#and if i were him i would be so very tired

[fushiguruuzzzz]

people were often surprised to hear that, if asked, the first word you would use to describe your lover was devoted. of course, they never doubted his love for you. anyone who had merely set eyes on the man would know that he was not the type to date simply for the fun of it. it was just that they would not exactly consider him the type to be whipped, but with the way you spoke of him, it seemed their views were being flipped on their axises.

yes, maybe he was all passive glances and scoffs under his breath, narrowed eyes and the wave of a dismissive hand. maybe he was not one to spread his love to all those that gave him the chance. but what they saw as entitlement, you recognized in its true, concealed form: selectiveness in his passion, for he knew that once the receiver was chosen, it would become all consuming to the both of you.

a personified embodiment of the moon, he was. the comforting, cool light drawn from the whisper of the night, only blessing those who bothered to keep awake. his comfort was only for the ones sharing his insomnia, who basked in the reflections that came from his wrecked body. because he was filled with crevices and holes seen from lightyears away, and yet you sought him out in the sky with your eyes strained from exhaustion — let them burn as you willed them to stay open just for the sight of him. only then did he decide you were worth shining for, keeping the secret of his warmth your very own as he cradled you in the inky black of dusk. as he steered every ray to your gentle face, eyes filled with a fondness only the two of you could ever recognize.

“devoted?” they said, voices heavy with an almost offensive mass of disbelief. but they did not see the way his features melted into awe at the sight of you, the way the crease between his brows flattened to youthful flesh as the love filled in the dents. they did not know the way he would kneel, bruise his knees for you without a doubt if you so much as asked. they did not see it because they did not get the privilege of experiencing it, they did not invade within closed doors with their judgemental eyes, perceiving him as if they had the right. he knew that. you knew that. they did not. so the ghost of affection only sunk into his tired bones as he curled into you, grasping you as if you were the only thing left worth holding. to him, you absolutely were, and that knowledge proved more devotion than any man you had heard faceless strangers gush about.

suguru geto. levi ackerman. kei tsukishima. osamu miya. rintaro suna. megumi fushiguro. ryomen sukuna?. kento nanami. tobio kageyama. kiyoomi sakusa. erwin smith.

a/n: I wrote this on the toilet in five minutes and pulled the characters out of my ass please don’t hate me for this 😭😭 felt bad putting only suguru, levi, and kei so I slapped some others there.

[dilf-docs]

Darlin', Can I Be Your Favorite?

dbf!boxer pedro pascal x younger fem!reader

summary: it should be simple. helping your dad's best friend to train for his upcoming match in his hometown, chile. but turns out, world-renowned boxer the viper isn't just a menace in the ring.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (girthy), smut, p. in v., oral (m. receiving), rough sex, public sex, praise kink, humilliation kink, daddy kink (she's got daddy issues; idc if this is mischaracterizing you, you'll live), dom!pedro, use of pet names (doll/baby), some angst because that's my staple, idk shit about boxing my bad (i'm more of a ufc girlie kinda) so let's focus on the filth!!

word count: 5,874 words

side note: this very different albeit genius request got me a small hit tweet. song of choice for this piece i sped up because of my ovulation is favorite, by isabel larosa. there are several paragraphs in this that could be used against me and are proof i'm loosing my mind during this midterm/fertile week had to use a clint gif because freaky tales clint is so sexy might watch the movie on theatres with my legs open

You weren't new to this.

The small walls, dim light, the sweat, the blood... you were shoved into it. By your father, since you were a baby. Long before you could even walk, grabby hands trying to reach for a ring that seemed so far, the violence and the rage contained inside the quadrilateral.

So you grew up wanting it. The desire. The ichor. Rough and brutal.

You'd never step in, but always stood by your father's side. Until the age of boys, over-coated glossy lips and blooming girlhood arrived. Long gone where the days were you'd be next to your dad inside the dim-light place, now filled with car rides and girly laughter about all and nothing. You changed the sweat scent of the place for vainilla, and the oversized t-shirts for skirts that showed your laced panties if you bent.

The fights started then, but the ring became your home. Slut, he'd call you, saying this wasn't the girl he raised. Your mother would cry, tired of trying to stop the fighting that extended sometimes until late at dawn, when you'd show up on the doorstep, skirt torn apart and panties wet despite the dry summer.

The beast laid dormant inside you. That primal raw hunger; it never ceased to exist.

Now it was on your roaring voice, refusing to shut up and take the harsh language spoken by your own blood. It was on the defiance, cutting your clothes even smaller, pushing the wearable limit. On the way your makeup and manners got more scandalous, and how you'd throw your door louder each time another confrontation took place, the once lively home now a wrestle between two forces refusing to back down. But when you weren't with a bottle in your mouth or a guy in between your legs, you'd think of his hands grabbing yours as he showed you the gym around, introducing you to regulars. My little girl, he'd said proudly, and you would smile like he did. You'd grab the broken frame you once threw against the wall in a fit of rage, crimson imprinted over the photograph below the broken shards you tried to miserably put together again. Fucking failure. But it's impossible to piece what's already broken back together.

But you were still a believer, despite it all: the same girl who saw the magic in the beasts trapped within the cage, thunderous brutality in the place you once called your second home.

Maybe that's why you agreed to help your dad on this. To see a bit of that smile that had faded in time like the colors of the rust painted lockers. To hear a good girl praise. Not slut. To see a glimpse of the man who said he'd pass this place to you, useless now on his mouth as the gym crumbled just like your relationship. In the end, you were his daughter, begging to be seen.

And you were seen. Not by him. But by him.

The Viper. Pronounced in a whisper, because out loud sounded like a curse, bound to risk too much.

He had been a casual before, remembering his days when no facial hair adorned his face and he'd talk with your dad while laughing in a boasting sound, like he knew he'd break out in the scene. He did. And then he stopped coming, because he was too busy winning and living life than to return to a place that was falling apart.

But then your dad came rushing home, like he was to bear bad news. And boy, wasn't he? The leather, the greys now starting to take over his hair like the bad choices in the form of women and alcohol, ones that had once carried a bad boy charm which now had ripen into a sour taste, a lifestyle that belonged to the golden years left in a past long left behind. He didn't belong anymore, but refused to quit. The violence was a vice, and despite loosing everything, he had never lost a match.

"He wants to train" your dad panted out to your worried mother, who thought worst. "For a match, in Chile, his hometown. He talks about coming back"

Your dad may have been the first to know such, but not the last. No, because what started with a call late at night on your dad's old office (He had said Remember me, old friend? oscilating between nostalgia and teasing, and when your dad called his name, a soft incredulous Pedro? he had let out one of his victorious golden laughs, like coins falling down, as to let him know it was still him, despite it all), ended up on the news.

He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. Like a warning before the big bad wolf struck again.

In a way, you think, as he stands before you, he is one: the sharp eyes and bearing teeth. A fighter never backs down, and he seemed to be always in guard.

Hadn't recognized you at first, blinking a few times before a lazy and easy sleazy smile appeared on his face.

"This the same girl that asked me to carry her on my shoulders?" and a chuckle. "I think I still could"

A low, dangerous rich rumble. A dare. Challenging. Pedro didn't know you too had changed in many ways, and he certainly didn't know either you had touched yourself at night to the sound of his velvety voice, wrapping you up like the sweat that set your skin ablaze, a fist in your mouth to stop his name from slithering past your lips, image set on the way his eyes roamed over your woman body like an all too well trap he always falls in like a vice, trying to think if it was real or just another one of the troubles you loved to cause yourself.

But once you're deep, you can only go deeper.

Your dad left for Chile a day earlier, to set preparations you could care less, which is why you're here.

You promised not to fuck it up, seeing a peek of that man who swore to protect you from the cruel world outside. You needed this. Wanted this. When his lips parted but closed, many words hanging on the air coated with burnt cigars and sweat (I'm sorry. I'm proud of you. Don't dissapoint me. Don't break my heart. Don't fuck this up. I love you), you decided you'd do everything in your power to get your dad back.

The task was rather easy: help The Viper train before his big match in Chile.

Easy, if said man wasn't your dad's best friend, Pedro Pascal.

You feel like a voyeuristic freak watching from a corner as he pounds into the boxing bag repeatedly. Drops of salty sweat begin to run through his back, the white cloth now near transparent with how it sticks to his tan skin.

Pedro is big. All boxers were, seeing them coming and going from your dad's gym. But he was beefy. Not the slender and compact, but the huge thick type. The one were just his hands alone looked like he could snap your neck in two if he wanted.

You're supposed to be out there, helping him, but after your dirty little session two nights ago, and yesterday's dinner at your home, you're just not capable to meet him in the eye, despite promises to your dad and the fire to get his affection back.

(He had come over for dinner. Your mom made lasagna, your favorite dish of hers, but the plate went cold as you took in his words like an oil, spreading the grave tone that coated your panties like a second skin. You pressed your legs together, a shaky breath escaping past your treacherous lips when he said how much you'd grown, blaming the sauce when he licked his lips. Your parents stood up to collect the dishes, and then he leaned down and whispered: Ain't you become a doll?)

(It was nothing. It was just a man who knew your father and no better. But you didn't, either)

Last night, to erase the spell he seemed to have cast upon you, you went to one of your old friends while he beat himself up on the gym, where you were supposed to be. But when your orgasm washed over, you said his name instead; no cold shower could scrub away the humilliation.

(And the house still smelled like him. Bitter coffee, leather and sweat. It was salty and citric, up in your nostrils with an invasion that was, if not, fitting. You were obssesed, with the champion and the legend, and he was an old man looking for a fresh doe-eyed girl who could take it)

You gawk like a man would, but, how not? Dude too appeared to be hung. What is it they say about men with big noses, big hands and big thighs? Big. Big. Big. Fucking hell, you needed to be locked up.

"I know you're in there, baby" his voice cuts through the silence. It's night, and you should be locking up already, scarce customers long gone. "Was never good at hiding"

You emerge from the shadows, sporting only a small black short and a white tank top. He chuckles. With you, nothing is a coincidence.

"Some things never change"

He snickers, "but glad some do"

You breath in, getting closer to him. Again, his scent intrudes your senses, making you dizzy like a drug. Your circuits are busy, and his high.

"You were supposed to help me 'round here" he motions the place. But you're stuck on his hands, wrapped in tape. Those hands, brief peek of his tattoo hidden between the white. "What would your dad say, huh?"

His tone is devoid of malice and full of teasing, but your stomach churns.

"He'd say what he always says" he shots up an eyebrow, as if daring you to speak. "That I'm a fucking failure"

Pedro seems taken back by the sudden change in the atmosphere, nonetheless, still charged with unspoken uncertainty.

"Your dad?" like he couldn't connect the man he knew to the one he is now.

"How would you know?" comes out harsher than you intended, a shameful bitter taste in your mouth. "A lot has changed since you left"

A quiet rage settles in his eyes, the beast caged behind the enclosure begging to be let out.

"Why you throwing it on my face? I ain't your daddy"

It shouldn't hurt. This is ridiculous. But, hell, it does; you're nobody's daughter.

"Good you aren't my fucking daddy"

The silence washes over you at the same time the embarrassment does. You realize too late the words that left your mouth, and if you're quick to try to run, he's faster, your back pressed to the material of the hanging punching bag.

"Say it" he demands, "again"

Your face grows hotter by the minute. "I have no idea what you're talking about"

"First a terrible discreet and now a bad liar" his spit spurts in your face, each word with punctuation and a seethe. "Anything else?"

Yes. So much. You're drowning at this point, still not deciding if it's because of the smell his body is emanating or your heavy heart's fault. But he's the last person you'll tell all of this to.

"Not that it matters to you, anyway"

Yet, to an extent, it seems like he knows. As if he's able to see past the forced sweetness, the sarcasm and the layers of makeup and numbingly intoxicating vainilla. Pedro thinks at least he does.

So if you're on fire, he'll let you keep burning.

"I could be him, you know?" your ears start ringing at some point, and you're sure your heart stops. "I could be your daddy"

There's no going deeper than this.

"Thank God you aren't"

And it's like a slap to his face. The oh-mighty undisputed champion steps back. There is always a first, and maybe this is what loss feels like.

"Baby-"

Your ears keep on ringing as you move far from him, your heart dangerously close to leaping from your throat to the cold hard ground. Who does he think he is? He hasn't even been back for a day and has already found a way to break you from inside. To ruin you. As if he never left and has known every secret hidden between your ribs, his memory nestled since forever. But he's too picked apart your bones, in just a matter of seconds, biting down on the marrow of your deepest insecurities.

You hate him. You hate Pedro. You hope he looses, and you accept you've already lost your dad.

But then, as you realize your sat at the end of the gym, the worn out lockers on display, you have an idea.

With you, it was always about revenge, wasn't it?

The beast is awake, howling upon you. Ichor. Rage. This rotten girlhood that started with Malibu dreams and has ended on beds that reek of cheap whiskey and a quick fix in the name of forgetting.

"Pedro"

His head almost snaps looking in your direction. Not like he wanted to search for you to ask for your forgiveness. A match to mark his comeback and change his life will happen in just a couple of hours; he's got bigger problems than a girl who can't see things the way they are. He isn't an apostle of acceptance, but his wicked selfish nature finds pleasure in punishing you for his same sins.

But to play a game, you need two.

"In here" he answers, as if he hasn't moved since your little altercation.

"You need to shower" he catches in time the towel you throw at him. He chuckles dryly at your childish behavior. "You stink"

"You sure? 'Cause just a minute ago, it seemed you were into it" he's quick to quip, matching your energy.

That cocky motherfucker. So full of himself. You hate the sleazy smile of a winner. Does he think you're going down as easy as that?

Of course, you aren't blind. He's attractive, but is this worth it? You see his damp shirt and sweat drenched thighs. No. You look away, flustered.

"I think you need a break, old man. You're not who you used to be" you turn your back to him, so he doesn't see your red hot face, "seeing things that aren't real"

You start to walk to the changing room, and even if not spoken, there's an implication to follow you. So Pedro does, because it's night and Friday and he's got nowhere else to go.

He follows you into the locker room, but this isn't you.

Not the little girl who looked up to him like he could beat the whole world, hand in hand. Not the broken woman, who tried so hard to keep up a mask he could easily see through, maybe because it was akin to his own.

No. This is a fucking temptress. A siren call to drown.

"Sit"

He decided to be a boxer the day he knew he wasn't meant to be bent. The day he realized he hated being weak and wanted to always lead his own path. If it was through violence and punches, so be it.

But he's obeying your command, like a lap dog. If the change isn't noticeable enough, your wicked grin gives it away. He takes his place on the bench, sitting down with aching joints.

"What were you thinking?" you whisper.

A vein on his neck pops out aggressively at the remark.

"I can still handle it"

The way his voice drops to a lower octave, the scowl on his face prominent, like he's both offended and peaked in interest by your remark.

"Is that a challenge?" you tease, playfully. "I'm not your opponent, Pascal. Save it for tomorrow night"

Your fingers itch, and before you think about it twice, they're digging across the soft flesh of his broad back.

"What-"

You hush him almost instantly. "Let me"

You trace patters across the expanse of his hard planes, arousal pooling at the rough of his edges, the dry and scarred of his skin. It's also the sturdy built, what makes it harder to not... appreciate. You happen to be into appreciating the small things, that's all.

(But small, he definitely isn't)

"You're tired" you trace his worn muscles, lost in the way he seems to equally tense and relax under your fluttering touch. "Let me help you"

"What's this?" equally soft. A tattoo. But not the one's you've seen; you wonder if it is for your bad memory or because it's new. "Vae victis"

"Woe to the defeated" he's quick to answer. Taking your silence as a signal to continue, he adds. "It's a way to remember the ones I fight are people, not numbers"

If his voice carries a tinge of vulnerability, you must've imagined it.

"Never took you as the empath type" and your fingers leave his skin, as if it burns.

He lets out a soft humorless laugh.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, baby"

You don't let him have the last word, and to punctuate your final blow, you press a short kiss to the tattoo. He didn't see it coming-- your mint breath ghosting over his shoulder onto his face. Pedro forgets how to breath.

"I've always loved a good mystery"

Knockout.

He looks up from the bench, breathing still panting as he sees your retreating figure, until all that's left in the room is him and his worn-out body. Then, the soft pit-pat of the water hitting the tiles jolts him awake.

"It's ready" your voice says, but you're still there, and not back to the lockers.

Why were you preparing him a shower? It's not like he couldn't turn on the switch.

Pedro removes the towel from his neck and walks over to the showers, only to find you still there, white blouse as damp as his.

"What-"

"Get in"

He's about to repeat it, this time harsher and louder (Have you gone insane, woman?), but then your sweet persistent voice digs on his mulish character like a knife to a wound, and his reasoning has flown out of the window.

"You're gonna wet yourself" is all Pedro can manage to say.

The (possible) double meaning makes his belly rumble.

"I know" you repeat, answering for both. And then get inside.

The water starts to make your clothes hug your body, and he's lost in the curves of your ass and tits. Your muscles, while albeit not worked out, are both soft and strong, plush skin inviting for a bite. You've got both the firm and the soft that comes with age and womanhood, and his cock is itching to have his invite to your warm walls.

"What are you waiting for? Are you going to bath with clothes on?"

He rolls his eyes. "Look who's talking"

The cold water hits him when you too have taken off your clothes.

Couldn't get challenged because your too stubborn ass fell right into the bait.

His breath gets caught in his throat as your soapy hands explore his body. His adam's apple bobs as he gulps, enthralled by your firm yet gentle scrubbing, washing away remnants of sweat and dirt. All words are lost at the devotion, worship and reverance that seems to pour from your digits as you sweep his body.

"How?" your voice drowns out with the drops of water.

"Bad move" he whispers, seeing it across his arm. It's runs across almost all of his inner bicep, big. It didn't heal as good as he'd liked, but chicks seemed to dig it. "Had to go to the hospital"

You, however, seem more into the... understanding side of it. Not on the thrill and the danger, but on the damage that's healed in time but never left. More on the pain, and not the punch.

"And this?"

"Gloves"

"What?"

"Gloves" he repeats, still not that loud, as if he's ashamed. "They can create cuts when the skin is pulled during a strike"

"I don't get it"

And instead of mocking you, Pedro finds himself trying to explain it.

"It's because of the friction of the gloves against the skin" he sighs. "Was too dumb and too full of myself to understand it. Then it happened and I got this"

"What has changed?" you tease him, but it's as tender as a lingering touch. "Don't worry, Pedro. Everyone makes mistakes, even the greats"

It's a rather sweet moment, only broken by your teeth sinking into the scarred tissue, yet you're quick to soothe it with a wet kiss.

He groans, head falling back as your greedy little hands now slide through the hard of his chest, his nipples perked under the cold of the water and the warm of your touch; body electric.

"Fuck, baby. You're going to be the death of me" he groans, shivering at your insistence on making him break. "Keep tryin', but you won't make me beg, muñeca" (doll)

Still hellbent on denying you of himself, the hotheaded stubborn prideful bastard. Not even with your tits in the air, bare cunt aching.

"No?" you feign innocence, batting those wet eyelashes of yours. Then your lips find his scars, licking and pressing sweet warm kisses across the expanse of his chest and body, ending on the one across his face. For a moment, he falters at the intensity of your gaze, almost slipping on the tiles. "Still no?"

You fucking minx. "Fighters don't beg" he says, but every contact of your lips and tongue against his wet body send bolts of electricity to his aching semi-hard cock.

"But real men do"

Without further ado, you descend until your knees hit the tiles, water running through your legs like a river. You don't wait for an answer, all you need to know in his parted lips and his deep stare at you through dark hooded eyes.

A low, guttural moan tears from Pedro's throat as your tongue flicks a quick lick at his sensitive head. He's grabbing your hair with rough hands, tangling into your damp curls, his hips jerking involuntarily as your lips wrap around the tip, tongue swirling and teasing the most sensitive parts.

"Fuck" he groans, "aren't you trouble, doll? Really gonna make me beg for that release, ain't you? With that tongue of yours"

You give another proud lick at his throbbing angry red flesh, head already leaking with precum.

"What'd your daddy think about his daughter sucking his best friend's cock in the showers?"

You ignore him, too busy lost in the way his cock throbs and pulses in your mouth, his balls tightening with a pressure that built more each passing second.

"Not a talker, huh? Were that loud mouth of yours go?" he teases, his grip not faltering on your hair. "That's what y'r daddy said. Or maybe he was talking of another daughter. Not this little obedient slut who devours my cock like she's starved" his voice is strained. "Such a good girl, though, taking care of an old man like this. You like how it tastes?"

You pull out, making him groan.

"Why'd stop?" his voice is strained, rough with desire. His pupils are blown wide, circling with desbelief and something more primal. But he'll never say that, will he?

Too bad for him, you don't know when to shut up. Or quit.

"I want to hear you say it"

He chuckles darkly, his grip on your hair tighter now. "What'd say?"

"Me? Nothing" your lips part, words slurring before you think better. "You is I wanna hear"

"Fucking cunt" his eyes darken, "think you can tease me and get away with it? No, you'll be a good little cocksleeve and take it all"

You moan at his lewd words, thighs clasping together in search for some relief for the pressure building on your bare cunt.

"That's right, you dirty cocksucker. Look at you, thinking you can bend a fucking champion like me"

He knew his power over you. Frankly, he had to thank your old man for fucking you up so bad. Pedro loved how all your resolute seemed to vanish in the air, looking so eager and willing, desperate to please him. Be it for praise or for how much you wanted this like him, but it is this what makes him feel like a true winner.

"Don't you wanna suck this dick so bad?" his thumb tugs down your lip, "Be a good girl and I might give it to you"

Just like that, you're done.

"Please, I want to be a good girl. Use me, fuck me with your mouth"

He lets out a growl, voice low and rough. "Oh, t's alright, muñeca. I'll use this dirty little mouth of yours, all right" he fists your hair again, pulling you closer. "Gonna fuck you so good, you'll be feeling me all week: every time you taste, swallow and speak. Fill your dirty mouth so good with so much cum, you'll be tasting it for hours, for days, 'n for the rest of your fucking life"

Pedro thrusts his hips forward, pushing more and more of his thick, hard cock past your lips. He sets a steady pace, eyes locked on your face as he fucks your mouth with deep strokes.

"Just like that" he praises, breaths sharp as he looses himself in how his girth is nestled in your mouth. "Take it all, like a good little girl. So show me, baby, show me how much you love the taste of my cock. How much you need it-- crave it"

Your moan gets lost in your constricted throat, struggling to take him deeper, breathing and swallowing almost impossible with his girth taking up all of the space inside of your mouth. If Pedro felt like a king before, now he feels like a god.

"Such a perfect little cock sleeve for me to use, to fill, to fuck" he groans, his hips picking up speed, thrusts growing harder and more urgent.

His orgasm starts building, and he knows it by the way his balls tighten and his cock pulses inside the heat of your throat. Pedro knows he's close to coming, that he's seconds away from it.

Even if he's lost completely in the act, he's foremost a gentleman, but when he's about to pull out, your hands grip tightly to this thighs, and hold him in place as he tries to move. A rush of lust washes him over the cold water, a dark desire coursing through him at your pathetic display of eagerness and desperation.

"Fuck, baby" Pedro's voice reduced to a low, guttural rumble as he gazes down at you. You swear you can see a brief glint of admiration on his eyes. "You want my cum that badly, muñeca? Do you want to swallow it all down like a good little slut?"

He's rocking his hips forward, burying himself balls-deep in your warm throat, his swollen cock pulsing and throbbing against your tonsils as his orgasm crashes over him. Pedro throws his head back as so do his eyes, body shuddering and convulsing as thick ropes of hot cum shoot from his cock.

"You're doin' great, baby" he pants, his grip on your hair tight as he grounds his hips against your face, pushing himself deep into your mouth as he physically could. "Show me what a good little cumslut you are and don't waste a fuckin' drop. Swallow it all"

Aren't you perfect? Gulping and swallowing, trying your best good girl shtick as you take everything he has to give you, his musky sweat filled scent up your nostrils, despite the soap still covering some of his body.

"Fuck, y/n" he groans, body going limp. He falls back against one of the shower's walls, chest up and down with uneven breaths. "Greedy little girl with a greedy little throat"

He slowly pulls out of your mouth, his softening cock slipping from your lips.

"Get up, baby. Your father's bill will be brutal if we don't hurry up" he hauls you up and into his arms. "But truth is, I'ont give a fuck. I'm still thinking 'bout your lips 'round my cock"

Before you say anything, he's dragging your body again like you weight nothing, but this time, it's to crush his hot desperate mouth into yours with a rough kiss. Pedro can taste himself mixed with your sweet and drool. He groans at that, the sound painfully animal.

"Hey" he gently tugs you, a mannerism you would never associate with him. "Where you think you're going?"

You blink once. Twice. Then again, slower.

"What are you talking about?"

Your back meets the wall, Pedro brutally slamming your body until the tiles dig into your skin.

"Ow- wait" you hiss, "the fuck's gotten into you?"

"Think I'll let you go after this?" he growls. Then, chuckles, darkly so. "No, baby. I gotta try first" his fingers grab the supple skin of your ass until you feel them melt into it. He then spanks it, creating a weird sound with the combined water droplets. "Need to see if the pussy is as sweet as your mouth. So be a good girl and let me handle this, alright? As I said, I still can"

And for a reason, that feels like a threat.

His calloused digits venture dangerously close to your entrance, fingers going in. He coats it with your slick, making him laugh that laugh uniquely his.

"Fuck, muñeca. You're as wet as this shower head" Pedro presses himself into you, his cock touching your stomach. "Don't ever try to lie to me again, I ain't no fool"

Traitorous body. But his seething voice, the way his dominance slithers into jolts through your slick folds. You whine, pressing your tighs together. Pedro's quick to see this, and before you get to say anything else, he parts them roughly.

"I said I ain't no fool" he grunts while rubbing the tip of his cock over your folds, applying pressure on your clit. "Bad girl"

No warning, just his cock slipping past your wet dripping folds. Your hands fly to reach his neck for support.

"S'fucking grabby" he teases, slipping his pulsating dick between your folds once more, pressing and then pushing in slowly.

He swallows your whimper in a kiss, your poor pussy stretching to accommodate his thick girth. His big hands pull your body closer to his.

"But I'm the grabby one"

He growls. "Quit talking"

With one brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, balls pressed against the flesh of your ass. You grip his hair, chocolate curls tangled between your fingers. He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. The pain carries waves of pleasure laced within, despite his aggressive thrusting and quick pace. You roll your hips upwards, eliciting a faint whimper out of your lips.

"No, doll" his fingers dig in your waist, a purple soon to follow. "You do what I say, clear?"

His cock grinds forward, stretching you out.

"Fuck-!" you choke out, "Pedro!"

He growls when he hears his name on your lips, an all consuming desire to make you his washing over him.

He then grabs you by your legs, hooking them around his waist.

You mewl out his name in a cry.

"See?" Pedro blurts out. "Told ya' I still had it on me, baby"

Your hands scramble to grab him by his shoulders, the pain and pleasure making your head spin. He can feel your tits jump with each bounce provoked by his thrusts, the rosy skin pressed against his chest.

"Gonna fill you up so bad, you won't ever doubt me again"

Pedro pulls back and uses his arms to push himself up and hover over you. He began to drive his hips faster, loud clapping noises mixing with the falling water.

"I'm- I'm gonna"

"Ask, baby. Remember what I told you?"

"Yes. Sorry, daddy" you whimper. "Please, let me-"

"Let you what?" Pedro chuckles.

"Cum. Let me cum. Please, daddy, please" the words slurred as you feel yourself on edge.

"Very well" grinning satisfied, "but don't you dare keep any of those pretty noises just for yourself"

A high-pitched wails falls past your lips as you throw your head and eyes back, your legs shaking.

"Pedro-!"

He grunts at the sensation of your juices on his cock, coating it. In the way your walls flutter around his length, pussy tight making him groan against your neck, where he has now buried his face.

"Stay there, baby. It's my turn" his hips snap and his thrusts turn sloppy. "Gonna paint all of your tight folds with my cum"

His grip tightens as he fucks himself silly into you, chasing his high.

"S'fucking tight" he groans loudly. "Such a good girl for me"

He comes undone, salty hot ropes of thick white cum spurting inside of you, his cock deeply nestled inside of your welcoming warm walls.

"Fuck. Need to fill you up, doll. Until you're so stuffed you can't move without making a mess"

The water keeps falling, as you whimper softly, burying your face in his neck. Pedro keeps rocking into you while riding his orgasm out, soft breathless groans leaving him. He places you down, some of his cum on your thighs. He uses his finger to push it all inside.

"We have been to wasteful to keep on being, right?" Pedro jokes before closing the valve.

"Be honest. You don't give a damn about the planet"

He lets out a hearty laugh.

"Guilty as charged"

There's some silence before he's helping you get back on your shorts.

(He smacks your ass, saying you did it on purpose. You agree. After all, he's quick to know when you lie)

"Good girl" he praises with a small kiss. "Did so well for me"

You kiss him back, fiercely, your mouth practically sucking his lips.

"For good luck, daddy"

Pedro chuckles at your antics. "You fucking minx"

He leaves you after that, going for his stuff. But you stand still in the middle, lost like a little deer. Your ragged breaths fill the room, and he feels a little guilty about having fucked his best friend's daughter on his gym before leaving first thing in the morning to his home country.

"C'mere" you turn your head. "What? C'mon, don't leave me hanging"

You carefully make way to where he is, back in the same bench.

"Sit" he orders.

Oh, the irony of it all.

Once you take place next to him, he makes sure to remove a strand of wet hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

"When I win, which I will" you chuckle at his ego, "I'll be sure to remember you, doll"

So when your dad sends you a video of Pedro's match in Chile a day later and The Viper winks to the camera, you like to think it's for you.

[81pastrys]

Lost at a Race

Summary— when Lando’s wife goes on a business trip, he has to bring his little girl to the paddock with him. However, when he got distracted she wondered off.

Warnings— none

A/N— I was inspired by someone else’s fic, if I find it I will be tagging the original!! I added a little Carbono too.

Lando didn’t like his wife’s idea of having his little girl at the paddock without her, but he had no choice. She was out for a business trip and he had free practices to do. When it came down to it he took his eyes off her for not even 10 seconds and she was gone.

“Where did she go?” He asked, slightly panicked. Hoping she just went to Oscar’s side of the garage. “I just had her next to me.” He went on. Oscar noticed his panicked teammate and trotted over.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, mate.” Oscar stated. Then it hit him, where’s little Norris? “Wait, where’s your daughter?” His eyes widened and they split up to look for the little girl.

The garage hadn’t noticed their drivers disappear, let alone scrambling around looking for a toddler. When they did, the drivers were already jogging from garage to garage asking for her. “She looks just like me? Did she come in here?” Lando asked a Ferrari member. A shake of their head was all he needed to move on.

“Little curly headed baby, looks like Lando?” Oscar asked a RedBull mechanic. The guy looked towards the pit lane and then back to Oscar. “I need an answer Lando’s going nuts right now.” He spat out quickly to show the urgency. The mechanic shrugged his shoulders with a no.

However in the Williams garage, Carlos was holding the little girl. Her favorite uncle. He was showing her around and explaining things. Alex had joined in, seeing how adorable she was and couldn’t resist. “She’s adorable, Lily would die seeing me with her.” He joked.

Carlos took a picture of the three of them and it was sent to their girlfriends along with Lando. Lando had made it to Haas before he got the message, severely panicked and shaken up by losing his little girl. He had called his wife at this point and had her freaking out from a different country. “Fucking wanker.” Lando mumbled seeing the text.

“What?! Did you find her?” His wife rambled on, still freaking out. “Lando!” She yelled. He sighed before slowly making his way to William’s. He motioned to Oscar, who was confused seeing as he had no little girl.

“She’s at William’s with Carlos, my love.” Lando said defeated. “He just sent me a picture of him and Alex holding her.” He explained. She went on yelling at him about responsibility, she was so loud he put his phone on speaker, then turned the volume down. “I love you, but I’m at Williams though so I have to go get her.” He said tired of her nonsensical yelling.

“She’s not very happy.” Oscar mentioned walking to McLaren, leaving Lando at Williams hospitality. The Williams workers looked confused as Lando walked in like it was his team. His anxiety from his little girl missing was smashed by seeing her giggling in her uncles arms.

“Dada!!” She squeaked seeing him approaching. Carlos relinquished the baby to her father with a chuckle. “Uncle los!” She pointed to Carlos.

“Yeah?” Lando said with a smile. “I see uncle Carlos, sweetheart.” He nodded and she hugged his neck. “Please don’t ever do that again.” He whispered to himself sighing with relief to have her tiny arms wrapped around his neck.

“She’s a pleasure to have around.” Alex joined. Not understanding how the little girl even got into Carlos’s possession. “Why do you look so pale?” He asked Lando, who gave him a seriously mean look. Alex recoiled and walked off.

“Cabron, be glad she found me.” Carlos joked. “Liam would throw a tantrum if she found Max.” He stated, which was true. Liam wasn’t fond of anyone other than redbull employees strolling on in to their garage.

“I know, but she nearly gave me a heart attack.” Lando mentioned. He walked back to his garage and held her the rest of the evening until he had to get in the car. “If you lose her you’re dead meat.” He warned his trainer.

“Like you did?” Jon joked. The death stare he got was not worth it. Jon, in fact, did not lose the little girl. He sat in Lando’s driver room with her while they watched free practice.

Lost - Carlos pov

Carlos had went to Ferrari to wish Charles and Lewis luck during the practice. On his way back to Williams he spotted a little head with curls. He stopped and crouched down. “Los!” She squealed. Of course, McLaren and Ferrari were right next to each other. “Dada’s in there.” She explained in toddler babble. She was right near the exit of McLaren, how she got through the maze of an exit he’ll never know.

“Is he sobrina?” He asked. He picked the little girl up and went on his way to the Williams garage. He didn’t think it was too big of a deal. He showed her his helmet and Alex’s side of the garage. “This is Alex, sobrina.” He explained seeing Alex light up.

“Why hello!” He greeted her with a smile. “Sobrina? Is that her name?” He asked. The little girl giggled as Alex tickled her.

“No, it means niece in Spanish. This is Lando’s daughter.” Carlos explained. Alex had shown her his helmet and then they went on to take a picture and sent it to Lando and their girlfriends.

A few minutes later Lando was in his garage. “She nearly gave me a heart attack!” Lando explained. The little girl was returned unharmed.

Notes: ‘cabron’ means multiple things apparently, but it is used casually like dude in this fic 😳. ‘Sobrina’ means niece as Carlos mentions.

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny had promised the movie was kid-friendly but also said the previous movie "Her Melody" was technically kid-friendly too. So the better question was if it was emotion-friendly because this family was full of sensitive people.

"It's based on my puppy Cujo." Danny said holding up the movie case called "Echo & Ash"

It was hard to say no to Danny. He looked hopeful and sad. So movie night would happen.

Damian was not giving a proper memo. Last time Danny brought a movie Damian slept in Dick's room and everyone was super clingy. It was....new. Not a bad feeling but it was pathetic how a single film did this. It was actually Alfred's favorite as well.

***

Movie: "It's your new friend Eddy. She's a girl so give her a good name." "She barks everytime I talk so her names going to be Echo." "That's a wonderful name"

The movie started with a feel-good story of a boy named Everest and his first pet. A puppy named Echo. Echo followed him everywhere and loved running in the woods with Everest. The family sighed collectively that nothing sad had happened.

But this was a Danny movie so emotional trauma will be had.

One clear day the two were playing when the camera suddenly shifted to the woods. Nothing could be seen other than trees. The camera shifted like it was being held by someone and you realize. The threat isn't out there...there was someone there and they are currently holding a camera as they watch the boy.

Uncertainty builds as Echo suddenly stops. Her ears stand at attention as she zeros in on the camera, her eyes laser-focused.

Then she begins pulling Everest away. She makes him chase her out of the woods. But the camera stays stationary and not moving to follow.

The scene lingers a little too long before the view shifts upwards and in another direction as heavy footsteps follow.

Stephanie: Oh god, I hated that.

Barbara: I don't think I remembered to breathe.

Movie: One afternoon as Everest walks home alone after running from a group of bullies a car races down the road. As the car rears closer a series of barks rang out. Echo chased the car like a mad dog. Everest felt a shove on his side as the dog's body pushed him aside.

There was sharp bark, a thud, and a whimper.

Then the scene shifts to a vet office. There is no sound other than a soft piano. Everest cries with Echo in his arms as a vet kneels next to him, probably explaining what's going to happen. Echo pants heavily before she slowly stops and closes his eyes. Then she is gone.

Damian: *bitting his lip and trying to hold back emotions* Nightingale...What. Is. This.

Danny:*smiles gently and shrugs*

Damian: Daniel! No!

Danny: It'll be okay.

Bruce: It's okay Damian. Come sit next to me.

Movie: Echo wondered around the endless woods for what felt like forever until a voice called put.

"Hey, puppy! What are you doing here?" The boy asked.

Echo sniffed around searching.

"You looking for someone?"

Echo whimpered as she turned in every direction searching for her family.

Duke: Ah, nooo. She's so cute.

Movie: "Well, I'm Ash."

Echo sniffs the boy briefly before turning to keep looking elsewhere.

Echo wondered for a long time. Night and day passed but she wasn't getting tired or hungry.

"Only other spirits pass through here. No one stays like you do. Did you come to keep me company?"

The boy was very talkative but Echo didn't seem to mind. Slowly she warmed up to him and spent time playing with him. Her ghost friend was happy to have her.

But she would still think about her family.

In the real world, Everest couldn't stop thinking about Echo. He was all alone now.

"She probably hated me."

But he didn't feel like she was gone. Sometimes he felt a brush against his leg or strangely a push on the swing. A ball rolling on the ground towards them alerted him one afternoon. He had been hiding in the backyard again from the neighborhood boys when he felt it.

"Echo?"

The wind blew against his face and somehow he knew for sure she wasn't alone.

Damian: Daniel, tell me now that they see each other.

Dick: Damian, be nice. Just watch the movie.

Movie: "Is that your friend doggy? That human?" *bark* "Why is he crying like that?"

Ash hovered near the boy making a cold wind brush past.

"Hey, you shouldn't cry. Your dog is right here. She's been badgering me to help her visit so the least you can do I put on a smile." Ash said. "Come on! Get up!"

Evening he couldn't see Everest heard something in the back of his mind. He knew he wasn't alone.

Dick: He kind of reminds me of Jason.

Jason: What's that supposed to mean?

Dick: nothing bad...not good either.

Movie: Over time Everest learned to see and not just hear the spirits. Playing with them after school. He was able to run with Echo again and have a friend like Ash. Ash also played tricks on his bullies.

However, Ash would always look over his shoulder, and when it got late Ash said it was time to go.

"Can't you just stay a little longer? The sun still up." Everest complained.

"But it's still winter. It'll be gone in minutes. Besides we can't stay on this side for long. We have to go." Ash's eyes didn't leave the horizon as he scanned it.

Duke: Calling it now. Ash died after the sun went down.

Stephanie: No shit, Sherlock.

Bruce: Language.

Movie: "Ash? I've been wondering. How did you die?"

Echo whined pawing at Ash.

"Don't worry Echo it's fine. I don't remember. Most ghost I've met do but I don't really know."

"The other ghosts?"

"Yeah, they come over from the other side sometimes to visit but they have to go back. They are all older so they take care of me. I can't go there with them though."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. They said that I couldn't move on until I get what I needed and let go. But I don't know what that is. I'm scared though, of leaving the woods."

"Oh...is these something you want now?"

"I wanted a friend and then Echo showed up and now I can visit you. So I think I'm happy now."

Barbara: Am I insane or does Ash look like a slightly younger Phantom.

Cassie: (in sign) I thought so too. But I'm not sure. That guy rarely shows up.

Movie: "It's dark! You need to leave! Hurry!"

"Not until you tell me the truth! You're hiding something! You've been hanging around looking for something! You won't tell me anything! Then when I found that burnt-up shack you yelled at me to leave and not come back! I thought you were my friend!" Everest screamed at the ghost.

"Ever, please! Go home! It's not safe here." Ash pleaded with tears in his eyes.

But it was too late. That monster came. The same one from Everest's nightmares. The visions he had gotten after seeing Ash. Instead of just a black shadow, it was a man.

Bruce: *takes a sharp breath*

Jason: No. God damn it. Don't do this.

Tim: Danny. Tell me this isn't-

Danny: *holds Tim's hand* It'll be okay.

Movie: The man who lurked in the shadows had waited look enough. He had always been there in those woods just out of frame watching and hidden in the tree line. You couldn't see him but you felt him every time the camera panned around the woods. The barren leafless trees giving the illusion of safety since you could see more than in the summer and the noisy leaf litter on the ground would warn you. But not when it was dark and certainly not now that the noisy dog wasn't around.

Everest had forgotten that even with ghosts he was still alone.

Everest was taken to that shack deep in the woods as Ash screamed unheard to the ears of the living and knowing very well what would happen next.

But spirits like Ash can't say after nightfall. Not when they feared the dark. But Ash persisted, fading but still hanging on. His ghost form flickering like a flame. Echo was dead but her mission and life were the same in death. She would protect her boy.

The ghost dog sprinted into the night back to her old home. She bumped into anything she could to cause a ruckus and catch the adults' attention. Knocking over family photos until they noticed Everest wasn't home. Making the worry enough to look for him.

All the while a pyre was built for another soul.

Damian: Come on...

Movie: The climax rushed by as the fire burnt and a search party was launched. But when it was over all the sound stopped and a body was zipped into a bag. A family held eachother and cried. A serial child killer was put in handcuffs.

The worst part was how believable it was. Even Ina story of talking to ghosts and pranks the reality of these cases still exist.

But there are small blessings. As Ash cried in the dark a pair of arms wrapped around him and a wet nose pressed against his cheek. His two best friends were here and they all felt ready. It was time to see the other side now that they were together and not alone.

Dick: I am..not okay.

Barbra: I hate that I actually enjoyed that.

Bruce: *brooding*

Damian: I'm going to bed.(he didn't and went to check on his pets)

Jason: ...

Tim: I trusted you.

Danny: But it's a beautiful ending.

Tim: Okay yes but...still sad. They died!

Danny: But they are together. That's a happy ended. Not the happiest but it's not the end for them. Death is just a new chapter not a bad one.

Tim: You optimism scares me and it is unneeded in this family.

Danny: I'm family now~

Tim: You're mine at least.

A continuation of this

Danny: I got another movie for us!

Tim: Danny, I love you so much...but I can't take another sad movie.

Danny: But it's really good and it has a good ending.

Tim: Really?

Danny: It's about a boy and his dog. You see his dog dies-

Tim: Danny no.

Danny: Let me finish! The dog dies but meets another boy who's a ghost on the other side. It beautiful story about a dog who goes back and forth to keep his friend safe. The two boys become friends and unravel the truth behind the ghost boy's death. Come on Tim...I worked hard on this one.

Tim: Fine, but only if I can sucker everyone else to watch it with us.

(Danny doesn't consider death to be a sad part of a movie or a bad ending.)

[kissylec]

TO THE PLACES WE'VE BEEN AND THE NIGHTS WE'VE HAD.

directed by love you goodbye...

pairing . . . rafe cameon x pogue!reader in which . . . the bonfire always has surprises, but you never thought that one of those surprises would be ending up in tannyhill with the kook prince warning .ᐟ . . . (18+) smut, alcohol consumption, curse words, enemies to lovers, tension, dirty talk, praise kink, making out, oral (f), unprotected sex (wrap it up), p in v, first time writing smut and english is not my first language, so please, bear with me w count . . . 1.5k (NO PROOFREAD) kissylec says . . . write this in 3 days and i dont really know if i like it or not. my frist time writing smut! im tweaking! thanks to @rafesheaven for the tips you gave me, i hope this is okay i love u. and thanks to @rafeysbabydoll for the idea of this first extra! i also love u. hope you guys like this 😭

masterlist .ᐟ 𝜗𝜚 navigation .ᐟ

YOU WERE DOING THIS FOR JJ, and you repeated that to yourself over and over again. the bonfire was the last thing on your mind after the day you'd had, having to put on makeup and get dressed made your head hurt and your feet felt tired just walking to the vanity. but everything went to shit in a short time, which you expected, but at least you had that slight glimmer of hope that it won't happen.

it all started when topper – because of course it was topper – started bothering sarah. your and your friends' irritation was instantly aired, creating a tense atmosphere that was not lost on anyone. and between john b complaining, jj trying to fight, and kiara trying to calm down everyone who came near, you couldn't take it anymore.

the overstimulation ate away at you to the point that you left without warning, a habit that was ingrained in you. the sound of voices grew farther away with each step you took, and the cold and salty breeze became more and more present. that's when you thought about the beach, and that maybe it would be a good idea to stop by there.

the sand on your feet felt colder than usual and the wind was a caress on your exposed skin. you took long, deep breaths, making circles in the palm of your left hand as you tried to maintain a calm that you were afraid would slip away. the sound of the sea was in the background, and a relaxation alien to you had found you. until.

you okay?

the thick, familiar voice startles you, causing you to bring a hand to your chest and open your eyes, your gaze traveling to the direction the voice came from.

rafe cameron.

"you scared the shit outta me," you say, your gaze traveling all over rafe's body. a bottle of alcohol in his hand, his brow furrowed. His curtain bangs were gone, replaced by a neat buzz cut, which made him look more... mature, older.

rafe continues to scowl, looking away from you. "yeah well, it's creepier when a girl stands next to you and closes her eyes and all that shit you were doing just now." his lips take a sip from what appears to be a bottle of whiskey, his eyes fixed on the water.

you just rolled your eyes, mimicking his action of looking away. you never gave rafe much importance, but your annoyance for him was no small thing. he was nothing sacred among pogues, as if his name were a curse. "i may be creepy but you're sad" you started saying. "drinking by yourself on the beach? not really a very fun activity."

rafe takes another long sip from the bottle, his muscles flexing as he raises his arm. “shouldn’t you be there?” he asks, still not looking at you.

rafe knew about you, not much, but he knew enough. he always insisted that you stood out from any friend sarah might have had, you were not overlooked, you always left a mark. you had that something that takes a person a while to figure out. you were different, and it sounds corny and repetitive, but you were, and rafe liked that.

for a split second you considered telling him why you left the bonfire, but you didn't. "i got bored," you said simply, feeling rafe turn his head and his eyes burn into your cheek. "what's your excuse?"

rafe swore his heart stopped for a second when you turned your head to make your first eye contact of the night, his lips felt dry but he didn't have the balls to lick them in front of you.

he just shrugged. "i don't want to be there" he says.

you slowly nod your head, your eyes locked on rafe's blue ones, who didn't seem to want to take his eyes off you. the sound of clothes rustling and him handing you the bottle of whiskey caught your attention, raising your eyebrows.

parting your lips you take the bottle, the contact with rafe’s fingers leaving a rough feeling on your skin. still looking into his eyes, you took an unexpectedly long sip, your throat burning instantly, making you grimace in disgust and drop the bottle. he couldn’t help but laugh.

“what was that?” he asks, following with his gaze as you spit the amber liquid into the sand.

“that shit is disgusting” you say, wiping your chin, which had dropped drops of the drink.

you shake your head, your eyes falling on his face. you allow yourself to analyze the small details, how his eyes close when he smiles, the occasional mark on his skin, his hand wrapped around most of the bottle as soon as you handed it back to him.

rafe parts his lips, you could see his eyes drop to his lap, as if he was hesitant. “i have more bottles in tannyhill, of… other things,” he says, hesitantly. "if you want."

your eyes widened, letting out a laugh you couldn’t control. “are you serious?” you said, your smile taken as mockery by rafe.

rafe frowns, his gaze going to you, making you erase your smile. a tension began to be felt between you two, that tension which anyone who was there could feel, that tension that makes your stomach hurt and your heart race.

"did you really just ask me what you just ask me?" you asked, your eyebrows raising as you looked at him.

“what’s wrong with what i said?” rafe asks, his tone of voice harsher than he intended.

you frown, careful not to fumble with your words. “no, absolutely not.”

“why not?"

“because it’s you,” you simply reply, looking at him. “and i would never do anything with you.”

your words seemed to trigger something in rafe, who raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, as if he were studying you. you felt your pulse quicken, his jaw suddenly looked attractive, and his challenging eyes made your lower stomach feel warm.

"never, huh?"

those were the last words you could remember coming out of his mouth, because all you were focused right now, was him. on his tongue expertly moving between your wet folds, on how he flicked it against your clit. his fingers gripped your thighs to keep you from moving, the pressure was so strong that you knew there would be marks, but you didn't care.

you had tears starting to form at the corners of your eyes, your o-shaped lips letting out moan after moan, babbling every now and then as you felt his tongue fucking you as if it were the only thing he was useful for.

"prettiest cunt" he grunts against your center, placing open-mouthed kisses over your clit.

"fuck–rafe" was the only thing that could come out of your mouth.

you start to rub your pussy against him when you feel close, that delicious pressure in your pelvis growing as does the burning in your clit, your moans turning into soft cries, desperate to cum, and rafe notices it, but that wasn't going to happen.

his mouth leaving you, automatically going to the level of your face. his lips, chin and nose glistening with your arousal, his pupils dilated with pleasure, his breathing accelerated, all so sexy that you could have cum just from him.

before you could even protest he crashed your lips against his, moaning as you tasted yourself. your tongues danced deliciously, making everything more disgusting.

"wan' you to cum on my cock" rafe manages to say between kisses, and you never wondered when he took off his pants, but he did. "you're capable of doing that? huh?"

he wrapped his hand around his heavy cock, pumping it slowly, guiding his tip to your puffy and achy clit, teasing it, coating his length with your slick. "fuck–could you be any more fucking wet?"

the tip traveled to your center, gasping as it entered inch by inch to the brim, forcing you to take him all. your eyes rolled back in your head, feeling his cock caress your insides. you could swear you felt him kiss your cervix.

"so tight, all f'me, isn't that right?" rafe purrs against your ear, his hips moving almost instantly after filling you.

your brain blanked out, letting him handle you as he pleased, your legs on his shoulders as his pace quickened. “rafe,” you stammered, your eyes squeezing shut.

"grippin' me so tight, you gonna cum?" rafe murmurs condescendingly. "this sweet pussy gonna cum? huh?"

it was ridiculous, almost pathetic, but his words and the way your sweet spot was hit over and over again had you cumming on his cock, your back arching and a small cry came out. rafe groans, his face hiding in your neck, his cock twitching and painting your insides with his cum.

you felt kisses on your neck, the thrusts fading in rhythm, his hands caressing your sides. your eyes slowly opened, your lips dry as the light from the nightstand made its presence felt beside you.

then, and just then, it clicked.

"we can't do this again" was the first thing that left your lips.

but rafe had already taken you over. and there was no escape from that.

taglist . . . @lil-sparklqueen @pillowprincess4him @ihydeja @drewstarkeyslover @angelicameron @stylestarkey @frankoceanluvr11 @thepopcultureaddict @luvrclub @wtfisastiles @faephoria @maybankslover @yktayy9669 @bucksbvck @bee-43 @drewrry @harryzcherry @bsenpai @dreamybabbyy @ggyuslovie @magicalflowerstranger @wintercrows @rafeysbabydoll @starsval @maddiebaddie1 @mrsdrewstarkeyy @giouvarlakia @jjmaybankmylovee @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not @sleepiibunniiii @lolasangelz @bananaminn @glitterandviolence13 @scream4mami @delayeddrabbles @niaunffical @ijustwanttoreadlols @ethanthequeefqueen @emmiesummers @arianagreenblattfanxx10 @vanessa-rafesgirl @kaiparkerwifes @enchante-starkey @drewsdirtyslut @hannieskzzz @dontknow3m @rafesdrew

© KISSYLEC. 2025 — please do not plagiarize, repost, translate or claim any of my work as your own.

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

Everybody’s on the Call Line (Jason todd x gn!reader)

Humor, fluff, established relationship. whole batfam gets involved. Reader is a hacker

This happened because I read the latest coffee shop au from @jjenthusee (and you should too!) and I remembered that I can also write cute fluff. So here this fic is, straight from my drafts where it’s been languishing for months. Anyway.

Swearing, as always. No use of y/n. I don’t know how long this is

———

Jason eases himself carefully onto the fire escape, metal creaking beneath his boots. He stifles a groan. He’s taking a risk sneaking into your apartment like this, he knows he is. If you wake up and see Red Hood snooping around outside your window, you’ll probably call the cops. But he’s tired as all hell, patrol was long and stupid, and your apartment was closer. Jason will just slide in while you’re sleeping, stow his gear where you won’t find it, and collapse into your bed. In the morning, he’ll just say he let himself in with the spare key you gave him. Easy. All he has to do is disable the window alarm he’d gotten for you, and then he’s home free.

The alarm trips, and Jason moves to silence it but then realized it doesn’t matter, you’re still up, working at your computer.

He freezes as you glance over your shoulder, then turn around to face him. He still has his gear on. Shit.

“Uh, hi,” you offer, looking at him with a curious glance as he races to figure out an excuse. “I don’t think we’ve met before?”

This throws him for a loop. You’re reacting very well to a vigilante crawling through your window at 2:30 in the fucking morning. But you’ve given him an opening, and he’s going to take it.

“No,” he says shortly, wincing behind the helmet. He’s never spoken to you like this and instantly hates the tone he’s using, but he’s got a persona to keep up. Or something.

You nod, seemingly unfazed. “No worries. Do you work with Red Robin?”

What? Why are you asking about Tim? Do you have some secret Red Robin crush that he’s going to have to push Tim off a building for?

Dumbfounded, Jason answers, “Uh, sometimes?”

You nod again. “Do you think you could give something to him for me?”

What the shit is happening right now?

As if to help tip Jason’s world off its axis, you’re interrupted by a tap at the window. Jason looks to see Red Robin crouched on your fire escape. You wave him inside.

“Hey, Escher,” Tim says. “Hood.” Jason has no idea what the fuck is going on.

“I’ve got the script,” you say, holding out a flash drive to him, but Tim shakes his head. “No good. They updated the security.”

“Well, shit.” You turn and dump the USB stick into a glass of water on your desk. “It’s a paperweight now. Only took me five hours to figure out.”

“I know,” Tim says, clearly frustrated. “They keep outmaneuvering us.”

Wait, wait. Jason’s still three steps behind you. “Escher?” he demands.

Both you and Tim turn to look at him, frowning. “Like, M.C. Escher? But, spelled ‘emcee,’” you say, as if that explains anything. “It’s my screen name.”

“You two know each other?”

“Yeah, we work together.” Tim raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t know that?”

Jason shakes his head, and Tim looks at you for a flash of a moment before turning back to Jason. “Sorry,” he mouths, shrugging. Jason waves him off. He’ll deal with that later.

Tim turns back to your computer screen, but your eyes stay on Jason, narrowing. “What does it matter if we work together? Do I know you from somewhere?”

Shit. You were always too sharp for your own good. Jason’s tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth. “Uhh…”

You fold your arms over your chest. Behind you, out of your field of vision, Tim grins at Jason, delighted. Asshole.

“We don’t normally work with civilians,” Jason says, fishing for an excuse.

You sniff, rolling your eyes. “And yet, here you are. Which, the way, you haven’t explained. What are you doing in my bedroom?”

Fair. What is he doing in your bedroom? Would it freak you out if he said he was a burglar? Too late for that now.

“I told him to meet me here,” Tim says, pulling Jason’s ass out of the fire. “Sorry I didn’t tell you first.”

You shrug. “S’okay,” you say, spinning back around in your desk chair to face the screen.

Over your shoulder, Tim mouths, “you owe me.” Jason gives him the finger.

“Do you have a safe copy of the new security system?” you ask, looking at Tim intently.

He shakes his head. “Not yet, Oracle is working on duplicating it.”

You slump down in your chair. “Drat. I hate waiting.”

“Yeah,” Tim sits on the floor next to your bed, knees to his chest. “She said it’d be ready in a few hours.”

“Balls.” You fidget with a pen on your desk.

“Hold on. How did you start working with Red over here?” Jason asks. He knows you work in tech, that you’re a programmer, but he didn’t realize you were building code for fucking Batman.

Tim laughs. “I found them solving random problems on a Swedish forum.”

Jason blinks. Okay.

“Well, yeah. You found me there. Oracle found me hacking your comm links,” you grin, pleased with yourself.

Holy shit. “You got into the comm links?”

“Yeah,” you nod, satisfied. “I’ve done it twice now,” you add smugly.

“Don’t tell B,” Tim warns. “He doesn’t know. Oracle said she wouldn’t tell.”

Wow. You must be the real deal. He wonders if he can get you to fuck with Bruce’s plans, just to be a shit. "How long have you been working for the Caped Crusader, then?"

"I don't work for Batman," you say primly, as Tim sighs. "I help him out when you guys can't get your shit together."

Jason snickers under his breath. "Sore subject, huh?"

"They don’t like B," Tim confirms from the floor. "If you did it would make everything easier," he grumbles.

"It's stupid," you insist. "Come on, how is this a viable solution to any long-term problem?"

Jason laughs outright as Tim sputters. "He's a detective! He detects!"

"Then why does he have to dress up like that?" you point out. “You can be a detective in normal clothes, you know.”

"He needs armor, he keeps getting shot at!"

"Explain the cape, then," you shoot back. "Justify that monstrosity."

"It's fucking idiotic," Jason adds, piling on gleefully. "It'd be different if he could fly, but he just hops around."

Tim gasps, affronted, while you crack up in your chair. "Thank you. I mean, look at yourself, Red. You're sitting on my bedroom floor in a goddamn cape."

"It looks cool," Tim says defensively.

"No," you counter, "that looks cool." You point your finger in Jason's direction, and he feels his face heat up.

"Oh, come on," Tim scoffs. "You think his costume is cool?"

"Uh, yeah," you say, eyes taking Jason in as you nod. "Very cool. Very hot."

"Oh my god," Tim mutters. "It's tactically stupid. Why are his forearms exposed?"

"So I can see how muscley they are." You stare at them, eyes wide. Jason coughs awkwardly, and your eyes flit back up. "Sorry," you say, not sounding sorry at all. "I like leather."

"Of course you like his costume," Tim mutters under his breath.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you shoot at him, and Tim flusters. "Why do you care if I don't like your costume?"

"Yeah," Jason adds, letting some menace fall into his voice. "Why do you care if they don’t like your costume?"

"I didn't—I wasn't trying to—"

"I have a boyfriend," you interrupt, looking at Tim scornfully.

"They have a boyfriend," Jason parrots, grinning behind the helmet.

"Oh my god. I know you have a boyfriend. Relax," Tim pacifies you. "Relax," he adds, nodding at Jason. Jason grunts.

Before you can argue further, there’s another tap at your window, and Cass slips softly into the room. You light up. “Hello, my love!” you greet her excitedly. Cass raps you on the top of your head, and you beam up at her. Your hands twitch toward her before you stop yourself, folding them in your lap. Cass turns to Jason, placing her hand carefully on his arm. He bumps against her, waiting until she pushes back lightly. She then moves onto Tim, tugging gently on a lock of his hair, before depositing a flash drive on the desk. You snatch it up eagerly.

From Oracle, Cass signs.

“It’s O’s duplicate!” Tim plucks it from your fingers, driving it into your desktop.

“Be nice to her,” you warn, running a hand over your computer as the file loads. Strings of code write themselves across your screen. Jason moves forward to get a better look at you. He can’t help it, he wants to see you in action. Your face is scrunched up, tongue between your teeth as your eyes flash back and forth, following the cursor. “It’s incomplete.” You squint at Tim. “What gives?”

Tim tsks. “I don’t know. Let me get Oracle.” He puts a hand to his ear. “Oracle, come in.”

Barbara’s voice answers in Jason’s ear. “Here. I know, I know, it’s not all there,” she says, annoyed. “Let Escher know that I had to reverse engineer it from what we found.”

“She says she has to reverse engineer it,” Tim repeats.

You drum your fingers on the desk. “Okay, what else does she know?”

“What else do you—”

“Hold on, this is stupid,” you interrupt. “Can you, like, put her on speaker? Actually,” you click over to another screen, enter a command. “You’re broadcasting live, O.” Jason hears Barbara’s sigh through the speakers of your computer. “That’s three times,” you add smugly.

Jason let’s out a low whistle. Damn. You’re really good at this.

“We've got to stop meeting like this, Escher.” Barbara almost sounds amused. “How did you get in this time?”

“Hiya, babe.” You click back to your project. “That’s for me to know and you to never find out. I don’t want you closing your back door.”

Barbara chuckles. “Red and I will shut you out.”

“But for how long? I’m too slippery, baby.” Jason almost blushes underneath his helmet. It always trips him up when you talk like this.

“I had to reverse engineer the code from what it spit out when I tried to get in this time,” Barbara explains. “Can you fill in the gaps?”

“Some of them.” You type quickly, deleting code as you get error messages and retyping just as fast.

“Wait, here…” Tim points to something on the screen.

“Yeah, okay,” you back up to where he’s pointing and add something.

“There’s something about the updated security,” Barbara adds. “I think there’s a pattern somewhere.”

“Where?” you demand.

“I don’t know. Gut feeling. But I think I’m right.”

“Do you think there’s something generating new code?” Tim asks. “Like, a program that’s spitting out new security?”

“Oh.” Your fingers still on the keys, face relaxing. “Yeah. Good call, Red.” You scan the code again, scrolling back to the top. “Okay. This changes things.” You start from the beginning, erasing whole sections of Barbara’s work and typing out new code. “Well, shit,” you laugh under your breath. “This is some sexy-ass code we’re looking at.”

“You can fill in the blanks?” Jason asks.

You glance up at him. “Of course I can. I wrote it.”

“What?” Tim shouts. “This is you?”

“It’s me,” you confirm. “Guilty.” A small smile plays around your lips. “Sorry.” Cass steps forward, pinching your ear until you yelp.

“Fuck, Escher.” Tim rubs the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t know you were a traitor.”

“Chill, bird brain,” you say defensively, leaning out of Cass’ reach. “This was from, like, five years ago. I needed some cash.”

“You could be on B’s payroll,” Tim offers.

You snort as Barbara huffs a laugh over the comm line. “Fat chance, I’ve been trying to convince them for months.”

“I’m not a fucking lapdog. I play by my own rules,” you insist.

“Yeah?” Jason can’t help but push you. “And what rules are those?”

You cock an eye at him warily. “The rule of not tying my kite to some lunatic.”

Jason nods. Can’t argue with that one.

“Anyway,” you turn back to the computer. “Because I wrote it, I can build you the malware.”

“To get past the security or to neutralize the program spitting out new code?” Barbara asks over the line.

“Dealer’s choice,” you say, then stick your tongue between your teeth as you squint at the screen. “I can make both happen.”

The comm crackles in Jason’s ear. “Oracle, come in,” Bruce barks.

Tim whips his head toward you with a crack. “Nothing from you now, Escher,” Barbara warns. “I’m patching him through.”

You grin, eagerly pretending to zip your lips.

“Here,” Barbara answers.

“I heard from one of my informants,” Bruce’s monotone growl fills the room. Jason catches you roll your eyes and almost bursts out laughing. “They’re going to get into the controls for Blackgate prison.”

“This is Black Mask?” Barbara clarifies.

Bruce grunts as your eyebrows shoot up. “This is Black Mask?” you whisper, except you’ve never been very good at whispering. Tim slices a hand over his neck to silence you as Jason moves to your computer. He’s been eyeing the program you’re using to broadcast the comm connection, and he thinks he’s found the mute button. He taps a key and then turns his head toward you. “Off?”

You nod. “Off. Thanks. This is Black Mask’s security?”

“Yeah, he’s making a move against the jail. He’s going to get some of his guys out,” Tim explains.

“Hmm. Hmm hmm hmm.” You tap your fingers against your chin.

“What?” Tim folds his arms over his chest.

“I originally sold it to the Falcones.” You flick your hair out of your face. “Guess they sold me out behind my back.”

A security program that’s making its way through the mob? That’s…really useful, actually.

“Can you get in and stop them?” Bruce asks.

“Maybe,” Oracle hedges. “Hold on, I have to call in reinforcements.” She mutes Bruce’s line. “Escher, you’re up.”

“Wait, you want it now?” you say, aghast. “Christ, how long do I have?”

“Act quickly.” Bruce orders. “My intel says they’re moving at 3:45am.”

Your eyes fly to the clock on your monitor. “What the fuck!” you screech. “That’s in forty minutes! I can’t do it in forty minutes! I have to break through my own walls!”

“Escher,” Barbara starts, just as Tim says “listen, you have to—”

“I can’t, it’s not enough time!” you wail.

“Hey, hey,” Jason cuts in. “Easy. Don’t worry, love. You can do it.”

You look at him fearfully. “You haven’t even told me what to do!”

“Just get past the security,” Jason says patiently. “Don’t worry about shutting down the whole program.”

You nod at him, eyes wide.

“Deep breaths, now,” he instructs. “Come on, in for two, hold, out for four. We’ll do it together. Ready?”

You nod again.

“Okay.” Jason sucks in a breath, loudly so it’ll register over the modulator. You copy him, inhaling, holding, and exhaling on his rhythm. After a few breaths you shake your head, turning back to the computer.

“Alright. I can make it happen.” You resume typing, eyes narrowed as you focus.

“We’re alright, B, I’ve got someone on it,” Oracle says, satisfied.

Tim turns to Jason, clearly impressed. Jason shrugs. You’ve been together for a while now, he knows how to pull you out of a spiral.

He turns back to you. You’re ripping through code at a hundred miles an hour, hunched over the keyboard. Jason grimaces, he’s always trying to get you to sit up straight to help your tech neck. He’ll have to rub out the knots in your shoulders later.

Jason feels Cass’ eyes on him, and he tilts his head toward her. Less than forty minutes, she signs to him. I’ll have to take it back to the Clocktower.

Jason’s thought of that. He evenly points his chin in your direction. You can handle it, he knows you can. Cass nods.

Tim coughs quietly, and Jason raises his head to look at him. “You want the keys to the castle?” he mutters.

He means code you built that generates new security programs. Jason nods. “But that’s just between us, yeah?” It would be loads easier for Jason if he keeps the code out of Bruce’s hands. Black Mask has been operating in Jason’s territory, and Jason has a long string of investigations against him, well-beyond the scope of this Blackgate shit. Bruce needs to keep his nose out of it.

Tim scoffs. “Fine. Seems like you should get first dibs anyway.” He nods towards your desk where you’re still working stubbornly.

The room is silent, all three of them letting you work. After a few minutes, Tim steps toward you. “Here, you need any hel—”

Jason throws an arm out to stop him, just as Cass grabs his wrist and tugs him backwards, shaking her head. He holds up his hands in surrender.

Fifteen minutes later, you rap your knuckles on your desk. “Oi, peanut gallery!” You spin around in your chair, smiling wickedly. “I solved your case for you!”

“It’s not a case,” Tim mutters, and Jason scoffs.

“Don’t be jealous, RR,” Babs says over the line. “You can both be the prettiest.” Tim splutters as you laugh delightedly.

“Nice job,” Jason says, placing a hand on your shoulder. You grin up at him. He catches Cass and Tim share a look, sees her sign something too fast for his eyes to follow.

“Batgirl’s bringing it to you now, Oracle,” Tim says as you unplug the flash drive and hand it to Cass. You wave to her as she slips through the window.

“My backup came through,” Babs reports to Bruce. “They’ll be obsolete in a few minutes.”

“Copy.” The line fizzles as Babs cuts him off.

“Fuck yeah,” you grin in satisfaction. “Nothing like hearing that overgrown Bat say ‘copy.’”

Jason cackles as Tim rolls his eyes. “Oracle,” he says loudly. “Hood was in the dark about our friend here.” His eyes flick to you before he looks at Jason meaningfully.

And just what the fuck does he think he’s doing? Jason all but snarls at him.

“Huh. I could’ve sworn you were smarter than that, Hood,” Barbara admonishes.

“Shut up, O,” he grumbles. Jason glances at you to make sure you haven’t caught on to what they’re talking about, but you don’t seem to be paying attention; you’ve pulled up Steam and are scrolling through your game library.

“Maybe it’s time to clue them in. Take off your party hat,” Barbara says meaningfully. Tim nods forcefully.

“Butt out,” Jason says half-heartedly, but it doesn’t stick. He’s been thinking about telling you about Red Hood anyway; you’ve been together for a year and a half. He’s been…well, he’s scared. But maybe he shouldn’t be.

“We’d have to vote on it,” he says gruffly. Tim pumps his fist in the air. “In person,” he says meaningfully. Comm links aren’t safe, apparently.

“You have my vote,” Babs says confidently. “And Batgirl’s, too, she’s here.” Barbara pauses meaningfully. “I’m happy for you, Hood.”

“Me too!” Tim pipes up immediately.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason waves them off, like his heart isn’t pounding. “Can you call everyone over?”

“Roger that.” Barbara seems pleased. “Hood is asking us all to meet near him,” she broadcasts aloud. “Sending you coordinates.”

Dick, Steph, Bruce, and Damian all copy. Jason steels himself. “Alright, RR, time to go.”

You glance at him as he moves toward the window. “Heading out?”

“Yeah,” Tim answers. “Got a big family meeting to get to.” He grins at Jason.

“Okay. See you around. Nice meeting you,” you say to Jason, before turning back to your screen.

“Uh, yeah,” he says uncomfortably, while Tim snickers. “See you later.”

The troops have already assembled two rooftops over. “Hood, what’s the situation?” Bruce asks sternly.

“The situation,” Tim starts happily, “is—”

“Hold on,” Jason cuts him off. “Disconnect comm links.” He watches warily as everyone takes them out of their ears.

“Compromised?” Dick asks with concern.

“Uh, yeah.” Jason scratches the back of his neck. “Listen, uh…” he looks at Tim helplessly.

“Jason’s dating Escher.”

“What!” Dick screams as Steph claps her hands together excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating anyone?”

“Uh—”

“Fuck, yeah!” Steph interrupts. “This is great! Escher’s the freaking best!”

“Language,” Bruce says as Jason takes off the helmet to glare at Steph accusingly.

“We play Minecraft together,” she explains. “I didn’t know you two were dating!”

“Wait, hold on. I thought you all knew about that.” Jason shifts his glare to Tim.

Tim shrugs. “Only me and Babs knew,” he says.

“Timmy, why didn’t you share!” Dick groans, bounding over to ruffle Jason’s hair.

Jason pushes him away, trying to swipe his feet out from under him. Dick dodges easily, throwing a light right hook in return. “Wasn’t any of your business, now was it?” Jason says gruffly.

Tim looks at Dick, raising his eyebrows. “Didn’t want to get on his bad side.”

“Fair.” Dick grins softly at Jason, bumping shoulders with him. “Nice job, Little Wing.”

Jason blushes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Congrats, Todd, but why are we all here?” Damian interrupts.

“I’m gonna tell ‘em,” Jason says simply. “About this. If it’s cool.”

“Fine with me,” Steph says instantly.

Tim nods, “seconded. Babs and Cass say it’s fine with them, we asked before we went dark.”

“Well, who am I to stand in their way,” Dick half-jokes, but he’s looking at Bruce with serious eyes. So is Jason.

“I’ll follow Father’s ruling,” Damian says stoutly.

That leaves the big man himself. Bruce smiles gently. “Of course, Jaylad. We’re all happy for you.”

Jason blushes all over again. “Thanks, old man.” He lets out a breath.

“But we have to ask Duke,” Bruce adds meaningfully.

“I texted him, he says it’s fine,” Tim says quickly. “But also, uh—” he holds his hand to his ear.

Warily, Jason puts his comm back in. “Jason, what the fuck!” you shriek. “What the fucking fuck is this!”

“I forgot to disconnect,” Babs says sheepishly.

“Jason, you ass! Why didn’t you tell me you ran around in a fucking costume?” you shout down the line. Steph and Dick keel over laughing. Jason realizes everyone has taken the liberty of putting their comm back in.

“Baby, please,” he says resignedly.

“Baby?” Dick mouths, beaming.

“Don’t you fucking ‘baby’ me!” you holler.

“Babe, you are a hacker,” he points out. “How come you didn’t share that with the class?”

That makes you pause. “Fair fucking point, I guess,” you mutter. Jason sees Bruce try to tug the comm out of Damian’s ear, but Damian dances out of reach.

“Uh, also, can you cool it with the swearing?” Jason asks. “There’s a kid here.”

“…if it’s Robin I am going to throw up.”

“Hello,” Damian says helpfully.

Your end of the line is silent.

“Hey, Escher, it’s Spoiler!” Steph cuts in. “Nice job shacking up with Hood.” She eyes Jason evilly.

“This is a fucking ambush,” you grind out. “Jason, you fucking ambushed me.”

“Language,” Bruce orders gently. Tim just about busts a gut while Jason waves frantically at Bruce, shaking his head rapidly. “Nice to meet you over the phone,” Bruce adds. Dick gives him a thumbs up.

“…likewise,” you say eventually. “I hope you’ll excuse me, but this has been insane, and I’m disconnecting. Jason, get your as— get back here after you’ve finished your family dinner.” Your end goes dead.

“They seem nice,” Bruce says after a moment. “We’ll have to talk about how they got into the comm links,” he looks at Tim reproachfully.

“See you later, Hood,” Dick says easily, nodding at your building.

Jason turns back to your apartment. He can already see you in the window, arms crossed over your chest. You’re trying to scowl at him, but he can see the smile trying to escape.

He shrugs his shoulders, grinning. You throw up your hands but beckon him anyway. Come on, come back.

Don’t worry, Jason’s coming.

[linoxpudding]

Matchmaking Mission- Kim Seungmin

summary: your friends had enough seeing you and seungmin being oblivious pabos— tired of the back-and-forth, they take matters into their own hands, setting up a series of schemes to finally get you two to admit what’s been obvious all along

pairing: seungmin x reader, bsf!jeongin x reader

genre: fluff, drama, friends-to-lovers

fic type: written + text

a/n: had so much fun writing this request, included a bit of forced proximity trope too

Masterlist

~°~

Seungmin prided himself on being a composed person. He didn’t get overly emotional, he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, and he certainly didn’t get jealous.

At least, that’s what he thought.

Until you walked in.

At first, you were just Jeongin’s friend. An old classmate, someone from his past who had somehow found a way into their present. It was easy to ignore you at first. But then you kept showing up. And then you started talking to him. And that’s when it became a problem.

Because you were funny. And smart. And kind. And you made fun of him in a way that made his stomach feel weird.

And then, worst of all, you started sitting next to him.

That’s when he knew he was in trouble.

The Lovebirds Texts

The Bestie Bickerings

The Matchmaking GC

Operation 1: Denial and the Jealousy That Definitely Didn’t Exist

“Y/N, have you ever considered how muscular Changbin is?”

Seungmin’s head snapped up so fast he almost got whiplash.

Felix, who had casually thrown out the question, smirked as if he had planned this.

Completely oblivious to the brewing storm beside you, you tilted your head. “I mean, yeah? It’s kind of impossible not to notice.”

Seungmin felt his jaw clench.

“Oh, yeah,” Han chimed in, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Changbin has insane arm muscles. I bet you would feel so safe if he carried you, right Y/N?”

You laughed, playfully nudging Changbin. “Guess I’ll have to test that theory.”

Seungmin nearly scoffed out loud. What kind of dumb theory was that? What, was Changbin a chair now?

He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to leave the room. Or flip a table. Either one.

Instead, he opted for silence.

Hyunjin obviously noticed Seungmin’s weird behaviour and turned to him with a teasing grin. “What, bro? You look grumpy.”

Seungmin’s eye twitched. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Hyunjin asked.

“Positive.” Seungmin grumpily replied.

“You look like you want to throw something.” Chan pointed out.

“Just thinking about how dumb you all sound, especially Y/N.” Seungmin shrugged.

You gasped dramatically. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he replied.

The others were watching with thinly veiled amusement, Felix whispering something to Jeongin, who immediately burst into laughter.

“Seungmin, are you jealous?” Minho smirked.

The room fell silent.

Seungmin’s ears burned. “No.”

“Are you sure?” Changbin pressed.

“Absolutely.”

Jeongin smirked. “Then you wouldn’t mind if Y/N sat on Changbin’s lap, right?”

Changbin choked.

Seungmin looked ready to set the entire apartment on fire. “What kind of nonsense—”

“You just said you weren’t jealous.” Jeongin said.

“I’m not. I just think you’re making Y/N uncomfortable.”

You protested, "No, I'm not!"

Han snickered. “Sure, buddy. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Seungmin glared at him. “Shut up.”

You just leaned back, amused. Is he really jealous? You felt sudden goosebumps. But you quickly shoved that thought out of your mind. You were just imagining things. Seungmin? Jealous? Over you? No way.

Beside you Jeongin grinned, whipping out his phone and texting in the group, "Step one of the plan is working. Time for phase two."

Operation 2: Forced Proximity

Over the next few days, you and Seungmin mysteriously found yourselves seated next to each other at every possible opportunity.

Lunch? Next to each other.

Movie night? Stuck on the same couch.

Car ride? Squished together in the backseat.

“Why do I keep ending up next to you?” You frowned, staring at the now very cozy seating arrangement.

“No clue,” Seungmin mumbled, trying not to focus on how close you were.

Meanwhile, the rest of the boys sat across from you both, giving each other secret thumbs-ups.

“Okay, maybe if they get physically closer, they’ll realize something,” Jeongin whispered.

Han grinned. “Should we ‘accidentally’ trap them somewhere next?”

“Dude. That’s genius.”

Operation 3: The Classic ‘Oops, You’re Locked In’ Trick

You frowned as you tugged at the balcony door. “Why is it locked?”

Seungmin groaned. “I swear, if this is them again…”

“Probably,” You muttered. “Can’t they not annoy us for one minute?”

Seungmin let out an exasperated sigh. “Apparently not.”

After a few more attempts to open the door, you gave up. “Great. Locked in here.”

Seungmin rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the floor, then up at the sky, feeling the awkward tension in the air. “I guess... this isn’t too bad.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

Seungmin hesitated, his voice soft. “Well... it's peaceful out here.”

You smiled, noticing the shy look in his eyes. “Yeah. It’s actually kinda nice.”

Seungmin turned his gaze away, trying to hide the soft blush creeping on his face.

Just as the moment lingered, Minho’s voice rang out from the other side of the door. “Ouch! You stepped on my foot, you idiot!”

You and Seungmin froze, exchanging an exasperated glance before laughing.

“You know, maybe they should lock us in here more often,” You joked, and Seungmin chuckled, feeling the warmth in his chest grow.

But still, neither of you acknowledged the growing feelings between you both—at least, not yet.

Before Seungmin could speak again, the door suddenly exploded open with a loud crash, as if a small stampede had broken it down.

Minho, along with the rest of the boys, stood on the other side, all of them pushing and shoving as they tried to listen to your conversation...accidentally broke the door.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS!" Changbin yelled, holding his hands up as the door swung wide open.

Seungmin stared at the wrecked door in disbelief. “You guys broke it down?”

You couldn't hold in your laughter. “Great job, guys. You’ve officially destroyed the door. What now?”

Minho quickly said, “You’re welcome for getting you two out of there. We basically saved your lives.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes, “I can’t believe you guys...”

You, still laughing, added, “At least I got some peace and quiet for a bit before you wrecked it. Nice try, though.”

As the boys all started blaming each other, Seungmin and you exchanged a look—and shared laughter.

Mission: Failed.

Operation 4: Pretend One of Them Is Interested in Y/N

“Alright,” Chan sighed, rubbing his forehead. “We need another new plan.”

The rest of the boys nodded solemnly.

It had been weeks. Weeks of painfully obvious flirting, of stolen glances, of lingering touches.

And yet?

Nothing.

Not one confession. Not even progress.

They were sick of it.

“They need a push,” Felix declared.

“They need a shove,” Minho corrected.

Han nodded. “We have to make them more jealous.”

“They already are jealous,” Jeongin pointed out. “Seungmin just refuses to acknowledge it.”

Hyunjin smirked. “Then let’s force him to.”

They all finalised a plan and went to the living room. Felix was chosen as the 'fake-love-interest'. He went to sit beside you while you were munching on a peanut butter sandwich.

“I think Felix has a crush on Y/N,” Jeongin said sitting beside Seungmin on the couch.

Seungmin, who was casually scrolling on his phone, froze.

“…What.”

“Yeah,” Jeongin continued. “They’ve been texting a lot. He even told me Y/N looked extra pretty today, like look at them.”

Seungmin felt his eye twitch. He looked over the dining area and—yep. Felix was leaning in just a little too close to you.

“Are you serious?” Seungmin scoffed. “Felix is just nice with everyone.”

“But what if he actually likes Y/N?” Hyunjin smirked joining them.

Seungmin slammed his phone down.

“Then I’ll—” He stopped himself.

The group silently leaned in.

“…You’ll what?” Changbin asked, grinning.

“…Nothing,” Seungmin muttered. “Because it’s none of my business.”

You, still oblivious, walked over. “What are you guys talking about?”

Jeongin smirked. “Oh, nothing. Just Seungmin—”

Seungmin kicked his shin. “Shut up.”

Operation 5: The Breaking Point & The Confession

The group finally gave up when they realized Seungmin was never going to confess first.

So naturally, you snapped first.

It was late. Everyone was hanging out, and once again, Seungmin was sitting next to you, being his usual sarcastic, annoying self.

“You really love bothering me, huh?” You muttered.

Seungmin smirked. “It’s my favorite hobby.”

And suddenly, you had enough.

“Okay, listen to me, I can't take this any longer,” you blurted out, standing up. “I have to tell you something."

“What's wrong?” Seungmin looked confused.

You let out a nervous chuckle, “you know what, forget it.”

“No, tell me.”

“Let it go.”

“You know I won't, so just spill it already—”

“I LIKE YOU, I like you, alright? Like a lot. And I swear to god, if you make a joke right now, I will throw you out the window.”

Silence.

The room was dead silent.

Seungmin just stared.

“…You—”

“Yes,” You huffed. “And if you don’t feel the same, that’s fine, I’ll just—”

Seungmin suddenly grabbed your wrist.

“…Who said I didn’t feel the same?” His voice was softer now.

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I thought you knew,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… didn’t think you’d actually like me back.”

The room collectively exploded.

“OH MY GOD FINALLY.”

“IT TOOK FIVE OPERATIONS.”

Jeongin fake wiped a tear. “Our hard work… it paid off.”

Hyunjin clapped dramatically. “And that, my friends, is a successful matchmaking mission.”

Seungmin groaned. “You guys are the worst.”

You just smiled, feeling your heart race as Seungmin’s hand lingered in yours.

“You two better be happy now!” Changbin teased, laughing. “Operation success!”

Seungmin glanced at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips as the group continued to celebrate their victory. The tension that had been building between you both for so long was finally gone, replaced with a quiet but undeniable warmth.

You smiled at the group, but Seungmin wasn’t done yet. Without missing a beat, he took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers in a smooth, almost secretive motion. He then leaned in, voice low but sincere. “Let’s get out of here.”

Before the others could react, Seungmin gently pulled you away from the group, heading towards his room with you in tow. His grip on your hand was firm, yet gentle, as if he was afraid of letting go even for a second. You felt giddy.

The boys, still celebrating, watched them leave in silence, eyes wide in surprise. “Did… they just…” Hyunjin started, his voice a little stunned.

“I guess they did,” Minho said, shaking his head with a smirk. “Mission accomplished, I guess.”

Meanwhile, Seungmin and you found yourselves alone in his room, the door clicking shut behind you. The noise of the celebration faded away as Seungmin turned to face you, a small but warm smile playing on his lips.

You looked at him, heart racing in your chest, a shy smile forming on your face. “So, this is happening, huh?”

Seungmin’s smile widened as he stepped closer, gently brushing his thumb over the back of your hand. “Yeah, it’s happening.” He leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper, “Finally.”

You met him halfway through and pressed your lips in a loving, sweet kiss filled with the unspoken connection that had been growing between you two for so long.

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

Taglist:

@4ng3l-ch1ld @dolphin-scream-s (added a bit proximity trope here, will be posting for others soon!)

[wonkizz]

cute, no?- psh

sunghoon x fem reader genre: smut MDNI!! small amount of angst wc: 4.1k warn: whore sunghoon, “inexperienced”! reader (it’s not exactly important), sensitive reader, sunghoon’s kinda a dick at first, mentions of karina, chaewon, hanni and yunjin, unprotected sex, choking, fingering, pussy eating, mouth fucking, mean! sunghoon at first, kinda soft-ish/calm sunghoon after, taking nudes and “accidentally” sending them to the wrong person, both sunghoon and reader are weird but they’re weird together, very brief kissing, if there’s anything else lmk

note: more smut i promise im thinking of some fluff to write i just keep coming up with these ideas lmao i need to get em out, also this isn’t proof read so hehe

You knew your roommate was somewhat of a whore. It never bothered you, if anything, you were jealous.

He just….snapped his fingers and girls fell at his feet.

You wished you could bag guys that easily.

Albeit you and Sunghoon rarely acknowledged each other. How did you become roommates in the first place, you may be wondering? It’s very simple. You were living with your sister, she moved out to live with her boyfriend, you needed a new roommate, Sunghoon answered your facebook ad. Simple as that.

The only rules you had were keeping the space clean and not being too loud at night.

Sunghoon definitely kept up with the first one, never having a hair out of place.

The second, well… not so much. But, it didn’t bother you. You had really good noise canceling headphones for a reason.

Though at night, you could still hear the sounds of the multitude of girls he would bring home day in and day out.

Their loud moans, whimpers, mewls, borderline screams!

You don’t know if the sex is really good, or if they’re just really sensitive.

It must be Sunghoon though, right?

But is he really that good?

Sometimes you find yourself wishing you were in those girls' places…but you know he’d never go for someone like you.

Something you haven’t mentioned, Sunghoon is like, drop dead gorgeous. You’re surprised he hasn’t been casted as a model or an idol or something.

But he’s just a struggling student like you. Clearly not struggling in the sex department though.

You’re not a virgin, but you’ve only had sex three times in your 22 years of life.

All three times were not that satisfying and personally you don’t blame yourself.

You just haven’t found that person who can really do it for you, and your own hand and toy have started to become…tired.

It’s been quite some time since you’ve felt the touch of another person. You’ve started craving, like you’re touch-starved.

Back to the topic of Sunghoon, he’s mesmerizing and you are a stereotypical nerd.

You’re not ugly, but your everyday appearance is not exactly eye-catching like what Sunghoon typically brings home.

You find yourself thinking about him more often than not. What he’s into sexually. How far he’s willing to go.

One thing about you, you’re very, very sensitive.

You’ve made yourself come 5 times in a span of 20 minutes.

Another thing about you, you’re somewhat of a freak…or maybe a major freak?

Safe to say you think about sex way more than you should, and you are not as vanilla as your friends think you are.

God, if you could just get one crack at Sunghoon, you’d be happy.

But alas, that’s just a dream.

It’s midnight on a Friday, you’ve just gotten out of the shower after doing your whole night routine.

You slip on some comfy pjs (aka an oversized tee and shorts) and make your way to the couch with a late night snack (black raspberry dark chocolate chunk ice cream) ready to indulge in the food network.

Sunghoon isn’t home, you figure he’s out at a party or with friends.

You’re digging into your pint of ice cream when the front door opens.

Sunghoon steps inside and you hear a giggle behind him.

Someone, a woman, steps in behind him.

Their lips are about to meet when her eyes find yours.

“Oh!” She exclaims, pulling away. “This must be your roommate! You didn’t tell me she was so…cute!”

This woman is gorgeous. Sleek, black hair, beautiful body that’s wrapped in a dress that fits her perfectly and her face is something out of a magazine.

She must be looking at you, with your oversized, not to mention stained, tee and shorts, glasses and ice cream in hand like you’re a joke. An utter, complete, joke.

Sunghoon barely spares a glance at you, clearing his throat and gesturing between you and this woman, “Karina, Y/N, Y/N, Karina,” he introduces you to her.

All you can do is wave before realizing the situation you’re in.

Sunghoon has once again brought a woman home and you’re clearly in the way.

You spring up from the couch, “I didn’t mean to be in the way, I'll just go to my room!”

Before either can say anything, you turn off the tv and nearly sprint to your room, ice cream still in hand.

You shut the door behind you, listening to footsteps.

You hear them making their way to Sunghoon’s room, right across from yours.

“She’s cute, no?” You hear Karina ask.

“I guess, not really my type though,” Sunghoon responds.

Ouch. You already knew it, but hearing it said aloud stings more than you thought it would.

The sex Sunghoon and Karina have that night is so loud, even your headphones can block it.

Her moans and squeals of his name infiltrate your mind into the morning, as you barely got any sleep.

You assume Karina is still in the apartment by time you get up for your early morning class.

You’re in the kitchen, preparing a cup of tea when Sunghoon comes in, rubbing his eyes.

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, “I hope we didn’t disturb you too much.”

This is the first time he’s ever bothered to say this to you, not to mention the first time he’s ever acknowledged you in the morning.

You shake your head, giving him a faint smile as you push up your glasses, “Not at all.”

Once you leave the apartment, the walk to campus isn’t far.

Your best friend, Chaewon, is already waiting for you in front of your first class.

By the time you’re free, you meet up with your other friends, Yunjin and Hanni.

“What’s up with you?” Hanni asks, “You seem down.”

You sigh, “Sunghoon brought a really pretty girl home last night.”

They all raise their brows at you, “Okay,” Yunjin says, “that’s never bothered you before? Why now?”

“Because,” you start, “she called me cute.”

“She called you…cute?” Chaewon questions. “Why is that bad?”

“It’s not, but after I went back into my room, I heard them and she said to Sunghoon ‘She’s cute, no?’ and Sunghoon said ‘I guess, but she’s not really my type’. I already knew I wasn’t but hearing it said out loud stung a lot.”

Hanni rubs your shoulder.

“Well who gives a fuck what Sunghoon thinks!” Yunjin says. “You know you’re beautiful, and he’s just a man at the end of the day!”

“I know!” You groan, burying your head in your arms, “I know I shouldn’t care about his opinion or whether I’m his type or not but it’s like, when someone so attractive doesn’t see you that way it’s like, damn!”

You continue, “It’s not like I’m even into him romantically or anything like that. If anything, I’m just into him sexually, cause if you guys heard what I did you probably would be too!”

“So it’s not about romantic feelings, just sexual feelings?” Hanni asks.

You nod, “More like sexual frustration. I haven’t had sex in so long and it’s kinda killing me at this point.”

“So what if you make him acknowledge you sexually?” Chaewon implies.

“How do I do that? Like he said, I’m not even his type.”

“Well number one, acknowledge that this is just for sex. You’re not changing anything about yourself for him because at the end of the day he’s just a man and we don’t change ourselves for men, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay, then, do something to get his attention. Something sexual. Something that’ll catch his eye without changing how you are or who you are.”

You all pause for a moment, thinking of possible ideas.

Yunjin, after 5 minutes, lights up, “I’ve got it!”

After a long, somewhat agitating day of classes, you find yourself back at home.

You took another long, hot shower, did your night routine and dressed yourself in the cutest pj set you have.

What exactly was Yunjin’s plan? Take some pictures and “accidentally” send them to Sunghoon.

Now, have you ever taken nudes before? No. But you did a little research and you figure it can’t be that hard.

With your top pulled up and your tits fully exposed, you sit on your bed, front camera facing your tits.

The lighting is perfect, dim, but not too dark.

As you snap the pic, flash off, you look at it and…damn. If that’s not a good pic, you don’t know what is!

You spend the next 10 minutes debating if you should really do this. What if you just embarrass yourself completely and Sunghoon doesn’t buy into it at all?

Then you’ll never live it down.

But, you won’t know if you don’t try.

You pull up his contact, saved simply as ‘Sunghoon’

and attach the photo with the invisible ink effect and type ‘what do you think?’ before hitting send.

You nearly throw your phone across the room, but instead just slam it face down as your heart starts to beat more rapidly.

You know Sunghoon isn’t home right now, nor do you even know if he’ll be coming home tonight.

The only thing you can do is hope and pray for the best.

You exit out of the messages, not wanting him to know you’re waiting for a response and scroll through your phone trying not to panic.

After an agonizing few minutes, your phone dings.

You prepare yourself for embarrassment.

Sunghoon responded.

You’re expecting shock. An exclamation of sorts. Heck, even a question mark or two.

Instead, all you see is, ‘They’re nice.’

They’re nice.

Did he just fucking say, they’re nice?

Is that good?

You text the group chat a screenshot asking the same question.

The girls respond immediately, telling you to go forth with the plan, that that’s a good sign.

You take a deep breath. Don’t overdo it.

You: omg

You: sunghoon i’m so sorry

You: i didn’t mean to send that to you

He reads it and responds immediately.

Sunghoon: then who did you mean to send it to?

You: a friend

Sunghoon: what friend?

You: don’t worry about it! just please accept my apology :( i’m so sorry again

The text bubble indicates he’s typing, then it disappears and reappears.

Sunghoon: I’m coming home.

Sunghoon: Don’t move.

That last text makes your pussy throb in your pajama shorts.

You send the screenshot to the group chat which erupts immediately.

Chaewon: oh shitttt hehehe

Hanni: i fear you’re getting fucked into the mattress tonight

Yunjin: you mean you don’t fear lmao good luck girl

You occupy yourself for the time being, knowing Sunghoon will be home shortly.

As soon as you hear that front door open, you act nonchalantly, scrolling through your phone as if you’re not ecstatic.

Sunghoon doesn’t even bother knocking, opening your door and letting himself into your room.

His hair is slightly disheveled, like he’d been running his hand through it, and his face is stoic.

You look up at him innocently.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, knowing damn well you’re playing with fire.

Sunghoon scoffs, not saying a word as he walks to the side of your bed, grabbing your phone and throwing it to the side, not even watching where it lands.

You however do watch where it lands on the floor a few feet away and are about to protest when Sunghoon grabs you by the jaw.

“Do you like playing games you know you’re not gonna win?” He asks, voice low and condescending.

Fuck, if it doesn’t make your pussy more wet than it already is.

His grip on your jaw tightens, making you whimper. But you like the pain, and he knows that immediately.

“Take your clothes off,” he commands, finally letting go of your jaw.

You move to do as he says, albeit slowly.

Starting with your top, you lift it over your head, your tits falling out into view.

His eyes latch onto them immediately, and you take note of how he licks his lower lip.

“Shorts too,” he says.

You lay back against your pillows, lifting your hips to drag your shorts down your legs, sitting back up to then throw them in the same direction as your shirt.

Sunghoon smirks in amusement, “Of course you’re not wearing underwear. You’re a little slut aren’t you?”

Your own tongue pokes out to wet your lips and you watch as his eyes follow it.

Sunghoon begins to undress himself, starting with his shirt.

His pale skin is beautiful and the expanse of his toned torso almost makes you drool.

Your eyes find his arms, taking in his biceps and how much you want them around your neck.

“Hey, eyes here,” he says, snapping you back to his own face, making you keep your focus on him.

He unbuckles his belt, taking his time undoing it, pulling it out of the loop, letting it drop to the floor.

You know for a fact that your pussy is leaking onto your bed right now, and you don’t give a damn.

Sunghoon lets his pants fall, stepping out of them.

Now, he’s just left in his boxers.

“Come here, on your knees,” he gestures to you with his finger to the floor.

You obey immediately, crawling off the bed to the floor.

The carpet of your room scratches against your knees but you don’t care.

“Take them off.”

Your hands reach for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down gently.

His hard cock springs out, slapping against his stomach before stilling in front of you.

Sunghoon’s left hand finds the back of your head, grasping your hair tightly.

“Open your mouth, stick your tongue out.”

You do as he says, eager as he chuckles in amusement, “You must love cock don’t you?” He asks, using his right hand to slap the tip of his cock against your tongue, then spreading his pre-cum all over it as you hum in appreciation.

He quietly begins to push his cock into your mouth, before pulling back out.

You do your best to breathe through your nose, as saliva piles in your mouth and drips down the sides.

Suddenly he shoves himself into your mouth, until he hits the back of your throat, making you gag erratically.

Saliva spills out of your mouth rapidly, drilling onto the floor.

Your hands find his thighs, palms open, squeezing softly.

“I told you,” Sunghoon says, “don’t play games you’re not gonna win.”

With that, he begins to roughly thrust in and out of your mouth, getting off on how much you’re gagging.

Tears begin to pool in your eyes as spit and pre-cum mix together to coat his cock and spill everywhere.

He uses your hair as leverage, not letting up for even a second.

You keep your eyes on his as he uses you for his pleasure, even as your tears blur your vision.

“Fucking filthy,” he sneers, “I’m gonna cum in this filthy fucking mouth and you’re gonna swallow it, understood?”

You do your best to nod with his cock still in your mouth.

Suddenly he pulls out, and you gasp for air.

Sunghoon continues to pump himself, still holding onto your hair, “Stick your tongue out,” he says.

You do so and soon he’s spilling his load all over your tongue and into your mouth.

Just as he’s finished, he leans down, dropping a glob of spit on top of everything.

“Swallow.”

You do, eagerly, showing him your clean tongue once you’re done.

He pulls you up by your hair, leading you back to the bed.

Sunghoon shoves you down onto your back, pushing you so you’re up by the headboard, head on the pillows.

He’s on his knees in front of you, cock still hard.

He pushes you into a mating press, your thighs pushed against your chest, practically folded in half.

Without warning, he leans down, tongue meeting your wet, sopping pussy.

You gasp, jerking in place as you squeal from the immediate pleasure it gives you.

“Sunghoon!” You cry, eyes wide as his nonchalant ones look into yours.

“What?” He responds, as if it’s nothing.

“I’m..I’m sensitive.”

He smirks, “Then that means I get to make you come more than once.”

He goes back to your pussy, pinning you down to the bed as he eats you like a starved man.

Sunghoon groans at your taste, licking fat stripes up and down your pussy.

He takes your clit into his mouth, sucking it, flicking it with his tongue repeatedly, even having the balls to scrape it with his teeth lightly.

All this while your back arches up from the bed, hips held in place by Sunghoon’s hands.

“Oh my fucking god!” You shout into the open, knowing this would get you a one way ticket to hell.

Sunghoon then takes his tongue, fucking it into your hole.

You squeal loudly, hands gripping the bed sheets on either side of you.

More tears form in your eyes before falling like water from a faucet.

You’re full on crying from pleasure.

When you said you were sensitive, you meant it.

“Sunghoon, I’m gonna cum,” you whine,” one hand threading itself into his long locks.

He, who was occupying himself, makes his way back to your clit, licking circles around it, up and down, figure eights, anything to make you cum in his mouth.

You’re chanting to god, any god at this point.

With one final call of his name, you cum into his mouth, Sunghoon lapping it all up, swallowing it eagerly as you did to him.

Your breathing is heavy as you’re coming down from your high, noticing as Sunghoon pulls away, his lips glistening with your release on them.

He licks his lips, with that the remnants of you.

Just as you’re beginning to calm down, Sunghoon speaks, “We’re nowhere near done, sweetheart.”

Before you can say anything else, he takes his left hand and middle finger and inserts it inside you, making you gasp.

He doesn’t give you the chance to protest or adjust before he’s thrusting it in and out of you.

You throw your head back, getting used to the intrusion regardless.

Soon he’s inserting another finger, and together those fingers fuck you like no one has ever fingered you.

His fingers are long and they hit every spot inside you immediately.

Before you know it, you’re crying again in pleasure, the tears falling down your cheeks, leaving tear stains like the previous ones.

“Oh my fucking god, Sunghoon.”

“You love this, don’t you,” he says, almost like he’s mocking you.

His fingers curl, hitting that one spot inside you that has your toes curling.

Your mouth opens in shock, and stays open, refusing to close as he finger fucks you open.

Your pussy gets wetter as he goes on, more and more arousal leaking out of you onto his hand.

“You’re like a fountain,” he says, smiling almost genuinely. “You gonna cum again?”

You nod, finally closing your mouth, your lips pursing as you feel something different this time around.

“Sunghoon I think I’m gonna—”

And before you can finish, you’re squirting like an actual fountain, the liquid splashing out of you onto your sheets and Sunghoon’s hand.

You gasp, and even Sunghoon is surprised, his own mouth formed into an o.

His fingers finally slow down, pulling out of you as you finish.

Both of you are quiet for a moment before Sunghoon laughs, “That was fucking hot.”

You can’t help but blush, you’ve never squirted before.

It seems he can tell, “You’ve never done that before?”

You shake your head.

“Well, I’m glad I’m the first to do it.”

He then lands a surprisingly slap on your pussy, making you jump.

Your eyes widen, looking at him in shock and all he does is smile.

“I’m still not done with you,” he says.

“More?” You question.

“You didn’t think you’d get out of this without me fucking you, did you?”

Sunghoon pulls you towards him by your ankles, holding your legs apart before aligning himself with your hole.

You prepare yourself for his size as quickly as you can, because within seconds he’s pushing in.

You take deep breaths, “Fuck, you’re big.”

“I know,” he responds accordingly.

You pout at that, smacking his arm as he laughs at you.

He gives you time to adjust this time around, and after a moment you give him the signal to move.

You realize now he’s calmed down a little bit from before, which you don’t mind, seeing as this is a new side of him.

As he starts to piston his hips, his cock hits all the right places.

Your hands find their place on his back, your nails digging into his skin.

He groans at the feeling, liking the pain.

You mewl at the power in his thrusts, the roll of his hips.

“Fuck, yes Sunghoon.”

“You like taking my cock?”

“Love it,” you manage to get out.

“Oh you love it?” He teases you, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

“Sunghoon,” you say.

He hums, focused on fucking you into the mattress.

You take his hand, bringing it up and wrapping it around your throat.

He looks into your eyes, his own widen for a moment before he bites his lip.

He presses down on the sides of your throat, just enough to wind you slightly.

“Dirty fucking girl.”

He keeps his hand there, steady pressure, making you feel closer and closer to cumming again.

“You gonna cum on my cock this time?” Sunghoon asks.

“Yes, yes, Sunghoon! Want you to cum in me!”

Sunghoon steadies himself, and uses his other hand to press on the bulge in your tummy.

“Cum for me, Y/N.”

You feel the band in your stomach snap for the third time tonight, cumming all around Sunghoon’s cock as you feel him cum inside you, pumping you full.

As his thrusts start to slow down and finally come to a stop, he unwraps his hand from your throat and just looks at you.

Your face, adorned by your glasses. Your red, tear stained cheeks. You look up at him, blinking a few times in succession, “What?”

Sunghoon leans down and for the first time, kisses you.

You kiss him back, albeit somewhat hesitantly.

As you pull away, he looks like there’s something on his mind.

You want to ask what it is, but choose not to.

After using the bathroom, Sunghoon helps you change your sheets and you both redress.

You figure he’s going to go back to his room, but he surprises you as he slides into your bed beside you.

Neither of you says anything for a few minutes, and then, Sunghoon speaks, “So, be honest with me. Who was that picture meant for?”

You take a deep breath, gunning between telling a lie and the truth. The truth eventually wins the battle.

“The truth is, it wasn’t meant for anyone. I sent it to you on purpose,” you say.

Sunghoon’s brows furrow, “But you said it was an accident?”

“Yeah, I lied. The truth is the other night, when you had Karina over I heard you tell her I’m not your type.”

Sunghoon starts to stutter out an excuse, “I didn’t mean—”

“I know what you meant, Sunghoon,” you say, cutting him off. “I won’t lie and say it didn’t sting but at the end of the day I already knew I wasn’t your type. The reality is I kinda just wanted you in my bed so I devised a plan with my friends to make you see me differently and well… it obviously worked.”

Sunghoon is quiet, until he’s not.

You expect him to be weirded out, curse you out and call you names. But instead, he starts laughing.

“That is the craziest shit I’ve ever heard and yet…I kinda like it.”

You look at him to find him already staring at you.

“You’re not weirded out?”

He shakes his head, “I’m oddly flattered. Maybe that’s weird but I guess that makes us both weird then.”

Suddenly, he’s shifting so he’s on top of you, caging you underneath him.

You don’t know what to do with your hands, so you, albeit somewhat awkwardly, place them on his shoulders.

“Is it safe to say you fascinate me now?” Sunghoon asks, leaning down, placing slow, deliberate kisses on your neck and shoulder.

You naturally turn your head to give him more access, “I guess not. I’ve never had someone tell me I fascinate them.”

Sunghoon’s kisses trail upwards until his lips meet yours in another fiery kiss.

Breaking away after a while, he descends until his mouth is adjacent to your clothed pussy.

“Sunghoon,” you interrupt, “we just changed the sheets.”

He looks up at you, a twinkle in his eye, “We can change them again.”

WONKIZZ 2025

[prlssprfctn]

You know how Jaybin was very "pat-patable" so there were always one or two panels where other characters patted his head? So, I actually need this to be ultimate Jason's ability to charm anyone to want to pat him on the head, to the point it continues even after he becomes a double-fridge. Once his helmet is not on him, everyone is just... struck with an urge to ruffle his hair. And it doesn't matter if they are older, younger, or shorter — everyone just want to do that.

Jason brings kids from streets to Leslie to check on them and help to settle down with new families? Leslie asks him to lean over here and pats him on the head, ignoring his flustered face. Jason cooperates with Two-Face? Get a random pat-pat.

The worst part? Kids do that, too!

One moment, he is squatting in front of a kid, cooing at them, and in the next moment, they softly ruffle his hair to thank him for help. And this is embarrassing.

Jason, muttering: I think I am cursed

Dick, worried: What? Why? What are the symptoms?

Jason: Look

Jason, making his way to Tim, who flips through files: So, birdie, I got rid of the trafficking ring you asked me to take care of.

Tim, without getting distracted: Thanks, Jay *reaches out to pat him on the head*

Jason: SEE? THAT HAPPENS ALL THE TIME. WITH EVERYONE.

Dick, stifling a giggle: Well—

Jason, calling Talia at midnight: Are you sure there are no side effects of Pit sounding like this? Sure-sure?

Talia, tired as fuck: I think I would notice that, Jason.

Jason: THEN WHAT IS THE REASON.

Talia: *hangs up*

Jason, pacing in the Cave next to Bruce, because he is a) also insomniac; b) is the greatest detective, so he should be a help: There is only one theory that stays unverified, but it is too unbelievable

Bruce: Hm? Which one?

Jason: The one that means that I am just cute like that. Ridiculous, right?

Bruce: *tries to fight a smile*

Jason: No. No. SHUT UP.

Bruce: I didn't say anything, lad.

Jason: I HEAR YOU THINKING FROM THERE

Bruce, amused: Okay, I'll think quieter.

[libraford]

I've had some time to think about it a little more because the people who are angry with me say that people who were in cults like MAGA can't be fully rehabilitated and they'll just follow the next fascist that comes along with big promises.

I am thinking about my uncle.

He voted Trump in 2016. It was the expected thing to do as a farmer in a very rural town in southern Ohio. He was very much MAGA. So we're all of his friends. They always voted republican. They all watched fox news.

He didnt know much about the economy, but he was tired of politicians, I liked the idea of draining the swamp.

I think it clicked for him that something was amiss when tge deregulation of farming practices started having longterm effects. Which was sooner than most people! But he went to school for ag and knew about listeria and e.coli, and I think it got the wheels turning, even if it took longer than it could have.

And then covid. He was eligible to get vaccinated early because he was over 50, and he took that. Which was hard for him.

I can't remember how he voted, or if he voted at all in 2020, but I know he didn't vote for Trump because when January 6th came around he said 'well, glad I didn't vote for this shit.'

Maybe he hasn't gone full Democrat and maybe he's not 100% supportive of leftist things. But when his friends are talking about which of them got food poisoning this time, he's quick to point out what's causing the listeria outbreaks and start a conversation about deregulation. Because he might not know much about tge economy or gay rights or deportation, but he at least knows THAT.

People would look at this story and say that he's a piece of shit for not caring about kids in cages, or trans rights, or for not thinking about deregulation before it started causing problems. Or because he didnt do a 180 and go from MAGA to Lefty. Or because he was a republican in the first place.

I'm proud of him. He broke the spell.

I don't know if that's the same as rehabilitation. By some definitions maybe not. But he's more critical of his media intake now. I think you're supposed to want that.

[lostinlovingrevery]

Plant Lover

Trilogy! Logan X F! Reader

Logan doesn't want to waste another second

A/N: OKAY I know I've been posting a LOT of trilogy Logan but he's so cute and yummy I can't help it. This is EXTREMELY self-indulgent ngl. Also reader is the same from the Deceiving Looks fic. I just think they're cute.

Warnings: Fluff <3, Logan being mad at a plant, reader has phytokinesis, reader being a bit anxious, Logan being a lover boy, first kisses <3

He had noticed something off with you today. 

You weren’t quite as bubbly or receptive to everyone as you usually were. You were quiet, with a reflective look in your eyes that made you seem far away.

Considering the week you all had, he couldn’t blame you.

Your plants that decorated the mansion weren’t as lively either. 

The Venus Flytrap that you now kept in the kitchen to feed its voracious appetite (even though you had originally claimed it didn’t need to be fed) didn’t try to steal his bacon this morning. The Pothos that climbs throughout the mansion every day seem lackluster in its movements. The bouquets of flowers that decorated almost every room, were dull in color, slightly drooping, as petals floated to the ground. 

Details that flew over everyone else's heads. Not Logans. 

He’d been trying to catch you all day, but either he got pulled off for some silly ass thing like Scott needing help with jet maintenance, or you were distracted with your own duties. 

It was late, and he couldn’t find you anywhere. You weren’t in your greenhouse, the kitchen, the library, or the various living rooms. He made his way to your bedroom, assuming that would be the last place you were in.

He was correct, as he peered in your open door and found you. Your back turned from him, you were folding laundry and placing each piece in your dresser. 

The various novelty lamps in your room create a warm, comforting ambiance. You always preferred the light of the sun through the windows, or the lamps you have now. He’s listened to you politely complain to Charles more than once about the harshness of the inflorescence lights. Charles, ever the patient man he was, has slowly made maintenance orders for various lights throughout the mansion to be changed into something a little nicer.

Admittedly, Logan enjoyed the new lights too. Less harsh. They don’t remind him of the cold, dreary places of his past.

He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed as he examined you. His eyes slowly glancing down to your butt. You were wearing his favorite jeans on you - so he couldn’t help a quick look, before glancing over at the fern that was hanging from your corner. He scowled at it, bringing a finger to his lip silently, his way of telling it to keep its leafy mouth shut. 

“Don’t glare at the fern Lo. They’re sensitive.” You speak up, causing him to quickly snap his head back to you. His lips purse into a thin smile, as he stepped into your room, closing the door behind him. He shot a look to the fern again, before stepping further into your room.

You still had your back turned to him. Pulling out a pair of jeans, you carefully folded it three times over, before sitting it down in your drawer. 

“You alright?” He asks, standing there watching you, his head a bit tilted. You lifted your head and looked over your shoulder at him. 

“Yeah…” You nod. “Just a bit tired today.” You turned back to fold a pair of leggings. 

“Sure.” He says plainly, clearly not believing you. You dropped your hands frustrated, before turning to face him. 

“I’m just worried about things, that’s all.” You say. “Jean has been acting very weird since that incident at Lake Alkali, and this stupid thing going on with that bill being possibly being passed in Washington. It’s scaring me. Not for me but for these kids here, I mean, what going to happen to them? And Hank- all these death threats he’s been getting since he’s accepted the position I-” You turned back around to continue folding the laundry. 

“I didn’t mean to be so quiet with you today y’know?” You spoke again, returning to your laundry. He stood there behind you, watching your movements. “Just a lot on my mind, but it wasn’t you.” you reassured. He could see your shaky hands.

He stepped closer as you talked, and you could sense him behind you. The scent of your shampoo wafting to his nose as your hair bounced with your movements. He brought his hand up, brushing your curls over your shoulder, making you stop. 

You weren’t afraid no, it’s just anytime he touches you, it made your heart jump.

You stopped, waiting for his next move, as you felt his breath on the skin of your neck. He leaned forward, slowly, carefully, and pressed his lips to the nape of your neck. 

You let out a soft breath, your eyes fluttering shut. Heat bloomed along your body, as you tipped your head forward, feeling the soft touch of his lips, pressing small kisses down your nape, until he reached the collar of your shirt. 

He brought a hand up, lifting the collar down a bit, this finger brushing your skin softly, and pressing a kiss to your bare skin.

Shivers ran down your spine; goosebumps prickling your neck and down your arms; and you remind yourself to breathe. 

“It has been a lot lately,” He says lowly, leaning into your ear. His hand came up to your arm. His thumb rubbed soothing circles into your bicep. “But we’ve been getting through it together. Haven’t we? 

You let out a quiet breath and nodded. He turned his head, pressing a kiss to the space behind your ear. 

You and Logan had been on a teeter-totter for a while now. Always just hanging off the edge of something more. Neither of you had been brave enough to take that step off the cliff, and plunge into the depths of the unknown. 

Until now.

Since everything that happened at Lake Alkali, learning the truth of what had happened to him, Jean, Scott, Charles, you, nearly getting killed. It’s put things in perspective for him. He’d been waiting for the moment to…do anything, talk to you, make a move, anything. 

He didn’t know why now seemed to feel so right. 

But it felt so right.

You turned around, and he felt his breath being taken away by the way you looked up at him. You looked in his eyes, as he looked down at your lips. A tense, thin line between you.

A heartbeat passed

He leaned forward, capturing your lips in an eager and desperate kiss. He moved against you with a fiery intensity you could barely keep up, a smile growing on your lips as his hands came up to cup your face, keeping you close. 

Your kiss turned into something messy, a mix of tongue and teeth. Open-mouth kisses where you couldn’t get enough of each other. He pulled you into him, his arms wrapping possessively around you as if he were afraid you’d be taken away from that exact moment. 

You had to pull yourself away from him, just for air. Your cheeks flushed, lightheaded as you gasped for breath. You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes and found him in a similar state as you. 

He still held a death grip around you, keeping you flushed against him, as he leaned forward, his nose clumsily bumping into yours as he nuzzled into your cheek. 

Neither of you had noticed had the plants in your room had greatly flourished. The fern had grown thicker and bushier; the Snake plant stretched taller as if it reached for the stars; your orchids had bloomed, the petals fluttering like a moth drying its wings; the bouquet of wildflowers Logan picked for you seemed to regrow after beginning to wilt. 

You don’t even want to know how much bigger the large Monstera in the corner of your bedroom grew.

“Together, hm?” You ask softly as you respond with the same affection, your hand holding onto his biceps. He smiled, opening his eyes to look into yours. Bright, and adoring, you’d compare them to a begging puppy. You thought you’d swoon, if he hadn’t been holding you so tight. 

“If you want, sweetheart.” He says, in a soft voice you hadn’t heard from before. He watched as small carnations flowered through your hair. You beamed up at him.

“Yeah…I think so, lover.”  

[cherrycheolkat]

heyyyy, could i please request spanking + cheol from your second nsfw bingo 😩😩😣😣😣

oofff you all are popping off with cheol and the nsfw bingo squares - and don't get me wrong, i'm here for it, but i hope we can all match each other's freaks yk

♡ kat

bingo squares: spanking

pairing: choi seungcheol x f!reader

genres: nextdoorneighbor!seungcheol, college student!reader, age gap

summary: y/n is home from college to find her new next-door neighbor is a much younger, hotter man than when she left the fall before (goodbye old mrs. windermere) - but to y/n he seems very lonely and overworked, and she sets out to fix that

word count: 2.2k

warnings: age-gap, smut, voyeurism, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, spanking, cum eating

it was a cool, balmy morning, perfect for a run. y/n made sure to stop and stretch outside her next-door neighbor’s house. she always started out with a tshirt covering her sports bra, but by the time she had made it around the entire neighborhood, she would just be so hot and sweaty that she would have to take it off. just in time to see seungcheol heading out for his workday - she thought it was cute that he always waved and said ‘hi.’

besides, why not let mr. choi see what he was missing. why he was all alone in a huge house, y/n had no idea - it felt a bit sad to her - and she imagined he was a bit sad, she felt like he deserved a little show. something he could store away in his man-brain. she liked to imagine that he jerked off to thoughts of her while he showered. 

lately, she had even made sure to leave her curtains open at night when she was changing for bed - her bedroom faced his. she was basically doing him a service. like a good deed or whatever. and the thought that he might be watching only made her put in the extra effort, like wearing her cutest underwear. because, really, that poor man, all alone in a huge house, and no one around to take care of his needs - she couldn’t even imagine how blue his balls must be. 

plus, why not make him ache to be balls deep in her hot, tight pussy. she had always liked the idea of an older man anyway. boys her age were less than ideal - they didn’t know how to handle her. but she was certain mr. choi would know exactly how to take care of her and all of her needs.

not to mention, she had the best reason to randomly knock on his door - she was house sitting for her parents. so she was all alone in a big house, just one girl against all the creepy sounds that could happen, like trees scraping the window or the raccoons that liked snuffling around her mother’s composting area. and what if she heard sounds like someone breaking in? 

she was ecstatic that her mom had already let the neighbors know that she would be home alone that summer while her parents were off doing some research in whatever far-flung country. her amazing mother had even taken her to meet her new neighbor, since he was right next door - the closest in case y/n needed something. he had been so nice too, letting her know that she could drop by anytime. he even offered to let her use his pool since he wasn’t really home to enjoy it himself. 

so far, she hadn’t taken advantage of his offer to use his pool, but this morning, she planned to ask him if it was okay, since it was really hot. plus she was tired of banging around her parent’s. although, she had baked some cookies - she felt like she might take those to him, as well. whatever she needed to do to get to ride his face - she really didn’t care. 

she made her way back, picking up her pace a bit, worried she might miss him - he was like clockwork - she knew when he left and when he came home, always roughly at the same time each day. she made it back just in time to almost collide with him as she walked to knock on his front door. 

she laughed, “oh, i’m so sorry, mr. choi,” she gushed, “i just wanted to ask if it was still okay if i used your pool?” she made sure to stand with a hand on her hip and to do her best to not look out of breath.

he was dressed in a button-down and slacks, his suit jacket slung over his arm, and half a bagel in his mouth. he was so cute - his hair was just the right amount of messy, but otherwise, he looked so clean-cut. he held up a finger to her and unlocked his car, a nice two-seater, and unceremoniously chucked his bag and jacket in before turning back to her.

she watched him take her in for a second, “yeah, the pool - of course - i can give you the gate code if you have your phone?”

she didn’t run with her phone actually - she liked to have her breaks from tech. she smiled, “oh, no, i don’t actually - could you text it to me?”

of course he could, like the darling he was. he took her number and sent the gate code to her. 

“there’s some snacks and drinks in the outdoor kitchen too,” he offered. 

“oh, thanks - that’s so kind of you,” she genuinely smiled because it was really sweet, since she had never seen anyone really come by his house. 

he smiled, “and it’s seungcheol - mr. choi is my dad,” his dimples only grew at the bad line. 

she laughed though - he was cute enough to get away with a few corny lines. she thanked him again and made sure to tell him to ‘have a good day’ and all of the things he should be told before he went off to work his insane hours. she had the urge to kiss him, but instead, she just flashed her cutest smile and walked back home. 

she showered and changed into a skimpy bikini. she grabbed a book and some extra snacks and her phone, and headed through the back yard to enjoy seungcheol’s amazing pool. she swam for a bit and then lounged and read - it was nice to be able to go back and forth between the pool and her book without having to worry about anyone bothering her stuff. 

she did the same thing the next day too. and the next. but friday, she changed course - she stopped him again in the morning, and offered to make him dinner - she knew he would be home at a reasonable hour, plus she did want to pay him back. actually, pay him back because he had been really nice. plus, being inside his home would really progress things. 

he hadn’t seemed as surprised as she had hoped, but he agreed all the same. 

she was a great cook - she was not concerned about that part of things at all. she had planned a menu the day before and made a grocery order for fillets with a pan sauce, potatoes that she would roast, and she was planning a beet salad with goat’s cheese, some bread that she had started the night before, and dessert would be cherry galette with sweet cream - something easy to throw together but eye catching. she was in no mood to half-ass this. 

she only went to the pool for a quick swim, and then she went home to bake and cook. she made  sure everything was perfect and prepped before she went to grab a shower, dress, do some quick makeup, and generally look as perfect as possible. and then she made her way to seungcheol’s house. 

he opened the door, still wearing his clothes from the day - his top shirt buttons were unbuttoned, his sleeves were rolled up, and he had a drink. he smiled, and she couldn’t help but return the smile when she fully saw his dimples. he was just so cute and gorgeous. she wondered if his cock was perfect too. 

he hung around in the kitchen talking to her as she finished things off. he wasn’t distracting, but he did comment a few times that she had gone to a lot of trouble. 

she just laughed, “i’m home alone all day - this was a fun distraction, plus your pool is so amazing and you’ve been so nice to let me use it,” she said with a smile. 

he was quiet, though. she glanced up and noticed the way he was watching her - his gaze taking her in. he nodded, “how could i say ‘no’ to you though?” he asked, voice softer than she was prepared for. 

she blushed, “i mean it’s pretty easy actually - my dad says ‘no’ to me all the time,” she smiled and turned back to what she was doing. 

she glanced back to see him nodding, “i’m sure you don’t do quiet so much to try to please your dad though, do you?” 

she felt the small shivers that broke out over her skin - his voice was so deep. she shrugged, “that’s not really my department.”

“no, you don’t want to make your father happy?” he sounded incredulous, as he gave his drink a small swirl.

she was pulling dishes from the oven, making sure all the times lined up. she didn’t answer immediately. 

instead, she felt his hands on her hips, “does he know the kind of underwear you wear to bed?” she felt his lips brush her throat, “does he know what a slut you are for my attention?” he whispered just beneath her ear, his lips dragging gently over her skin. 

her eyelids fluttered closed at the contact. she felt his hands slide down the front of the dress she was wearing, before hiking it up, “what underwear are you wearing tonight, baby girl?” he whispered, even as his hands traced up her thighs to her panties - feeeling the barely there satin that just covered her pussy. 

she felt the hard way he exhaled, “fuck,” he murmured, he fingers slipping under the fabric, “and already wet for me too.”

she shivered again, letting him pick her up and settle her on the counter, he fit perfectly between her thighs. she wrapped her legs around his trim waist, as he pulled her close, kissing her roughly. she moaned breathily as she returned his kisses. 

when he leaned back, he gazed at her, “you did mean for us to eat though, didn’t you?”

she nodded meekly. 

he smiled, “right,” his fingers traced down her throat and grazed her breast, “you went to so much trouble for me,” he whispered, smiling. 

she shook her head, “it wasn’t trouble,” she reached up, smoothing his bangs from his face. 

“if you just wanted to fuck, i would say it was a lot of trouble since the gate code and the door code are the same,” he watched her as she nodded slowly, accepting what he had just implied.

he pressed a bit closer, “but you want more than just a few gos on my cock, don’t you, baby doll?”

she bit her lower lip, nodding, “yes,” she breathed. 

she was almost surprised that they made it through dinner. by the time she offered him dessert, he pulled her into his lap, rushing to kiss her. his hand sliding easily between her legs. he swiped her panties to the side and stuffed his fingers in roughly, “so fucking tight,” he whispered. 

she gasped softly, trying to control her breath as he began to finger her and kiss her throat and exposed chest. she was almost shocked by how quickly she came, her juices gushing for him - it usually took ages for her to even come with other guys. but before she could really take it in, he was picking her up and placing her on the table. he pushed her dress up past her midriff. she saw him stick his fingers in the cream on the galette - he held them out to her. she opened her mouth, licking his fingers clean, letting him push his fingers farther and farther into her mouth.

“look at you, baby girl, so good for me,” he smiled, pulling his fingers from her mouth and swiping them through the cream again - this time they didn’t go to her mouth. she felt the sudden chilly, stickiness in her pussy - she clenched around his fingers. he nodded, “so perfect, baby, i don’t even have to tell you what to do,” he murmured. 

and then he was eating her out. stretching her and licking the cream from inside her. she fell back onto the hardwood dining table, sure that she had never felt more bliss. and he brought her so close to orgasm and pulled back, he gave her pussy a small smack. 

“seungcheol,” she whined softly as she felt a second smack that landed perfectly on her clit, causing her hips to buck. 

“hmm, what is it little girl? what do you need from daddy?” he asked as he finally pulled her panties off, dropping them to the side. 

“need you - need your cock,” she whimpered. 

he nodded, “i know little girl,” he smoothed her hair, “maybe in a bit, but first i need to do something,” he smiled as he dragged her to the edge of the table and flipped her over onto her stomach. 

she felt him carass her ass, squeezing her cheeks roughly, and then smacking them gently - his smacks were small at first, and then they were harder, open palmed smacks that made her jolt slightly forward against the table. she could only moan and whimper in response. 

it went on for several minutes until he seemed satisfied that she had been spanked enough, “just so you know why i’m spanking you, baby girl, if you ever go running and take your shirt off again so everyone in the neighborhood can see your perfect little tits bouncing, i won’t take it easy on you, i’ll really have to punish you - understood?” he whispered, his hand was gently stroking her reddened skin, soothing her after the fact. 

she nodded, “yes, daddy,” she moaned. 

he seemed satisfied, sighing softly, “good - now we can go upstairs, and i can take care of you the way you’ve been begging for me to all month.” 

she sat up, wincing slightly - he kissed her softly, his hands cupping her face, “you want to be good for me, don’t you?” he whispered as he pulled away.

she nodded, wanting nothing else. 

a/n: i love writing cheol - fr you have no idea how usually when i write a long fic it's cheol-centric - him and his boba eyes and his amazing eyelashes - he is def the definition of sexy 30s

♡ kat

if you want to submit a bingo ask the original bingo, is [here] and new nsfw only bingo is [here] - you can ask for squares from both

tag list: @syluslittlecrow ☁︎ @gyuguys ☁︎ @haik-chu ☁︎ @tinyelfperson ☁︎ @lovetaroandtaemin ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite ☁︎ @gigglensnort ☁︎

♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts, go [here] & this is my [master list] if you want to read more

[uki01]

Hi I was wondering if you could do yandere (if your comfortable) sonic, shadow, and silver with a gn reader who almost dies

”Living was the Easy Part.”

Sonic The Hedgehog, Shadow The Hedgehog and Silver The Hedgehog x Gender Neutral! Reader (Separately).

Author’s Note: Ooh first Yandere request! Thanks for the request! Time to put my angst and Yandere writing skills to the test! Also remember! It’s not healthy to stay with someone who’s possessive, obsessive with you and doesn’t let you have your own rights, space, freedom or peace. You control yourself, no body does, female? male? any gender? No, you control you, you are you, no body else’s. I don’t support Yandere at all, it’s not okay to do this in real life, if you know anyone like this, tell a close loved one or emergencies immediately. Stay safe y’all 🫶🏽

Warning: Death mentioned, Possessive, Obsessive, Overprotective, Yanderes! Heavy angst, blood, near death experience.

Sonic The Hedgehog

The battle was intense, Dr Eggman wasn’t playing anymore, he got all his robots sending down on Sonic and them.

You try to fend off as much as you can, seeing that all your friends, Tails, Knuckles, Amy and the rest are getting tired.

You looked over at Sonic who was fighting off so much robots as well with Dr Eggman, even if he was tired he still kept fighting through with a cocky grin on his face.

You hated seeing this, as Dr Eggman was about to launch his missile towards Sonic, you panicked and immediately grabbed a nearby weapon you found laying on the battle field.

Running towards Sonic, desperate to save him while Tails and the rest try to stop you from getting hurt, “Y/N! Don’t! It’s way to dangerous you’ll get killed out there!”

But you ignored all that, too focused on saving Sonic.

Even if he was already handling it, the thought of him being hurt made you feel useless, so you pushed Sonic aside as soon as Dr Eggman launched his missile and you whacked the missile away to a different direction but caused an explosion resulting you getting hurt in the process.

After gaining your vision, you were hurt very badly, your arm is burnt, you have scars everywhere and your face is covered in blood, you feel like collapsing but was determined to stay alive.

You can hear someone shouting out your name, you recognised that Blue Blur’s voice, except you didn’t hear the confident tone behind it, only a terrified but desperate one.

Once you found you lying in the middle of the battle field, he was already at your side, basically screaming at you. Carefully treading his arm, making sure he doesn’t hurt you anymore due to your state right now.

”Y/N! Oh my god thank god you’re safe, why the hell would you do that!? I had that handled! You could’ve died from Dr Eggman’s missiles!”

You told him you couldn’t let him die, but Sonic was bubbling with frustration when you said that and shouted back at you.

”But YOU COULD’VE DIED Y/N! Do you think I could go on if you were gone?! What would happen if that missile killed you huh?!… I knew I shouldn’t have let you on the battle field, I’m so sorry Y/N… I should’ve been faster…”

He carefully swoops you up and takes off with you in his arms out of the battle field. Taking you to Tails to aid you in your state right now.

After recovering from that, Sonic hasn’t let you out of his sight ever since, always standing close to you and making sure you are safe and sound.

As much as you we’re grateful for his concern he’s been in your space like almost every time, constantly always just being there with you, every where you go.

You told Sonic that you are fine now but Sonic just shakes his head and says this.

”What if Dr Eggman comes up again huh? What if he has a bigger and more threatening weapon that can kill you in one go? What if I’m not there, fast enough to save you? I cant let that happen, not again, I promise you that.”

As time moved one, the more overprotective Sonic gets, basically just your body guard. Going anywhere you go.

Going to the mall? Oh Sonic will go with you! He can help you carry your shopping bags! Going to the gym? He’ll come and train with you! Doesn’t want anyone looking at you while you workout, going for a jog? Oh he’ll tag along! Sonic loves exercise, it in his name and legs.

This kind of scares you more, as you try to tell Sonic that you need space and alone time, that’s when Sonic’s cocky and carefree demeanour falters and he starts looking like a wild animal or more… crazed.

”Are you serious? Space? After what just happened? No, no no no I can’t let you walk around free knowing that Dr Eggman can strike any time and I am not there to save you in time, you need me to protect you, I won’t let anything hurt you ever.”

Ever since, he has never let you out of his sight, he won’t trap you anywhere at the house you and Sonic are staying at since he hates oppression, but I’ll tell you one thing, if you try to run away from him, don’t even do it again, he’ll always be faster than you.

”Please don’t run away babe, you’re breaking my heart, I’m just protecting you, can’t you see that? I won’t let anyone dare to lay a finger on you, ever. Plus you can’t run away from me babe, so don’t run away, you’ll know I’ll always catch you.”

So no matter what you do. You cannot outrun him, Sonic will always be faster than you.

Shadow The Hedgehog

This battle was tough. Dr Eggman was not giving up, his robots fighting against Team Dark and you.

You can see across the battle field that Rouge is visibly tired but still fighting and so is Omega, who can’t get visibly tired but is getting bombarded with Dr Eggman’s robots. You look across to see Shadow who is fine but has a ton of robots on him too, hate to see him like this, so you grabbed a weapon that can shoot blasters.

You start running towards Shadow to save him, Rouge seeing you run over, confused but figured out what you are doing “Y/N! Stop! You’ll get killed!” She gets bombarded with other Dr Eggman’s robots.

You didn’t care though, what matters now is saving Shadow, as soon as the robots were launched onto him and so was Dr Eggman, he slide in just in time and hold Shadow close to your chest as protecting and aim the blaster towards the robots and Dr Eggman, blasting them far away but resulted an explosions blowing you and Shadow away from each other.

After you woke up, your vision finally starts to clear, you see Shadow watching over you.

Soon as he sees you finally awake, to your surprise, he hugs you tight, so close, afraid that he’ll let you go and basically scolding you.

”You idiot! Why would you do that! I had it handled! You know I can survive these kind of situations, you cannot throw yourself in like that you’ll get hurt! Or worse! Dead!”

You sighed at this, there wasn’t any malice in those words, he was just upset at what you did, telling him you didn’t want to see him get hurt in the process which makes him more angry with you.

”So you think it was a good idea to throw yourself, against Dr Eggman’s robots? You could’ve died Y/N, I am suppose to protect you, from now on, I am not letting you into any battles, ever.”

Ever since, Shadow started looming over you, watching your every move.

You feel like it’s just you whenever you go somewhere but Shadow’s always there, watching in the shadows like a hawk.

You’ve been feeling uneasy over these past few months, one day you confronted Shadow, you try to tell him in the most politest and nicest way possible that you need your own space, you are fine and you can handle yourself. But Shadow doesn’t take it lightly, he takes it like you said something offensive, so he narrows his eyes and scowls at you.

”You think you are better off without me? What just happened the last time we battled Dr Eggman huh? You almost died and you say you can handle yourself when we both know you are very selfless when it comes to saving people, so I am not going anywhere, there’s no one strong enough to protect you, you have me, only me.”

After you said that, he will always be with you if you need to go somewhere, you aren’t going out of his sights ever and if Dr Eggman is nearby, he forces you to stay inside the house. If you are ver tried to run off, Shadow will immediately chaos control to you, he’ll find you like a snap of a finger.

”You know this is all worth nothing right?, I can get to you just quickly as that, so stop trying to run damnit, can’t you see I’m trying to protect you? And your making it harder for me, especially when Dr Eggman is on the loose and I can’t check in to see if your okay, so please my love, stop running away.”

Shadow will always remind you if you try to run that he, is The Ultimate Lifeform.

Silver The Hedgehog

This battle felt like it went on for ages. Dr Eggman felt persistent today and it for sure was working.

Silver was using his telekinetic powers aganist Dr Eggman’s robots while Blaze was doing the same with her pyrotechnics powers.

You can see both of them visibly struggling, you grabbed a nearby rocket launcher lying around and run towards Silver who was trying to catch his breath while still fighting.

Blaze sees you running and tries to yell out to you “Y/N stop! Don’t go in there! It’s too dangerous!”

It didn’t matter though, what mattered is helping Silver.

As soon as Dr Eggman showed up and one of his robots were launched towards Silver, you stepped in front of him just in time and blasted the rocket launcher, aiming towards the robot and Dr Eggman.

But it caused an explosion which knocked you out unconscious.

Soon as you start stirring, you say up and see Silver by your side, soon as he sees you awake, he’s immediately hugging you, tightly while his voice cracks slightly.

”Why would you do that?! You almost died out there Y/N! Don’t you ever! Ever do that again! I should’ve have let you out there, I am so sorry sweetheart…”

You hugged him back reassuringly but this is just the start of your torture.

Ever since, Silver has been at your side, constantly sticking close to you, like a koala clinging onto a tree.

Always helping you to get something, find, lift or anything really, barely letting you do anything yourself or give some time to yourself as well, basically like your personal bubble wasn’t even a thing.

This was becoming overwhelming when the time passes by ever day, so you told Silver that as much as you appreciated his concern, it was just becoming too much now and ask for personal space and alone time, unfortunately Silver doesn’t take it very well.

”B-But I have protected you all these times! Does this not mean anything to you?! I swore that I would protect you with all my life, strength and what I’ve got left in me! Please please don’t let me go sweetheart!”

After that, it just became worse, you always saw Silver, every time, every day, never letting you go, never letting you have your own air or anything.

If you try to run off, Silver will use his telekinetic powers to find you.

”Sweetheart don’t you see what I’m trying to do for you? I don’t understand why you insist on leaving me when I’ve been the one by your side unlike anyone else, so please… I beg of you sweetheart… please don’t run, it’s no use.”

Silver will always be there, reminding you that it’s no use to run away from him, so please, just stay with him.

Author’s Note: This was fun to make, hope you enjoyed this!

REMEMBER! NONE OF THIS IS HEALTHY AND I DO NOT SUPPORT THIS. PLEASE CONTACT A CLOSE LOVED ONE OR EMERGENCIES IF YOU SEE ANY OF THIS BEHAVIOUR TOWARDS YOU OR ANYONE. No one deserves to be treated like a prize, you are human.

Love y’all , stay safe 🫶🏽💕

[helaintoloki]

Good Luck, Babe

pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader, Yelena Belova x reader (past relationship)

warnings: suggestive content, fluff, lots of angst, yelena is extremely mean (justifiably)

notes: yes this was inspired by the chappell roan song. yes i love angst. and yes my requests are open

summary: you are happily married to Bucky, but that doesn’t stop the past from coming back to haunt you

The bedroom is drowned in moonlight as the open curtains blow gently from the cool breeze. Goosebumps form along the span of your arms, but you’re not sure if it’s a result of the chill or the feel of Yelena’s fingers gently raking up and down your bare back. She is strangely quiet, but her pensiveness is not out of character considering it’s the night before a mission.

You were sent with her to assassinate a known whistleblower hiding in the outskirts of Italy, and by tomorrow morning they will be arriving to the same hotel you are currently spending the night in. Yelena will finish the job while you watch positioned from a nearby rooftop ready to snipe him through the window in the event things go wrong. You know they won’t for Yelena has never been known to be sloppy, but you’d been adamant about your role as the sniper. She is unwise to the fact that this will be your last night together, for when tomorrow comes you will finally make your escape and free yourself from the clutches of the Red Room.

“Do you think they have breakfast in bed here?” She prompts with a sleepy smile, arms pulling you closer against her bare chest so that you can feel her heart beat against you.

“As if we could afford such a luxury,” you remind her playfully. “They will not waste such resources on us. We aren’t on a vacation.”

“I know, I know, but it would be nice,” she argues before leaning down to steal a kiss from you. “Besides, there are a lot of things we are not allowed to have, and yet I have you.”

Her tender gaze only twists the knife in your heart and fills you with suffocating guilt. You desperately wish you could take her with you, beg her to runaway into the sunset together, but it’s too risky. Very few Widows have ever managed to escape, and those who have were only able to do so alone. Despite how much Yelena loved you, her loyalty was to Dreykov, and she would do everything in her power to stop you from running if she knew what you had planned. Even if she could find it within herself to put you over the Black Widows, you would only be putting her in danger. You are willing to risk dying for your freedom, but you are not willing to risk her life in the process.

“So sentimental,” you coo teasingly before rolling yourself on top of her. “You’ve gone soft, Yelena.”

“I have not,” she rebuffs defensively before immediately rolling over so that it is now you who is pinned underneath her. “Are you forgetting who’s in charge here?”

“How could I?” You say flirtatiously, laughing when she retaliates by attacking your neck with her lips in the spot she knows is extra sensitive to touch. Your joy echoes through the silent hotel room, and for a moment you can simply forget that this will be the last time you can share such intimacy with her.

You wonder if she’ll ever be able to forgive you.

The feel of your husband’s lips against the spot on your neck he knows is extra sensitive to touch slowly rouses you awake from your dream. You’re not sure what time it is, but you can guess that you’ve probably overslept. His cool metal fingers gently dig into your hip while he proceeds his ministrations, and his tired smile is the first thing you see when you finally will yourself to open your eyes.

“I thought you’d never wake up,” Bucky jokes sweetly before pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Are we late?” You murmur sleepily before curling yourself into his arms. He’s especially warm this morning, and it makes it even harder for you to muster up the energy to get out of bed.

“There’s still time before the hearing, but Valentina wants us there early to go over the proposal one last time.”

“I don’t like that woman,” you mutter irately, prompting a small chuckle to escape your partner. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting us into?”

“I really hope so,” he offers with a sigh before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I’ll get the shower running for us.”

You watch him retreat to the bathroom with a sleepy smile before stretching out your limbs and sitting up in bed. The remnants of your dream still linger in your mind, and you find yourself absently rubbing your arm while you think back to all those years ago. You loved the life you lived now, free from the Red Room and married to a wonderful man, but that didn’t stop the memories of Yelena from infiltrating your life every now and then. The fellow Widow had been your first love, your first everything really, and it was hard to forget something like that.

You never attempted to reach out to her after your escape in fear that you might compromise your new life, so you forced yourself to move on. You moved to the states and began a career teaching self-defense classes to women by day and enacting vigilante justice by night. Your extracurricular activity caught the interest of Captain America, and it was through Sam that you eventually crossed paths with Bucky.

His ability to understand the life you had lived before becoming a hero and the secrets you kept was a comfort you greatly appreciated, so it didn’t take long before you two decided to begin a romantic relationship. You were married within three years of being together, and life was simple. You adored him more than anything, so you couldn’t understand why thoughts of Yelena continued to haunt you to this day.

“Shower’s ready, doll,” Bucky calls out from the bathroom, breaking you out of your contemplative state. You sigh and kick the sheets off of your body before making your way towards your husband. Today has to go well, so you will your mind to rid itself of the memories of a woman who is no longer in your life and strip off your clothes before stepping under the warm water with your husband.

You both get a little sidetracked during your shared shower, but you’re eventually able to get yourselves ready and to the hearing on time. Valentina’s pitch is a success, and now all that is left is for you and Bucky to gather Valentina’s candidates for a new team of heroes.

“I’ve certainly got my work cut out for me,” he sighs after surveying the various files laid out on your dining room table, oblivious to your sudden quiet nature as you stare intently at one file in particular. You don’t remember it being there before, and a part of you wonders if Valentina had hid it from you until she was sure she had you onboard- but how could she know if you’d never voiced your relationship with Yelena to a single soul?

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky prompts with a gentle hand resting on the small of your back. You immediately snap out of your daze and harshly swallow the nervous spit that had been accumulating in your throat before offering him a shaky smile.

“Fine. I just…” you begin to say, but you’re at a loss for words. Your body feels like it’s buzzing with anxiety and dread at the thought of having to face your past after all these years, and you don’t know if you can handle having your ex and your husband on the same team with you.

“What is it?” Bucky coaxes gently, voice low and soothing in an attempt to ease your nerves. “You know you can tell me anything.”

His eyes follow your gaze to Yelena’s file, prompting him to tentatively slide it to the forefront so that her intense gaze is now staring right at you. You watch him silently look over the document before looking up at your sullen features. “Did you know her?”

You can only nod, not ready to voice it aloud but also not willing to lie to your husband. You don’t know why you’re so afraid to just tell him the truth, to tell him that you had once loved this woman the same way she had once loved you, but you’re not willing to face the guilt and shame that come with remembering your abandonment of your closest friend and confidant.

“I have a past,” you barely manage to get out.

“Everyone does,” he reminds you with a comforting smile, tone lacking any hint of judgement or scrutiny. “I know that better than anyone, and because of that you know I’d never hold your past against you. Tell me what you’re thinking, doll.”

“I’m thinking about how to tell you that I not only know this woman, but I also had a… romantic relationship with her,” you finally confess, allowing your eyes to land anywhere but on Bucky’s face in fear of being met with anger and disgust. Instead, you feel his fingers gently grasp onto your chin before tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“Is that what you’re so afraid to tell me?” Bucky teases lightheartedly. His smile is easygoing and understanding, and it helps in alleviating some of your nerves. “I guess I can see why you wouldn’t want to tell your husband that one of his targets is your ex-girlfriend, but it’s old history now, isn’t it?”

You wish you could agree, could give him a smile and a laugh and admit there’s nothing to worry about because it’s not like you still think about her, but you know that wouldn’t be the truth. Her face still haunts your dreams, and your unresolved ending of the relationship still gnaws at your conscious. You don’t think you still love her, but the lack of closure makes it hard to let go.

“She was a big part of my life when I was a Widow,” you admit truthfully, “and as much as I try I can’t forget that. I can’t forget her. Not when I left things so horribly.”

Sighing, Bucky carefully wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his broad chest. You can feel it rumble as he lets out a reminiscent hum before kissing the top of your head.

“Trust me, I get it. I really do. Maybe seeing her again will give you the closure you need to move on from it.”

You shut your eyes and tightly wrap your arms around him before murmuring into his chest, “How are you so perfect and understanding?”

“Because I have a wife that makes me want to be the best version of myself I can be,” he replies fondly while comfortingly rubbing your back. “You do what you need to do, and I’ll support you one hundred percent. Just as long as it’s me you’re coming home to, of course.”

You let out an amused huff at his words and allow yourself to simply enjoy being in his embrace knowing it will probably the last moment of peace you’ll get before the real work starts.

After your discussion, Bucky decides that maybe it’s best if you seek Yelena out yourself while he gathers the others- if you need backup he’ll be there, but he thinks it might be better if you get the chance to speak to her alone. That’s how you end up trailing her for nearly an hour through the city before finally getting her corned in an abandoned ally.

“Yelly,” you call out, prompting the woman to halt her brisk walking and freeze in her tracks at the sound of the nickname. Though you can’t see her face just yet, you can tell by her body language that your voice has immediately put her on edge. You fear that she might run, but instead she slowly turns herself to face you and stares you down in a way that feels as if she’d just punched the air out of your stomach.

Eyes that once looked upon you fondly with love and adoration now hold malice and murderous resentment as you cautiously make your way towards her.

“I knew you were following me,” she states bluntly, tone firm and unforgiving. “I had hoped you’d be smart enough to leave me alone, but you seem insistent on tormenting me.”

“It’s nice to see you, too,” you offer in an attempt to lighten the tense mood, but this only agitates her further. “If you knew I was following you, then you know why I’m here.”

“Valentina,” Yelena spits venomously before crossing her arms defensively over her chest. “I have no interest working with you or your stupid husband.”

She says the word as if it’s a forbidden curse word, as if it is the most disgusting and vile insult, and to her it is. Her body nearly vibrates from the rage and hurt she feels deep in her heart, and it is taking everything within her not to throw you to the ground and unleash all her pent up aggression.

“Yelena-“

“You left me,” she reminds you bitterly, “without a goodbye or a note. You never even tried to come back for me.”

Your chest is tight with anguish at finally having to come face to face with the consequences of leaving her all those years ago. You know there isn’t anything you can say or do to make things better other than apologize, but Yelena has made it clear that she’s not interested in whatever it is you have to say.

“I couldn’t,” you insist, desperate for her to understand. “You either would have stopped me or gone with me, and if I had been caught you’d be guilty by association. They would have discovered the nature of our relationship and killed us both.”

“‘Nature of our relationship?! You can’t even admit what we were?!” She yells in disbelief, causing you to shrink down in shame as you only continue to dig a deeper hole for yourself. “You can’t even acknowledge that we loved each other?!”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” You try to insist only for her to roll her eyes.

“Excuses,” she scoffs whilst throwing her hands up in frustration. Her angered face soon turns solemn, reminiscent of a kicked dog as she quietly admits, “I looked for you.”

“What?” You gape in quiet shock.

“After Natasha and I killed Dreykov, after we freed the Widows. I thought if I found you we could start over now that things were different, now that I was free. But instead I found you in the arms of another, happy and content with that… that man. We were Widows together, partners, and now you’re nothing more than a congressman’s wife.”

“Yelena…” you whisper, heart in shambles as you’re faced with the damage you’ve caused. You feel like you can’t breathe. You can’t stand to see how much hate she holds for you, though you know you absolutely deserve every ounce of it.

“I meant nothing to you, and now you mean nothing to me.”

The air is deathly silent as her words drive through your heart like a dagger, her shoulder harshly colliding with your own as she shoves past you. A tear slides down your cheek while you fight to hold back a sob, and when you hear her footsteps pause you hope that she’ll take it back, that she’ll pull you into her arms and offer you her forgiveness.

Instead, you turn to find that her footsteps have only halted because of the man blocking her path at the end of the alleyway. Your husband’s features are scrutinizing as he surveys the scene, looking from Yelena’s choleric features to your tear stained face. Your past and your present stare one another down while you can only watch.

“Balova,” he mutters curtly.

“Barnes,” she spits back.

The two simply stare one another down for what feels like ages before Bucky finally pushes past her and comes to your aid. His features soften as he gently pulls you into his embrace and shields you from the woman that looks on in resentment.

“You’re free to go,” Bucky utters sharply. “For now. You’ll be hearing from me.”

“Don’t bother.”

“It’s not a choice,” he warns, gaze turning sharp when her eyes drift back to you. She notes the way his arms protectively wrap around your frame and feels her lips quirk up into a wry smile. You are his burden now, and she couldn’t care in the slightest.

“Good luck with that,” Yelena remarks with a humorless laugh before finally making her exit so that only you and Bucky remain. He carefully pulls away to look down at your flushed features and presses a comforting kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he offers sympathetically, “I shouldn’t have put this on you. I should have handled it myself.”

You swallow softly and look towards the empty space that now remains in Yelena’s absence. You think back to your last night with the woman and remember how tenderly she had held you, how sweetly she had professed her love for you.

“No,” you say after letting out a shuddering breath. “This is all my fault.”

You never should have left her.

[caramelarrowswife]

heyyy love your work! <33

I’m sorry if youre sick and tired of the purecacao/Dark Cacao promps but could I request ancients being invited to the Dark Cacao Kingdom for Choco’s birth/bakening(?) and they all absolutely fall inlove with that little bugger?

With some (not so subtle) Purecacao in the background? Maybe PV adoring Choco to the point of it bordering on fatherly love and Cacao getting so so flustered over it </33

Friends Being Foes

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

The new Heir to the Dark Cacao Throne had been born; a small warrior with the name Dark Choco Cookie.

It had taken a few days of convincing the very paranoid father, but the Ancient Heroes were finally allowed to visit the little boy.. and by the Witches, did the little boy enjoy the attention.

A/N: not at all sick and tired!! this was such an adorable request, i had a blast writing it hehe :3

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

The group of five made their way towards Dark Cacao Cookie’s bedroom; the warrior-king made sure he arrived at the cradle first, but this didn’t stop Hollyberry Cookie from getting a hold on the baby first.

“Look at you! You look just like your old man!” Hollyberry said, grinning ear to ear. She held Dark Choco up as if he was a rare gem that needed to be studied in daylight.

Dark Cacao’s hands twitched and he smiled tightly. “Why don’t we put him back to bed-”

Dark Choco babbled something incomprehensible, chubby little hands grabbing at Hollyberry’s face. The queen let out a loud chuckle, handing the baby over to White Lily Cookie.

The gentle lady looked at the small child with curiosity and wonder.

“Hello, small one..” she murmured, softly caressing Dark Choco’s cheek with her thumb. He made small sounds, grabbing for the lily on her head.

 White Lily smiled softly, handing the fragile child over to Golden Cheese Cookie - who was a little less careful.

“Hello there, tiny man,” Golden Cheese cooed. “Oh, look at you, reaching for the shinies - you want that? You wanna have my spear?”

Dark Cacao barely stifled a scream when Golden Cheese flew higher, towards the ceiling, with his baby in her arms. The winged queen laughed loudly at the sheer panic in his eyes.

“Don’t stress it, grandpa!” She said teasingly. “We don’t want to get your blood levels too high!”

“My blood levels are fine! Get down right this instant!” Dark Cacao shouted, his voice a pitch higher than usually. “I’m not joking, Golden Cheese!”

“You never are,” Golden Cheese pouted. “May you be more fun than your daddy, my little treasure..”

Dark Cacao sighed in relief as Dark Choco was brought down again, holding his hands out for his child - until the baby was taken by Pure Vanilla.

Very well, then. Dark Cacao could trust his small son in the hands of a capable man. A man that had caressed his skin at night, a man that had healed his wounds with the tenderness of a lover. Pure Vanilla would be sure to keep his boy safe-

The healer threw Dark Choco into the air, at least four feet towards the ceiling. Dark Cacao could not silence his scream this time as he shouldered his friends aside to catch his (now loudly giggling) baby.

“You’re all mad!” Dark Cacao whisper-shouted. “Vanilla, what the hell?!”

“We do this to Vanillian children,” Pure Vanilla said, a little puzzled about his friend’s extreme reaction. “With a Kingdom high in the sky, babies should learn to overcome a fear of heights immediately after birth.”

“My Kingdom is safely on the ground!” Dark Cacao looked like he might actually get a heart attack. “Pure Vanilla, Dark Choco should under no circumstance be thrown into the air like- like a- I cannot think of a single thing that should be thrown into the air!”

“Baby birds?” Golden Cheese suggested.

Dark Cacao jerked his head to her direction. “What?!”

“Nevermind.” She hovered down to his level, watching as Dark Cacao held his son close to his chest. “He really does look like you, you know. Oh, I just know he’s going to have the exact same grumpy expression!~”

Dark Choco giggled as both Hollyberry and Golden Cheese stared at him with matching grins. Pure Vanilla chose to stand by Dark Cacao’s side, later followed by White Lily as he stared lovingly at the tiny critter.

“May I hold him one more time?” Pure Vanilla murmured. “I won’t do anything bad, I promise.”

Dark Cacao hesitated, but when his eyes met those mismatched ones, he knew it was over for him. He never had been able to say ‘no’ to the kind-hearted healer, after all.

Pure Vanilla held Dark Choco in his arms, murmuring soft words the others couldn’t hear. While the new-born cookie couldn’t understand them, he found them mighty entertaining, and-

“Appa!” Dark Choco babbled. "Papa-!"

A flush crawled up Pure Vanilla’s face, but he wasn’t nearly as red as Dark Cacao was. The king stepped forward, reaching to take his son again. “Okay, that’s enough-”

Dark Choco let out a loud cry, clinging to Pure Vanilla’s white gown with one hand and Dark Cacao’s hanbok with the other. Dark Cacao tried to pry those little fingers off of his clothes, but Dark Choco held on with a vice-like grip.

“Oh, he really is like you!” Hollyberry beamed. “Do you remember when we were children, and your father tried to take that raggedy plushie you loved so much-”

Dark Cacao kicked her shin, hard. It did not take away the fact he was now face-to-face with Pure Vanilla.

“Well, his Royal Highness has spoken,” Pure Vanilla teased, not unkindly. “Brood no longer, my king, for your new partner has arrived!”

Dark Cacao let out a laugh that bordered on hysteria, his face growing redder. He wished the ground would swallow him whole.

“Perhaps Dark Choco remembers Pure Vanilla’s face from all the times you’ve drawn him?” Golden Cheese said.

A look of betrayal was sent her way by Dark Cacao. “The paintings were a secret.”

Pure Vanilla raised an eyebrow and his smile widened. Had he tried to look mischievous, he failed miserably; love and adoration streamed through his very being. “I’d like to see those, Cacao.”

Dark Cacao let out a low, embarrassed groan.

He never should’ve brought them here.

[toiletclown]

reciprocation.

spencer agnew x f!reader, enemies to lovers for anon.

mostly fluff, but there is angst (in my opinion)

summary: it started innocuous. a well-meaning question from your best friend. it all spiraled from there.

there are some things in life that are universally true and agreed upon. the sky is blue. the grass is green. and you and spencer agnew hate each other. when your closest friends grow tired of this nonsense, they hatch a plan. it's unlikely, silly, even. but it works.

word count: 13.6k (yes i'm posting this as a one-shot, not multi-chaptered, sorry lol)

────୨ৎ────

"does the whole 'hating spencer' schtick ever get tired to you?" angela asked one day, while the two of you were out to lunch.

it was a sunny day, as usual, and you started sweating through your tank top just a little harder. perhaps the sun came out from behind a stray cloud.

"i'm sorry?" was your response, followed by a forkful of pasta.

"y'know, this weird bit you guys have going on." ang stared at you, analyzing your face, looking for a reaction.

all she saw was confusion. "i'm not... sure what you mean? we don't have 'a bit'. we aren't friends. kind of hard to have an inside joke when you only spend time together on camera. and half the time i drown him out anyway," you shrugged. neither of you liked each other, and that was fine. you were used to it, and the familiarity was nice. smosh was a very busy and ever-changing job. being able to rely on that was kind of nice. you were never a fan of change, anyway.

"wait, so you and spencer actually dislike each other? like, for real?" your best friend looked genuinely taken aback. you weren't sure why, you had thought it was fairly obvious that the two of you didn't get along.

"yes, we actually dislike each other 'like, for real', angela. i thought that was clear, you've seen the way we interact." you were gathering up another forkful of pasta, and angela started laughing. "why the fuck are you laughing?"

"because it's comical? i thought it was a bit! i thought you two were friends and it was just, like, a long, drawn-out joke, honestly."

"why on earth would you think that it was a bit, ang? i'm a good comedian but i'm not that great of a liar. i wouldn't be able to keep up a conspiracy like that. i fear that’s too much work for me." you ate your forkful finally. angela was still looking at you in disbelief, a few small cackles escaping her now and then.

"yeah, that's fair. crazy bit to commit so hard to, i guess. wait, so why don't you like him?" the brunette had abandoned her pasta at this point, bowl pushed slightly out of the way so she can gesticulate with freedom. "and why doesn't he like you? are you secretly middle school rivals? rivals in some niche video game scene? did he outbid you on a guitar on ebay and now you've vowed to ruin his life?"

you rolled your eyes, lovingly. your favorite thing about angela was how far she could take a joke. picked it up and ran with it. you leaned in, your voice barely audible. "you want to know a secret?"

her eyes widened, leaning in and matching your whisper, "yes, please spill!"

you shifted your eyes from left to right, as though looking for someone who could overhear and ruin your life. you took a deep breath in, preparing to spill… the truth.

"i don't actually know why we hate each other," you whispered, shrugging before sitting back in your chair with an air of finality.

"what?!"

"shh, oh my god, shut the fuck up--"

"what do you mean you don't know?" angela was moving her arms wildly at this point, "why do you still hate him then? does he know? what the fuck?"

"babe, i need you to calm down, we are still very much in a public restaurant--"

"and? spill, bitch, or you're paying the full bill."

"fine! god. i genuinely cannot tell you why we hate each other. yes, we do really hate each other. yes, he knows i hate him, and yes, i know he hates me. that has been the only thing we have ever agreed upon in our entire time at smosh. no, we aren't secretly hate fucking. no, i don't have his number, we only talk at and about work so we use slack. no, i don't know why the hate is mutual, i just know that it is. no, i don't plan on trying to change that any time soon. happy?"

before she could respond with what was likely another barrage of questions, your server came to the table and sat the bill down in front of angela.

"they always assume that i'm paying, what the hell?"

you were glad for the distraction.

✰ .ᐟ

"hello and welcome to you posted that? you posted that is a show where we embarrass our guests with their old, cringy, insane social media posts!" the room filled with cheers as ian intro'd the show, and you were so excited to finally be on it. but you also were nervous to see what they dug from the depths of your twitter.

"joining us today..." ian faked a drumroll on the podium, "our first guest is trevor evarts!"

"please don't bring up any of my rhett and link tweets," he said with a wave.

ian drumrolled again, "second up, we have shayne topp!"

"glad to be here, steve."

"and last but not least, y/n!"

"i am terrified." you said, being sure to stare down the camera, a look of anxiety on your face. you were playing it up, but it was definitely real to a degree. you had said a lot of cringy shit in your younger years. not to mention the not-so-uncommon complaints about a certain coworker. ian wouldn’t do that to you, though. right?

"terrified?” ian scanned the contestant's faces. “is anyone else feeling terrified?"

"not really, steve. i'm proud of what i've done and said and i'll stand by it no matter what. if i don't stand up for myself, who will, you know?" shayne said, clearly doing a character. a slightly intoxicated, far too excited game show contestant. you kind of loved it.

"my name is ian, and i think you know that, shayne. why are you terrified, y/n?" ian turned to you, egging you on.

"i was a shit head as a kid, i don't know how far back you dug!"

"alright then, let's get into the first round." ian explained the rules of the round, and each of you listened intently despite knowing them well.

"trevor. you tweeted, 'my two [blank] need to [blank] before i [blank blank blank].’ and i will give you a hint, this was a tweet from about a year ago."

"why does he get a hint right away!" you called out.

"he's not very bright, y/n, i'm sure you understand." ian replied, prompting trevor to make a few noises.

"be nice to me?"

ian turned back to trevor, mischievous glint in his eye. "y/n's not very bright, trev, i'm sure you understand."

"be nice to me?" you all started laughing, and once it died down trevor made his guess.

"okay, i'll take 'my two coworkers need to fuck before i explode them both' for five points, alex!"

"i remain ian, but let's reveal that tweet!"

"holy fuck," you said under your breath, realizing he got it right on the money. "how did you manage to remember the exact wording? i don't remember what i had for breakfast yesterday. oh my god, i'm gonna lose so hard at this!" you weren’t even playing it up now, you were actually getting worried. you were going to lose, and by a lot. hopefully you can attribute your lack of skill to the now-infamous gas leak.

"because these two coworkers still haven't fucked and i still want to explode them, honestly," trevor breathed out, seemingly annoyed at the two coworkers in question.

ian giggled behind the podium, a strangely worrisome sound, and you and shayne glanced at each other in shared horror. "trevor,” ian paused, multiplying the level of suspense you were already feeling. “for an extra fifty points, do you want to tell us who the coworkers are? we'll bleep it."

"fifty points?!" shayne yelled, playfully incensed by this rule breaking.

"just take me out back like ol yeller, i beg." you set you head on the podium, which wasn't exactly a comfortable angle, but this wasn't going to be as fun as you thought if ian was going to play dirty the whole game.

the room erupted in laughter as trevor pondered his choice. "no, i won't. i don't want to start anything, fifty points is nothin' compared to my pals at smosh!"

you all booed him, lovingly, and ian giggled again. "shayne, for an extra fifty points, can you guess the coworkers trevor's tweet is about?"

"do you know who it's about?" shayne asked, confused.

"oh, i think everyone in this room does," ian's grin was devilish, relishing in the chaos he was causing. he's been watching too much game changer.

"okay, i'll guess for fifty points. is it angela and amanda?" the room erupted once more, angela's laugh heard loud and clear on every mic.

"incorrect! okay, let's see your post, shayne!"

"wait, i don't get to guess?" you cut in, feeling a little bit excluded from the joke.

"would you like to?" ian asked, earnest, though that devilish smile was still fixed to his mug.

you thought about it for a second. "actually, i'm good. i think my choices are too controversial. y'all aren't ready for my vision."

everyone laughed, and the game moved on.

"shayne. your tweet says: '[blank] is overrated. [blank] is cooler.'"

shayne's silence dragged on, and ian asked if he had a guess. after a beat, shayne stood stock straight up, ready to answer.

"steve, my answer is. 'steak is overrated. chicken is cooler.' for five points."

"let's see..."

ian revealed the next slide, and a slide whistle sound effect played. “oh, that’s too bad shayne. the correct answer was ‘penis is overrated. dick is cooler.’ so close, so close. alright, y/n, it’s your turn!”

you were feeling a little better now that shayne had gotten his wrong. maybe trevor would win, but it didn’t have to be a huge blowout, right?

“y/n, your tweet says ‘i need [blank] to [blank blank] or i will [blank] in [blank blank].’ this seems evil, y/n, if i’m being honest.” ian’s wicked smirk was still firmly planted; he was playing dirtier than you ever thought him capable of. 

“what’s genuinely crazy is i’ve been so worried that i would not remember anything i’ve ever tweeted, but i actually do remember this one!” you laughed hard and loud, but then you remembered you did in fact have to tell everyone what it said. you could lie, but they’d just reveal it after anyway, and you had made a big stink about knowing it now… all you could do was fill in the damn blanks. “okay, it says ‘i need noomf–”

“you need what?” shayne asked, incredulous.

“noomf, it means ‘not one of my followers’ instead of oomf, which is ‘one of my followers’. anyway, ‘i need noomf to fuck off or i will piss in his kickstart’.” you covered your face with your hands, genuinely embarrassed. this would all be a good laugh after shooting wrapped, but in the moment you just wanted to scream a bit.

ian decided to go full little shit mode and not even make a comment, just click to the next slide showing that you were correct. every word. “five points for y/n!”

“oh, fuck, i forgot i was getting points for that. i’ll stop moping now!” you laughed, pushing yourself back into your camera persona, bright and light and happy. you could feel spencer’s daggers in the back of your skull all the same.

✰ .ᐟ

everyone broke for lunch after the finishing the shoot, and angela and courtney were the first to harass you. 

“bro, you tweeted that you would piss in his kickstart?” courtney started. 

“you guys don’t follow each other on socials?” angela then asked. 

court took another turn next, “do you guys not talk outside of work at all?” 

“no! they only talk about work so they always talk through slack!” angela was kind enough to explain your point from lunch the other day.

you stood there, tapping your foot. a bit comical, but a flair for the dramatic never hurt anybody, especially not in this industry. “are we done here? can i go get my food now?” you asked, no venom. “here, let’s just eat together and you can ask all your silly little questions. can’t promise i’ll have an answer for everything, but i’ll do what i can.”

you all lined up at the catering tables and grabbed some food, then found your way to an empty table to start this awful discussion.

you decided some rules needed to be put in place, because as much as you loved angela and courtney, you really didn’t want this to blow up into some ‘big thing’. coworker feuds happen in every office setting, it’s inevitable. it doesn’t need to be a whole situation, in your opinion.

“okay, before we start i’m going to lay some ground rules. you can ask whatever questions you want, but i’m allowed to not answer certain ones. whatever is said at this table, remains at this table, forever. and finally, i beg y’all to speak at a normal volume and not freak out for no reason. i do not need the whole company knowing my business. i’m sure you understand.”

they both nodded, and you decided to get courtney up to speed in case they had a question angela had asked you at lunch the other day, which was likely. now that you thought about it, angela was the only person you had really talked about it with. no one else you worked with seemed to mind, or care, so you didn’t think you’d ever need to answer any questions about it.

“court, before we start, angela actually ambushed me about this the other day so i do already have a few frequently asked questions answered. no, it isn’t a bit. we don’t have any friendship at all. we do not speak outside of work. i’ve never seen him outside of work. we do not have each other’s numbers. we do not follow each other on social media. we aren’t secretly dating. yes, we do hate each other, and, yes, it’s mutual. but… no, i don’t have a reason why.” you were fairly out of breath by the end of your rant, and courtney gave you a moment to catch back up.

“you don’t have a reason why? how can you both hate each other for no reason?” their voice was soft, caring. it burned.

a sigh escaped you. “as far as i know, neither me nor spencer have a ‘reason’ for hating each other. but it’s just a truth at this point. we hate each other, so we don’t interact outside of work. we play nice for the camera, but only because it wouldn’t really be entertaining if we didn’t. some truths are just truths. the sky is blue, the grass is green, and me and spencer hate each other.” you took a few bites of the salad you grabbed from the line, surprised at how good the dressing was. “holy shit, this dressing is fantastic,” you mumbled, hoping, in vain, to prompt a conversation change.

“like i said, i thought the bickering you guys did on camera was an inside joke. i didn’t know there was real anger behind it,” angela said, seeming a bit sad at this revelation.

you realized once again that you hadn’t actually had an honest conversation about this with anyone. you had never taken the time to flesh out this charade you were playing. “i’m not even sure the anger is real.” you said solemnly, quiet as a mouse. “i think it started as a bit. i’m not sure when it turned real, but it is. i guess.”

angela put her arm around you, sensing your mood drop. “hey, hey. it’s alright. you going to be okay, babe?”

courtney put their hand on yours, which you held. you felt like you were naked on a stage – feeling too vulnerable all too suddenly. after a second longer, you pulled yourself away from both of them. “i’m okay, it’s okay. can we change the topic, though? i… guess i’m not ready to talk about it, or something.”

you zoned out for the rest of the conversation.

✰ .ᐟ

when the day had finally ended, you felt the most immense relief you’ve felt in all your damn life.

finally. time to go home and dick around on your guitar. today provided a lot of feelings for a hopeful writing session. 

everyone at smosh knew you played guitar, but no one knew you wrote original music too. it was the easiest way to process what you were feeling. and if it sounded bad, then it sounded bad. at least you felt better afterwards. you never recorded anything you wrote, because it was a form of therapy for you. you let it all out, you cry, you scream, whatever. then you worked on healing. this was your process, and you loved it.

you were planning out some verses mentally when shayne caught up to you on the way to your car. “hey, y/n! i have a strange question.”

you turned, surprised by his appearance. “sure, shayne. what’s up?” 

“are you seeing anyone right now?”

“why, are you and courtney looking for a third?” you raised an eyebrow, which had shayne giggling. you continued, “no, i’m single. why?” 

“no reason!” shayne yelled, and promptly sprinted away.

“okay, see you tomorrow, i guess!” you shouted after him, knowing he probably couldn’t hear you. for such a small man he had a seemingly large stride. he was already halfway across the parking lot when you finished your sentence. “what the hell is this job, anyway?” you muttered, trying to find the melody you had thought of earlier in the day as you drove home in blissful silence.

✰ .ᐟ

alex: yoooo

spencer: what’s up?

alex: kiana’s friend is so your type it’s criminal

spencer: ok?

alex: i’m serious dude she’s like your dream girl!!

spencer: ok?

alex: hi spencer this is your best friend kiana, you have a date with my friend tomorrow at 7pm at our fav chili’s, ok love you!

spencer: i’d rather not

alex: she said shut up and be there or she’s dumping your kickstart stash

spencer: you are both evil.

alex: <3

✰ .ᐟ

you slept like shit last night. again. the past few nights were just not kind to you, and you could tell it was obvious.

“whoa, y/n… do you need to borrow some concealer?” courtney asked upon seeing you in the kitchen this morning. “i’m sure someone has a shade match in the building.”

“gee, thanks, court.” you laughed weakly to yourself, knowing she had nothing but good intentions. “i’ve been having trouble sleeping lately, not sure what’s going on.” you turned around and sighed into your coffee mug, exhausted. “maybe my body is trying to tell me something.”

courtney smiled, then came to lean against the counter next to you.

“you’re single, right?” they questioned, eyes bright.

you sighed again. “yes, just like i told your husband yesterday, i am single.”

“do you have plans tonight?” 

“other than sitting on my couch with my guitar, probably not. perhaps i’ll watch a movie. who’s to say? the world is my oyster.” 

they rolled their eyes at you, but leaned in closer to whisper. “our favorite chili’s, tonight, 7pm. you’re going on a blind date with someone i know very personally, who is perfect for you.”

she was out of the kitchen before you could pick your jaw up off the floor to protest.

✰ .ᐟ

you stood in your bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror. what the hell was going on. courtney had sent you a text fifteen minutes ago, a reminder of why you were standing in your bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror. you had a blind date at chili’s in 45 minutes. what the hell was going on. 

if you were in an alternate universe, perhaps all the dots you were connecting in your brain would turn out to be correct. you felt like that bit in buzzfeed unsolved. 

i’ve connected the dots. 

you haven’t connected shit! 

in an alternate universe, your friends beating the truth out of you about your feud with spencer, then turning around and orchestrating a blind date for you would mean something. and it would mean they were setting you up with spencer. just for a moment, just a sliver of a second, you imagined that universe.

you imagine it all working out.

but then you pull yourself out of it, and start actually getting ready for your date. 

he was probably just another improv actor with a nose ring. and he was probably nice. cute, even. but you couldn’t stop thinking about brown curly hair, piercing eyes, a hydroflask full of kickstart. 

a green smosh hat. a carhartt jacket. stubble. glasses. you loved his glasses, and secretly cursed him when he would wear his contacts. spencer.

your phone vibrated against the counter, painfully reuniting you with reality. “shit.”

you fumbled to answer the call, still feeling lost in the syrupy haze of that alternate universe of yours. “hey, court.” 

“are you on your way? find my friends says you’re still at your place!” they rushed out, and you pulled your phone away from your face to see you had less than 15 minutes to be ready and out the door.

“shit! sorry, i didn’t realize how late it got. i’m finishing up now, i’ll be on my way before you know it.” the silence on the other end was deafening. “i promise! but i have to get off the phone to get ready, okay?” 

“fine. please send me a photo of your outfit before you leave. i love you! bye!” courtney ended the call, and you sighed.

“let’s get this over with.” you mumbled to your empty bathroom.

✰ .ᐟ

spencer was pissed. if his friends didn’t suddenly decide to meddle in his love life, he wouldn’t be on a random side street, a mere three miles from chili’s, replacing his flat fire. at 7:08 pm. he didn’t even want to go on this date, but he also didn’t want to be a dick and show up late. alex and kiana didn’t share any info about this mystery girl so he couldn’t text her to let her know. he decided to call alex as he was getting ready to hoist the spare tire out of his trunk. 

“aren’t you on a date right now?!” alex shouted down the phone, no greeting. spencer rolled his eyes.

“chill, i got a flat tire. i’m down the road, like eight minutes max if traffic is kind to me. can you please let my date know i’m not standing her up, i just have to throw the donut on my car really quick.” he was fiddling with the tire iron while he spoke, suddenly nervous and upset at the prospect of hurting this mystery girl’s feelings. he shoved the emotion down and nestled the phone between his ear and shoulder, a smidge tighter than before. “please just let her know.”

“okay, okay.” alex took a breath in, and spencer could tell they’re relieved that the date isn’t a disaster, but only getting there kind of is. “i’ll let her know.”

they said goodbye, and spencer got back to work on the tire. 

elsewhere, alex texted courtney. 

alex: hey spencer got a flat tire. should be there in like 10-15

courtney: ok i’ll let y/n know!

alex: he called me and i nearly shat my pants

courtney: understandable lol if she called me 10 mins in i’d also be panicking

alex then texted kiana.

alex: spencer is late bc he got a flat tire i’m gonna bomb him

kiana: now, now!! it will work out in the end, grasshopper

alex: dont be weird

kiana: says u

✰ .ᐟ

you looked at your phone again. 7:20. you were on your second glass of water, munching on your chips and salsa and sighing. people were starting to stare at you. look at that poor girl, sipping her water, waiting for someone who isn’t showing up. surely she knows, they thought, surely she knows he’s isn’t coming.

unfortunately, you were still holding out hope. for some reason. you didn’t even want this, your friends just dropped it on you. but now that you were here, you felt hopeful. 

most people who know you wouldn’t exactly call you a romantic, but somewhere buried deep inside you, you longed for companionship. everyone did, to some degree – it was human nature. so you decided that at 7:30, you’d leave. 

even if tearing yourself from the booth would burn like wildfire.

you looked at your phone once more. 7:22. you’d been brooding in silence, alone at this table, and alone in this world. a vibration startled you out of it.

courtney: hey he’s almost there!!! he got a flat tire he should be there in about five mins, ok?? i’m so sorry and so is he!!

your heart rate picked up, that hope reigniting and spreading a warm fire throughout your body. you weren’t being stood up. good.

y/n: ok! thank you for updating me <3

courtney: of course bb i love you sm! have fun! text me all the deets!

as you smiled and steadied your fingers to type a reply, an all too familiar voice rang out. “are you being stood up at chili’s?” it asks.

you involuntarily rolled your eyes, all too easily sliding into this role you play. no one could say you weren’t a good actor. because here you were, slipping under that mask that fit so comfortably. playing a character. because an hour ago, you were hoping it would be him. you wanted it to be him. but now, he was here. which meant you had a role to play, and you would play it well. you’d give him an oscar award-winning performance. 

“please explain how my activities outside of the office are any of your business, spencer.” you deadpanned. it didn’t hit like you wanted it to. “he’s late.”

“scoot. i’m hungry.” he says, and you stare at him.

“i’m sorry?” you admonished.

“scootch over. have you ordered yet?” he asks, casual as all get out. like this was normal, or reasonable. 

you both know your roles. you know your lines. you’ve been off-book for years. what was he doing? he was going so far off script, ad-libbing, completely disregarding the words written for you, the ones you’d both studied and memorized. you were an improv comedian, and yes and-ing was never something you struggled with. but this wasn’t supposed to be improv. this was scripted. heavily. this was not reality tv, this was not whose line, this was a 40-minute sitcom with strict character archetypes, and you both knew your roles. 

while you waited in vain for the non-existent director to yell ‘cut!’, you found yourself moving over and letting him slide into the booth. it didn’t occur to you to just tell him to sit on the opposite side, which was empty. 

despite the warmth of the evening and the restaurant, you felt a shiver up and down your spine.

your server, carissa, came back to the table, and she looked relieved that your ‘date’ had finally arrived. she was probably about 20 years old, and her whole vibe said, “if he doesn’t show up, i’ll kill him for you.” 

“took you long enough, dude,” was her greeting of choice. spencer looked surprised, which caused a laugh to escape you. “what would you like to drink?”

spencer seemed a bit lost for words, but managed to say “just a water, please,” after a not-entirely inaudible swallow.

carissa turned her attention back to you, “did you want to order now? or does mister late as fuck need some more time?” she gestured at spencer with her pen, her voice full of humor. it was entirely opposite of the darker voice she used on spencer.

you loved this girl. “easy on him, carissa. i’m sure he has a good reason.”

spencer looked at you, and you realized you probably should have specified that he actually wasn’t the person you were waiting on. your mind drifts back to that slice of an alternate universe, the one you wanted to slot yourself into for longer than just a fleeting moment. your heart quickened its pace once more, and you silently willed it to calm down.

he doesn’t like you, you thought, solemnly. he likes chili’s. he’s probably here to meet kiana or something. the thought of kiana joining you at dinner was a happy one, usually. you loved her. she was bright and bubbly and she was incredibly smart. you loved listening to her talk. but right now, it almost felt like that little alternate universe and the universe you’re currently stuck in were overlapping for a moment. you wanted to keep this feeling. hold it close.

you zoned back in when spencer started talking, both of you unsure how long you had been looking at each other for. it might have been the first time you both really looked at each other. the glancing and the glaring around the office was short lived. never more than a few seconds. this look felt like it stretched on for years, unending. this wasn’t just the first time you both looked at each other, it might also be the first time you really saw each other.

and, if you were just a bit more unhinged, you’d have said that it felt like home.

“i had a flat tire. i was right down the road but i had to put the spare on, so i’m much later than i wanted to be. i try to be early to dates, but it seems like the world was betting against me tonight.” spencer looked at his lap, sheepish, all of the sudden. it was cute. a soft expression you had no clue he was even capable of. it suited him, emotion. or, emotions other than anger.

“see? that’s a perfectly reasonable excuse,” you replied, which prompted a gasp from spencer. 

you find the roles shifting, no longer are you and spencer coworkers trapped in an office, glaring at each other and attempting niceties on camera. now, you were stepping into the roles of love interests in a rom-com with 80s flair. the quiet, misunderstood girl, and the edgy yet likeable boy. fake dating for some reason or another, only to fall in love for real in the end. the it was always you trope.

you could play this character just as easily as you could play the hateful coworker. maybe this role would win you a sag award. you set it next to your academy award on your imaginary awards shelf.

“it’s not an excuse! it’s a reason. an explanation, if you will.” spencer said, faux-horror in his voice.

“and i will.” you shot back, playing into it. you could fit so comfortably here.

carissa faked a yawn, and you ask her for a triple dipper – mozzarella sticks, big mouth bites, and chicken tenders. spencer had no comment on this, which made you quite happy, oddly enough. 

once carissa had walked away, spencer turned his body to face you a little more, and you felt closed in in the best way possible. he was suffocating you with his presence, but it felt good. safe, even.

you settled into the booth, a little taken aback by his sudden attention. honestly, you paid more attention to him around the office than you would ever admit to anyone. you both had desks in the same pod so you were in proximity at all times, and you looked. a lot. and maybe you pined. maybe… just maybe, you had been pining this whole time. 

“what’s goin’ on up there?” spencer asked, nodding toward you.

“i don’t know,” you replied. it was the truth. you weren’t sure what was going on in your brain, just that you had no urge to stop it. more like an urge to give in.

carissa reappeared with a glass of ice water for spencer. he whispered a soft “thank you” in her direction, but his eyes never left yours. she walked away without a response.

“y’know, i was actually supposed to meet someone here tonight. i should probably tell alex what’s going on.”

your ears perked up at the mention of alex. “why would you tell alex?”

“they’re my best friend?” spencer said, eyes now on his phone. “also, it was a blind date. i don’t have her number,” he explained, frowning. “or her name.” his thumbs were flying across the keyboard, and you watched in silence. you were suddenly enraptured by his hands. 

then, it clicked. “oh my fucking god!” you groaned, which caused spencer to turn his focus back on you. 

“what? what’s wrong?” there was genuine concern in his voice, something you had never heard from him. it stoked the fire inside you, pulling it back up to a dangerous roar. this chili’s would erupt in flames if this continued on for much longer.

in lieu of a response, you simply grabbed your phone off the table, calling courtney and putting the call on speaker.

“hey! how’s it going?” courtney asked, speech stilted with nerves.

“what’s my blind date’s name, courtney?”

you heard spencer mutter something under his breath.

“you’ll know him when you see him! like i said, he had a flat tire. wait, it’s been, like, forty minutes, why isn’t he there yet?” their sentence got quieter as they moved through it, processing in real time.

spencer leaned in, clearly only getting closer to the mic so courtney could hear him, but you’d like to think he wanted to be closer to you, too.

“i’m here, courtney.” was all he said.

“neither of you sound happy…” they moped.

you rolled your eyes affectionately. they meant well, and you said as much. “i know you meant well, honey, but me and spencer have absolutely no chemistry.” there it was again. you switched back to your original role, the one you had spent far too much time in, the one that was closer to home. “this wasn’t a good idea and i think you know that.”

you dared to peek at spencer, who was looking right at you, forlorn. “yeah, court. i appreciate the team effort, but unfortunately me and y/n are just not compatible.” his voice was tight. angry. and just like that, spencer was also back in his original role. perhaps it felt like home to him too, and he also didn’t care for change. some things are just true. the sky is blue, the grass is green, and you and spencer agnew hate each other.

for once, you found yourself wishing it wasn't true.

✰ .ᐟ

once you and courtney hung up, you asked carissa for the triple dipper to be to-go, and you and spencer went your separate ways. the whole drive home, the car was silent and so was your brain. normally you’d be crafting melodies and writing bridges, ever the artist. but tonight your brain was turned off. you had to keep it that way, purposefully silencing the thoughts that threatened to burst through. you couldn’t think about the looks spencer gave you. you couldn’t think about the smell of his cologne when he leaned close to talk to courtney. you couldn’t think about the way he apologized. 

i’m sorry about this, y/n. i know that we don’t like each other but i wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

this?

the whole, blind-date-with-my-enemy thing. 

spencer, why are we enemies?

i don’t know, y/n. but i think we both know it needs to stay that way.

it seemed like he had been mentally policing his word choice. careful, stoic. there was emotion in his voice, but not in his face. his jaw was tight. spencer felt bad. despite it all, he didn’t want to hurt you. this was a rejection, plain and simple, but he was being merciful. though, it also felt forced. like this isn’t what he really wants, but it’s how things have to be. a law of the universe, at this point. an intrinsic truth. we can’t be anything other than coworkers and enemies. anything else would be disastrous.

you felt silly, catastrophizing like this. 

as you turned your key in the lock of your front door, your guitar called to you from the corner of the living room.

let it out, it seemed to say, feel your feelings, so you can move on.

and so you did. you changed into some sweatpants and an old crewneck, sat yourself on the floor of your apartment, and got to writing. 

perhaps you would one day add a grammy to your little imaginary awards shelf. an academy award for your coworker enemy character, the breakout role. the sag award for your little lovesick puppy character you got to play tonight, at chili’s. and a grammy. for you. no character, no facade, just you.

but you’d have to record yourself to achieve that. and now wasn't the time for bravery, now was the time for processing and moving on. 

✰ .ᐟ

the next morning, you woke up to a small barrage of messages. mostly courtney apologizing. an apology from shayne as well. a text from ang asking if you were okay. alex, kiana, and amanda also messaged you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to keep scrolling. until your eyes caught on something new. an unsaved number, who had texted you a mere minute before you woke up.

unsaved: hey. sorry again about last night. 

your heart leapt into your throat, and that fire under your skin was back. you put your phone face down on your nightstand and promptly took a shower.

upon your arrival at work, you were reminded of how fucking gossipy this damn office was. people were throwing you apologetic looks all day, clearly informed on the situation. thirty minutes before your first shoot, ian pulled you to the side.

“hey, y/n. um, is there anything you wanted to talk about? or let me know about?” ian asked, clearly uncomfortable.

you looked at him in confusion, head tilted to the side. “i… don’t think so?” you said it like a question, because it kind of was one. surely one blind date arranged by other coworkers that didn’t even result in a relationship wasn’t cause for concern, right?

“okay, i’ll just ask then. are you and spencer in a relationship? it’s okay, if so, but there’s a lot of paper–”

you cut him off, astounded he even thought to ask such an insane question. “whoa, whoa, whoa. me and spencer are not dating. why on earth gave you that idea?”

ian blushed, and it was quite cute. he clearly felt a little out of his depth, which is silly considering the amount of coworker relationships at smosh. he’s done this at least three times, you think he’d be better at it.

“well i've heard whisperings around the office that you two went on a date last night,” he said.

“and you thought that a date between us would end well?” you asked, a bit astounded. “i'm not even sure why court and them even set it up, it's fairly well known that we don't like each other in the slightest.” internally, you were thinking about the low tone spencer had when he was next to you. boxing you in, commanding your attention. maybe you had been pining this whole time. but that was not anyone else’s business, so you would continue to keep those feelings behind a quadruple-padlocked door, far in the back corner of your brain.

“y/n, can i talk to you as a friend and not as a boss or coworker?” ian dropped his voice, a soft smile on his face.

“of course, ian.”

“i think you know damn well that you and spencer are made for each other.”

“i–”

he cuts you off. “you might have everyone else fooled, and you might even have yourself fooled. but to a degree, i think there’s a part of you that wants that. and it’s okay to want that. to want spencer. it’s okay to want. but if you ask me–”

“i didn’t–”

“but if you ask me,” he bulldozes, committing to saying his piece. “i think it’s also okay to have. it’s right in front of you for the taking, and as much as you can deny it, i think you also know that.”

you were quietly stunned by this emotional, introspective, hopeless romantic version of ian. “i know i can want, ian. i know more than well enough what wanting feels like.” a sigh escapes you, suddenly exhausted. “but i can’t have. not this time, not this one. i can have something else, later down the road. but i can’t have this. i’m not allowed to have this.”

“why not?”

you stayed silent. you hadn’t thought about the why not of it all. it was another one of those things. spencer was an enemy. spencer was off limits. he was forbidden. prohibited. a thing you could want, but never, ever have.

“i just can’t, ian.” you sighed, resigned. you were getting tired of fighting this battle, but it wasn’t like you had a choice.

“okay, y/n.” his voice is soft, and he puts a hand on your shoulder. “well, when you can, i’m sure he’ll be waiting for you.”

“i’d never ask that of him.”

“you don’t have to.” ian wrapped you in a hug, and then walked back to whichever office he came from, leaving you in a pile of emotions at the end of the hall.

“what the fuck is happening,” you whispered to yourself. the world was turning upside down, and you were starting to get quite motion sick.

you sat down on a nearby sofa, checking the time. you had to get your mic pack set up in about five minutes, so you tried to use that time to regulate your breathing. in, two, three, four. out, two, three, four. you knew you were shooting a pit video, but you couldn’t remember what it was or who was going to be in it with you. was it a reddit stories today? no, that was thursday… 

“y/n?” erin dougal called. your head snapped up, your thoughts finally simmering to a normal volume. a distraction was welcome, and erin was always up to something.

“yeah, what’s up?” you replied, hoping for some sort of insane tiktok pitch that tommy dreamt up, or some gossip about the caterer she had a thing for. 

“ready for the shoot?” right, your job. guess those five minutes passed faster than you thought. at least you had calmed down substantially.

“oh. yeah, sorry. what are we shooting again?” you hoped she wouldn't rag on you too much for forgetting your shoot schedule. surely she was aware of your current goings-on.

she gaped at you in response. “seriously? we've only been gearing up for this shoot for, like, two months.” 

fuck. today was courtney’s hide and seek shoot. fuck. you had been so wrapped up in the bullshit of this week you had forgotten to even plan a place to hide. 

“oh! right, sorry. not sure how i forgot that.” you stood up, trying to collect yourself, embarrassed.

you followed erin into the small parking lot right outside the office, where everyone was waiting to be let inside. she debriefed you on the general rules, which have been the same since the first hide and seek video. you nodded along, and tried to figure out where the hell you were going to hide.

before you knew it, everyone was rushing inside. you decided to go up into the weird little attic space duran usually hides in, knowing he wasn't set to be in the video. it was a guaranteed easy find, and you didn't really want to be alone with your thoughts for very long. you had a history of being found extremely early on, and you weren’t planning to break that streak. especially not when you had so many other things to deal with right now.

but the universe was never on your side. you climbed up the slightly unstable ladder, using your phone’s flashlight to look for a spot, when you saw him. spencer was already up here, because of course he was.

“no.” was all he said.

“c’mon, this week has been shitty enough. i don't have any other ideas.” you whispered, knowing there wasn't much time left. “i can't find another spot, there's only, like, 20 seconds left.”

“no, y/n.” he was firm in his answer, but you were just as stubborn.

you gathered a bit of courage, and made your way over to him, ducking in the tight space. you sat down right next to him, a fraction of a fraction of a centimeter between you. “yes.”

he rolled his eyes and rested his head on the painted cinder block wall behind him, lids fluttered closed, too tired to fight. you understood that feeling all too well. “fine.”

✰ .ᐟ

turns out, courtney miller is exceptionally terrible at hide and seek. you’d both been waiting in silence to be found for over thirty minutes. if you had known how long you’d have to sit in such close proximity to spencer, you’d have made several different choices. starting with calling out of work today. 

“jesus, court.” you whispered. then, turning to spencer, you spoke just a tad louder. “we’re supposed be recording confessionals, you know.”

“i'm aware,” spencer said. no malice in his voice, though you could tell he tried. his mask was slipping.

you pulled out your phone and clipped your little selfie light onto it. “hey guys, y/n and spencer here. it’s been over thirty minutes at this point, and i don't think courtney’s even entered the kitchen, let alone this fuckass room.”

“fuckass is crazy,” spencer says, in that giggly, drawn out way he always does. you always liked when he did that. it made your stomach do somersaults, for a reason you could never pinpoint.

“are we allowed to hide together? i know lisa and jeremy technically did in shayne’s hide and seek video.” you ask, purely for the content of it all. you couldn’t care less about any of the rules right now. you were next to spencer, and it felt right. fuck the rules. 

“i'm not sur–” a noise erupted from the kitchen, and spencer paused. “they’re hereeee,” he singsonged. he was disgustingly cute.

“gotta go!” you said, quickly ending the recording and putting your phone away. 

spencer looked at you, and you looked at him. faces mere inches apart. you both heard the door to the kitchen closing, signifying courtney’s exit. you were both safe, for now. no need to stay quiet. but neither of you spoke. 

the silence carried on, seconds to minutes. you started to really look at spencer, dissecting his beauty.

the shine in his eyes, even in this dim, unflattering light. the ghost of a smile on his face. he's the first to turn away.

“y/n,” spencer near begged. “please.”

“what?” you asked, genuine.

he looked back at you. then he leaned in, so close you could feel his breath when he spoke again. “you're killing me, y/n. you know what you're doing.”

you angled your face, just so, closer than you've been to anyone in a long time. closer than you've ever been to spencer agnew. “oh? what am i doing, spencer?” you batted your eyelashes at him.

he inched closer, prompting your noses to touch. it sent a shooting pulse of sparks through your blood. “tell me to stop, y/n.” he whispered, borderline tremulous.

“why?” you didn’t retreat, and you certainly didn’t oblige him.

“please, tell me to stop.” he was still staring into you, through your eyes and deep into that corner of your mind. the quadruple-padlocked door. he held every key, and you could see it all play out: him unlocking every single one with ease. blatant disregard for the consequences of his reckless actions.

you let him. no, you encouraged him. “why can't you stop yourself, spencer?” 

you knew full well courtney could burst in at any moment. you're acutely aware that you're both at work right now, in the middle of a shoot. you couldn’t seem to find the strength to give a fuck.

“because you're in charge, y/n. you always have been. i’ve been following your lead since day one. so tell me to stop.” 

you moved your eyes to his lips, finally tearing away from that gaze. “go,” you whispered.

that was all he needed to crash his lips into yours.

it’s not a great kiss. it never is when you're both this pent up. it's either too aggressive or too soft, never exactly what you're expecting, or wanting. but it enveloped you in that now familiar fire, and you didn’t even care. this could be the worst kiss of your life and you would still think of it fondly years down the line. because it's spencer. and you wanted spencer. and he, seemingly, wanted you too. so you want. and you have. just for a moment.

your brain finally rebooted and you immediately started kissing back, forceful. spencer’s hands found your body, and they wandered. he set them on your hips, then moved one to your neck. then one in your hair and the other on your face. you only pulled back from lack of oxygen. out of pure necessity.

as you both sat there, foreheads pressed against each other, chests heaving, you started to think about what you've done. he didn't just unlock that door, he blew it off the hinges. you weren’t sure you could ever deny yourself the feeling of kissing spencer agnew. not anymore, not now. you've become addicted on the very first hit, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 

a loud bang on the opposite side of the wall had both of you separating. only an inch or so between the two of you, knowing you're about to be caught. you willed your heart rate down. trying to breathe slow, deep breaths. “time to be found i guess,” you whispered. 

spencer’s head finds its place on the back wall again. he seemed defeated. tired. but happy. “yeah.”

✰ .ᐟ

two months passed and neither you nor spencer spoke about what happened during courtney’s hide and seek shoot. there's still animosity all around, and you expect that your oscar will be stripped away due to your performance. it’s exhausting, keeping this fucking thing going. you had the one thing you always denied yourself, for just a moment, and that’s all you’ll ever have. you’re well aware of this, and were doing what you could to fully come to terms with it.

but spencer. he seemed so unbothered. like it was nothing to him, like you were nothing to him, like this was all just an elaborate prank. cut the fucking cameras.

tell me to stop, y/n. please. 

christ. your alarm had been turned off five minutes ago, but you remained in bed, under the covers. showing up at work was never a thing you dreaded. you fucking loved your job. and all your coworkers, who were now your friends and your family. you even loved the fans, deranged as they are.

but these days, it was weighing on you. getting up, going in and pretending you don’t know the taste and rhythm of spencer agnew’s sinful fucking mouth. it was hell. you wanted more, and he wanted nothing to do with you. and maybe you should have expected that. maybe this was all on you, for getting your hopes up for even a moment. 

you’re in charge, y/n. you always have been.

you pulled yourself out of bed and into the shower. you turned the water as hot as it could go, grateful to experience a different kind of pain for even a few minutes.

i’ve been following your lead since day one. so tell me to stop.

once your skin had been sufficiently burned, and your actual shower duties were complete, you decided to dress a little nicer today. even though you knew the only plan you had was answering emails, editing scripts, and some social media stuff. 

the shower really helped. the day seemed different, brighter. you felt a little less trepidation about work. you weren’t sure what magic was doled out by your rinky dink shower head, but you were thankful for it all the same.

✰ .ᐟ

pretty much every cast member greeted you at the door. suddenly, that trepidation was back. “what’s going on?” 

“did you not check your phone?” shayne asked, a laugh tumbling out of him.

you thought about it. you hadn’t, actually. you turned your alarm off, showered in silence for the first time in a long time, then drove to work in silence as well. “i guess not. why? is everything okay?” 

angela let out a gleeful scream. “you and spencer have the fandom in a tizzy!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands with joy.

your brain went all fuzzy. “me and… spencer?” your mind drifted back to the kiss, and you felt the heat rising on your face. that was embarrassing. everyone was here, and they were all looking at you, and you knew that your blush was violently visible. 

“from the hide and seek video!” chanse added, as though there were any other point of reference.

you started to get a bit light-headed, and you sat down. “i’m confused.”

“why?” courtney asks, coming to sit next to you. it seemed everyone could sense your discomfort, so they dissipated, leaving courtney to work their magic.

“why would anyone care about me and spencer?” you asked. in your defense, you hadn’t watched the video. you couldn’t. you didn’t even watch back the single confessional you recorded, just sent it over to andre. you didn’t delete it though. it sat in your camera roll, heavy on your mind, and taunting you every time you opened your photos app.

they laughed, a soft sound, reassuring. “babe, i need you to watch the video.”

you groaned in response, feeling like a petulant child. like you were going to stomp your feet and cry if you didn’t get your way.  “i don’t want to, courtney. i don’t need to see how fucking red was my face was. i don’t need to see how pathetic i look.”

you hadn’t told a single soul what happened in that little attic crawl space. you didn’t want to – it was a blissful secret. it was easier to hold it in, the truth that you kissed him and it felt like flying and dying and living and breathing and everything all at the same exact time. because if you ever admitted that out loud, you think you’d pass away from the sheer amount of love in your voice when you say it. he was turning you into a hopeless romantic, and you’d barely said seven words to the man since he completely ruined your life.

because that’s what he had done, wasn’t it? you were ruined for anyone else. how could you move on, how could you kiss someone else when spencer agnew made alpha centauri appear behind your eyes. a star system, exploding to life. and you knew, somewhere inside, that that was the only time in your life you’d ever be able to feel something like that. you weren’t even sure you’d want to feel it again. it’s been nothing short of agonizing.

“y/n, can i ask you something?” they questioned, ever patient.

“yes.”

“why do you keep denying yourself good things?” her hand was on your thigh, a soft comfort to offset the sting of her question. “please, i'll show you the clip right here, and i’ll be next to you the whole time. if you want me to turn it off, i will. but will you try for me? please?”

you had never struggled with watching the videos you were in. granted, you usually could just focus on someone else in the shot. this was just you, and spencer. courtney would be there in the background, maybe brennan. but mostly it was you and spencer. and if you didn’t look at yourself, you’d look at him. you weren’t sure which was worse, but you agreed. 

“rip the fucking band-aid off already, i beg of you.” 

she let out a small squeal of excitement, opening her phone. you were only mildly surprised to see the clip was already pulled up. 

courtney pressed play on the video, and they handed you the phone. you watched, captivated. you decided to look at yourself. your blush was evident, and once you noticed that, you couldn’t bear to look any longer, so you looked at spencer. he was staring at you, while you stared ahead, giggling at whatever courtney said. his eyes were fixed on your profile, a smile bursting at the seams of his mouth, threatening a chelsea grin. he was smiling. he begged you to stop him, to stop this. spencer begged you not to feed the fire, but you had thrown gasoline right into it.

the thought… excited you.

“oh, hey,” courtney chirped happily, causing you to tear your eyes away from the screen of her phone. she paused the video and slipped her phone back into her pocket. “i’ll leave you to it,” they stood from their chair, pushing it in and giving you a look of hopefulness. you smiled back, halfheartedly.

“hi, spencer.” you murmured, finally meeting his eyes.

“hi, y/n.” he parroted, walking slowly toward you. he seemed hesitant, but… hopeful? maybe you felt the same way. “can i talk to you for a moment?” he gestured to the recently vacated chair on your left, and you nodded. you couldn’t trust yourself to talk at the moment.

he sat down next to you, entirely too casual. he’s slouched in the chair, hands in the pockets of his jacket. “seems like we did a number on a few people, huh?” he started. still too casual. you braced yourself for impact: we still can’t do this, though. we’re not friends. let alone lovers. 

what he actually said, though, hit you harder than 400 asteroids. “you certainly did a fucking number on me.”

“uh, what?” is all you could muster, confused, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

he sat back up, then leaned into your space. again. he likes to do that. normally, you’d feel too caged, too claustrophobic. but for some reason, it felt like a blessing. a near-familiar comfort in this whirlwind you were caught up in. “y/n, do you remember our first date?” 

your defense mechanism, sarcasm, clicked on in your brain. “if you call that a date, i’m embarrassed for you, spencer.” 

“so you do remember it.”

“yes, spencer. i remember when you accosted me at chili’s.”

he laughed, and you know that it’s such a beautiful sound, but it still hurt. “and do you remember what i told you at the end of the night?”

“you said you didn’t know why we were enemies, but that we both knew it needed to stay that way.”

“exactly. y/n, do you know why i refuse to sit next to you in videos? or why i very frequently cut you off when you’re talking? or why we’ve never been the guests on reddit stories together?”

“no,” you breathe out, honest. “no, i don’t know why.”

“it’s because of what happened in that godforsaken hide and seek video. because i knew, given the proximity, i’d do that. i’d stare at you, zoned out of whatever conversation was happening around me. smiling like a fucking idiot.”

you didn’t speak, feeling overwhelmed at his sudden confession.

“i have a cool guy persona that i try quite hard to keep up, and i didn’t want millions of people seeing me, fucking, splayed out like that. all my feelings on display in 4k. since the day you walked in that fucking door, i’ve been forcing myself to hate you, forcing myself to be your ‘enemy’, playing along with this stupid fucking charade we both seemingly crafted out of nowhere. being that close to you, it makes that whole game a lot harder to play.”

“spencer,” you said, attempting to alleviate some pressure. “you don’t have to–”

“i’m serious, y/n. i’m not mad, i’m not even upset. frankly, i’m relieved. it’s out there, people have seen it, and i’m happy about it. i’m tired of this stupid cat and mouse game, y/n. this shit makes me feel like sisyphus. i’m tired of pushing the stupid fake hatred boulder up the mountain. and i think you are, too. i’ve seen it. i’ve felt it.” he whispered the last part, like it was meant just for him. he was thinking about the kiss. reliving it, the tension, the heat, the closeness. his lips on yours, his hands in your hair. he was thinking about it, and he wasn’t thinking it was embarrassing or gross. he didn’t regret it. he didn’t regret you.

you leaned into him, bringing your nose right up to his, face closer than need be for a conversation between two people who claim to hate each other. “tell me to stop, spencer,” you tried.

he looked at you, eyes wide and shining again. his gaze flickered down to your mouth, then back to your eyes. “fuck it,” he stated, and then his lips were on you. 

you were once again kissing spencer agnew, and you were once again doing it at the fucking office. but you didn’t care about that, couldn’t care about that, because he was kissing you, and this time it was different. it wasn’t nearly as clumsy, or aggressive. the angle was perfect, and his hand was resting on the back of your neck, a soft cradle. your brain didn’t need to time to load, or reboot, and for once it didn’t even blue screen. you immediately kissed spencer back, with more fervor than you thought you had in you.

a small moan slipped out of your mouth, and you didn’t care about that either. you knew your coworkers were probably watching you both from around the corner, phones out to record the momentous occasion, hushes being thrown at others who dared to speak. 

but right now, the only thing you cared about was making sure spencer knew you weren’t going to play this fucking godawful game anymore. you kissed him like you were serious about it, because you were. you were serious about spencer agnew. as serious as a heart attack, which you felt like you were on the verge of.

you attempted to pull back for a moment, but spencer wouldn’t let you go. he’s starving, and you are a delicacy he intends to gorge himself on, gluttonous. you gave in, and continued to kiss him back. it’s the most blissful feeling, reciprocation.

no more games. no more lies. no more feuds.

no more enemies, or hatred.

some things in life are universal truths. the grass is green, the sky is blue, and you and spencer agnew loved each other. you always had, and both of you were equally tired of pretending otherwise. pushing back against the universe was always a losing game. 

so you both gave in.

and it was heavenly.

“please, y/n,” spencer pined, pulling back but still staying close. “don’t make me wait another two months to do that again.”

a laugh surged out of you, loud and honest. “have you been thinking about doing it again?”

“constantly. it’s a problem.”

you bit your bottom lip, unsure of how you got here. “oh my god,” you put your head in your hands, remembering your first tweet from you posted that. “i’m sorry i threatened to piss in your kickstart.”

this time, spencer was the one who laughed. hard and loud, honest, just like you, a moment ago. like you were still doing, because hearing spencer laugh made you laugh. a contagious happiness pouring from his lips, filling your very atoms.

“it’s okay, i understand. i wanted to piss in your lattes.” he set his forehead against yours, a form of intimacy he seemed to love. just like two months ago, he was invading your space and you couldn’t get enough of it.

“i’m sorry it took so long to get my head out of my ass,” he spilled, remorse heavy in his voice. “to think we could have been doing this so long ago…” his sentence faded away, and you couldn’t help but smile even harder.

“hey, my head was also up my ass. it’s okay. we have time.”

“yeah, we do.”

✰ .ᐟ

the remainder of the week went off without incident. you told ian you would fill out any and all paperwork, but not until you and spencer were ready. not until he formally asked you to be his girlfriend. it was still the very early days, and while you were beyond happy, you didn’t want to jinx it. watching this love grow was a privilege, not a right, and you intended to keep it. 

you both graced the infamous white reddit stories couch, the episode themed around coworker drama. it was nice to be able to laugh with him openly, and it was nice to hear his thoughts on the stories. spencer was incredibly well articulated when he wanted to be, and it was incredibly sexy to watch him be so emotionally mature and vulnerable. he was more understanding than you would have ever expected, and it only made you want him more.

you hadn’t had a real, formal date yet. that was tonight, once shooting wrapped. he refused to tell you anything about it, just insisted you dress comfortably.

and you were comfortable, here on this couch, with spencer. you both had to be reminded not to sit so close together, several times now. shayne and courtney ragged on you a bit, but they promised to give you tips on hiding the relationship if that was what you chose to do. that was a conversation for another time, but it was nice to know everyone at smosh would always be in your corner.

you pulled yourself out of your head to concentrate on shayne’s voice, and you even threw in a few comments mid-narration. you didn’t like doing that often, it felt rude to interrupt. but hearing spencer break out in a fit of giggles at a shitty joke you made only pushed you to be more confident. 

✰ .ᐟ

“where the fuck are going, spencer?” you questioned for approximately the fifteenth time. once shooting had wrapped, everyone bid you and spencer farewell and good luck on your first official date. you went to the bathroom to change into your favorite sweatpants and an old hoodie, and when you reappeared spencer was holding a blindfold in his hand.

without thinking, you had popped the first joke that came into your head. “oh, we’re already getting freaky?”

he had laughed, and insisted it wasn’t anything like that. “but it can be, eventually.” he raised an eyebrow, suggestive and suave.

well, fuck.

as spencer directed you through the office – presumably to take you to one of the stages? – you let the lack of sight relax you. he wanted to surprise you, which means that he planned something. or set something up. you were rapidly falling in love with this man, and you weren’t sure if that was scary or exciting. probably both. you were free falling out of a fucking airplane, the cords on your parachute stuck, but it felt good. 

“okay, you can remove your blindfold,” you heard his voice from behind you, as he finally brought you to a stop.

you slowly reached up to pull the blindfold off, and you couldn’t stop the tears that started to form.

spencer had set up a place for you to record music. he had moved a bunch of props and furniture around on the games stage, and set up a tiny little nook with pillows and blankets and bean bags. somehow, your guitar was there, propped next to an amp. there were several pedals splayed out, a wide array of effects for you to choose from. it was all hooked up to your macbook, which had fl studio pulled up on it.

“spencer…” you whined. the tears were silent, but they fell in waves. 

he moved to stand in front of you, and you knew you would never get tired of being able to be this close to him whenever you wanted. he was yours to hold. 

you tried to stop the tears, tried to speak, tried to thank him and apologize. all you could do was let the small, silent sobs wrack your body. 

“y/n, please please tell me that these are happy tears,” spencer pleaded with you. his hand wiping a tear away from your cheek.

you nodded furiously, and found your voice again. “y-yes. yes. they are happy tears.” you took a deep breath in, stinging in the best way. “thank you so fucking much, spencer. i don’t know what to say other than thank you.”

“i know that you write music, but i know you never record it. i didn’t know if that was because you were worried about it not being good enough, or if it was simply the inability to record. either way, i can keep all of this set up here for you. whenever you want, as long as the stage isn’t needed, of course. i was hoping we could have a little jam sesh.” spencer laughed, light and airy.

you surged forward, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly. “thank you,” you said again.

✰ .ᐟ

you and spencer spent three hours holed up on the games stage, playing around with different effects pedals and different fl studio presets. the time flew by, and you hadn’t even actually recorded anything, but you didn’t need to. you’d remember every second of this night for the rest of your life. you didn’t show spencer any of the songs you’d written these past few weeks, all of them about him. you would one day, when you were ready, but right now all you wanted was to be in this moment with him.

“it’s crazy how far we’ve come in such little time,” spencer said quietly, once the instruments had been retired and you were both stretched out on the extra large bean bag.

you smiled, agreeing. “yeah. it sucks that we lost out on so much time, but i’m grateful that i get to have you at all.” it was more vulnerable than you had meant to be, but spencer didn’t let it linger in the air too long.

“you have me for as long as you want, babe. i’m not leaving until you kick me out.”

a soft laugh, “i can’t imagine a world where i’d ever kick you out, spencer.”

“it’s like i told you. you’re the one in charge, y/n. i’ll follow your lead wherever it takes me.”

“even if it takes you off a cliff?” you japed, adding some levity to this conversation you weren’t quite ready for.

“yes,” spencer replied, no hesitation or thought. “wherever you go, i’d like to be with you. if you’d have me.” 

you turned fully onto your side so you could look at him again. his hair had gotten so long, and you were hoping he wouldn’t cut it yet. you liked how wild and windswept it looked at this length. you also wanted to pull it.

“what are you saying, spencer?” you were egging him on.

“will you be my girlfriend, y/n? we can go as slow or as fast as you’d like, we can do it all at your pace. we have time,” he assured you. “i know this is only our first date, and normally this might seem like jumping the gun a little bit.” spencer sighed, but it was wistful, not sad. “but i’ve been sure about you for years now, and now that you’re finally giving me the chance, i don’t want to wait. i don’t want it to slip out of my hands.”

you let out a breath you didn’t notice you were holding. this side of spencer – no, just spencer – you were so unaware of him and everything he had the capacity to be and do and feel just a few months ago. sure, you’d been pining for awhile, and you’d been watching him for a bit. not in a creepy way, just observing him when he wasn’t putting up the goddamn shield he always forced up around you. seeing spencer for who he was, as he was. you had no idea that he could be so eloquent, so romantic, so fucking perfect.

“christ, you’re going to kill me, charles spencer agnew.”

“is that a yes, y/n? don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind already!” spencer laughed again, and you realized just how often you made him laugh. almost like your specific brand of comedy was tailor made for him. maybe it was. 

“yes, spencer, i will be your girlfriend.” you smiled at him, a toothy. unabashed grin. “thank you for this.” you gestured around the nook. “seriously, this is so fucking sweet of you. i really, truly appreciate it.” most people didn’t put so much effort into the first date. this would, normally, be a fifth date kind of thing, probably. not that you had much practice. but it was your first real date, and spencer did all this work just to spend a few hours making shitty hyperpop mixes out of the silliest guitar sounds you could manage.

“don’t get used to it, this was a lot of work.”

your smile dropped instantly, a cold rush hitting you. fuck, was he making fun of you? you felt tears well up again, this time decidedly unhappy tears.

spencer shot up in an instant. “hey, hey. it’s okay, love. can i touch you?”

you cried harder, realizing that not only was spencer not making fun of you, but that he was listening. he always was, he always had been. because he knew not to touch you when you were crying, he knew to ask. and you had never told him that.

you had said it in a reddit stories video once. the story had to do with panic attacks, and you felt like you had to give your two cents, daring to be vulnerable on beyoncé’s internet.

“i actually hate being touched when i’m upset. people always jump straight to hugging me or patting my head or some shit. bro, i’m fucking freaking out, please do not touch me!” 

courtney laughed, agreeing with your sentiment. “no, exactly! like, i’m crying all over myself and i’m snotty and gross. please get your hands off me. you can clearly see i’m overwhelmed, why is your first thought to add to that?” 

it was refreshing to be understood by someone. 

“i have never once seen someone in emotional distress and thought, ‘hmm, i should hug them super tight! that’ll help!’ like, what the fuck are we doing, guys? however, i do remember one time i started having a panic attack, and my friend looked at me and held her hands up, then asked ‘can i touch you?’ which, like, just broke me out of it. i was so thankful that she asked to touch me instead of just doing it that i was immediately calmed down. she’s great.”

the emotions were a sudden flood, and you shook your head no. spencer sat still in his spot, respecting your decision. for some reason, this only prompted you to cry harder.

basic respect had you sobbing. this was fucking embarrassing. 

“i’m so sorry,” you said through tears, trying to explain yourself.

spencer was patient, and you knew he would wait for you to collect yourself. it was a small gesture but it really did mean the world to you. this meant not only did he listen to you when you were talking on set, but also that he watches the videos that you’re in. he wasn’t on that shoot, he had a con to go to. he wasn’t even in the state of california when you had said that. you had said that nearly a year ago, and he had watched the video when it came out. then committed that piece of you to memory.

“spencer?” you let out softly. “i have a question.”

your voice was small, almost upsettingly so. you didn’t mean to sound so timid, but projecting your voice when you’re feeling this many emotions was something you could only do in front of a camera or a live audience.

“yes?”

“how long have you known that you didn't… y’know. hate me?” you sighed, glad to have the weight of the question off of your shoulders, but worried about how heavy the answer might weigh on you. 

“i never hated you. i never even disliked you, y/n. i thought you were smart enough to figure that out.”

“are you negging me, babe?” you asked him, trying out the pet name. it felt nice, especially because you meant it. and because this time, you knew he wasn't being mean. he was just being spencer.

once again, spencer’s laugh graced your eardrums, and you knew you’d never tire of the way it made you feel. unstoppable. like if you could make spencer agnew laugh like this, you could do anything in the world. maybe even be brave.

“can i show you something that i've been working on?” you asked, your eyes trailing up to meet his, which were already fixated on you. as always. 

“of course.”

you grabbed your guitar, turning ever so slightly to the side. you didn't want to hide, but you also didn't want to be on full display. spencer understood your movement immediately; he looked down at his hands for a moment, silently reassuring you that it was okay, that you were safe.

it was refreshing to be understood by someone.

you plucked the chords you had burned into your brain at this point. you had written this song the evening of the hide and seek incident (trademark pending).

you let your eyes fall shut, playing from memory, as easy as 1-2-3. as you began the first verse, you dared to glance at spencer. he was looking at you, but through his periphery. still trying to give you that space, but unable to deny himself. it made you burn bright with pure, radiant joy. 

you glided into the chorus, your eyes fully open at this point. spencer had long since abandoned his resolve, and he was watching you intently. instead of being scared, or nervous, or overwhelmed, you just felt seen.

in every sense, you felt seen. he was looking at you, into you, and not through you. he was seeing your heart on your sleeve, stitched permanently on every cardigan you owned. he was seeing all of your emotions, all the anger, all the sadness. and he understood your emotions, because he had felt them, too. he had gone through it all, too.

how lucky you were, to be loved by someone so observant. and maybe it wasn't love yet, but you knew the potential was there. you knew, as you finished up the bridge and moved on to the outro, that the seed had been planted. you would be sure to water it diligently.

“can i kiss you?” spencer blurted out, as soon as the final note finished ringing out in the otherwise silent stage.

“always.” you met spencer halfway, another crashing, aching kiss. his hands immediately found your hair, as they always did. your arms fell around his shoulders, a loose hold. 

after a moment the kiss was less crashing and danger and speed, slowing naturally to a sensual pace. lightly pulling and pushing, his hands now gripping your hips. not angry, not painful. it was a tight grip, but it wasn't mean. it felt scared, almost, like if spencer didn't hold on to you, you’d be gone. 

you think you liked that feeling. the feeling that your partner wanted you all the time. 

you spent another hour lazily kissing, and ended up falling into a blissful sleep.

✰ .ᐟ

you woke up about an hour after you had crashed. you hadn't meant to, you were just so fucking relaxed and happy. with the way your sleep had been, you weren’t going to turn down a nap. 

spencer mumbled something, and you were suddenly hyperaware of the fact you were still in the office. you groaned, unintentionally.

“you okay, y/n?” your boyfriend – you loved that – asked, his voice soft and scratchy from the nap.

you smiled down at him. “yeah, sorry. i just realized we've only ever kissed at the office.”

you watched in amusement as the cogs turned in his head. “oh, jeez. well, that’s just unacceptable. hey, apropos of nothing, i'm out of kickstart. do you want to run to the corner store with me?” 

spencer held out a hand, as if to say ‘join me on this adventure?’ and you weren’t sure how you could decline his offer. 

♡