirt.” He shrugs as if this is the most reasonable answer anyone could give. Y/N raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “I find the social anxiety part hard to believe,” she teases, a playful challenge in her voice.

Lando shrugs again, his grin never fading. “Me too,” he admits, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Y/N takes a sip of her drink, still processing the absurdity of his response. “So… you're like a solid 5?” she concludes, lowering the cup from her lips. Lando, without missing a beat, nods in agreement. “Yeah, but like a confident, aggressive, average 5,” he explains, leaning back as if he’s just made the most profound statement of all time.

Y/N nearly spits her drink out, her eyes wide with disbelief. She sets her drink down with dramatic flair. “That’s the most honest thing a man’s ever said to me,” she says coolly, as if she’s just heard a confession of the highest order.

Lando smirks, clearly unbothered. “Wow, that’s not concerning at all,” he hums, the sarcasm practically dripping from his voice.

Y/N leans in with a wicked grin. “Incredible,” she muses. “You’re like a red flag with a weird amount of charm.”

Lando leans forward with a knowing look. “You’re like if sarcasm came in a cute little package, labelled ‘Do Not Open,’ and ignores my texts for fun.”

Y/N laughs softly, her grin widening. “I’m flattered, but who says I’m texting you back at all?” she shoots back, the words dripping with teasing amusement. Lando raises both eyebrows, confidence practically radiating off him. “Oh, I’m sure you will,” he says with a wink, as if he’s already won.

“Yep, that’s that overly confident 5 kicking in,” Y/N hums, shaking her head in mock disbelief. She takes another sip of her drink, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Lando’s jaw drops, and he looks to the camera crew for help, as though they could somehow intervene and save him from this onslaught of teasing. “HEY—”

But before he can get another word out, the camera cuts again, leaving the moment hanging in the air, the playful tension between them palpable.

♡

“So why are you single?” Y/N hums from across the table, the question hanging in the air. It’s obvious that Lando’s used to her out-of-pocket questions by now, but this one seems to hit differently. Lando leans back, raising an eyebrow as if she’s just asked him to solve world peace. “That’s a very bold question,” he points out, clearly impressed by her audacity.

“I’m curious,” she shrugs, as if it’s the most casual thing in the world to ask someone why they’re single.

“Not because you're interested, right?” Lando teases, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Y/N shakes her head, but it’s the most unconvincing “no” she’s ever given.

“No. Definitely not,” she says, but her eyes... her eyes betray her. There's a starry look in them that no one can miss, not even herself. Lando catches the slip-up, but he doesn’t say anything, leaning in slightly. “So? Why are you single then?” she presses, her voice rising slightly with mock curiosity.

Lando dramatically sighs, throwing a hand over his heart as if burdened by the weight of the question. “Because society fears men with amazing haircuts,” he declares with a shrug, as if he’s just unlocked the meaning of life. “It’s really that simple.”

Y/N winces from across the table, her eyes narrowing. “I was going to say commitment issues, but that works too,” she quips, a teasing smirk forming on her lips.

Lando rolls his eyes, clearly unbothered by her jab. “Okay, the truth? I only date people who make me feel like I’m in a cute movie or something,” he admits with a dramatic flourish. Y/N leans in, her grin mischievous. “Do I?” she hums, her voice just the right amount of playful. Lando’s expression falters for a second as she looks up at him, a confidence in her gaze that catches him off guard. It’s clear he’s not as used to it as he’d like to think.

“Wow,” he laughs nervously, “bold questions are just shooting out of you right now, huh?”

“What can I say?” Y/N shrugs casually, her eyebrows wiggling in mock innocence. Lando runs a hand through his hair, a chuckle escaping him as he tries to maintain composure. “I feel like you’d be the love interest and the sarcastic narrator,” he muses in amused disbelief.

“Multi-talented. I’m just amazing,” Y/N responds, a careless shrug accompanying her words like she’s casually announcing she invented fire. From across the table, Lando seems distracted, his gaze following Y/N. “Whatever you say,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. The camera zooms in slightly, capturing the playfulness between them—before the scene cuts abruptly, leaving the lingering energy between them to hang in the air.

♡

“If I was the last person on Earth, would you date me?” Y/N asks, leaning back slightly with a mischievous glint in her eyes, watching Lando carefully.

Lando, who’s been laughing and joking nonstop for the last ten minutes, suddenly straightens up, clearly deciding to take this question seriously. He takes a moment to “think,” his brow furrowing as if he’s weighing the fate of humanity. “Only after I build a shelter, farm some crops, and manage to survive long enough to get the necessary survival skills,” he says, nodding slowly as if this is the most practical answer in the world.

Y/N, clearly impressed with his reasoning, tilts her head and grins. “Wow, I love a man with stability,” she says with an approving nod. “But what if I say no?”

Lando shrugs nonchalantly, still in full serious mode. “Then I die alone,” he states matter-of-factly, “Possibly in front of you, for full effect, you know?” Y/N hums thoughtfully, her lips curving into a playful smile. “That’s not dramatic at all,” she replies, clearly amused by his over-the-top answer. Lando pulls a sour face in mock offense, but before he can say anything else, the camera cuts away, letting the playful tension linger.

♡

Lando leans in, the smirk on his face unmistakable. “Do you believe in love at first sight, or do I need to walk past again?” he asks, sending her a wink that could melt glaciers. Y/N, however, doesn’t seem to be moved by his charm. “Please don’t,” she says dryly, her voice unimpressed, “Once was enough.”

Lando pauses, clearly unsure whether that’s a yes or a no. “So, that’s a no?” he asks, as if he’s trying to gauge the temperature of the situation. Y/N looks him dead in the eye and replies, “That’s a ‘try harder.’”

Lando, clearly up for the challenge, clears his throat dramatically, ready for round two. “Okay, okay…” He pauses as if he’s about to drop the smoothest line ever. “If you were a sauce, you’d be extra hot and slightly intimidating.” He flashes a grin at her, clearly proud of his creativity. Y/N, unbothered and clearly not easily impressed, nods slowly. “Smooth,” she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Flattery and emotional damage? I’m impressed.”

Lando grins at her, his confidence soaring. “Why thank you,” he says with a mock bow, clearly pleased with his work.

Y/N rolls her eyes, but the playful banter between them is undeniable. The camera cuts again, just as the energy between them reaches its peak.

♡

"If we ever dated, we'd crash and burn in a week."

"Yep, but it would be hilarious."

"I'm so glad you agree."

"It would also be tragically funny."

"The best kind."

“Absolutely.”

The video ends.

a/n: tysm for reading! i hope you enjoyed, likes and reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated, stay safe xoxo suji :)

taglist: @curlylando

[gojoest]

curiosity (part 2) — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns, childhood best friends to lovers, college, no curse au, once again mention of ex gfs (one of them makes a brief appearance), pining, reader wears boy shorts, reader is a virgin (no virginity loss), so is satoru lol, mutual masturbation (handjobs + fingering), he cums on your belly (accidentally), pussyjob, first kiss, kind of proofread (sry if tenses are messed up), wc: 5.3k, dividers by @/cafekitsune 

this takes place the morning after the handjob you gave satoru and is basically a long ramble about two childhood best friends exploring each other’s bodies (nowhere near in moderation) but finding it difficult to redefine their bond. 

part 1

a/n: i didn’t think i would get around to writing a continuation but here we are... i fear there will be a part 3 as well in the future :’) i hope you enjoy! <3 

Last night Satoru and you slept together, in one bed, for the first time in years. 

Sure, it wasn’t just sleeping like you initially (and very confidently) suggested. Curiosity got the better of you after he, although not intentionally, showed you a side to him you had never seen before. And so, you got a bit handsy. 

Satoru stopped sharing a bed with you during sleepovers sometime early into high school. ‘You always hog the blanket’, ‘You toss and turn a lot’, ‘You breathe too loud’, ‘It’s too hot’... — is what he would say, and you didn’t think much of it. Shrugging it off as him being a rude idiot, trying to make you look bad. 

There was no way he’d actually tell you that he had started popping frequent boners around you, courtesy of puberty along with these unrequited feelings he started harboring for you the day you moved into his neighborhood at the age of four. 

It was embarrassing. He couldn’t possibly come clean to you — you were best friends. What if you came to hate him? What if you started avoiding him? 

He spent his high school years trying to get over you. He started dating around. But he never felt the same way with any of the other girls, a clear sign of which was his actions and the lack of dedication toward them. He’d often forget about promised dates or picking them up after school to walk home together because he was too busy following you around. Helplessly. Hopelessly. He couldn’t just leave you on your own even for a second, the thought of seeing another dude hanging around you would scare the shit out of him. Trying to let go yet strongly clinging to you. You didn’t need to like him back as long as you didn’t like anyone else either. Just stay by his side. 

And now, college isn’t any different. 

Well, it wasn’t. Until last night. 

Satoru couldn’t sleep after what happened while you dozed off quickly, as if the events that took place were nothing out of the ordinary. You seemed oddly comfortable which, truth be told, rose concern in him. 

He had a lot of questions. 

Do you like him? Weren’t you supposed to be at least a bit nervous if you did? Or were you simply so curious about these stuff that anyone would’ve been fine, it just happened to be him? He’s glad it was him. But what will happen with you two now? Will things be awkward? Can you go back to how you used to be? What is he supposed to say to you once you open your eyes? Will you start avoiding him? Should he pretend like nothing happened? 

“Shit, I fucked up”, he whispers, thumbing his forehead like he’s trying to get rid of a headache that isn’t even there. 

Please don’t avoid me, he thinks as his gaze shifts to you, still sleeping soundly. 

You were drooling on the pillow in your sleep. Your hair was a mess and your eyes were crusty, the dried residue sitting in the inner corners of them. The entire blanket was on your side too, covering only you while he was out in the open, his feet cold.  

What’s so good about you anyway?, he thought for a good minute. A soft smile creeping in on his lips. He couldn’t come up with a single thing that wasn't. 

“Mff...”, you let out a drowsy yawn and your eyes flutter open. Rolling on your back, you stretch your arms up and turn your head to look at Satoru. “Mowniiin’ ”, you drag out through another yawn. 

Satoru’s heartrate picks up. Here comes the moment he’s been dreading — facing the consequences. “Hey”, he greets back, a little bit dull in order to mask his nervousness as he acts out in his head all the different possibilities and the plausible end of your friendship. 

“You don’t have a boner again, do you?”, you ask bluntly, unaware of the sweat and blood he’d been shedding in an internal battle up until now, filled with fear that today might be the day he loses it all. 

“Really now?”, he gives you a look. Your crudeness is astounding him but in a way it also lessens the worry in his chest. “You’re really going to ask me that?” 

“...do you?”, you turn on your side again, a glint of amusement in your expression. 

“You know I am. Don’t you see it yourself?”, he clicks his tongue. 

You snicker to yourself. Of course you do. After all, the blanket was wrapped around you only while he laid exposed next to you with no layer to cover the bulge in his shorts. 

“Morning wood?”, you look at it. “Or is it because of me again?” 

“Stop assuming things, it’s morning wood”, he states point-blank. “It’s always like this when I wake up”, which was a lie. It didn’t always happen, or at least it wasn’t this insistent. 

“Hmm”, you nod. “Maybe you’re not cumming enough?” 

“That’s not how it works”, he sighs. “And this is definitely not something I’ve ever expected to hear from you” 

“Hmm”, you nod again. Peeking at him mischievously. “Can I—” 

“No.” 

“But—” 

“Cut it out, will you? What’s gotten into you ever since last night? Asking to touch me and what not?”, he snaps, frustrated.  

“But you let me” 

“Men can’t say no to that when they’re about to bust”, he lies, kind of. “But what the hell is wrong with you?” He thinks it’s so unfair to test him like this when he’s the only one with feelings. It is quite cruel of you. 

“I don’t know”, you shrug, a guilty pout on your mouth. Satoru never raises his voice at you unless something is really bugging him. “I’m not sure myself, but I liked it, what happened last night... I enjoyed it”, you quietly admit. 

“You did?”, his voice goes back to normal, but this time it’s his eyes that snap wide. A slight sense of hope creeps in inside his heart now. Maybe this little slip-up could kick start something, he starts to think. 

You nod. “Didn’t you like it too?” 

“...I did”, his face heats up and he covers it with a hand. The essence of the conversation and the fact you liked touching him made his cock even harder. It wasn’t just a simple morning wood at this point. 

“I want to do it again”, you tell him. “But do you?” 

“You ask me stuff like this when I am horny and expect me to turn you down?” He slowly slides his hand down his face, stopping it right over his mouth and cupping it into his palm. “Are you sure?”, his voice muffled. 

You shake your head affirmatively, with zero hesitation. “Can you touch me too? I got really wet last night while jerking you off... Your struggling face and the sounds you made were really...sexy. I wanted to cum too”, a tint of embarrassment in your tone now that you were saying this out loud. 

Your abrupt and not at all anticipated confession had Satoru almost chocking on his own saliva. Due to shock, it went down the wrong pipe when swallowing, leading him to cough profusely. “I am starting to think that you’re plotting to kill me one of these days” 

“It’s because you told me to come to you if I ever get curious about other things” 

“I clearly did not mean murder” 

You chuckle, and slowly peel the covers off you, throwing them out of the way and kicking them behind you. The shirt you’re wearing rolled up, exposing the boy shorts on your lower half and a damp spot visibly staining them on the front. 

“You're wet", Satoru points out, surprise and smugness mixed in his expression.  

“I thought you didn’t like to state the obvious”, you huff, rushing to fix yourself, but he reaches for your hand and stops you in your tracks.  

“Is it because of me?”, he looks at you with a glint of hope, giving you a taste of your own medicine, while guiding your touch toward his crotch. His other hand pulling his shorts and boxers down, just enough to take his cock out and press your hand on it — feeling less awkward and a little bit more confident about this now that he sees clear indications of your arousal. 

Sure, you touched him last night, but you didn’t see him... It all happened under the covers, so this was a first. He was big, both lengthy and girthy. Veiny too. Precum slicked the tip of his cock. The head was pink while the rest — a lighter shade but still a bit darker than his complexion. You didn’t think of it as pretty, yet it was stirring weird, unknown emotions and desires in you. 

“...yeah, ‘cause of you... I think”, you bury your face in the pillow, shying away, but at the same time you shamelessly wrap your hand around his length, giving it a slow first stroke, causing his breath to rasp in his chest. The needy little pant he let out the second you made contact with him urged you to rub your thighs together, the tension in your lower half growing heavier. 

Now with your roles somehow reversed, you realize how embarrassed he must’ve been last night... 

“Can I?”, he swallows nervously. His hand, slightly shaking, held out in front of your clothed pussy, waiting for your verbal permission before he goes any further.  

“Go ahead, I was the one who asked in the first place”, you reassure. 

Just like he did for you, you help your shorts down for him and place his hand between your folds. “But—”, you pause, timidly flinching at the foreign touch. “Don’t push your fingers very deep, I— well, you know...” 

He smiles. “I know, don’t worry”  

He was aware that you never had your first time. Neither did he, which you would probably never guess. 

Despite his rich and lengthy dating history, Satoru never went that far with any of his girlfriends. Not that the opportunity was never present — he had the looks and he had the charm so naturally they would throw themselves at him quite often. But he simply never desired them enough to even pop a boner. Well, sure it happened a few times here and there and only because some of them resembled you way too much. 

At the end of the day, his dick and his mind were oddly connected. And his mind, it was still stuck on you. Perhaps, deep down, he always hoped that one day you’d be his first. 

Just like last night, you were laid on your sides again, but this time both of you had your hands in each other’s pants. Your faces so close you were touching foreheads and breathing into your mouths. Not kissing, just breathing and exchanging pants and lewd moans as you worked your hands through the pleasure of the other, reveling in the sounds you each made.  

"Is this, um, okay... like this?”, he breathily asks, but what he truly means is ‘Am I doing this right?’, while he’s got his thumb on your clit, rubbing it in circles, and two of his fingers — index and middle — carefully gliding over your inner lips. 

You hum, biting your lip in an attempt to swallow the obscenity threatening to roll out of your tongue. Your mind was slowly going blank. “I-it f-feels real-ly g-good”, you manage through multiple pants. “Too g-good", you add, your grip letting loose around him, slowing down the strokes, the more he teased your folds. But, his free hand grabs yours, squeezing you back around him while he starts to buck his hips into your fist — a subtle reminder to maintain your ministrations, to not forget about him. 

You huff at his actions, but it’s only fair — you acknowledge.  

He must have quite the experience, you think. This thought a bit bothering you on itself, that he’s had his hand down other girls’ pants before, maybe his cock too, so he’s able to multitask like this... While this is a first for you. Unsure why, you feel like slapping him the more you think about it, picturing him with other girls makes you oddly jealous, but his fingers ease you back into pleasure. You’ll get mad at him later, you think. 

“Tell me if it hurts. Okay?”, he nuzzles his nose against yours — since both of his hands were busy now, this was the only way of asking you to look at him. 

He wanted to see your eyes and confirm for himself that you were indeed alright, that he was really doing this right because he’s never done it before, only seen it in porn. He was afraid that he’d get too distracted and hurt you unintentionally. You felt so good against his fingers that it was enough to make him lose control. All the wet dreams he’s had in the past can’t compare. He already had a lewd depiction of you in his mind that he used to jerk off to — about the way you’d look and feel down there, about the noises you’d make, about the ways your face would contort with fervor... But he realizes now that he was too frivolous and lacking in imagination. The real you beats it all. 

You look at him, your brows slightly lifted, lips closed but twitching in betrayal, threatening to let out the loud moan building in your throat. His fingers scarcely prodding in only weakening your resolve. 

“Let it out”, he speaks to you softly. “Don’t hold it back”, again with that sweet, sweet voice. 

"Shit, you’re so foul when you use that kind of voice”, you audibly gasp, and then let it all out.  

He chuckles. 

His pace quicker now, greedily trying to drag more moans out of you. His entire palm, squished between your legs, now covering your pussy, rubbing harder against your folds with his middle finger slightly curled so the tip of it darts inside you with every movement. Not too deep, just enough to not break your hymen. It was driving you insane and you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. You’re certain you have never been this loud in your entire life. And you really wanted to slap him again because you were the only mess right now, your urge going stronger after witnessing that cheeky expression on his face, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, too focused to make you cum — maybe he was paying you back for last night. 

But alas, you couldn’t do anything about it. You lost control, completely as he hit just the right places and brought you overwhelming, toe-curling pleasure. 

“Did it feel good?”, Satoru curiously peeks at you as you try to catch your breath. 

“Yes”, you heave. His hand was still there, fingers fumbling with your folds, hence why the tremors washing through your body took longer to quiet down. “Very”, you add. 

“Will you help me finish too?” 

You nod, fixing your loose grip around his cock but moving it in a quite relaxed manner, slowly. 

“Are you doing this on purpose?”, he huffs. 

“No. What’s the rush?” 

“We have classes” 

“We’re already late” 

You squeeze, your strokes now steadier — not faster, but heavier — as you drag your hand up and down, earning a gratifying groan out of him. “We can skip altogether”  

“And?”, he pants, with eyes half-lidded he looks at you. Are you going to suggest what he’s thinking about too? 

“We can stay like this for a bit” — you gather your pace. “Wash up” — accelerating it more after the pause. “Have breakfast” — and some more. “And do this all over again” — and... 

Satoru opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he moans low and throatily as his orgasm starts to build up. 

Was it the way you moved your hand or what you said that made him crumble so fast, he was not so sure. But it was quite the intense thing. He bucked his hips a little until every bit of drop was out, and he did so in a way that made you clench. The way he squeezed his eyes shut, nose scrunched up while he bit his lower lip, his hand gripping your waist to steady himself as he thrusted into your fist... It was way too of an arousing sight. 

He made a huge mess too. His cum sprayed all over your belly, uncontrollably. Your hand and fingers coated in it too. 

“Shit— I didn’t mean to”, he panics, jolting and rushing to grab some tissues from the nightstand, but you stop him. 

“It's okay”, you reassure him. “I think I like it”, you confess. “Next time you can cum on me intentionally” 

“There is really something wrong with your head, we should go get you checked out”, he mocks, but he hides his face in the pillow to conceal the smile stretching on his lips along with the already existing blush on his cheeks. Next time, huh?  

You stayed in for the day. Just as you suggested, you lingered in bed for a little longer, bickering back and forth, which put Satoru at ease. He was sick worried, but things were still the same between you two. Not quite as they used to be, considering last night and this morning, but you were still you. There was no tension, nor any awkwardness in the air. 

You washed up together over the bathroom sink, bumping hips as you brushed your teeth. 

He always kept a spare toothbrush for you for when you’d stay the night. He diligently changed it with a new one every now and then. Although you didn’t have any clothes over at his dorm room, he gave you his while complaining how thoughtless you were for not bringing spare clothing with you, only causing him more trouble with piling up more laundry. But he liked it, secretly. His t-shirts looked good on you, like you were his girlfriend. He didn’t have any clothes back at your room either, at first. There was no way yours would ever fit him, so he brought some and left them there. You always washed them with your clothes and they smelled like the detergent you’d always use. It made him feel like he was your boyfriend. 

Later, you had breakfast, and after that — another session of exploring your bodies. Again, you only used your hands. He sat you on the table and fingered you while you stroked his cock. 

You played some games, read manga, took a nap, ate lunch, and then you did it again. 

And again, after dinner. 

Then some more before you went to bed. 

You never kissed though, not yet. As if the kiss itself meant something entirely different in the light of what you were doing, something more intimate than masturbating each other. 

Day two and three were no different, you stayed locked in and repeated. You ate, you fucked each other with your hands, and you slept. 

Nothing changed on the fourth either, only that you ran out of food but ordered takeout. 

“Can you make it a bit spicy?”, Satoru spoke on the phone to a nearby restaurant he’d frequently order from. So frequently in fact that they knew his order by heart, and asking for the dish to be spicy was unusual of him.  

“Huh? You always make we don’t put any spice in your food? Are you sure?”, the takeout clerk gasped from the other side of the line. 

Scratching the back of his head, Satoru looked around to see if you were still in the bathroom before he spoke. “Yeah, I know. But, um— my girlfriend likes it”, he said, his face heating up with a red hue. 

You weren’t his girlfriend. Neither of you made an attempt to redefine your relationship, and he was too afraid to make the first step. What if you were simply acting out this way because you were indeed just curious?  

Either way, he wanted to say it. To say that you were his girlfriend. And it wasn’t the first time he’d done it. People would often time confuse you for a couple, and he’d never flat out deny it. You never knew about this though, it always happened behind your back. Either his friends being too nosy, or an old lady on the street telling him how good you looked together after you ran off to pet a stray cat. 

On the fifth day, some friends got a bit worried. You were gone for almost an entire week, skipping classes, so that was a given. 

suguru: wtf bro  suguru: u alive? 

satoru: yeah  satoru: more than ever 

suguru: huh 

satoru: i might have a shot with her  satoru: i'll tell u later 

suguru: with who? 

satoru: ur mom i've been pining over since i was four  satoru: be fr now  

suguru: wait  suguru: HER her??????????? 

satoru: yeah HER her 

suguru: wow it's happening? 

satoru: idk  satoru: ...kinda 

suguru: good luck bro  suguru: if you fuck it up i'll try my chance with her  suguru: so make sure u do ur best LOL 

satoru: i will beat u up and block u 

Naturally, it started to feel less awkward the more you did it. ‘Are you hard?’ or ‘Are you wet?’ being the initiating lines you were both dying to hear now, knowing well what they’d lead to. The answer was always ‘yes’, there was no denying that you were both hard and wet around each other for the most part. 

At some point you began skipping the questions, just letting your hands roam and find out. Consent was always silently present. 

Even when you weren’t being naughty with each other, it was different. You had definitely started seeing Satoru in a new light, which scared you a little bit. The way you looked at him, and the way you caught him looking at you — it wasn’t the same as it had been. There was more to it. 

On the sixth day, you tried something different.  

“My hands are tired”, you complain. 

“Let’s try something different”, Satoru proposes. 

He lies on his back, holding his cock flat against his stomach. “Hop on it” 

“What—”, your eyes pop out in shock. “I’m not ready for that, yet”, you squirm, holding your face in your palms. You were curious about intercourse, of course, but you were also scared. All the forums you scrolled through had a different take on it — some netizens said the first time was painful while others claimed they only felt a slight discomfort but nothing more. Many mentioned bleeding too. You didn’t know which category you’d fall into. And as much as you wanted it, the idea of putting Satoru’s cock inside you was quite intimidating. He was big. Will it even fit?  

Satoru chuckles. “I don’t mean that — just straddle me, sit yourself right on top of it and rock your hips back and forth” He points at his cock, “See, I am holding it down for you so it won’t enter you. You’ll just hump against the length of it and nothing more. It’ll feel good, I promise” 

You peek at him from between your fingers. “Okay”, you timidly agree. 

It was good, but short-lived. Unfortunately, you didn’t get to finish in this position because Satoru came too soon and too hard, his entire body shivering continuously. He had no idea what he was getting himself into when he proposed it but having your warmth and your slick on his cock directly from the source messed him up. It took him every ounce of restraint not to just slide it in and have his way with you. 

On the seventh day, after all the things you’d done, you finally shared your first kiss.  

It was nothing nearly romantic like it was in the books and in the movies. In fact, it kind of happened out of spite. 

It was around lunchtime. You both felt like eating pizza today, and so you ordered. In the meantime, while waiting for your food to be delivered, you hopped in the bathroom to take a quick shower. 

Satoru wanted to join you too, but you kicked him out, telling him to wait for the delivery guy. With a tail between his legs and a hangdog face he crawled back on the bed, huffing and puffing loudly so you could hear him and maybe pity him enough to invite him back... 

His brilliant performance of a sad puppy was interrupted by a knock on the door. This was quick, he thought, and jumped out of the bed, thrilled — he could pay for the food and sneak in to play with you... 

He quickly tossed on a shirt and put on some shorts on the way to get the door. 

It was not the food. 

It was his ex, standing on his doorstep with her arms crossed over her waist, eyeing him demandingly. 

“Don’t tell me you’re so heartbroken over our breakup that you would lock yourself in your room and skip classes for an entire week?”, she scoffs. 

“Did you forget who broke up with who?”, Satoru snorts. 

For sure, she did not. Satoru did it quite cruelly, over text after ghosting her for three days. It was not his proudest moment but he didn’t care enough to feel guilty over it.  

And she was fully aware of it too. But still, she liked him a lot, in fact she liked him ever since orientation and it took her an entire year to work her way to him. She was desperate. 

She sighs deeply, dropping the attitude now. “You never replied to my messages” 

“Didn’t see” 

“You did, but you left me on seen” 

“Must’ve forgotten to answer” 

His answers were short and dry. The timing was simply bad, and he wanted her out of here before you came out of the shower, concerned that her being here would create a misunderstanding in your head. 

“Look, I am sorry I said all those stuff about your friend. But it bothered me, okay? You treated her more like a girlfriend than you did me, your actual girlfriend... I was constantly under the impression that—”, before she could finish a third voice cut her off. 

“’Toru”, you yell from behind him. “Is it the food?” 

Your hair damp, a towel wrapped around your body, you saunter over to the door from behind him to peek, but your feet freeze in place. 

Oh? That girl... his ex. 

You woke up happy this morning, in fact you woke up happy every morning for the past seven days but now your mood was foul all of a sudden. That same odd feeling you’d get whenever you thought of Satoru with another girl creeped in in your chest. While you brushed it off easily in the past, you couldn’t quite do so now. The irritation grew more insistent. Your demons were threatening to act up. 

“...there was something going on between you”, the girl finishes her sentence, then pauses to let out a short laugh and shake her head in disbelief before she continues. “I guess my hunch was right, huh?” 

You step a little closer, standing right next to Satoru. 

Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on came over you. Of course, you could read the room — she obviously came here to mend things up. And you were not happy about it. Not in the slightest. Was this annoying feeling tugging at your chest called jealousy? You didn’t have a reason to hate this girl, she did nothing to you. Yet... 

“Well, well. Aren’t you a smart one?” — you couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth right now but you didn’t have it in you to stop.  

Utterly amused, Satoru stared at you. He was shocked, in a pleasingly new way. A semblance of an idiotic smile plastered on his lips while he did nothing to stop you. 

“Should I perhaps solidify your hunch with a proof so you stop running after someone else’s boyfriend?”, you glare at her. 

Standing on your toes, you clutch a handful of Satoru’s shirt with both hands, pulling him down to the level of your face for your lips to reach his, and kiss him. 

Helpless in the face of your lips laid against his, he lets out an audible gasp. The sound of it vibrating against your mouth. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he thinks, but his eyes close anyway, melting into the softness of your lips. There was no tongue, just a long peck, and he couldn’t help but smile into it. 

Without breaking the kiss, you look at the girl from the corner of your eye, and you slam the door in her face. 

“Good riddance”, you murmur after pulling away from Satoru, and walk back inside. 

He never knew that a simple kiss like this could make him so dizzy that he would lose his balance and stumble. As if his feet got caught in something he involuntarily took a few sharp steps forward, putting his arms out to steady himself and avoid falling face down. 

“Hey”, he called out, slowly following behind you. 

“What’s her deal anyway?”, you keep going at it, still beyond irritated. “Didn’t you guys break up?” 

“Hey”, he speaks again, stepping closer. 

“And she's pestering you like this? The audacity...” 

“Hey—” 

“What!”, you yell, turning around to give him a scolding too because, knowing him, he probably didn’t end things with her in a manner that was polite and proper.  

...but he was right behind you, smiling at you affectionately with his eyes. It made your breath hitch, and your chest — feel a bit peculiar. 

“Hey”, he repeats again, softly. His hands squish your cheeks inside his palms and he slowly cranes his neck down. “Did you mean it?”, he asks through a whisper. 

You shift your gaze to the side, avoiding to look at him directly. “Did I mean what?”, you puff. 

“Calling me your boyfriend”, he tilts his head to the side, blocking your view and forcing you to look at him. 

“No... I was just saving your ass” — you try to break free to prevent the heat on your cheeks from warming the skin of his palms, from giving you away. But he’s holding you still. 

He leans in closer and whispers, “Would it be so bad if I was your boyfriend?” 

It was not a question as much it was a plea. Let me. 

“You’re a bit of a jerk sometimes, so maybe? I know for sure people will judge me for my poor taste” 

“Your mom won’t, she likes me”, he points out, proudly. 

“She likes you more than she likes me, her own daughter, so her opinion is invalid. In fact, she would tell you to go pick someone better”, you snort, and he laughs. She really did love him like her own son. After all, he grew up in her hands along with you. You spent day and night together, in and out of each other’s houses. 

“I am serious”, he gives a gentle squeeze around your face, an attempt to snap you out of the ongoing banter because he was desperate to know. You didn’t give him a proper answer, but you didn’t reject him either — there was still hope, he thought. “Would you hate it?” 

“...I don’t know”, you let out quietly, conflicted. 

“Should we try? Or are you only curious about my body?” 

“See? You’re kind of a jerk after all”, you pout. “Will things change... between us?” 

“Aren’t they already changing?”, he smiles. 

You hum, softly tugging at the hem of his shirt with both of your hands. "I don't want to lose my best friend if we screw this up” 

“Same”, he nuzzles his face closer. “That’s why, we won’t screw this up”, he quietly chants into you like a promise, drawing his lips to yours tenderly before either of you have the chance to panic any further about the implications of this change. 

[martiniblues]

CUPIDS CHOKEHOLD , spencer reid

pairing boyfriend!spencer x fem!reader

synopsis you decide to visit spencer during his lunch break. unbeknownst to you, the team has been waiting for your arrival since they found out about you and spencer’s relationship.

genre fluff, reader is described with a cheugy/funky kind of style, and just overall teasing from the team lol.

standing in the mirrored elevator, you took in your appearance one last time. your patterned tights, babydoll dress, denim jacket, and colorful accessories were nothing out of the ordinary for you.  you took pride in your sense of fashion, not caring how others perceived you. 

spencer made it known to you almost daily how much he adored the way you styled yourself. your whimsical and girly attire added the perfect contrast to his “grandpa attire” as you liked to call it. 

returning your tube of lipgloss to its desired spot, you heard the faint ding of the elevator, alerting you of your arrival. you took a deep breath before walking up to the secretary at the counter. the building was sleek and shiny, only emphasizing your appearance. 

the brunette welcomed you, asking for your id before you heard your name being called by an all too familiar voice. “she’s with me; actually, no need to call in or anything.” spencer grabbed the visitors badge and clipped it to the pocket of your jacket before looking at you. 

“hey spence,” you giggled, adjusting his glasses that had gone askew from his evident rush to get to you. he blushed as you slid your hand to the side of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek softly. 

he grabbed your hand and led you into what you deemed to be the “bullpen” spencer had mentioned to you before. your boots clicked on the ground, muffled by the sounds of the bau. 

many workers turned and looked, unfamiliar with your presence and even more shocked that you were with spencer. he looked at you, noticing your wondering eyes. “it’s a little hectic right now, sorry.” he pulled you into his cubicle, already having a chair ready for you. 

“its actually really cool seeing this place for the first time. it really is like the tv shows.” he almost laughed at your childlike awe, reaching over to roll your chair closer to his own. satisfied with your positioning, spencer moved a few folders and notebooks from his desk to make room for your shared food. 

you could only get one bite in before a presence appeared behind you. “you invited mrs. genius here, and you didn’t tell anyone?” two hands came to grab spencer by his shoulders, causing him to jump slightly. 

the man smiled at you with possibly the whitest teeth you had ever seen. his broad shoulders, stature, and dark skin made him almost god-like. “morgan-“ spencer began before another head peaked around him.

“the woman, the myth, the legend!” the shorter blonde woman gasped, walking over to you. spinning your chair so that you were facing her entirely, her eyes lit up. “you are literally the cutest thing i have ever seen. boy wonder, why haven’t you brought her in sooner?” the nickname made you laugh, looking at spencer to see the embarrassed look on his face. 

“morgan and garcia, back off before you scare the poor girl away.” a dark-haired woman leaned against the desk behind you. soon after, another blonde and two older men crowed around you. 

they waited eagerly as spencer introduced you, looking between you two as if this were the best thing they had ever seen. “it’s nice to meet you all. spence has told me so much about you guys.” you rose from your seat, shaking their hands so as not to come off as unprofessional in such a serious building. 

even if it contradicted their previous actions…

“she even has a nickname for him, oh derek hold me before i pass out from the beauty of young love.” penelope held her hand to her heart, leaning into the man beside her as he rolled his eyes from her antics. 

“she was nearly this dramatic when she noticed the picture spencer put up of you on his desk.” rossi pointed at the item you had failed to notice as you arrived. 

tucked beside his computer, a small black and white photobooth strip stared back at you. memories of the early bits of your relationship flooded your mind.

you smiled lightly at the last panel, remembering how nervous you had been to kiss spencer on camera. he looked up at you, mirroring your expression.

the team continued to interrogate you, asking about where the two of you met, your first date, who asked out who first, almost as if they were profiling you. 

spencer sighed at the realization, clearly annoyed at your alone time being interrupted. you noticed, sitting back down beside him and looking at him to reassure him that you were fine. 

“glad to see she really likes him and wasn’t paid.” emily nodded towards spencer’s cheek. a light pink kiss mark adorned his skin, making the rest of the team snicker before he wiped it off with the back of his hand. 

“are you guys trying to scare her away?” spencer whined, feeling like a boy introducing his first girlfriend to his embarrassing family. 

“come on, reid, we’re only messing with you.” jj perched her hand on her hip, smiling at you warmly. “we’ll let you guys be for now, but don’t leave too soon. we have to give her a tour!” penelope insisted, turning to the group as they all shook their heads in agreement. 

“that’d be nice, thank you.” you replied before turning back to your boyfriend. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” spencer mumbled, leaning into your side.

you ruffled his hair, “i see why you talk about them so much. they clearly care about you a lot.” you looked over your shoulder, catching them spying from one of the conference rooms. 

smirking you turned back to spencer, kissing his cheek once more before you continued to eat and talk about what you’d plan to do after he got off work. 

after you finished your mostly uninterrupted lunch, you were swept away by penelope as she gave you your promised tour. showing you everyone’s office, the break room, multiple conference rooms, and even the dingy locker room in the very back.

after one tight hug from morgan, a promise for a girls night from penelope, some teasing from jj and emily, and more typical goodbyes from hotch and rossi, you were finally walking back to your car.

you expected spencer to just walk you back to the elevator, but your face quickly lit up when he stepped inside, pulling you flush against him and pressing a button to make the doors close.

“finally have you alone.” he mumbled before crashing his lips to yours. you gasped at his sudden boldness, highly due to the lack of curious eyes, and moved your hands to rest behind his neck.

his hands went under your jacket, yearning to be close to you but having enough sense to not pull anything too risky. “i’ve been wanting to do that since you’ve got here.” he pulled away shortly before the ding of the elevator announced your arrival.

you just grabbed his hand and pulled him along side you. “they were really sweet, spence. i’m happy you work with people that are so much like a family.” as you made it to your car you turned around, your back leaning against your trunk as spencer came to stand in-front of you.

“they’re nosey like one, for sure.” he joked, bringing his hand to rest on your hip once again. you sighed before reaching up to kiss him one last time. “i’ll see you tonight.” you promised, squeezing his hand before it left yours in his return to work.

before you got in your car, you turned around looking up to see six familiar faces looking right back at you.

just something i thought of off a whim because i saw an edit of the bau to 400 lux by lorde and got SOOOOO emotional. like thats my family fr!!!! hope you enjoyed<333

[yuujispinkhair]

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. College AU. 1k words. Minors don't interact.

I wrote this drabble for New Year's Eve but forgot to post it lol. I just found it again and decided to share it now. I hope you can still feel the magic of a New Year's Eve kiss with Kuna even when it's already April ;) Divider @/.chilumitos

Sukuna kisses you for the first time on the rooftop of his dorm on New Year's Eve.

He's had his eyes on you for a while but never acted on it because you are his little brother's friend, and Sukuna knew he would get into trouble with the brat if he fucked you. So he kept his hands to himself.

Yeah, sure, Sukuna flirted with you anytime he ran into you during the last few months when you were over at his dorm to visit his brother. But that's just the way Sukuna is: always smirking and always saying something suggestive. Most of the time, he doesn't even mean it. But with you, it's different.

Sukuna likes how you laugh about the shit he says and how you flirt back, just as playful as he is. And damn, he likes how you ask him seemingly genuine questions about his nerdy little hobbies, like reading history books and collecting Heian-era documentaries, something that most other people never seem to ask him about.

And somehow, at some point during the last few months, Sukuna actually started to look forward to seeing you. And somehow, he lost interest in fucking someone new every other night. It even got to a point where his brother asked him if he was sick because there were no new hickeys on Sukuna's neck. And somehow, Sukuna didn't even flirt with others anymore, but saved all his charm only for you.

Two months ago, Sukuna finally realized he had a problem because all he could think about was you.

It's crazy. He never intended to like you that much. And it's not just crazy, but also scary because Sukuna isn't used to feeling these kinds of things. It makes him feel so... vulnerable. As if he could lose something he doesn't even have yet. As if he could truly get hurt.

Plus, you are such a good girl, so kind and sweet, and Sukuna is that troublemaking bad boy, and he low-key feared he wouldn't be good for you. So he held himself back all this time.

But now it's a few seconds before midnight on New Year's Eve, and you are standing before Sukuna, looking so pretty in your red glittery dress as you look at the night sky, excited for the fireworks. And fuck it, Sukuna doesn't want to hold back anymore.

Especially not when he sees that white-haired Gojo brat standing next to you, watching you over the rim of those stupid sunglasses that he even wears at night while slowly leaning closer, apparently trying to get lucky and steal a kiss when the clock strikes midnight.

Sukuna has to do something. He takes a step closer to you, bumping into your back, and you look over your shoulder, eyes becoming big when you see who it is, and for a moment, Sukuna feels a strange fluttery feeling in his stomach that almost makes him turn around again and run.

But then you smile warmly at him and say his name, or at least that's what Sukuna can read off your lips because the crowd around you starts to cheer loudly at that moment, starting the countdown to the New Year, swallowing your words.

But it's enough for Sukuna, and he smirks at you, reaching out to wrap his muscular arms around you from behind and lean down to murmur into your ear, "Happy New Year, princess. I bet you've been wishing for me to be your New Year's kiss, huh?"

He sounds playful and confident, but his pulse is racing and his chest feels too tight. Sukuna realizes he is nervous. Big bad Sukuna, who is never nervous, but somehow standing behind you a few seconds before the clock strikes midnight on New Year's Eve, with his arms loosely wrapped around you and his low voice saying things he wishes were actually true, is making him feel outright scared.

Sukuna doesn't even know, though, if he is scared that you will push him away, or if he is more scared that you will let him kiss you and make him fall even more for you.

You laugh, turning around in Sukuna's arms, tilting your head to look up at him, wishing him a Happy New Year, too, looking a bit sheepish and shy as you tentatively wrap your arms around Sukuna, too.

You gaze deeply into his eyes, your lips parted slightly, your breath coming out in little puffs in the chilly air as you look at Sukuna, a bit nervous but also hopeful. As if you are starting to believe in New Year's wishes coming true.

Sukuna is the one who brushes his lips over yours first. It's a tentative and gentle kiss, something that surprises him because he usually isn't like that. But it feels right to be this gentle with you.

You don't push him away, but instead sigh and kiss him back, your hands clinging tightly to Sukuna's hoodie, as if you are scared he will leave again. But Sukuna doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon. Not when your lips feel so good against his. Not when he has been thinking about this for months.

The kiss is much too long for a Happy New Year kiss. You miss the whole fireworks, but neither of you cares, and you just keep kissing as if you are drunk on each other's lips.

Sukuna groans softly when he pushes his tongue into your warm mouth, and you lick it slowly, playing with his tongue piercing while your smaller body presses tightly against him. Sukuna cups your jaw with one of his large tattooed hands, his thumb absentmindedly caressing your cheek, lost in your kiss, in your sweetness, much better than any drug he ever tried.

And you are on your tiptoes, leaning against Sukuna, kissing him back eagerly, clearly as lost in him as he is in you. Your hands slip under Sukuna's hoodie, maybe just to warm your cold hands, or maybe because you need him even closer, just like he needs you.

You caress his skin right where his tattoos are, making Sukuna grin into the kiss because he knows all those times he decided to walk shirtless into the living room while you were over visiting Yuuji paid off. You seem to know exactly where his tats are. You probably have been craving to trace them with your fingers for months. Just like Sukuna has been craving to wrap you in his arms and trace your soft lips with his tongue.

Well, how lucky you are because Sukuna plans to let you explore every single one of his tattoos in the New Year. And how lucky Sukuna is because he is kissing the only girl he ever wanted to make his girlfriend.

Sukuna smiles against your lips. He knows exactly what his New Year's resolution is.

I NEED HIM 😭😭 Writing this made me swoon and sigh and YEARN like crazy. I am happy I found this drabble again! I hope you enjoyed it even though New Year's Eve is far away.

Reblogs and comments would be very sweet 💗

[blackenedsnow]

Hiiiii so if you want to ignore this you can, but I just got a dog, His name is bubba, (yes, TCM ref.), and it got me thinkin, "hey, what would the slasher's reaction be to the reader having a pet that shared the same name as them?" I'd like this maybe with Bubba, Thomas, Jason, Michael, the Sinclairs, and whatever other slasher you wanna add (luv ur work btw :3)

slashers with a reader who has a pet that shares a name with them ; headcanons

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Bubba Sawyer x Reader, Thomas Hewitt x Reader, Jason Voorhees x Reader, Michael Myers x Reader, Lester Sinclair x Reader, Vincent Sinclair x Reader, Bo Sinclair x Reader

NOTE: Thank you for the kind words! :) This is such a cute idea and I loved writing these. Also this was mostly aimed towards cats and dogs because I literally couldn't think of anything for like.. any other variety 😭😭

BUBBA SAWYER

When you introduced your pet as "Bubba," you fully expected Bubba himself to tilt his head like a confused puppy.

The second he realized the two of them had the same name was priceless.

He started pointing at himself, then at your pet, as if to confirm he was hearing things right.

After the initial shock, Bubba became incredibly attached to your pet.

He'd follow Bubba Jr. (LOL) around the house, and you'd catch him feeding stuff to your pet that he shouldn't be when he thought you weren’t looking.

It was strangely sweet how proud he seemed to share a name with your pet, even if it did get a little confusing at times when you called for one of them.

If anything, Bubba grew a bit possessive.

He wanted to be your favorite Bubba, after all, and you could swear he would get jealous if you gave the pet too much attention!

THOMAS HEWITT

Thomas was initially quiet about the whole name-sharing situation.

He didn’t show any particular reaction when you introduced your pet as "Tommy" (or "Thomas"), but you could tell something was on his mind by the way he kept glancing between you and your pet.

At first, he just gave an amused huff and shrugged it off, figuring it was a funny coincidence.

But deep down, he was secretly touched.

Not that he’d admit it, of course.

Over time, though, you’d notice him sneaking affectionate looks to your pet when no one was around.

Thomas actually liked the idea of having a namesake—even if it was a animal—because it made him feel a little more connected to you.

It was something small, but it gave him a sense of belonging, which was rare for him.

JASON VOORHEES

When you told Jason you had a pet named "Jason," he froze for a solid minute, staring at you with that blank hockey mask of his.

He didn’t really know how to process it at first.

On the one hand, it was strange hearing his name on your lips when you weren’t talking to him.

But on the other hand, there was something oddly endearing about it.

Jason grew protective of your pet in his own silent way.

He’d keep a close eye on them, ensuring they were always safe and sound.

Whenever you called for "Jason," he’d appear too—just to make sure you didn’t need him for anything important.

The fact that he shared a name with your pet didn’t bother him too much, especially since you never mixed up the two of them (though there were a few amusing moments when both Jasons turned their heads at the same time).

Ultimately, he found a sense of kinship with your pet, almost like they were a little duo.

Two Jasons, both devoted to you.

MICHAEL MYERS

Michael’s reaction to hearing your pet’s name?

Pure silence.

As usual..

He just stood there, staring at you with that emotionless mask.

You couldn’t tell if he found it funny, annoying, or if he simply didn’t care.

But in classic Michael fashion, he wasn’t about to make a big deal out of it.

Over time, though, you’d start to notice little things—like how Michael would give your pet long, lingering looks whenever you weren’t paying attention, or how he’d mysteriously disappear and reappear at the same time as your pet's walks.

It was as if he was silently competing for your attention.

Not that he’d admit it.

He wasn’t jealous exactly, but Michael didn’t like sharing.

Especially not his name.

That being said, he tolerated your pet because it made you happy..

LESTER SINCLAIR

“Oh, wow! You’ve got a dog named Lester? Ain’t that somethin’!”

Lester burst out laughing when you introduced your pet, finding it genuinely hilarious that your pet had the same name as him.

He didn’t take it seriously at all—if anything, he was proud.

"Now we’re like a little team, huh?"

he joked, ruffling your pet's fur and making fast friends with them.

Lester thought it was funny whenever you called for "Lester" and both of them turned to look at you, and he’d laugh every time.

He didn’t mind sharing the name at all—in fact, he loved it.

Your pet quickly became his partner in crime during his rounds through Ambrose.

He’d always bring treats for them and refer to the two of them as "the Lesters," thinking the whole situation was a blast.

VINCENT SINCLAIR

Vincent was intrigued, to say the least.

He didn’t talk much, but when you introduced your pet as "Vincent," you could see the curiosity in his eyes behind the mask.

He wasn’t used to hearing his name spoken aloud, so it was a little strange at first, but he didn’t dislike it.

He found it almost poetic that your pet shared his name.

Vincent wasn’t one for words, but the quiet moments when he watched you with your pet made him feel a strange warmth in his chest.

Your pet often sat in his art studio while he worked, and over time, Vincent would even carve small figurines resembling your pet.

While it was a bit odd at first, Vincent enjoyed the quiet companionship.

Your pet’s presence wasn’t invasive, and sharing a name felt more like sharing a piece of himself with you.

BO SINCLAIR

Bo wasn’t exactly thrilled when he found out you had a pet named after him.

"Bo?"

he’d ask, raising an eyebrow.

"You named a damn animal after me?"

At first, he acted annoyed, but it didn’t take long for that classic Bo charm to kick in.

"Well, I guess it’s fitting. Both of us handsome devils, huh?"

He’d joke about it, brushing off the initial surprise, but there was always a part of him that felt a little smug about it.

Bo liked the idea of you having a constant reminder of him, even if it was in the form of a pet.

And while he’d never admit it, he found himself getting a little jealous when you called your pet's name, and he didn’t get the attention.

You’d catch him grumbling, muttering under his breath,

"Don’t forget who the real Bo is, sweetheart."

He’d eventually warm up to the pet, though, and you’d see him giving them sneaky pets when he thought you weren’t looking.