#and I was like of course! and she was like but you have so many students …

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Intoxication [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

wc: 9.2k

Summary: when Spencer and reader accidentally consume aphrodisiacs, it seems impossible to maintain control of themselves. It all comes down to who will lose their mind first.

warnings: +18, mdni!! alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, unintentional use of aphrodisiacs, explicit descriptions, oral (f receiving) fingering, kissing, porn with plot, p in v, protected sex, no y/n!

It had been just over half an hour since I entered the fraternity building, fully aware that within the first second, I’d feel the need to leave. Attending any gathering wasn’t a regular thing for me. The noise, the crowds, and the multitude of germs everywhere were reason enough to avoid them.

However, that time, I thought, why not? I had never been to one of those university parties and wanted to experience it. However, I never considered the fact that, to enjoy one, you either: a) went with a group of friends or b) drank until you forgot your name and the discomfort you felt about yourself. I didn’t have the first option, nor did I want to do the second. So, after a few minutes of reflection, I decided I would walk back to my apartment and go straight to bed.

The place was huge, and since my postgraduate program didn’t include the benefit of dormitories, I rarely found myself in places like that. I was about to leave when a hand grabbed my forearm to stop me. In front of me, smiling widely, was her. The moment I saw her, I could swear my face lit up.

“Hi”

“Spencer! I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Without letting go of my arm, she came closer, wrapping me in a hug and planting a kiss on my cheek before I could react.

I quickly glanced at her, and in the dim light, I noticed her wearing a fitted, spaghetti-strap dress in a deep burgundy red with delicate floral embroidery that looked hand-drawn on the sheer fabric. The material, likely chiffon or tulle, clung to her figure as if custom-made. I tried to focus on her leather jacket instead because the last thing I wanted was to make her uncomfortable by staring too long.

“I was just about to leave, actually.”

“Why?” she asked, noticing my sigh.

“It’s just... I don’t know anyone here.”

“Well, that problem is now solved,” she kindly murmured.

I didn’t even get the chance to respond when she had already walked over to another girl, whispering something in her ear, probably to let her know she’d be away for a while.

Even though I wanted to decline to stay, the truth was that I genuinely enjoyed her company. Rejecting her would have been too rude. We had met some time ago thanks to the advanced classes she took, which overlapped with mine. She was younger than me, of course, but only by one or two years.

She had always been kind to me, attentive, and one could say she was a friend. After all, I trusted her enough to let her hold my hand and guide me through the crowd, despite my aversion to physical contact… and people.

“It’d be a crime to let you leave so early after finally coming to a party,” she breathed once we were both seated on a tiny couch where the noise was slightly muffled. At least she had been considerate in that regard.

“I don’t even know why I came,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. She was leaning against one side, legs crossed, looking at me with a smile. “I don’t like parties.”

“Do you like drinking?” she asked. I shook my head “Maybe that’s the root of the problem.”

“Getting drunk to the point of losing control isn’t my thing,” I replied.

“That’s not what it’s about,” she murmured almost compassionately “It’s more like… fuel for your social battery, you know? You don’t have to deal with these people. I don’t even know half of them, but the guys in this fraternity are disgustingly rich and just want to get as many girls drunk as possible to sleep with whoever they can. They won’t mind if you drink a little. Enough to have fun, but not so much you end up in some stranger’s bed.”

I thought about it for a second and silently nodded. I didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of her by saying I didn’t want to drink because, come on, what kind of university student doesn’t drink?

“I understand your point, and I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but alcohol has a more complex impact than it seems. It’s not just something that ‘fuels your social battery’; it’s a central nervous system depressant, which means it slows down brain and motor functions. That initial feeling of euphoria or relaxation happens because it inhibits the prefrontal cortex—the part of your brain that regulates judgment and self-awareness. So, technically, drinking a little might make you feel more uninhibited or confident, but it can also impair your ability to make rational decisions if you overdo it, even if you don’t notice right away.”

I paused, gauging how much more I should say before losing her interest. Hearing no objections, I continued:

“Additionally, strong liquors, which have high ethanol concentrations, can hit your system faster than diluted drinks. And if you drink too quickly, you could easily exceed your liver’s ability to metabolize the alcohol. The excess ethanol stays in your bloodstream, raising your blood alcohol levels and increasing the risk of intoxication.”

I avoided looking directly at her, partly because I didn’t want to get distracted by her gaze and partly because I was nervous around her.

“It’s not that I want to ruin your fun, but if you’re going to drink, you should do it slowly, alternating with water, and never on an empty stomach. Not to seem smarter than everyone else, but because staying in control can be the difference between a fun night and a situation you don’t want to be in.”

I expected her to look bored, confused, or even indifferent, assuming she’d left halfway through my rambling. But when I looked at her, I was surprised by the admiration shining in her eyes, accompanied by an amused smile.

“All right, genius boy, if you know all that and basically have the perfect recipe for not making stupid mistakes while drinking, why do you still refuse?” she teased playfully. I didn’t know what to say, but luckily, she answered for me “Listen, I drove here. How about we make a deal? We can drink a little, have a good time, maybe dance if you want, and if either of us starts doing something embarrassing, the soberest one will make sure to drag the other to the car and drive them home. Deal?”

She handed me her car keys, and I wasn’t sure if the brush of her hand against mine was intentional or if she had decided to linger a little longer.

I agreed to her proposal, and a second later, she was already off her seat, walking toward where I assumed the kitchen was. No one noticed us entering, too absorbed in their own business to care if we were strangers.

There was every type of alcohol scattered around, and she took the liberty of pouring me a shot of a clear liquid, which I guessed was vodka. She warned me to drink it in one gulp, and when the warmth hit my throat, I barely managed to avoid coughing. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything.

“Tastes like… strawberry.”

“It’s good, right?” she laughed, giving my shoulder a playful nudge.

Our previous seat was already taken, so she opted for us to stand in a quiet corner. I have to admit that, although I still felt slightly awkward, the vodka was having the desired effect; making me feel more animated to talk.

Talking to her was almost hypnotic. Maybe it was the rhythmic movement of her lips, still stained with traces of what had once been red lipstick, or perhaps it was her tone, but it made me feel like I had to watch her. She never faltered when she spoke, always exuding confidence and calm, no matter the topic.

On the other hand, whenever I responded, I completely lost focus. No matter what I said, she kept looking at me with a wide smile, nodding, and even leaning closer when something made her laugh. But her laugh wasn’t mocking—no, it was as if she genuinely found my intellectual jokes or nonsensical remarks funny.

Gradually, my glass emptied, and she guided me back to the kitchen, serving us moderately but consistently. After an hour, all my nerves had vanished, leaving only a normal guy enjoying the terrible background music, unconcerned about how dirty the place was, and utterly captivated by the woman next to him.

“It’s strange, you know? I didn’t think I’d enjoy something like this. Parties always seemed so… chaotic,”

She looked around with a slight smile.

“That’s true. They’re not exactly calm, but in a way, the chaos has its charm. It lets you leave everything else behind for a while.”

“I suppose you’re right. Sometimes, you just need to disconnect.”

“You seem less tense now, huh? Are you sure it’s not the vodka helping with that?”

She moved closer, almost leaning against my chest in a friendly way, and seeing her looking up at me made my face feel hot.

“Maybe. But it’s also largely due to the company.”

She seemed surprised by my sudden boldness and let out a laugh that I interpreted as a sign of approval. We continued drinking, laughing, and soon my stomach demanded food. Even in my slightly tipsy state, I still remembered that eating would help lessen the effects of the alcohol.

I have to admit that the way I held her waist to guide her to the kitchen was entirely intentional. However, she didn’t seem bothered by the contact. By this point, I’d realized that no one really cared about what we took or didn’t take, so we felt free to rummage through the pantry.

“There are chips, pretzels, Cheetos, some cookies...” she began listing, handing me each package she found.

I grabbed a stray cookie, and suddenly, she let out a sigh of admiration.

“What is it?”

“Chocolate,” she murmured happily. It was a half-eaten, luxurious-looking golden package with no label “Do you want some?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Chocolate has properties that can slightly boost energy and mood. Both alcohol and chocolate can be hard for the body to handle, especially with a combination of high sugar and alcohol content. This can lead to stomach discomfort, dizziness, or a stronger hangover the next day.”

But she wasn’t listening. She had already popped a sizeable piece of chocolate into her mouth. Immediately, she offered me a piece, slightly bigger than hers.

“You have to try it,” she moaned.

I resisted, but I have to admit that the fact she grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer caught me off guard enough to let her slip the chocolate into my mouth.

“Hey!”

“You’ll thank me later.”

It was delicious, that’s for sure. Like a pair of sneaky raccoons, we kept scavenging for snacks in the kitchen until we were satisfied. She grabbed a bag of chips, and I took the bag of pretzels.

After our little break, she poured us another round of drinks, and something inside me told me it was time to stop. I decided that would be my last glass for the night.

Let’s dance she suddenly whispered, and once again, I let her lead me toward the crowd.

I didn’t know how to dance; I think that was pretty obvious. But the situation managed to make me forget that fact.

She was patient with me and laughed every time I made a mistake. Even though there was smoke around me, probably from weed, that didn't stop me from staring intently, and even somewhat intimidated, at my friend. Beautiful, statuesque, and drunk friend.

We danced for a long time until something in her swaying movements, in the way she smiled at me, began to make my head spin. It was as if the atmosphere was charged with something more—something I couldn’t identify at first.

She leaned closer, and my pulse began to quicken slightly. Her hands rose to tangle in my neck, bringing a warm sensation that followed: my thoughts seemed clearer, sharper. I wondered if it was the alcohol, but then something different began to course through my skin.

The warmth intensified, not just in my body but in my mind as well. I felt more alert, more awake, yet the calmness of the vodka lingered, balancing the sensation. My skin felt more sensitive, as if every little touch sent vibrations through me in a more intense way.

My eyes focused more on her movements, her voice, and the way the air filled with her perfume. I wanted to get closer, as if there were an invisible force pulling me toward her. And though my body responded with a soft yearning, my mind remained present, conscious of every second.

By the way she was looking at me, I imagined I wasn’t the only one experiencing these kinds of emotions.

“Sweetheart.”

“Hmm?”

“Can we sit down for a moment? I’m completely sweaty, and the smell of weed is starting to bother me.”

“Of course.”

My hands rested on her waist, unsure of where else to go, and we stumbled out of the crowd, finding a couch to collapse onto.

I was sweaty too, and we were both breathing heavily. When I saw her lean her head back against the seat, leaving her neck exposed, something stirred inside me.

“You move well, Reid.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I mean it. You just need a little confidence,” she smiled. Perhaps the alcohol dulled her sense of personal space, which is why she leaned so close to me. “You’re so smart that, with a bit of practice, you’d be the most skilled at a lot of physical activities.”

Did she know how nervous she was making me? My face was already flushed from the alcohol, the effort, and now from the way she was looking at me while twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

I wanted to say something else, but a voice interrupted mine: a tall, burly guy accompanied by two others who seemed to be flanking him. Probably a member of the fraternity hosting the party.

He specifically addressed her, asking how she was enjoying the party and throwing in a compliment, clearly with ulterior motives. For a moment, I felt disheartened. Of course, she could have gone with him and I would have understood. I was far too used to rejection.

“I’m having a great time—with my friend. Thanks,” she exclaimed, cordial but curt.

“Want a drink?”

“Honestly, no.”

By the uncomfortable smile she gave the men, I assumed she was politely ending the conversation. With some reluctance, the guys walked away.

Suddenly, my breath caught when I felt her hand rest on my thigh, sliding painfully slowly down to my knee. I couldn’t even hear her words over the heat of her fingers on my pants.

“Sorry?”

“I thought you were going to say something, earlier.”

“No,” I quickly replied, smiling like an idiot because of the way she had leaned toward me. “Nothing.”

“I like listening to you. You know so many things, and you don’t make me feel dumb when you explain them. That’s very sexy.”

“Sexy?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, because I’d replied in a voice an octave higher than normal. “You are very sexy.”

Her compliment was followed by a soft, distracted kiss on the line of my jaw, which sent my brain into overdrive.

“Uhm… you… you’re beautiful. Very beautiful.”

My clumsy compliment seemed to please her, and I felt one of her nails, long and painted black, tracing circles on the skin of my knee. Each small movement felt deliberate, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Did you know fireflies don’t just glow to communicate but also to… attract?”

Her voice broke the silence between us, soft but layered with a double meaning that made me lift my eyes to her.

“Yes, I know,” I responded automatically, my brain switching to autopilot. “Bioluminescent signals are a form of courtship. The light patterns vary by species and can be very specific.”

She turned her head toward me, her lips curving into a lazy smile.

“Of course you’d know that. But tell me something—do you think it actually works? Making someone notice you just by glowing?”

My throat went dry. There was something about the way she was looking at me, like she was expecting a more personal answer than a scientific one.

“I guess it depends on who you’re trying to attract,” I murmured, feeling ridiculously exposed under her gaze.

“That makes sense.”

Her hand slid slightly—barely noticeable—toward the edge of my knee. After tapping her fingers on my pants, she withdrew it.

She didn’t move from the couch, and neither did I. There was something about her posture that held me captive—the way she leaned back against the seat, relaxed yet naturally elegant. Her dress had ridden up slightly along her thighs, revealing more skin than I felt prepared to handle at that moment. I tried to look elsewhere, but it was as if my eyes had a will of their own, always returning to the same place.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with a hint of amusement.

“Yes, of course,” I replied quickly, turning my head in the other direction. Perhaps too quickly, because my neck cracked slightly in the process.

She didn’t say anything, but her suppressed laughter made me feel even more awkward. In the silence that followed, I forced myself to focus on something safer: the empty glass on the table, the flickering lights through the window, anything but the curve of her leg or the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

“It’s hot, isn’t it?” she commented suddenly, with almost theatrical casualness. Then, without warning, she leaned forward as if to adjust her shoe, causing the neckline of her dress to dip even further.

“Do you think so?” I muttered, my voice raspier than I intended.

She smiled, a gesture somewhere between innocence and knowing.

“Yes, definitely. Though maybe it’s because we’re sitting so close,” she said, glancing around as if she had only just noticed the temperature.

Her words felt like both a slap and a caress at the same time. I tried to keep my gaze fixed on her face, but it didn’t help that her eyes shone with a kind of mischievous intent. Then she lifted one leg, bending it to get more comfortable on the couch, and her knee accidentally brushed against my thigh.

“Did you know you have a very particular way of distracting yourself?” she remarked while toying with the hem of her dress, as if unaware of the chaos she was causing in my head.

“Do I?” my voice sounded weak, almost a whisper.

She nodded slowly, leaning in a bit closer until I could feel the warmth of her proximity.

“Yes. It’s like you’re trying to avoid something but… you can’t.”

My throat went dry. I wanted to say something clever, to steer the conversation away, anything to regain some ground. But instead, all that came out was a nervous, forced laugh.

She didn’t stop looking at me. Then, with exasperating slowness, she smoothed the fabric of her dress over her thigh—a casual gesture.

“You know, sometimes you seem so self-aware. It’s something that can be endearing, but also… well, how do I put it?” she paused for a moment, bringing a finger to her lips as if she were reflecting. “It makes you seem easier to impress.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing, Reid. It’s just me rambling” her voice softened, and I felt the lightest touch on my nose as her finger grazed it. I tried to ignore the fact that her gaze had lingered on my lips “Scattered thoughts I have in my head.”

Without warning, she let out a loud exhale and leaned back into the couch, arching her back as if trying to relieve some muscle tension. I know she probably wasn’t aware of the movement, but it was what finally made me lose the little composure I had left.

“I need to use the restroom. Can you give me a moment?”

I escaped. Cowardly, completely, I got up and practically bolted toward the bathroom, desperate for a moment of peace. As soon as I entered, I realized I had an obvious problem in my pants—I was hard as a rock, and that wasn’t good. I looked at myself in the mirror, surprised at how flushed my face was. My pupils were dilated, my lips dry… What the hell was happening to me?

It quickly became clear that she was the reason for my situation.

The alcohol prevented me from feeling the embarrassment I surely deserved, and instead, I felt like my head was spinning. I placed a hand over the fabric of my pants, letting out a frustrated, pained groan.

I stayed there for a while, trying to think of something that would make my erection go away, but nothing worked. A couple of knocks on the door startled me, and that forced me to leave. Once in the hallway, I walked for a bit until I bumped into someone.

“Spencer! I’ve been looking for you. Are you okay?”

“No! I mean, yes… it’s just…”

I needed to think of something quickly—something believable, but not catastrophic. However, it was hard to concentrate with her body so close to mine, mere inches away from her noticing my situation.

“Did you throw up?”

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s nothing. I think the vodka didn’t sit well with me, uh, maybe I got dizzy from dancing, I don’t know. I think it’s best if I leave.”

“Poor thing,” she murmured, pouting “I’ll take you home right now.”

“I can take a cab.”

“Nonsense. That was our agreement, remember? If one of us was in bad shape, the other would take care of them. Plus, I was the one who encouraged you to drink. I’d feel bad if something happened to you.”

She was already putting on her jacket—she’d been holding it, probably suspecting the situation—and tried to find the keys in her pocket. My outstretched hand reminded her that she’d already given them to me earlier.

When she placed her hand on the small of my back to guide me out, my breathing deepened. The sensation of excitement coursed through me in a way I couldn’t ignore. I realized that something in me desperately wanted her. Too much.

It wasn’t an impulsive desire but a subtle one that had been building throughout the night—with every glance, every gesture. Perhaps the vodka had intensified my evident attraction to her, but whatever the reason, it had turned into something far more palpable.

It was almost as if my body was begging me to stop her right then and there, to kiss her recklessly, and maybe, just maybe, ease the relentless ache inside me.

The cool night air made me feel better, and as the noise faded behind us, I began to calm down. I fervently tried to hide the bulge in my pants, but the truth was she didn’t even seem to notice. Then again, it would’ve been strange to catch her staring at my crotch, right?

“Are you sure you’re in a condition to drive?”

“I’ve driven home in far worse states of drunkenness. Don’t worry,” she smiled.

She looked more lucid now, as if her intoxication had vanished in an instant. I decided to trust her abilities.

The drive home was silent, and I kept shifting in my seat, trying to find strategic positions to avoid embarrassment. I guess she attributed my silence to the supposed discomfort I was feeling, as she didn’t try to start a conversation.

She didn’t say anything when she caught me looking at her through the rearview mirror. It was an innocent glance, at least on my part, simply admiring her. Her lips were driving me crazy, her eyes, slightly narrowed from the lack of light and smudged with mascara, seemed the most beautiful to me. I didn’t know what she saw in me, but I think—no, I feel—that it was something she liked.

“Thank you so much for bringing me home… and for everything.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Quite a lot, actually.”

“We should do this more often.”

“Go to university parties?”

“Just go out in general. To a bar, grab some drinks, a coffee, the library if you’d prefer,” she laughed “The place doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re there.”

Was she implying she wanted a date with me? I swallowed hard and looked at her, trying to decipher what she wanted me to do. I couldn’t figure it out.

“I’d like that, yes. We can talk about that later. Thanks again for the ride.”

A kiss on my cheek marked her goodbye, and I rushed out, eager to get inside my apartment. I was about to unlock the building’s door when the sound of a car horn made me turn around.

“Hey, would you mind if I use your bathroom? I’ll be quick,” she promised.

I needed to get to the shower and turn on the cold water, but I didn’t protest when she turned off the car engine.

Almost no one visited me in the apartment, so I kept the space however I pleased. It wasn’t really messy, but there were plenty of things on the desk and several books scattered around.

She entered, as she had said, rushing to the bathroom. It was only then that I dared to put a hand over my pants, swallowing a moan that was about to escape from my throat.

In my limited sexual experiences, nothing like this had ever happened to me, and I wondered what the cause might have been. Alcohol couldn’t be blamed, of course, but it was responsible for ruining my ability to react enough to find another explanation.

The shirt began to feel heavy on me, and almost out of necessity, I undid the first buttons to let myself breathe. I tried to ventilate my skin by tugging at the fabric with the tips of my fingers, but it was useless. I sighed.

I glanced around the room, just wanting to make sure nothing was embarrassing in view, and at that moment, she came out of the bathroom. She looked flushed and had some wet hair, as if she had washed her face.

“You okay?”

“Yes, just… suddenly felt a bit feverish”

“Let me check”

My intentions were purely medical when I cupped her face with one hand, putting the back of the other against her forehead to confirm or deny my suspicions. Of course, I hadn’t considered how close we would be. Or maybe I had, subconsciously, and that’s why I moved forward.

My choice of words wasn't the best either.

“You’re hot,”

“I don’t think it’s as much as you.”

A daring smile slid across her lips, and I held my breath as her fingers traced up to the line of my collarbone, exposed by my shirt.

“Why are you saying that?”

“Don’t you like it?”

“It’s just… I don’t understand it.”

A soft laugh echoed in my ears.

“Well, I think you’re very handsome. Would there be any other reason for that?”

I swallowed deeply. She noticed the movement of my Adam’s apple.

“No… I think… I think not. It’s the most logical thing.”

“Don’t they tell you that often?” she murmured, genuinely confused. I shook my head “That’s a shame.”

Her hand, which had been tentatively caressing my skin, moved up to my neck and pulled me just a few inches closer to her.

“Hey, Spencer.”

“Yes?”

“Could I kiss you?”

A chill ran down my spine. And without thinking, I answered yes.

Her mouth found mine with a softness that contrasted with the whirlwind of sensations inside me. It was a heady contrast: the sweetness of her lips against the intensity of the desire that had been building up in every fiber of my being.

My hands instinctively moved to her waist, hesitating for a moment, as if fearing that this might just be a product of my imagination. But she didn’t hesitate. Her body leaned into me, closing any distance that remained.

Her lips were insistent, demanding, and before I could process what was happening, her hand slid down to my chest, pushing me gently back until my back collided with the wall.

“I’m sorry…” I managed to murmur between kisses, pulling my face slightly away. My voice came out more trembly than I wanted.

She raised an eyebrow, tilting her face toward mine, her fingers now brushing my jawline.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“For this” my gaze dropped quickly before returning to her eyes. “No… I didn’t want you to feel it. It’s embarrassing.”

For a moment, I thought she would pull away, that the spell of the moment would break. But instead, her lips curved into a mischievous smile.

“Embarrassing? I thought I was the only one feeling all this tension,” her tone was low, almost a whisper, but filled with a certainty that made my breath grow even more erratic.

Before I could respond, her lips captured mine again, this time with more intensity. The kiss was everything I didn’t know I needed: desperate, intoxicating, completely consumed by the connection between us. I felt her body press against mine, her curves fitting perfectly as if they were made to be there. And then, all my doubts, all my attempts to hold back, vanished.

My mind was a whirlwind. Every touch of her lips, every time her tongue sought mine, was like a fire I couldn’t put out. My face was hot, yes, but now not because of the alcohol, not even from the effort of holding myself back. It was her closeness, her touch, her condescending voice still echoing in my head.

She knows what she’s doing. And she’s slowly killing me.

“Hey, wait…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you feel okay with this?”

“A lot. Do you want to stop?”

“No. It’s just that… you’ve been drinking. I don’t want you to think I took advantage of you” my voice came out hoarse, full of doubt and repressed desire.

Her eyes met mine, firm and warm at the same time, as if her gaze could completely disarm me.

“Relax. You’ve been drinking too, pretty, and I think if anyone could make that accusation, it would be you. Do you feel like I’m taking advantage of you?”

“No”

“I’m fully aware of everything. I don’t even feel drunk anymore. The only thing that’s making me dizzy right now is you, Spencer…”

I shivered when I heard my name on her lips like that. She continued:

“I’m just as anxious as you are. I’ve been holding back all night, trying not to make this too obvious, but I can’t anymore. Please, don’t doubt me. Don’t doubt what I want. I want you”

Her confession hit my heart like a blow and ignited a spark that set my entire body on fire. My hand moved up her back until it tangled in her hair, while the other rested on her hip. The pull was gentle but enough for her to understand that my inner struggle had ended. I wasn’t resisting this anymore.

I wanted her too. I wanted her now.

“I never imagined…”

My words were barely audible as our lips brushed in a kiss that was both an explosion of emotions and a long-awaited relief. Her mouth was soft, and so perfectly synchronized with mine that I felt like the world stopped at that moment.

Her hands gripped my shoulders, anchoring the connection between us, while my thumb traced a slow path along her jawline, savoring every detail of her skin. It was more than a kiss. It was the confirmation of something that had been lingering all evening.

When we parted just a centimeter to breathe, our foreheads stayed pressed together.

“Did that clear your doubts?”

“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say all that,” I replied with a weak smile, the only one my pounding heart allowed me to form.

“Then stop overthinking”

The space between us disappeared again as we kissed with desperation we had both been suppressing. Her low laugh vibrated against my lips, and I couldn’t help but smile. How did she do it? How did she drive me crazy with so little effort?

But now wasn’t the time for questions. It was time to feel.

The whole world had reduced itself to him: his warm breath, his lips that wavered between soft and desperate, and the hands that roamed my waist with a mix of reverence and clumsiness, making me want him even more. Spencer had always been an enigma to me, a balance between restraint and passion that I didn't know how to decipher... until now.

I had waited for this moment more than I would ever admit. Maybe it had been the way he looked at me when he thought I didn't notice, or the warmth in his voice when he said my name, as if it were something sacred. But now, with his body pressed against mine and his doubts finally gone, I knew I hadn't imagined anything.

It was as if the pieces of a puzzle I had been trying to put together in the dark finally clicked into place, and the resulting image was more beautiful than I had ever dreamed.

Wanting to reverse the roles, it was now him who gently pushed me against the wall, and I felt the control he always seemed to have begin to crack. His breath was heavy, his body trembling slightly, a sign that this was as new and overwhelming for him as it was for me.

"Spencer..." I murmured his name again, feeling it resonate in my chest at the same time his lips moved more intensely against mine. "Can I ask you something?"

I received an affirmative exhalation, and to let me speak, his lips moved to the hollow of my neck. Although my mouth was free, the soft and wet kisses I was receiving blurred my judgment a bit.

"Tell me”

"Did you really feel bad at the party? Or was it just..."

"I didn't want you to notice what you were doing to me. Although I think at this point it doesn't matter much, right?"

Contrary to what I expected, Spencer pushed his hips against mine, as if he wanted to prove that it was true. I could even call it a claim, something that said: look what you did to me. And I wanted him to know just how much my body was begging for him.

Carefully, I moved one of his hands from my waist, and before he could protest, I guided it to one of my thighs, dangerously close to my core. I was glad I had thought of lingerie as a great complement to my dress, maybe in an attempt to feel sexy even if no one saw it. But now, he was going to see it.

Spencer understood my silent request. Those long, slender fingers, which seemed made for more than just flipping through the pages of a book or scribbling frantic notes on paper, slid across my smooth skin. I sighed as I remembered the veins tracing a map under his fair skin, like rivers of contained energy.

Until they finally reached where I needed them. And his touch... God, his touch was something else. They were hands made for discovery, for holding, for exploring, but in those moments, they seemed to be made only for me.

Spencer wasn't an overly bold guy, so it didn't surprise me that he just traced shapes above my panties, as if he wanted to diagnose my anatomy before making any move. My sighs at his ear seemed to please him.

Suddenly, he stopped kissing me, and I huffed, since I liked the attention he was giving my shoulder, until I felt his lips drop just slightly. A loud, pathetic moan escaped me when he squeezed my tits while burying his face to leave an experimental kiss.

I was barely processing that when he knelt in front of me and, carefully, took the edge of my dress and lifted it.

My legs trembled with anticipation at the thought of what he was going to do next, and then I felt his lips brush my thigh. He started gentle, kind, but soon he began sucking every bit of skin he could, and in the end, he made sure to leave bites strong enough to make me whimper.

Who would have thought that this man, seemingly so inexperienced, turned out to offer the best foreplay a woman could desire?

I squealed as I felt his kisses trail down to the fabric of my panties, pausing for a moment to lick the length of my still-clothed pussy.

“You’re dripping wet,” he observed. I was too focused on not giving in right then and there to say anything "Is oral something you're into?"

“I don’t know,” I exclaimed honestly. I didn’t care how vulnerable I looked as I confessed that no man had ever dared to give me head “You?”

“It’s an idea that piques my curiosity, yes.”

Gently he slid some of the fabric aside to clear the way for his tongue, and I felt as if my entire body was only aware of the parts he was probing, kissing, sucking. When he raised my thigh to shoulder height, deepening his thrusts, I felt like I was going to pass out.

I lowered my hand to his thick head and tried, in vain, to push him away from me. I honestly didn’t have the strength or desire to do so, much less when he had picked up the pace.

I moaned a sweet nickname out loud and then Spencer pulled away, looking up at me with glossy, swollen lips.

“Take me to bed, please.”

He didn’t need me to say it twice as he immediately stood up and took me by the waist to guide me to said spot. I was able to taste myself on his lips and for some reason that only turned me on.

Once we hit the mattress the way he laid me down was gentle and I sighed at that. How could he be so sweet all the time? I wondered. And worse yet, how much would this little adventure affect my future expectations?

Because if it was about standards, I was finding out that Spencer Reid was the standard.

Seemingly more enthralled now by my lips than my pussy, he continued with the make-out session we were having. With each touch we had, my excitement was increasing more and more. In the midst of it all I managed to unbutton his shirt and take it off to leave it somewhere on the bed; the semi-darkness of the room shielded any insecurities he might be feeling, as well as my own.

“You are painfully stunning, did you know?”

My tone was one of reproach, and he laughed at that, looking down almost embarrassed. Maybe he wasn't used to compliments, but something told me he was definitely enjoying it.

I heard him murmur something under his breath about me, while he took down the straps of my dress. My hands almost instinctively went to unbuckle his belt, and before I could do anything, he pulled away from me. Needless to say, this left me confused.

"Sorry, I..."

“You don't want to?” I murmured understandingly. I thought maybe he wasn't a big fan of these situations, and I understood, but somehow I felt hurt.

"No! Sure I want to. I want it a lot, but..." he tried not to look at me, as if avoiding confrontation "It's just that I don't have any protection here”

A laugh escaped my lips, and I feared he might interpret it as mockery, so I stretched my neck to steal another kiss.

"One would think there are many girls who pass through these sheets."

"Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you. It's cute, actually. It even makes me feel guilty," I murmured, smiling "For a second, I was afraid something had made you uncomfortable."

"No, it's not that."

I hesitated for a second whether I should suggest what was on my mind.

"We could do it like this. It doesn't bother me."

"It's not just about avoiding an unwanted pregnancy..." he began. At that moment, I saw him return to his usual nerdy mode. "Although, of course, that counts. But there are things like sexually transmitted infections, some of which don't even show symptoms at first and could complicate things if not detected on time. I know this doesn't sound very attractive, but believe me, protection isn't just for avoiding future problems; it's also to take care of you now, so you don't have issues later: because sometimes men can transmit diseases we're asymptomatic for, and to be honest, I've never done those kinds of tests. A lot of people don't think about it, but the risks are real. And don't get me wrong, I trust you, but even though you trust me, diseases don't discriminate. And I'd like us both to have that peace of mind. Prevention is never too much."

“You conflict me deeply. On the one hand, I admire how responsible you are; it's very cute. But on the other hand, I just urgently need you to fuck me deep and cum inside me”

Spencer was surprised by my desperate whining and tensed when I placed one of my legs around his waist, trying to persuade him. But I was even more surprised when I felt him pull completely away to stand beside the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"To the pharmacy," he announced, putting a jacket over his bare torso.

"Are you serious?" I laughed widely, sitting on the bed now that my companion had moved away.

"Definitely. I feel like I can't handle it any longer, it’s physically painful, and when you talk to me like that, it just drives me crazy” he groaned, joining in the fun. It was the first time something like this happened, and I honestly thought it was absolutely hilarious “I'll be back in a minute, I swear! Please, don't go...”

"I couldn't," I murmured sweetly. He came closer, and I took the opportunity to kiss him again "Be quick. I'll be waiting anxiously for you."

Something in my tone of voice affected the man, or maybe it was the wink I gave him, but I saw him bolt out the door. I flopped back onto the bed, taking a moment to digest what was happening.

I have to admit that my classmate had always been attractive to me, but I never thought he could feel the same way. Not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would be waiting for him in his bed so that, with any luck, he could ravish me without holding back.

As I reached out my arms, I could feel the fabric of the shirt I had previously removed from him, and then I brought it up to my nose, inhaling without thinking. A familiar scent hit me immediately: the mix of sweet cocktails he had drank during the party and a subtle trace of cannabis, as if the night was still impregnated in him. I could distinguish a hint of wood, perhaps from the furniture in the place, combined with a light scent of sweat that was not bothersome, but rather natural. And then, among all that, there was his perfume: a citrus and spicy aroma that evoked something fresh, but also deep, sensual, as if every molecule of his being was waiting for something more. I breathed harder, feeling that this aroma, this moment, defined him.

I didn't know why that particular night my whole body was screaming for his closeness. I was crazy about him and it wasn't the alcohol's fault, because I'd had too many drinks to know. Neither of us had ever done drugs and for a moment I was terrified by the idea that I could want to be with someone like that, with such fervor that it was worrying.

Still dizzy from the excitement of the moment, I lowered one of my hands to my crotch to get rid of my panties. I thought about him, wondering how skilled he was. Not that I doubted his abilities, but just like I’d told him that night, he might need some practice.

I started to fantasize about helping him through this situation, maybe guiding him or pampering him by just asking him to lay back so I could do all the work. Spencer was the kind of man who invited you to please him, the kind of man you wanted to satisfy because he never pressured you into it.

Playing with myself, I sniffed his shirt again, desperately wishing I could have the source of said scent with me, until my brain was filled only with daydreams in which he was the protagonist and my fingers were replaced by his. That's why I didn't notice when he opened the apartment. And that's why I didn't know he was watching me from the door frame until I heard him let out a ragged sigh.

Being caught in that position made me feel embarrassed at first, but the way he practically lunged at me and kissed me more decisively than before, I figured he liked seeing me like that.

"Busy?"

I was caught off guard by his sassiness and I knew he was proud of it by the smile I felt on my neck.

“I guess you found what we need, right?”

“Uh-huh”

“Have you read any books on female anatomy?”

“Quite a few”

“So I guess you know a lot about sexuality, don’t you?”

“In theory, yes. Unfortunately, I haven’t had many opportunities to put it into practice.”

A smile spread across my face, which luckily he couldn't see because he was too busy leaving a trail of kisses along the top of my torso.

“How unfortunate, considering you’re a scientist. I wouldn’t mind becoming an object of your study, though, you know?”

He subtly slid the straps of my dress and revealed my bra, from which a considerable part of my boobs protruded, which he happily kissed.

At the same time his hand came down to caress me, making me shiver with anticipation, resting on just the right spots. It was the least I could expect from such an intellectual man, one who definitely knew about the thousands of nerve endings concentrated in my clitoris, which he was definitely tapping into to satisfy me.

“May I?” he whispered, looking at the little underwear he still had on.

I nodded immediately and arched my back to make it easier for him to unbutton it, which didn't take too long. He was practically worshipping every inch of my skin, which, combined with his gentle yet firm fingers rubbing me, was driving me crazy.

We both moaned in unison as he pushed a finger into me. It felt just as good as I had imagined.

I had read somewhere that, physiologically, women need more time to achieve an orgasm and although none of my exes had cared about that, this one seemed to know that fact. Maybe that was why he was giving me such attention, which I was undoubtedly grateful for.

“Honey…” I choked out “you’re doing great, really, really good, but would you mind if we replaced those fingers? I want to feel you inside me,” I practically begged.

I never begged, I felt like a fool doing it, but if that got me the intensity of the kiss he gave me, I wouldn't mind starting to do it.

Spencer pulled away from me, searching for the packet of condoms he'd run off to get, and while he unbuttoned his pants I got rid of my dress, which by this point was just a mass of fabric around my waist.

My body wasn't perfect, but I figured that wouldn't matter to him. Besides, I doubt he'd be rude enough to mention it.

“Need a hand?” I joked playfully, noticing that he was struggling to open the silver package.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little nervous,” he said to himself, hoping I wouldn’t mind too much.

I wanted to reward him for treating me so well a few moments ago and I took the package from his hands, placing my palm on his chest until I laid him down against the mattress. Once in that position it wasn't difficult to get rid of the wrapping to place the piece of latex on him, thinking that I didn't have a single complaint about his body.

My hands on him made him nervous and I watched him turn into a mess as I began pumping his cock up and down to make sure he had the condom on properly.

“You don’t have to hold back. I like the sounds you make,” I exclaimed in a velvety tone, trying to sound as genuine as possible “That way I know you’re enjoying it.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to hold out for much longer,” he confessed, as my hand continued to move along his length. Although I wished I could take better care of him, I understood the situation.

“Your wish is my command”

He didn't complain when I put each leg on his sides and he bravely hardened as I teased him for a moment before sinking my pussy onto his dick. I started slow, trying to make him last as long as possible, but with each second it was getting harder to keep up a pace.

I tried my best to ride him, trying to give him the best experience as a thank you for all his hospitality. And from the whimpers coming out of his throat I assume I was doing my job well.

At some point his hands ended up on my hips, guiding me as he pleased. Sometimes he pushed me down, as if he wanted to get to the bottom of me, and other times he manipulated me so that the thrusts were fast.

He wasn't lying when he said he would cum in no time, as the repressed desire added to the previous sexual actions had him on the edge of the abyss. I knew he had reached orgasm when he closed his eyes and his hips slammed against me, in erratic movements.

I kept riding him a little longer, chasing my own climax, and when I got it I put my hands against his chest, arching in pleasure. Spencer, breathing heavily, grabbed my wrists in his hands and then pulled me so that I was against his torso, my lips too close to his.

He placed his palm on my cheek and pulled me in his direction, seemingly asking for a kiss. I granted it.

“Are you satisfied?”

“I am,” I sighed wryly. It was cute that he didn’t know that sometimes girls don’t even make it. “How was it for you?”

“I'm speechless.”

I laughed and, to a certain extent, felt flattered that I had left a man who knew a million ways to express himself in that state.

We enjoyed the high we had just had for a few minutes and waited for our breathing to slow down; when our sighs took the same rhythm, he spoke again.

“You should go to the bathroom. It’s, uh… healthy for you to do it after every encounter.”

I reached for the garment he had been wearing and, trying to protect myself from the cold air, I put it on over myself.

“Do you mind lending it to me?”

“Nu-huh,” he hummed, eyeing me as if I were a cupcake. I would later learn how affected he was to see me using his clothes to slide out of bed.

When I came out of the bathroom he already had his boxers on, probably wanting to maintain modesty, and when he went to attend to his needs I also looked for my panties. It wasn't long before he returned to keep me company.

“Do you want to cuddle? I’d feel like a whore if I just left”

“Yes, of course I want”

He made sure to throw anything that was on the bed onto the floor and patted the pillows to make them more comfortable. I settled into the space next to him, leaning against his chest, right at heart level.

One of his arms was holding me from behind and in some strange way that made me feel safe; protected.

“Your feet are frozen, are you cold?”

"Not much"

“Do you want me to get you some socks?”

“I’m fine, Spencer,” I laughed softly. I brushed my cheek against his skin and tried to snuggle closer to him. “It’ll just get colder if you leave.”

“Did you know that the human body is incredibly efficient at maintaining its temperature? When two bodies are nearby, like… now,” he paused, settling a little closer to me, “heat transfer occurs due to thermal radiation and direct conduction. Essentially, each body generates heat that helps the other maintain a stable core temperature.”

“So you’re like a human blanket”

“That’s right. In fact, in situations of severe hypothermia, sharing body heat in this way can literally save lives.”

I raised my head to look at him and noticed an excited gleam in his eyes, the one he always had when he shared something from his vast knowledge.

“I’ve been thinking quite a bit about what you said earlier, about female anatomy,” seeing him frown, I continued, “No field of study considers one experimentation enough, right? Everything needs to be replicated two, three, four times. Ten times if necessary.”

“Your guess is quite accurate.”

“Say no more. We must give everything if it is in the name of science”

From the smile on his face, I knew that my joke had pleased him and that my proposal seemed to please him. To seal the deal I reached up and kissed him softly. We remained silent for a while, him caressing me over his own shirt and me enjoying the closeness.

“I like you a lot”

“I had a feeling,” I teased, earning a soft laugh from him “I really like you, too."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and for some stupid reason a blush crept up my cheeks, even though we had just had sex. I carefully placed myself on top of his body and buried my face in his neck, feeling him hug me around the waist.

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, I could tell by how calm his breathing was becoming, and I tried to enjoy the peace he emanated a little longer, until, eventually, Morpheus picked me up in his arms too.

@spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @shuichiakainx @gghostwriter @cafters @weallhaveadestiny @your-left-sock @jaeminsmilk @tmrs-basilisk @kristennotstewart @lostinwonderland314 @f4tpo3s @lortheswiftie @dark-unicorn222 @samsienichole @blackholegladiator @gretaandthatsit @cherrysprlte @halfbloodwriter @piercethefic @reidingandallthat @ariel-23-19 @zorrasucia @ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat @juluina @kylakins88 @tinainaction @sadroses98 @dumbbunnys-safes @bowerfeithwk @freyafriggafrey

Thank you very much for your interest! I hope you liked it, if you feel like it, let me know what you think :)

[noodledragonsoop]

(Yes, I understand OP mentioned that they were aware of other opinions. I just want to go on a rant about this, it’s certainly not directed at OP. :))

Unpopular opinion here, but I don’t like an overwhelming amount of these words.

I see so many posts hating on ‘said,’ talking about avoiding it at all costs.

If a book didn’t have ‘said’ at all and was just these, I wouldn’t be able to finish it. I need something that makes it feel normal. If too much said bothers you, structure your writing in a way that allows you to use less dialogue tags! Get creative with it, challenge yourself.

If you’re just trying to add flavor, making the dialogue tag verb more descriptive, in my opinion, is the laziest way you can do that. Ruining immersion? You can’t be serious.

I don’t want to know how she growled a sentence.

I want to hear her teeth grinding in rage that masks the stab of betrayal she’s experienced. I want to see her turn away as her hands twitch and her heart thunders in her ears.

I don’t want to hear that he chuckled a response.

I want to see the way his eyes light up with joy as his shoulders ease into a more relaxed position. I want to see the worry lines on his forehead melt into a smile, and I want to hear the crackly undertone his laugh carries from barely ever using it.

I want to feel what they feel, that’s how I am immersed.

I fear ‘spicing it up’ with too many of these words is like adding bright balloons to a plain room. Like sure, it adds plenty of color, but wouldn’t you rather take the time to decorate the room itself than fill it with things that distract you from how plain it might be otherwise?

I think I’ll always prefer ‘said’ and a better description than a more descriptive verb. Of course, don’t avoid using them just because of it, but it’s so easy (again, in my opinion) to overuse them to an extreme.

100 Dialogue Tags You Can Use Instead of “Said”

For the writers struggling to rid themselves of the classic ‘said’. Some are repeated in different categories since they fit multiple ones (but those are counted once so it adds up to 100 new words). 

1. Neutral Tags 

Straightforward and unobtrusive dialogue tags: 

Added, Replied, Stated, Remarked, Responded, Observed, Acknowledged, Commented, Noted, Voiced, Expressed, Shared, Answered, Mentioned, Declared.

2. Questioning Tags 

Curious, interrogative dialogue tags:

Asked, Queried, Wondered, Probed, Inquired, Requested, Pondered, Demanded, Challenged, Interjected, Investigated, Countered, Snapped, Pleaded, Insisted.

3. Emotive Tags 

Emotional dialogue tags:

Exclaimed, Shouted, Sobbed, Whispered, Cried, Hissed, Gasped, Laughed, Screamed, Stammered, Wailed, Murmured, Snarled, Choked, Barked.

4. Descriptive Tags 

Insightful, tonal dialogue tags: 

Muttered, Mumbled, Yelled, Uttered, Roared, Bellowed, Drawled, Spoke, Shrieked, Boomed, Snapped, Groaned, Rasped, Purred, Croaked.

5. Action-Oriented Tags 

Movement-based dialogue tags: 

Announced, Admitted, Interrupted, Joked, Suggested, Offered, Explained, Repeated, Advised, Warned, Agreed, Confirmed, Ordered, Reassured, Stated.

6. Conflict Tags 

Argumentative, defiant dialogue tags:

Argued, Snapped, Retorted, Rebuked, Disputed, Objected, Contested, Barked, Protested, Countered, Growled, Scoffed, Sneered, Challenged, Huffed.

7. Agreement Tags 

Understanding, compliant dialogue tags: 

Agreed, Assented, Nodded, Confirmed, Replied, Conceded, Acknowledged, Accepted, Affirmed, Yielded, Supported, Echoed, Consented, Promised, Concurred.

8. Disagreement Tags 

Resistant, defiant dialogue tags: 

Denied, Disagreed, Refused, Argued, Contradicted, Insisted, Protested, Objected, Rejected, Declined, Countered, Challenged, Snubbed, Dismissed, Rebuked.

9. Confused Tags 

Hesitant, uncertain dialogue tags:

Stammered, Hesitated, Fumbled, Babbled, Mumbled, Faltered, Stumbled, Wondered, Pondered, Stuttered, Blurted, Doubted, Confessed, Vacillated.

10. Surprise Tags

Shock-inducing dialogue tags:

Gasped, Stunned, Exclaimed, Blurted, Wondered, Staggered, Marvelled, Breathed, Recoiled, Jumped, Yelped, Shrieked, Stammered.

Note: everyone is entitled to their own opinion. No I am NOT telling people to abandon said and use these. Yes I understand that said is often good enough, but sometimes you WANT to draw attention to how the character is speaking. If you think adding an action/movement to your dialogue is 'good enough' hate to break it to you but that ruins immersion much more than a casual 'mumbled'. And for the last time: this is just a resource list, CALM DOWN. Hope that covers all the annoyingly redundant replies :)

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors!

Instagram Tiktok

[player380]

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- disco pang pang

━━━ ↳ ❝ [ se-mi x f! reader ] ¡! ❞

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ in which you try out the infamous disco pang pang ride with your friends in incheon, south korea, and end up having the ride moderator attempt to set you up with the stoic, pretty woman sitting next to you┊2.1k words

contains: potential ooc se-mi (we don't really know too much about her but my hyperfixation has deluded me to believe my own headcanons that were created by the bit we saw her in s2), fluff, some minor hints of sexual content, wlw, teaser x teased, & non-canonical nonsense, au!! the games never took place & se-mi is lowkey loaded (which i may write more about in another fic idea i have oops), i also am not very sure of any korean customs (im a white american) so please please please let me know if any of the manners of this are wrong so i can correct it, also this has not been proofread yet so enjoy any spelling or grammar errors <3

After much debate with your close girl friends, that you were on a trip into the big city with, they had practically dragged you to the long line of awaiting people to try out this silly ride. Each of their hands clasped tightly around your sweaty palms, forcing your feet to shuffle into your spot at the back of the line. It was a warm spring day, the sun beating down only to be combated by a pleasant breeze. So, of course, most would find themselves spending the day at the Wolmi Theme Park in South Korea. The three of you had already spent the majority of the day entertaining yourselves with other rides, though with yourself often choosing to opt out of riding many--given rollercoasters had a habit of making you queasy. Yet, after much convincing and deliberation, you had allowed them to take you on this ride. They had claimed that it wasn't that scary, and was oftentimes quite fun. But as you got into line and saw the ever-moving ride your stomach dropped and your face paled. Laughter and screams echoed around as the current set of riders were being bounced up and down whilst the ride spun everyone in round in differing speeds. As you watched this, you couldn't help but feel the corn dogs you just had thirty-minutes prior rising their way through your innards.

While you stood there, mouth agape, your friends had busied themselves with calling their boyfriends back home in the countryside. Snapping you out of your scared daze, was a smooth laugh from beside--even smoother words following in pursuit.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," a woman laughed from beside you, your eyes narrowing as they traveled up the body beside you in line. Taking notice of her skinny ripped black jeans, the loose tank top that had a bit of the side tucked into the waistband of her jeans, and a black leather jacket over her shoulders. Her face was adorned in few piercings: just one silver ring on her lip, the other a silver ring on her left nostril (a gem-incrusted sun on where the ring met the visible skin). Her hair was short, some strands of her black hair covering the right side of her head slightly. Her narrow features complimented her stylistic choices. And by all means: the woman was completely, and utterly gorgeous.

After a few minutes of silence, your eyes only widening upon seeing the pretty woman, she spoke up again. "Are you alright? Surely you haven't actually seen a ghost," she replied, her thin brows furrowing slightly as she stared at you--her head cocked to the side just a hair. She was concerned for your wellbeing. How cute.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," you blinked, snapping out of your haze and returning your gaze to the still-moving ride--swallowing hard. "I just don't like rides like this," you added and nodded awkwardly. "Not really my thing."

The woman beside you nodded, letting out a quiet hum as her gaze follows yours up to the ride. "It's not that bad," she commented, letting out a quiet laugh. "Just make sure to hold on tight."

"What?" You asked, misunderstanding her words and her eyes widening slightly.

The woman laughed harder, shaking her head. "The bars, hold on tight to the bars," she corrected, tilting her head. "Or your friends."

You suddenly felt the presence of your two friends who had gotten off facetime with their partners, and were now standing beside you once more--staring at the taller woman with slightly furrowed brows. The woman just nodded once, before turning back around and facing the front of the line. Leaving you to suffer the teasing looks and questions from your friends for the remainder of the wait in line.

Eventually, after growing slightly impatient from standing still for so long, it was finally your group's turn to file onto the circular ride. The eager group of riders all excitedly piled on, sounds of annoyed groans coming from the people who were cut off and had to wait another round.

Your friends rushed to a spot, sitting on the seats and giggling excitedly. Their hands reached behind themselves to grab the plastic and metal bars--wrapping their arms around the slick material in hopes to stay (mostly) still throughout the ride.

You sat there awkwardly, trying to mimic your friend's actions but you found yourself struggling to keep yourself comfortable. You didn't realize the woman who was in front of you in line was sitting beside you until you felt her hands gently guiding your arms to wrap around the bars--her hand resting there for a moment and looking over you.

"Comfy?" She asked you, raising a brow slightly.

Your face, now red, moved up to meet her gaze--nodding awkwardly. "Yeah, thanks," you said, voice quiet, and pressing a small smile up as another bout of gratitude. Her dark eyes traveled over you for a second, smiling and giving a nod back. She moved to sit beside you, leaving the width of a person and a half between you two.

Unfortunately for your humility, the ride moderator had noticed the small interaction and so once the ride started slowly spinning--your face all but heated when you heard the moderator's loud voice call out your descriptor over the speakers. Little did you know the running internet joke that if the moderator called you out, you were done for.

"Are you two together?" The male moderator's voice called out, "you, tweed skirt and the h/c hair. And you, short black hair and the leather jacket," he described. Your heart all but dropped. Before you could reply, the woman next to you beat you to it:

"No, we aren't," she yelled, her voice loud over the mechanics of the machine and the loud sounds from around the theme park.

"Do you want to be?" The moderator called out, a hint over amusement carrying over in his voice.

You shook your head, laughing awkwardly. "No, no it's okay. I came here with my friends," you replied, brows furrowing in embarrassment--trying to ignore the giggles from your friends beside you.

"Ah, no, no, let me fix that," the moderator said, laughing, and your heart dropped from his mischievous tone.

Suddenly, the ride was tilted all the way to the left side and began bouncing slightly. Lifting you up and down from your seat, your sweaty hands barely holding onto the plastic bars as gravity tried to pull you to where the woman beside you was sitting. She seemed to keep her body planted firmly--hardly moving. The ups and downs got harsher, and before you knew it, one of your arms slipped from the bar and you fell slightly down to your left. You felt another leg wrap around yours--realizing it was the woman's, who was trying to keep you steady so you didn't fall.

You grunted as you moved to steady yourself back onto the seat, pulling your leg from hers and attempting to grab back onto the bars. Before you could succeed, another unexpected bump made your other arm slip--letting out a yelp as you stumbled off the seat and about to start rolling on the metal floor of the ride. You didn't go very far before you found your body ensnared by both the woman's legs--holding your torso tightly as to make sure you didn't fall anymore.

As the bumps continued, you felt one of her hands grab your arm and pull you up--setting you on her lap. Your face burned with embarrassment and awkwardness at the entire situation--wishing you hadn't even let your friends convince you to get on this stupid ride to begin with. Her legs entangled with yours, an arm wrapping around your waist and pressing your back tight against her front. Her fingers found purchase on your hip, pressing into the part tightly.

"Are you okay?" She asked, tilting her head so her mouth was right next to your ear, her voice quiet. God was her voice attractive.

You nodded, the consistent bumps making the two of you rise up from your seats occasionally--but your landings were cushioned by the woman's body beneath you. It was almost strangely nice. No. You shouldn't think like that. She was an entire stranger. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks," you replied, turning your head slightly--though not realizing how close your faces would be. You quickly turned your head back around forward--your cheeks the color of a tomato.

As the ride continued on, the moderator still continued to pick on the two of you, moving you two around. Even with the woman's firm grip on your body, you had somehow ended up turned around--your legs straddling her hips. Her jacket had been moved to wrap around your waist so no one could see how your skirt rid up, allowing some form of modesty. There were some other instances of other people flailing around and landing on others, however you could hardly pay any mind to the others on this ride given your situation. This continued on throughout the ride's duration, before eventually the machine came to a stop--the moderator thanking everyone, though still finding a way to insert a tease about the two women's interactions throughout the ride.

You shakily got off of the woman--pulling your skirt down and untying the jacket around your waist, holding it back out to her. "Um, thanks for this. And for making sure I don't fall," you muttered, looking down at your feet. When she took the jacket, you quickly took off and found your friends at the exit of the ride--trying to ignore the burning throughout your body as their incessant teases fueled your embarrassment.

Before you could get far, a female voice called out and you turned around--your eyes widening as the woman before approached, slightly out of breath from the small jog. Your friends looked at each other with raised brows, both backing away to leave you two to yourselves.

"Oh-- um, hi," you said, brows furrowing slightly. "Did you need something?"

"How long are you in Incheon for? Or do you live here?" She asked, her chest still rising up and down with rapid breaths. She almost sounded hopeful, and a bubbly filling filled your stomach. As if someone had opened a cage of butterflies between your ribcages.

You blinked, looking away from her for a moment. "No, I don't live here. Just visiting with my friends... but I'm not sure. A couple more days, at least. We didn't really have an end date. Why?" You asked, licking your lips slightly--and you watched as her eyes flickered to your slightly damp, pink lips for a moment before she looked back up at your eyes.

"Let me take you sight-seeing around the city, yeah?" She asked, despite her cool demeanor, she almost seemed nervous. "You don't have to, but it'd--"

"Sure," you cut her off, flashing an almost-nervous smile of your own. "I'd like that, my friends and I aren't really super knowledgeable around anyway. I'm sure they'd like it too."

Her face flickered with some unknown expression and she shook her head. "No, not them. Just you... and I," she said, sucking in a long breath.

"Oh," you breathed, your brows raising. "Yeah, my answer is still the same. I would like that," you answered, emphasizing the 'I' in your sentence. The woman nodded, any nervousness or tension immediately lifted from her demeanor.

"Good," she said, grinning. "Let me get your number," she said--pulling out her phone from her back pocket, opening it, and shoving it in your direction with the screen showing an empty contact form to fill out. You nodded, and took the phone to begin typing in some things in each slot. "I'm Se-mi, by the way," she added, her eyes watching you intently--studying every and all aspect of your face.

Once you finished, you looked back up at Se-mi and handed her phone. "Well... just give me a message, Se-mi. I should be free, well, if I can ever escape those two for a moment," she laughed, tilting her head back to where her friends stood--watching the two of you interact with large grins.

Se-mi nodded, watching your form retreat as you handed her phone back and went back to your friends who immediately began pestering you for information on your new 'hot date', as they called it. She looked back down at her phone, studying your name on the contact--trying to burn it into her memory.

"Y/n...," she said slowly, nodding as she enjoyed the feel of it on her tongue. Knowing full well she was going to be saying that name for a long time. Or, well, at least she hoped.

Who knew your friends dragging you onto a silly ride could lead to any of this.

[xoxxbilliexoxx]

I Can Help With That ;)

After months of no sex and a now insatiable hunger to get fucked, your best friend Billie offers to help you out.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

you were laying on billie’s couch, legs draped across her as you continued on listening to her crazy ass story of her most recent hookup. You two have a friendship that allows for nothing to be kept secret. Every thought, every memory, every story, and every moment is shared with each other. So, listening to her go on and on about how happy she was to be munching on some random models coochie is just another normal day for you.

The only difference is your mood. It seems as though you’ve been going through a dry spell, with no sex for too many months to count. You just got tired of the random hookups and messy situations it always leads to and stopped putting yourself out there. Within the last week, your craving to be pleased by someone other than yourself has become insatiable. Masterbating just isn’t doing it, you need to be properly fucked by someone again.

As you listened to your best friend paint the scene of her last sexscapade you felt a pit forming in your stomach. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t stop it. You felt so hungry for pleasure. It’s not her you were horny for necessarily, it’s just the image of fucking a girl again, of being messily wrapped around another body, laid out with sheets tangled between you and the sound of heavy breathing taking up the room.

You were completely zoned out, caught up in your own little erotic daydreaming before Billie snapped you out of it. “Y/n, hello? I asked you a question, did you hear me?” she laughed at your startled face, clearly having drawn you out of a deep thought too suddenly. “what the hell were you thinking about girl” “it’s nothing sorry,” you swallowed, “what was your question again?” you asked as you pulled all your attention back into the conversation. “I wanna know your last juicy hookup, you always pull bad bitches” She nudged your shoulder making you laugh as she said it.

“fuck, dude I am still in that fucking dry spell. I can’t even remember the last time I had sex it’s pathetic” you laughed as the sad confession came out. Billie laughed with you, slightly making fun of your situation before you kept going. “At first it wasn’t bad, I really didn’t care. I mean at first I was having fun making myself cum and not having to deal with other people’s bullshit” “HAAHAH so fucking fair” Billie interrupted you but you continued. “But now though, oh my god. Girl, in the last two weeks I cannot fucking curb this hunger. I am so horny nonstop like, I swear I get myself off and the second I catch my breath I’m horny again. It’s fucking ridiculous” you laughed out. “Like I’m starting to feel insane. I need to go get fucked cuz this horny fucking monster in my brain is not liking my rose toy or my fingers anymore” Billie laughed hard at your words, and you joined in with her.

“Get back on tinder girl, we gotta feed that nasty monster i’ve never seen you like this it’s scary” you pushed her shoulder and clicked your tongue at her dramatic response, which she of course said with a classic mischievous grin you’ve seen too often on her face. She’s always so proud of her stupid jokes.

“I just hate tinder dude. It’s always so awkward and half the time the sex is ass anyways” you paused as she nods in agreement before you kept going. “take me to one of your award shows and introduce me to some of these bad bitches you always end up going home with” you winked and she smiled again, this time a confident slightly devilish smirk showing the pride she has for all those “bad bitches” she does have many good memories with. “I do be pullin huh” you rolled your eyes and flipped her off “don’t make me jealous you idiot”

There was a short pause to the conversation, you could see Billie’s gears turning in her head before she turned to look back at you, eyebrows raised and lips turned upwards again. “I could always just fuck ya” as she said it she shrugged, so matter of fact and nonchalant with her bold statement. “eww billie shut up you weirdo you’re my best friend” “first off, how dare you say ew, bitch. Second off I'm your hot best friend so get that straight” You smiled at her with your eyebrows raised, amusement coating your face, keeping quiet to let her finish her clearly unfinished sentence. “It doesn’t have to mean anything obviously, You’re hot, I'm hot, we’re completely comfortable with each other, we love each other, even if it’s just as friends, and you’re in a messy predicament that I can easily get you out of. I mean, I got all these bad bitches moaning and cumming like crazy i’m just sayin” She grinned and giggled at the end, knowing her fuck boy statement was ridiculous.

You both went silent, laughter filling the void as you think. Billie’s own mind wandered to the thought of making you feel good, and she began to feel her own curious desire building. You couldn’t ignore the horny energy coursing through you, it was impossible to not feel. Before your brain could talk yourself out of it you move. You got yourself up and sit back down straddling her lap with a smile and half hooded eyes looking down at Billie. She gasped for a second, somewhat shocked you were actually going along with this, before she planted her hands down and grabbed a handful of your ass.

There was a moment when your eyes met and you both giggled, amused by what was unfolding, knowing you’re both going to laugh about it afterwards as if it’s just another dumb thing you do as best friends. But as that giggle faded it’s replaced with a hunger, a growing desire and increasing erotic tension. The eye contact stayed and the smiles disappeared and suddenly your lips were wrapped between each other.

It was gentle at first, timid almost, as you both let go of the brief awkwardness of making out with your best friend for the first time. But within seconds it became passionate, heated, sloppy. Her hands continued to grab and pull at your ass over your cheeky sweatshorts, before she built confidence and slipped her hands under, now feeling your hot skin against her fingertips.

When her hands pushed you tighter against her your hips grinded and the sudden sensation against your clit made you moan quietly into the kiss. Billie pulled away and looked at you, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth in her sexy smirk as she heard your moan, immediately needing to hear more of them. She grabbed your bottom and stood you both up before turning and laying you down. Now hovering over you, Billie’s hungry eyes found yours and you could see an expression you’d never seen on her before, a dominant aroused one that maked your heart stop and goosebumps erupt all across your skin.

The feeling of her plump wet lips on your neck, placing sloppy kisses on every sliver of your skin, sucking and biting occasionally, made you moan louder. You were slowly melting into her touch, into the way she was working you up more and more. The throbbing at your core became hard to ignore and you knew you were making such a mess of your underwear as she made you more and more wet.

Billie’s eager lips found your sweet spot, sucking on your skin just below your ear, and your sweet loud moan filled her living room. “Mmmm you sound so good like that baby, so sexy hearing you moan” Your hand landed on the back of her neck, pulling her closer to your skin, needing more of her, searching for anything. She sped up her pace, kissing all over your neck and collarbones before pulling you up to take off your shirt and bralette. As you landed back on the sofa your boobs moved up and down with the motion. Billie watched with wide eyes and a big smile, you knew she’s always wanted to see them, you have found her staring at them far too often.

She wasted no time, immediately pulling your nipple into her mouth and sucking before letting it go with a pop and moving onto your other boob. Her passionate and intense attack on your chest was a clear indication of her own arousal growing. This might have just been two friends helping each other out, but that doesn’t mean you both aren’t incredibly attracted to each other and currently incredibly horny for one another. The melodies of heavy breathing and sloppy kisses filled the room and made it all quite apparent.

Billie’s lips trailed down your stomach slowly. She stopped often to bite and suck on the skin beneath her, each time pulling sweet squeaks and moans from your lips. She was enamored, fully taken over by a need to satisfy you, to give you everything you’d been missing for too long. She was taking her time, winding you up and building your desire until it was so intense you might explode. She wanted you so sensitive by the time she gave you what you wanted, that it would take only seconds to bring you to the edge.

Just before she got to the waistline of your shorts she moved back up to you, causing you to let out a deep sigh. You weren’t aware of all the air you were holding in until she stopped her sloppy, intoxicating descent down your body. As her lips found your face again her hands landed on your waist. Squeezing you tightly, Billie moaned in your ear, low and sultry, and moving straight to your wet core. The sound maked your head feel dizzy, like your body was experiencing too much need and arousal and you might pass out if you didn’t get fucked soon. Her lips pulled away from yours after a deep kiss and she whispered into your ear, “Let’s move to my room, I wanna have you laid out across my bed for me”

With that she tapped the side of your butt twice and stood up. You began to follow after her, feeling eager but slightly exposed, the cold air on your naked chest coating you in goosebumps. Billie turned to look at you and was immediately mesmerized by your freed boobs swaying and jumping as you walked. When you got to her room you jumped on the bed, giggling slightly as you watched her pull off her own top and jump on with you. Her bralette was just slightly too small, leaving her huge boobs spilling out of each side and top. Billie crawled over to you, hovering above and smirking down at you. As she looked at your body laid out under her, her tongue pushed against the inside of her cheek.

“You are too much y/n. So fucking sexy its ridiculous” You blushed at her compliment and reached above you, grabbing her face with both of your hands and pulling her down to join with you again. Her lips found yours quickly, and your tongues met not long after. You both let out moans that vibrated into the kiss. Moving your hands to Billie’s back, you searched eagerly for the clasp of her bralette. As you pulled it apart and the back dropped down, Billie moved one arm at a time and finally fully freed her boobs. You gasped at the sight of her pink hard nipples and big ivory boobs lightly grazing against your own, admittedly also having been caught staring at them too many times in your friendship.

Your head lifted up as your hand grabbed her boob, guiding it between your lips. A gasp followed by a deep moan filled the room as you eagerly sucked and bit on her nipples. The sudden pleasure made Billie’s body give out slightly, landing her knee between your legs to catch herself. You moved yourself down a bit more to continue your affection on her boobs and as you did your clit grazed her knee, immediately making you gasp. Billie let out a mischievous giggle before pushing your hips down and pulling her knee up, intensifying the pressure and the pleasure right away.

She pulled her boobs away from you and you groaned, missing them in your mouth immediately. She filled the void with her lips on your neck and her hands pulled at your hips, forcing you to begin grinding against her knee. Your back arched up and as you grinded you felt the crotch of your baggy shorts slip to the side. Now, just your soaked panties laid between you and Billie’s thigh. As you continued your motion Billie felt your wetness slipping against her, causing her own panties to get soaked. The sudden evidence of your wet arousal made something snap in Billies mind, “I need to taste you, fuck you’re so wet for me” She moved down quickly, getting herself comfortable between your legs before slipping off your shorts and thong at the same time.

“Godddddd so fucking pretty” Billie moaned after loudly swallowing. Your dripping pussy clenched in front of her as reality hit that you are about to get eaten out, finally after too many long months. The sensation of Billie’s smooth wet tongue slowly slipping between your folds sent a shockwave through your body. The comforter rustled as your hands dug around, trying to grab hold, trying to ground yourself. Her tongue flattened out wide and continued licking from your leaking entrance all the way up to your clit, where she stopped briefly and added pressure. She’s too good, it was making you melt and you felt like you were floating, no longer on earth. Your head felt cloudier and cloudier as her pleasure became the only thing you could feel. Her tongue continued sloppily consuming you, slurping you up at each lick before moving up to your clit. She knew exactly what she was doing, her actions pulling you closer and closer to the edge already.

As your moans got louder and louder and the pleasure consumed you, Billie began moving her hands from around your thighs. One traveled up and landed on your boob, pinching and pulling at your nipple, turning your moans to sweet yelps and cries. You could feel her smile against your cunt as her other hand moved down to your center.

Your messy wetness allowed two of her fingers to slip inside you with ease, immediately curling them upwards and pumping in and out slowly and deliberately. She made her tongue flat and hard and pushed it up against your clit. Moving her head side to side, she could feel your swollen bud throbbing under her. The sensation of her fingers filling you perfectly and her tongue playing with your sensitive clit had you gasping. It wasn’t just that you haven’t felt this in awhile that was making things build so quickly. Billie was incredibly skilled, you were learning that quite quickly. You’ve never been eaten out so well. You’ve never been so close to cumming so quickly. It usually takes you a while and you have to focus to feel the pleasure. Not right now, not with Billie. All you could think about was pleasure, it was surrounding you, inside of you, swirling and filling the room. It was everywhere.

“Billie, right there, fuck” your words came out as pants, completely drunk off the way she was fucking you. “Oh god Billie, yessss” She hummed into you, showing how much she loved making you moan. Your walls began pulsing and clenching around her fingers and your thighs squeezed her head tighter as you were pushed closer and closer to the edge. “Mmmm you close mama, you gunna cum for me?” her sultry tone was laced with pride as she continued devouring you and watching you squirm in front of her. “Yes yes yes Billie fuck I’m gunna cum”

Just as the words left your lips Billie pulled away, a slight seductive giggle hit your ears. You gasped, completely shocked at her actions, and as you lifted your head to confront her you were met with a shit eating grin spread across her face. “awe, did I ruin your orgasm? im sorry” she sarcastically mocked you, the obnoxious smile never leaving her face. “I can’t even keep myself away for long enough to properly tease you, you taste so good, so fucking sweet baby”

her lips latched onto your clit, the warmth of her mouth against your now cold cunt sent shivers through you. You didn’t expect Billie to be treating you like this, you thought she’d give you the basic stuff and make you cum quickly to satiate the hunger in you, but now, now she’s making it grow even stronger.

It only took a few minutes of sloppy sucking and licking for your orgasm to rise again. Her fingers were moving faster and her lips were wrapped tight around ur clit, sucking and licking and sucking and licking. With your hands tangled in her hair and your legs spread as far as they could go, you pushed Billie as tight against your pussy as possible, trying hard to hold in the loud moans that we’re fighting to come out. “I’m gunna cum, I- I’m gunna cum, right there Billie” she listened close to your breathing, trying to take in all the noises you were making that were turning her on too much. As she heard your gasps becoming more and more erratic and chaotic she knew you were close again.

Within seconds her mouth was gone, placing light kisses on your inner thighs and laughing again at your groans. Her fingers were still inside of you but they were still, no longer moving in and out. She could feel the way your walls pulsed around her as she edged you out of your almost orgasm.

“Fuck, Billie, please let me cum, you’re killing me” you whined out, getting too heated and too needy now. “oh but edging you and hearing you beg is so much more fun” she paused to place another kiss on your thigh, this time so close to your pussy it made you gasp. she smiled against your skin before speaking again, “And it’ll feel sooooo much better when I finally let you cum, be patient for a little longer babygirl, it’ll be worth it.” Your stomach flipped at the nickname and your head began to feel fuzzy from the rollercoaster of pleasure she’s been making you feel.

Billie did it all over again, building you up higher and higher with her talented tongue and fingers. The room was filled with the sound of your wetness against her mouth, and your gasps and moans that you tried hard to hold it but couldn’t. You felt like you were becoming addicted to the way she was fucking you. It was better than anything you’re used to. You were beginning to realize all those stories of her making her partners cum over and over again, and the way she said she’d make them scream, none of it was exaggerated, she was just that good. You almost didn’t want to cum, didn’t want it to end. You knew you couldn’t have this again.

As the cues were showing Billie how close you were yet again, she stopped, yet again. This time, she pulled her fingers out of you, causing you to whine at the emptiness and at the feeling of your orgasm disappearing again. Your eyes opened to the sight of Billie right about you. “taste yourself babygirl, taste how delicious you are” Her fingers slid into your mouth and after a moment of swirling your tongue around her she pulled them away, replacing them with her lips. You kissed her passionately, showing your eager desire, needing her to know how fucking hungry you were after being edged too many times to count.

Your growing impatience filled your body, you felt overwhelmed by it and allowed it to fully take control. Your hand gripped her hair and you pulled her back down to where you needed her most, hard and only by her strands of black silk. She sucked in a breath and moaned at your needy and slightly dominant action before landing her lips back on your dripping pussy. She was moving faster than before, like she was a ravenous animal that’d been starved for days. When her fingers, now 3 deep, slipped back into your desperate hole, she moaned out with you, as if she was enjoying this as much as you were. Each of her movements were calculated and deliberate. She was using all her skills, all her tricks on you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, you were being suffocated by the almost unknown pleasure she was bringing you. Her tongue parted with you for just long enough to speak, “Did so good for me love, such a good girl letting me tease you like that. Go on and cum for me, cum all over my fingers and face. Need you to make a mess of me baby” Those words mixed with the return of her tongue sent you over the edge.

You were spiraling, dizzy and overwhelmed as your body erupted into sparks of pleasure. The sensations were almost too much as you screamed out her name over and over. Billie kept going, kept fucking into you, kept licking your clit, kept your orgasm flowing through your body. You knew more was coming, you could feel it. The one thing Billie didn’t know about you was that you could squirt. She was about to learn. It took one last flick of her fingers for the gates to open. You screamed, letting it all out at once as you squirted months of built up tension onto her fingers, her face, her boobs. It was everywhere and you felt like you were no longer on Earth, gasping for air as you began your descent back down.

Your eyes finally opened to see Billie’s bold eyes and big smile, she was still between your legs, still gazing at your fucked out pussy in front of her. “holy shit y/n, that was so fucking hot. I had no idea you could squirt” She was so turned on, she couldn’t stop thinking about how hot you were, how hot it was to watch you cum all over her. Her legs squeezed together unconsciously, but you picked up on it. You knew Billie didn’t start this with the intention of you fucking her but now you needed it.

As she came bakc up towards your face she kissed you on the forehead. You were still trying to catch your breath and stop your legs from continuing to shake with the aftershocks. You looked at her with a satisfied smile and a shaky laugh that came out with each of your breaths. Her face matched yours showing off her complete enjoyment from what just played out. After wiping your cum off of her face she finally broke the silence, “so, did we do it? Are you finally satisfied?” You began to nod, the laughter still coming out each time you breathed.

You flipped yourself on top of her catching her completely off guard before speaking, “I will be once I make you cum” as soon as the words slid off your tongue your lips were backing on hers, moaning at the taste of your own cum coating her mouth.

You both knew this could only be for one night, so you might as well make it a long night.

[building-made-of-paper]

Story time!

My mother loves poker. She played all throughout college and grad school and sometimes goes to poker nights with friends. Nothing crazy high stakes (though she's played with people who make a living off of it) but she does believe that if you're not betting something it's not worth playing. As you might guess, she's more than a little bit competitive.

She has always wanted my sister and I to play poker, and has taught us various different flavors of poker over the years. And in a move that I believe stems from that same desire, she has a tradition of gifting each of us a deck of cards for one of the nights of Channukah. She also snuck decks of cards into our luggage when we moved off to college. She's convinced that if poker is god, then she is the messiah and we are the chosen people.

This year, because Channukah was later than usual, both my sister and I were home to receive our deck of cards and somehow she convinced us that this meant we needed to play poker. ("It's a life skill!" "What if all your friends are starting a poker group?") What she didn't realize was that in one of the decks she had bought the two jokers were the 12 of spades and the 16 of diamonds.

We play for a bit with a couple other decks (partially so my sister can relearn a few different types of poker), and eventually I add the third deck into the mix and volunteer to prepare it between rounds. I shuffle the deck, making sure to force the cards to be near the top of the deck (one side effect of growing up with many many decks of cards is you learn some card tricks, or at least the basics.)

My mother is the dealer that round. We're all dealt cards. Nobody flinches. My sister and I know what's happening, my parents do not. We bet. I do not have great cards. I stay in because if I pull this off I want to still be in play. Out comes the flop. The opening card is the 12 of spades. The other two cards are not face cards, so after much confusion we decide that it must be a stylistic choice. We agree to play it as a queen. We bet again. I am losing money at this point, but that's okay. I'm in it for the bit, not the money.

We turn the river. It's the queen of diamonds. My parents are baffled. No reasonable person would make a stylistic choice such that one queen is a face card and the other is a 12, right? Well, given the store we got these from (which also sells a Magic Flying Butterfly, a bowl made of guitar strings, and many other oddities) the stylistic choices are likely to be confusing.

Over the course of the rest of the game we manage to reveal all four queens. And we also have the 12 of spades. At this point the pot is ruled dead and everyone gets their money back (thank goodness, I would have lost handily), and laughs are had all around. Eventually the deck was searched through and the 16 of diamonds was discovered, to everyone's great amusement.

Moral of the story? Manipulate other people wants and needs so that you can always stay committed to the bit. Or just like have fun, I guess. Yeah maybe don't do that first thing.

[lostfracturess]

REMEMBER ME IN SUMMER — SATORU GOJO

pairing — one night stand!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary — six months ago, you left satoru gojo's apartment before sunrise, thinking you'd never see him again. now, trapped in a beach house for a weekend with mutual friends, you're forced to face the man who doesn't seem to remember that night—or does he? between shared walls, heated touches, and games of pretend, you're starting to think maybe one night wasn't enough after all. but in a house full of friends, some things are better left in the past… right?

word count — 9.5 k

genre/tags — beach house AU, summer romance, one night stand to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, tension, awkward reunions, friends gathering, miscommunication, beach vibes, satoru is a little menace in this one

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, alcohol consumption, all characters aged up (mid 20s), language

author's note — hi everyone ! this fic came out of nowhere, and i literally wrote it in three days, but i really love the idea and the summer vibes in this one, even tho i wrote it while it was literally snowing outside, but somewhere on earth it's summer rn, so why not post it lol. hope you enjoy this mess of a summer romance story as much as i enjoyed writing it ! <3 (credit/art)

masterlist + support my writing

The last person you expected to see in Okinawa was Satoru Gojo.

Yet there he was, lounging on the deck of the beach house like he belonged there, white hair catching the sunlight as he laughed at something someone had said. Your heart tumbled over itself as memories of that night six months ago flooded back unbidden.

"You okay?" Maki nudged you with her elbow. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

More like the ghost of past bad decisions. "I'm fine," you managed, gripping your weekend bag tighter. "Wasn't expecting so many people."

The beach house was supposed to be a simple weekend getaway with close friends. But somewhere between planning and execution, it had turned into a "friends of friends" situation to fill the eight-bedroom house Okkotsu's family had offered.

"Yeah, Yuta's cousin's boyfriend invited some people to fill the space," Maki explained, completely unaware of your internal crisis. "That's Satoru over there, by the way. He's actually pretty fun once you get past the whole—" She gestured vaguely at all of him.

You wanted to laugh. Or cry. Maybe both. Because you were already very familiar with how "fun" Satoru Gojo could be.

Six months ago, you'd met him at a bar in Tokyo. He'd been charming and gorgeous, all easy smiles and playful banter. One drink had turned into several, flirting had turned into kissing, and kissing had turned into...

Well.

You'd slipped out of his apartment before dawn, leaving nothing but a lipstick stain on his collar and a dip in his pillow. It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. You weren't looking for anything serious, and someone like him definitely wasn't the settling down type.

Now, watching him chat lively with your friends like the universe's cruelest joke, you wondered if you should have at least left your number.

"Girl," Maki waved her hand in front of your face. "You sure you're okay?"

Before you could answer, Satoru looked up. His eyes met yours across the deck, and for a moment, your heart stopped. 

But there was no recognition in those sea blue eyes. No hint that he remembered the way you'd gasped his name in the dark, the way his hands had traced every inch of your skin, the way he'd whispered "stay" against your shoulder just before you'd fallen asleep.

He just smiled politely, the same smile he’s probably giving everyone else too, and went back to his conversation.

Right. Of course he didn't remember. You were probably just one in a long line of one-night stands for someone like him. The thought shouldn't hurt as much as it did.

"Come on," Maki said, tugging you towards the house. "Let's get settled in before the others arrive.”

Up close, the beach house was even more impressive. A sprawling three-story mansion of white stone and floor-to-ceiling windows that caught the afternoon light like rippling water, a wraparound veranda with a cozy sitting area led to a private path down to the beach, lined with swaying palms and colourful flowers.

Inside, the house opened into a huge room with soaring ceilings and an open floor plan that made the space feel endless. Ocean views followed you everywhere through the massive windows, and the whole place smelled of salt and lemon.

"The bedrooms are upstairs," Maki said as she led you up a floating staircase. "Most of them are on the second floor, but there are two master bedrooms on the third."

The universe, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor. Not only did you have to spend the weekend pretending you didn’t know how Satoru's brows draw together when he'd cum, but your room ended up right next to his—the two largest bedrooms on the top floor, sharing a wall and a connecting balcony. Of course.

Your room was bigger than your entire apartment in Tokyo, with a king-size bed draped in soft white linens. One wall was entirely glass, offering an unobstructed view of the ocean, while the other walls were decorated with pictures and minimalist art.

"My god, the view’s amazing!" Maki gushed and threw open the balcony doors. The sound of waves immediately filled the room, along with fresh, salty ocean air. "You can see the whole beach from here." 

But you were too busy staring at the wall next to you, where a door that must lead to Satoru's room was hidden behind a cupboard. You could hear muffled movement from his room, the sound of his laugh drifting through the wall that suddenly felt far too thin and your mind helpfully supplied memories of other sounds he could make, and you wondered if it was too late to fake some sudden illness and go home.

"Yeah," you said, dropping onto the edge of the bed. "Amazing."

Maki flopped down beside you, bouncing slightly on the plush mattress. "I know I've been here like five times already with Yuta, but it never gets old." She rolled onto her stomach and rested her chin on her hands. "Usually it's just us and his family, maybe a few cousins. This is the first time we're doing a friend group thing."

You tried to focus on her words instead of the sound of suitcases being wheeled into the room next door. "How long have you and Yuta been coming here?"

"Since we started dating three years ago. His family does this whole summer tradition thing." She smiled. "First time I came, I was so nervous I barely left the room. Now it feels like a second home." She sat up, crossing her legs. “And since his parents said we could use it this weekend, we thought why not invite friends.”

Through the wall, you could hear male voices chatting and laughing, followed by the sound of a door sliding open. Probably the balcony doors. Your shared balcony. Where he could walk past your windows at any time.

“You’re okay with this, right? Yuta’s friends are actually really fun once you get to know them. Especially Satoru, even tho he can be a pain in the ass.” Your stupid heart tumbled over itself once more at his name. "And single, if you're interested. I could—"

"No!" The word came out louder than intended, and you heard the conversation next door pause briefly. Lowering your voice, you added, "I mean, no thanks. Not really looking for anything right now."

Maki gave you a strange look. "You sure you're okay? You've been weird since we got here."

"Just tired from the drive," you lied and stood up. "Maybe I'll take a quick shower before everyone else arrives."

"Okay..." She didn't sound convinced but got up anyway. "I should go find Yuta anyway, make sure he's not letting Satoru destroy any of Yuta's mum's favourite vases."

You waited until she left before falling with your face first onto the bed with a groan. Perfect. Not only did you have to spend the weekend next door to your one night stand who might or might not remember you, but now your best friend was trying to set you up with him.

Through the wall, you heard Satoru laugh at something, the sound familiar enough to make your chest ache. 

It was going to be a very long weekend.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 

You'd barely finished unpacking when Yuji burst into your room without knocking. "Hey! We're setting up a net for beach volleyball. You in?"

"Ah, I don't really—"

"Everyone's playing!" He was already on his way back to the door. "Even Megumi, and you know how he is about fun."

Before you could form a proper excuse, Maki appeared behind him. "Come on, it'll be fun, the sun is out and it’s better than hiding up here all afternoon."

And that's how you found yourself trudging down to the beach, trying to convince yourself this was fine. Totally fine. Just a fun game of volleyball with friends. Nothing to worry about.

But then the boys started stripping off their shirts. It was like watching some ridiculous scene out of Top Gun as they all shed their shirt in the afternoon heat. But it was Satoru who made your brain go silent completely. 

He pulled his shirt off, and suddenly you were having vivid flashbacks to exactly how that toned chest felt under your hands. The sun caught his hair like a halo, and when he stretched his arms over his head, the muscles in his back shifted in ways that should not make your knees so weak, but here you were, rooted to the spot, your pulse racing as if it had a mind of its own.

"You're staring," Maki whispered next to you.

"I'm not," you said, even though you definitely were. How could you not? It was like someone had taken every beach volleyball scene from every summer movie ever and combined them into one ridiculous moment.

Teams were forming, and with an uneven number, you volunteered to sit this round out. Not that you were particularly eager to participate in the first place. You were perfectly happy watching from the safety of your beach towel, where the risk of accidentally brushing against Satoru's unnecessarily perfect body was thankfully minimized.

The game started, and it quickly became clear that everyone was taking it way too seriously, as Satoru and Yuji seemed to be in some sort of competition to see who could spike the ball more impressively. 

"Show off," you muttered to yourself as Satoru delivered a rather dramatic jump serve, the ball landing dangerously close to your foot. But he must have heard you, because he caught your eye with a wink that made your stomach flutter. "Like what you see?"

"I've seen better," you said before you could stop yourself.

His eyebrows shot up and a slow smile spread across his face. "Have you now?"

Oh god. Were you flirting? This was definitely flirting. You needed to stop staring at the way sweat was making his skin glisten and focus on... literally anything else.

"Pay attention!" Nobara yelled, and Satoru barely managed to dodge the ball she'd spiked directly at his head.

The game continued, growing more competitive with each round. You had to admit, it was entertaining watching your friends become more and more dramatic with each point. One of Yuta’s cousins and Yuji had some sort of rivalry going on, while Maki and Nobara were trash-talking each other.

But it was Satoru who kept drawing your attention. The way he moved was almost unfair and you found yourself following the drops of sweat as they made their way down his neck, remembering how that skin had tasted under your tongue.

"Incoming!"

You looked up just in time to see the volleyball heading straight for your face. Before you could react, Satoru dove in front of you and caught the ball just inches from your nose. The movement sent him sprawling across your legs, his face entirely too close to yours.

You blinked at him for a few moments, then whispered, "Thank you.” But the words came out too soft, almost like they had that night in Tokyo when he'd helped you into a taxi and then convinced you not to take it and instead come home with him.

Time seemed to slow, the crashing waves and voices of the others fading into white noise as Satoru's eyes met yours. For a moment, something flickered in those blue depths—a flash of recognition, perhaps even remembrance. 

His breath caught, barely noticeable, and his hand on your leg tightened ever so slightly. You watched his eyes, saw the exact moment his gaze dropped to your lips, and suddenly you were back in that Tokyo bar, both of you caught in that same magnetic pull.

"You're welcome," he said, his voice so low that only you could hear it. There was something in his tone, a hint of question, like he was trying to place a hazy dream. His thumb brushed against your skin, possibly by accident, possibly not, sending shivers up your spine.

The moment stretched, taut as a bowstring, thick with shared memories—memories you weren't even sure he had. Then someone yelled "Dinner!" from the direction of the house, and the spell broke.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

The sun was setting by the time everyone had showered and gathered around the huge dining table on the deck. Fairy lights twinkled overhead and the sound of the waves could be heard in the background as the chaos of fifteen people trying to organize a meal unfolded.

You'd taken extra care getting ready, telling yourself it was just because of the salt and sand, not because of the way Satoru had looked at you on the beach. You'd chosen a light summer dress that happened to be the exact shade of blue as his eyes—pure coincidence, of course—and had let your hair dry naturally in the sea breeze.

Yuta ended up ordering way too much from the local seafood restaurant, you concluded as you surveyed the spread of food on the table. 

You ended up squeezed between Maki and Megumi, which should have been a relief. Instead, you found yourself very aware of Satoru sitting directly across from you, his hair still slightly damp from his shower, wearing a loose white linen shirt that he should really button up and stop teasing the entire table with glimpses of his toned chest.

"Pass the crab?" he asked, and when you handed him the plate, your fingers brushed. The contact sent a shiver through you, and you could have sworn you saw his breath catch. But then he was turning to laugh at something Yuji said, and you were left wondering if you'd imagined the whole thing.

"—and then he just fell face first right into the sand!" Yuji was saying, gesturing wildly with his chopsticks. "You should have seen it!"

"We were all there, literally two hours ago," Megumi deadpanned.

"The game was rigged anyway," Nobara said, reaching for another plate of grilled shrimp. "You can't put Mr. Perfect over here on a team and expect it to be fair." She jerked her thumb in Satoru's direction.

"What can you do?" Satoru said, his eyebrows knitted together, but a grin played on his lips. "I just happen to be naturally gifted." And then his eyes caught yours once more across the table. 

Heat crept up the back of your neck as you remembered how he'd felt when he'd sprawled across your legs, his skin sun warm and slightly sandy. How his touch had lingered just a fraction too long to be casual. 

Something had changed in his expression, so subtle that anyone else might have missed it. But you'd spent hours that night memorizing his faces. His smirk when he had you right on the edge, his soft smile when you were trembling beneath him, the way his eyes darkened just before he—

Maki snorted. "Yeah, sure." And you looked over at her, breaking the eye contact before you could do something stupid like climb across the table and find out if he tasted as good as you remembered.

When the dinner was over, Nobara suggested to play drinking games, truth or dare to be specific, to which "What are we, fifteen?" Megumi commented but Maki already chimed in with "Never ever I ever" and so it was decided.

Your stomach dropped. The last thing you needed was a drinking game where people confessed their secrets. Especially with the way Satoru kept looking at you, like he was one memory away from connecting dots you really didn't want connected.

"I think I'll pass," you said, pushing your plate away. "The sun really did take it out of me."

You gathered your plates and the sound of the others setting up their drinking game followed you into the kitchen—Yuji's voice carrying over everyone else's as he argued about rules, Nobara shouting something about "no questions about exes," and Megumi's long drawn out sighs.

A salty ocean breeze swept into the kitchen through the open wall of windows overlooking the water as you rinsed your plate. "You know," a voice came from behind you, making you jump, "I was starting to think you hate me."

Your heart skipped a beat. You didn't need to turn around to know it was Satoru—would recognize that voice anywhere, had spent months trying to forget how it sounded when it was rough after he’d cum. But you turned anyway, finding him leaning against the doorframe and the kitchen suddenly felt so much smaller. 

"What?" The word came out embarrassingly breathless.

"Let me rephrase, for someone who doesn't hate me, you're doing an impressive job of avoiding me."

"I'm not avoiding you.” You turned back to the sink. "I'm doing dishes."

"Sure. The dishes." His voice got closer, and you could feel the heat of him just behind you. "Though I have to wonder why someone would work so hard to avoid someone they've never met before."

Your hands stilled under the running water. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You've barely looked at me all day." He was close enough now that you could smell his perfume that had lingered on your clothes for days after that night. "Want to tell me what I did to deserve the cold shoulder? Because usually, I at least remember if I've pissed someone off."

Your heart pounded so loudly you were sure he could hear it, but at the same time the irony of his words made you want to laugh. "You haven't done anything," you said, which was technically true. He hadn't done anything wrong. Except maybe be too good in bed and then forget about it entirely.

"No?" His voice dropped lower, and you could feel his breath on your neck. "Then why—" He cut himself off. "Wait. Have we met before?"

You spun around, hands dripping water onto the floor. The motion brought you chest to chest with him, trapped between his body and the counter. "No," you said, too quickly, way too quickly. "Definitely not."

"You sure about that? Because you seem familiar—"

"Must just have one of those faces."

He moved closer still, one hand braced on the counter beside your hip, effectively caging you in. "Is that so? Because I’m sure I’d remember a pretty one like yours." You felt your breath catch in your throat, every nerve in your body screaming. He was going to kiss you, wasn't he? You should probably do something. Like move. Or breathe.

But then he simply stepped back, his smile widening. "Sorry. Must have mistaken you for someone else,” he said and the loss of his warmth felt like whiplash, leaving you cold despite the summer heat that still lingered in the air. You watched him retreat towards the door, casual as anything, like he hadn't just turned your world sideways.

Through the open door, laughter spilled in from the deck, breaking the spell that had held you captive. Satoru paused in the doorway for a moment, silhouetted against the warm light from outside, before disappearing back into the noise of your friends.

You stayed at the sink, trying to convince yourself that the heat in your cheeks was just from the summer air and ignoring the way your heart refused to settle in your chest. What had just happened? You had no idea. But one thing was painfully certain.

This weekend was going to be a long one.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

Next morning, you decided to get up early and have your coffee on the beach before anyone else was awake. Sleep had been hard to come by anyway, with too many thoughts of certain one night stands keeping your mind racing. 

Dawn was just beginning to break over the horizon, painting the sky in orange and gold watercolours and the ocean stretched out before you, quiet and calm, each small wave catching the early light like diamonds.

You'd wrapped yourself in an oversized cardigan against the morning chill, bare feet buried in sand that was still cool from the night before. And of course, because the universe hated you, that's when Satoru appeared.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, settling into the sand beside you without invitation.

You clutched your coffee mug tighter. "Something like that."

"Yeah, me neither." He stretched his long legs out in front of him, and you definitely didn't notice how his shorts rode up slightly, definitely weren't thinking about how those thighs had felt under your hands. "Keep having these weird dreams."

"Oh?"

"Mmm." As he turned to look at you, the rising sun painted his profile gold, catching his eyelashes. There was something different about him in this light — softer somehow, more like the man who'd asked you to stay than the one who'd cornered you in the kitchen last night. "About a girl in a black dress. Red lipstick. The most amazing laugh I've ever heard."

Your heart stopped.

"Funny thing is," he continued casually, "I can never quite see her face in the dreams. But I remember how she tasted. How she felt pinned beneath me. How she clenching around my fingers. How she said my name when she—"

"Stop," you whispered.

"Why?" His voice was softer now. "Because you don't want to talk about that night? Or because you thought I wouldn't remember?"

You stared at the ocean, unable to meet his gaze. "You didn't seem to yesterday."

"Don’t be stupid. I recognized you the moment you walked into the beach house."

Your coffee nearly slipped from your hands. "What?"

"Did you really think I wouldn't remember the girl who stole my favourite shirt on her way out the door?"

Heat flooded your cheeks, you totally forgotten about the shirt. "Then yesterday, in the kitchen—"

"I wanted to see how long you'd keep pretending." He smiled, the bastard had the audacity to smile at you when he revealed that he was playing you the whole time. "You're cute when you're nervous, you know that?”

"You're mocking me."

"Mocking you?" His eyebrows rose. Then he leaned closer to you, but you still refused to look at him. "I spent six months trying to find the girl with the kind of laugh that makes you feel drunk just hearing it, who left before I could ask for her number—" 

"It was just one night," you interrupted.

"Was it? Because I distinctly remember asking you to stay."

"I couldn't."

"Couldn't? Or wouldn't?"

You finally met his gaze fully, and immediately wished you hadn't. Because he was looking at you the same way he had that night. He was enjoying this, wasn't he? Playing with you, teasing you, making you feel like a flustered schoolgirl. 

"Does it matter?" you asked.

"You're really a bit slow, aren't you?"

You wanted to protest, to tell him exactly what you thought of his arrogant everything, but then Maki's voice carried across the beach, "Breakfast! Come and get it before Yuji eats everything!"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

The breakfast table was just as chaotic as the dinner the night before. Fifteen people crammed around the table had that effect, especially with Yuji already piling his plate high with pancakes while Nobara complained about him taking too many. 

You'd barely settled into an empty chair when Satoru slid into the seat next to you, as if he hadn't just admitted that he'd been playing jokes on you the whole day before. 

"Can you pass me the syrup?" he asked innocently, but there was nothing innocent about the way his thigh pressed against yours under the table. 

You handed him the bottle without looking at him, trying to focus on pouring your coffee without spilling it everywhere. Which was made all the more difficult when his hand found your knee under the table.

"So what's everyone's plans for today?" Maki asked, passing around a plate of fresh fruit.

You tried to concentrate on the conversation, you really did. But Satoru's hand was inching higher up your thigh, and your brain was shorted out. You kicked him under the table, aiming for his shin.

He didn't even flinch, just smiled wider and continued whatever conversation he was having with Megumi about later activities, all while his fingers danced along the hem of your shorts. You felt a sudden surge of heat, definitely not from the summer sun.

"You okay?" Nobara asked suddenly. "You look a bit flushed."

"Fine!" Your voice came out higher than intended as Satoru's fingers skimmed just slightly under the edge of your shorts. "Just... hot."

"It is pretty warm this morning," Satoru agreed, his tone perfectly pleasant even as his thumb pressed into that sensitive spot on your inner thigh that he somehow remembered. The bastard. You kicked him again, harder this time.

"Did someone just kick the table?" Maki looked around suspiciously.

"Must have been the wind," you said stupidly.

You grabbed his wrist under the table, intending to push his hand away, but he just interlaced his fingers with yours and kept them there on your thigh. It was like he was asserting dominance, staking his claim, and you were suddenly trapped.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay?" Yuji asked through a mouthful of pancakes. "You're acting weird."

"Totally fine," you managed. "Just didn't sleep well."

"Hmm, me neither," Satoru chimed in, his voice all false innocence. "Must be all these weird dreams I keep having." You dug your nails into his hand in warning, but he just squeezed your hand in response, his grip tightening.

"Dreams?" Nobara asked.

"Oh, you know," Satoru began thoughtfully, "the kind that keep you up all night, thinking about... things that got away."

You were going to murder him. Slowly. Possibly with the butter knife you were currently gripping way too tight.

"That's... weirdly poetic for you," Maki said, raising an eyebrow.

"You wouldn't want to know,” he replied, and you felt his fingers inch just slightly higher once more, making you jump and bang your knee on the table.

"Jesus, what is wrong with you two this morning?" Nobara asked, looking between you and Satoru.

Under the table, you finally managed to grab his hand in yours and hold it still. But that backfired when he started playing with your fingers instead, his thumb brushing across your knuckles in a way that made you gasp. You definitely wanted to kill him. Right after you figured out how to breathe normally again.

"So, beach day? I wanna go snorkelling," Yuji said, thankfully drawing attention away from whatever was going on under the table, and everyone agreed. JJust then, Satoru freed his hand from yours and placed it back on your knee before trailing it up your thigh. 

Okay, nope this had to end now.

"I need more coffee," you announced abruptly, standing up so fast your chair scraped against the deck.

"I'll help," Satoru offered, already rising.

"No!" The word came out too sharp, making everyone look at you strangely. "I mean, I'm good. Thanks."

You practically fled into the kitchen, your skin still tingling where he'd touched you. Through the window, you could see him chatting with the others, looking completely unaffected while you were here trying to remember how to make your heart beat normally.

When is this weekend going to end?

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

"You sure you're okay?" Maki asked, swimming up beside you. "You've been weird all morning. Is the sun too much?"

"I'm fine," you said for what felt like the hundredth time today. "I’m not used to be around so many people."

The water was crystal clear, stretching out in various shades of blue that seemed to go on forever. Everyone had eagerly jumped into snorkeling, with Yuji and Nobara already in a heated competition about who could spot the most fish.

You adjusted your mask for the tenth time, trying to focus on anything except how good Satoru looked in just swim shorts. He was a few meters away, the sunlight catching the droplets of water that clung to his ridiculously toned shoulders.

My God. You needed distance. You needed space to breathe, to think, to do anything other than stare at him.

"If you say so." Maki didn't look convinced. "But tell me if something’s bothering you, okay?"

If only she knew. "Sure."

"Guys, come look at this!" Yuji called from where he was floating near some corals. "Rainbow fish!" 

Everyone swam over to where he was pointing, and you had to admit, the sight was beautiful. Countless colourful fish swam through the coral, creating a vibrant palette under the water.

You followed the fish as a sudden pressure against your calf made you flinch. Satoru. He had brushed against your leg. It could have been an accident, a mere consequence of the crowded water, but somehow, it felt like anything but. You knew better. Nothing about Satoru was ever accidental.

You drifted slightly away from the group, desperately needing to put some distance between yourself and Satoru. The vibrant corals blurred into streaks of colour as you swam further from the group, the shouts of Yuji and Nobara fading.

The water a bit away from them was deeper, a darker shade of blue. As you peered down, you noticed the sandy ground was dotted with small stones, and a different kind of life seemed to thrive here. Sea anemones swayed gently in the current, and schools of silver fish, smaller than the ones near the reef, darted in and out of the anemones.

You floated on your back for a moment, gazing up at the sky, a vast expanse of pale blue flecked with fluffy white clouds as the sun warmed your face. It was so peaceful, and you were happy for the small pause amidst the chaos of the house.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

You startled at Satoru's voice right behind you, nearly inhaling water through your snorkel. He'd somehow managed to swim up without you noticing, and now he was close enough that his arm brushed yours in the water.

"What are you doing?" you hissed, pulling your snorkel out.

"I know a better spot.” He nodded towards a more secluded area around the curve of the beach. "If you're interested."

You glanced back at the others, but they were all absorbed in whatever Yuji had found. "I don't think—"

"Come on," he said, already swimming away. "Don't you trust me?"

"Not even a little bit." But found yourself following him anyway.

He led you around a small outcropping of rocks, the current tugging gently at your fins, to a quieter part of the reef. His hand on your arm gently guided you through the water. The water here was somehow even clearer, as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a breathtaking underwater scenery with colourful coral formations that created a labyrinth of archways and caverns with small fish swimming in between.

"How did you—"

"I came here earlier this morning," he said, treading water close to you. "While you were pretending to ignore me after breakfast."

"I wasn't—" You cut yourself off as he dove under the surface, the sunlight playing across his back as he swam deeper.

You followed him down, your breath taken away by the sight. This part of the reef was like something out of a documentary. Swarms of tropical fish swirled around you in ribbons of colour, and the coral itself seemed to shine in the filtered sunlight.

When you surfaced, Satoru was watching you with an annoyingly knowing smile. "Worth following me?"

"It's alright," you said, trying to sound unimpressed even though you were anything but.

He laughed. "You're still trying to play hard to get?"

"I'm not playing anything."

"No?" He swam closer, close enough that you could see droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes. "Then why did you follow me here?"

"To see the fish.”

"The fish." His voice was amused. "Sure. That's why you've been watching me all morning?"

"I have not—"

"You know," he cut you off, moving even closer, his body brushing against yours in the water. "You're pretty when you get all flustered. Just like that night in Tokyo. Same flush you had when I made you cum three times.”

Ha? Had he been keeping count or what? You frantically tried to replay that night in your head — there was the first time against his apartment door, then on the kitchen counter, and... oh god, he was right. The bastard had been counting. The smirk on his face told you he knew exactly what you were thinking about.

You splashed water at him. "We are not talking about Tokyo."

He wiped water from his face, grinning. "No? Should we talk about this morning instead? About how you nearly jumped out of your skin when I touched your—"

You dunked him mid-sentence.

He came up spluttering, pushing wet hair from his eyes. "Okay, I probably deserved that."

"You definitely deserved that."

But he laughed, and despite yourself, you found yourself laughing too. There was something infectious about him, something that made it hard to keep your walls up, dissolving your defenses with unnerving ease, like mist beneath the morning sun.

"We should head back," you said finally. "Before they come looking for us."

"Probably," he agreed, but made no move to leave. Instead, he floated closer, until his chest pressed against yours. "Or we could stay here a bit longer. I could remind you of all the other ways I can make you wet."

Heat flooded your body. "Satoru..."

"Yes?" His hands found your waist under the water, pulling you flush against him. One thigh slipped between yours, and you had to bite back a gasp at the friction. "You know, I still remember exactly how you sound when you're trying not to moan my name."

"We can't." But your body betrayed you, arching into his touch as his fingers skimmed along your ribs, dangerously close to your breast.

"Can't?" His lips ghosted over your lips, his thumb tracing circles on your hip under the water in a way that made you think of how those fingers had felt inside you. "Or are you afraid you won't be able to keep quiet this time?"

Before you could answer, Nobara's voice carried across the water. "Where did you guys go?"

You pushed away from him quickly, already swimming back towards the group. "Coming!"

"This isn't over," he called after you, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

"It never started!" you shot back, but you were smiling too.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

Satoru spent the rest of the afternoon driving you absolutely insane.

After snorkeling, he'd positioned his beach towel suspiciously close to yours, spending an unnecessary amount of time applying sunscreen to his chest and arms. His movements were deliberately slow, borderline pornographic, fingers sliding over muscle in a way that had you remembering exactly how those muscles had felt flexing under your tongue. 

You knew without a doubt he was putting on a show for you—every movement a reminder of how those arms had looked braced above you as he'd fucked you against his apartment door, how they'd felt pinning your wrists to his sheets.

During lunch, he'd somehow ended up next to you again, his bare thigh pressed hot against yours under the table like this morning had taught him nothing. Except this time, his hand didn't just rest on your knee. It spent the entire meal tracing patterns up your thigh, fingertips dancing dangerous close to where you'd been aching for him.

Your breath caught every time his hand "accidentally" slipped under the hem of your shorts, remembering how those fingers had curled inside you, how they'd made you beg.

The afternoon beach volleyball rematch was even worse. He kept finding excuses to touch you—steadying you with a hand on your waist when you stumbled in the sand (the same way he'd gripped your hips while taking you from behind), reaching around you to grab the ball (his breath hot on your neck like when he'd whispered how good you felt around him), his chest pressing against your back, closer than needed (making you remember how it felt to be pressed between him and that apartment door).

But dinner? Dinner was pure torture.

He'd shown up freshly showered, hair still damp and tousled in that way that made your fingers itch to grab it (like you had when he was between your thighs), wearing a dark blue linen shirt that he hadn't bothered to button properly once more and spent the entire meal finding new ways to make you squirm.

He'd catch your eye across the table and slowly lick sauce off his thumb, making you remember exactly how that tongue had felt when he'd spread you open. When passing dishes, his fingers would brush against yours unnecessarily long, making you shiver. At one point, he'd stretched his arms above his head, his shirt riding up to reveal his lower abs that had you gripping your fork so hard your knuckles turned white.

He knew exactly what he was doing, too—you could tell by the smug look on his face throughout the whole dinner. 

Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice anything amiss. They were all too busy with their own conversations, completely oblivious to the way he was systematically dismantling your sanity with nothing more than glances and touches.

Every time you thought you'd gotten yourself under control, he'd do something else — run his fingers through his hair the same way he had when you'd been on your knees in front of him, or bite his lip in a way that had you crossing your legs under the table. By dessert, you were a mess of sexual frustration and murderous impulses. 

He was enjoying this, the bastard. Testing your control, seeing how far he could push before you broke. And the most infuriating part? 

It was working. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

After dinner, everyone wandered into the living room in various states of food induced laziness. You'd barely managed to claim a corner of the big couch when Nobara disappeared into the kitchen, returning with an armful of wine bottles and a certain look in her eye that spelled trouble.

"No one move," she announced, setting the bottles on the coffee table. "I have an idea."

"Your ideas usually end with someone crying," Megumi commented from his spot on the floor.

"Or arrested," Maki added helpfully.

"Or both," you muttered, trying to ignore how Satoru had somehow appeared in the armchair closest to your corner of the couch. He'd rolled up his sleeves during dinner, forearms on full display, and you were having a hard time not staring at his fingers. Fingers that you knew from experience felt so good in your mouth to keep you from—

"Never have I ever!" Nobara's voice cut through your dangerous train of thought. A collective groan rose from the group.

"Not again," Megumi said, already trying to get up.

"Sit your ass down," Nobara commanded, pushing him back down. "We're bonding."

"We bonded plenty last night," you Yuta tried, but Nobara was having none of it and before you knew it, everyone agreed.

"Okay, I'll start easy," Yuji said, clearly excited despite his earlier protests. "Never have I ever cheated on a test."

Several people drank, including Satoru—and you, okay let’s be real. 

The questions started innocent enough. Never have I ever broken a bone. Never have I ever been arrested. Never have I ever dyed my hair. But as the wine flowed, the questions got progressively more suggestive.

"Never have I ever kissed someone of the same gender," Maki said, and half the circle drank. "Never have I ever faked it," was Nobara's contribution, and several people groaned but drank.

You were starting to feel a bit hazy, the wine making everything feel warm and soft around the edges. Which was dangerous, because Satoru kept looking at you like he was remembering exactly how you'd sounded that night when you definitely hadn't been faking anything.

"Never have I ever," one of Yuta’s cousins announced then, "had sex with someone in this room." For a moment, no one moved. Then Yuta and Maki drank, of course. And then Satoru raised his own glass slowly and took a long sip.

"Who?" Nobara shrieked, looking around the circle. "Satoru just drank, so someone else here has to—" Her gaze swept over everyone suspiciously.

"Someone's lying," Maki sang, already tipsy enough to find this hilarious. "Come on, fess up!"

You kept your face carefully neutral, even as you felt Satoru's eyes burning into you. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Not this time.

"Maybe it was before any of us knew each other," Yuji suggested, but Nobara shook her head.

"No way. Look at his face!" She pointed accusingly at Satoru. "He's got that look. You know, that 'I know something you don't know' look."

Satoru just smiled lazily from his armchair, swirling the wine in his glass. "Maybe I just like keeping you all guessing."

"You're a dumbass," Nobara said, but the group's attention was already shifting as Yuji launched into the next question, something about falling asleep at work.

You released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, but made the mistake of glancing at Satoru and he gave you a look that sent a shiver of heat through you over his wine glass. 

God, you were going to murder him. Slowly. Painfully. Preferably with the very wine glass he was currently smirking into. 

Who did he think he was, just casually drinking like that, nearly exposing everything? He could have at least warned you, given you some sign he was about to blow up your secret. But no, he'd just taken that deliberate sip, probably getting hard on watching you squirm as you tried to keep your poker face. 

That sick bastard.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

Sleep was impossible. You'd been tossing and turning for hours, replaying the day's events in your mind—from that moment in the ocean to his deliberate almost-reveal during the game. The walls of this fancy beach house seemed paper thin at night, every small sound amplified in the darkness.

That's how you heard his door open around 2 AM, followed by quiet footsteps heading downstairs.

You waited a few minutes, telling yourself you were just thirsty, that going downstairs for water had nothing to do with knowing he was maybe down there. The wooden steps creaked softly under your bare feet as you made your way down.

Silvery moonlight streamed through the massive windows, creating silver patterns on the marble countertops of the kitchen. Satoru stood at the island, drinking water from a glass, looking unfairly handsome in just sleep shorts and a wrinkled t-shirt.

"Couldn't sleep?" he whispered when he spotted you.

"What's your game, Satoru?" You kept your voice equally low, padding closer. "That thing earlier? During never have I ever?"

"Game? I'm not the one who was afraid of drinking".

"Because unlike you, I don't feel the need to announce our business to everyone."

He set his glass down, turning to face you fully. "Our business? So you admit there's something to announce?"

"That's not—" You caught yourself before your voice could rise. "What are you trying to achieve here? With all the—" you gestured vaguely, "touching and teasing and almost exposing everything?"

He stepped closer, and suddenly the kitchen felt way too small, even though it was like three times the size of your Tokyo apartment. "Maybe I just want everyone to know that night wasn't as casual for me as you seem to think it was."

You felt the weight of his words settle in the quiet kitchen, heavy with meaning you weren't prepared to unpack while moonlight caught his features in a way that made him look softer, almost vulnerable.

"What are you talking about? It was only one night."

"Was it?" He moved closer, until you had to tilt your head back to keep eye contact. "Because I remember asking you to stay. I remember waking up to an empty bed and spent the next six months thinking about why you left."

"I... you were just saying that in the moment. People say lots of things in the moment."

"Do they?" His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Is that why you ran? Because you thought I didn't mean it?"

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore how your skin prickled where he'd touched you. "Satoru..."

"You know what I think?" His voice dropped even lower, barely a whisper in the quiet kitchen. "I think you're scared. Not of me, but of the fact that you wanted to stay too."

"That's not—" But the words died in your throat as his thumb traced your jawline.

"Then why are you down here?" He was close enough now that you could feel the heat of his body against yours. "If it was just one night, just something casual, why did you follow me down here in the middle of the night?"

The counter pressed against your back—when had you started backing up?—and Satoru's arms came to rest on either side of you, caging you in. Position achingly familiar, reminding you of how this all started six months ago.

"I was thirsty," you said. You did not even believe yourself as you said it.

His laugh was barely a breath against your skin. "Liar."

And then his mouth was on yours, and god, you'd forgotten how good he was at this. His lips were soft but demanding, one hand sliding into your hair while the other gripped your hip, forcing you close against him. You gasped into the kiss, and he took the opportunity to deepen it, his tongue against yours in a way that made you forget your own name.

It was different from that first night—less urgent, but somehow more intense. He kissed you like he was trying to prove a point, like he was laying claim to every moment you'd denied him these past six months. His teeth caught your lower lip, and you had to bite back a whimper, too aware of the sleeping house above.

"Still want to pretend this is nothing?" he whispered against your mouth, and you could feel his smile when your only response was to pull him back down for another kiss.

His hands slid down to grip your thighs, lifting you onto the counter. You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him closer as his mouth moved to your neck, kissing your throat just the way you like it, just the way he somehow remembered.

"Someone could come down," you breathed, even as your fingers tangled in his hair.

"Then I guess you'll have to be quiet." His teeth grazed your skin, making you shiver. "Think you can manage that? Because I distinctly remember you being quite vocal last time."

You tightened your grip on his hair in return, but that just made him groan softly against your throat. "You're stupid."

"Mm, that's not what you said in Tokyo." His hands slid higher under your shirt, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. "In fact, I remember you saying some very different things—"

You cut him off with another kiss, partly to shut him up and partly because you needed his mouth on yours like you needed air. His fingers teased along your ribs, your back, your thighs, touching you everywhere except where you desperately wanted him to.

But then his fingers found the edge of your underwear, and you had to bite his shoulder to keep from moaning as he slid his fingers inside you, making you cum all over his fingers in seconds—just like that night in Tokyo.

You were done, dizzy, breathless, clinging to him as he stripped your shorts and underwear down your legs. He pushed one leg up your chest as he lowered you back down onto the marble kitchen counter, your other leg still wrapped around his waist. His forehead pressed against yours as he thrust inside, hard, slow, perfect angle—just like that night in Tokyo.

He tossed you around, manhandled you, fucked you against the fridge, threw you onto the couch and fucked you there too. He whispered your name, his voice husky against your ear, every letter a caress, even as he picked up pace, even as his hand closed around your throat, even as you bit into the pillow below to muffle your screams as he made you cum again. Multiple times. In various positions. Using his own cum as a lube for the next round—just like that night in Tokyo.

Afterwards you laid outside on the veranda in a big chair you both shared, gazing up at the stars scattered across the deep velvet sky, countless and impossibly bright. A second later his lips found yours and another second later you were on top of him, underwear pushed to the side and your head thrown back as he watched you chase your release on his dick—just like that night in Tokyo.

And his hand found yours, intertwining your fingers as he ate you out on the stairs just before you wanted to go back to bed, but he wouldn't let you, making you cum again before he carried you off to the laundry room to fuck you one last time for sure good mesure—just like that night in Tokyo.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

Morning came way too early, sunlight streaming through windows you'd forgotten to close. Every muscle in your body ached in the most pleasant way, reminding you of exactly how many surfaces you and Satoru had christened last night. 

Yeah. You were definitely going to be feeling this for days. You winced slightly as you sat up — apparently kitchen counters weren't the most ergonomic choice for certain activities, or the stairs, or the laundry room, or... Okay, we get it.

When you finally made it downstairs, moving perhaps a bit more strangely than usual, Satoru was already at the breakfast table. Because of course he was, looking absolutely perfect and fullyfull rested in a fresh shirt, casually sipping his coffee like he hadn't spent half the night making you bite down on your fist to keep quiet.

"Well, someone looks rough," Nobara commented as you lowered yourself carefully into a chair. "Too much wine last night?"

You caught Satoru hiding a smirk behind his coffee cup. The bastard didn't even have the decency to look tired.

"Something like that," you muttered, reaching for the coffee pot and trying not to wince at the stretch. Your thighs burned in protest of the movement, and you could swear you saw Satoru's smile widening at your slight grimace.

"Must have been some wine," Nobara said, eyeing you suspiciously. "I don't remember you drinking that much during the game."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Yuji asked, looking concerned. "You're walking kind of funny."

"I'm fine, really," you managed. "Too much wine, that’s all."

Maki, who sat next to you, leaned in closer. "Your 'too much wine' is showing," she whispered, pointing to your collarbone. Your hand flew to your neck, suddenly remembering all the attention Satoru had paid to that area—especially that moment on the stairs when you'd begged him to finish what he'd started before anyone heard them, while he sucked a very dark bruise right above your collarbone.

You quickly buttoned up your cotton shirt higher, but from Nobara's growing grin, it was too late. But thankfully, no one commented on it.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

The rest of Sunday passed in a lazy haze, with everyone moving a bit slower thanks to varying degrees of wine headaches. Most of the day was spent sprawled out on beach chairs, hiding behind sunglasses and drinking coconut water that Yuta swore would help with hangovers (but, in fact, did not).

You dozed on and off under an umbrella, trying not to think about how your body still ached in several places from the night before, and enjoyed your last day in Okinawa before you'd return to work on Monday.

When evening rolled around and it was time to pack up, the house became a chaos of suitcases and forgotten phone chargers once more. You were struggling with your bag next to your car, trying to figure out the best angle to lift it into the trunk without stressing your still sore muscles, when Satoru suddenly appeared and took it from your hands without a word.

"I can manage," you protested, but he was already lifting it into your trunk with an effortless ease that really shouldn't be as attractive as it was.

"I'm sure you can," he said, closing your trunk with a soft thud. "But maybe I just want an excuse to do this." 

Before you could ask what 'this' was, he pressed a small folded piece of paper into your palm. You opened it to find a phone number written in his surprisingly neat handwriting.

"Since you didn't stay for it last time," he said softly.

"What makes you think I'll use it?"

"Because this time, you want to stay just as much as I want you to." He leaned closer, his voice dropping so only you could hear. "Besides, I believe we still have a few surfaces in my apartment left to explore."

You shoved his shoulder. "Stop." 

He caught your hand before you could push him again. "Use it. Please?" His voice held a note of softness, an unexpected tenderness that made your heart ache with a strange longing. You nodded, tucking the paper safely into your back pocket.

"Still not announcing anything to everyone tho," you warned as Maki called out that they were ready to leave.

"Yet," he said with an eye roll. Then, before you could react, he pulled you in for one last kiss. It was slower, deeper this time, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you, as if he was afraid he might forget the feel of your lips.

"Someone could see us," you whispered against his lips, even as your fingers curled into his shirt.

"I don't care," he murmured, one hand sliding down to your waist to draw you closer. "Let them see." He kissed you again, shorter this time but no less intense. "Besides, they'll find out soon enough when I take you to this little ramen place in Shibuya I've been wanting to show you."

You pulled back slightly. "Oh? Someone's confident about getting a second date."

"Third, technically," he said. "If we're counting Tokyo. And that thing against the washing machine last night."

"Those don't count.”

"Then I guess I'll have to make the next one special. Maybe dinner first. Then I can show you my apartment. Properly this time, not just the entrance hall and kitchen counter."

"Is that your way of asking me out?"

"That's my way of saying I'm not letting you disappear for six months again." He pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Use my number this time, yeah?"

"Satoru!" Yuji's voice carried across the driveway. "Stop making out and help me with these bags!"

Satoru laughed against your lips, stealing one more kiss before reluctantly pulling away. "Think about it. The ramen place. My apartment. All the surfaces we haven't used yet."

"Go help Yuji," you said, pushing him away even as you smiled. "Before he comes over here."

"Call me," he said, walking backwards with that stupidly handsome smile. "Or I'll just have to show up at your office. Make a big scene. Maybe bring flowers. Really embarrass you in front of all your coworkers."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me!" He finally turned then to help with the bags, leaving you to shake your head, your lips still tingling from his kisses.

The drive home felt different somehow. Every now and then, your hand would drift to your pocket, fingers brushing over the folded paper with his number, making sure it was still there as the familiar roads back to Tokyo stretched ahead.

The beach house grew smaller in your rearview mirror until it disappeared completely, taking with it the memories of lazy afternoons under the summer sun and heated nights. But other things lingered—the ghost of his lips against yours, the warmth of his hands, the way he'd looked at you like you were something worth waiting for.

Maybe you'd call him tomorrow. Or maybe you'd wait a day or two, just to prove you could. But knowing you, you'd likely message him the moment you set foot in your apartment.

A smile tugged at your lips as you pulled onto the highway, the setting sun painting the sky in strokes of rose and  lavender. Whatever happened next, one thing was for sure — this weekend had changed everything.

And maybe, just maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing.

masterlist + support my writing

author's note — and that's a wrap on our beach house summer story ! thank you so much for reading :)) & thank you again to @/nanamis-baker for beta reading !!

for anyone wondering, yes, she kept the shirt. and yes, he definitely noticed when she wore it to their first proper date to that ramen spot in shibuya.

if you enjoyed this fic, please feel free to leave a comment or reblog. it means so much !! until next time. stay thirsty hydrated, my friends <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here.

tags — @fayuki @starmapz @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna @cocomanga

@nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @sugurbo @chiyokoemilia @janbannan

@bloopsstuff @snowsilver2000 @ihearttoru @momoewn @yokosandesu

@90s-belladonna @fairygardenprincesss

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[igotanidea]

World's worst wingman: Jason Todd x reader (ft. Dick Grayson)

story borrowed from @gay-dorito-dust, thank you :)

Summary: Dick being Jason's wingman.

***

„Come on, just go do it!”

„No.”

„Why not?”

„Because.”

„Why are you being stubborn? I saw you eyeing her whole night! Seriously, if you keep bringing that face expression on, you will turn into an anime character and-“

Jason groaned and run fingers through his already messed up hair.

For the record – he had no idea that the object of his interest in the form of Y/N would be at this particular club tonight.

Well – maybe a faint idea. Just a vague concept of her whereabouts.

It wasn’t like he stalked her a little, getting to know her favorite places to hang out, her work and her home and the way she was using to commute to ensure its safety.

Definitely not.

But even if he did – there was no regrets in his actions with regards to that.

What he did regret though – was bringing Dick with him to act like some sort of wingman. Stupid. Idiotic. Completely reckless behavior. HE should have known better than that.

Instead of having a chance to talk to her, he was stuck by the table, trying to melt into the plush backrest of the couch behind his back, that happened to be the same color his face was turning into.

Forced to listen to his brother constant babbling how he can’t be such a coward and shy and antisocial and that she seemed to be a nice girl and why won’t Jason just get his ass up and –

“Shut up.” Jason muttered, edging the thin line between behaving and getting a temper tantrum.

“Ohhhh! Is my little Jaybrid getting flustered?” Dick teased, grinning like a madman, deriving almost sadistic pleasure from tormenting his brother.

“I’m getting so many regrets about telling you shit about her.”

“Oh, come on, don’t say it! That’s so not fair! I’m only here to help you, cause with the way you’re acting now I don’t see much chance to succeed in-”

“I’m going to get a drink!” Jason stood up from the table so abruptly that only by miracle it didn’t trip over.

“Oh yeah! That’s the spirit! And while you’re at it, can you bring me one more pina colada?”

It was all just a big fat joke to Dick.

***

“Hey, can I have a beer and a pina colada?” damn the second part of his sentence barely left his throat.

“that;s an unusual mix, istn;t it?” she chuckled grabbing a glass and starting to prepare the drink with learned precision.

“Yeah, it’s not for me – “ Jason stuttered, despite himself “It’s for-“

“Your date?”

“huh?”

“That guy over there?” Y/N pointed towards the Dick, waving at her crazily across the club

“WHAT? He’s not my date! He- he’s my –“ it took a lot of effort from Jason to not address Dick as his prey, but somehow, gulping heavily and clenching fists he managed to calm down. Ish. “-brother. He’s my effing brother.”

“Oh, such a  relief!”

“Relief? Why?”

“Cause it means he’s not gay, huh?”

“Oh…”

Of course she was asking about Dick. How could a girl like her ever pay attention to a guy like Jason?

“Relax, I’m kidding. It’s only because of the drink. I mean – what kind of a man orders pina colada unless he’s playing on the other side of the field or has a particularly nasty sense of humor, right?”

“Are you always this observant?”

“You know, some people think I’m just  a bartender, but the truth? I’m also a watcher and a listener. You wouldn’t believe the amount of drunk girls crying their broken heart out on this particular counter.”

“Hah!” he chuckled. For some crazy reason her attitude was making him feel at ease. Like he could actually maybe stand a chance with her?

“So, here’s your pina colada and your beer. Enjoy.”

The second she handed him the beverages he knew the moment was over. He was a customer at the bar and she was working here. They were not friends and definitely not more.

“Yeah, um – thanks …” he muttered, retrieving back into himself, grabbing the mugg and a tall glass, heading back to Dick with sense of defeat inside him.

***

“Are you crazy?!”

“Stop yelling!”

“But are you crazy?!” with the way Dick was tugging at Jason’s shirt it was truly a miracle that the younger brother did not end up drenched in and reeking of beer. “You had a chance! It was the perfect opportunity and you’re back here?! Please tell me you at least asked her out!”

“I –“

“Holy shit, Jason, you totally blew it.” Dick rubbed his forehead “Tell me you told her, you liked her!”

“Well-“

“Ok, fine, fine. Let’s lower the bar and the expectations there then. Tell me you told her she’s pretty.”

“I’m not telling the cliché that any drunk man would!”

“You’re hopeless. You are totally hopeless. My god, did I teach you nothing during all those years?!”

“Shut up, Dick!”

Too bad it was too late and Dick was already on a highway to making a scene and the biggest commotion this little suburban club has ever seen.

“Dick!” Jason hissed, feeling all eyes on them. All eyes except Y/N’s who was apparently ending her shift, cleaning some of the stuff from the counter and filling in her colleague.

“Quick! Fast!” Dick started pushing Jason towards her direction.

Mistake.

A little tip: if you ever try to push a 6 ft and 200 pounds man in any direction at all, make sure to make sure he expects it.

Otherwise, the mass of muscles may just subdue to the undeniable power of physics. Especially the gravity and the rules of dynamics. You know, the whole a body set in motion moves in a uniform motion and all shebang.

In Jason’s case it resulted in him losing the balance, falling backwards and stumbling upon unexpecting Y/N, crashing into her as they both ended on the floor with a very disturbing crack coming from somewhere.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Y/N? Are you okay? I am so sorry, I am so terribly sorry, how many fingers do you see-“

 “Ouch….” She groaned, reaching for the hand he was reaching towards her, letting him help her up. “Five?”

“Three. Close enough.”

“So you’re a sloth now?”

“huh?”

“Well, I said five fingers, you said three. Sloths have three fingers and – mh. Dry joke, sorry.”

“You must have hit your head pretty bad, huh?” he could swear to god, he had no idea where that joke came from, just slipped his mouth, but to his relief – she laughed. Not in a mean way, not at all. It was a genuine, happy laugh. He made her laugh.

“Yeah, maybe. I swear I am usually in a better shape.”

“I’d love to see that.” He muttered, and in his head it was just a thought never spoken aloud, but when she tilted her head and gave him a funny look, Jason realized he actually did just that. Spoke up. Bared himself to rejection, teasing, hurt, pain, depression –

“Ok.”

“Ok?” his eyes grew wider.

“Yes. Ok. I can give you a sample. And also you owe me.”

“Um, yeah, yeah, ok, so – “ he scratched his head awkwardly.

“I like coffee. And I have a day off tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay then so – “ say something you idiot! Say something! “there’s this little café at the 23rd and-“

“See you at 8.” She smiled, grabbed her coat and with a wave of her hand disappeared leaving him stunned.

He had a date. Ish. A meeting. A meeting with a girl he liked.

He could jump up from the sheer joy of this unexpected turn out of events, if it wasn;t for the one little fact ….

“RICHARD GRAYSON!!!”

The yelling could wake up the dead and sensing the incoming sequence of events, Dick quickly started moving through the crowd towards the exit.

“I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

It seemed that after Red Hood was done with his job, Nightwing would be excluded from patrolling that night.

[souljahwwitch]

FUCKED UP! °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ hc’s about thanos x best friend reader who’s just as energetic as him <3

(no squid game!)

(kind of fwb like in my every other best friend! reader fic 😔)

°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ choi su-bong (or thanos as he forces you to call him) have been best friends since diapers, both of your fathers being filthy rich, they were connected to the hip, and so you two are.

°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ one out of many things you two have in common is the pure hatred towards your fathers, you two always found a way to fuck up some family dinners or country club parties—and no one ever suspected a thing.

°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ no one suspected you, because how could y/n l/n, the oh so precious daughter of f/n l/n ever be so cruel? you were too pretty for that, too smart—no one actually knew you for who you are except thanos.

°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ they suspected thanos, of course they did—but he didn’t really care, only thing that mattered is having fun with you—like taking hits from the bong right before your father and his father and some prissy guests wait for both of you to come down to some boring dinner.

you sat there—trying not to burst out laughing at random things, thanos was beside you, gripping your thigh to stop you—and himself from laughing

“ sweetheart, you’ve gotta stop looking like your face is about to explode.” thanos mumbled beside you—and that just made you wheeze, he couldn’t hold it anymore also—so you laughed it out while making an excuse you have to go to a very important business walk!! (you two don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.)

°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ being his best friend means sneaking out at two am for whatever reason, you two were always in your pajamas too—even though you two are the same in personality—the style was a bit different.

“c’mon princess, jump i’ll catch you!” he whisper-yelled, between laughs because—why tf are you wearing a hello kitty pjs

“i can’t, asshole! what if you drop me-“ you hissed, sitting at your window, looking down at him.

“now don’t be dumb, i always catch you, angel, you know that.” he said cockily right before you sighed and jumped, he catches you, of course, but he doesn’t let you live it down

“see, dumbass! i told you!”

“fuck off >:(!!!!”

°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ being his best friend means you can come to him for everything and he can come to you, your family were always on some business trips, so you two were often taking care of eachother.

and that’s how you find yourself in this position, pouring rain, walking from your mansion to his because you got a fever, and your dad was on a business trip with his dad—and he didn’t left you any over the counter medicine, yeah, he left you shit ton of money, but pharmacies don’t work at 4am.

you knocked on his door as if you were dying, you were shivering, you were soaked, and relief washed over you as you heard a voice call out “who the fuck in this time of night-“

when he opened the door and saw you there, sniffling and shivering, teary eyed—he knew you had a fever, fevers were hard on you, so he knew exactly how you looked.

“woah, woah—easy there, it’s alright sweetheart c’mere” he mumbled

“but-but you’ll get sick if you touch me-“

“what? you think some cold will knock my ass over like it does to you, stop being a brat and c’mere.”

°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ being his best friend meant spending late nights in your girly room, laying on your bed as you two look at eachother—high or not, it always ended up like this—his hands on your waist, and you being stubborn first five minutes before you let him kiss you

“thereee she is..”

[jessilynallendilla]

dear god we're steadily heading into Fahrenheit 451

“Picture it. Nineteenth-century man with his horses, dogs, carts, slow motion. Then, in the twentieth century, speed up your camera. Books cut shorter. Condensations. Digests, Tabloids. Everything boils down to the gag, the snap ending.” “Snap ending.” Mildred nodded. “Classics cut to fit fifteen-minute radio shows, then cut again to fill a two-minute book column, winding up at last as a ten- or twelve-line dictionary resume. I exaggerate, of course. The dictionaries were for reference. But many were those whose sole knowledge of Hamlet (you know the title certainly, Montag; it is probably only a faint rumor of a title to you, Mrs. Montag), whose sole knowledge, as I say, of Hamlet was a one-page digest in a book that claimed: now at last you can read all the classics; keep up with your neighbors. Do you see? Out of the nursery into the college and back to the nursery; there’s your intellectual pattern for the past five centuries or more.” Mildred arose and began to move around the room, picking things up and putting them down. Beatty ignored her and continued: “Speed up the film, Montag, quick. Click, Pic, Look, Eye, Now, Flick, Here, There, Swift, Pace, Up, Down, In, Out, Why, How, Who, What, Where, Eh? Uh! Bang! Smack! Wallop, Bing, Bong, Boom! Digest-digests, digest-digest-digests. Politics? One column, two sentences, a headline! Then, in mid-air, all vanishes! Whirl man’s mind around about so fast under the pumping hands of publishers, exploiters, broadcasters that the centrifuge flings off all unnecessary, time-wasting thought!” Mildred smoothed the bedclothes. Montag felt his heart jump and jump again as she patted his pillow. Right now she was pulling at his shoulder to try to get him to move so she could take the pillow out and fix it nicely and put it back. And perhaps cry out and stare or simply reach down her hand and say, “What’s this?” and hold up the hidden book with touching innocence. “School is shortened, discipline relaxed, philosophies, histories, languages dropped, English and spelling gradually gradually neglected, finally almost completely ignored. Life is immediate, the job counts, pleasure lies all about after work. Why learn anything save pressing buttons, pulling switches, fitting nuts and bolts?”

remember

“You don't have to burn books, do you, if the world starts to fill up with nonreaders, nonlearners, non-knowers?” 

“The problem in our country isn't with books being banned, but with people no longer reading. You don't have to burn books to destroy a culture. Just get people to stop reading them.” 

“Coloured people don't like Little Black Sambo. Burn it. White people don't feel good about Uncle Tom's Cabin. Burn it. Someone's written a book on tobacco and cancer of the lungs? The cigarette people are weeping? Burn the book.”  (remember a few years ago when classic books were being "sensitivity read" for editing to a "modern audience")

keep in mind

“If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none. Let him forget there is such a thing as war. If the government is inefficient, top-heavy, and tax-mad, better it be all those than that people worry over it. Peace, Montag. Give the people contests they win by remembering the words to more popular songs or the names of state capitals or how much corn Iowa grew last year. Cram them full of noncombustible data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. Then they'll feel they're thinking, they'll get a sense of motion without moving. And they'll be happy, because facts of that sort don't change.” 

“A book is a loaded gun in the house next door...Who knows who might be the target of the well-read man?” 

what is HAPPENING

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 33 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley can't wait to learn if Rose is going to have a younger brother or sister. Planning for the baby means planning for the future, but Bradley can feel that you're unhappy. With help from friends, he finally figures out why.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy, vomiting

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You'd been quiet for days, chalking it up to exhaustion from work, but Bradley was a little concerned. He was missing out on a lot of cooking and cleaning at home, as well as responsibilities with Rose. Most days, he was collapsing in bed right after you, body tired and brain overworked. But he was close to advancing a few of his pilots to the next stage in their careers, and he didn't want to let up just yet.

Truthfully, he was enjoying many aspects of his day-to-day at work. He loved making decisions that would benefit his group. When he had a compelling answer for his superior officers, it made him feel so good about himself. He didn't even mind putting in the extra hours. But it was clear that Indigo wanted to be his class pet, and he wasn't quite sure what to do about that.

She was weighing on his mind a lot, most likely because she was constantly invading his office hours. He wanted to tell her she didn't have to try so hard to be the best aviator in the bunch when she just simply was the best one. But that would be feeding her ego, which probably wasn't the smartest option right now.

"Are you ready?"

Bradley looked up from his desk to see you standing there, and he jumped to his feet. "Of course I'm ready," replied with a smile, pushing all of his paperwork to the side and logging out of his computer. "Been looking forward to this."

You smiled softly, hand resting on the slight swell of your belly as you shifted your weight from one booted foot to the other. "Me too," you whispered, and Bradley grabbed his keys, wallet and phone from his desk drawer. He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers between yours and headed out into the sunny October afternoon.

"Time for our final guesses," you said. "Do you think it's a boy or another girl?"

Bradley looked down at your face, the perfect curve of your cheek catching the sunlight. You were beautiful. Every bit as stunning as the day he first laid eyes on you in one of the classrooms he passed on a regular basis. "Sweetheart, if there's anything good or just in this world, it better be another girl. Then I'd have three of you to look at."

"Rose looks like you, Bradley!" you insisted immediately, breaking out in the biggest smile he'd seen on your face in weeks. 

"Rose looks like you. Everyone thinks so. She's adorable." He pulled you to a stop and leaned down to kiss your cheek. "And her face already has this exact curve that I'm fucking obsessed with." 

Bradley let his lips linger, loving the way your cheek warmed as you stepped all the way into his embrace. You seemed on the verge of telling him something or asking a question, your posture never quite relaxing. He'd noticed that recently. Like you couldn't let yourself completely go with him like you always did. He wanted to ask you what was going on, but he was more than willing to wait until you were ready to say something on your own.

"We'll be late if we don't get a move on," you whispered. Bradley responded by kissing along your cheek to your lips. "I'm serious, Roo," you mumbled.

"Let's go," he sighed. "Dr. Morris already thinks I'm an idiot. I better not add tardiness to her list of complaints about me."

A short drive later, and the two of you were walking into the waiting room right on time. You barely sat down before a nurse was calling you back and handing you a hospital gown.

"It's weird without Rose here," you said as you got undressed. Bradley held out the gown for you to slip into, shaking his head.

"Nah. This is just for us. She can hear all about it later after work."

He was just about to close the distance to stop you from tying the gown closed so he could get another look at you, but Dr. Morris strolled in.

"How are we all doing?" she asked, shooting Bradley a look on her way past. It wasn't like he was capable of knocking you up again, but she was looking at him like he might have.

"Fantastic," he replied at the same time you said, "Okay."

He shot you a look as you eased yourself up on the table. He wasn't sure what he could do to make you happier. A conversation was clearly necessary now, but he didn't even know how to initiate it. If finding out more about the second Nugget today wasn't enough to make you smile, he didn't know what was.

He dropped down into the chair at your side, wrapping his big hand around yours as Dr. Morris spread that warm gel across your belly and asked you an array of questions. He listened to your answers as his heart beat a little faster. He was excited about this. Soon you could talk about baby names and nursery themes. He couldn't wait to meet his second child in the spring. 

Bradley kissed your fingertips, watching intently as your doctor isolated some ultrasound images. Then she asked, "Do you want to find out the sex?"

"Fuck yes," Bradley gasped, scooting his chair a little closer. "I mean, please."

You and Dr. Morris were both wearing smirks as he squeezed your hand. He was so excited, it was hard to swallow. He didn't care if it was a boy or a girl. He felt the same way last time around, too. He just wanted a healthy kid he could dote on.

"It's a girl."

He was up out of his seat, sending the thing screeching across the floor as he hooted. Okay, so maybe he did have a bit of a preference for another daughter, but he would have been happy either way.

"Another girl!" he shouted while you smiled up at him. "Just me and my three beautiful girls."

Bradley let his lips collide with yours, kissing you until he got his fill. Dr. Morris and the rest of the ultrasound and everything else could just wait a few minutes while he soaked in this pure perfection.

----------------------------

Bradley had been inundating your text thread for days with links to various nursery themes, but meanwhile you and he hadn't even decided which room would be your second daughter's.

"A second daughter," you whispered at your desk. Your parents were excited; you got to watch your mom and dad cry over FaceTime. Rose was too young to care, but one day she might have an opinion about her sister. You, on the other hand, felt like a mixed bag of emotions.

You wanted to be happy. You really did. But it was too hard. Somehow letting your sadness ebb and flow was easier. Especially whenever you ventured too far away from your lab or your office. Indigo was always around. It was like she knew were to find you. And perhaps she did. Your name was in the directories around base. But it felt like she was mocking you. She obviously wanted your husband, and he was either oblivious or hiding something.

When you managed to let your intrusive thoughts win out, you checked his phone only to find pretty much nothing untoward. Other than ruining the surprise of what was probably supposed to be an anniversary gift, all you found was one unanswered message Indigo sent to him a while ago. It bordered on flirtatious, and you were a little concerned that he gave her his phone number, but there was really nothing there.

But she was in your face on base enough that you kept to your office as much as you could. Of course, today was the day you were absolutely starving, and you left your lunch at home. You could pop down to the cafeteria, grab a sandwich to appease yourself and the baby, and then bring it back up here to eat it. Should be a piece of cake.

Hot turkey sandwiches were on the menu, and you almost cried tears of joy as you had one packed up in a container with extra gravy and a side of mashed potatoes. It smelled so good, you couldn't wait to take a bite. 

When you were waiting for the elevator, you froze with your lunch in your hands. You could see Indigo and Spice heading out of the cafeteria, and there was hardly anyone in the lobby for you to try to hide behind. You felt absolutely ridiculous as you stood there eavesdropping.

"What kind of progress have you made?" Spice asked, voice carrying over the sound of conversation around you.

Indigo smiled and laughed, showing off her perfect teeth. "Well, I can't give you details here, but... it's no wonder he's willing to spend so much time with me after hours. Anyone with eyes can see his wife let herself go this time around." Your cheeks burned as she added, "He's more than happy to help me with absolutely anything I need."

You sucked in a deep breath, certain she was talking about Bradley. And you. When the elevator arrived you ducked inside, jamming your finger against the button for your floor. As the doors slid shut, Indigo's gaze connected with yours, and she stood there proudly with her friend like she'd actually managed to steal Bradley from you.

A sob escaped your lips, and you tripped along to your office door. You really did look awful. Your skin was broken out, and you were going to need to start wearing the maternity tent well before your third trimester. Your belly was already tender, and then the baby decided this was the perfect moment to kick hard enough you thought you were going to wet your khakis.

"She's right," you whispered, tossing your lunch onto your desk and running for the bathroom. One glance in the mirror as you ran for an empty stall left you sobbing in the ladies' room. You looked awful. It was no wonder Bradley was paying extra attention to her. The fear that looking at Indigo had already turned into touching her was eating away at you. When you flushed the toilet, you turned and gagged before emptying the meager contents of your stomach into the bowl.

When you finally made it back to your office, your stomach couldn't handle a single bite of food. You dumped it in the trash.

-----------------------------

Bradley was just wrapping up a meeting with Maverick when Indigo cornered him outside his office. "Can I help you with something?" he asked, trying to keep the amusement from his voice. She was getting to be relentless.

As she shook her head slowly, she laughed. "I already told you, Sir, I can think of countless things you could help me with."

"Well why don't you run some of them past me?"

Her eyes widened as she licked her lips. "We could do that at the Hard Deck? I could still buy you that drink?"

Bradley sighed, hands planted on his hips which somehow drew her in closer. "I can't let any of you buy me drinks. Sorry, but that's not going to happen." He nodded toward his door. "But I have about fifteen minutes if there's something I can help you with."

She nodded. "Fifteen minutes would probably be more than enough, Sir."

Indigo stepped inside his office, glancing back at him over her shoulder, but Bradley saw another familiar face turn the corner in the hallway.

"Hey, there, hot shot," said Natasha, making Bradley smile. "You have a minute?"

"Actually, no," he replied, watching as his best friend looked inside to see who was waiting for him. She made a face, gaze snapping back to his. "Can it wait until later?"

Nat pressed her lips together like she was fighting off a scowl. "I wanted to see if you were free to workout with me later," she whispered. "I could stop by after dinner, and we could do some reps in your garage?"

"Absolutely," he replied. "See you around seven?"

"Yeah." 

She took one more look at Indigo before marching back the way she came, leaving Bradley with nothing to do but take a seat behind his desk.

"Do you want me to close the door?" Indigo asked, voice laced with hope as she half stood.

"Leave it," Bradley replied, once again showing no hint of favoritism. "Now, what did you want to talk about?"

----------------------------

After dinner, you excused yourself to Rose's nursery to feed her and make a phone call to your parents. Bradley kissed you on the forehead before doubling back to the bedroom to change into gym clothes. When he let you know Nat was coming over to workout in the garage, you seemed almost relieved.

He started setting up his weights and bench press when he heard the sound of a familiar engine pull up to the house. A minute later, Nat was strolling in wearing bright pink spandex with a matching gym bag. 

"I could spot you a mile away," he told her, and she chucked her bag at his chest. They both laughed when he caught it.

"You know what I can see a mile away?" she asked.

"What?"

"The word dumbass written across your forehead."

He rolled his eyes, dropping her bag onto one of the mats. Then he froze as he heard another engine pull up to a stop at his driveway. This one made him glare at Nat.

"Why is he here?" Bradley asked, and a split second later, Jake came strolling in like he owned the place. 

Nat and Jake shared a look as Jake tossed his gym bag next to hers. "I thought I might need some backup."

Now Bradley was annoyed and also confused. "Backup? For what?"

Natasha closed the distance to him, patting Bradley on the chest with a firm hand. Her dark eyes conveyed concern as she asked, "Are you fucking stupid? Or are you doing it on purpose?"

"Huh?"

"I love you, Bradley. I really do. But I still have to follow girl code."

"Nat, I have no fucking clue what you're talking about."

The clanging of Jake adding weights to the bar made Bradley want to scream as Nat shook her head in pity.

"She wants in your pants," Jake drawled.

"Who?" Bradley asked, still unsure what they were even talking about.

"Your student with the crazy blue eyes!" Nat said, smacking him hard on the chest.

"Indigo?" Bradley asked, taking a step away from her. Both Nat and Jake were nodding as Bradley's brow creased. "She's like twenty-six years old."

"So?" Nat asked, hands planted on her hips.

"So, she's not trying to get in my pants. I'm married. Everyone knows I'm married."

Bradley held up his left hand, complete with wedding band. He rarely ever took it off, especially since it got him into hot water with you when he was deployed. But as he watched the band shine under the fluorescent lights, his lips parted wordlessly, and he stood there while both Nat and Jake scrutinized him.

If Indigo had been flirting with him this whole time, he'd written her off as an overzealous young pilot trying to prove herself. Now every interaction replayed through his mind, and he rubbed his palm over his eyes as he groaned. There was no way this was happening to him. He'd been alone with her on several occasions in his office. The door always remained open, but she'd pushed for him to close it.

Bradley's cheeks burned with mortification, and he wasn't sure he could even look Nat in the face. If Indigo really was trying to get in his pants, then he was a joke. He was an absolute joke, and none of the younger pilots took him seriously in his new role. That thought made him sick, but not as sick as the idea that maybe you'd noticed something as well.

Bradley swallowed hard. "Oh, fuck." When he swallowed again, he wanted to scream.

"Okay, there's my answer," Nat whispered, wrapping her fingers gently around his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. She pressed herself up onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank god you're just stupid. It would be so much worse if you were messing around with her intentionally."

"I'm not," he barked, angry at the insinuation. "I wouldn't. I've never even touched her!"

Nat's hands were on his chest, coaxing him to calm down, but he was too worked up. "Easy, Soul Sister," she said, but he was shaking his head now.

"I'm fucking married, Nat! I made wedding vows. I have a daughter, and my wife is pregnant with another girl. What the fuck would I cheat for? What's going to be better than this?"

Bradley's chest was heaving with ragged breaths as she guided him to sit on his bench. He landed hard, jostling the weights as he looked up at two sympathetic faces.

"Nothing's gonna be better than Angel," Jake drawled. "I'm still not sure if it was dumb luck or divine intervention, but she's way out of your league, Bradshaw."

"I know," Bradley snarled. "You think I don't know that? She's fucking perfect." He tilted his head back, blinking up at the lights. "Do you think she knows Indigo was trying to flirt with me?"

"Absolutely," Nat replied, and Bradley forced himself to meet her eyes.

"Yes, asshole," Jake added. "She's not stupid like you are."

"Fuck." Bradley stood and started pacing around. He felt like his job and marriage were suddenly on the line. He didn't know what to say to you that wouldn't potentially make things worse right now. If he could think of something reasonable, he'd run across the yard and back inside the house and say it to your face.

Maybe this was part of the reason you'd been so quiet? But it didn't make sense. He never talked about Indigo outside of the context of work, because there was simply nothing else to say. But after that night at the bar, you were really fucking mad at him. He thought you were mad that he got drunk, but maybe there was more to it.

"God damn it," he groaned, realizing Nat was lifting weights while Jake spotted her. "Do you think I should talk to Mav tomorrow?"

"Yes," they both replied in unison. The fact that they agreed on something was scary enough, but that let Bradley know just how fucked he was.

But he would take care of everything. He'd talk to Mav and figure it all out. What other choice did he have? 

"I'm heading inside," he murmured. "Can the two of you turn off the lights and lock up when you're done."

Bradley didn't wait for an answer. He was already walking across the backyard, craving your reassuring touch that he wasn't quite sure he deserved. When his phone vibrated in the pocket of his shorts, he pulled it out. He was met with another text from Indigo, but this time there was a photo as well. She was on the beach at sunset, the orange and pink sky somehow making her eyes look even more startlingly blue, and she was smiling at the camera. When his eyes slid down the screen to her cleavage, he almost dropped his phone. But not before he read the text.

This beach is so beautiful. Wish you were here.

Bradley couldn't decide what to do. Turn around and go back to the garage? Go inside the house? Sit down on Rose's jungle gym and cry? Smash his phone to bits? When another text appeared, he looked at it immediately.

Oops, I sent that to the wrong person. Have a good night, Sir.

Bradley squeezed his phone in his hand until he was afraid it might break. Then he opened a different text thread and pounded out a message, hitting send immediately. 

Mav, I need to talk to you about something important first thing in the morning.

When Bradley noticed movement, he looked up at the sliding glass door. You were carrying Rose around the living room, bouncing her in your arms as you yawned. Getting the Nugget ready for bed was supposed to be his job. He loved it. The bedtime stories and the snuggles were the best part. He needed to have this.

Finally he walked inside, sliding the door closed quietly behind him, trying not to panic. Rose was nearly asleep, but you let him take her into his arms. Bradley kissed her all over her sweet face before forfeiting her to her crib, then he climbed in bed with you. When he reached for your hand, you curled up against him, and he let his hand rest along your belly.

"I love you, Sweetheart," he whispered, heart aching. "I love my three girls."

-----------------------------

Start getting your shit together, Bradley. Indigo has shown she's relentless. Also, I thought I was solid on the baby's name, but I might put it to a vote. Stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@furiousladyking

@godsfavoritebabe

@bethabear12

@halo-mystic

@sherlockstrangewolf

@theamuz

@khaylin27

@glenpowellluver

[wtfaniii]

Can you pleaseeee do a Namgyu x reader story where he’s your mean ex boyfriend that secretly still wants you 🙏

Of course! That man has something and you know it girl

From love to hate

Nam-Gyu (player 124) x reader // you

Fem reader!

Summary: You were so miserable that out of 456 people in this game you met again with the man who made your love life miserable a year ago.

Warning: Some emotional abuse, unstable relationship on both sides.

Note: I understand you girl, that boy has something that makes him attractive, I hope this is to your liking and meets your expectations!

The second game was over, the girl just wanted to calm her nerves sitting silently on her bed but she was startled a little when Thanos appeared next to one leap.

—Get lost —she said, rolling her eyes and continuing to play with his fingers.

—How pretty —he said sarcastically.

—You were nicer before —Gyu said, coming to her left side.

She sighed and got out of bed ready to move out of there, she wanted to have zero contact with him after having found in bed with her best friend.

—Fuck you

—¿You kiss with that vocabulary? —Nam-gyu hurried to stop her from escaping and stood in front of her.

—¡Move! ¡I don't want anything to do with you!

Yes, the guy was an idiot, he acted like an idiot throughout their entire relationship and he would always be an idiot.

She thought could tolerate him, she loved him enough to do it but there was a limit she wasn't going to cross, infidelity was something she was never going to get over.

Nam-gyu wasn't going to give up now that he had her so close, she was the only one who loved him just the way he was and even though he had made a mistake by getting between the legs of her slut friend he still couldn't stop thinking about her.

He took her arm with a little more force than he should have, it was inevitable, he wanted to tell her to please stay but instead he said something more hurtful.

—Stop being such a bitch and listen to me.

In his mind he wanted to regret it but the laughter deep inside Thanos made his ego as a man grow.

That was one of his many problems, the influence that third parties managed to have on him.

However, he couldn't think of anything else when he felt the girl's hand crash into his cheek, both becoming the center of attention of the other players.

—If you call me a bitch again, I'll kick you where it hurts the most —she warned him, pointing a finger at him in a threatening manner, to which Nam-gyu raised his hands in a sign of peace while backing away.

—She's a real sweetheart —Thanos said for the second time, amused and sarcastic.

—You have no idea....

[...]

It was time for the third game, the girl managed to overcome each and every one until it was time to pair up and take a cubicle before the rest.

She was alone, she thought that this time it would be the end for her.

Meanwhile Nam-gyu and Thanos had already managed to get an empty cubicle but just before closing the door 124 stopped at the entrance and looked in all directions.

—¡¿What the hell are you doing?! ¡Come in already!

But he ignored it completely, the drug in his system raised his adrenaline and clouded his judgment but the only thing he was quite clear about was that he had to make sure his damn ex-girlfriend was still alive after this.

Seeing her disoriented in the crowd, he didn't think twice and ran towards her, hearing Thanos shouting at him but he kept his eyes on the girl.

As soon as he got close to her, he took her by the shoulders and led her to a cubicle where, after having beaten the players out, he managed to close the door with her.

She was just about to thank him when Nam-gyu waved his hand at her to shut up.

—Not a word —he said, taking deep breaths.

—I was going to tell you that you are an idiot.

He gave her an annoyed look, but she was actually grateful even though she wasn't going to say it out loud.

Despite hearing the screams and gunshots through the door, the tension between them was also palpable.

They had so many things to say to each other but it was neither the time nor the place, Nam-gyu only needed to be so close to death to know that among so much shit in his life she was the only one he needed.

Their relationship had been so close and strong that all it took to end it was a one-night stand with another woman, and now he regretted it.

—I was drugged when I slept with her —he said without turning to look at her and watching through the small crack in the door as the pink soldiers collected the corpses of the eliminated players.

—That doesn't make it better —she replied without much enthusiasm.

Just by hearing her voice he knew that she had not let go of the past either, he knew her well enough to realize that the feeling of wanting to return was mutual.

But neither of them took the step that was required.

Once the doors opened, they both silently left there, Nam-gyu was the first to go towards Thanos who looked at him with his eyes half closed.

[...]

During the voting, the players looked at each other with hatred and other mixed emotions, Nam-gyu's gaze remained on the girl who was on the side of those who had chosen the tag, it was curious how now he too was questioning whether he should choose the circle again or this time make the decision to end the games.

—¡Press the circle! —Thanos shouted euphorically, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Min-su was slightly startled by the sudden shout, "Pathetic" Nam-gyu thought but he also felt somewhat pressured to make a decision.

After Thanos went to vote, he approached the poor trembling boy and spoke into his ear.

—If you don't press the circle you will be left alone without anyone to defend you.

It seems that this was enough to keep the 125 votes in his favor, with that they would win and continue participating, but when it was his turn his hand deviated towards the huge check mark.

He clearly heard Thanos' frustrated groan.

He took the red badge that the guard gave him and stood next to those his companion so hated.

—I honestly thought you would vote to keep playing —the girl murmured, standing next to him —¿What made you change your mind?

—Shut the fuck up —he mumbled angrily.

She still smiled softly at him and took his hand, a simple but meaningful sign that she was still by him side. Just as she had promised him since they met

The votes ended in a tie and now Nam-gyu had to continue playing and tolerating the irritable Thanos, he did not consider him his friend but his partner, he only hoped that this decision making would not influence their bond of trust too much.

Unfortunately, that was not the case and the tension between both sides of players increased with every second in the men's room.

—I'm not mad at you —230 said, approaching him while splashing some cold water on his face —I would also bend over backwards for a hottie like her.

He wanted to avoid fights but 333 butted into his conversation.

—Stop bothering others, you must understand that not all of us want to die in here.

Thanos laughed amused. —Oh look! The two lovebirds want to get out of here just because their girlfriends asked them to!

—I think we've collected enough money —Nam-gyu interrupted with a stern expression and a defensive posture. —Friend, we can still get out of here.

Maybe if 230 hadn't been under the influence of drugs he would have listened to him and they would have had a formal conversation where everyone would have come out a winner.

But that wasn't the case, instead he blurted out the following words.

—¿Why don't I just let you two die in the next game? You two can relax, I'll take care of your girlfriends so they won't be alone, if you know what i mean...

He barely finished the sentence with an arrogant smile when 333 threw a punch that Thanos managed to dodge.

He was going to make fun of it if it hadn't been for Nam-gyu punching him in the face, leaving him stunned and unleashing a fight between the Circle team and the X team.

Nam-gyu may have been a jerk to her, but she was still his girl and even if he had to kill other contestants, he would make sure they both came out alive and with a good amount of money.

Yeah... he did love her.

[icarus-suraki]

Hey. I'm 42 and female on government documents and, based on my experience as an unattractive/ugly woman, I kind of want to add some other nuance.

In my experience it's more like "She's 29 (or 30 or 45 or 60), but she's daring to exist publicly despite being Too Old and that's not acceptable." The attitude is that once a woman passes a certain age and/or level of attractiveness, she should retreat--into being A Mommy, or into her job (nothing too important of course), or into being a lonely spinster with too many cats. Withdraw yourself, is the message, because you're too old to be any good anymore.

Remember that quote from Dazed and Confused? "That's what I love about these high school girls, man. I get older, they stay the same age." There's always someone younger and prettier on the way; women are disposable. If you have to exist past your expiration date, for the children or whatever, you'd better exist privately. No one wants to see you.

If you're "too old" and still in public view, you're drawing too much attention to yourself. You're whoring yourself out for attention and you don't seem to realize that you're doing it. lol cringe--shouldn't you be scrapbooking or something? (That is, shouldn't you have relegated yourself to the private domain?)

And, importantly, the commentary is meant to be a deterrent. If you won't disappear once you're past your "expiration date," then you deserve to be punished for daring to appear in public. If you're not fuckable, no one cares, and we will repeat it until you go away.

It's not quite that "this woman has served her purpose" because a "[cis-] woman's purpose" is to be a vessel for [cis-] men's desires--whether that be as muse, wife, sex object, decoration, helpmeet, whatever. And doing something like one's own art or poetry is not in support of a man's desires--a double-strike. You're really drawing attention to yourself then.

The other thing is that, frankly, some men don't seem to think that women have any kind of inner world or interior life, despite constantly being labeled as too emotional, hilariously. Like the guys with marble statues for Twitter icons who seem to think that emotion is raw reaction and detached observation is skill and only skill can be used to make art, idk. So poetry based on emotion experienced by a woman who is also "too old" to engage with the public world is just incredibly cringy to this sort of dudebro.

tl;dr: If you're not fuckable, you're cringe for existing and you should just go die lol

okay is she being actually immature or is it just a woman over 30 expressing a human experience you find to be immature.

like yeah. at certain ages... let shit go. im not defending the real immature shit. im not defending the karen you're picturing. i worked in retail i hate those people too. (once somebody got mad at me because she didn't like how our winter window decor was a snowman smoking a pipe. i wish i was joking).

but men at 57 will write books about how 17 year old girls are soooo sexy. they will invent worlds where women have to be naked for "armor reasons." they will write songs that treat women as objects. people rush to defend them. meanwhile a woman at 35 will be like "heartbreak is hard, actually" or "i feel betrayed by a friend" or "i am struggling with something emotionally." immediately people will say stuff like this woman is 35 by the way. by the way this woman is SO OLD to be experiencing this. BY THE WAY.

im 31, almost 32. the other day a poet was blasted online because at her "big age", she had written a poem about feeling unloved. top comment was "this woman is 29 by the way." this woman is too old to still be useful, by the way. she has to behave better . maybe if she was a good wife and mother she could stop existing loudly, and the story could continue on without her. this woman has served her purpose, by the way. she's so cringe, by the way. at 29 - so old! - she still hasn't figured out that her existence should be one of shame.

[ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat]

sorry if you feel objectified - spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

reader spills to the ladies of the bau... which is fine until spencer hears

requested by: @floraisunwell

genre: fluff (vv silly) wc: 405 warnings: established relationship, mentioned sex, awkwardness, teasing, talk of objectification

Maybe it was a tad inappropriate to be discussing last night's escapades with your boyfriend—and coworker—at work but was it really that surprising? I mean, the team only just find out about you two and you don't have many friends here in DC. It's not like the ladies of the BAU were going to let you skimp on the details, anyways.

So, you tell them everything.

"He did what?!" Penelope screeches. You have to hold a finger to her lips to remind her that you're in the kitchenette and not behind closed doors.

Holding back far too loud giggles, you whisper-yell, "shut up!" After a moment of waiting for her to calm down, you continue the story, "over the couch..."

Emily's mouth opens before she asks quietly, baffled, "over? Like...?"

"I'm not describing our sex positions!" you giggle. Then, with feigned nonchalance, you add, "he looked good doing it, though." And, of course, that's the moment Spencer walks into the BAU with a confused, furrowed brow and red everything. A not-so-amusing, mumbled, "busted," comes from JJ.

Holding up her mug as an act of congratulation, Emily grins, "we've heard great things."

If it's even possible, his face gets even more red. You can only imagine the things he's picturing in his head right now. "W—What have you heard?"

"Nothing! Uh, they heard nothing. Coffee?" you suggest nervously.

You couldn't possibly be even a little shocked that Penelope had told Morgan. Unfortunately for Spencer, that means he's now a victim of his teasing.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Morgan smiles, "how do you feel about being objectified the person you're sleeping with?"

"It's not objectifying," Spencer mutters boredly, pressing a key on his computer's keyboard.

As if he already knew what he was going to say, Morgan hums before responding with, "I don't know, some of the things she said seemed pretty... explicit."

At that, he flushes, most likely recalling last night perfectly, thanks to his eidetic memory. That's when you butt in, not having it with the conversation. "Morgan," you warn.

His hands fly up in surrender and you glare at him. "Clearly you've never heard girl-talk before because that was nothing," you smile innocently. Morgan's eyebrows raise as he backs away towards his desk.

Spencer pops his head up and looks at you over the divider between your desks, brows furrowed and lips parted in confusion. Probably mortification, too.

"That conversation was nothing?"

[ellecdc]

always there

prompt from @unstablereader: What about alpha!Barty and omega!Treasure where he's been helping her with heats as friends do, but then another alpha actually takes interest in her and they both kind of flip out. Reader has a bit of a meltdown because "that's not HER alpha" and Barty gets pissed because "that's MY omega"

alpha!Barty Crouch Jr x omega!reader who already has an alpha [1.9k words]

CW: fem!reader, omegaverse, marking/claiming, speaking of heat cycles, scenting, brief angst, all fluff

Anyone from the outside looking in probably would have thought Barty was looking at you rather predatorily. And to some extent he might have been, but it was only because he was worried about you. 

Dorcas’ birthday had fallen on a Friday and she was very much looking forward to throwing a party the day-of instead of “the day after when the novelty of growing older and wiser has worn off.” 

The beginning of your heat cycle started on Saturday.

Barty had been keeping religious track of your cycle for years; he had been ever since you first presented back at school. Too young to be marked or claimed by an alpha of your own, Barty has been able to help you through your heats; whatever you needed. Whether it was scenting, feeling secure in the presence of an alpha who promised to shield you from any unwanted attention, or a knot, Barty was there.

He’d always be there.

Which is why he had shown up to your flat the morning of the party and asked if you didn’t think you ought to stay home tonight. 

“She’s really looking forward to it, though.” You’d said of Dorcas who, was indeed looking forward to celebrating her birthday day-of with all of her friends, and would have been more than understanding of your absence. 

The day before your heat wasn't always too bad. Sometimes you experienced a fever, but not always. Sometimes you were anxious or fidgety, but not always. But your scent was certainly stronger (especially to alphas with a certain proclivity to it), and Barty worried about you.

Generally, you could manage to keep your normal routine the day before your heat.

Normal routine being school, work, and the ability to bathe, feed and clean up after yourself. 

Barty did not think that extended to entertaining a large group of people - many of which would likely be Gryffindors seeing as Dorcas had gone and shacked up with one - for an entire evening.

He told you as much.

You pulled your lips between your teeth as you considered Barty’s words, fiddling with the hem of the jumper of his you were currently wearing; yet another sign of your incoming heat. 

Suddenly, you looked up at him. “You’ll be there, though. Right?” 

Barty smiled immediately. “I’ll be there, treasure. By your side, of course.”

Something about the way he spoke to you had you folding yourself into his chest, a very welcome change indeed, and inhaling deeply. He held you tighter in response.

”And can I borrow your Guns ‘n Rose’s t-shirt?” 

You barely had the question out before Barty was agreeing. “Yes, you can borrow my Guns ‘n Rose’s t-shirt. That’s what this was really about, hm? I’m just an extra closet for you.” He teased.

You giggled into his chest before pulling back to look up at him. You weren’t flushed yet, your eyes were bright and alert, and he would be there.

He would always be there.

”Okay fine you can go to the party.” He ‘relented’ theatrically, earning him a cackling laugh in response.

”How very magnanimous of you.” 

He flashed you a boastful smirk. “That’s me; Barty the Great.” 

“Wear the shirt today please?” You called after him as he turned to leave instead of gracing him with a response. That was fine, he already knew you thought he was great. 

So, yeah. He wore his beloved Guns ‘n Roses t-shirt all day, making sure to even work up a light sweat so that his scent blanketed you tighter, and he met you before the party so that the two of you could go together.

“So, you’re telling me there’s nothing I can do to convince you to stay in tonight?” He asked as he lounged lazily on your bed whilst you got ready for the party. 

“Why do you keep trying to squirrel me away?” You laughed as you hiked up a pair of trousers over your hips. 

Barty scoffed and held out a Rubik’s cube that he’d solved, scrambled, solved, and scrambled again whilst you changed as if you’d said something barmy. “‘Cause I want you all to myself, obviously?”

”Obviously.” You drawled back at him, pulling his your shirt over your head. 

“You know, Tres, I think the question should be less why I keep trying to squirrel you away and why you’re so hellbent on going.” He retorted, moving to sit up properly and toss the Rubik’s cube over his shoulder unceremoniously. 

“Because if I stay home, you’ll stay with me. Yeah?” You asked plainly, moving to stand in front of Barty with your hands on your hips and a displeased pout on your lips that Barty itched to boop with his finger but refrained. 

“‘Course.”

Your lips pursed. “‘Course. And then two of us will be missing from Dorcas’ party.” 

“Oh my gods this keeps coming back to Dorcas’ party.” He let out with a groan before falling back spread eagle on your bed. 

“Get up. We’re leaving.” You called over your shoulder as you strutted out of your room.

So you left.

And you went to Dorcas’ party.

So, yeah. Barty was leaning against the wall of (Marlene &) Dorcas’ flat pretending to listen to whatever Regulus’ dumb boyfriend was so excited about as he watched you rather predatorily. 

“Barty, you’re being terribly rude.” Regulus hissed, finally managing to encourage Barty’s eyes from you.

”Yeah? You’ll have to bring it up with management.” He drawled in a bored manner, smirking at the flash of indignance in Regulus’ eyes. 

And then he heard the pitch of your voice raise higher and his sights were back on you.

Back on you, and Caradoc Dearborn (if Barty wasn’t mistaken - he never did bother learning all of the Gryffindor’s names) as you shifted your weight between your feet. 

“You must be close though, yeah? You smell amazing.” He could hear the bloke say as he flashed you a charming smile.

Barty wanted to punch the teeth right out of his mouth. 

“Oh, look at that.” James commented casually. “Think this might be the year Y/N finds an alpha of her own?”

She has an alpha of her own, Barty nearly growled before the blood drained from his face. 

Except you didn’t have an alpha of your own - not in any way that would matter to Caradoc or any other alpha who might recognise the slightly sweeter smell coming from you tonight. 

Maybe not even in any way that would matter to you. 

But shit, Barty was yours.

He was your friend, your Barty, your alpha; whatever you needed him to be he’d be it. 

And then your eyes met his.

And your lips parted. 

And Barty would always be there.

So he quirked his eyebrow at you - do you need me?

Your lips closed and pressed into a straight line - help. 

He’s pretty sure he stepped on James’ shoe and spilled some of Regulus’ drink on him as he brushed past the pair, but Barty’s mind was singular and zeroed in. 

“Need a refill, Tres?” He asked lowly, keeping his gaze on Caradoc as he sidled up behind you. 

“I was just about to offer her one myself.” Caradoc offered with another toothy grin, though the smile didn’t seem to meet his eyes as he met Barty’s gaze. 

“She’s fine.”

“Do you speak for her, mate?” Caradoc asked as he leaned against the door frame with an ease he clearly didn’t feel if the tendons in his arms told Barty anything. 

“What exactly is it you came to ask her, mate?” Barty asked then, watching Caradoc’s eyes shift between his and yours before he straightened. 

“I figured a pretty little omega like herself might need an alpha.” He responded simply. 

“I already have one…” You mumbled, and whilst Caradoc spoke over you, causing him to miss this key detail, Barty sure didn’t. 

“I was simply here to offer my services.” He carried on chippily. 

“She isn’t a commodity.” Barty spat before looking down as you instinctively leaned into him. “Do you want his help, treasure?” 

You quickly shook your head and one of your hands wound itself into the fabric of his shirt. He covered your hand with his. 

“No.” You managed to squeak. 

Caradoc tilted his head curiously at you. “No? Not even this close to a heat?” 

“I’m surprised you even managed to pick that up with how much she smells like me, Dearborn.” Barty spat then. 

“I don’t see a mark on her, Junior, so I sort of figured it was fair play.”

“I have an Alpha…” You tried again, squaring your shoulders. “I’ve always had an alpha.” 

Caradoc all but sneered at you. “No mark means no bond.”

A sardonic smile took over Barty’s face as he pushed the hair away from your shoulder, slowly bending at the waist to bring his mouth to your neck all whilst maintaining eye contact with Caradoc. 

His lips ghosted the expanse of skin where your scent was the strongest, and Barty found himself nearly drunk off it. Heart a riot within his chest; Barty wondered if the fluttering of your pulse beneath his lips would match the cadence of his own. 

“What do you say, Tres?” He murmured, breath fanning across your skin as he watched Caradoc’s eyes narrow and jaw twitch. He could believe he was really doing this. 

“Please.” Was your immediate response. 

His serious facade almost fell completely when you surprised a breathy chuckle out of him. 

“A simple yes or no would have sufficed, sweetheart.” He said before he pressed a delicate kiss to the space, causing you to nod your head in an undeniable yes. “But… since you asked so nicely.” 

And he latched onto your scent point and bit down; hard. 

Caradoc - apparently no longer interested in getting you that drink - was long gone by the time Barty opened his eyes again and pulled off of you, licking the wound once before leaning back to admire his work; memorialized in your skin, two crescent moons. Him.

You turned to look at him with tears in your eyes.

His stomach fell out of his arse.

“Treasure? Hey, Y/N. What- are you okay?” He rapid fired, and then you were in his arms, kissing him everywhere you could reach. 

“Thank you. Oh my god. Thank you.” You cried, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling him in for a deep, lingering kiss. 

Barty mumbled a question into your mouth until you finally relented your (much appreciated) assault on his lips. “What are you thanking me for?” 

You turned bashful. Barty loved it. 

Barty loved you.

“Claiming me.” You admitted shyly. “I-... I realised I…I don’t want anyone else. I don’t want any alpha.”

You looked at him as though you’d just been given the gift of sight; finally seeing him clearly for the very first time. 

“I just want you.” 

“I’m yours, treasure.” Barty vowed, lowering his forehead to yours. “I’m all yours.”

[aninipanin1]

WHO'S THE PRETTY GIRL?

The Blue Lock players were expecting a lot from the Neo-Egoist League, but what they did not expect was the fact that their manager would attract the eyes of their masters enough for them to ask them about her.

Notes: Reader is implied a female and is in her mid-20s (25 to 27, but whatever age works for you guys). The Blue Lock boys loves Reader platonically, almost like their older sister. The love interests are of course the Masters (except Loki)

LAVINHO

"Coach-! Ehh..?"

Bachira stopped in his tracks as he entered the door to the field. Unfortunately for him, Otoya and Kitsunezato followed suit and bumped into the boy.

"Ow man, what's wrong with you?"

Otoya, who got the brunt of it due to hitting his nose on Bachira's head, complained. Meanwhile, Kitsunezato just tilted his head as to why Bachira just stayed in his place.

"Bachira-san? What's wrong?"

Bachira then slowly tilted his head. His golden eyes looked at the scene in front of him where you, their manager, talked quite amicably with the Spanish Coach.

This was not much of a surprise to any of them, for you always tried your best to get involved in the boys' training to make sure they were improving while also having ample time to rest. You always reasoned how they were still in their teens and needed proper guidance with a proper and mature adult (since Ego can't really be trusted on that part), so you talking to the masters were no surprise.

What got Bachira, and in turn Otoya and Kitsunezato, raising eyebrows was the fact that for the first time in, like, forever since they met him, Lavinho was quiet. His mouth was zipped, zilched, as he just looked and listened to whatever you were saying.

Lavinho was a man very passionate in his craft, and there are many times where he would say his own input when it comes to the sport, with cheerful countenance too. But, at that moment, he was as quiet as a stone.

"The hell is up with him?"

Bachira asked quite curiously. Kitsunezato just shrugged while Otoya formed a small smirk, seeing how not only was Lavinho quiet in front of you, but the man was also a little too close to you. Adding to that, Lavinho's eyes were literally ogling you, which the white haired striker did not like.

Otoya was all too familiar when it came to flirting and the look of attraction, and man, was his coach making it quite obvious he found you, their manager, attractive.

"Oh lord, not this again."

Bachira turned to Otoya, completely oblivious.

"What?"

"Can't you guys see? Coach is making goo-goo eyes on our manager. He's too obvious, geez."

Kitsunezato only let out an "oh" of understanding. Meanwhile, it took Bachira a while to get what Otoya was saying, and by the time he realized, you were already gone from the field.

"WAIT- YOU MEAN-! NOOOOOO!!"

The two other players jumped at Bachira's sudden outburst, as the boy sprinted to where Lavinho was still stuck on his position, standing up, hands on the Football basket as if it was his only support.

"What? Yo, Bachira-"

"NO! YOU CAN'T BE WITH HER, COACH! I WON'T ALLOW IT! YOU'RE NOT GONNA MAKE Y/N-SAN HAPPY! LEAVE HER ALONE!"

Lavinho was taken aback at the sudden frowning face of Bachira. He got what the boy was talking about as he pulled up a mischievous smirk.

"Hey, you don't know that, blondie. I can treat her well ya know?"

But Bachira was not having it. He loved you like a sister, and there was no way he would allow you to date someone who can not make you happy.

Otoya sighed and held the scruff of Bachira's sweater as the boy tried to struggle like a feral cat. Kitsunezato then spoke out.

"Didn't you just meet her, coach?"

"Yeah, but can't I appreciate a beauty? Especially one with brains like hers. Beautiful women are attractive, yes, but when they're smart and have their own original opinions, they become hotter in my eyes."

Otoya chuckled at that, Bachira became even more feral, like a child in Otoya's hold while Kitsunezato sighed at this.

"Sheesh, what did she even say to you?"

"I asked her about many things and suggestions in your guys' training, and well, her answers are very fun and interesting, to say the least. Do one of you have her number? I didn't get it from her earlier."

Bachira just shook his head violently, for he had your number and refused to give up your info to his coach.

CHRIS PRINCE

"Yo, Reo. Have you seen Prince?"

Reo turned to Chigiri, who had just entered the training field. It was yet another day of training in the English Stratum. Most of the players are scattered in the facility to do their own training from the regime given to them, leaving Reo, Nagi, and now, Chigiri alone in the field.

Nagi laid out on the grass of the field as him and Reo rested for a bit. The purple-haired player tried to recall where he had seen the English Master.

"Hmm, I remember him saying that he had a meeting with Ego along with the rest of the masters. Maybe he hasn't come back from it yet?"

"Really? Hmm, I guess I'll just wait for him here."

"Go on."

The three remained in the field, Nagi slowly snoring away in the grass as Reo and Chigiri watched a recording of their previous plays on a tablet. It was all quiet until the door to the training field opened, revealing Chris Prince, who probably just came from his meeting.

"Oh, good thing you guys are here! I actually wanted to ask you guys something!"

The blonde man grinned as he put his arm around Chigiri and Reo, one for each player as the two raised an eyebrow at him. They knew he was eccentric and a bit...touchy, but he never did this before. Reo then decided to speak.

Chris pulled out his phone, whistling innocently.

"What is it?"

"Do one of you know or have your manager's number?"

"Yes, we three have it. Why?" Chigiri responded, and that made the grin on the professional player's face widen.

"Great! Can you put it in my phone?"

Now that made the two blink as Chris threw his phone in Reo's hands where the phone app was already open. Reo grew a bit more suspicious of this.

"And why do you need Y/n-san's phone number? You two just met in the meeting, I'm sure of it."

The man shrugged, but it was obvious to the two that he was hiding something.

'Weird, I feel like I'm having deja vu...oh wait-'

Chigiri suddenly remembered one certain group of professionals asking him the same thing back in the second selection. The redhead's once curious expression turned into a bored and rather done expression. He then raised his arm and pulled a way from his master's hold.

"Nope, I already know what you want Y/n-san's number for."

"Oh, come on, Hyoma. Don't be like that! I'm not that bad-"

"I'll be the judge of that. Besides, don't you have fangirls? I don't want Y/n-san to be with someone who'll be a hassle to be with."

Reo added, finally getting the implications. He wondered what the coach heard or saw from you for him to immediately ask them for your number. Reo always knew you were beautiful, kind, and responsible. That's why most, if not all, the players in the facility trusted and are quite attached to you, viewing you as some sort of maternal and comforting figure that Blue Lock can not provide alone.

But, he was interested in how you managed to reel in the attention of the second best striker in the world. And, so he did ask, and boy, did he, along with Chigiri who listened regretted. Chris just started to tell them about how not only were you a sight for sore eyes, but absolutely smart and egoistic in your own right even as a manager. About how, even if you had that side to you, when you were not talking about football, you were very kind, caring and very open.

Chigiri responded, his words made a hollow, almost bitter chuckle from the professional player's mouth.

"Yeah, Y/n-san is amazing, but you rave about her like it's your first time meeting a genuinely good person."

"When you are in the spotlight, most people you meet tend to have ulterior motives, and even, different personalities. It's attractive to see a woman both passionate about her craft yet still serious about her morals."

Reo sighed, agreeing to what his master said. But, he was a bit miffed that there was another guy they had to watch out for. He could not help but let out a sigh.

'Y/n-san, you attract the most troublesome guys around here.'

MARC SNUFFY

"Is it just me, or does he look quite distracted with Y/n-san?"

Niko innocently commented as he, Aryu, Barou, and Oliver, watched their master and manager talk from afar while doing their stretching. It has been a few days since the Neo-Egoist League commenced, and everyone in the facility became busier than ever.

You, being the manager, of course, were one of the busiest as you tried your best to take care of all the 5 stratums with only a little help from other staff members due to their own jobs. It was hard, but you always managed for the boys. So that is why you find yourself currently talking to the foreign coach, asking about the improvements of the Blue Lockers who are under his wing currently.

"Hah? So what? She's talking to him, so of course he'll listen."

Barou said in his usual rough tone, with a hint of confusion as to why Niko had to point that out. Oliver on the other hand, just smirked.

"Ah-ah, you don't understand, though, Your majesty. The look in our dear master striker's eyes is something you can only see in the eyes of someone feeling something to someone whom they are talking to."

"That was just confusing." Niko quipped.

"What are you even proposing?" Barou raised an eyebrow.

"What if, Snuffy-san, over there...likes her?" Oliver smirked. His claim immediately made Barou roll his eyes before walking away, not believing it. Niko and Aryu only tilted their heads in confusion, not seeing their master as someone who would fall in love or even have a trivial crush on someone he just met a few weeks ago.

"You probably hit your damn head, dumbass."

"I don't think he's like you, Aiku." Niko commented, making the defender mutter an "Oi," before moving on with the topic.

"It's just, I've been hearing gossips from the other stratums that the master's have been...a little too close to our manager these past few weeks. Who knows?"

"And praytell, where the hell did you hear this from?" Barou asked.

"From Otoya and Chigiri-"

"Not surprised. You three are quite the gossipers." Niko added.

"Very glam yet not at the same time."

"Well duh, of course. Have you not seen their coaches? Childish as hell. Ours ain't all like them." Barou rolled his eyes.

"You have a point. But hey, I said it here. If you all are wrong, you owe me."

They turned back to you and Snuffy and saw that you were already bidding your goodbye to the master coach, your phone between your ear, probably another one of your managerial and staffly responsibilities, they didn't know, but it was quite common to see you run about the halls of the facility.

Snuffy soon joined them, waiting for the rest of the players on the field since it was still quite early and training was to start in a few more minutes. The other four Blue Lockers only being there due to a plan they formulated and wanted to reenact before practice.

They see the coach looking quite happily down at his phone, seemingly satisfied with what he was seeing as he typed away on it. With the four players feeling quite curious as to why he had such...an abnormally happy grin, they approached Snuffy to ask, and suffice it to say, they were a little bit surprised with what he said next.

"It's nothing, I'm just happy Miss Y/n finally gave me her number, although it is under the guise of talking about you, Blue Lockers, and your training. It's still worth it."

"Y/n-san's number?" Niko asked to which the coach nodded.

"Yes, I wanted to get to know her more, is all. I wanted to ask some of you about her, but I reckoned it's better to get to know her myself and at the same time, get closer to her. It's like killing two birds with one stone."

"That is glamourously...logical." Aryu commented.

"What do you mean by get to know her more?" Niko asked.

"Hm? I meant in a more personal level. Oh, by the way, I heard most of you are quite close to her, especially you, Niko, since she always talks about you. Can you tell me what the things she likes are? I would prefer to know it now, just to be advanced."

The boys were taken aback by the question, their thoughts running wildly, but all of them were all thinking the same thing.

'I didn't know he could be that smooth when it comes to women...' The Blue Lockers sweatdropped in their minds.

NOEL NOA

"So, was no one planning to tell me that our master is dating Y/n-san?"

Yukimiya entered the canteen where the rest of the Blue Lockers under Bastard Munchen were having their dinner. As usual, it was quite loud with Raichi yelling nonsense at Gagamaru, while Isagi tried to pull him away. Kurona, Hiori, and Kiyora were the only ones quiet in their own seats, eating their food away.

Isagi raised an eyebrow, his hold on Raichi loosening as his eyes were focused on Yukimiya, or rather, the brunette's words.

"Huh? Y/n-san and Noel Noa dating? Where did you hear that from? I didn't know."

It was not just Isagi who got their attentione peaked. The rest of Blue Lock players also were quite curious as to how and why Yukimiya thought that the striker was dating you, their manager.

"I saw him asking her about a restaurant in Tokyo. It kinda sounds like they, or mostly Noa-san were planning a date."

"Huh? Now that I think about it, Noa-san has been quite close with Y/n-san lately." Hiori said, thinking back to the past weeks ever since the Neo-Egoist League started.

"Whatever it is, I think we shouldn't really get involved. Their personal and dating life is none of pur business anyways." Isagi sighed as he started to eat his own food. After all, most of them had a lot on their plates already too.

With training, the League, Blue Lock as a whole, and the upcoming U-20 World Cup, it was a little hard to find gaps or time to care about trivial things not concerning them.

But, that mindset immediately vanished after a few days later, when they saw Noel Noa, the best striker in the world, known for his stoicism and cold logic on and off the field. A man who can keep his cool and straightforward attitude any second of the day, seemingly panicking inwardly as his eyes scanned his phone.

Turns out, he did not get to save your number, the one you kindly punched in for him the past week (he pretended to get it for the sake of the Neo-Egoist League and the Blue Lock players of course), and well, since you were kind of an elusive figure most times of the day, having so many responsibilities, he did not know where else to communicate with you.

Sure, he can use the management system given to the masters to call for your assistance, but those are used in emergencies, and he did not want to disturb or scare you, thinking that something wrong happened when he just wanted to speak with you, in a more casual terms.

Nope, he was not illogical and irresponsible like that. So, instead, he finally let his pride down a bit and went to his players to ask something that shocked most of them.

"Can I get your manager's number?"

Nothing was heard except Raichi spitting out water from his water bottle on the grass the training field provided. Isagi, who was the one Noa asked, just blinked at his master's question or, rather, request due to the tone of his voice.

"Um, sure. I can put it in for you, Noa-san."

The albino man only nodded his head and gave the boy his phone. Isagi, meanwhile, was taken quite a back, his expression one of disbelief and resignation.

'Well, Its not like this is the first time someone asked us for Y/n-san's number anyways.'

Compared to Isagi, the rest of the Bastard Munchen players were less calm about it. Raichi's mouth, along with Kurona's were still wide. Yukimiya was blinking, eyes wide in disbelief as if he was hallucinating, and Hiori who had literal spirals for his eyes, the situation making him feel quite dizzy.

"I never knew, he can be like...this."

"Me neither." Hiori responded to the shocked claim Yukimiya said, not used to the master of the German team acting like this.

"Well, I mean, are we even surprised? This feels like the World 5 incident all over again." Kiyora, who just arrived, sat with them, remembering the ending of the 2nd selection where they met and faced international players, and needless to say, most of them were not even hiding the fact they found you attractive and wanted your details.

"Right, right, I forgot about that." Kurona muttered. But, Yukimiya just ended things with a shrug, watching Isagi give the coach his phone before running off to join the rest of them.

"Well, it is a shock. But, its not like we can do anything about it. Y/n-san is just like that, she attracts the most...um, diverse people to her. Probably, the reason why she also has a lot of fans worldwide."

The rest nodded, returning to their training, knowing deep down that, no matter how much they wanted to fight off the men who were interested in you, it cannot be helped when their manager was just someone like you, and they would never ever change you for the world.

After all, you are the elder sister figure they did not know they needed in this asylum-like facility and no professional football player who is attracted to you, can change that.

BONUS!

"Hmm, I think with the power of Y/n-chan alone, we can convince the rest of the World 5 players before to come again-" Anri tried to recommend only to be given a heavy glare by Ego, who found the idea less than appealing.

"No, these four are enough of a headache to be around her. I don't need Blue Lock TV turning into a dating show."

"..."

"I know you're jealous, but-"

"Just do your work, Anri-chan. That way, we can get this thing over with."

With that, the woman shrugged and left the room, heading off to find you to hopefully ask for your help in other work around the facility.

ADDITIONAL TIME!

Y/n: Hello, I am the manager of Blue Lock-

The Masters and the World 5: Already off to buy the ring, prepare our future house, adopting 6 cats and planning our retirement days and building our coffins together. Anything else we're forgetting?

Blue Lockers: Yes. The fact that you literally just met her?

The Masters and the World 5: ...

The Masters and the World 5: I fail to see the problem with that-

This is based off of that small headcannon I posted a few months ago (i think?) And well, this took me a while to post but I finally finished it lol. By the way, this Y/n is different from the other manager Y/n from my previous post. That Y/n is a minor (15, 16 or 17, depending on you, reader) and her lpve interests are the minor characters. While this Y/n is an adult and here love interests are the adult players and characters. Like I said, when I say Masters and World 5 in this, I only mean the adult ones, not Loki. Loki is the love interest of Minor Manager Y/n sooo yeah! Hope you enjoy!

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[luca-street-chris-deacon-rp]

Luca agreed with Fallon, smiling. "Yeah, like I get the whole dozens of courses thing is super fancy but I don't think I could cope with one bite of something."

"I understand completely, so which three options would you guys like for starters?" She beamed and was playing with Gracie inbetween. "And we also have a free children's menu for however many children are at the event as a wedding special."

"We'll, we're looking for a vegetarian dish for the first and second course and then....." He was trying to read the menu options but with the dyslexia it took a little longer for him.

"Daddy feels like he needs help walking sometimes, so thank you, princess." Once they were inside the building, he shot Fallon a playful glance as a very excited Gracie inspected the plastic plants in the plant pots. "No touching." He warned their daughter and she did as she was told, running back to them.

Then they were shown into a comfortable tasting suite where a young woman in a chef's jacket introduced herself. "Good morning, I'm Marie and you must be Fallon and Luca. First of all congratulations on your engagement and marriage to be." She beamed happily, bubbly. She was bubbly infectious. "And who is this sweet girl. Are you helping mom and dad make these big decisions? I bet they need your help and....I've got some building blocks and toys right here." Pulling out a box of toys for Gracie to play with. "So, let's get started. How many courses do you guys want? Some couples prefer three reasonable portions of each course with options for guests and others opt for the ten course tasting menu, which is like a bite, two if you're lucky."