#against my own will i go back and. surprisingly do okay

[ravenwolfie97]

im in that strange state of unsleep again

[sunrizef1]

Milk and Sugar

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not edited, cursing maybe, the ex gf isn’t anyone specific don’t @ me

Summary: Max is tired of his persistent ex girlfriend and friends that are maybe a little too empathetic about his breakup. What better way to scare them off than getting a new girlfriend? But he doesn’t actually want a new relationship. Enter: you. The perfect (fake) new girlfriend.

Word Count: 9.6k

Authors Note: this fic was kicking my ass im gonna be so fr. It took forever and I just couldn’t write the ending for some reason. Hopefully now that this is up, I can do something else lmfao

You were just doing a favor for a friend.

Or that’s what you had told yourself when Max had originally asked you to go along with his stupid idea. You hadn’t even really wanted to agree, by the way. He had just needed your help so badly and that’s what friends are for, right?

So that’s how you’d ended up in his garage, Red Bull hat pulled tightly over your head as you watched his car sail around the track in Brazil, the season well under way.

You’d met Max a few years back. You’d moved into the apartment next to his, not even blinking as your eyes scanned over the future world champion, too focused on your dog trying his best to distract you from the heavy box in your hands.

“Apollo! Stop!” You sighed at the dog as he jumped at your legs, trying his hardest to knock the box full of dog food and treats out of your arms. The dog, not knowing English, didn’t listen, of course, continuing his assault on your calves.

The box tilts in your grasp, coming dangerously close to falling out of your arms. But suddenly, the weight is lifted away and Apollo seems to turn his attention to whatever had relieved you from your struggle, giving you the opportunity to pull the small dog into your grasp, trying your best to calm his rowdiness down.

Once you’ve gotten the dog to calm down a significant amount, you look up to see who’d saved you from hours of cleaning loose dog food off the floor during your first day in your new apartment. You’re met with bright blue eyes staring back at you, a concerned look on the strangers face.

You’re too worried about the pretty man in front of you to even worry about Apollo as he starts to nibble lightly on your jacket.

“Are you okay?” And then he speaks for the first time and you’re captivated. Not in a love-at-first-sight way, of course. More of a this-guy-might-be-perfect kind of way.

You nod, gently separating your dogs mouth off your hoodie string, petting his, most-likely, empty head warmly, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. This little guy just really wanted that food, I guess.”

The stranger laughs, moving the box in his arms to rest against his hip, “I’m more of a cat person, anyway.”

You fake a wince, shaking your head with a frown, “Ahh, guess we can’t be friends then, mysterious stranger. Im a dog person all the way.”

He laughs again, grinning warmly, “Any way I could help you with this? Can’t imagine it’s easy moving in with a dog running around.”

Your eyes widen at his words, your hand fumbling to fish the key to your new apartment out of your pocket, “Only if you’re free! I wouldn’t want to bother my new neighbor on my first day.”

Your neighbor shakes his head, light brown hair falling down on his forehead, “It’s no big deal, I’m surprisingly free today.”

You smile, pushing the door to your apartment open, setting Apollo down as you enter. The dog immediately starts to scope out the area, bounding up and down the halls, his collar jangling loudly as he does. You hear the man enter behind you, watching as he walks over and places the box of dog food on the counter in the kitchen.

“Usually I learn a man’s name before I invite him into my apartment,” you smirk, laughing as a blush coats your neighbors face. He takes the few steps back over to close the gap between you, sticking out a calloused hand toward you.

“I’m Max.”

You smile, repeating his name before reciting your own, clasping your hand in his much rougher one, tilting your head up at him as you shake, letting go after a few moments.

“It’s nice to meet you max,” you say, smiling as you see Max’s face light up happily, “How inclined would you be to helping me get the rest of my boxes?”

Max laughs as he sees the sweet grin on your face, shaking his head as he moves toward the door, “I’d love to help, y/n. Can’t have my new favorite neighbor moving in alone, can I?”

Your face splits into a grin as you follow him toward the exit, turning to make sure Apollo was comfortably inside the apartment so he wouldn’t try and run away before closing the door behind you.

Max did help you that day, the moving in process going substantially quicker with the help of the athlete. He even invited you over to his place for dinner, explaining that it’d be too much of a hassle for you to make dinner after moving in all day. You didn’t bring up the fact he’d been moving all day as well, simply following him next door instead.

That had been three years ago and you’d been friends ever since. It was a casual friendship, more moved by the proximity than anything else.

He’d had to explain f1 to you, you being completely unfamiliar with the sport despite having moved to Monaco, probably the place with the most connection to it. Now, you’d casually watch his races as you worked or ate dinner, not entirely sure what was going on but supporting your friend anyway.

He’d also eventually asked you to watch his cats for him, Jimmy and Sassy being surprisingly friendly with your puppy. Max had been scared about introducing them, prefacing with many statements about how much the cats hated dogs and that it really wouldnt be a problem if you couldn’t watch them if they hated each other.

All that talk went out the window when the first thing the pets did when they met each other was take a nap.

It was January when it happened. You had been sitting calmly in your apartment, watching Bridgerton and eating pasta, your work computer abandoned to the side of the couch. You had a blanket pulled over your lap, a hot mug of tea sitting on the coffee table in front of you. Rare snow fell softly outside your window, albeit not very much snow but snow nonetheless.

You were very content.

This, of course, all came crashing down when you heard the sound of your apartment door banging open, heavy footsteps signaling the arrival of your neighbor. You’d given him a key for emergencies, although you couldn’t possibly imagine what could warrant an emergency at this time.

You roll your eyes as you hear him approach, setting your pasta down on the table and grabbing the remote to pause your show, turning as Max throws himself down on the couch next to you.

“Hello, Max. Can I help you?” You sigh, trying to force a smile onto your face. Max seems to catch your discontent and grimaces, wincing away slightly.

“Bad time?”

You let out a breath, not able to stay mad at the Dutch man for very long, “Maybe a little, but it’s fine, really. Did you need something?”

Max nods, sitting up straighter, “I may or may not have a formal request. Neighbor to neighbor.”

You furrow your eyebrows at his response, noting his slightly nervous behavior, “Okay?”

He takes a deep breath before speaking, his eyes trailing over toward where your tv was currently paused, “You know how I just went through that breakup, right?”

You hum, all too familiar with the aforementioned breakup, having had Max barge into your apartment for comfort food and movie marathons more than a few nights in the wake of his, now ex, girlfriends departure.

“Well,” Max starts and you can sense the hesitation in his tone but considering he had interrupted your night, you opted to let him flounder, “It’s been weird on the grid since then.”

“Okay,” you hum, eyes glancing over his face and catching the way he grimaces.

“Ever since the break-up, all the guys have been looking at me like I’m a child, you know? Like I might fall apart any second. Even though I’m completely fine!”

You stare, knowing more than anyone else, that he wasn’t very fine for a while, although he’d miraculously recovered over the past few months. You also stared in hopes he’d soon get to the point of the conversation.

“They also keep trying to set me up with their friends as if I need a rebound when I would really rather stay single,” Max groans, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. Your furrow your eyebrows, wondering where this could be going.

Max glances up, eyes avoiding yours at all costs, “I was wondering if you could, maybe..”

Max trails off, wincing slightly. You stare straight ahead at him blankly, waiting for him to finish his request. He does eventually mumble something under his breath and you lean forward, eyebrows raised.

“Sorry?”

Max grumbles, annoyed and you roll your eyes at the attitude of the man disrupting your own night.

“Could you pretend to be my girlfriend for a while?” Max rushes out, hands carding through his hair nervously, “Just long enough for the guys to leave me alone, you don’t even have to do anything, maybe just come to Brazil and Monaco-“

Max continues to ramble on for a few seconds, words seeming to fall out of his mouth unceremoniously before he’s cut off by you interrupting him.

“Max!” You raise your voice slightly in an attempt to talk to over him. Max freezes, looking at your face for the first time since he’s crashed through your front door, “I’ll do it.”

He stares at you blankly for a few moments, trying to process your words, “Really?”

You shrug, teeth digging into your lip as you turn your head toward the large window across the room that overlooked the darkened city of Monte Carlo, “Why not? You’re my friend. Plus I work remotely and who doesn’t want to travel around the world to all those different cities?”

Max’s face lights up at your response, his lips forming a huge grin. He rolls over into a lying position, practically star-fishing on your couch, “Thank you so much! I owe you one.”

You hum, fighting the smile on your lips as you watch him close his eyes calmly. You slip up from the couch quietly, padding over to the kitchen to grab something.

“Where are you going? Did I scare you off already?” You hear Max call as you walk away. As you walk back over, his eyes are still closed though, signaling that he didn’t really think he’d scared you off.

He does open his eyes as you set the bowl of leftover pasta and a fork on his chest before grabbing your own and sitting down, grabbing the remote to press play. He glances over as you settle into the couch and move your blanket over your lap before he sits up. You take a bite of your pasta as you continue to watch your show. Max takes a second but he eventually digs in as well, sitting up in order to grasp the bowl better.

Even after the pastas finished, you both sit back on the couch in order to finish the show. You glance over at Max, his eyes still locked onto the screen.

What had you gotten yourself into?

————

“Are you ready?”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you sit in the passengers seat of Max’s car, the hoards outside having no idea what was waiting for them inside. You slide your sunglasses onto your nose, hoping they’d hide at least a little bit of the anxiety flowing through you.

You nod, turning your head toward Max in the drivers seat, “Yeah, I’m good.”

Max hums, not entirely convinced but also aware he had no other option but to believe you considering he’s the one who’d asked you to do this. He opens his door, stepping out and sliding his own sunglasses on. You watch as he walks around the front of the car before stopping in front of your door and pulling it open. You pause for a moment but eventually step out, trying not to wince as the bright sun hits you.

You immediately step into his path, falling into stride next to him as you both walk toward the entrance. You hear the car lock behind you and watch Max pocket the keys.

The bright Miami sun beats down on your skin, causing you to wish you’d opted for a thinner shirt. Max had originally proposed for your first race to be Monaco but you had decided it was better to appear earlier than later for his sake. Plus, you’d always enjoyed Miami and were up for the idea of traveling there. You’d also originally planned to buy your own plane tickets but Max was quick to shut that one down.

As you both approached the turnstiles, Max pulls his lanyard out of his pocket. You don’t even notice as he pulls you inside the paddock, too busy trying not to notice the cameras surrounding you. Flashes come from all around you, the incessant clicks echoing through your head.

You finally do notice that Max hasn’t let go of your hand after he pulled you into the paddock. You grasp his hand a little tighter and he pulls you closer into his side as a response. When heat starts to rise to your face, you decide to blame it on the Miami sun.

As you both walk toward the Red Bull hospitality, heads turn to watch you walk by. You can feel people’s eyes trailing after you, locked on your unfamiliar form. Everything new in the paddock very quickly became a spectacle. Especially when it involved the current world champion.

You’re sure you’ll see pictures of yourself splashed all across the internet when you wake up in Max’s hotel room the next day. You’re sure your mom will send you whatever article they’ll attach your name to, no doubt hounding you for information about your new celebrity “boyfriend”.

You’d been curled up in Max’s hotel room the whole weekend, occasionally dipping out to get food with him between events. He’d wanted you to come to the track since Thursday but you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to step out as “Max Verstappens new girlfriend” until you’d woken up Sunday morning.

You’d woken up before Max, somehow. As you laid in your plush hotel room bed, you could hear Max’s soft breathing from the other bed filtering through the silence of the morning. Just outside the window, the city of Miami was waking up. At least, the early birds were.

You and Max had slept in the same room enough over the years, Max randomly crashing at your place pretty often, that when he suggested you getting a different room, you’d immediately turned him down. You were telling yourself it was just because it was nice to have the comfort of a friend but something deep down knew that that wasn’t the only reason.

You let the only sounds be his breathing and the light hum of the air on unit for a few more minutes while you woke up. You slid out of the bed as silently as possible, your feet padding quietly against the carpeted floor. You pull the door open to the balcony slowly, stepping out before closing it behind you. The sun is still pretty low in the sky but it still makes you flinch as it seeps into your eyes.

You sink into one of the two chairs out on the balcony, pulling your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on top, letting your thoughts run wild.

You watch Miami move below you, the sun slowly shining down brighter and brighter, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.

You weren’t entirely sure why you’d agreed to this idea so quickly. With every day that passed, you wished more and more that you hadn’t. Doubt seeped through you with every second you watched Max from the hotel television. He was just so good at his job and such a cool, wonderful person and athlete. How could you keep up with him? The press would be insistent and non-stop invasive. Fans would, no doubt, dogpile on you as well, both warning to know everything about you as well as rip you apart. You start to wonder if there was a single positive of this for you.

The door slides open behind you and you can hear Max moving onto the balcony beside you. You don’t glance over, only moving your gaze away from the skyline as a mug is held in front of your face. You glance down at it, spotting the coffee inside before you grasp the mug out of his hands gently. The ceramic warms your hands, the steam from the liquid splaying across your face.

“There was only those little creamer pods,” Max hums as he takes a sip of his own mug, leaning against the bannister in front of you, “Hope that’s okay.”

You chew at your lip, taking a sip of your own mug, humming lightly as your gaze locks on his back, “That’s fine, thanks.”

You’d usually take your coffee with milk and a spoonful of sugar but you’d had enough gas station or hotel room coffee that you’d be able to survive with just the creamer pods.

You watch Max’s side profile as he stares out at the city, the sun bouncing off the edges and planes of his face and perfectly lighting up his eyes. You bask in quiet that settles between you, sipping at your coffee periodically. You don’t quickly forget the kindness of his gesture. Actually, the action stays in your head for longer than it probably should, mind running wild as you think about his motives.

You dismiss it, though, not wanting to linger on something that probably meant nothing.

“You coming to the race today?” Max turns around to face you, his back leaning against the rail he’d just been looking out over.

Your eyes trace him as he turns, evaluating his early morning form. As you look at this man, your friend, you think about the coffee in your hands. You think about the times he’d dogsat Apollo despite hating dogs, the days he’d come over just to keep you company when you were homesick, when he’d attempted to cook you soup when you’d been sick despite his complete inability to cook soup, you even think back to the first day you’d met when he’d helped you move in despite having known you for all of thirty seconds.

As all those memories passed through your mind, you suddenly remember why you’d agreed to do this in the first place.

“Yeah, I am,” you reply, taking a long sip of your coffee and hiding your grin as one of his own makes its way onto his lips.

————

That had been earlier that morning and know you were sat in Red Bull, watching as Max’s car passes the finish line in second. You’d been biting your nails the whole time, worry seeping through you. You weren’t the biggest formula 1 nerd but Max had forced you to watch enough old races for you to get what was going on. You’d even started watching his races when he was gone, something that had taken you months to admit.

Because of Max’s insistence, you knew enough to grimace as the safety car came out. You were right to grimace, of course, as Lando was quick to pass your friend, taking the lead and the win. Max, for what it’s worth, didn’t seem too angry about the result. You were aware of Landos lack of wins, seeing why his winning would make everyone happy, even the losers. Not that you were too happy, you’d only ever and only ever would cheer for Max, even if Lando was deserving of a win of his own.

Max doesn’t get asked about you during interviews. At least, not directly. He gets asked how life had been and he answers with a vague answer about love and how great life has been. You know he’s talking out of his ass but you’re grinning anyway, not able to hold back you mind from thinking about a world where everything he was saying was true.

“Landos gonna have a big celebration,” Max starts as he gets back to you after the podium, walking you both back toward his room so he can change, “He’ll probably be awake for the next 72 hours.”

You smile lightly, resting a tired head against his sweaty shoulder, “Good for him, seems like he really deserves it.”

Max nods with a pleasant look on his face, “Yeah, I’m not even that mad about losing. Nothing I could’ve done really. Im just glad he got his win.”

You nod, taking a breath in order to hold back the yawn threatening to leave your mouth, “You should go to his party, I’ll just go grab some dinner and head back to get some sleep.”

You both stop as you reach his room, Max facing you as he leans back against the door to open it. You notice the deep furrow in his eyebrows as he locks eyes with you, “What are you talking about?”

You furrow your own eyebrows as a response, tilting your head to the side, “You should go celebrate with your friend? Go have fun, Max!”

He shakes his head as he enters the room, quickly gathering his things to go take a quick shower, “Why would I celebrate a loss with a coworker when I can get some quality time with a friend instead? I’d rather celebrate a win with you instead of a loss without you. Trust me, you’ll be there to see me win.”

You’re already at a loss for words at his response but your rendered speechless as Max pulls his fireproofs off, tossing the shirt to the side passively. He turns away from you and you watch his muscles ripple under his skin, your face hearing greatly. His arms flex as he reaches for something and you have to bite your lip to keep your mouth closed. Your eyes are wide as he turns to glance over his shoulder at you, “That okay?”

At the risk of sounding like an idiot if you attempt to respond with words, you simply nod, eyes moving toward the floor. You don’t notice the smirk that forms on his lips as he catches your stare.

“I’m gonna shower and then we can leave,” he calls out over his shoulder as he walks into his bathroom. Your eyes are still locked onto the floor. You hear the sound of water pattering against the floor just after the door shuts.

You take a large sip of your water bottle, trying to wet your drying throat and keep the heat in your face at bay. You feel like you might be going crazy, the image of Max’s shirtless back etched into your mind.

Jesus Christ.

————

“What do you wanna watch?” Max mumbles through a mouth full of pizza, his hand coming up to covering it as he speaks.

You shrug, “I don’t know.”

Max shrugs as well, grabbing the remote off the nightstand and passively flickering through the channels as he swallows his bite of pizza, “Come get some food.”

He gestures toward the box of pizza on the edge of his bed with the remote, glancing toward you sitting in your own bed, watching him instead of the tv. You slide off the bed, taking the few steps it takes to get to his own and gently settling on the side he wasn’t currently sitting on.

Max watches you move, humming as you grasp a piece from the pizza box before he turns his attention back to the screen. You don’t notice as he settles on a movie, too busy trying not to absolutely scarf down the food in your hand.

Your eyes do leave the slice to glance over at Max, legs outstretched with his back firmly against the headboard. He’s wearing a Red Bull hoodie, even managing to wear team merch in his own bedroom. He’s also got some old basketball shorts, a faded logo sitting on the upper thigh that, no matter how much you try, you can’t understand.

You look away when you hear the familiar sound of Lightning McQueen echoing out of the television speakers. You quickly catch sight of the Italian formula car, deducing that Max has chosen Cars 2, of all movies.

You try your best not to laugh but a giggle escapes you anyway, causing you to bury your head in your shoulder to try and hide your grin.

“What?” Max asks you and you look forward again, eyes locked onto the movie, “What’s so funny?”

Your head turns toward the driver who’s grin is now matching your own, “You chose probably the only movie on here that uses the words “Grand Prix” can’t even get away from racing in your hotel room.”

He feigns offense for a few moments before reaching forward to grab another piece of pizza and sliding down into more of a lying position, “It’s a good movie.”

You both turn to the screen for a few moments but the second Lewis Hamilton’s voice rings out in the silence, you laugh loudly, Max groaning beside you.

You quickly dissolve into giggles, trying your hardest to reign it in but when you look over and see the amused frown on Max’s face, you’re right back into it again, Max laughing in response.

You both do eventually settle down, watching the movie and eating your food together. Even after the pizza box is empty and max moves to set it on the table, you don’t move from your spot, using the reasoning that it’s just easier to see the screen from his bed.

You try not to notice the proximity between you. You’d been holding hands all day and you’d pressed several kisses to his cheeks and forehead, being near him shouldn’t bother you. But when you shift slightly closer just to get more comfortable and Max’s arm falls down over your shoulder, you freeze, keeping as still as you can.

He doesn’t move his arm through the rest of the movie. Not that you’d know, considering you drift off with about half an hour to go. But Max doesn’t notice that either, considering how he fell asleep just after.

You wake up before him again the next morning, don’t the same thing you’d done the day before and walking out to the balcony. Max does the same thing he did as well, walking out with two mugs grasped gently in his grip.

When you take the mug from him, you try not to think about the fact you’d woken up limbs tangled with his and your face pressed into his chest.

————

The São Paulo Grand Prix.

It had been 6 months of this charade with Max. That’s right, you’d managed to suffer through 6 whole months of pretending to be his girlfriend. There’s been countless headlines from various news sites, trying their best to figure out every single detail about your life and relationship with Max.

The only thing keeping your mind together was the root of the problem himself and your prolonged roommate, Max.

He was actually really lovely. Every time you suggested a different room for his sake, you’d end up right where you were the week before, in a bed across from his. You’d also kept the same morning routine every day, waking up before Max and sitting out on the balcony until he brought coffee out for both of you.

He’d eventually gotten to a point where he sat in the chair next to you as opposed to standing up and leaning against the railing. There was still little conversation, though, you both enjoying the silence of an early morning instead.

This specific morning, you were watching the city of São Paulo move along below you. Goosebumps raised slightly as the wind-chilled November air nipped at the skin on your arms. The sun hadn’t completely rose yet and the previous nights rain had left the air colder than it should’ve been. You found yourself rubbing your hands over your arms and wishing you’d worn something other than a t-shirt.

The door slides open behind you and you take the mug as it’s placed in your eye line, grateful for the heat of the mug to warm up your cold hands. You lower your face toward the mug, letting the steam warm up your wind-chilled skin. You go to take a sip but it burns at your lips when you tilt the mug, causing you to set it down on the small table in order for it to cool for a few moments.

After you set it down, something lands in your lap. You look down, holding the item up and quickly recognizing it as one of Max’s Red Bull hoodies. You glance over at him but he’s still looking out over the city below, sipping passively at his mug of black coffee.

You look back down at the item of clothing, glancing between it and the owner for a few seconds before deciding to slip it on, your cold skin winning out over any reasonable thought that would tell you not to wear it.

The hoodies too big for you and it smells like Max but you don’t really seem to mind either of those things. Especially as your skin heats as the fabric passes over it.

Once you’ve got the hoodie on, you pick up your coffee again, blowing on it slightly to cool it down. You raise the cup to your lips, letting the warm liquid flow into your mouth.

You hum at the taste, quickly noticing that it tastes different than usual. You furrow your eyebrows, taking another sip. The oh-so wonderful taste that you’d missed so dearly over the past 6 months takes over your tastebuds. The taste of real milk and sugar.

You hum pleasantly, grasping the cup tightly. You glance over toward the man who’d handed you the drink, “Is this milk and sugar?”

Max glances toward you for a split-second before he looks back over the city, taking a sip of his own coffee, “Yeah, that’s how you like it, right? You always drink it like that back home.”

You ignore the jolt in your stomach when Max refers to the Monaco apartments as a shared home. You bite your lip with an affirmative hum, “Where’d you get milk and sugar?”

“Couldn’t sleep last night, went for a walk. There’s a corner store down the block and I picked some up,” Max says it casually, like it’s not the most considerate anyone had been of you, maybe ever.

You stare at him for a few moments, trying to ignore the warm feeling in your chest as you imagine him thinking about you enough to buy coffee ingredients the way you liked them.

As you sat outside, in his hoodie, sipping on the coffee he had made and handed to you, you finally accept what you’d been trying to deny for six months, if not longer.

You were in love with Max Verstappen.

You longed for the domesticity that was so present on mornings like these. You wanted to live this life with him all the time. You didn’t just want to fall asleep beside him after a race but you wanted to be able to press your lips against his when he won instead of the light touches you’d flutter against his cheek. You wanted to wear his hoodies all the time, not just when you were cold and forgot one of your own. You wanted to stop pretending in front of his friends. You wanted the hushed whispers to be sweet nothings instead of scheming and planning.

You wanted this life with him. All the time.

“Max-” you start but you’re quickly cut off by Max as he speaks instead.

“My ex is going to be at this race,” he states and you close your mouth, deflating slightly as you look away, “Just wanted to prepare you in case we run into her. You could also, um, probably stop coming once you scare her off.”

You nod meekly, taking a sip of your coffee. What had once been your idea of a sanctuary with the silence of the morning is now too quiet, allowing your thoughts to be the only noise in your head, images of Max’s ex rolling around aimlessly.

You stand up quickly, taking rushed steps back into the room. You down the last sips of your coffee and slide it onto the table, moving hurriedly around the room to gather your things for a shower. You vaguely notice Max walking back into the room with a confused look but you don’t even look up as you rush into the bathroom, “I’m taking a shower.”

“Okay?” Max says as you close the door behind you. You don’t notice the frown on his face as he disappears from view.

You’re too busy throwing off his hoodie and turning the shower to practically scalding heat, trying your hardest to rid yourself of thoughts about a life with Max, thoughts of his ex-girlfriend or thoughts about the stupid coffee he’d handed you and how stupid you were to be reading so much into it.

For a moment there, you’d thought that Max was enjoying this as much as you were. But his words were quick to remind you that you were only there to do a favour for him. He is only there to get his friends and his ex off his back. After that, you were free to go. It even vaguely sounded like Max didn’t want you to come back around the next weekend.

Why else would he have said that? Why else would he have suggested you stop coming? Especially just after talking about his ex. It was a stark reminder that you were only a tool for him to mess with his ex. She was the one he’d loved, you were just a girl he knew.

You stay under the scalding water long enough for the mirrors to fog and your fingertips to prune. Your cuticles sting from where the hot water had made its way into the raw skin, the cuts still fresh from where you’d been anxiously picking at them.

You only pull yourself from the water when you start to sway from the heat, your head going light and an ache echoing through your skull.

————

A few hours later, you’re by Max’s side again, although there’s a slightly larger distance between you than usual.

That would change soon, no doubt, when Max spotted his ex, pulling you close to attempt to show his devotion to your fake relationship.

But for now, you're an arms-length away, hoping that pushing him away would also push away your own feelings.

Max can't grasp even an idea as to why you were acting like this. Did you really want this to be over that badly? He knew he'd mentioned the idea of your… situation ending but he didn't think you'd be this eager to get away from him.

At the first camera flash, you take a step closer to Max, knowing how even the smallest hint of discontent between you would be twisted for headlines and it would end with your concerned mother calling you fifty times to check on your relationship after seeing an article on Facebook.

So you step closer, reaching over to intertwine your hands. Max doesn't resist and you try not to read into the gentle squeeze he replies with.

Brazils nice. Or at least, you assume. You'd been too distracted to take much notice. But you do notice the fans yelling from all around. Lively crowds sway and shout in the distance, hues of blue and black and orange all represented amongst the groups.

Max leads you through the paddock, determination clear in his steps. It was most likely just his own determination not to talk to anyone, especially a certain ex-girlfriend.

You both get to Red Bull without an unwanted interaction and the second you're out of the public eye, you're dropping his hand, none the wiser to the confused look on the driver's face.

The tension's palpable in his small room. Awkward conversation flows, your words biting and curt. Neither of you wants to address the obvious undertones your words contain. One of hostility and unshared secrets. But you manage to survive until Max has to leave to get ready for the race and you follow just a few minutes later, making your way to watch said race.

The race is fine. Max wins, but you were never in doubt about that. He was starting from pole, it'd be pretty hard for him to lose. Lando finished just a few seconds behind him, having closed the gap a bit after getting past George.

As the team starts to leave to go greet Max, Christian Horner pulls you along, saying something about Max wanting you at the barrier after the race. You're sure its just so he can put on a show for his ex.

But you follow along anyway, trying not to stumble in your heels as Christian walks along a lot faster than you'd want to.

You pass through other teams and friends and guests or the drivers, waving slightly at people you’d gotten to know over the past six months. The thought of not seeing any of these people again after you and Max faked a breakup made your stomach hurt but you ignore it, trying to tell yourself it was for the better.

When Christian reaches the team, he guides you both through the crowd, smiling politely at the engineers as he slides by.

It seems you both reach the barrier just in time, as Max is parking when you come to a stop. You watch as he pulls himself out of the car, cheering a bit to the fans around as he stands atop it. When he pulls off his helmet and balaclava, you try your hardest not to smile at the pure joy on his face.

He glances over his shoulder at something you can't see before he turns and catches your eye, quickly moving in your direction. Before you can even say a word, he's set his helmet down and wrapped both his hands around the sides of your face, pulling it toward his own. His lips are warm, the heat of the race still emanating off of him. You dismiss the sweat in his hair as you wrap a hand softly around the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his locks. Your other hand rests on the side of his face, your thumb tracing the marks his helmet had left around his eyes.

You pull away first, glancing up into his eyes with a gentle smile, “Good job, you did amazing Max.”

His face heats and he glances away with a light chuckle, “Thank you, baby. I'm glad you're here.”

You wish he'd stop calling you that. At least for the sake of your heart jumping in your chest every time he does.

He looks away but your eyes are still firmly locked on the side of his face, tracing the familiar path around his features that they'd forged over the past six months. The same path they took every morning when you watched him look out over whatever city you were in that weekend. The same path they took when he fell asleep first during a movie in hopes of memorizing every detail before you slunk back into your own bed to fall asleep, the image of his face still etched into your mind.

But as you stare up at Max, trying to memorize the puzzle pieces of his face while he talks to Christian, you realize how futile of an endeavour it is. Not matter how hard you try, you'll never get the slope of his nose just right in your memories. You'll never get the right shade of turquoise for his eyes. The sandy-dark-blond of his hair will fade away until it was nothing in your mind but the shade of your coffee in the morning instead of the colour of his hair.

Maybe you should find a different apartment. Surely, Monaco had a different apartment complex that was far enough away from Max to rid yourself of the incessant thoughts of him that constantly plagued your love-adled brain.

Throughout all of that, you’d almost forgotten you were in love with him.

But when Max turns back to you, a glint in his eyes and a bright smile gracing his lips, you're suddenly all too aware of that fact.

“I’ll see you in a minute, yeah?”

You nod, smile slowly drifting as he walks away to get weighed and do all the usual post-race theatrics.

Christian pats his hand on your shoulder firmly, smiling as you turn around, “Let’s get to the podium, kid.”

You let Christian lead you away, yet again making his way through the crowd to get you both to the front.

The podium celebration is cute, Max’s happiness practically contagious. Lando and George are enthralled as well, the Brits both happy to back on the podium once again.

But when Max leans over to spray the champagne on the team, you put your hands over your face as Christian laughs beside you, both of you trying to avoid the sticky liquid as much as possible.

You peel away from the crowd after Max walks off, trying to find your way to wherever Max had gone.

As you'd left, you'd wandered away from Christian, who knew the paddock much better than you did. This was your first time here and you found yourself looking around for any sign of the Red Bull driver or, at least, a familiar face who could point you in the right direction.

It takes you a few minutes to gain your bearings but when you hear the familiar sound of Max’s voice, you go that direction, turning a corner to see his face.

And you do see him, post-race glow and all. But it's not just him you find. Standing entirely too close to him with her hand resting on his shoulder, is Max’s ex-girlfriend. She's smiling warmly, nodding animatedly at whatever it is Max is saying. Which, from constantly talking to him, you know is not worth the reaction she's giving him.

He's glancing around, clearly not comfortable with the situation. You huff, looking around before conceding and walking over to the pair. Were you maybe taking your time a little bit? Yeah, but you really didn't want to do this.

You roll your eyes when you catch Max’s eye and a relieved look rolls over his face, “Hey, baby.”

Max uses your arrival as an excuse to take a step back, swinging his arm around your shoulder. He's still covered in champagne and sweat but you ignore it, “Hey, Max.”

You finally glance up to meet the eye of the woman in front of you, her eyes narrowed as she looks between you, “Oh my god, hi! You must be Max’s ex!”

She rolls her eyes before smiling tightly with a nod of her head, “Yeah, I am. You must be his new girlfriend.”

You hum affirmatively, smiling wide as you glance over to the man beside you, “I am, yeah. He's just so perfect. We’re so happy together!”

She narrows her eyes again, glancing you up and down before her eyes stop on your face. You roll your head to the side to rest your temple on his shoulder, resting one of your hands against his chest.

“Well, I’m happy you moved on, Max,” She says, turning her entire attention to the man in question, “You seem… perfect together.”

Max gleams, nodding as he leans in to kiss your cheek, “Yeah, I’m really happy.”

His ex chews on her bottom lip for a few moments before huffing and moving away, turning to shout over her shoulder as she walks away, “Have a great life, Max!”

“Thanks, I guess!” Max replies, laughing as soon as the woman is out of earshot. He pulls away from your side, turning to fully face you.

“Thank you!” Max cheers, grasping your shoulders with his hands, “Did you see her face? She was so pissed that I'd moved on.”

You hum, letting him be happy by himself while you stood quietly, “Yeah, you're welcome.”

You peel away from Max, turning to go back to the car park so you can leave. You don't say anything to Max before you walk away, leaving him to jog to catch up to you.

“You okay?” He asks once he's by your side again. You glance over, catching the concerned look on his face.

“Yeah,” you nod curtly, looking back ahead, “Yeah, I'm fine.”

He doesn't seem convinced but he leaves it be, turning away as well.

He pretends not to notice when you coincidentally step away after he tries to grab your hand.

While Max debriefs, you text one of your friends to ask if you could stay with her for a few days when you got back to Monaco. After this fake relationship was over, you needed to get away from Max for a while just to try and push away the growing feelings you have for the Dutch man.

And with the departure of Max’s ex, you'd served your purpose and you could finally get out of Max’s life and give him the solitude he so longed for.

The ride back to the hotel is quiet, the only noise being the sound of your nails tapping against the screen of your phone. Max glances over periodically but you eventually set your phone down, choosing to stare out the window as the dark streets of Brazil pass by quickly.

When you get back to the hotel, you open the car door before Max can get it for you like he usually does. He sends you another glance, trailing passively behind as you walk in front of him. You both pass through the lobby and the elevator, your steps determined and much quicker than Max really wanted to be walking.

He's still riding the high of his win and the defeat of his ex-girlfriend but you're in your own mind, too sick to your stomach to be happy for him.

You pull out the spare room key when you arrive at the room, pressing it against the sensor before shoving the door open roughly, letting it fall against Max behind you who catches it.

You toss the key on the table by the door and set your phone down beside it. You still don't turn around as you throw the jacket he had let you borrow down on his bed.

"What is your problem?" You hear Max’s voice ring out in the otherwise quiet room. Annoyance paints his words, causing you to pause for a split-second.

"I don't have a problem." You say, cringing when you catch how much of a lie it sounds. You move on, though, pulling your suitcase out from under the bed and unzipping it.

Max scoffs, raising a disbelieving eyebrow, "Are you sure? Because it really feels like you do."

"It's nothing, Max." You reply sharply, walking into the attached bathroom, grateful to get away from his gaze for a second.

You come back out, your toiletry bag in hand. You set it down in your suitcase and stand up, walking over to the closet and pulling your clothes off the rack. The sound of the hangers hitting together echoes through your head, only contributing to the headache that had been growing since your revelation that morning.

Max finally catches onto what you're doing and speaks, his voice almost panicked, "What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

"What, already? Why?" You try not to be swayed by the hurt in his voice, turning around and walking past him to set your clothes down in your case.

He follows you over, stepping closer as you stand up. You try and step past him but he puts his arm out, stopping you in your tracks. You concede with a sigh, finally looking him in his eyes.

"It doesn't matter, Max.”

"But it does! What's wrong?" You finally step past him, on your way to go gather the rest of your things but his question makes you turn your head as you walk away.

"Max! It doesn't matter!" You immediately regret how loud your voice is but this wasn't exactly the time to be thinking about the people next door.

Max shakes his head, following you as you walk toward the doot in order to grab your shoes, "No, no, no. You've been like this all day and I can't think of a reason why. Do you really want to get away from me that badly?"

Your face twists, causing you to shake your head as you walk away, praying he wont follow you this time, "No, Max, that's not-"

He doesn't completely follow you but he does step a bit closer, shaking his head with a loud groan, "Then enlighten me! What could possibly happened in the past day that's making you act like this? Why are you leaving? Why won't you tell me? I thought we were supposed to be in this together! Why are you-"

"Because I'm in love with you, Max!" You shout, finally turning to face him as you say it, making eye contact with him for the first time since you'd walked in.

Silence falls between you and you toss your shoes down, covering your face with one of your hands. For a second, you think that Max might never respond, your stomach turning at the thought.

How hard could it be to find a different apartment in Monaco?

"What?" Max’s voice is soft and you look back to him, trying to will your frustrated tears not to fall.

"I'm in love with you! I fell in love with you and I know you don't feel the same. You only wanted me to do this to placate your friends and scare away your ex and now im getting out of your hair. I'm leaving you alone like you wanted in the first place,” Tears finally drip down your face and you don't bother to wipe them away, knowing there was only more where they came from. You look away as you explain, eyes locked onto the carpet beneath you, not wanting to face your embarrassment head-on.

"What are you talking about?" At Max’s purely confused tone, you look back to his face, teeth digging sharply into your bottom lip.

His face is soft, confusion etched into the furrow between his brows. Your stomach flips and you swallow, trying to rebuild the confidence you’d had at the start of your outburst.

The hotel room suddenly feels too cold, the air causing you to rub your hands over your shoulders in order to suppress the goosebumps that had started to rise. When you do speak again, your voice is soft, volume just above a whisper.

"This morning. You said I could stop coming after this race. And I did my job, I scared away your ex. You don't need me,” you trail off at the end of your statement, your voice breaking slightly as you shake your head, tears streaming out of your closed eyes and down your cheeks.

You expect Max to agree, to send you away, to end your friendship out of pure embarrassment after your decleration.

But he doesn't.

His voice is soft, just as yours was. His words are hushed but the emotion behind them seeps through every single word.

"I do, though. I do need you."

You look up, eyes widening at his statement. You can do nothing but stare as he steps closer, his hands grasping the sides of your face. Your own hands reach up to hold his wrists, just wanting to hold him someway.

He raises an eyebrow gently, quirking his head to ask for silent permission. You nod and its only a split-second before he's leaning down, pressing his lips against yours.

His hands cradle the back of your head, pulling you impossibly closer. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest, his kiss causing your brain to practically melt. You mold together, leaning as close to him as you can as your hold conveys months and months of pent-up and hidden emotions.

As he pulls away, your lips want to chase his but you hold back, your eyes flickering open as he leans his forehead against yours. Neither of your speak for a few moments, silence settling between the two of you ask you bask in the adoration between you.

Max’s hand drifts back to your jaw, his thumb drifting across your cheekbone passively. You see his eyes look up and you glance up as well, catching his sparkling gaze in yours.

“I love you,” the words tumble out of his mouth, falling smoothly out of the lips you oh-so wished he would press against your own once again, “I'm in love with you. I fell for you during this whole thing, everything about you.”

You go to respond but he cuts you off, shaking his head lightly.

“I only told you that you could stop coming because I thought you'd grown tired of all this,” he takes a deep breath before continuing, leaning slightly into your hand that had drifted into his hair, “But I'm kind of glad I did.”

You furrow your eyebrows, quirking your head. Max pauses, allowing you the chance to admire every feature of his face, turning his freckles into constellations that you'd willingly stargaze in for hours. His hair is tousled from where your fingers had tangled in it and his lips are red from being pressed against yours. His teeth dig into said lip as he thinks before responding. You'd honestly be fine if he never finished his thought and you got to just look at him forever.

But he does finish his thought, the look in his eyes making your heart jump, "Because I don't want to pretend anymore."

You wait a moment, giving him the chance to take it back in case this was a joke, in case he didn't really mean it. But he doesn't take it back, he doesn't laugh.

And so you nod, "I want to do this with you for real, Max. I don't want to lie to anyone anymore, I want to celebrate with you after a race, not because people expect me to, but because I love you."

Max lights up, his face splitting into a wide grin at your words. Before you can react, his arms are around you and your feet are lifted off the ground as Max basically throws you onto the bed beside you.

Your laugh echoes through the hotel room, punctuated by the sound of Max flopping down next to you. You continue to giggle, glancing down to meet Max’s eyes, a special glint shining through.

You calm down after a few seconds as Max continures to gaze at you. When silence finally comes over you, Max leans up to rest on his elbows as you sit up slightly to look down at him.

“I love you too, by the way,” He says softly, “Dont know if you noticed.”

You hum, biting your lip to hold back your laugh, “I assumed so, yeah.”

You laugh as Max huffs, reaching a hand up to pull you down beside him, “Shut up.”

And you do, going quiet as your lips meet his. Later that night, as your both lying in bed, together this time, you fall asleep with your head against his chest, basking in the long-lastint but newly-confessed love between you.

The next morning, you wake up before Max, as you'd done so often. You slip out of his hold and pad over softly to the balcony, sliding on one of his hoodies before you open the sliding door.

You sink into one of the two chairs, looking out over the city of Sao Paulo as it slowly wakes up. The sun peeks out over the horizon, adding light to the previously dark morning.

Eventually, the door slides open behind you and you don’t even have to look to know it’s Max. But you look anyway, happy to take any chance to observe the man.

You take the mug from his offering hand, grasping the warm ceramic tightly. Max doesn’t walk over to the railing, instead moving toward the chair next to you. Before he sits down, he slides it over, pushing it as close to your chair as it could go. He sits down and you twist to sit sideways, leaning your legs over the arm of the chair. Max gently pulls your ankles over his chair to rest in his lap before he takes a long sip of his coffee.

You take a long sip of your own mug as well, letting the taste of the coffee coat your throat and warm your heart.

Milk and sugar, just the way you like it.

——————

Tags: @evie-119 @casperlikej

[gojoux]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 “𝐋𝐄𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓” 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌

Gojo. Geto. Sukuna. Nanami. Choso. Toji. Megumi. Itadori. Yuta.

◈ — 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

“Say no more.” He'd grab your face in an instant and press his lips against yours. He would immediately get touchy all over your body, and for not even a few seconds, he's already slipping his tongue in, savoring your taste with hunger. He'd pull away for a moment before devouring your lips with his own, your mouth would be invaded by his tongue once more before pressing you against the nearby wall.

◈ — 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

“You want to make out? Alright, love. Let's go somewhere private, we can make out there as much as you want.” He'd place his hands on your wrist and lead you toward the bedroom. His lips would immediately find yours, soft but deep kisses at first before it gets heated. He doesn't mind if you want to be on the top or him on the top. Rest assured, he's not giving your lips a break either way. “Now I know what you need to do to convince me.”

◈ — 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

His body would shiver with excitement as he looks down at you with a hungry look. “Come here,” he reaches for you and grabs your body, “You want to make out, do you now? My, my, are you in the mood for me.” He tilts your head with his finger and starts trailing kisses on your neck, nibbling your skin with his teeth, licking and sucking, and doing whatever he wants until he makes sure it leaves a lot of his marks. His mind is filled with dirty thoughts, “I hope you know what you're getting yourself into.”

◈ — 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

“Right here? Right now?” Nanami's eyebrows would elevate at this request. “I should have expected it from you.” He sighs and loosens his tie before leaning back on his chair saying, “I can spare some time for you, love,” as he pats his lap, gesturing you to sit with him. “Let's make it a good one.” He'll place a hand on your cheek and the other on your waist as he kisses you slowly, with no rush, he likes to take his time savoring your lips.

◈ — 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎

He would look at you confused, “What's that?” He had no clue what making out is and he's not familiar with the term. Once you explain it to him, he'll nod and hold your waist, initiating the kiss first. “Like this?” He'll kiss you more. “I think I can get used to this.” His kisses slowly become deeper, letting out a few hums of satisfaction here and then. His touches would become bolder as well once you give him the cue. He's never done something like this but he seems to enjoy it with you.

◈ — 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

He'd raise a brow after hearing your request out of nowhere. “So you want to make out, huh? Are you feeling needy?” He'll tease you for it. “Now come here, I'll show you just how good I can be with my lips," he'd speak to you in a seductive tone while looking at you with a sly smile on his face. He'll kiss you all over your face until it's damp from both of your wet lips after the kiss while his hands eagerly caressing and groping your body. He won't stop even until you're breathless.

◈ — 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

He'd turn a bit red at your sudden question. He is a little surprised with your forwardness but he's not against it. “What did you say? Do you want to make out with me?” He doesn't mind if you kiss him. In fact, he'd like it if you did because he's been wanting to do that with you for some time already. Megumi starts off shy with a few pecks, focusing on your lips and what gesture you like. It's surprisingly hard for him to stop kissing you once he's warmed up.

◈ — 𝐈𝐓��𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈

“Eh? With me?” He points at himself. You'd smack his arm which makes him let out a short playful laugh, “Okay, okay, let's do it.” He'd kiss you eagerly, he really wanted to experience kissing someone ever since he was single, and now that got the chance to make out with you is more than a dream come true. He'll circle an arm over your shoulder and the other around your waist, pressing your body closer to him as he focuses on kissing you.

◈ — 𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀

His face would turn red and his cheeks would be flushed. He'd look at you with surprised eyes and then he'd nod slowly. “O-of course, let's make out.” He'd say your name in such a soft way, the most romantic tone he's ever spoken to you with. After a few seconds of looking deeply into your eyes, he would lean closer and test the water with a few soft pecks before the kiss got deeper. He doesn't really know where to place his hand so he just holds your waist as he pulls you closer.

[readsaboutreid]

Cast Your Bets | S.R.

summary: (Y/N) has been at the BAU for two months now and the tension between her and Spencer has been noticeable to everyone but them. The team takes bets on when they'll finally snap but (Y/N) and Spencer over hear them and some smutty shenanigans ensue.

This is smut so it's 18+, minors please dni.

spencer x bau!reader

contains: unprotected sex, creampie, masturbation (m), fingering (f receiving), non-established relationship

this has been sitting in my drafts for few months so i figured i'd finally let it see the light of day

The team were all sat on the jet after a long case, everyone off in their own little worlds. Morgan had his headphones on and had nodded off, JJ and Prentiss were playing cards, and Hotchner and Rossi were talking about the case they had just finished in hushed tones. Spencer had run out of reading material so he was just kind of sitting and staring off into space. His eyes fell to (Y/N), her brows furrowed in concentration as she read what looked to be a well-worn book, and he couldn't help the way his heart fluttered in his chest.

Ever since she had started at the BAU, Spencer had been hopelessly infatuated with her. She was intelligent, sweet, and most surprisingly she seemed to enjoy when Spencer would go off rambling about something that would usually leave Morgan rolling his eyes or Prentiss poking him and asking, "how did they make you so lifelike?" But when he was talking with (Y/N) and he would start off on a subject, she would just tilt her head and listen with a soft smile, occasionally chiming in with a question or comment, making it more than clear she was listening to every word.

She locked eyes with him and flashed him the sweetest smile and he felt his cheeks burn with a sudden heat. "Something interesting, Reid?" She chuckled, closing the book she had been reading and setting it on her lap as she turned to face him.

"I—I was just trying to see what you're reading," he lied, unconvincingly. He swallowed nervously and a small smile twitched at his lips at seeing her smile grow even wider before he looked down at his hands resting in his lap.

She held the book up for him to see the cover. Dune.

"Dune? That's one of my favorites!" He exclaimed with a wide smile.

"When I was a little girl this was one of my favorites. My dad would read it to me before bedtime," she explained before opening it back up to begin reading again. "I read it once a year the month of his birthday."

Spencer felt a sudden, inexplicable surge of confidence and decided to take advantage of it. "Hey, uh, I finished the only book I had brought with me earlier, do you mind if I read along with you, maybe? I could just read over your shoulder or something." He bit his lip as he waited for her to shoot him down, the confidence he felt already fading away rapidly.

"Oh! I, uh, o-okay," she responded while her eyes widened a little bit in response to the request. She moved closer to him on the bench they were both seated on. He adjusted the way he was sitting so that she could lean up against him and he found himself silently hoping she couldn't hear how fast and hard his heart was beating against his chest. She opened the book, holding it up high enough for Spencer to be able to read as well and they began reading. Spencer stole the occasional glance at her, the butterflies in his stomach flying around more frantically each time he did so.

His body was in overdrive and he did everything in his power to maintain his composure. He could smell the scent of eucalyptus and lavender on her hair as she leaned up against him and he started thinking about how nice it would be to be able to run his fingers through it while her lips were wrapped around his—

Spencer shook his head, dispelling the thoughts before they had a chance to take root. He cleared his throat and crossed his legs to cover up the fact that he was becoming rather noticeably hard. (Y/N) shifted a bit, leaning further into Spencer's chest and resting her head there gently. His breath hitched in his throat before he relaxed into her, resting his arm around her shoulders and his cheek against the top of her head.

They continued reading until Spencer noticed that she hadn't turned the page in quite a while. When he looked down at her he noticed that she was sleeping quite soundly against him. He tried his best to maneuver without waking her, placing her bookmark in between the pages and closing the book. There was no way Spencer himself would be able to get any sleep right now, but Spencer tried to relax enough to at least be a comfortable human pillow. Wrapping his other arm around her, he eventually found himself getting lost in the scent of her shampoo yet again as his eyes grew heavy.

Next thing he knew, he was waking up to Morgan lightly shaking his shoulder. "Come on lover boy! It's time to wake up. We're about to land," he said in a voice loud enough to also rouse the still-sleeping (Y/N).

She shot up suddenly, her face turning a deep shade of crimson as she stammered out a flustered apology and swiftly rushed off to the bathroom, leaving Spencer to glare daggers at Derek from his seat on the now otherwise empty bench.

Later that night, Spencer found himself at home, sprawled on the couch with the familiar blue glow of the television screen illuminating the room. The soft hum of the TARDIS filled the air as he half-heartedly tried to focus on the episode of Doctor Who playing before him. But try as he might, his mind kept drifting back to (Y/N).

Her scent still lingered on his clothes, a sweet and intoxicating blend that teased his senses. Images of her leaning against him, of her hair brushing against his skin, invaded his thoughts. His body reacted to these memories, stirring with a desire that he couldn't ignore.

As the scene on the TV faded into the background, Spencer's hand began to stray lower, fingers tracing the outline of his growing arousal through his pants. He closed his eyes, letting himself fully indulge in the fantasy of (Y/N) that had taken hold of his mind.

Her soft lips against his skin, his hands exploring her body with a gentle curiosity...

Spencer reached his hand into his pajama pants, pulling out his throbbing member and wrapping his fingers around himself, slowly beginning to stroke up and down. His breathing grew shallow as his hand moved more purposefully, seeking release from the building tension within him. Lost in a haze of desire and yearning, Spencer's thoughts were consumed by the memory of her touch, her scent, her warmth as she leaned up against him. With a quiet gasp, he abandoned himself to the fantasy, his movements growing urgent as he chased the climax that beckoned to him.

The fantasies of (Y/N) moaning and writhing beneath him in pleasure became more vivid, more alluring, fueling the fire that consumed him. Every fleeting touch, every whispered word in his mind pushed him closer to the edge until finally, with a shuddering breath and a silent cry of her name on his lips, Spencer found release in the solitude of his living room. The waves of pleasure washed over him, leaving him spent and breathless, his heart pounding in his chest.

As reality slowly seeped back in, Spencer lay there in the dim glow of the TV screen, a flush of both satisfaction and guilt coloring his cheeks. He wondered how he would ever be able to look (Y/N) in the eye again, but at the same time he couldn't help but long to see her still.

With a deep sigh, Spencer finally shut off the TV, cleaned himself up, and headed to bed, his mind filled with a mixture of longing and remorse.

The atmosphere in the bullpen was buzzing with it's usual energy. Spencer and (Y/N) were hunched over their desks, papers scattered everywhere as they focused intently on their work.

Meanwhile, across the room, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, and JJ were observing the pair with playful banter and knowing looks. Their whispers floated through the air like mischievous spirits.

"Hey, JJ, how long do you think it'll be until these two finally give in to their sexual tension?" Derek asked with a cocky smirk.

JJ shrugged. "I'll give it two weeks."

Derek scoffed in response and said, "I say a week tops."

Penelope interjected, "oh please! I give it three days."

"You're all ridiculous" Emily shook her head and laughed, "I bet it'll take 24 hours, tops."

Spencer could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as he overheard the playful bets being made about him and (Y/N). His heart raced at the mere thought of what could transpire between them, a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling within him like a storm.

As they both reached for the same file folder, their fingers brushed against each other's in a fleeting moment that sent a jolt of electricity through Spencer. His hand trembled slightly at the contact, his skin tingling with a sensation he couldn't quite describe. But he couldn't deny the rush of warmth that flooded his veins at the simple touch.

(Y/N) quickly withdrew her hand, her eyes widening in surprise as she glanced up at Spencer. Her cheeks were painted with a delicate pink blush that mirrored Spencer's own, a silent acknowledgment passing between them in that moment.

Emily raised an eyebrow as they all observed the exchange between Spencer and (Y/N). "I told you all—24 hours, no more, no less.”

Agent Hotchner's lowered voice came from behind the group, startling everyone at the table. "Less than 12 hours," he stated calmly, his eyes piercing as they turned towards Spencer and (Y/N). The sudden silence that followed his words was almost palpable, the tension thick in the air as his prediction hung over them like a heavy cloud.

As the others in the room exchanged surprised glances, Derek let out a low whistle. "Hotch, you sure about that?" he asked, a smile playing on his lips.

Hotch simply nodded, his expression unreadable as he turned away and walked out of the bullpen, leaving the rest of the table floored as they looked back at Spencer and (Y/N).

The gentle hum of the bullpen around them seemed to fade away as Spencer found himself lost in a daydream, imagining a world where he and (Y/N) were more than just colleagues. His heart quickened at the thought of what could be, but just as quickly, the shadow of doubt crept in.

What if she didn't feel the same way? What if their friendship was forever altered by a moment of vulnerability and desire? Spencer's mind swirled with conflicting emotions—longing mingled with fear, desire intertwined with doubt.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't notice (Y/N) shooting him a quick smile before returning to her work. The warmth of that smile lingered in the air around Spencer, filling him with a sense of hope and a tinge of uncertainty. Was it just a friendly gesture, or did it hold a deeper meaning that he desperately wanted to believe in?

As the day drew to a close and everyone began packing up, Spencer finally spoke up. "Hey, (Y/N)," Spencer nervously fiddled with the strap of his bag, "would, uh, w-would you want to come over and watch Star Trek tonight? We could get some takeout, you know, like we always do the weekend after a case?" She looked up at him with a warm smile that made the butterflies in his stomach flare up and nodded happily.

As they walked out of the office together, Spencer couldn't help the sweat that began coating his palms in a thin layer. He gripped the leather strap of his bag and fiddled with it to give his hands something to do. The elevator took them down to the parking garage and they approached her car. Spencer rushed to open the driver's side door for her, drawing a soft, melodious giggle from her lips that made him go weak at the knees.

He made his way to the passenger side and slipped into the seat, buckling the seatbelt and swallowing the lump in his throat. She pulled out of the parking space and they began the short journey to his apartment. On her car radio a CD started playing, and a man with a soft and pleasant voice was singing to them about a woman with a green plastic watering can and a fake Chinese rubber plant. (Y/N) hummed along to the song and Spencer looked at her from the passenger seat, and as he did so his mind ventured back to the conversation he over heard between their colleagues earlier today.

"Spencer? Why are you staring at me?" She asked with a small smile, snapping him out of his thoughts and back into reality. His cheeks burned as he silently berated himself, not realizing how long he had been looking over at her. A whole new song was playing on the radio now, the same man now singing about how he used to fly like Peter Pan.

"S-sorry, I, uh, I just, uh—hey, wh-what did you wanna order tonight?" He clumsily attempted to change the subject, looking down at his hands as he wrung them together in his lap.

"Oooh!" (Y/N) exclaimed, always excited to talk about food. "There's a new pizza place across the street from your building that I noticed the last time I came over, what if we ordered from them?"

Spencer closed his eyes and exhaled shakily, relief washing over him. "That sounds like a fantastic idea," he smiled and shot another glance her way, this time immediately looking back at his hands.

(Y/N) parked the car on the curb in front of Spencer's building and turned off the engine. They stepped out into the cool evening air and walked across the street, entering the pizza shop. The inside of the shop was small, just a handful of tables. The walls were painted a pale shade of yellow and plastered with vintage Italian film posters. The air smelled of tomato sauce and pesto, and as they approached the counter a middle aged woman with a red apron over her blue dress pushed through the door in the wall behind it, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Welcome! Table for two?" She asked, looking between (Y/N) and Spencer.

"Can we actually just order something for takeout?" Spencer asked, looking at the menu above her head.

"Of course! What can I get for the handsome couple?" She smiled, her brown eyes crinkling on the side.

Spencer blinked. "Oh, uh, w-we, uh, we're not—," Spencer stammered, his eyes widening as his cheeks flushed. "Um, can we get a, uh, a large pepperoni pizza?" He shifted gears, remembering her once mentioning to Garcia that pepperoni was her favorite pizza topping.

"Did you want a two liter bottle of cola? It would only be an extra $1.25," the lady chuckled, entering everything into the register.

"S-sure," he responded, pulling out his wallet.

"Alrighty! That will be $9.25," Spencer handed over a $20 and the lady opened the register drawer and handed him his change. "Please, feel free to have a seat while the two of you wait." She gestured over at the tables, which were all empty save for one, which was occupied by a single woman with a large slice of pizza on her table doing a crossword puzzle, before walking back through the door behind her.

"After you," he turned to (Y/N), following her to a table by the window. He pulled the chair out for her, earning another one of her beautiful giggles that made his legs go wobbly.

"Always such a gentleman," she smiled up at him as he made his way to the other side of the table and sat down. They waited for around 10 minutes and chatted about random topics, flowing from one to the next. The same lady from before approached the table with a white pizza box and plastic bag with the large bottle of soda and little packets of crushed red peppers and parmesan.

"Here you go, one large pepperoni pizza!" She placed the box and the bag on the table and wished them a good evening before heading back through the same door behind the counter.

The pair headed out of the shop and crossed the street, entering the door to Spencer's apartment building. Spencer carried the pizza box and soda while trailing behind (Y/N), struggling to keep his gaze off of her behind as he followed her up the stairs. As they approached his door, he fumbled trying to get his keys out of his pocket and ended up dropping them on the ground.

(Y/N) immediately reacted, bending down to grab the keys as soon as they hit the ground with a good natured laugh. "Need some help, Spencer?" She teased while grinning up at him.

"Yes, please," he laughed in return, shooting her a sheepish grin of his own. She unlocked the door to his apartment and opened the door, allowing him to slip in first and place the pizza and soda down on his small table. She followed and closed the door behind her.

"So I know I had agreed to come over to watch Star Trek, but what would you say to watching a little Doctor who?" She turned to him, a hopeful glint in her eyes. "It's been a while since I've sat down and watched that and I kind of miss it."

"We can watch anything you'd like!" Spencer responded while heading to the kitchen to grab a couple of plates and glasses. He brought them back out and offered one of each to (Y/N). They each helped themselves to a slice of pizza and poured their drinks before heading over to his couch. He grabbed the remote and put on Doctor Who.

They ate their pizza and watched Doctor Who on his couch, each of them getting up for another slice at least once. Spencer stole the occasional glance at her as they ate and watched, and once they both finished he took their plates to the sink and washed them off before quickly returning. As he sat back down, (Y/N) scooted closer to him slowly before gently leaning up against him and softly asking, "i-is this okay?"

Spencer's breath hitched in his throat as he managed to croak out a quiet, "y-yeah, it's okay." He lifted his arm and tentatively placed it around her shoulders while she moved in closer, leaning into his chest and resting her head against it like she had on the plane as they read together. This time he was sure she had to hear the way his heart was racing, but fortunately she said nothing. They continued to watch in silence as the tension between the two of them grew nearly palpable.

Eventually, once Spencer found himself wondering if she had yet again fallen asleep, (Y/N) broke the silence with a question. "So did you hear the team talking about us earlier today?"

"No, uh, wh-what were they, um, talking about?" He lied, doing his best to maintain his composure.

"You are a very bad liar, Spencer," she chuckled, making his cheeks flush bright red as she sat up.

"Sorry," he muttered, closing his eyes before looking up at her. "Y-yeah, I overheard them. I'm sorry about them, I can try to talk to them about it and ask them to stop—"

"No, it's not that! It was actually fairly funny," she chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "But to be honest I'm kind of offended that they thought it would take me that long to seduce you." She joked, nudging Spencer in the ribs. "I mean, Emily said 'no more or less than 24 hours' but I'm fairly certain that if I really tried, and I mean really put my heart into it, I could get you into bed with me tonight." She laughed again but there was a hint of nervousness in it this time, shooting a look at him from where she sat as a faint pink blush began to spread over her cheeks. Apparently she hadn't heard Hotch's bet, but Spencer wasn't focusing on that. He was too busy focusing on the fact that he was sitting here listening to her speculate how long it would take for her to seduce him as if she hadn't been plaguing his dreams and fantasies since they met.

"Good point," he breathed to himself, hoping it was quiet enough that she wouldn't be able to hear over the TV. Unfortunately for him, he thought wrong. He yelped in surprise as she lunged over his lap, grabbed the remote, and hit the mute button, making the TV go silent.

"Oh, really?" She shot him a smile that was an equal mix of surprised and some other emotion Spencer hadn't seen on her face before. "So tell me, Spencer, what might I need to do to convince you to sleep with me?" Her voice was sultry and soft as she bit her lip and looked up at him, her face closer to his than it had been before.

"I-I, uh," Spencer cleared his throat and swallowed, his heart pounding against his ribcage. He had two options: try to lie his way out of this or just tell her how badly he'd like nothing more than to lay her down and take her right there on the couch. His palms grew slick again but he took a deep breath. He had already been called out for his poor lying skills once this evening, so there was no point in attempting the first option. Instead he simply opted to tell her the truth.

"Y-you wouldn't have to do anything more than just ask and I'd say yes." His voice was barely above a whisper and he finally looked up to meet her eyes before he added, "in a heartbeat."

Before he could fully register what was happening she had leaned in and pressed her lips to his softly. His eyes slowly closed as he kissed her back, shifting to turn so he was facing towards her with more of his body. His hands slid to her waist, wrapping around her and pulling her into him.

When they pulled away from each other he reached his hand up to cup her cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb. He opened his eyes to find her already looking at him before she softly said, "Spencer, would you like to—"

"Yes," he exhaled with a fervent nod, grabbing her face with his other hand and crashing his lips back against hers, her lips parting to allow his tongue into her mouth. She threw her arms around his neck and laid back, pulling Spencer down with her. They shifted their legs until Spencer's hips rested between her thighs, his cock stiffening rapidly in his pants.

Her hands tangled into his hair and he began gently grinding his hips against her. They both moaned into each other's mouths at the sensation and Spencer's movements became more insistent and needy. When they finally broke apart to catch their breath, her cheeks were flushed and her pupils were dilated. Spencer brushed some of her hair out of her face before he pressed his lips to her cheek, then began trailing kisses from her cheek to her chin, then to her neck. She moved her hands to the collar of her shirt and began undoing the buttons while Spencer rose up to remove his own layers.

Once he had removed his shirt he looked back down at her and the sight awaiting him stole the breath right from his lungs. She had removed her shirt and her bra in the time it took him to get his jacket, vest, and shirt off and her entire torso was on display to him. He brought a hand up to one of her breasts and cupped it in his hand, brushing his thumb over the nipple. He leaned back over her and began kissing her neck again, teasing and tormenting her nipple before moving his mouth to take over, his fingers going to the other one to tease while he suckled and ran his tongue over the first one.

Everything else faded into the background when he heard her moan at sensations, including the throbbing and aching need in his pants. All that he could focus on was drawing more of those sounds form her mouth. He let his teeth graze against her nipple and she gasped, tangling her fingers back into his hair. He let his teeth press gently onto the hardened nub again and the moan she released in response was beautiful enough for him to think that maybe he had died and gone to heaven.

He eventually moved his hand from her other nipple, switching it out for his mouth and giving the first one a break. He let his hand trail down her abdomen, stopping as he reached the waistline of her skirt. He looked up at her from her chest as he hooked his fingers into the waistband and began to gently tug. She lifted her hips and used her hands to push her skirt and panties down before Spencer slowly pushed her thighs back open.

His fingers slid up her inner thigh until he reached her dripping center. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt just how ready she was for him. She whimpered beneath him and he felt his cock twitch at the sound as he moaned against her nipple. He gently ran a fingertip from her entrance to her clit, circling around it slowly before running his finger back down the other way. He repeated the action a few times. As he continued he started slipping the tip of his finger into the entrance of her pussy before swiping up to the clit, and with each repetition his finger slipped deeper and deeper into her.

His head became hazy with lust as he kept going until his finger was fully embedded into her. When he slipped it out this time instead of swiping it up to her clit he instead added a second finger, slowly pushing them both into her and pulling them back out. She arched her back up into his mouth, still tormenting her nipple. He switched back to the neglected one, feeling her chest heave against his mouth. Her fingers were back in his hair and tugging gently, and his cock twitched again at the feeling. He moaned loudly against her chest, and she pulled his hair again in response. He tugged at her nipple with his teeth lightly and she gasped, clenching around his fingers.

He sped up his pace, chuckling against her as the way she stifled a scream. "S-Spencer I'm gonna—oh fuck yes I'm coming!" She cried. Spencer pulled back to see her eyes flutter back into her head and her face twist in pleasure. Her face, neck, and chest were flushed scarlet and he felt as her pussy pulsed around his fingers. The sounds that fell from her lips were more beautiful than anything he'd ever heard. He slowed his fingers down, gently coaxing her through her orgasm.

(Y/N) tugged his hair, pulling him up to crash her lips against his. She then moved those hands to his belt, deftly undoing his belt buckle and fly. Spencer removed his belt and then pushed his pants and briefs to his ankles before kicking them off. (Y/N) reached a hand out and ran her fingers over his cock, her thumb swiping across the tip as it throbbed.

He was aching and leaking into her hand, his hips bucking into her touch while she stroked once, twice, a third time, before guiding the tip between her thighs and pressing him against her entrance. He pushed in immediately, moaning at the heat that enveloped him, and stilled once he was fully sheathed inside of her. He panted heavily as he remained still inside of her, listening to the way she whimpered beneath him.

"S-so good," he whispered, his eyes screwed shut as he tried to keep himself from finishing immediately.

"Yeah? It feels good?" She asked breathlessly.

"Yes!" He moaned. "You feel s-so good." His entire body tensed and his arms trembled under his weight when he felt her begin to writhe beneath him, trying to get some sort of friction between her legs. He took deep breaths before he pulled his hips back and pushed them back forward, earning enthusiastic moans from (Y/N)'s lips as her back arched up off of the bed, her chest pressing into his. He dragged himself back out, then back in, and kept this up until their hips had fallen into rhythm together. Every sound that fell from her lips was more beautiful than the last as Spencer rammed into her and the slap of skin on skin was mixed in with their moans.

"Sp-Spencer—" a moan cut her off, followed by his lips finding hers and swallowing the moan. His hips sped up and he felt her nails dig into his shoulders.

"I—oh my god—(Y/N), I think I'm about to come!" He cried out. He tipped his head back and a desperate whine ripped it's way from his throat as he felt himself growing closer and closer with each disjointed thrust into her and each moan from her lips. "Wh-where do you want—oh god—where should I—"

"Give it to me, please!" She mewled underneath him. "Please, please fill me up Spencer, please I need—" he finished before she could even finish her pleas, moaning loudly as he tensed and spilled every drop into her. He could feel her clench down onto him, could hear her cry out in pleasure and felt her fingernails digging into his shoulders hard enough that he suspected she may have drawn blood, but he couldn't bring himself to care about that through the pleasure coursing through every cell in his body.

By the time he came back down, he could barely hold himself up on his arms with how hard they were trembling. He opened his eyes and was blown away by the sight beneath him. Her hair was tousled and her face and chest were flushed, the latter heaving with her own gasps for air. Spencer leaned in to give her lips a soft kiss before pulling himself out of her. When he looked down in between their legs and saw his seed dripping out of her, his head spun with lust. He was snapped out of it by the sound of a cell phone ringing, and he reached for the source of the sound to determine which of them needed to answer.

When he located the phone beneath his own pants he answered figuring it to be his own phone ringing. "Hello?" He was still breathlessly panting as he looked at (Y/N), her eyes dancing with humor at his tone.

"Reid, is that you?" Garcia's voice came through the phone.

"Yeah, who else would it be?" He asked, gaining back a bit of control over his breathing.

"Well, given that I dialed (Y/N)'s number, perhaps her?" She laughed a little bit. "What are you doing answering (Y/N)'s phone sounding like you just finished a marathon?" She asked, her voice growing more and more excited with each word.

"I—uh, um—(Y-Y/N)'s phone?" He stammered, sitting up quickly at the words as he turned his gaze to (Y/N), who was cleaning herself up next to him with some tissues she had grabbed from his side table. Her eyes widened as she heard those two words come from his mouth and her hand shot to cover her mouth to stifle her laughter. "I. uh, I guess I must have grabbed hers by mistake after we ate lunch together at her desk."

"Spencer Reid you really are the world's worst liar!" Garcia laughed from the other end as Spencer felt his entire face burn with embarrassment at being called out on his poor lying skills twice in one evening.

"I-it's for you," he mumbled while he handed her the phone. After he had cleaned himself up, he put his pants and shirt back on while he let (Y/N) focus on her conversation with Garcia, which she managed to continue while getting dressed. Once she had hung up the phone she pressed her fingers to her temples and rubbed slowly while laughing.

"Well, now that Penelope knows so will everyone on the team," she let out a sigh but then smiled at Spencer so sweetly he couldn't help but scoot closer and wrap his arms around her again. They sat like that for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's presence in front of the still muted television.

"Hey, Spencer?" She spoke up eventually.

"Yeah?" He muttered back sleepily while he absent-mindedly played with her hair.

"I'm going to go grab another slice of pizza, want me to bring you one, too?"

[screampied]

hi hi!! Can i req a choso with him being gentle and sweet at sex w reader? :( like he would always be careful and always gives reader praises ahdjshsjeh </3

꒰  warnings . . choso x fem!reader, soft dom choso, praise, size difference, missionary. mdni. wc: 1.1k

choso has to remind himself of how much bigger he is compared to you.

the way his broad frame effortlessly towers over you, especially during intimacy. he’d never wanna break you, his precious girl.

you’d be laid against your back, a perfect position so he can look at you right in the eyes, compliment you with a plethora of sweet sweet praises, kiss you, and even moan in your ear, making sure you know how good you’re making him feel.

“m-missed you,” he’d softly pant—his tip just shakily hovering against your slickness, he licks his lips with a hand gently pressed down against your tummy, a smooth stroke before he speaks in a cute drowsy voice, eyes half lidded. “look at me. here, hold my hand baby. please. ‘s okay.”

you reach to hold his hand, and a tiny smile tugged against his lips, he leans into your neck before he moans at the sudden squeeze your walls give him.

adjusting to him and that feeling always makes him do that thing where he moans out your name against your neck, playfully seeping his teeth against your shoulder. “g-god, don’t let go princess. jus’ hold onto me, okay? i’ll please you good, promise.”

“o-okay.” you swallowed, intertwining your fingers with his, and his fingers were surprisingly cold. the moment his touch ran and collided against yours though, oh how hot and warm he felt.

choso could praise you all day.

his strokes weren’t rough but they were just enough of a good amount to drag out sweet whimpers from you, he’d be pressed up against your ear as his length expands throughout your cunt, prodding against a few of your most sensitive spots to make your legs involuntarily lock around his slim waist.

“hold onto me, jus hold onto me.” he’d hum, and he was whining even more than you. softly licking a stripe up your neck, your right arm hooked around his shoulders, cutely clinging onto him in a romantic missionary position.

choso swallows thickly, peppering many kisses on your face, then it lead down towards your neck and collarbone — before he pauses mid thrust just to say, “oh…you’re jus’ so perfect.”

the way you’d immediately grow flustered at his words, averting your eyes away before lightly squeezing on his arm, moaning for him to keep going because you could still feel him harden and twitch inside of you.

“r-right, sorry baby. just had to admire you for a second…”

his tone was so smooth, almost bittersweet with the way he spoke to you. choso couldn’t help but sneak kisses on your mouth throughout his sloppy thrusts. his hips moved and went at its own reasonable pace — you always found it attractive how he couldn’t stop himself from deliberately moaning into your mouth. he’d always do it whenever his lips went against yours.

“you’re doin’ so good, s-so good, look at how pretty you look underneath me.” he’d mumble, raising his chin up to kiss your forehead.

while in the position, he couldn’t help but be a bit handsy to say the least. just running the very soft tips of his fingers against every curve and inch of your body….slowly.

taking in your breathtaking frame — a word he’d always use around you because that’s how he viewed you. “good girl, are you getting close? want me to s-slow down?”

“no,” you’d moan, wrapping both arms around his neck now. his movements of his hips, a good yet tad bit of a quicken pace had you bite your lip, his body heat, the sheer warmth of it had your mind just spinning. you merely lost your train of thought before you feel yourself approaching a release and your head goes back. “c-choso,” you’d whine out. and the way his eyes immediately light up at hearing his name come from your sweet mouth. “….think ‘m gonna cum, ‘m close.”

“me too, baby,” he’d rasp, his jaw tightens a bit before he leans in to kiss the side of your mouth. his ears—at least the very tips of them grow out to be so hot, feeling your pussy just grip around him and hug him close. “you look so pretty like this, y’know?”

“you’re just saying that.” you shyly utter.

“noooo i’m really not,” he cracks a smile before gasping once you drag his waist closer against you, making him hit against you just a tad bit deeper. “eheh, baby, you’re so frisky. are you sure this isn’t too rough? don’t wanna—”

you cut him off by bringing him into a kiss, it’s like his mind goes straight blank whenever you do that. the way your tongue runs across his, one hand stroking his cheek—for a moment you swear you could have heard him purr, his hair was down so it just prickled against your forehead.

you pull away before moaning, “i’m okay, i promise.”

“yeah?” he’d say, a tiny pout making his lip quiver.

“yeah.” you reassure him, reaching for his hand to squeeze it.

“…okay,” he inhales a breath. you were so cute it was almost too much for him. the way you brush a thumb against his hand, giving him kind eyes that this was what you wanted. he gives you a final kiss on the top of your head before he starts talking you through your orgasm. “just relax, okay? this is all about you, not me. wanna make you feel good.”

and he was so intent on doing that, he studied your facial expressions — the way your eyes would roll a bit in pleasure, your body language and how you’d fail to stay still, squeezing down on his hand.

“i know baby,” he murmurs, kissing the bottom of your chin. “you’re doin’ amazing, just let go for me, hold on tight ‘n don’t let go alright?” and the way his tip, his tip alone massages your inner walls has you stuttering on empty blank words, your mouth was a straight empty canvas. “look at me, hey hey don’t look away,” he whispers. “wanna see those pretty eyes roll when you cum.”

“f-fuck,” you’d babble out, hugging him, if one can consider that hugging. his body weight hovers against you, just rocking back and forth and it was so lewd, his thrusts against you were so sensual it left you with a good taste in your mouth. “okay, okay. c-choso, fuck, h-hold me.”

“i got you.” he’d whisper, it was almost like he sang it. the moment you came, feeling the immense pressure that was building up finally release itself, your legs spasmed and your orgasm was ripped away, you stared at choso before turning away and he smiles to himself. he brings a hand up to your head — a brief head pat, massaging your scalp a bit with his fingers before sharing a deep kiss with you.

he slowed down completely, just slowly rocking against you as your legs twitched, wrapping against his waist and never letting go.

“good girl,” he says between kisses, he tastes so sweet — peppering your entire face with kisses until he cracks a smile from you. “my good girl.”

[yawnderu]

Innocence Loss - König x Reader

Delayed Kinktober Day 3: Virginity loss - König x Reader

CW: Virginity loss, jealous König, rough sex, pussy eating, creampie, breeding kink if you squint.

"So wet for me, spatzi." König muttered softly, shaky fingers teasing your wet slit up and down, gathering your juices before his hand went back to his cock, soft groans escaping his lips as he used your own wetness to lube himself up. His mouth latched up to your cunt again, your whiny moans being rewarding enough as he worked up and down his long, veiny shaft.

"König... need you." You managed to speak between soft gasps and moans, the sensation of his long, flat tongue licking you up and down for the past 10 minutes was starting to become too much— he already made you cum twice, using the excuse that he needed you all wet so you could handle his big cock, yet in reality, he simply liked your taste. Like a starved man, König latched onto your clit, rubbing his cock so hard he already felt on edge.

"Beg for me." He said softly, his cockiness in the battlefield rubbing off on his regular life, yet surprisingly, he wasn't embarrassed about it.

"Please— fuck, I need you inside me. Please, baby?" Your pathetic begging went to his head, yet the look in his eyes betrayed just how much this man adored you. Messy hair, lips parted as you waited for him, a thin layer of sweat covering the body he was so enamored with, and your legs open, revealing the sweet cunt he craved so bad it hurt.

"Pretty girl." He muttered softly, pure affection on his voice as he joined you in bed, opening your legs even more to give his behemoth body enough space. He lined himself up to your cunt, gently pulling his foreskin down to rub the tip of his stupidly big dick up and down your wet entrance, slowly going in until he's bottoming out.

"Scheiße—" He grunted softly, voice going deeper as he grimaced under the mask. König was used to using his own calloused hand to cum, doing it only because he was bored and horny, which he grew out of the more years he spent in the military, yet the feeling of your tight, warm walls swallowing him up hungrily hit him like a tidal wave. You felt too damn good, and he had to resist the urge to cum already, not wanting to embarass himself.

"Are you okay?" He asked you gently, his hand slowly running up and down the length of your hair worriedly when he noticed the slight grimace on your face. König knew he was big in every single way, and his cock was not the exception.

"I'm good, just— move, please." Feeling the stretch of his massive shaft was just as painful as you imagined, yet the pleasure that came from it couldn't be denied. He builds up a pace, slowly going more and more intense as his thrusts get rougher, deeper, harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills his private quarters, and you're secretly glad he's a colonel, as it gives you both more privacy.

"You've been bad, haven't you? Desperate for my cock, letting others flirt with you..." He mutters out between clenched teeth, his thrusts only getting rougher as he recalls what happened earlier. You didn't have the heart to tell him a member of KorTac simply was asking you for advice, the feeling of his tip slamming against your cervix was way too good to ruin the moment. He can believe whatever his jealous and possessive mind told him, as long as he keeps on angrily fucking you.

"No one else gets to touch you like this." He growls out, sitting on his knees while his massive hands easily hold onto your hips, lifting you up with him while he pounded into you, your moans mixed with his as he used you like you were simply a fleshlight— compared to his massive frame, you are.

König shows no mercy anymore, slamming his entire nine inches of meat into you with primal force. Despite the way he's being so rough, his light blue eyes are completely set into your face, looking for any signs of discomfort yet all he can see is pure bliss. His already big ego grows more and more as he hammers into you, all the pretty noises and faces you're making because of him, him and no one else, are getting to his head.

He moves your hips away as he pulls out, suddenly slamming himself all the way back in before you can protest. He drags a whiny moan out of you, pain and pleasure mixing as you can feel a familiar warmth building up in your stomach. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear as he mutters out pure nonsense in German. You can barely make out "Hure" between whatever he's whispering. His German sounds hotter than ever and you listen intently, dumbly nodding your head to his words despite not understanding him.

With each powerful thrust, he claims you, marking you as his own. The pleasure builds, coiling around your naked, sweaty bodies until it's way too much to bear. And when you finally release, his arms wrap around you protectively, holding your tiny body close to his as your bodies explode in a shared release. His thick, white cum fills up your womb, painting your velvety walls with his fertile sperm.

[dollishbabess]

HOW BATBOYS WOULD REACT WHEN YOU GET CATCALLED (IF YOU FOUGHT BACK OR DIDNT) - dollish

A/n: As someone who got a NAKED GUY chase them in Central Park once,it’s same to say I don’t go out at night and I have my reasons 😭😭 idk if you guys want a story time though (it’s in replies of comments)

Second divider @cafekitsune

Dick grayson:

If you fought back first:

Surprise and Concern Dick would be taken aback by your sudden action. “Whoa! I didn’t expect you to do that!” He’d rush in, concerned about your safety and the potential repercussions of your actions.

Supportive Reaction After the initial surprise, he’d be impressed by your boldness. “I admire the courage, but let me handle this next time. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Talk it Out He’d want to discuss what happened afterward, emphasizing that while he respects your willingness to stand up for yourself, he’d prefer to ensure your safety first. “You didn’t have to take matters into your own hands; I’m here for that.”

If you didn’t fight back:

Protective Instinct Dick’s protective nature would kick in immediately. He’d likely step in without hesitation, using both charm and assertiveness to diffuse the situation. “Hey! Back off!” Which surprisingly he doesn’t do physically fights as dick grayson but used to when he was younger.

Non-Violent Approach While he might be ready to fight if necessary, he’d prefer to use his words first. He’d try to make the perpetrators feel ashamed or embarrassed instead of escalating to violence.

Check-In Afterward, he’d check in with you to ensure you’re okay, offering support and reassurance. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that. Are you alright?” Would check you for any sign of discomfort or emotional distress.

Jason Todd:

If you fought back first:

Immediate Approval (YUHH THATS MY GIRLL) Jason would likely be thrilled by your boldness. “Damn, that was awesome!” He’d appreciate your willingness to fight back against disrespect and might find it incredibly attractive.

Reinforcing Behavior He’d stand beside you, ready to support you in case things escalated further. “I’ve got your back; let’s show them what we can do together.”

Post-Fight Confidence Afterward, he’d be all about boosting your confidence. “You didn’t back down. That’s badass. Just remember, you’re not alone in these situations.”

If you didn’t fight back:

Immediate Rage Jason would likely be furious upon witnessing the situation. His protective instincts would lead him to confront the catcallers aggressively. “You think you can just touch her like that? Get the hell away!” Would be so ready to pop a jaw out of place.

Fight Ready He wouldn’t hesitate to escalate to violence if the catcallers didn’t back off in a nano second, his past experiences fueling his anger towards disrespect since he grew up in the streets he’s seen how violent men are towards woman.

Aftermath Support Once it’s resolved, he’d focus on you, ensuring you feel safe and respected. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. You deserve better, let’s go home.” He’d say a bit annoyed but definitely mood wrecked and definitely made sure you saw stars that night.

Tim Drake:

If you fought back first:

Shock and Support (Like girl, you just did that?) Tim would be shocked at first, watching you throw the punch. “Whoa!” His concern for your safety would come first.

Strategic Thinking After the punch, he’d quickly assess the situation and help you strategize. “That was a bold move! But maybe next time we should come up with a plan together?”

Validation He’d validate your feelings and support your actions, understanding your need to stand up for yourself. “I get why you did that; nobody should have to deal with harassment. Just be careful!”

If you didn’t fight back:

Quick Analysis Tim would assess the situation quickly, evaluating how best to handle it. He might initially react with shock before stepping in.

Calm Confrontation He would confront the catcallers with a calm demeanor, using logic and authority to demand they stop. “That’s not cool; you need to leave her alone.”

Protective Move If the situation escalated, he wouldn’t shy away from physical confrontation, but he’d also prioritize your safety and try to de-escalate things first.

Supportive Afterwards Afterward, he’d want to talk about what happened, ensuring you feel heard and validated. “Are you okay? I can’t believe they thought that was okay.”

Damian Wayne:

If you fought back first:

Impressed but Concerned (BRO’S THROWING HANDS W YOU) Damian would be impressed by your courage but also worried about the consequences. “That was… unexpected. Are you certain you wish to engage in a fight?”

Protective Instinct He’d immediately stand next to you, ready to back you up if needed. “If they retaliate, I will not hesitate to defend you.”

Ownership of the Situation After the incident, he’d likely want to ensure you felt validated. “Your actions were brave, but remember that you must also consider your safety in these situations.”

If you didn’t fight back:

Immediate Intervention Damian would react with a sense of urgency, feeling that your honor was being challenged. He’d step in swiftly, ready to confront the aggressors. “How dare you lay a hand on her!”

Defensive and Fierce His fighting style would be aggressive, and he wouldn’t hesitate to take action if they didn’t back down. He views such disrespect as an affront not only to you but also to himself (he should be on baddies atp)

Possessive Nature After the confrontation, he’d likely be very protective, wanting to ensure you feel safe. “You should not have to endure such disrespect. Stay close to me next time.”

Bruce Wayne:

If you fought back first:

Initial Shock Bruce would be initially shocked by your reaction. “Y/N what are you doing!?!” He’d be concerned about the possible repercussions of such actions in a civilian setting.

Protective Reaction He’d quickly assess the situation, ready to step in if things escalated. “Let’s not make a scene. I’ll handle this.”

Serious Conversation Afterward, he’d want to have a serious conversation about your actions. “While I respect your need to stand up for yourself, it’s important to think about the consequences. Your safety matters most to me.”

If you didn’t fight back:

Calculated Response Bruce would remain calm and collected, assessing the situation before acting. He’d approach the catcallers with an air of authority, making it clear they need to back off.

Verbal Confrontation He might use his intimidating presence and voice to confront them. “You’re making her uncomfortable. Leave now, or you’ll regret it.”

Prepared for Escalation If they didn’t comply, he’d be ready to fight, using his combat skills effectively.

Caring Aftermath Once it’s over, he’d turn his attention to you, offering support and reassurance. “Are you alright? Let’s get you somewhere safe.” And would try to take your mind off it in any way he could.

Tbh all of them would fight for you, just some of them don’t throw hands first especially tim and Bruce.

This is for awareness purposes, thousands of women today around the world have to go through this and worse thousands of women and young girls and minors are being assaulted today, please teach and make a difference for the world today it could be anyone, your mother, sister, daughter, cousin, aunt, grandma etc.

[snowballseal]

Insecurities - Rafayel

Summary: Here is the portion of Rafayel reacting to your insecurities. And you best know this man goes big to prove a point. Much fluff.

Here is the original with the other LADS boys

Word Count: 1831

Notes: Reader has insecurities about they way they look, so just keep in mind. It ends fluffy and happy though.

---

“Rafayel, do I look okay?”

The artist immediately drops whatever he was doing, twisting around to peer over the back of the couch as you step into the studio.

His iridescent eyes scan over your figure, his voice lilting with teasing affection, “I’m not sure I even want to go if this is what you’re wearing. I think everyone would think you’re the art and ignore my hard work.”

You wrinkle your nose. Partially because he’s being ridiculous. Partially because you don’t really believe him. The dress is gorgeous of course, he did a great job of helping you pick one out, but it doesn’t change the way you’ve been feeling for the past few days.

Before you met Rafayel, you never paid much attention to how you looked. Not in a bad way, you kept yourself neat and dressed up whenever you went out for special occasions, but it was never on your mind much. But now…You don’t know. It’s not Rafayel’s fault, the man has never been shy in complimenting you, but you can’t help but notice the type of women that like to approach him. All gorgeous enough to be models, with the confidence to match - seeing as they always have to gall to flirt with him even when you’re holding hands.

And you wish it didn’t get to you. It shouldn’t. Rafayel doesn’t even bat an eyelash at them, always focusing on you or making more obvious shows of affection to chase them away. Still, the more it happens, the more you find yourself caring about how you look, or not liking the way you look. 

And wearing a lovely dress only seems to highlight your self-perceived flaws.

“Do you really think it looks okay?” You ask again, fiddling with the satin self-consciously. 

Rafayel’s brow furrows a little. He tilts his head, looking almost like a confused puppy, “What is it? Do you not like the dress? Do you not want to go anymore? Please don’t make me go alone. These galleries are sooo boring without you, I hate them.”

“They’re your galleries,” you point out, shaking your head with a small smile, “How can you hate them so much? It’s your work, they deserve to be celebrated.”

“Why go stare at my own work when I can spend the night staring at you?”

Heat creeps up your cheeks. Usually you’d have a witty comeback to his flirting, but you can’t find anything tonight, not with how you’re feeling. So you just ruffle his hair fondly, avoiding the intense affection in his gaze.

“Come on, Thomas will be mad if we don’t show up. We need to go.”

Rafayel’s eyes narrow. Before you can pull away, he grabs your wrist, keeping you anchored to where you are. Your heart jumps to your throat at the serious expression he suddenly gives you.

“What’s wrong? You’re acting strange.” 

Being an artist, Rafayel knows you, your face, your body, better than anyone. He’s always looking at you, holding on to every new detail he finds. Like the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. How the tip of your nose turns rosy when you’re even a little cold. Or how your lips twitch before you lie. Like they are now.

“I’m fine, Raffie, just…tired,” you sigh, tugging against his hold, still trying to avoid him, “Now come on, we should go.”

“Hmmmmm…no.”

You squeak as Rafayel unexpectedly gives your wrist a sharp pull. The momentum sends you tumbling over the back of the couch, right into his lap, and before you can escape, he has you wrapped in his arms. Stuck.

“Rafayel-! Let go of me,” you growl, squirming around hopelessly. The man is surprisingly strong, and with your feet still tossed over the back of the couch, you can’t get enough leverage to escape.

“Nope, not until you tell me what’s wrong,” he hums, arms tightening around your waist.

You huff and give him a solid glare, “This isn’t funny, Rafayel.”

“And neither is hiding something that’s obviously bothering you,” he snips back softly, “You’re a horrible liar, miss bodyguard.”

“I just…” You cross your arms, face feeling warmer and warmer the longer he stares at you. Why does he have to be so stubborn at times like this? “I haven’t been feeling good about myself lately, okay? That’s it, now can we go?”

“Nope.” You resist the urge to groan.

“Thomas is going to throw a fit-”

“He can handle it tonight, I’ll give him a bonus. What’s more important is fixing this.” Rafayel props his chin on your shoulder, a contemplative frown pulling at his lips. “It’ll have to be something creative, which I’m great at, of course. But what?”

“Rafayel, this really isn’t necessary,” you grumble, “I don’t think it’s something you can fix.”

The artist shakes his head, pressing a faint kiss to your shoulder, “I think you underestimate me, cutie. But that’s okay, I think I know exactly what to do.”

Lifting you up, Rafayel sets you back on the couch gingerly and darts off after giving you instructions to not move. A heavy sigh passes your lips as you fix your dress, though it seems a bit pointless now. It doesn’t sound like you’ll be going to the gallery.

A part of you is secretly relieved at that. You love looking at Rafayel’s work, but since it’s his gallery, all the attention would be on him, and, consequently, you as well. It’s a bit suffocating. Still, you’re a little wary of whatever plan he has concocted. Rafayel is as unpredictable as he is talented.

Time seems to tick by slowly as you sit on the couch. You eye the clock, noting each minute as it passes by. Your nerves only continue to rise the longer you’re alone. What on earth is he doing?

On the tenth minute, Rafayel reappears, a mischievous spark in his eyes. He offers you a hand.

“The gallery is ready for you to attend, cutie.”

This time, your eyes narrow, though you still take his hand, allowing him to help you up. “I thought you said we weren’t going?”

“Oh, this is a different kind of gallery,” he hums, looking quite proud of himself, “I think you’ll enjoy this one a lot more. And I’ll be your personal tour guide.”

“How kind,” you muse, fighting your own smile. You might as well humor him, even if it doesn’t help. As long as Rafayel is happy, you can count the night as some kind of success.

Rafayel leads you to one of the spare rooms of the studios. You vaguely remember him telling you at some point that it’s a room he likes to keep his sketchbooks and unfinished projects in. You cast him a curious glance, but his eyes are set ahead as he touches the door, that smile still painted across his lips.

“These works are some of the most important that I’ve ever done, and you’ll be the first to see them. My heart rests in your hands tonight, so be careful, otherwise you might mortally wound me and I’ll never have the courage to paint again.”

You roll your eyes at his antics, about to make a sassy remark, but the words get lost when he presses the door open. Your eyes go wide at the sight before you.

The room is lit by candles, flickering with the flames of his evol. Their light dances across countless artworks spread across the room, hanging on every surface, each one depicting the same subject.

You.

Most of them are sketches, their strokes simple and spontaneous but laden with care, like he had wanted to capture a precious moment for himself. There’s one of you dozing off on the couch, another of you dancing in the kitchen. There’s even one of you holding a stuffy, from one of your many trips to the arcade.

The further you walk into the room, the more detailed the pieces become. 

A charcoal drawing of you in your uniform, gun drawn on something off page. The lines of your body are like water, fluid and graceful, the look in your eyes somehow burning with a fierce determination.

An oil painting of the night you spent at the market. Your image is looking at a sparkler, the light reflected in your eyes like stars, your cheeks painted a soft rosy color that seems to glow. It’s impossibly delicate, each stroke placed with such intention, it’s almost like you’re there again.

The final painting you come to make your face go warm again. It’s of you, curled up under a familiar set of sheets, mostly focused on your face. Your hair pools against the pillow, messy yet somehow charming in its unruliness. The morning sunlight dapples across your skin, highlighting the soft color of your lips and the gentle curve of your smile. But it’s your eyes that really make your breath catch. You can practically see the sleepy fog in them, like you had just woken, but also the undeniable warmth. The love.

It’s…beautiful. They’re all beautiful. And they’re all you.

“This is…” You swallow around the lump in your throat, suddenly feeling off-kilter. “I can’t believe you did all of these.”

Rafayel, who had been following behind you silently, hums softly and curls his arms around your waist. You lean back into his touch, letting it ground you and your swirling emotions.

“It’s been difficult even focusing on my work for the gallery. Everything else seems to pale in comparison when I have such a beautiful muse in front of me all the time,” he murmurs the words against your temple, voice quiet to match the atmosphere of the room. “I could devote lifetimes to painting you and never grow tired of it.”

You bite back a bashful smile, unable to resist the urge to tease him a little, “I didn’t realize I was so distracting.”

“Just ask Thomas. I think this is the most he’s ever had to remind me to finish my work,” Rafayel chuckles, giving your waist a squeeze. “But it was worth the missed deadlines. Afterall, isn’t it my responsibility as your employer and lover to make sure you understand how much I cherish you?”

Your heart flutters wildly as the brazen affection in his tone. It seems to melt away your doubts, replacing them with an overwhelming feeling of fondness for your artist. Only Rafayel would do something like this for you, how could you deny it?

Turning around in his hold, you lean up on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek, which you notice is an absolutely rosy shade of red. It makes you feel even more fond. You really really love this man.

“Thank you, my pretty fish. I feel much better now.”

That dazzling smile lights up his face again, and he leans down to scatter kisses all over your face, whispering between your bouts of giggles, “Anything for you, my queen.”

---

All the smooches. I love this man. I will die on the hill of using the nickname "fish" or "fishie" with him, I think it's soooo cute.

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Green Eyed

Pairings - Rafe Cameron x Reader (Jj x reader & Jb x reader)

Summary - You want Rafe to admit you’re his girl so you set out to make him Jealous.

Warnings - drinking, language, oral, sex, choking, scratching, name calling, slight manhandling. 18+

The party was in full swing, red cups lined the kitchen bench and the stench of tequila wafted through the vents. You sat upon the couch, pressed between Rafe and Topper. Both of them talking above your head while you watched your best friend flirt with her coworker, you loved people watching. Especially at parties where they really let loose and show you their hidden personality.

“It’s rude to stare '' Topper jokes, his arm resting behind your head casually. Ignoring the glares Rafe was throwing his way, this usually caused an argument between the two of them. Rafe would say ‘don’t touch my girl’ and Topper would throw the ‘she isn’t your girl until you make her your girl’, it would just spiral from there. Honestly it was kind of draining, Rafe always telling people you were his girl but never officially making you his girl.

“So Topper, do you think Rafe is jealous?” You're adding fuel to the fire, smirking up at Rafe who’s brows are scrunched together in annoyance. You could practically feel the anger radiating off his broad frame.

“Why yes y/n, I do think he is jealous” Topper chuckles, his fingers dropping to your shoulder giving you a small squeeze. Rafe scoffs angling his body to face the both of you, anger still riddled his features.

“Please… I am not jealous” he states, no hesitation to his words. Your heart drops, did he really mean that? Or was he fucking around?

“Oh really?” Your eyebrows raise at him, a challenge. You were down for a challenge, you’d show him. “You wouldn’t mind if I did this then”.

Your lips are on Toppers before Rafe can even respond, your tongue invading his mouth. Your hands cup his jaw as his own hands greedily pull you in by your lower waist.

You feel his body move from beside you and when you pull away he’s storming through the party, fists curled at his side in anger. “That worked”.

“Sorry, I should have asked if that was okay” you say, giving Topper a soft smile which he reciprocates. “That’s alright, I’m down to make Rafe jealous any day. Bro needs to be knocked down a peg or two” he jokes, watching his best friend throw back shot after shot. The both of you laugh at how quick he was to leave, your feeling rather cocky until he’s pulling the girl you have such a deep hate for to his lips.

The breath is knocked out of you at the sight, his hands are feeling all over her body. She’s fucking loving it, practically humping him like a goddamn dog. He’s pushing her against a wall and slipping his fingers under her dress, the anger is bubbling within you.

“He’s a dickhead” Topper says beside you, his hand runs up and down your arm in a comforting friendly sort of way. “Don’t worry, I’m going to win this thing” you state, pushing yourself off the chair and storming into the dance floor.

There was no one else Rafe hated more than JJ Maybank and you knew he would be around here somewhere, your tapping Kiara on the shoulder giving her a smile which she reciprocates surprisingly. “Do you know where JJ is?” You ask, you don’t like your odds with her. She was fiercely loyal to her friends and hated Kooks to the core. She was a hit and miss when it came to being her friend, something you’ve dealt with since you were kids. “Probably outside smoking a joint”.

She’s turning back to her friends before you can ask anything else, you look back over at Rafe one last time and set out on your hunt.

Back inside Rafe is pulling away from the girl in front of him, turning back to the seat you once occupied. Grinning to himself when he sees you're gone, pushing the girl's skanky hands away from him and stalks back over to Topper. “That was low bro” Topper tutts, shaking his head at Rafe who rolls his eyes in response. “Where did she go?”.

“Oh you don’t want to know” Topper grumbles, Clearly unhappy you were going to use a pogue instead of a Kook. He was all good with this little game but didn’t like the idea of the pogues. “Tell me”

“Your not going to like it bro”

“Just fucking tell me!” Rafe shouts, fisting his friend's shirt in anger. “Went to look for Maybank”.

Rafes face is pure red, the vein in his neck threatening to burst. He shouts a few curse words and drops Topper back on the couch, storming his way through the house.

You're kissing JJ Maybank, someone you never thought you’d kiss. He always jokingly said how much you wanted him and would say he’d rock your world, you’d be begging to be a pogue, you just didn’t expect to be dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Right here?” JJ stutters, aware that you were not at all in private. Anyone could step behind the shade cloth and see you on your knees with his cock in your mouth. “Don’t be scared” you purred, stroking his cock slowly emitting a low groan from his chest.

Your tongue swirls around his head, swallowing him deep into your throat. Your cheeks hollow around him, tongue gliding up and down his shaft. He’s a moaning mess, fingers curled into your messy hair. Leaning against the wall for support, he was not surprised with how good you took his cock. “I always knew your pretty mouth was good for something” he groaned, rolling your eyes at his words you pushed him to the back of your throat, spit trailed down your chin.

Rafe was about ready to beat the absolute shit out of JJ, eyes staring hard from across the garden. His anger was radiating off him, his body shook with rage. “Fuck” he screamed, causing the bodies in the garden you scatter from him. Not wanting to be caught in the crossfire of Rafe Cameron.

The moment you hear his voice, you move faster against JJ, it only takes a few more strokes of your tongue and you're pushing him away and angling his cock to his exposed stomach. He’s shooting his load all over himself, eyes hooded and breath labored. He watched you pull yourself to your feet, wiping your mouth with your thumb. “Thanks” you breath, spinning in the spot you walk away from him and towards where Rafe and Topper stood.

You should feel slightly afraid with the way he’s staring at you, his eyes are dark with anger and the veins in his arms are straining hard. “Like the show?” You smirk, patting him on the chest. His fingers grip your wrist tightly and worry floods your veins at the tightness, screwing your face up in pain. Topper's hand comes up to squeeze Rafe’s shoulders, reminding him where he is and who he’s touching.

He lets your wrist go instantly but doesn’t say a word, you expect him to cave and admit he is jealous and finally ask you to be his girl. Instead he is once against stomping away, you roll your eyes hard and turn to Topper.

“He’s so damn stubborn! What the fuck!” You exclaim, snatching the drink from Topper you skull the half warm beer and pass him back the empty bottle. “I need something stronger”.

A fair few shots later, you're dancing like an absolute mad woman with Topper and your best friend. Glancing around the room looking for Rafe, expecting him to be lent against the wall watching. “Where is Rafe?” You question Topped, he shrugs and goes back to dancing.

You step away from them in search for him, suddenly feeling nauseas that he’s fucking some one else up stairs.

Your opening doors and searching high and low for him, the last bathroom stares you in the face. You knock but no one says anything, gripping the door handle you open the door. Rafe’s eyes meet yours and evil smirk paints upon his face, your eyes drop to the floor where you're supposed friends kneels in front of him. His cock burried deep in her throat, tears of pleasure soaking her cheeks.

You're slamming the door shut and running away from the bathroom, tears are threatening to spill. Topper and your best friend are nowhere to be seen, searching the crowd for anyone to hide with.

“What’s wrong” John B is questioning, his arm comes around your shoulder pulling you in for a hug. It was no secret that you and John B got along, he was the only pogue who didn’t just look at you as a piece of shit or a piece of meat. “Rafe”.

That’s all you need to say, John B nods and pulls you up the stairs. You follow closely behind him, walking into a room unoccupied. Moving over to sit on the bed. “He’s just so infuriating, he won’t admit he’s jealous, he won’t ask me to be his girlfriend” you blurt, covering your face with the palms of your hands. “I am purposely going out of my way to make him jealous and he just one ups me, I just caught him getting a fucking blow job from Beck! She’s meant to be my friend!”

John B takes a seat next to you and pulls you into a hug, your fingers crunch up the material of his shirt in anger. Hiding your face in the crook of his neck, he lets you complain and mumble into his shirt for a few moments until he pulls you away.

He’s kissing you to stop your rambling, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. Moving your body to straddle him, his hands run up the length of your thighs. “Let's make him jealous and you’ll even get an orgasm out of it”

You're nodding your head and pressing your lips to his, grinding your hips into him. You can feel him growing beneath you, your wetness begins to soak the material of your panties. Your grabby hands bunch up his shirt until he’s throwing it over his head, your fingers dancing across his chest and abs.

Dipping your hands low to unbutton his shorts, you step off him and pull your dress over your head. Your breasts sat bare, John B’s eyes trained in on your hard nipples.

“Just to make Rafe Jealous” you state, he nods his head and you step towards him. He grabs you by the waist and pushes you down onto the bed.

Rafe is wild, running around the house and outside looking for you. Topper follows close behind him, they both search for you. “You took it too far bro, if you just told her you were jealous she wouldn’t have run off” he says, rolling his eyes at his best friend. Rafe comes to a stop and turns his body, running the palm of his hand down his face. “Shut the fuck up… I already know that! She’s mine okay and I’m going to show her that she’s mine!” He growls, storming back off again. He runs up the stairs, pulling open doors. He just about falls to his knees at the sight of you laying upon the bed, somebody’s head between your thighs. Your face screwed up in pleasure, explicit moans fall from your open lips. His hand shoots out to stop Topper from walking in and seeing you naked upon a bed, your head turns to the door in shock at the sound of Topper grunting.

You're coming around John B’s tongue at the sight of Rafe watching, his eyebrows creased and he steps into the room. “You’ve had your fun, now get out before I break your goddamn face AGAIN” he growls, his eyes don’t leave yours. He knows if he sees John B’s lips glisten with your arousal he will pummel him. He watches as you sit up slowly, waving your hand towards John B. “It’s okay” you say, giving him a look of ‘this is what I wanted’, he nods his head and pulls his shorts back on and stumbles out of the room.

You reach for your dress, but Rafe is quick to snatch it from you. “Give it back” you exclaim, reaching for the material. Your bare chest presses to his, you could feel the thud of his heart rattling against you. The heat from his anger radiated from his body, he dropped the dress and enclosed his fingers around your throat.

“You know I don’t like to share” he growls, he walks you back until the back of your knees press to the bed. Tightening his grip around your throat, watching your face flush red. You let out a choked cry scratching at his forearm, he lets go slightly and pushes you down on the bed. “You were jealous Rafe, just fucking admit it!” You shout, you dig your nails into his forearm causing him to pull away from your throat. “Fucking admit it Rafe! Fucking admit that you want me to be your girl! If you don’t, I’m done” you warn, you press your foot into his chest and push him away from you. He stumbles back into the wall giving you the opportunity to grab your dress and run around the side of the bed.

“Admit it… I’ll put this dress on and I’ll walk out that door. You’ll never see me naked again” your chest is heaving, anxiety bubbles in your stomach. You weren’t sure he would admit, he was stubborn and could be such an asshole when he wanted to be. You weren’t sure you could take it if he let you leave, you were in love with him.

You both stare at one another, you begin turning the dress inside out. Before you can slip your arms back into the holes he is once again ripping it out of your hands, grabbing your jaw instead.

“Your mine… I own you” he growls, smashing his lips to yours. A moment of weakness takes over and you kiss him back, reaching around his neck with both arms. “Wait Rafe no.. Rafe stop” you mumble pushing on his chest, he wasn’t going to get away with it again. “Fuck! Y/n, I love you okay! You're my girl.. your mine!”.

You forget how to breathe, staring at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t expected him to say he loved you. His thumb caresses your bottom lip, your breath fanning over him. “I love you to” you manage to squeak out, your lips are on each other again.

Your naked body pressing against his, his greedy fingers grab and pull at your skin. His fingers reach between you to cup your cunt, already dripping for him. “Just because I love you doesn’t mean I’m not going to punish you for letting fucking John B touch you!” He growls, biting down on your neck. You let out a squeal, legs opening just enough for his fingers to slip through and into your hole. “This pussy better be wet for me and not that fucking pogue” he states, his eyes have darkened with lust. His fingers roughly thrust deep into you, you let out a hiss when his thumb circles your throbbing clit. “Answer me”.

“It’s.. it’s wet for you Rafe!” You cry out, he drags his tongue down the length of your neck. Dropping just enough to enclose his mouth over your nipple, biting and sucking. You're trembling around him, nails digging deep into the skin of his shoulders. One of his hands holds your leg up, exposing your abused cunt to him.

“That’s it you dirty slut, fuck my hand. This is the only goddamn hand that’s going to be inside you until you die”

His fingers abruptly stop, pulling out of you sharply. The sound of your dripping cunt is heard over your gasp, your orgasm fizzles out leaving you high and dry. “Rafe! What the fuck!” You cry, he ignores you and begins taking his clothes off. His cock stands tall, he lets out a hiss when he fists the base. Pre cum drips down his hand, the tip is a deep red calling out to be sucked.

Your eyes meet again and he is quick to snatch you up, throwing you onto the bed like a rag doll. Moving your body so you were on all floors, ass up high and head down low. “I’m going to show you who fucking owns you and this sweet fucking pussy, do you understand me?”.

You're nodding your head furiously, your hair covering your face. A moment of sweetness he reaches down to gather your hair up and swipes it to the side exposing your face to him. That moment is quickly gone and he’s gripping your hips, he doesn’t give you a chance to steady yourself. Slamming his cock deep inside of you, no matter how many times you have fucked him he always stretches you out. Your cunt burns from the intrusion, his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. His own hips meet your ass roughly, his palm pushes against your back stopping you from looking back at him.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as he pounds into you, his cock hits so deep you think you can feel him in your guts. Your cries are muffled by the blanket, tears stream down your face as you chase your high once again. “Fuck your pussy never ceases to amaze me”.

His grip is tight and you're sure you’ll have bruises in the morning, he’s relentless, letting all his anger out on your pussy. “So fucking wet”.

His words just cause a waterfall between your legs, dripping all over his thick cock. “Fuck… Rafe! Fuck!”.

Your walls are sucking him deep, pulsating around him. “Please.. oh god please” you cry, you want to cum so bad it’s to the point of pain now. It’s stirring in your belly, toes curling and blacked out vision.

“Not yet”.

He’s pulling out of you again, clenching your pussy down on nothing. That orgasm so ready to explode fades away again, he grips your hair and pulls you from the bed. He manhandles you until you sit upon his lap, his cock teasing your lips. “Ride me”.

It’s an order, and an order you shall take. You're sliding down his cock, bouncing against him for dear life. “Fuck.. that’s it your dirty slut! Taking me like an angel but really you're the devil”.

He’s kissing upon your neck and chest, leaving behind dark red bruises. Marking you as Rafe Cameron’s girl. You did not care, you wanted everyone to know you were his girl. Your tits bounce, pussy swallowing him until you can’t tell where you start or he ends. Buried so deep within you, you feel full. “Such a Fucking perfect pussy hmm”.

“Yeah.. oh god Rafe! I can’t take it! Please please Rafe… please let me cum” you beg, gripping onto his shoulders as you bounce hard and fast. “Go on, cum on this cock. Show me how much you love me”.

You do as you're told, you chase that high. You chase it until blood drips down his shoulder blades, your body trembling above him. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ.. oh fuck! Oh my fuck—”.

You screams of pleasure can be heard from the first floor, your eyes squeezed shut, Rafe has to physically move you above him as you black out from the pleasure. His own release following, burying himself deep inside of you.

It takes you a few moments to come back to reality, your forehead pressed to his shoulder. Taking deep breaths to steady your heart rate, moving just enough to look him in the eye.

“You called me a slut” he’s quick to fall back into the usual Rafe he was when around you. “I didn’t mean it”.

“Good because if I’m a slut so are you… you let my friend suck your cock” raising your eyebrow up at him in amusement, he closes his eyes for a split second and looks back at you. “I think we are even”.

“Yeah alright, let’s call it even. So you do love me?”

“I do love you”

“Suppose I love you too”.

Tag list- @laylasbunbunny @h34rtsformilli @lydiasxxsworld @hallecarey1 @mountloverr @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @phoenixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @drewstarkeysbae @mrssturnioloo @darleneslane @tierra-0604 @xo-hayleyy-xo @ethereal0810 @eliana772 @gabys-gabs @applelovesposts @starkey-zegras @definitelynotholly-blog @renmpsworld @delicatepiratecloud @hdhdhsy @speedycomputerfury @tiacordelia02 @loverofdrewstarkey @bbycowboi @teresalesbian @imnotpretzelsstuff @its-ria-07 @jscameron @rafegirly (If you no longer want to be tagged please let me know and if you want to be tagged please let me know)

[zorrasucia]

Promptober 14. Somnophilia

from @carmenberzattosgf list

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (0.9k)

Tags: Smut, Porn with a little plot, Established Relationship, Sleepy Sex, Dry Humping, Fingering, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Carmy's hands were always busy cooking, chopping or drawing. When there was nothing to keep him occupied he tapped his fingers on the table, on the palm of his other hand, or, more recently, on your skin.

It helped release stress and to keep the bad thoughts at bay. You joked that you would learn Morse code to decipher the messages he kept sending, interlocking your fingers with his and soothing him as his index kept moving against the back of your hand. It even bled into his sleep. A couple of times, the restless brush of his fingers had woken you up, his index tapping your shoulder or the back of your neck as you held each other.

"Shhh," you soothed him, taking his hand in yours and kissing his knuckles until he calmed down in dreams.

Now that the nights were getting cooler, you always ended up intertwined in bed. Even when Carmy got back late from work, he had gotten surprisingly good at bringing you into his arms without waking you.

And so, here you were, your back to Carmy's chest, his nose exhaling on the side of your neck, his arms tight around you. None of this was out of the ordinary, even his left hand palming your breast for comfort - you found it quite endearing when it happened. Except his right hand was deep inside your pajama pants, cupping your pussy, his index tapping an anxious rhythm.

You stirred in your sleep. First it was a foggy sense of arousal - not exactly a wet dream, more tangible, like being woken up by Carmy with kisses. This was more urgent and constant, though. You were being teased and you wanted to chase for your release. Half asleep, you tilted your hips so that the steady tapping sensation was just above your mound, reverberating all the way to your clit.

The sound of your own moan woke you up.

Suddenly, you were hit with the reality of it, of Carmy's hands on you, his deep breaths letting you know that he was still asleep and not waking you up for sex - though that didn't seem like a terrible idea. You enjoyed the feeling of it for a little while, some of the urgency vanishing now that you had come to your senses. Would it be incredibly selfish to wake him up, and ask him to finger you properly? You remained still as you pondered, letting out pleased sounds every few breaths, his hand still gripping hard and stimulating enough to keep you on the brink of something. It was torture.

Perhaps it was how close you were together, or maybe the fact that your panties were starting to soak through but Carmy shifted and you could feel his half hard cock near your ass. There was no way you were going back to sleep now.

You raised your hand to caress his face and his hair, gently getting him to open his eyes.

"Carm, baby," you called, your voice lower, hoarser and needier than you expected it to sound.

"Mmm?" he pressed a kiss to your neck and another to your shoulder. "You okay?"

"Mhmm," you massaged his scalp sensually. "Woke up to this," you placed your hand over his. His tapping had stopped but he was still holding your pussy with a strong grip.

"Fuck," he sounded tired and soft. "Was holding your waist. Force of habit, I guess. 'm sorry"

"It's okay, baby," you soothed. "Nice way to wake up."

He chuckled into your hair, his exhale giving you goosebumps. "You're all wet," he mumbled, realizing it as he said it.

"You were doing the tapping thing too," you explained. "Kinda got me all worked up."

"Was thinking about you all day long. Might have something to do with that," he rasped, open mouthed kisses on the nape of your neck, his cock grinding against your ass.

"Carmy..." you gasped, leaning back, pressing against his erection.

He intertwined your fingers with his. "Guide my hand, baby. Where do you need me?"

You shoved his hand and yours inside your underwear, guiding his middle finger to your entrance.

"One?" he asked.

"Two. Need you so bad," you whined as his middle and ring fingers went inside you, stretching you out. Carmy used the grip he had on your breast to pull you closer still.

"Yes, fuck," he bit on your earlobe. "What d'you need, baby? Tell me."

"Can you-" it was almost embarrassing with how the night was turning out but you needed it. "Can you tap your thumb on my clit? Felt good."

He chuckled, amused, but he obliged immediately, a steady rhythm making you unravel in his arms.

"My God, Carmy," His hips were pushing harder against you, his needy breaths arousing you even more. You carded your hand through his curls. "Your fucking hands, baby..."

"Mhmm, want you to cum on my fingers," he rasped and you shook in his grasp, pussy squeezing him hard, keening as he reached his peak too.

He kissed the side of your face, panting and soothing your skin from his tight grip.

"Thank you," you exhaled. "Sorry for waking you."

"Love it when you wake me for shit like this," he slurred. "You can ride my hand too if I ever do that again."

"Hmm?" you swore you didn't hear him properly.

"You can use my hand if you ever need to," he said, nuzzling against the side of your neck. "It's where it belongs," he said, giving one last caress to your pussy before falling back asleep.

[yoredoesmore]

Okay I have a request with Hoshina Soshiro. So maybe some angst thing but fluff. Okay so since reader joined hoshina team she flirted with him, give him things , complement him yk? And he would mostly ignore her, give her extra training ANYTHING to make her go away cuz he didn't want to lose her on mission (dangerous job) but she didn't know that. So it lasted for like long time and a new member joined and he started to flirt with reader, give her flowers itp. And she unfortunately thought that making hoshina love her is like against his own will. She doesn't want to be a b so she leaves him alone. And he doesn't like that at all? I love that kind of fanfic. 🎀

Words cannot describe how much i love this request!! thank you so much for this, i hope you enjoy what i came up with!!

Attention | Hoshina Soshiro

pairing: jealous!hoshina soshiro x reader

summary: you stop giving hoshina your attention and he doesn't like that at all.

genre: romance/angst/jealousy/fluff | [wc: 3.3k ]

a/n: my very first request (so exciting!!) i hope i do your wishes justice! hoshina is kinda mean in this one, lol ^^

enjoy!

“Vice Captain Hoshina!” You chimed in an enthusiastic voice, your body moving over to the man's disappearing figure. The vice captain did not even bother to turn around, nor halt in his footsteps as he heard you approach him. Even as you finally catched up, his gaze remained focused on the scene ahead.

“Today's mission went surprisingly well, don't you think!” Excitement hung in your voice, even as Vice Captain Hoshina remained unbothered by your presence. You were all too used to his unbothered demeanor, his avoiding gazes and the lingering silence, therefore you did what you always did in these situations– keep the conversation alive.

“But honestly, with you as our Vice Captain I didn't expect anything else–”

“Your movements towards the end of the battle were sloppy and unprofessional. Talking about a successful mission, tsk, is there nothing else but air in your head? You could have seriously gotten hurt.” His voice was sharp and mocking but the worst part was, it stung.

It has been a little over a year since you joined the Third Division. Despite all your attempts of building a healthy relationship between you and the Vice Captain, nothing much has changed so far. All the compliments, all the gifts and hard work– none of them had been able to bring change to your chemistry. And watching him turn into this jolly ball of joy when talking to the other cadets definitely didn't make you feel better either. It sometimes discouraged you from continuing this sad pursuit of his attention, but only sometimes.

“Seriously, If you wanna stay in this division and continue being part of these missions you gotta be better than that. What even happened back there?!’

A strong force rushed through your lungs, your mind recalling the last minutes of battle. It silenced you immediately.

A Yoju had appeared right behind your exhausted figure, catching you off guard. In any normal situation you would have drawn your weapon at light speed and blast right through the monster but something had stopped you.

The Vice Captain himself.

Nobody else saw it, how could they have– Vice Captain Hoshina did his best to conceal his little mistake. But you took notice of it, of the Vice Captain actually missing his target. It was unexpected to say the least, distracting as well. But the Kaiju blood that ran down his face, temporarily took his vision and that caused his momentum to shift. He lost his balance for a split second and let the Yoju escape from his weapon. He immediately caught up with the monster but the worry that engulfed your stomach was enough to temporarily cause your brain to shut down.

If it hadn't been for Reno calling you back into reality you would have seriously gotten hurt indeed.

“I apologize Cap–”

“Don't bother.” And with that said he left the scene, joining the others in a discussion of how to proceed with the mission.

“Are you alright Y/n..?” Shinomiya approached you, her gentle hand finding its way on your shoulders.

“Yes, I'm alright. Guess he wasn't in the mood to talk, haha..”

This was just one of many failed attempts of you trying to charm Hoshina.

About a week later you were wandering through the hallways of Tachikawa Base. The sun had long kissed the world goodnight, leaving only the dimmed light of the moon to illuminate the building. Sleep was unable to find you, thus you decided to take a short stroll around the building.

It calmed you, watching the stars live in perfect harmony with the moon. They were able to enjoy its presence, even from a distance– just like you were still able to appreciate Hoshina.

He wasn't all that bad honestly. What happened a week ago was a rare occasion, he only got worked up like that when you gave a sloppy performance during a mission.

Perhaps he just wanted you to improve? One could view your way of thinking as delusional, yes, but you preferred to think that you were just optimistic.

On your way back to your dorm you heard subtle sounds in the distance. A few grunts here and some equipment being moved there. Allowing curiosity to take the best of you, you investigated the strange noise. What you found left you shocked and motionless.

The Vice Captain was up and about in the training room, moving in ways you have so rarely seen him in. His body became one with his weapon, it was as if they molded into one to perform something magical. Seeing him in action, in his element, it reminded you why you still chased after Hoshina. He was just perfect in every single aspect, from looks to abilities. You watched him just a little longer, until you decided to step back and return to your dorm to not get into any trouble for being up so late.

“And where do you think you're going?” A single sentence from his lips was enough for your body to become imobile. The Vice Captain was the scariest during battles, when neutralizing Kaiju, everybody knew that. But whatever vibe he was emitting right now, it felt just as dangerous. With each step he took towards your body you could feel your limbs grow weaker and weaker.

“It's quite disrespectful to stare. And on top of that you're walking around past the curfew. Honestly Y/n, it's starting to get annoying.”

“I apologize. I couldn't sleep, that's why I–”

“Give me 50.” Hoshina interrupted you, turning back around to collect his things.

“I..are you serious?” The last thing you wanted was to sound disrespectful, but his cold demeanor was starting to affect you in a way you had hoped it never would.

His body bent forward to grab both his katana and zip jacket. For only a moment his eyes met yours.

“Yes. And while you're already at it, try working on your reflexes and stealth as well, I could hear you from miles away. Your mistakes of last week's battle could have cost you your life. Don't let it happen again."

His gaze fell onto the ground and his grip on the jacket tightened. Like always you were unable to make out what concrete emotions he was hiding behind those eyes but his voice pretty much gave away what state he was currently in.

He was pissed.

As Hoshina walked towards the exit, he made sure to throw one last look at you. You didn't notice it but even if you had, it would have made no sense to you..

The following weeks continued to all look the same. While you were trying your best to uphold a positive attitude towards the Vice Captain, it felt like he was distancing himself further and further away from you. Even the other cadets were starting to wonder when you were finally going to move on and give up.

“Hoshina!” You exclaimed cheerfully, waving at the man. “I hope you had a great weekend. I'm looking forward to today's work!”

Like always he just passed you by, not even bothering to give you anything else than a roll of his eyes or a nod (when he was feeling generous).

Even when you left little notes for him or small treats on his desk, you would always later on find them in the trash.

“Wanna go out and drink something together?”

“No.”

“Excuse me, but could you please help me with–”

“I'm busy.”

“Why wasn't I called in to participate at the weapon testing–”

“Because.”

This went on for a couple more months, until a certain someone brought you back to reality.

“Please welcome Tanaka Yosuke, the newest addition to our team.”.

Tanaka was an interesting guy. He was sweet and nice and always had something positive about you to say. On missions he would have your back and even off the battlefield he would make you feel warm and welcomed. Being with him made you realize just how much attention you actually deserved and maybe even how much you wasted on Hoshina. Tanaka made you appreciate how nice it felt to be sought out for once.

Your words did not pass him by, nor did any of your actions go unnoticed by his attentive eyes. He was someone you were able to feel comfortable around.

“Y/n!” His voice immediately caused a smile to appear on your face. Tanaka stood in front of you, a playful grin shining right back at you as he approached your seated body. You were at the base’s cafeteria, enjoying a simple meal by yourself. After another failed attempt of talking to the Vice Captain you believed that you deserved a little treat.

“I got you something.” He spoke, hands reaching into the small bag he brought with him.

A sharp breath escaped your lips and a feeling so fuzzy engulfed your heart it almost knocked you off the chair.

“Look, aren't these flowers beautiful.” White Lilies swayed in the wind, brought by the Kaiju’s collapse. Only this group of flowers had stayed untouched from the destruction, maintaining their beauty.

You had made one little remark about the flowers but here this man was, surprising you with a whole bouquet of them. As your fingers grazed over the soft petals a thought suddenly occurred in your head.

What if Hoshina genuinely disliked you?

It wasn't a brand new discovery. Vice Captain Hoshina not being a fan of yours was quite obvious, yet you thought that his opinion about you could be swayed if you tried hard enough, like in movies. But seeing him dodge you like a bullet and going out of his way to hurt your feelings..maybe you were a bother after all..

Spending more time with Tanaka and less around the Vice Captain felt strange. You wondered if he noticed or if he even cared about the lack of your presence. The thought occupied your mind even while you were looking at your gift.

But did that mean that you like Tanaka..? Despite being a sweet guy, all you saw in him was a comrade who you could call a good friend. No one could ever compare to the Hoshina that you met years ago, before you joined the decision. The sweet man who saved you that day..the man you fell in love with.

“These flowers are beautiful, Tanaka.” But that didn't change the fact that Tanaka's eyes were different. They looked at you, not past or beyond, they stared right at you and made sure to perceive you.

“Not as beautiful as the one who is holding them..”

For a brief moment you felt your heart skip a beat, Tanaka's words melting on your ears like butter. While you were losing yourself in this warm feeling you didn't notice the person who was lingering behind the wall, watching the scene unfold with sharp eyes.

“Tsk..”

×

“That new guy, what's his name again?” Hoshina rested his body against one of the bookshelves, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the Captain arrange some files.

“You mean Tanaka Yosuke? What's with him?” Mina's gaze remained on the countless sheets of papers in front of her, only moving up once to give the man a questioning look.

“Something about him seems off, I don't like the guy.”

“Oh please.” The woman finally averted her attention to her friend, a smug smile hanging on her lips.

“You're just mad that Y/n is paying him attention, much more than you recently.” The last part of that sentence came out as a mumble yet Hoshina’s sharp ears picked up on Mina's remark.

“As if.” Hoshina scoffed. “It's just, he is always dragging Y/n to the front of every battle and acts as if he has known her for ages.”

“You want him to act like you? Cold and ignorant, even after knowing that she is one of the sweetest people around.” Although Mina tried to add a playful touch to her voice, the backlash of her words stayed strong.

“Everybody knows that Y/n is, or maybe now was, head over heels for you– yes even I picked up on that. Yet for some reason you are a complete asshole to the poor girl. But now that she has decided to stop paying you that special kind of attention you want to complain and talk about some "I miss her” and what not. Give me a break.”

Hearing these words come out of the Captain's mouth felt like a strong jab to the side. Hoshina found himself unable to respond, react in any way, really. Like a block of ice he stood motionless in the room, mouth slightly open.

“Play with a girl's heart for too long and she will leave you in the past. You men have the audacity to treat the woman who cares for you like trash and ignore her but get upset when she starts showing affection to another man who actually treats her right, how childish.”

A paper ball suddenly came flying towards Hoshina’s head. He let the crumbled item hit his skull. His eyes followed it as it bounced off his head and fell to the ground, rolling around for a little longer until it eventually stopped moving. A strange taste now sat in his mouth. It was bitter yet blunt, how irritating..

"Whatever reason you have to act this way, just stop. Tell Y/n face to face how you actually feel and give that poor thing a break for gods sake."

×

The day came to an end rather quickly today. Only hours ago you were out with Tanaka, enjoying some time together and now you were already headed to bed. But before you decided to tell the world goodnight you had to make one quick stop at the base's library.

There was a book about flowers Tanaka gave you that you wanted to lend out, to be able to properly tent your gift. But as you searched through the countless isles, too concentrated on quickly finding the copy, a loud noise suddenly pulled you back to reality.

“Vice Captain..” You stuttered, startled by Hoshinas' sudden appearance. The man stood in front of you, his usual nonchalant expression printed on his face. You were ready to apologize for being out this late once again but before you were even able to open your mouth you were silenced.

“You've been avoiding me..” He spoke in such a low tone you almost didn't hear him.

“I've been…what?”

“You've been avoiding me, Y/n.” Hoshina took a step forward, invading a fraction of your personal space. A gasp slipped from your lips but he continued to stare you down.

“Well..I was under the impression that I was bothering you, Vice Captain, so I backed down a li–”

“Now you can't even say my name anymore?” Another step was taken towards your direction.

Hoshina's playful demeanor had completely disappeared, all that was left was a stoic facade. But something about the way he positioned himself above you, his sharp eyes looking down at your frame as if they were guarding you– it fell off. Despite appearing cold and upset, he somehow seemed..vulnerable?

“I really don't understand what is going on here. I thought you didn't like me?”

It seemed like Hoshina wanted to say something along the lines of “what gave you that idea” but he quickly realized that those words would have not helped him at all. Thus he remained silent for a while, his arms crossing over his chest as his gaze fell onto the wall.

“That Tanaka guy, is he your latest obsession?”

“Excuse me?” You mildly snapped. “Yosuke is a friend of mine, a very nice guy and an amazing fighter.” Hearing you speak his first name so casually caused a nerve to snap in Hoshina’s body.

“He is a completely irresponsible guy if you ask me. Dragging you out to the front of every battle, making you fight all these Yoju– it's like he's setting you up for injuries.” As if the Vicevice Captain's words didn't irritate you enough, he had the audacity to add a scoff, leaving you confused and slightly vexed.

“Orrr maybe he just trusts in my abilities. But with all respect sir, what are you talking about? Are you here to hand out another punishment or is this some type of joke, pretending to suddenly care about me and all..” Silence hushed over the space as your question stayed unanswered. It was beyond obvious that your words triggered something in Hoshina but you didn't know what it was. The lack of a conversation allowed you to reflect on past interactions. Despite hish harsh words, this was the third time that the Vice Captain has mentioned you potentially getting hurt during battle.

Was he maybe..

“I apologize for my tone..” You suddenly sighed.

“But Vice Captain Hoshina, I think I have made it quite clear that I..that I like you yet you don't seem even the tiniest bit interested in me. Which is okay, I get it, but how come that now that i'm finally leaving you alone, you all of a–”

The door to the library suddenly swung open, cutting you off mid sentence.

“Y/n?” Tanaka called out, looking around the empty space.

Hoshina had reacted before you could even realize what was going on. The Vice Captain quickly pulled you into his embrace, so that your back rested against his chest, and placed his hands over your mouth. The mild sensation you felt only moments ago in your stomach now fully exploded, causing a strong heat to rush through your body.

“Weird..the others told me that she would be here..” Tanaka looked around one last time before turning off the lights and closing the door behind him. You thought that Hoshina would let you go but his grip around your waist stayed strong.

“Y/n..” He lowered his face to softly talk into your ear. Something inside the man felt relieved. Now that you were both standing in complete darkness, unable to see each other, he could finally confess what was on his mind.

“As a Vice Captain it is my duty to charge head first into battle, despite knowing that I could die any second. You are persistent by nature, I saw that during our first encounter a couple years ago, so the thought of you being stubborn enough to follow me on the battlefield and potentially getting hurt always haunted me. I..I tried getting rid of you to prevent that from happening and during the process I must have hurt you a lot and I am so sorry. I kept ignoring you because being close to you..it made it so fucking difficult to not–”

Hoshina stopped himself from continuing that sentence and let go of you, his body's heat becoming too overwhelming. With every second your eyes adjusted more and more to the darkness, until you were properly able to see him.

“Don't run after any other man when I'm right here, Y/n..”

“Hoshina..”

You could only see fragments of it but Hoshina was smiling. Hearing you finally drop the formalities made him happier than it should.

All this time, the man you thought hated you for purely existing had a special spot in his heart reserved just for you. It felt weird, being perceived by him, but at the same time there was no sweeter feeling.

“I don't know if I can just forgive you yet..” You joked. “It's gonna take a lot more than just your words to make me forget the months of blatant disrespect.”

“Don't play around too much now.” The man pulled you back into his embrace. One arm tightly held you by the waist while the other pretended to pull on your ear. For a short moment the two of you laughed together, until he suddenly spoke in a more serious tone.

“Please keep your eyes on me, don't look away.” One of his hands wrapped around yours to pull it up to his face. Hoshina's soft lips ran over your fingers, placing a strong kiss on your hand. Then his eyes fell on yours, locking your gazes.

“I'm yours, Y/n. You don't need anyone else as long as I'm here so please continue to give me your attention. It gets me going like nothing else, hearing your adorable voice and seeing how much effort you put into every fight. Fuck” He chuckled, the other hand now cupping your right cheek.

“You don't know how long I had to hold myself back. But now that the truth's out, I can finally show you just how crazy you make me.”

[sanguineterrain]

Sanne can we get a part 2 for reporter!reader?? Picking up where it first left off their first night in the same home - and there's only 1 bed! - and reader shares the bed with him with the promise of not looking at his unmasked face in the middle of the night? And like them realizing over the next few days that they have very similar habits like tendencies to work throughout the night once they've got a lead and not having a set sleep schedule/unconventional sleeping hours.

OKAY HERE WE GO! be fed my lovelies <3 didn't exactly do one bed but hopefully you like it anyway ;) pt 2 of this

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. nightmares, hurt/comfort, jason sexy mf todd being a domestic dreamboat. 2.4k. pls enjoy

****

The Red Hood's apartment is... not at all what you expected.

It looks lived in. It, as awful a thought as it is, looks like an actual person lives here.

And it's not that you didn't know that Hood has a life outside of shooting and scaring, but the giant ficus and the overstuffed bookshelf seem paradoxical to everything you know about Hood.

You're realizing that you don't know him at all.

"So, uh." Hood awkwardly gestures to the apartment. "This is it. Welcome."

"It's nice," you say, stepping over the threshold. "Really nice. I'm a little jealous, Red."

"What can I say? Being public enemy number one is surprisingly lucrative."

You wander to the kitchen. There's a picture of him and a red-headed masked man who looks vaguely familiar. The man is smiling, his arm around Hood. There's a city skyline behind them you don't recognize.

"Where's that?" you ask. You don't expect him to answer.

"Morocco."

"I didn't know you had friends," you say, studying the Welcome to Vegas! magnet that's holding up the picture.

"Ouch."

"No, I—" You turn, shaking your head. "Sorry, no. I meant, like, people you do fun things with."

"Mm, yeah, I know what a friend is."

"Red, you know what I mean. I didn't know you took selfies and kept plants and read."

"Thought I was friendless and illiterate, huh?" He leans against the kitchen table, fist tucked under his helmet. "Y'wouldn't be the first."

"Hood—"

He snorts, shoulders shaking. You stop.

"That's not funny," you say, rolling your eyes. "Jerk."

"It's a little funny. You're always so sharp with your words, smartypants. No, while I'm very literate, friends are admittedly far and few. Arsenal's my closest friend."

"Is he also a crime lord?"

"Nah. Way better guy than me."

You look back at the picture and wonder how often Hood gets to experience joy. And when was the last time he had a vacation?

You feel a gentle tug at the back of your jacket.

"C'mon. You can snoop more later, promise. Lemme show you your room."

Hood takes your suitcase before you can protest. You follow him down the hall. There's one door to the bathroom—the other is to a single bedroom.

The bedroom is nice, bigger than yours at home. It's sort of what you expected (i.e., the mounted katanas on the wall) but also not (a giant framed poster of the 2005 Pride and Prejudice film).

Holy hell. You're in the Red Hood's bedroom.

"Hood, I can't sleep here," you say, watching as he puts your suitcase in the corner.

The bed has been made, sheets tucked in without a single wrinkle. They're in various shades of red. You're sure Hood thinks he's hilarious.

"Why? If the swords are putting you off, I can move 'em."

"No, it's—I can't take your room, Hood. There's no way I'm doing that."

He shakes his head. "No, trust me, it's for the best. That couch is only comfortable to sleep on after a dose of painkillers."

"Dude, I am not making you sleep on the couch in your own house."

"Well, dude, I'm the host, and I'm the big and scary Red Hood, so what I say goes."

"Like either one of us actually believes that," you say, brushing past him to grab your suitcase. "I'm not kicking you out of your bed. It's–it's very sweet of you to offer. But you physically exert yourself every day. You need a comfortable bed more than I do. Besides, it's not like I'll be here for long."

Hood steps in front of you, casually blocking your exit.

"Well, try this on for size: my room is more secure than my living room," he says. "If someone were to break in, they'd have to get through me out there first."

That... is, unfortunately, a good point. You're still extremely paranoid after the assassination attempt two nights ago.

"You're so manipulative, y'know that?" you grumble, leaving your suitcase where it is.

"I know. I come from a real fucked up family." He doesn't sound too put out by it.

"But if you get injured on patrol, I'm sleeping on the couch."

He pats your shoulder. "'S cute you think you can bargain in my house, smarty."

****

Dinner goes well. Hood makes beef bolognese and it's delicious. You take an extra long time in the bathroom before bed so Hood has enough time to eat, considering his refusal to remove his helmet. You'd offered to blindfold yourself—he'd just laughed.

"Sure you don't want your room? It is, after all, yours," you say when you come out, fresh from your shower.

Hood glances at you briefly from where he's washing dishes. He's out of his jacket and suit, now only in jeans and a white t-shirt. Your face feels hot for some reason.

"I'm sure. Cute robe."

"Oh." You look down at the Wonder Woman robe your friend gave you. "Thanks. Got it for my birthday."

"I'll have to get myself one too," Hood says, drying a glass with a polka dot tea towel. "Big Wonder Woman fan."

"Yeah? We solve this case, and I'll get you all the robes you want, Red."

"Tempting."

You chew your lip as you watch him clean up. "Want any help?"

"Go to sleep, star reporter." He sounds amused.

"You try to be a polite guest only to get shot down..." you mumble.

On your way to Hood's room, you get distracted by a pile of documents on the coffee table. You stop, picking up the corner to read one. They're about the case, about all the labs that might be involved in the experiments.

Well... you can read just one. It seems like Hood's compiled a lot of information on his own.

You stand for a bit until your legs grow tired. Then you sit on the couch, making notes of what you do and don't know on a nearby writing pad.

"Did you get lost?"

Hood's watching you, leaning against the wall. It's weird to see his bare arms. His very sculpted, muscled arms. You think you peek a tattoo on his bicep.

"My attention was caught," you say, unrepentant. "Anyway, there's a lot of stuff I haven't seen. You've been holding out on me, Red."

"'S just theories, mostly. Didn't feel it was relevant to mention without hard proof."

"Ever hear of a work-life balance?" you ask.

Hood walks over and joins you on the couch, making the cushion dip. You bump shoulders briefly, before you move.

"Look who's talking, Pulitzer prize," he says.

"That's a very reasonable goal, and I'm not obsessed with it. You're just a workaholic. I have activities outside of wo—oh my God, work!"

You shoot up from the couch, panicked. "Fuck. Fuck! I haven't shown up in two days! I'm—"

"Hey, easy," Hood says, propping his socked feet up on the coffee table. "I called you out. Said you had the flu. No biggie."

"How did you call me out?"

He shrugs. "Pretended to be your boyfriend. Girl on the line was kinda rude about it. Didn't believe me at first."

"Red, I believe we've talked about these invasions of privacy."

"I'm just fulfilling my host duties. Is it true you haven't taken a day off in two years?"

You sigh. "Yes, okay? Fine. I'm a workaholic, too. That's why Jane, the secretary you spoke to, was so sassy about my having a boyfriend. It's pretty unbelievable."

"That's ridiculous. You could totally get a boyfriend. Some guys don't mind that."

"Like you?"

Hood tilts his head in acknowledgment. "Sure. Like me."

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly most men."

"And thank God for that."

You look at each other for another moment. Hood's tattoo is in clear view now: it's a bird surrounded by flowers. You can't tell the species of either one.

"Cool tattoo," you say, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth.

Hood turns his arm so the ink is hidden. "Thanks."

"Right." You start to walk backwards. "I think... I'm gonna go to bed."

"Sure," he says. "If y'need anything, holler."

"'Kay. Thank you for dinner. You're a great cook."

"You flatterer."

You smile. "Gotta stay in the Red Hood's good graces."

You start to walk away.

"Do you—waffles?"

You stop and turn. "Sorry?"

"I, uh... do you like waffles? For breakfast," he says. He rubs his thumb and forefinger together. Nervous habit.

"I love waffles for breakfast."

Hood nods. "Great. Good. Then I'll... we'll have those."

"Please don't wake up early just to make breakfast, Red."

"You're my guest. I'll do whatever I want."

You don't recall the prospect of waffles ever making your heart hammer in your chest. Weird.

"Right. Well, goodnight," you say.

"G'night, smarty."

****

You turn the case details in your mind over and over. It's better than thinking about beef bolognese and peeks of skin you shouldn't see and how Hood's sheets smell like lavender.

But you fall asleep thinking about robins. You don't know why. You can't recall ever seeing a robin in Gotham.

You're on a rooftop. It's the roof you met Hood on, all those months ago. There's a robin nesting with its babies on the crumbling bricks.

The sky is a sick shade of green. You see horrible faces in the shadows on the roof.

That face from the night of the attack returns. He's hideous. You remember the stench of his breath, the way his eyes bulged. He grins at you across the roof.

"He should've killed me when he had the chance," he says, voice distorted.

You look around. The robin is gone. Blood drips from your stomach.

You turn and your attacker is there, inches away. He plunges the knife into you again and again. You can't move. This is it. You will die.

You wake up to wet cheeks. You're hot, and you're screaming. You've died.

A cool, rough hand grabs your arm and you fight because you can't die, you won't die. Not today.

"Hey. Hey, hey! It's me, 's J—Hood. It's Hood."

The room is almost entirely dark, save for a sliver of light from the cracked curtains. You can't make out his face. His voice is different. Clearer. He's without his helmet.

You reach out and feel soft hair. The curve of a neck. A bicep. A warm, bare chest.

"Sure, honey. Cop a feel if that makes you feel better," he murmurs.

Your face screws up and you start to cry.

"Shit," Hood whispers. "Shit, shit. Can't get the comforting thing right, can I?"

The bed dips with his weight. Arms wrap around you. You launch yourself into those arms, that solid chest.

"He g-got me in the dream," you choke out. "He killed us, Red. I'm so scared."

"Nobody's getting me or you. I promise."

Hood's jaw is smooth. His hands are big on your back, rubbing circles. His bare knee bumps yours.

You clutch him tighter. He hums.

"'S okay," he says. "It's alright. I got ya. He can't hurt you. I'd tear apart anyone who tries."

He lets you cry for several minutes, petting you all the while. Hood's body is warm, almost unnaturally so, but his hands are cool. He engulfs you completely.

You wonder what color his hair is. His eyes. What shape his nose is. His... lips.

"God, I'm a terrible guest," you mumble after you've caught your breath. "Fuck. I'm so sorry to wake you."

He hums, the sound going through your chest. "Don't worry. I don't sleep much. And you're not the worst guest I've had. My brother stayed with me for a few days last month. That was hell."

"You have a brother?"

"Four, actually. And a sister."

"Wow. Do they know you're...?"

"Yeah. It was a whole thing. They're over it now."

"Cool family."

Hood grunts. "They're... something."

You smile and close your eyes. "You're not who I thought you were, Red."

"Yes, I know. Friendless and illiterate."

You pinch his side. He clucks his tongue in response.

"Cheeky," he says, the gravel in his voice shooting down your spine like lightning.

You pull back, suddenly aware of how long you've been touching him. Hood lets you have your space, scooting to the edge of the bed.

"You know what I mean," you say, glad it's dark and Hood can't see your wide eyes. "Not like that."

"I know. You thought I was a monster, ugly and alone, sleeping in a cave."

Blindly, you reach for his face, feel the shape of his jaw, his chin.

"Doesn't feel like an ugly face to me," you say quietly.

He exhales like you punched the air out of him.

"Trust me," he says. "The dark hides a lot."

You frown and pull away. "I didn't think any of those things, Red. I thought... I thought you were one-track minded. Now I realize that you're probably better adjusted than I am."

"Oh no, I got issues. Believe me. Definitely more than you. Not that it's a competition. 'Cept if it was, I'd win."

You smile. "Title is all yours, big guy. Gotta be a little crazy to do what we do."

"Sure. But you're the bravest soul I know. 'Cause you weren't forced into this. You hunted down the story yourself."

"Brave or stupid?" you ask.

"Brave. But it's a fine line."

Nope. It's definitely more stupid than not, clinging to the Red Hood in his own bed in the name of a case.

What are you doing?

"Ah, anyway." The bed shifts as Hood stands. You can just barely make out the shape of him. "You probably won't be going back to sleep any time soon, huh?"

You sigh. "No, probably not. Please feel free to take back your bed."

"Nice try. You, uh... like hot chocolate?"

"Oh. Yes, I do. But you don't have to do that."

"I've been awake," he says. "No trouble. C'mon."

Hood walks to the door and opens it. Light spills out and for a moment, you have a clear view of his back.

His hair is dark and wavy. His back is covered in silver scars and fresh bruises, broad and muscled. You can see the tendons shift as he walks out.

The Red Hood is a man. Made of flesh and blood. Carved, more like.

Your belly flutters. Fuck.

This is no longer just you working a case. And you're about as far from an informant as anyone can be.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddie-spooktober day 17: hayride | T | wc: 1,306

tags: strangers to lovers, confident eddie munson, farmhand eddie munson, pickup lines, getting together

“Alright folks, watch your step getting off– lemme help you down, ma’am, there you go–last ride of the night! Who’s gettin’ on?” 

The man finishes off his speech and looks around at the designated ride loading area, “Just you then sir?”

Steve casts a look around for the man the driver (in an extremely well-fitting cowboy getup and dark leather hat too) must be talking to, ready to hold up his own hand to indicate to Hot Cowboy that the other man is not, in fact, alone for the ride.

But there’s no other man.

Steve is the ‘Sir’ in question.

Oh god.

“Oh god,” Steve echoes aloud, “I didn’t realize I was the only one, please, no need to bother with a last ride, I’m sure you want to get home too.”

Hot Cowboy looks down at him from the driver’s seat (does the bench of a hay cart have a driver’s seat?), then around at the lack of other people.

“Would you like a ride?”

Surely he didn’t mean it that way, but Steve’s cheeks flush a bit nonetheless, “Well I do, but—”

“Then hop aboard, stranger, only a bit of sun left in the day.”

Steve suddenly can’t tell if the accent is just for show or not.

“No, really, I’ll come back another day,” he says, backing away, “I just wanted to go today since it’s my birth– nevermind, I’m not going to hold you up for just me.”

“How ‘bout this, you get on, and I’ll drive us and the lovebirds here to the barn.” he says, gesturing to the two horses hitched to the cart, an all black, and a sandy sort of brown one. “Short, sweet, everyone gets what they want.”

Steve blinks, “That’s uh.. Yeah. Okay.”

Hot Cowboy grins at him, happy where Steve thought there’d be annoyance. “Great! C’mon in then, the hay’s great!”

“You sure? I think it’s gonna be pokey and itchy.” Steve jokes nervously, climbing the stationary steps up to the cart.

This orchard’s hay rides are a bit different than others Steve’s been to in his life; there were no bales of hay, just a large (slightly trodden now) pile of hay in the back of an ancient-looking cart.

“Promise. Now lay back and get comfy big boy, we got a bit of a ride to the barn.”

Steve did as he was told, all the while Hot Cowboy watched him carefully step into the cart.

Once he was in and settled back so he was reclined against the pile of hay, facing back off the open end of the cart, Hot Cowboy clicked his tongue, snapped the reins, and they were off.

Almost immediately the soft rocking and teetering of the cart lulled him calmer. The wear the day had taken on him, extra annoying since it was piled on when he’d been trying to take a half day for his birthday, seeping deeper into his bones with every squeak of a wheel.

There was a shift of clothes, then: “Long day, huh?”

“Hm?” Steve opened his eyes again, not really knowing when he’d closed them in the first place, “Oh, yeah.. lots piled onto me unexpectedly.” He shrugged, not knowing if Hot Cowboy was even still looking back at him to see, “It happens.”

The other man hummed an agreement, and for a while, It was quiet. Steve stared drowsily up at the ever-purpling sky above him, cut over every now and again by the thin bare branches of the trees on either side of their path, and counted the stars as they appeared.

Every once in a while, Hot Cowboy would let out a short, low whistle, or a hushed, “Hey!”, or “Quit nipping at him, Sandy!” to the horses.

After a whole, surprisingly bright, thirteen stars made their appearance, Hot Cowboy again spoke to him. “So, no other plans for your birthday than to come hang out with lil’ ol’ me?”

Steve tipped his head backward and half into the pile of hay to look upside down at the back of the other man. And only now realizing he had a long, dark braid tied out under the back of his hat.

”How’d you know it was my birthday?”

”You started to say so earlier,” he says, glancing back at Steve with a smile. He looks back to the path, “No wife or girlfriend to spend it with?”

Smooth. Steve thinks, smiling to himself, then says “My best friend and I are doing Late Birthday when she comes back from a work trip in a couple days, but other than that, you’re it, partner.”

Hot Cowboy snorts a laugh at Steve’s admittedly very bad accent, then, just to tease the cowpoke, Steve says, “And no boyfriend either.”

Another snort, “Good to know, sweetheart.”

They lapse into silence again, and next thing he knows, someone is nudging his shoulder.

Steve snaps upright, jackknifing his butt deeper into the hay under him. It’s much darker now, and as his eyes adjust, he realizes they’re in the barn already.

"Hey, whoa, sorry to wake you.” He looks over to the voice, Hot Cowboy is looking at him concerned. His hat gone, his hair loose now, “You okay?”

“Yeah.. yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that.” Steve says, rubbing his eyes then instinctively running his fingers through his hair for any stray strands of straw.

”No worries sweetheart,” The accent was for show after all, it seems, since it was gone enough to be noticeable when he continues on to say “D’ya need a hand?”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Steve reaches for his hand, off to the side of the cart, which Hot cowboy grabs and uses as leverage to swing a leg over the side and straddle the low wall.

For some unknown reason, that’s the thing that Did It for Steve.

The smoothness of the motion, the tight squeak of the denim as he sits and his leg stretches beneath the fabric, the solid clump the heel of his boot makes when it makes contact with the cart bed…. no matter which it was, his sudden desire for this dusty, probably sweaty, stranger gets the better of him and Steve hauls Hot Cowboy toward him instead. He lands on Steve with an “Oomph!” and a quickly brightening face only a hair's breadth away from his.

“Care to go for a roll in the hay?” Steve asks in a low tone, nudging Hot Cowboy’s nose gently with his own.

Two seconds pass, each one seeming to take only a fraction of itself and an eon to pass before Steve is trying his damndest to squirm away, apologizing profusely as he does.

”Oh my god, oh my god! I am so so sorry, holy shit, I don’t know what came over me I—“

Hot Cowboy’s fingers press against his lips, cutting off the flow of apologies.

”Let me process for a moment, Jesus H. Christ.” Another four of five eons pass, the other man’s face slowly draining of it’s excess color before: “As much as I want to say yes, and believe me, I want, I’d rather not traumatize my Uncle’s horses..”

Oh my god this is his farm. His Uncle’s farm. Fresh hot embarrassment floods into Steve’s face and gullet.

Hot Cowboy notices the change and smiles, “How ’bout this big boy, you tell me your name, I tell you mine, then we find convenient excuses to make out all the way back to your car. Sound like a plan?”

Steve nods vigorously and Hot Cowboy removes his fingers. ”I’m Steve.” he blurts as soon as they’ve gone.

Hot Cowboy grins lopsidedly at him, putting the accent on again to say, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Stevie. The name’s Eddie, but you can call me the man of your dreams.”

like almost always, graphics are from @saradika-graphics!

[deadghosy]

Mattheo, Theodore, Lorenzo x male reader (Group/poly)

Where they’re werewolves? — super protective & scenting their mate all the time

WEREWOLF! MATTHEO, THEODORE & LORENZO X MALE! READER

You didn’t know how this happened. All you did was be yourself around your housemates in Slytherin. Not knowing 3 of them were werewolves, and now. You’re their mate. Their scent all over you, always are around you. They look like bodyguards as mattheo and Theodore are by your side while as Lorenzo is behind you when walking to class or anywhere.

Some might say you are very protected, which is true. Your boys love you well to the point they get kinda aggressive when they deem someone as a threat to the relationship the four of you have. Mattheo almost got a boy into a coma, all because the student didn’t “back off”. Theodore goes with verbal abuse and confrontation. He knows how to scare people away. And then there’s Lorenzo who’s a devil in disguise. Doing small little curses at the person. Making them go crazy.

Sometimes you can’t even catch your own breath around those 3. When relaxing in the common room, mattheo is on your left, Theodore is on your right, and Lorenzo is just sitting in front of your legs and in between them. His head leaning back so you could scratch his scalp. The boys are always begging for you to scratch their scalp. The way you do it just makes them wanna claim you all over again.

When you scratch mattheo, his head is all in your neck. Pressing soft kisses, he’ll even do small nips at it as he rubs your hips. For when you scratch Theodore, his tall body is leaning down on you. Making you having to lay on something as Theodore is literally rubbing his face in your neck. Masking his scent again on you over, and over. Lorenzo is slightly tamed as he just smile while giving your wrist soft kisses. Your boys love you very well.

Sometimes you play little jokes on them. Mattheo would try to find you when you had sprayed your fragrance you use a lot on a hoodie so you can trick the riddle werewolf that you were in your room. When really you were outside in the yard. Mattheo found you an hour later and was absolutely touch starved. Immediately hugging you and kissing your face with those beautiful eyes of his tracking your whole body to make sure you were okay.

Lorenzo is practically the most softest of them all. He’s the one who follows you the most. Rubbing your stomach when lying down together, holding your hands.

And when the full moon hits. They can’t help but transform into their wolves and lick your hands and face. Their licks to your face is basically kisses as they try to speak only to growl in admiration at how you aren’t scared of them. Mattheo is a dark wolf, Theodore is a mixture of light brown and brown fur, and Lorenzo is just a bright brown color. So you’re lucky to know which one is which.

Right as of now, you are in what muggles call a dog pile. Lorenzo is on your stomach, mattheo is on your right, and Theodore is on your left. Cuddling you with their body heat as the slight broken heater in your room was heating it up against the cold night. Lorenzo was half asleep as he just cuddled deeper against your belly. Sometimes Lorenzo had “urges” deeper than the other boys surprisingly. Mattheo was playing with your fingers as Theodore was playing with your hair. “Darling..when is the next moon?” Lorenzo asks, his voice a little husky from drowsiness. You took a deep breath in and look over at the calendar.

“Oh my…it’s tonight…” you say, sitting up a little as your boys groaned annoyed. They hated turning into wolves. More or so reasons because they can’t hold you properly or ki ss you properly. They find it mostly annoying how you baby them when they pamper you so much in their regular form.

“I hate it..” Lorenzo said. Nuzzling his messy bed hair against your stomach before pouting up at you. “I know dear.” You said with a soft voice. You started to scratch his scalp, making him let out a sigh of relief. Your two boys only relaxed in your presence. Minutes passed and they could feel themselves wanting to transform.

“Can I kiss you before we transform?”

“Could I still lay on you??”

“Can I hug you right now?”

Questions were just thrown out in the air. You weren’t overwhelmed of course, just thrown off at how quick your boys wanted you before they transformed. You kissed mattheo gently, you let Theodore hug you. His dark wood scent clinging into you. And you nodded yes to Lorenzo who smiled still. Just happy to stay lay on you. Again, a few minutes pass and mattheo is the first one to transform. His dark black fur covering your eyes of Theodore and Lorenzo following suit. Now you felt a wolf’s nose on your stomach. Whimpering as Theodore and mattheo just snuggle into your arms.

“Awww Lorenzo..it’s just for tonight love.” You say that but the poor werewolf has his ears pushed back. It seems mattheo is laughing at the other werewolf. Because Theodore then smacks the dark wolf with his paw. Making mattheo growl a little. “Hey! No fighting on my bed you gits.” You give them a pointed look. Making your three boys nuzzle against you.

They licked your face, making you giggle. Your giggle made it even more known at how sweet and apiece you were and are to them.

They are your boys.

[barcaatthemoon]

lazy day || alexia putellas x reader ||

you and alexia spend a much needed day in bed together.

you groaned as the beeping from your alarm grew louder. there really wasn't anywhere for you to be, but you had forgotten to turn it off for your day off. you tried to roll towards the noise, but surprisingly, you found yourself being held onto tightly by alexia. she wasn't normally one to stay in bed past six, and you wondered for a moment if she felt ill.

"ale, i'd like to stop the beeping," you said as you wriggled away from her. she whined, something that you hadn't heard in quite some time. you quickly turned the alarm off and situated yourself right back in her arms again. "do we have any plans for today? i was thinking that we could maybe go shopping."

"no," alexia told you. you pouted at her, and she was quick to respond with one of her own. "i want to spend the day with you doing nothing. please, mi amor."

you didn't have any real obligations, so you allowed yourself the comfort of staying in bed with alexia for at least a little while longer. you laid back and relished in the feeling of being in her arms. there was nothing in the world that made you feel safe like being with her like that. alexia's strong arms provided a comfort that you knew you'd never find again.

"you know, i'm not really tired." you could feel alexia trying to lull you back to sleep, but it wasn't working. you did love the feeling of her always perfectly trimmed nails raking gently against your scalp.

"that's okay, you don't have to go to sleep. i just want you to lay here with me," alexia said. she pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head as she shifted slightly beneath you. it should have been absolutely perfect, but you had a hard time relaxing when you had the feeling that something was going on with alexia.

this carried on even after she had finally gotten out of bed for the day. it was nearly 9 o'clock, which you didn't believe was late by normal standards, but it might as well have been the afternoon for alexia. she moved around her house sluggishly as she pulled out the ingredients for breakfast.

since you had practically moved in with alexia, she had gotten you used to her making you breakfast each morning. you knew it was mainly because she wanted to make sure that you stuck to the meal plans that had been made up for you, but it was still sweet of her. she liked taking care of you, something that had surprised the both of you quite a bit at first.

alexia was a caring person, but she had never really given off domestic vibes. all of it came quickly once you started to spend time at her apartment. she began to invite you over for meals, basking in the way your face lit up as she brought you something that she had specifically cooked for you.

it was more than just the food. alexia loved doing all sorts of little things for you around the house. she knew that you could take care of yourself and your own messes, but the kisses you'd give her for helping made it more than worth any trouble. today though, as alexia moved around the kitchen, you knew that the dishes would sit in the sink until tomorrow.

"to the couch. vamos!" alexia swatted your ass as she passed you by. you glanced back over at the sink, but didn't make any moves to clean up. you were no stranger to a sink full of dishes, but you doubted alexia was. she liked to get ahead of things before they piled up. "right here, on my lap. get in close. we are going to watch one of the scary shows."

"i thought you didn't like my shows," you said softly. alexia had been very clear that she had no intentions of watching any of the horror-themed shows that you tended to enjoy. alexia liked for you to think of her as tough and fearless, and those shows made her jump and squeal like a little girl.

"i do not, but i like you a lot. one could even say that i love you, so we can watch them today. if it gets to be too much, i'll just use you as a shield." alexia was being extremely honest. you chuckled as she turned the two of you to lay down on the couch.

alexia sprawled out on top of you, partially tucking her face into the side of your neck. she could still see the television, but her view would be easily hidden if she wanted it to be. the feeling of her breath against your neck was a bit distracting, especially once she had fallen asleep. in her sleep, alexia had pulled you even closer, causing her mouth to press gently against one of the more sensitive spots on your neck.

silently, you turned the television off and carefully shifted to lay a little straighter. you'd wake up from your little nap with a terrible ache in your neck, but alexia would be more than happy to rub it out for you. you closed your eyes and tried to match alexia's breathing as you quickly drifted off to sleep. you hadn't done much all day, but the week's exhaustion finally seemed to catch up with you.

hours later, you woke up curled up on alexia's lap as she sat on the balcony. alexia was chatting away to someone on the phone in spanish, carting her fingers through your hair as she spoke quietly. you pretended to be asleep for a little while longer, even though you knew alexia saw right through you. still, she didn't acknowledge it until she got off of the phone.

"i know that i should have left you inside, but i didn't want you to leave my arms," alexia said as she lifted your head slightly. you puckered your lips for a kiss, which she happily granted you. it was a light press of your lips against yours, but it was enough for the moment. anything else probably would have made your head spin a bit.

"what was all that about?" you asked her. alexia's face fell as she looked at you. her contract at barcelona had been extended, an offer that truly reflected her importance to the club. you had yet to be offered anything, and the window was quickly closing on barcelona to resign you. if they didn't, you'd be forced to move out of spain, and that was the last thing either you or alexia wanted.

"barcelona, they'll resign you for three years, but you have to spend next season on loan. they say it's the only way that they can afford to keep you," alexia said. you didn't like the sound of that, but you weren't opposed to going on loan if it meant you could still come back to barcelona.

"where would i go?" you asked. alexia shrugged. there had been a few clubs that were smart enough to really fight for you. all of them were much further away than alexia was comfortable with. although, you had yearned to play for your home country again, even if you knew that alexia would never follow you all the way to sweden.

"up north, like way up north. they want you back in sweden," alexia answered. your eyes lit up a little, and alexia felt guilty for wanting to hide the information from you. she had thought about it, but it felt dishonest, and her honesty was one of your favorite things about her. "i don't want you to go."

"it's just a season, it's not permanent. i doubt you want me to take the only other spanish team that's willing to sign me." alexia's brows furrowed at the reminder of real madrid's offer on you. it was twice as much as barcelona was willing to pay for you, but alexia had threatened to disown you if you played for them. you didn't doubt that she'd do it, the woman loved barcelona almost more than she loved you sometimes. "you can do this ale, i believe in you."

"i don't want to though. i don't want to wake up without you right here next to me. it's selfish, and i know that i'm being a baby about it, but i deserve to be sometimes. it's not fair," alexia whined. you cupped her cheeks and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. alexia grumbled a little as you pressed kisses all over her face before you finally kissed her lips.

"don't think about it for now, just enjoy these moments with me right now. let's make a million memories so that when i'm gone, the time just flies by until i can come back to you, okay? you've already given me today," you said. alexia took a deep breath, and if you noticed the tears in her eyes that she desperately tried to blink away, you didn't say anything.

"we can't just lay around all day tomorrow. there's media and training," alexia reminded you.

"i don't need to tomorrow. whenever things get to be too much for me, i'll just remember this day that we spent together. i'll think about the feeling of your arms wrapped around me when i get cold and lonely. anything to put me back in this headspace."

"god, i love you so much," alexia muttered as she squeezed you. you quietly repeated her words back to her, but they were muffled as alexia lifted you up and carried you back inside. this time when your body hit the bed, you knew that it wasn't just for a bit of extra lounging around.

[darylssunshine]

daryl x reader

“whoa hey, you’re bleeding.” reader maybe not realizing it until she looks down. falling into his arms and daryl callin for help. whump whump whumppp . set at the prison ?

Family

word count: 1.1k

a/n: finally getting into the swing of things with requests. hope you enjoy anon <3

~~~

The sounds of people yelling and the banging of chain link fences echoed throughout the prison courtyard. You jabbed your knife through yet another walker, grunting as you pushed it through its thick skull. You, along with everyone else in your small group, including Carl, had been at this for at least an hour now, but it was necessary to keep the prison safe. Still, the constant stabbing motion had your upper arm aching. Probably acid and bile rising up from your stomach, too.

“I got the last one!” Glenn called out from the middle of the formation, sticking his knife right in the middle of the walker’s eye. Audible sighs of relief could be heard from the group, along with a victory ‘whoop’ from Carl. Standing right beside you, Daryl was flicking the excess undead blood from his knife and his hands, wiping the rest on his pants. He shaked a stray hair out of his eye then wiped a hand down his face, sighing and sheathing his now blood-free knife. 

“Jesus. Glad that’s over. Can’t wait to do that again tomorrow.” He scoffed, leaning against the fence and stretching his overused right arm.

“I know, right? My arm is killing me. Gonna have to… ” You trailed off, suddenly feeling a wave of dizziness wash over you. You leaned your arm against the fence for support and lowered your head, squeezing your eyes shut. 

Daryl stopped leaning against the fence and took a cautious step forward towards you. “Hey, you okay?” 

You immediately snapped your gaze back up to the archer, desperately trying to seem like you had your shit together. “Yep. Yeah. I’m okay.” You placed your free hand on your hip to simulate normality. That’s when Daryl looked you up and down and his eyes suddenly went wide.

“Woah, woah, woah, hey, hey! Yer bleedin’!!” He quickly stepped toward you, glancing down sporadically. 

You placed your hand on your stomach, discovering the right side was wet and sticky. It was, in fact, blood.

“Fuckin’ damn it.” You mumble, before going limp and falling into Daryl’s arms, him catching you by the armpits. 

His heart immediately started racing when he caught you and layed you carefully on the dying grass. The few that surrounded you stepped back to give you some space. He instantly got on his knees and inspected your injuries, praying to whatever deity was listening that you hadn’t gotten bit. After a string of mumbled expletives, he shouted, “I need some fuckin’ help over here!” To no one in particular, his frantic eyes never leaving your closed ones.

What he didn’t see happening behind him was Rick rushing to get Hershel, while Maggie and Glenn hurriedly grabbing a makeshift stretcher and bringing it to wear you laid. He quickly got to his feet and helped you onto the stretcher. He was by your side the entire time and throughout all of the noise and chaos, you could swear you could hear Daryl whispering, “They’re gonna be fine. They’re gonna be fine.”

—

You groggily opened your eyes and instantly felt a stinging on your right side. The events of the past hour flooded back, and you wince. You cautiously felt the area, and thankfully you felt a clean bandage.

Judging by the beige ceiling and the firm yet surprisingly comfortable mattress you were on, you had been placed in Hershel’s room. You slowly moved your head to the side, expecting to be met with an equally beige wallpaper, but to your surprise, you were met with a sleeping, hot headed, brunette, redneck.

He was spread out in a chair he had brought from the dining room. His head was lolled towards you, his hair in his eyes and snoring quite loud. You smiled, heart slightly skipping a beat at the thought of him not wanting to leave your side.

“Hey.” You rasped, cringing at your own voice. 

Daryl, being a naturally light sleeper, immediately blinked awake. It took a second for the fog of sleep to leave his brain, but it left fast when he realized that you were awake. That you were alive.

“Holy fuck. (Y/N.) Hey. How’re ya feelin’?” He rambled, scooting the chair closer to the bed and sitting on the edge of it.

“Like shit. But I’ll be fine.” You sighed in response. 

“Good.” Daryl said softly, letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Hershel said you probably got scratched by a walker. That true?”

You averted his gaze from his and started picking your fingernails, a nervous habit you’ve had since you were a child. “It happened while we were dealing with that hoard. I didn’t wanna make a scene.” 

You heard him sigh deeply and didn’t speak for a moment. You turned your head back towards him, and he had his head in his hand, almost willing himself to speak. He looked up and his eyes looked redder and puffier than they were before. “Why th’ fuck would ya do tha’?”

You slowly sat up in a somewhat sitting position to better look him in the eyes. “We all have to protect this place, Daryl! This family! It’s something that most don’t have these days.”

“We coulda had one less person in th’ family if you’d told me about tha’ any later.” He motioned to your wound with a nod of his head.

“You guys can function without m-” You were cut off from your half-joking comment.

“I can’t, ‘kay?! I can’t. So shuddup. Don’t say tha’.” He suddenly raised his voice a little, making you shut your lips and look at him with your full attention.

“Look. I don’t want ya gettin’ hurt. I care about ya. Always have.” He gazed into your eyes with such a fondness you could’ve started crying right then and there. And you would’ve, if he didn’t look away from you in sudden embarrassment. “Yer the only one who keeps me sane ‘round here.”

You sniffed, chuckling to cover up the tightness growing in the back of your throat. “That why you stayed and kept me up with your snoring?”

“Shuddup.” He repeated, sounding exasperated, but you didn’t miss the slight smile on his face.

He then stood up, flexed his probably sore neck, and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. More heat blossomed onto your cheek at the sudden contact.

“Gonna go get Hershel now that yer awake.” He said softly before walking towards the door.

“Can you bring me dinner after pleeeeease?” You asked, your hands in a prayer motion and your eyelashes batting.

He turned around in the doorframe, his hands in his pockets.

“Sure. ��S a date.” He drawled, winked, then walked away like nothing happened.

Maybe you should have thanked that walker before you stabbed him.