#and then gets out and everyone is like 'WHERE WERE YOU?!'

[tame-the-lion-writes]

feral omega reader x task force 141

I've read a lot of Task Force 141 being assigned a group omega to force them to chill tf out as an all-alpha pack, BUT!-- imagine instead of taking one from a roster, Price just one day comes back from a mission with an omega he picked up from God knows where, cradling her like she's an injured cat.

The man's got tousled hair and a few scratches on his cheek from trying to wrench poor you out of a dangerous situation. Stuck under a fallen building or in an enemy prison cell, maybe--but that doesn't matter. You're coming home with him cause you've got nowhere else to go. And now you're essentially the feral wet cat adopted by these massive, powerful alphas. Cause omegas are supposed to be sweet and soft and tiny, and they just wanna protect you, but you're only tiny. And you've got a whole lot of teeth. It's both equally endearing and concerning.

Of course, the boys can handle you, though. And by handle, I mean, "Here, kitty, kitty. Please don't bite me this time. See, we're friends now!" At least that was how Soap put it, whereas Price and Ghost just sat in the same space with you until you learned that they were chill. Gaz made peace offerings with food. Soap was the last to enter your good graces.

Meanwhile Kate just tolerates you, since she doesn't know what the hell Price was thinking.

"You could've had anyone from the list, you know. A proper omega who knows how to cook and clean."

"Ah, but where's the fun in that? 'sides, she needed a home like the rest of us."

_

Bonus Thoughts:

Once you've calmed, you're still feisty--just feisty with everyone else but 141. Kate is somewhat of an extension. Not quite pack but trusted by your packmates. You eventually settle for glaring at her from across the room.

Heats? Yes. Sexual heats? Not quite. I imagine feral reader only ever being cuddly during her heats, at least at the start. But do with that what you will--it's one of the few times she initiates touch first. That, and when she's the possessive one--not the boys.

She's also definitely a bit of a kleptomaniac. She's already got one of Ghost's extra masks, Price's bandana, etc. from when they all gave her random stuff to get her used to their scents, but once she's gotten over fighting back, she wants more, more, more. Shirts and jackets start going missing. Even pillowcases. They catch on, of course, but nobody finds anything until Price opens his closet one day, and BAM--one messy hoard of a nest.

"You could've just asked."

Mildly disgruntled hissing.

[reidmania]

a moment | s. reid

summary: two times there was a ‘moment’ between you and spencer, and one time he did something about it.

warnings; best friends to lovers, fem reader, pinning, this based off a lorelai and luke edit i saw, idk if its edited or makes any sense tbh!! sorry! longing, kinda self doubt idk, happy ending yay!!

an; this is for lia. And was written in like an hour so i really dont want the hate guys. If it sucks i cannot be held responsible.

You walk into the bullpen, scanning the usual chaos of the bullpen The day’s already running long, and it’s barely even noon.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Spencer says, glancing up from his desk. His eyes are sharp behind his glasses, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. He’s half-hidden behind a wall of case files, as always, but somehow manages to throw his snark with precision.

you and spencer had been best friends since you started together, you got along with anyone but gravitated towards Spencer more than anyone else. Him and Penelope were the easiest for you to be around, you loved everyone but you had your favourites.

While Penelope had been bugging you to either kick up the courage to do something about your friendship with Spencer, or move on, you did neither.

"Oh, save it,," you fire back, tossing your bag on your desk. "I’m fashionably late. It’s a thing."

"Yeah, fashionably late in a profession like this. Very chic. Theres other ways to get here you know — from your house-“

“Don’t even” you cut him off.

“Im just saying if you keep missing the same turn off every time maybe it’s a sign you should be going a different way.” He muttered.

“I didn’t miss the turn off.” You argued. You lied.

“You did.”

“No”

He said your name and you huffed.

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin as you sink into your chair. "Can we pretend, just for today, that you’re not right?"

"Well," Spencer says, leaning back in his chair, "I’m only right about ninety-seven percent of the time. So, technically, you’ve got a three percent chance of being right today. Want to take a gamble?"

You throw a crumpled paper at him. "Your math is annoying."

He catches it, eyes twinkling, and throws it back at you. "Annoying?"

“Yes, annoying. It hurts my head”

It’s easy between the two of you—this banter, this back-and-forth. It always has been, ever since the first case you worked together. Over time, it’s become second nature to tease him, push his buttons, and he always gives it right back. The tension slips away with every joke, but today, there’s something different about the way his eyes linger on you a beat too long, like he’s waiting for you to catch on.

You ignore it. You have to.

"So, what do we have?" you ask, holding out your hand for the file in his lap.

He passes it to you, fingers brushing against yours. It’s brief, but the touch sends a spark up your arm. Your eyes meet for a second longer than necessary, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t know what to say.

Spencer clears his throat, looking back down at the file. "This unsub’s a real charmer. I think he's using manipulation tactics to lure his victims. He’s got a pattern, but it’s subtle. Took me a while to piece it together."

"Took you a while? So, like... five minutes?" You grin, but the edge in your voice is gone, replaced by something softer.

He laughs, a sound that always surprises you because it’s rare, but so genuine. "Try thirty. It was a real struggle."

"Wow. I almost feel bad for you."

His smile fades just a little, and when he looks at you again, there’s that shift. Something hovers between you, just under the surface, where the teasing usually stays. His eyes flicker over your face, and suddenly, you wonder if he’s about to say something else, something that would cross the line you’ve never acknowledged before.

Your heart skips, and before you can stop yourself, you lean forward a little. Your breath catches.

"So..." Spencer starts, but before the sentence can land, your phone buzzes on your desk. The sharp sound breaks the moment like a snapped thread. You jerk back, grabbing your phone.

"Hotch needs us in the conference room," you mutter, more to yourself than him, trying to get a grip on the swirling thoughts in your head. "We’ve got a lead."

Spencer blinks, clearly shaken out of whatever that was, and you stand up quickly, focusing hard on the case and not on the fact that you were about two seconds away from… what? Leaning in? Kissing him?

No. That’s not what this is. This is Spencer.

"Race you to the conference room?" he asks suddenly, the playful lilt back in his voice, but there’s still something lingering behind his eyes, a question neither of you seems ready to ask.

"Race? You’re literally taller than me, that’s cheating. I’m wearing heels!!"

"You can run in heels, can’t you?" He shoots you a smirk, the tension easing just enough for you to relax, even if your heart is still racing.

"Could. But i don't want to damage my gorgeous shoes," you huffed, yet already heading for the door.

"Gorgeous shoes?" He repeated, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah that was actually the name of the shoes when i bought them. They had 'gorgeous shoes' written in big letters across the box." You smiled, tilting your head.

"Really?"

"No."

You make it halfway to the conference room before he catches up, the two of you slipping back into your usual rhythm. But as you walk into the room side by side, the unspoken thing still hangs between you. You don’t talk about it, and maybe you never will, but it’s there.

“Are you still coming over tonight?” He asked, looking down at you, eyes lingering on yours. You nod.

“It’s pizza night. Of course I am.”

And once again, you’re reminded that with Spencer, things have never been as simple as just best friends.

You’re standing in Spencer’s tiny kitchen, flour everywhere. And when you say everywhere, you mean it—on the counters, in your hair, smeared on his cheek where you definitely didn’t mean to slap him with dough earlier.

“This is going really well,” you deadpan, holding up the limp, misshapen pizza dough.

“Um.” He squints as he looks at the mess.

“Well.. you’re the genius who can outsmart anyone but apparently can’t figure out yeast,” you argue, pinning the blame on him. “Is it supposed to look like this?” You muttered, tilting your head.

“I think it’s fighting back. Maybe we’re the victims now.”

You both dissolve into laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt. This was supposed to be simple. Homemade pizza sounded like a cute idea, something easy to do on a night off, but it’s turned into chaos. The dough’s not cooperating, the sauce might be too watery, and you’re pretty sure you added way too much garlic. But that’s what makes it fun.

"Okay," Spencer says, hands raised in surrender. "I officially give up. This dough has outsmarted me."

"You’re giving up? Dr Spencer Reid, defeated by pizza dough?" You snatch the rolling pin from him, trying to take over, but the second you press down, the dough tears. "Okay, maybe it’s smarter than both of us."

Spencer steps closer, leaning over your shoulder to inspect the mess you've made. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and for just a second, everything feels different. The banter pauses. His breath is soft on your neck, his arm brushing against yours as he reaches to touch the dough. Your heart stutters, and you freeze, unsure of what to do next.

But then, with no warning, Spencer flicks flour at you.

"Hey!" you squeal, spinning around to face him, eyes wide. He looks so pleased with himself, a mischievous grin on his face.

"What? You had flour in your hair. I was just trying to help.”

"Sure, you were." You reach for the bag of flour, holding it up threateningly. "I will not hesitate to make this a war, Spencer."

He grins widely, almost daringly.

You grab a handful of flour and toss it at him in retaliation. "You are such a child."

“I’m just helping!” he protests, dodging your attack and grabbing the rolling pin like a shield. His laughter is contagious, and soon you’re both caught up in it, the tension slipping away into something lighter, easier.

You try to swipe more flour at him, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you mid-throw. His fingers wrap around your wrist gently, but the touch sends an unexpected shiver up your arm. You both freeze, the room suddenly too quiet again, his hand lingering on yours for just a second longer than necessary.

His gaze flickers down to where his fingers rest against your skin, and then back up to meet your eyes. There’s a pause, just long enough for the air between you to thicken, something unspoken hanging between you. His thumb brushes your wrist lightly, and you wonder if he feels it too—the tension that’s been simmering all night, just beneath the surface.

You swallow hard, pulling your hand away, but not before you catch the briefest flicker of something in his expression. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and just like that, the moment slips away.

His eyes narrow playfully, and for a second, you think he might call your bluff. But instead, he just chuckles and steps back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Let’s not escalate this. We’re adults, after all."

"Adults who can’t make pizza," you mutter, dumping the ruined dough into the trash. "Guess we’ll have to order in. Again."

Spencer wipes his hands on a towel, still smiling. "I’ll let you pick the place this time. As long as it’s not that one with the weird crust you made us try last month."

"Oh come on, that was a bold choice! You just have no sense of adventure."

"I have a very good sense of adventure," he says, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes sparkling in that way that makes you feel like he knows exactly how to get under your skin. "I just like my pizza to taste like pizza."

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning, too. "Fine. We’ll get the boring pizza this time."

As you both settle into the living room, waiting for the pizza to arrive, you can't help but feel that lingering tension again. The kind that sneaks up on you when things get quiet, when the laughter dies down, and it’s just the two of you sitting side by side, closer than necessary.

You smile, nudging him with your elbow. "Who knew you were such a terrible cook, though?"

"I think we share equal blame here."

"Maybe," you admit, glancing at him. His eyes catch yours, and for just a moment, the playful air between you shifts. It’s small, like the brush of his hand earlier, like the way he’s looking at you now. Your heart skips again, and you wonder—just for a second—if maybe, possibly, you weren’t imagining it. You ignore it, there was too much that could go wrong if you didn’t.

It’s late in the afternoon when you hear the knock at your door. The sun's still out, casting a soft golden light through your living room windows, but it’s the last thing on your mind.

You’re dressed in something more put together than usual because, of course, Penelope had insisted on setting you up on this date tonight. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but she’d been so enthusiastic that you’d caved. You’d said yes to humor her, to get her off your back.

She had insisted that you needed something to get your mind off Spencer. You wondered if that was actually possible.

So when the knock comes, your stomach churns, thinking it might be the guy arriving too early. But when you open the door, it's not your date.

It’s Spencer.

He’s standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, hair slightly disheveled, and there’s a look on his face you can’t quite place. It’s tight, maybe a little frustrated, though he's trying hard to keep his expression neutral.

“Spence?” You lean against the doorframe, arching an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, eyes scanning you briefly before he looks down, then back up again. There’s tension in his posture, the kind you recognize when he’s overthinking something. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

You don’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh.”

His face tightens even more, though he tries to hide it with a half-hearted shrug. “Did Penelope set you up with some guy?”

“Yeah?” You squinted trying to figure out how he knew that. You hadn’t mentioned it, you didn’t want to talk about what had caused your sudden date or have to lie to him about why Penelope suddenly set you up when you have shown no intention of being interested in dating.

“Penelope told me. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, running his hand through his hair as if he was stressed. You didn’t understand, not really. You told Spencer everything so you could understand why he would be annoyed that you didn’t tell him this, but it seemed as if he took it personally.

You squint at him, crossing your arms. “What is your issue? You look like you want to strangle someone.”

He lets out a huff, avoiding your eyes again. “It’s nothing.”

You tilt your head, studying him. There’s something under the surface, and you’re not about to let it go. “Well you’re here so, obviously its not nothing … What’s going on?”

He finally looks up at you, his eyes sharp and filled with something you haven’t seen before. It catches you off guard for a moment. “It’s just—there was a moment.”

You blink, thrown by the sudden shift. “A moment?”

His voice drops, a little rougher now, a little more real. “Last week. When we were making pizza, and the week before that— and during- there was a moment.”

Your heart skips. You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you stay silent, letting him continue.

“I thought there was a moment,” he says, his frustration starting to leak through his words now. “I thought maybe something was… happening.”

Your chest tightens, the air in the room shifting as you meet his eyes. “There was.”

The confession comes out of your mouth before you even realize it, and the tension between you two spikes instantly, filling the space with an electric charge. You can feel it, the way everything has changed with those two words.

Spencer just stares at you, his brow furrowing slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to admit it. He takes a step forward, you step back almost unconsciously, and your heart beats faster in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice low, unsure.

He doesn’t stop moving, closing the gap between you even more, and his voice is soft but firm when he speaks. “Will you just stand still for a minute?”

Before you can say anything, before you can even process what’s happening, his hand comes up to cup the side of your face, and his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but it’s full of all the unspoken things that have been building between you for so long. You feel the world tilt, your hands instinctively moving to grip the front of his jacket, pulling him closer. For a second, everything else fades away—your date, the case, everything.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you just stare at each other. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, and his eyes search yours, full of something that feels too big to name.

Neither of you says anything for a long moment, the silence thick and heavy with everything that’s just shifted between you.

Then, as if in slow motion, you take a small step forward. It’s your turn now, the tables flipped, and you can see the surprise flicker in his eyes as he instinctively steps back.

“What are you doing?” he asks, echoing your earlier words, his voice low and a little breathless

You give him a small smile, feeling the tension twist tighter in your chest. “Will you just stand still for a minute?” You mirrored his words

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t move, and before he can say another word, you close the space between you and kiss him again.

This time, it’s different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. The kiss is deeper, more insistent, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. It’s like everything you’ve both been holding back is finally breaking free, all the tension and the unspoken feelings rushing to the surface.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily, faces inches from each other. Your hands are still gripping the front of his jacket, his fingers still digging into your sides like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t move, neither of you do. You just stay there, staring at each other, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not thinking about the job, or the cases, or anything else. It’s just him.

He’s the first to break the silence, his voice quiet and almost disbelieving, He exhales, a long, relieved breath, his hand still resting on your waist. “I thought maybe I was imagining it.”

You shake your head, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “No. You weren’t imagining it.”

Another beat of silence passes, and then his lips quirk up into that small, crooked smile you’ve always liked so much. “Well, I guess we have Penelope to thank for this.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “Yeah, and she doesn’t even know it.”

His thumb brushes your side, a subtle touch, but enough to send a shiver up your spine. “Are you… still going on that date?”

The question hangs in the air between you, and for a moment, you almost laugh. The idea of leaving now, of going out with some guy Penelope set you up with, feels absurd.

“No,” you say, your voice steady and certain. “I’m not.”

His smile widens, just a little. “Good.”

You grin up at him, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. “Yeah? Why’s that good?”

Spencer’s gaze softens, and for the first time, you see the real reason for his frustration, for all of this. He steps even closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your lips, his voice low and sincere.

“Because, there was a moment.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you meet his eyes, that familiar warmth spreading through you again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, his lips ghosting yours, and the last bit of tension that’s been sitting between you melts away completely. He smiles, and before either of you can say anything else, he closes the gap and kisses you again.

[d0rothydraws]

After a night out things get heated and Sylus can't control himself, revealing a new side of him.

content: f!reader, monster cock, porn without plot, public sex, multiple orgasms, Inappropriate use of Evol, after care, just a lot of smut idk

w/c: 3.7k

Ao3: Here

a/n: This took so long i'm so sorry works been wearing me out so much I haven't been able to post much. I hope this satisfies all the monster fuckers that wanted this from my one post.

Tonight had been.. A lot. You and Sylus were at a dinner banquet. Apparently a very important man was hosting the event and Sylus was looking for information about something. You didn’t really know or ask. You don’t really ask many questions these days. Sylus had custom fit you one of the most beautiful dresses you had ever seen. It was made of the softest silk, the neckline was low yet tasteful, showing enough to catch some looks but not enough to feel exposed. The skirt had a high slit that went to the top of your hip, exposing your leg once in a while. As you walked, the long skirt looked like it was flowing around you like water. You wore matching blood red heels that looked like they were carved out of ruby. The light catching them in a mesmerizing way. Your hair was done in a way where it framed your face, pulled in an updo that bounced slightly every time you took a step. And on your neck was a crow pendant embedded with a ruby. 

To say it simply, you looked beautiful. Elegant. 

And Sylus couldn’t keep his eyes, or hands, off of you.

As you walked, his hand was draped around your waist, hand on your hip. Or his hand was on your lower back, or when you sat his hand was on your thigh, fingers drawing patterns that sent a chill down your spine. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, meeting yours once in a while. You almost could feel the hot breath that left him when this happened, exhaling every time as if he was trying to control himself. 

You couldn’t lie, it felt good to see him like this. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what you would look like in the dress, it was custom fit, custom designed just for you. He had seen it on you before. And yet when anyone looked over at you, giving you just the smallest bit of attention, you felt his hand tighten, body pulled closer. Your hip flush against his. You could feel heat radiating from his body.

Part of you wondered if he was going to end up dragging you into the bathroom. A couple times you thought he was considering it, especially as his hand moved to the inside of your thigh halfway through the banquet. His rough fingers trailed higher, brushing against your panties. He leaned over whispering in your ear, his voice thick as honey. 

“You look delicious.” His words sent a shiver through your body as your hand tightened on the fork you were holding. You looked around, everyone was talking about something you didn't understand. Nobody knew what was happening under the table. And in a bold decision, you parted your thighs just a little bit more. Moving your hips to press against the fingers that were tracing your folds through your panties. You heard his breath catch, his hand pausing for only a second, Sylus’ lips returned to your ear. 

“Try not to squirm too much, kitten. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back.” He said as his fingers dipped under the fabric, calloused fingers grazing the sensitive skin. You took a bite of food to hide a moan, your face red as a shaky breath left your lipsticked lips. You wanted nothing more than to ride his hand. To throw all caution to the wind and thrust your hips against his fingers until you were clenching and twitching around him, begging for more. 

And suddenly, his hand was gone. Your disappointment must have been audible because he chuckled, bringing his finger to his lips. Swiftly he liked them as if he was licking off a stray drop of sauce that fell onto his hand. You caught the look in his eye as his right eye started glowing slightly. Glancing down you seen the red and black tendrils of his power snake its way around your leg. It felt warm and you tried to not shiver or make a sound as you felt the weight of it move between your thighs. Your panties pushed to the side and as a reflex you tried to close your legs. The tendrils pushed your legs back open gently, like a pair of hands and as you felt the warmth against your core, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching a hand out, putting it on Sylus’ thigh, nails pressing into the thick meat. 

It felt as if it was Sylus himself between your thighs, just a different version. The feeling was like a warm tongue licking at you, lapping up every bit that you provided as you tried your damndest to not moan, or at least, too loud. You never felt anything like this before. You almost forgot you were in public until you heard his voice in your ear again. 

“Quiet, kitten. You’ll get caught.” His voice was low, strained. A rush of adrenaline flooded your veins as you choked back a whine. The energy pushed inside you, curling exactly where you needed it. Licking your sensitive, throbbing clit. Your hand on his thigh tightened, nails digging in more making him give a low groan deep in his throat. 

“Sylus-” You said, trying to be quiet, but the sound was choked out. Your breathing was heavy, face red and eyes were starting to get glossy. “I can’t. P-please, I-” You let out a choked gasp, louder than you wanted as your orgasm rushed through you. You clenched around the thick mass of energy inside you as you panted, blushing so dark that you probably matched your dress. A few people turned to look, eyebrows raised in curiosity as they saw your out of breath expression. 

“We will be taking our leave now.” Sylus said, the energy around your lower half dissolved as if it never happened. Your legs felt numb as you tried to steady your thoughts, your heart pounding and blood rushing. Your body moved on its own as Sylus stood, as if being willed by him to follow. You had no complaints about this, your anticipation was as high as ever to get him alone. His hand was firm on your lower back giving you much needed support as you walked to the car.

The drive home was quiet but the tension was thick. His body was tense as he pulled into the driveway and before you could even open the door, the red-black tendrils of energy embraced you again. Your body was moved by a force you couldn’t fight even if you wanted to. A thrill ran through your body. He had never used his Evol on you like this before. 

You were placed in the middle of the bedroom, Sylus following you through the door as his eye glowed. His hands in his pockets as he looked at you with a hunger you never saw from him before. You let out a slow breath, feeling the energy dissolve into the air as he towered over you, a hand moving to your chin. 

“Sweetie, you almost made me lose control, looking like that in public. It’s dangerous, you know.” He said, fingers trailing your skin as his other hand trailed down the curve of your waist, admiring the figure hidden under the dress he picked out. 

“I guess you could say I had a good stylist.” You said with a half laugh, he chuckled, a low sound that warmed your core. His hand moved behind your neck, fingers making quick work of the tie that held the light dress on your body. With a flick of his fingers, the fabric fell to the floor around your feet. Your hand moved to his chest, trailing up to wrap around his tie. 

The tension broke as you pulled him down into a rough kiss, one of his hands curled in your hair while the other moved to your hip. He guided you as you felt the bed hit the back of your legs, one of his legs coming to rest on the edge of the bed as you fell back. His kiss was hot, hungry. Teeth bite your lip, tongues pushing against each other as your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. He took your hand from his tie, his fingers wrapping around yours as he pinned it above your head. 

“Do you trust me?” He breathed in your ear as he pulled back, panting softly. You could feel the hardness of his cock against your thigh, straining his pants. You arched your hips up to apply some pressure, making him groan. You knew there was only one answer to his question.  

“Yes.” 

The grip on your hand tightened as it was pushed harder into the soft mattress, his other hand moved to your face bringing your lips to his as he kissed you. Slow, deep. Different from the kiss you just had. You felt hot breath on your cheek as he breathed out through his nose asif he was holding his breath waiting for your answer. In turn, the kiss took your own breath away as you pulled back, your lips slightly red from how he bit your lip as you pulled back. His fingers traced the outline of your lower lip as his eyes stared down at you, red orbs swirling.

“Darling,” His voice made a low sound as his eyes looked into you. A serious look that brought you back to reality for a moment. He didn’t give you that look often.  “I’m not sure if I'll be able to hold back tonight.” Sylus sounded just as breathless as you felt. “If you need me to stop at any point, tell me. Promise me.” He said, the hand on your cheek gently tracing the skin under his fingers. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Your heart fluttered as you looked up at him. Your cheeks flushed as you took a deep breath, processing his words. 

You two had a safe word. It was well established when you started becoming physical. There was one time you did have to use it, not because of anything horrible but you weren’t in the right mindset for what he had planned that night. So instead of putting yourself through it, knowing that he wouldn’t want you to do that, you said it. He stopped instantly followed by a warm bath, snacks, and your favorite show. 

“I promise.” You breathed, looking into his eyes as he stared down at you. There was something that you couldn’t tell, that you never had seen before. “I trust you, Sylus.” You whispered, bringing your free hand to pull him into a slow kiss that matched the last one. You put your whole soul into that kiss, as if hoping he would understand just how much you cared for him. How without a thought you would put your life in his hands, knowing damn well that he would do the same for you. 

As the kiss continued, the energy began to change. Once soft and gentle was becoming something more. His lips were hot, hungry as he straddled your hips. His clothed cock grinded against your thigh making your body twitch and shiver with need. His hand on your face became rougher, holding your jaw firmly as his kiss devoured you. He pulled away with a soft growl, licking his lips. 

“You’re like a drug to me.” Sylus said as his hands moved to pull at his clothes, buttons unfastening to reveal his chest. Your mouth started to salivate at the sight.  Your hands moved up to help him, guiding your palms over the surface of his skin. Sylus let out a low sound, watching you as you made your way to his belt. He didn’t stop you as you undid the fasten. The sound of metal was loud in the room as it fell from its hold as Sylus pulled the belt and tossed it on the floor. 

His lips were on you again. Hungry, hot. You felt your breath be taken from your lungs as your hands were pinned above your head. His tongue pushing into your mouth, devouring you whole. He pulled away with a low growl, looking down at you, his eyes dark and his lips red from the kiss and the stain of your lipstick. 

“Roll over kitten.” Sylus purred as he let go of your hands and instantly you followed his direction. You felt the slick of your arousal as you moved, making your need even more known to you as you turned. Now with your ass to him, arched as your cheek laid against the pillow. You felt his fingers wrap under the lace of your panties, pulling them down to your knees. You looked over to him, your view obstructed but still managed to match his eyes. 

No words needed to be said, both of you needed the same exact thing and he wasn’t in a mood to tease you, at least not at the moment. His hands worked on his pants, letting them fall to the floor as he stood off of the bed, his boxers following. Your mouth watered, moaning into the pillow at the sight of him. Hard, dripping. His hand wrapped around his cock, pumping slowly as his thumb brushed against the angry red head. You felt your pussy clench as if trying to draw him in. He was beautiful. He didn’t even look human. No human could be this beautiful. 

As he climbed back onto the bed he wasted no time in positioning himself. He kissed your back, one hand on himself to adjust while the other was on your ass, sinking into the soft flesh. He kissed your back again before speaking into your ear, his voice was rough, deep.

“Remember our promise?” He whispered, his voice strained. Reminding you that you would use the safe word if you needed. You felt his tip slide against you, eager for the final confirmation. You nodded into the pillow, shifting your hips as you grinded against him. He groaned, the hand on your ass getting rougher as he held you still. 

He began to push into you slowly. You felt your body stretch to accommodate him, your moan loud as your body felt like electricity was pulsing through your veins at the feeling. Fuck he always felt so good. So thick, so heavy inside you. Your eyes rolled as he bottomed out his hands gently rubbing your back, your ass, the back of your thighs. He waited a moment, his breath strained as he tried to contain himself. But as he started to thrust it was a lost cause. 

You cried out moaning as he pulled out, thrusting back in. Your body shook as you felt him fuck you, his thrusts started to get faster the louder you moaned as if the sound of your cries edged him on, which was very much the case. You tightened around him, gasping as you felt his hand coming to rub against your clit, his rough thumb brushing the sensitive skin. 

“You sound so beautiful darling. Let me hear how you sound as you cum on my cock.” He purred in his ear. His voice sounded.. Different. Deeper somehow, more primal, needy. It drove you wild. You moaned gasping as you moved your body against him, fucking yourself on his cock while he pressed his thumb against you. You felt the sensation take over your body as Sylus hit that spot inside you that made you cry out and see stars. Your orgasm flowed through you as your pussy fluttered and clenched around him, pushing him to the brink as he filled you with his hot cum. 

You caught your breath, your forehead sticky with sweat as you felt your body tremble from the release. Sylus on the other hand, was still inside you. Cock hard, twitching as if he didn't just cum inside you. His hands gripped your hips, his lips moving to your back as he kissed your sweaty skin. You could hear his heart pounding, as fast as ever. 

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetie. That was a warmup.” He said as he started to thrust again, slowly at first. Your body shivered and moaned at the sudden movement, sensitive from your orgasm as he stated to fuck you. You felt his cum inside you, being fucked deeper. You blushed gasping, your head spinning with pleasure. 

As he fucked you, you swore his hands on your hips felt larger. His nails were digging into your skin as if they were talons. Not cutting into you, but more noticeable than before. You gasped, your mouth opening against the pillow, eyes widening as you whimpered. 

“Sylus!” You cried out as you felt your pussy stretch more than before. You felt his cock, which was already big and thick, get even bigger. The girth stretching you out more to the point your legs were shaking. You felt him hit places inside you you didn't even know existed. You felt tears fall from your eyes, sure it hurt a little but god you never felt so good in your life. You felt his tongue lick up your spine, long, thick. His mouth moved to your ear, sharp teeth nipping the skin. You could hear your heart pound. What was he? How did he become… like this? 

“Wow kitten, you took me so well.” Sylus purred. He wasn’t even moving yet and you were a whimpering crying mess. “I bet you love being stretched out on my cock like this, don’t you? I’m not even moving and it feels like you’re about to cum again.” He teased as you felt a rough, larger than normal thumb brush against your clit. “Careful, if you do, you might boost my ego. I could get addicted to this.”

Your head spun as you whimpered and moaned. You couldn’t see him. Even if you tried to turn, he was pressed against your back. But he wasn’t wrong. You were close. So agonizingly close that when he touched his thumb to that damn spot between your legs it was instant. You cried out, clenching around him and he hissed at the feeling. His cock twitched inside you as he felt you cum on his cock from nothing more than just being inside you. Filling you up completely. Stretching you to your limit to the point you weren’t sure if you’d be able to walk later. 

“Good girl. You’ve been such a good girl for me, haven’t you?” Sylus purred into your ear as he started to move. Your eyes widened as you cried out, hands clawing at the bedsheets as you felt how massive he truly had become now that he started moving. Your legs shook as you struggled to keep yourself propped up on your knees. His hands came to grab your hips as you whimpered and moaned mindlessly into the pillow. His hands felt so big, so strong. He had always been strong but this was different, otherworldly. He held you exactly how and where he wanted you as he began to fuck into you. Your body bounced and shook as if you were a ragdoll. 

“That’s it, sweetie, just like that. You’re a perfect little slut for me, aren’t you. Taking anything I give you, no matter how big. You’ll stretch your tight little pussy for me, won’t you?” Sylus growled in your ear and you gasped, eyes rolling back at his words. You couldn’t control the sounds coming from your lips, or the drool that spilled out onto the silk pillowcase. You couldn’t stop the loud needy whimper at the things he said to you. His nails pressed into your soft flesh as he continued to ravish you. 

His thrusts started to get unsteady as he panted, one hand groping your ass as the other curled into your hair, turning your face for him to kiss you. His long tongue forced its way into your mouth, his teeth were sharper but it felt more like fangs now that you could feel him better. You opened your eyes for a second, catching a glimpse to see that he looked normal. As he pulled away and opened his eyes though, you noticed how both eyes were glowing red. It looked like orbs of the red mist of his Evol flowing inside his eyes. It was beautiful. If you weren’t getting your brains fucked out you would have more time to appreciate it. 

The hand returned between your thighs, drawing circles against your sensitive nub. As he felt you twitch and whimper, his hand continued until he pulled another orgasm out of you. Your scream was muffled by the pillow but the sound made him take in a sharp breath. Even when he was like this, the sounds you made affected him more than you could ever know. You felt as his cock twitched, his thrusted uneven before he came inside you. The feeling was different than before. It was thicker and it felt like there was more than usual. You gasped, moaning as you felt him thrust a few more times, the thick globs of cum running down your thighs. 

Slowly, you felt him begin to pull out. Your body was too weak and tired to turn around and look at him but that was the last thing on your mind right now. You didn’t care what form he took. He was still yours. And you were still his. You felt him shift around you, his arms pulling you into his chest as he kissed your head. The smell of him flooded your senses as a sense of calm you never felt before came over you. 

His hands were so gentle as he carefully checked for marks and scratches. You felt a warm cloth on your thighs. A cold bottle of water pressed to your lips. You opened your mouth and the bottle tipped so gently. His hands were still on you, gently touching and caressing you. As you opened your eyes gently you saw the oh so familiar black and red mist surrounding you. Cleaning you, giving you water. You felt a kiss on the top of your head as Sylus pulled you closer. 

“Relax, kitten. You’ll need to recover. I’ll take care of everything.”

~•~•~•~

some people on my post asked to be tagged or really seemed to want this so here u guys go i hope you dont mind the tag

@lunacielooo @in-too-deepspace @sefynarose

[00kittenz]

── “ get to the car, we’re leaving ” ( lhs ) 🥃

๑ In which Heeseung doesn’t take it lightly to you getting too close to one of the frat guys at a college party…

pair: jock!heeseung ㅊ thick gf!reader | warnings: smut, pwp, angst ??, fluff, mentions of drinking & smoking (weed), jealousy, upset heeseung but also soft, argument, hee almost fucks things up (relationship wise) + hot makeup s.x, spanking, shaking, fingering, oral (f. rec), piv, creampie | words: 2.6k

decided to make another jock!hee fic bc the first one i made got rlly popular ! i wanted to showcase more of what goes on in their lives and relationship lol, enjoyyy <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

you were chosen as tonight’s designated driver, per usual. one of your roommates invited you to her senior’s after exams party and of course you had to bring your significant other along with you for protection. though you weren’t planning on doing anything crazy, there was no way in hell heeseung wasn’t getting high tonight; plus with all the heavy drinks jay managed to sneak into his dorm, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d gotten drunk either.

“jake, it’s your go !” heeseung slurs a bit, sipping from his red solo cup. “shit, my bad, it’s my win anyway.” jake places his play in a set of three on the table, a sly smirk fixed on his features, flexing his cockiness.

“oh, fuck you..” heeseung spits, dramatically tossing his cards onto the table, earning a light chuckle from you.

“where are you going ?” you watched as his body elevated from his last position.

“out of drink.” he pouts, ruffling his hand through your hair. “you coming with ?” his hand lifts yours in a way to pull you upwards.

“no.. don’ feel like it,” you gave him a soft smile, tapping his waist. “but make it quick !”

with that his slim body conjured into the kitchen, where a small bar had been made. everyone else who’d been playing terrible plays of poker kingdom were either now making out, drinking, smoking, or just left in general. yet here you are, bored out of your mind and couldn’t drink at all, pulling out your phone as you waited patiently for your boyfriend to come back.

it’s been 20 minutes… what could possibly be taking so long? that’s all that ran over your mind before you actually got up to go find him yourself. you feel like you need a leash on that boy sometimes.. scanning each crowd, different colonies of people in groups, some even scattered. that’s when your eyes landed on a familiar figure— jay, but this time he seemed free.

๑ ๑ ๑

“i really do have a girlfriend,” heeseung said loud enough for the random girl to hear over the blaring music.

“oh, trust me i wouldn’t take a guy as handsome as you to not be taken,” she spoke, “but it doesn’t seem like she’s here right now.”

he’s now come to realize that it had been awhile since he were waiting on his drink, and started to scan the area looking for you. you were with jay, a kind but natural flirt, hell, owner of this party. you asked him to help you look around for your boyfriend, since you were growing concerned. and he did so, checking everywhere even all the rooms.. once heeseung’s eyes bounced to your figure, he was visibly upset at what he saw.

“yeah no, fuck outta here” he scoffs, the drink became completely irrelevant to him now and ditched the annoying girl. you could be fucking around with his close friend as of now and that thought alone sobered him up to a peak. why the hell are they going into a room, at a party..? he knew his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him and he may be a little drunk/high but he’s not stupid. he wanted to come up with a logical reason but he couldn’t, that’s all he could think as he stepped closer and closer to the door you and jay hid behind.

you both had vanished from the hallway of doors before he’d even gotten there, opting to check the bar instead, only to find the perky girl who’d talked to him before. heeseung was so confused, but it didn’t stop him from rummaging from room to room. only making him angrier that you weren’t in any of them, and neither was jay. his hand dove into the back pocket of his jeans to ring your number. when you answered, his voice immediately aired through the speaker.

“y/n, where the hell are you ?! ” he drunkenly grumbles. you only laugh, you couldn’t help yourself. “hello ? .. ” you laughed again.

when you began to worry about heeseung being intoxicated and wandering around a party full of girls the panic settled in quickly. so, jay being the gentleman nobody thinks he is, tries to ease your mind with jokes to cheer you up as you kept looking around. that being while you were still on the phone, struggling to answer. “hello?..”

“y/n, can you hear me ??” he says for the millionth time already, voice laced with aggravated undertones.

“hello ? who is this ??” you hadn’t checked the caller id and you were far too occupied with finding heeseung. the music was far too loud and as you couldn’t hear any responses, you just hung up.

“what the actual fuck…” heeseung was more pissed off than confused, he couldn’t believe you’d just hang up on him like that. were his suspicions actually true ??

๑ ๑ ๑

“wanna try the balcony next ?” jay suggests as he’s slowly running out of options of where he could be, he knew he had to be in this house somewhere— heeseung would never just up and leave without you.

“sure!” you nod, following behind him as he lead you outside.

meanwhile, heeseung’s driving himself to a new level of insanity from not being able to find you. he thinks of anywhere else you could’ve run to and the last and only place he hadn’t checked yet— the balcony. he could only hope you were out there or he’s going to be worried sick. his fingers curl around the handle of the sliding door opening it to a surprised jay, and an even more shocked, you. both of your eyes darting to heeseung as soon as his figure leaned into frame.

“get the fuck up.” heeseung’s eyes glared at your being in utter annoyance.

“hee, i was looking for you!” you followed as he said, capturing his arms in yours only to your surprise he’d let go.

“jay, do you mind ?” the extra had gotten the message quickly and he just headed back inside to his packed habitat.

“where did you go baby, i couldn’t find you..” you say, looking into his eyes in honesty noticing the atmospheres gotten heavy.

“where did i go?? y/n, where did YOU go ?!” his figure shifts, staring at you in utter disgust. his mind was taking him to all kinds of places, places he never wanted to see, think, or hear of.

“to look for you? i said that already.” your brows furrowed.

“hmm, that's crazy cause i was doing the same thing.” he wanted to cut to the chase. “couldn’t find me so you just wandered off with jay ?? huh?”

“what ?? is that how low you think of me ? heeseung ??” your hands reach your hips. you can’t help but be offended. your boyfriend thought you were jacking off with his friend of all people. you had a reason to be.

“i mean it’s what it looked like !” he crosses his arms across his chest as he gritted through his teeth. “knew you shouldn’t have worn this outfit, it’s too revealing, bet you were the talk of the whole night..”

“wow,” you scoff, your body now facing another direction. you couldn’t believe him right now, first he accuses you of being with jay and now he’s acting insecure all because you wanted to wear a cute skirt. you don’t wear those quite often so it took a lot of courage for you to, but now you’re just second guessing everything.

“i’m talking to you, y/n. look at me.” you were flabbergasted, talk to him ?? what about how he openly admits you would cheat on him, or how he’s criticizing you for simply wearing something out of your comfort zone.

“well, i’m done talking.”

“fine, get to the car. we’re leaving.” you completely ignored him but had done as he said. he was fully sober by now, you were sure. he followed you not so long after storming out of the front door and once in the car, he slammed the door behind him.

๑ ๑ ๑

the drive from jay’s place was filled with a weird tension in the air, you noticed heeseung giving you glances from time to time checking up on you, but you weren’t to budge until he apologized to you. he thought you were for the team, when he knows you’re his, and only his. the car pauses once in the alignment of your driveway. to your dismay, you hear the doors locking while you’re still inside.

“let me out, hee.” you sigh heavily, gripping on the door handle.

“babe, can we talk first..” you couldn’t believe it, he wants to talk to you ?? really ?? the ‘friend fucker??’ how funny, you glare at him.

“what heeseung, i’m really tired.” you avert your gaze into the window.

“i’m sorry, i-” you cut him off. “you’re sorry ?! wow ?? when you should have been earlier ?? where was this apology earlier heeseung, when you actually hurt me.” your voice raised a notch.

“you know it was the heat of the moment, what’d you want me to think?? ‘oh she’s definitely not with the flirtiest guy on campus, yeah he totally doesn’t wanna fuck my hot girlfriend’.” he mocked a slight pitch change in his voice.

your mouth gaped. “are you really sorry or do you just wanna sleep next to me ??” you asked, you knew he couldn’t sleep alone, he needed you by his side.

“how about both. you know i mean it y/n. you’re just upset.” he plays with the steering wheel.

“dont tell me what i am, now let me out.” you grimace.

he clearly got upset by this, “you aren’t even trying to ease up the problem here ! and then later on you know you’re gonna pin everything on me. knowing damn well i tried fixing things.” he wavered his hands in the air as he spoke, he was kinda right yet you just didn’t like the way he was going about it. yes, he is trying to apologize, but you couldn’t help but still be mad.

“i get that, thanks for your apology.. but i don’t like how you spoke to me earlier.” your eyes fixate on his own. you felt the air tighten, you always did. there was genuine remorse in his eyes, you felt it.

hell, your man had the prettiest face you’d ever seen. and hell, he looked so sexy when he’s mad, and especially now, when he’s sorry. you simply wanted to tear him apart. his hand reaches yours and as he got the chance he wanted to show you how sorry he truly was. the softness of his lips caressed yours. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t wet right now. how couldn’t you be…

๑ ๑ ๑

“mm.. hee ..” you whined as the weight of his lips on yours lightened.

“i don’ wanna apologize to you in here,” he finally unlocked the doors. “get your pretty ass upstairs.”

his eyes traced your body, longing towards the way your pretty thighs look.. then gazing up at your ass as you complied, leaving your skirt riding up it’s soft exterior. an immediate tent grew in his pants. the one thing he loved most about you body wise, had to be your ass. it molded into his hands just perfectly. and it replied to any friction he applied to it on command. he loved how red and bruised it got once his hands launched across it’s surface. and how he’d sometimes be able to see his own handprints. you were the sexiest woman he’s ever laid his eyes on.

๑ ๑ ๑

“nggh, hee.. yes, please..” you drool out at the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as he pounded against you. “fuck me baby, fuck me!” you yelp when you feel his nails gripping into your waist.

“you want it baby, huh, you want it so deep in you don’t you, huh ???” his lips caressed your neck as he grabs onto your leg to inch himself more into you.

“you’re close? mhm, you like how i fuck you sloppy? such a dirty slut for me ..” he chuckled as he felt you clench around his length at his dirty words. “open your mouth. when i speak to you” his fingers lazily run circles around your clit.

you couldn’t mutter a single word, he’d fucked you completely dumb, your orgasm swelled up so deep inside you. you felt like you could puke but you didn’t want it to stop. you never wanted it to end.

“hah.. shit baby, ‘m gonna cum..” your nails grip his forearms, your arms pushing your boobs together caging them in.

he groaned at the beautiful sight below him, leaning down onto your nakedness caressing one of your nipples with his tongue. your stomach tingled, by the time you knew it your orgasm peaked, leaving his cock all messy of your juices. you whined as he pulls out, looking down at your folds and spreading them before grazing his mouth over your heat, flicking his tongue on your already overly sensitive bud. you could cry right in this moment from just how heavenly your boyfriend was making you feel. you held onto him for dear life as he buried his face between your plush thighs, the lewd sounds filling the room as he drank you.

“turn over.” he demands once coming back up for air again, you obey straight away, laying onto your stomach, letting out heavy breaths as your body ached.

heeseung lifted your hips, putting you on all fours.

“can you take some more for me baby? ‘m close..” he puckers kisses all over your ass and waist, heeseung hadn’t came yet. he kinda has this weird game in his head where he tries to see how long he can last until he physically just can’t take it anymore. it’s oddly satisfying in the end because not only does he cum so much more but he gets to fuck you even longer, it’s a win win in his book !

“mhm.. more baby !” you respond quickly, you were greedy as fuck for his cock and he loved that you were just as horny as him.

with that, he were thrusting like no tomorrow into your tight cunt. a loud slap to your ass comes with full force, barely giving you any time to react. your body jerks forward, jaw locked in place as you grab onto the sheets to keep you stable. your head was empty, no thoughts other than how good heeseung was fucking you like his life depends on it.

“pussy made just for me, you feel so good baby. you love milking my cock, don’t you?” his moaning reached another level of loud. it was so sexy..

“all yours baby, please come in me ! fill me up hee !!” he pulled out before thrashing back in, noticing the white ring around his dick changing sizes everytime his length swipes through your core.

“that’s right, yeah baby, where do you want it ??” his pace quickens, you can barely catch your breath. you felt your high returning, his high approaching quicker as you clench around him, once more.

“inside ! oh please inside me !!” you turn your head towards him giving him a pleading look, a look that stroked his ego a little too much. you felt his jizz filling you up and leaking from your open as he slid himself from you.

“baby!.. i’m not done..” you pouted.

“i know, i know. don’t worry princess.” you felt two of his digits thrusting into you, biting your lip as he made your back arch in surprise.

your hand grips the sheets of the bed even tighter as the other played over your thirsty clit. and with just a curl, you bursted. whines filling the room, your body collapsing and a shaky sigh leaving your body as you rub your legs together to stop the throb, your lover felt accomplished with the result.

“shaking orgasm.” he chuckled, his fingers traced lines along the slope of your waist and his lips finding place on yours.

what an apology. you felt lush. (つω`｡)

THNX FOR 450+ FOLLOWERS YA’LL WTF, it’s only been like 2 weeks on this acc :’)) i appreciate all of u for reading my content hehe ♡︎

[merchen-aeravellae]

A Yandere Through Time

Yandere Time Traveler x Royal Reader

Warnings: stalking, kidnapping, forced confinement, obsession

No one knows who created it, but every owner of the mysterious mirror has met a fate so tragic it chills anyone to the bone. The mirror appeared out of nowhere, wandering from hand to hand, from life to life. At first glance, it seems like a blessing, but in reality, it is a curse in disguise. If you cross paths with it, beware: it offers you your deepest desire, but the price is your sanity.

°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●

Yandere Time Traveler who is dedicated to collecting antiques, a passion that has been passed down through generations in his family since the famous Rosa Era. Each member of his lineage has their own personal museum. His collection not only includes legally acquired pieces but also artifacts that the world does not know exist and are in his possession.

Yandere Time Traveler who is mainly dedicated to purchasing items from the Roja Era, not because it is his favorite time period, but because his favorite person lived during that time. The fifth child of a king who ruled what is now his city, the castle where they lived still stands proudly on the outskirts of the city, now converted into a museum that he visits weekly as a way to be close to his beloved

Yandere Time Traveler who has been intrigued by your story since childhood: a member of the royal family beloved by his family, the common people, and even his enemies. One day, you disappeared from your own home, and no one ever heard from you again. Everyone searched exhaustively for decades but never found you. A group of people tried to exploit the situation by impersonating you to gain all the luxuries and privileges that rightfully belonged to you. Only one person resembled you both in appearance and manner of speaking. The only problem was that nearly 70 years had passed since your disappearance, and this person was too young to be you. In the end, their husband had to clarify that they were suffering from mental issues, and as a result, no one took them seriously.

Yandere Time Traveler who feels like a lunatic: how could he be in love with someone who lived nearly two hundred years ago? However, he has always felt a connection to you, and the only way he finds to be near you is by acquiring all your belongings through illegal auctions. Selling and buying items related to you is prohibited in his country; museums tirelessly search for all your belongings across the continent to display them alongside those of your family. But he is faster and acquires everything before the museums can get their hands on it.

Yandere Time Traveler who, of all your belongings, has searched the black markets most fervently for your hat. In the Roja Era, royalty did not use crowns to show their lineage; instead, they used special and unique hats to demonstrate their noble position. The hats of your sisters and brothers are in the castle museum, but yours was never found. The theory is that you wore it the day you disappeared, and wherever you are, the hat is with you.

Yandere Time Traveler who acquired a mirror from an antique shop during a sale. He didn't know what era it was from, but its beauty convinced him to place it in the room dedicated to you. The mirror carried a dark legend: all its owners ended up losing their sanity or disappearing without a trace. However, he was not intimidated, believing it was just people's tales. He was sure you would have been fascinated by it, imagining you using it to admire your reflection while trying on clothes.

Yandere Time Traveler who, one night, woke up startled by strange noises coming from a nearby room. With silent steps, he approached to discover the source of the sound, but his concern grew when he realized the noises were coming from the room dedicated to his beloved. He immediately thought someone had broken in to steal something from his valuable collection. Wasting no time, he grabbed a bat he had purchased a couple of weeks ago, perfect for defending himself against an intruder. Upon entering the room, he found no one, but the mirror looked different. Strange figures were forming on its surface, and he couldn't resist the temptation to touch it. It was as if the mirror was calling to him. However, the moment his fingers brushed against the glass, he lost consciousness.

Yandere Time Traveler who woke up with a terrible headache. As he opened his eyes, he realized he was lying on a wooden bed that creaked with the slightest movement. The room was unfamiliar, filled with objects that didn’t match his home. The walls were made of wood. Various items adorned the space, from wooden toys to old tools, along with portraits and simple household decorations. As his vision adjusted, he noticed a small window allowing the morning sunlight to illuminate the room. The smell of wax, burnt wood, and a faint scent of food filled his nose.

Yandere Time Traveler who panicked. He tried to get out of the bed to figure out where he was, but only succeeded in worsening his headache from the sudden movement. He heard footsteps coming toward him. Fear took over as he desperately looked for something to defend himself with. But before he could act, the door opened, and an old woman entered the room, calmly looking at him.

Yandere Time Traveler who discovered that he was in the house of an elderly couple. They had found him unconscious at their doorstep and, out of compassion, had taken care of him ever since. Maybe he had gone mad because nothing made sense. The date on the calendar in their house showed that it was 200 years before his own time. It wasn’t possible that he had traveled to the past. Maybe he had hit his head, and all of this was just a delusion, a hallucination caused by the injury. Perhaps he was in a hospital, in a coma, dreaming a nonsensical fantasy.

Yandere Time Traveler, unable to find a way back to his own time, was now trying to adjust to his new life. The elderly couple who had taken him in gave him work in their small antique shop and allowed him to live in their home. In return, he had to handle the heavier tasks, like feeding the animals, repairing anything that broke, and keeping the shop in order.

Yandere Time Traveler was organizing some items in the shop when he heard the bustle of a crowd outside. The voices and shouting filled the street, but he didn’t even bother looking out the window. He didn’t care what celebration or festival was taking place outside. Everything went quiet for a while until the shop bell rang. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone, but it was his job. With a fake smile, he greeted the customers who had entered.

Yandere Time Traveler was startled to see a familiar face. It wasn’t someone he had met in person, but someone he had seen in portraits—it was the crown princess of Adrionia. Adrionia was the name of his city when the monarchy still existed. Although he knew he was in the Roja Era, he never imagined he would meet a member of the royal family in a place like this. The heir was about to speak when a pair of voices interrupted from the hallway in front of them.

Yandere Time Traveler who was shocked to see the rest of the royal siblings there. His heart swelled with longing; if they were here, it meant that you must also be here. He couldn't help but search for you among the crowd, but he couldn’t find you. His hope deflated into sadness, until someone emerged from one of the back hallways, holding a trinket in their hands.

Yandere Time Traveler who wanted to die right then and there—you were standing before him, the love of his life. As you asked your sister to buy the trinket for you, he couldn’t help but admire you. You were even more beautiful in person; the paintings didn’t do you justice. He wanted to leap over the counter to be closer to you, but he knew if he did that, he'd be thrown into the dungeon. All he could do was watch you from where he stood, his heart pounding at a thousand miles an hour.

Yandere Time Traveler who felt you so close, yet so unattainable. As he rang up your sister’s purchase, he never took his eyes off you for a second. He watched you with a mix of fascination and desperation, knowing that this might be the only time he’d ever be so near you. And just as you had appeared, you left. His world crumbled with each step you took toward the exit, moving further away from him.

Yandere Time Traveler who couldn’t stop thinking about you after that encounter. His heart filled with yearning to see you again. Now that he had seen you in the flesh, he couldn't allow everything to end with just one brief meeting. He needed to see you once more, needed you in his life in a more permanent, closer way. But he knew he couldn’t just approach you without a plan—and for that, he needed to scheme carefully.

Yandere Time Traveler who decided to use his knowledge of the past to his advantage. He began calling himself a prophet and would go out to the town square to “predict” events he already knew would happen soon. At first, people looked at him with skepticism, and many called him crazy. But when his predictions started coming true with eerie accuracy, everything changed. Word spread throughout the kingdom about his visions, and people gathered in the square to hear him speak. It wasn’t long before the royals heard of him and summoned him to the castle. Everything was going according to plan.

Yandere Time Traveler who was tested by the court, but he was ready for whatever challenge came his way. He “predicted” the betrayal of a court member, and a week later, a respected and seemingly unblemished noble was discovered stealing large sums from the royal treasury. The impressed kings offered him a permanent position at the castle. His goal was now within reach. Every day, he grew closer to you. He knew you better than you knew yourself and was confident that soon you would fall in love with him.

Yandere Time Traveler who, over time, befriended the royal family, but you were different. You seemed deeply distrustful of him. Every time he tried to approach you, you fled. If he entered a room through the door, you left through the window. The more frequent these encounters became, the more frustrated he felt. He left you gifts, but you discarded them. The letters he sent, you burned in the fireplace. And every time he tried to speak to you, you ignored him. Couldn’t you see that destiny was bringing you together? Why did you run from him as if he carried some contagious disease?

Yandere Time Traveler who knew he had to be patient, but every moment away from you felt like a blow to the heart. Then, during a casual meeting with your brothers, everything he had worked for unraveled. Without meaning to, your brother let it slip that you were seeing someone in secret—a mere guard, someone far beneath him. He had to keep his composure; he couldn’t afford to break his facade in front of them. But all he wanted to do was rush out and bury that filthy man deep in the earth.

Yandere Time Traveler who now understood everything. You had always rejected his efforts because you already had someone in your life. The idea of you being with someone else was unbearable. Every touch, every word shared between you and that guard ignited a wildfire of jealousy within him. Just thinking about it made him feel sick. He needed to devise a new plan, so he decided to accuse your lover of trying to seduce you to rise in high society. The kings were furious with both you and your lover. The execution seemed imminent. However, something unexpected happened. On your knees, you begged your parents, saying it was all a misunderstanding. At other times, he would have loved to hear your voice, but at that moment, he wished you'd be quiet. You were ruining his plan and breaking his heart as he watched you plead for another man.

Yandere Time Traveler had to leave the castle for a few days; the whole situation was overwhelming him, and he feared he might do something that would compromise his facade. He returned to the shop where he had worked at the beginning. The old man greeted him cheerfully, happy to see him after such a long time. While the older man talked about everything that had happened in his absence, he wandered around the shop, looking at the new antiques that had arrived, hoping to distract his mind. Suddenly, something caught his attention: a mirror that seemed too familiar, sitting in a corner. He now knew how it had ended up in the couple's home. As he stared at it, an idea formed in his mind: "If I couldn't have you in your world, maybe I could in mine." With that thought in mind, he decided to buy the mirror, flashing a disturbing smile.

Yandere Time Traveler returned to the castle with his new treasure, eager to figure out how it worked as soon as possible, though it was easier said than done. It was during a fit of rage that he grabbed the bat he had brought with him to smash objects and vent his frustration. You had convinced your parents that your lover was a good man, and they had allowed you to marry him. He should have been that man, the one who would marry you, but his place had been taken. After breaking several objects in his fury, he left the bat leaning against the mirror and stormed out of the room, not noticing that the reflection in the mirror had begun to change.

Yandere Time Traveler who could only watch as you prepared for your wedding felt as if you were mocking him. Unable to bear it any longer, he retreated to his room to devise a plan. He would not let anyone else have you. Upon entering, he found something magnificent: the portal in the mirror was in all its glory. He gazed at the bat and suddenly, the idea of how it worked came to him. He had been so foolish; the answer was so simple, and he hadn’t seen it before. Now, you would be where you belonged, by his side, living in his own time, where you could never escape.

Yandere Time Traveler who sent you a letter pretending to be your brother to get you to the library. If you had known it was him, you never would have gone to meet him. The mirror was positioned in such a way that you couldn’t see it at a glance, and he would ambush you from behind. Hearing your footsteps approaching down the hallway, you entered and called out for your brother. He stood momentarily stunned, witnessing something he never thought he’d see: you were wearing your hat, the object he had longed to see all his life. But that feeling quickly faded when, angrily, you yelled at your "brother" to come out of hiding because you had a date with your fiancé and needed to leave immediately. The mention of the other man and the fact that you wore something as significant as your hat just to see his rival gave him the strength to push you into the portal, following closely behind.

Yandere Time Traveler who woke up on a floor that seemed familiar, was back in his own home. He watched as you lay unconscious beside him, and since he had already gone through the experience of the portal, he managed to get up before you. He reinforced all exits to ensure you couldn’t escape and then let you rest in what would now be his shared bedroom. Hours later, he heard a blood-curdling scream. He rushed to his room, but you were not there. He found you in the room he had dedicated exclusively to you. You tried to escape, but seeing such a room had frightened you so much that you couldn’t help but scream.

Yandere Time Traveler who pretended everything was fine for a while. You stayed at home while he went to work. It didn’t matter that you did nothing all day; he believed your hands weren’t meant for work. He preferred to do everything himself to keep you content. One night, upon returning from work, he noticed something strange: the house felt too silent. Although he was convinced there was no way you could have escaped, his home felt empty. He searched every corner, but there was no sign of your presence. As he pondered where you could be, his gaze fell on the mirror.

Yandere Time Traveler who had underestimated you. You had managed to find a way to use the mirror while he was away, but he already had an idea of where you might be. Using the mirror, he traveled 70 years after the date of your disappearance. True to his assumption, he quickly found you; everyone knew you for trying to claim that you were the missing royal member, even though that was now impossible. He approached you slowly from behind while you were talking to a couple of people, trying to convince them of your identity. He placed an arm around your shoulders, noticing how your skin prickled. He was too angry to care about the effect he was having on you. With a fake worried look, he explained to the people that you were his fiancée, but that you were suffering from dementia. The people left, leaving the two of you alone.

Yandere Time Traveler who took you back to his time, determined not to make the same mistake. With the bat he had used earlier, he gathered all his strength and smashed the mirror into pieces while you screamed for him to stop. His rage was relentless; he hit the mirror so many times that it became irreparable. When he finished, he embraced you while you cried out loud, knowing that your only escape had been destroyed. He tried to comfort you, whispering soothing words, but his attempts at calm only had the opposite effect. Every whisper and every caress only heightened your desperation, reminding you that you were now trapped with a lunatic, with no hope of returning.

Yandere Time Traveler "No matter what era you're in, I will always find a way to find you."

[notsoverymerry]

Boyfriend (j.yh x reader)

<jeong yunho x fem!reader>

summary: You can't believe you're dating Yunho. Others can't either.

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), fluff, use of pet-names a/n: let me know literally anything about this :) word count ~3.6k

You were dating Jeong Yunho; you really were. 

You went on dates, held hands, kissed, and said the cheesiest, most sweetest, tooth-rotting things to each other. All the time. And yet, none of the boys had caught up. By some mysterious miracle or rather an ominous curse, guys and the staff have considered you two to be just really good friends. You could've screamed love proclamations at each other from mountaintops, and nobody would take that seriously. His habit of calling you his little bro, or some variation of that, as a pet name did not help in the slightest.

At first, it was funny. Just at the beginning of your relationship, when you intended to keep your fondness away from prying eyes and wanted to enjoy exploring each other in this new, intimate side of things, having people consider you pals was great. You can recall Seonghwa making a few remarks about how cute you would look together, but it was dismissed rather quickly. The first time it happened, you totally saw Yunho's ears go red, him stammering out something about friendships and trust and members making you uncomfortable. 

At the end of your third date, you were sure you wanted this man next to you for life. He took you to the aquarium. It was a cliché, but it's something you have always dreamed of. You love animals, love to learn new things, and you think you love Jeong Yunho. He looked dashing in just a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater; your heart definitely skipped a beat when he smiled, hands reaching to greet you in a short embrace. It skipped a beat again when you heard him laugh lightly at some joke you made. And again, when his hand brushed against yours as you walked to your destination. Stepping into a room with tiny fish specimens showcased in various tanks, blue lights now illuminated his frame and those round sparkling eyes. Your heart doesn't seem to work correctly. 

Few hours went flying. You took pictures. Half of them when he wasn't paying attention. You told him he looks like the prettiest starfish they have and didn't miss his cheeks darkening with blush even in the dim lights. Not too long had passed before you started to point out funky ones to each other, exclaiming, 'You!' and laughing. After a particularly accurate comparison of you to a dwarf puffer ('Dwarf puffers are aggressive, sensitive, and active' the sign read), he reached and intertwined your fingers, not a single hint of trying to hurt you with that juxtaposition, his eyes full of adoration, a huge smile on his face. You could have just kissed him.

He insisted on ice cream later in the evening. You were just heading out the shop when you bumped into Mingi. Faces red but happy, Yunho's arm hugging you to his side, a small bag of sweet treats in his hand. It took a second for Song Mingi to take the sight in. And another second for him to smile and greet you, to ask how's it going and where you're going to go.

''Oh, my girlfriend and I are just going to relax somewhere in the park nearby.''

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Girlfriend. You can definitely get used to being called his girlfriend. And then it happened. Cue Mingi's cluelessness, or the fact that he's just tired from their hectic schedules. 

''Man, it's great that you can be so close with each other and aren't afraid someone will mistake you for a couple. If you could act a bit better, maybe you'd even get a discount sometime!'' With that, he was gone. 

There was a little tradition your small company liked to keep. Board games. 

Every once in a while, when everyone wasn't busy, you'd spend an evening playing, talking, lightly drinking, and overall just relaxing. Adult life could take a really boring turn, the one that only had 'road work ahead, and so should you' sign. Bills, taxes, colleagues being stressed and mean, and yada-yada. Idol life was probably even worse. 

There was some catching up due, and this Saturday night seemed just the perfect opportunity. The lot of you chose a game, lo-fi music was put on for background, and the living room area was cleaned so up to ten people could comfortably sit in a circle. Drinks were cold and ready to be handed out. 

You took a seat in between your beloved Yuyu and Yeosang, a dear friend of yours who got you in the group. You'd expect him to know your heart of all people. Although when you told him about your new boyfriend, all he did was laugh and say that was a good one. 

Bewilderment washed over you in a tidal wave. It showed up on your face, swimming behind your eyes and overflowing in a strangled sound from your lips. And you, Yeosang? With your confused and hurt whimper, the topic was brought to everyone's attention. 

''Did you guys know y/n likes Yunho?'' Maybe it was the alcohol, but you heard more laughter. 

''Oh? But y/n likes all of us, don't you?''

''Well, yes, but—'' you were not going to finish that sentence. He heard what he wanted.

''See?'' Wooyoung looked so smug; if your brain wasn't so busy being confused, you'd be infuriated. Right now you looked like there was a loading circle turning in your head. Hopefully you won't bluescreen. 

''Are you guys pulling my leg?''

''Are you? Seriously, you and Yunho.'' There came a playful nudge to your side. 

You wanted to protest, to ask your boyfriend to back you up, but turning to him, you saw his eyes creased by a smile. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to say that it's fine and they will catch up to it eventually. He knew it was going to take them a while. And with his hand lightly caressing your back, your anger dissipated, replaced by a warm feeling inside your chest. Was it always so hot in here?

''Just relax, little pal. I got you.''

A while has passed before you decided to be openly affectionate, at least around those closest to you. 

It was a day off for the both of you. You planned on going out, but upon seeing your boyfriend's tired eyes, you opted to offer a quiet night in. Weather seemed to agree with that, given that it started raining against the broadcast's best predictions. 

You were met with Hongjoong, who opened the door and let you in. When you entered their living room, you saw Yunho, still in sweatpants and a big shirt, holding a steaming mug. 

''Hey.'' He said, ''Isn't it my favorite little dude!''

''Hello, honey.''

The warmth in your voices could melt the arctic icebergs. You took a few moments just to look at each other, gentle smiles tugging at the corners of your mouths. 

''Oh, hey, bro! I'm also in the room, where's my sweet greeting?''

It was San, a pout already present on his sleepy face. 

''You'd get it when you have a girlfriend.''

The day was spent in the comfort of their couch, with soft cushions and comforters draped around. None of you cared for the cancelled plans, not really, when all you ever wanted was to be in each other's presence. That was enough. Several movies were watched, hot tea keeping the cozy atmosphere company. You were cuddled with Yunho, feeling warm and giddy. That's when Seonghwa made another comment about how cute the two of you were. 

''But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, y/n. Don't take this close to heart. We know there's nothing romantic going on.''

It was as though they were doing it on purpose.

''It's okay, Seonghwa; we are together. Like, I love him and all that.''

Your voice was steady, your face was serious, and yet…

''Of course you are,'' San almost scoffed. ''But that behavior is exactly why you can't get a date these days. People see Yunho and don't dare approach you.''

A light chuckle could be heard from the room; Yunho also couldn't contain his. The more blunt you were at stating your relationship status, the more oblivious band members became. 

''Little broski is saying she doesn't need a date. She has me. Right, darling?''

Yunho was being honest. You nod at him, darting your eyes back at your friends in hopes of seeing the realization there. Yet, his playful tone and charming smile did nothing to convince the others. It's not like you've been actively trying to make them believe you were an item. Though now it seemed to irritate you a bit. Was it really that hard to imagine you and Jeong Yunho together? Were you not good enough in their eyes? Or was it his habit of calling you bro? You never knew. 

''Why is it so hard for you to believe we're dating, though?''

You voiced your thoughts, needing to know the answer now.

''Y/n, love… You'd date a reputable scam artist before Yunho; we know that much. You'd probably even date Hongjoong first if-''

''I can hear that!''

That was the captain's answer from the kitchen.

''A reputable scam artist?''

That was your confused reply. What does that even mean?

''And what is so wrong with dating me? I'm handsome, I'm charming, and so, so funny! A real treat. I could also be a scam artist if I really wanted to.''

A strangled sound tore from your chest.

''See? That's a laugh.''

There was another. He was not at all interested in proving them wrong.

You couldn't believe your luck when you showed up at the dorms a week later and no one was there. 

Yunho had called you, asking you to come in, some mischevous spark laced in his tone. It turns out, the boys had work, and those who didn't decided on spending the day outside. There was undoubtedly a need for shopping for essential items, as well as just a bit of fresh air and relaxation for those workaholics. Well deserved. Yunho needed it too. So when he asked if you could just cuddle him a bit and maybe cook something easy later, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny this request.

His bed? Soft. His body? Warm. Hands? Big and strong and held you against him perfectly. You were happy. You basked in the feeling of his chest pressed against your back, like puzzle pieces, you thought. You traced the veins on his arms, switching to play with his fingers from time to time. This feels nice. This feels so right. How could his members not see this? You were practically made for each other. You decided to bring it up.

''Why do you think our friends don't take us seriously?''

He let out an amused hum, his breath fanning over your neck. 

''I dunno. Maybe they all want you, just can't take the fact I already hogged you for myself.''

He hugged you tighter. In all honesty, that was distracting. How could you think about other guys, about anything else, really, when your big and strong boyfriend held you so tenderly against himself? The thought of him wanting you and caring for you as much as you did for him should melt your heart. Instead, with the way his fingers played with your shirt, caressing your skin where it had rode up, it sent hot waves someplace else. Were you cruel enough to ruin this perfect cuddle session with your dirty thoughts? 

''You're here, love?'' His hand went up to cradle your face. 

Turning to him, you couldn't avoid looking at his lips. So pink and soft. You know just how nice they feel against yours. Your eyes had darkened already, the feelings you had for this man had your head all dizzy. Without much thinking, you moved forward, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. You felt his breath hitch. A tiny sound tried to escape his throat, but your mouth didn't let it. His hands moved to your waist again, holding you even closer.

You put your hands in his hair. You just couldn't resist massaging his scalp and tugging gently, soft locks slipping through your fingers. And god were you rewarded with another sound from him, right into your lips, chest reverberating against yours. He stopped kissing you; for a moment he just needed to look at your face. Rose hue on your cheeks and blown eyes — no doubt he looked the same. 

''I see,'' he chucled. Hands roaming your body, skimming your sides. ''You're so amazing. I can't get enough of you, my little bro.''

There it was again. The way he said it was ethereal. His voice so soft and perfectly low, his eyes dark and full of adoration. But it was the bro part that got your mind out of the gutter. Only for a moment, though.

''I want to make love to you so badly,'' you started. He sucked in a breath. His eyes fixated on your face, jumping over to your lips for a second. ''But please, stop with the bro thing. You can put that mouth to better use.''

''I'll be good,'' is his promise. 

With that, he leaned in to kiss you again. This time pressing into you harder, needier. You couldn't control yourself any longer, too. With a soft moan, he moved even closer, almost getting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. And it feels, oh, so good. You bite on his lower lip carefully, anything to hear his beautiful sounds again. You let him take the lead, tongue gliding over yours. He moans at the taste. 

Tongue keeps rooling over yours; he lets his hands slide under your shirt. He kneads your breasts, then moves his hands over to grab at your hips and thighs, and back under your shirt again. You feel on fire. You want him to touch you everywhere at once; you want to touch him even more. You're the first to give in, reaching to help him take his t-shirt off. 

He's gorgeous. Hair a bit messy, lips glossy and red from the kiss. He pants a little, and you reach to glide your hand over his abs and chest, circling over his nipple. You can hear a tiny pleased sound leaving him, but it's not enough. He reattaches himself to you right away, mouth finding your neck. He kisses, bites, and licks at your most sensitive spots. You take him back gladly, hugging him close and moving your hips to meet his. He seems eager to do the same, another perfect sound leaves his lips. It's a groan, and it's right into your ear, and it makes your head spin. 

''God, you feel amazing.'' He breathes out, and you can't take it anymore. You want him, you need him with you, on you, in you. Your clothes get swiftly discarded, that eagerness earning you a quiet snicker. You don't care; your brain is in a fog, Yunho is the only thing on your mind.

''Please, touch me.'' you ask, settled in his sheets and looking up in his eyes, dark pools filled with lust to the brim. 

He obliges, positioning himself at your side. ''How do you want it, baby?'' He asks, but his hands are already on you. He groups your breasts once more, bringing his mouth to suck at your neck, moving down until he can lick your nipple. He plays with you as he pleases, kneading your skin and ghosting over the area where you want him the most. ''Please,'' you whine. 

''What? Isn't it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?''

He moves his hand to massage your thighs so close to your hot core, playing with your inner thighs, pinching slightly. You start to buck your hips involuntarily. Oh, but then he moves it over your belly to your nipples again. You tug at his hands and whine again. With more and more whimpering coming from you, he surrenders. 

Long fingers find your sticky folds to roll through them. The sound you let out makes his dick twitch in his underwear. When he finally pays attention to your clit, you feel exstatic. You look at him, at his concentrated face as he plays with you. You're lost in this feeling, lost in him. His fingers enter you suddenly, and you try to say something, but no real words come out. All you can think of is how good he feels inside of you. Your fingers can never do what his long ones can. They strech you a bit, just enough to feel this sweet pressure and leave you wanting more. Just enough to reach that gummy spot there that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. 

''You look so good like this, fuck.'' He praises. His voice brings you back to reality. ''So fucked out already, and I barely even done anything.'' 

You want to protest, to say that you are not fucked out yet, but the way your walls clench around his fingers is a dead giveaway. You are losing your mind a little. Can he really blame you, though, when he's the one pressing on that spot inside of you, so, so well. You can't really say anything, the only sounds escaping are your moans. Yunho thinks your voice sounds like honey, so sweet and thick with arousal. He bucks his hips against you, breathing deeply.

You reach for his cock, still trapped in his sweats and boxers. Suddenly, the fabric is just so frustrating. He lets out an airy laugh at your feeble attempt at touching him, taking his fingers out. You mewl at sudden loss pathetically. 

''What's wrong, love? Do you miss me already?''

He leaves your side not even for a minute, but it feels like forever. With a teasing grin, he discards the rest of his clothing and finally climbs back to bed, now on top of you. It's great. He's big and pinning you down and pressing to you just right. 

You want him inside, so you try to shift a little, make it more comfortable for him to finally fuck you, but he doesn't budge. The look you're giving his way is comical. You're flushed and needy, and there's that throbber almost visible on your forehead again. Your boyfriend doesn't give you time to ask, diving into another heated kiss with you. Your moan is bordering on a sob when he opts to fuck your mouth with his tongue instead of fucking you like you desperately need him to. 

When at last he's lining his cock up with your slit, you think you're actually going to cry. He's so hard and so big, the stretch feels euphoric. Pleasure overtakes and your eyes flutter shut as he slowly bottoms out. 

''Keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby.'' 

His words come out in a mix of a moan and a growl. You swear you could come just listening to him, hand-free and all that. You open your eyes, and the sight is breathtaking. He moves inside of you, your walls feel hot and tight and like the most expensive velvet. You can see all of that in his eyes. He feels so good, and you're the one making him hiss and groan in pleasure, his mouth forming the perfect O's and stuttering muddled praises. God, you love him.

You can't keep thinking about it for much longer. The pace he's set becomes a bit faster and sloppier, and he reaches his hand in between your bodies to put pressure on your clit. With it comes his strangled warning, '' 'm close, honey.'' And you can feel it, too. His dick hits that spot in you just right, and with your clit stimulated, the familiar feeling is building in your stomach faster and faster. ''Me too,'' your eyes close without you realizing it, and with a cry of his name, you come all over his cock. A string of curses follows, and you feel him twitch, hips stilling, and warm liquid fills you up. 

You take a minute to come down to earth again, and so does he. Leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek, he rolls over beside you, still panting a little. 

''Fuck. My baby, you did so well.'' 

You're not sure how it is possible to feel so giddy and syrupy after being so unbelievably horny just a second ago. Guess he has that effect on you.

''It was amazing, Yuyu. I love you, so much.''

''I love you too.''

He drapes his blanket over the both of you, snuggling closer, stroking your hair with your head on his chest. You want to say more cheesy things to him. Just as you open your mouth, though, there's a knock on the door, and Mingi's figure pops in, hand covering his eyes.

''Are you guys done? Please tell me you're decent; I do not want to see y/n's boobs or worse!'' 

You yelp, tugging the covers to your chin. Both Yunho and you decide to speak.

''We're decent.'' 

''When did you come back?!''

''Just in time to hear the closing credits.''

Mingi is now taking in the scene. Clothes scattered on the floor, Yunho's disheveled look, you trying to hide in the blanket. Lovely.

''I am traumatized, by the way.''

''What's that supposed to mean?''

''We brought beef, by the way. Wanna join us in the kitchen?''

You're lost. You don't know if you should feel embarrassed or offended. Mingi doesn't bat an eye at your barely covered form. At least that's what it feels like.

''Let us maybe get dressed first?'' Yunho chimes in, hugging you to him to try and cover himself a bit too. 

Mingi leaves, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You start to shift a bit when the door gets burst open once again, followed by, ''Wait, so you are actually dating?!''

[axeeglitter]

Uber Frat

Tom had driven this route a hundred times before. The streets near the university were alive with students barhopping, loud music booming from nearby frat houses. His Uber beeped as a new ride request came in from Delta Sigma Gamma, one of the more notorious frats, known for their cocky jocks and constant partying. He sighed, not particularly excited about the prospect of dealing with another drunk frat boy.

The rider’s name popped up on his phone: Ryan.

"Another one of these guys," Tom muttered to himself, already dreading the ride. At thirty-five, Tom was happy with his life. He was engaged to Sarah, his high school sweet heart, and they were planning their wedding. Driving Uber was just a way to save up a little extra for the wedding. He was a simple guy; routine, stability, and a future with Sarah. He had no interest in wild parties or the frat life he’d never had.

When he pulled up to the massive Delta Sigma house, a shirtless, muscular figure stumbled out, carrying the telltale swagger of someone who had downed far too many beers. Ryan was massive, broad-shouldered, thick arms, chest bursting out of his soaked tank top. His feet dragged a little as he approached the car, and when he opened the door, the powerful stench of sweat and musk hit Tom like a truck.

Ryan collapsed into the backseat, reeking of alcohol, but worse than that, his scent was overpowering, the smell of sweat-soaked skin and dirty gym socks filling the car immediately. Tom gagged but tried to keep it under control.

“Yo, driver!” Ryan slurred, kicking off his sneakers without a care and slapping his socked feet right between the two front seats on the arm rest “Take me to the next bar, bro.”

“Uh, can you put your feet down?” Tom asked, his voice tight with irritation.

Ryan didn’t even glance at him, wiggling his toes lazily. “Nah, man, you’ll get used to it. Just like everyone else. This is how it is when you’re part of the brotherhood.” His voice was thick with drunken confidence, a cocky grin spreading across his face.

“Look, man, I’m just trying to do my job,” Tom said, irritation rising as the smell intensified, like sour sweat and musk combining to form something nearly tangible.

Ryan chuckled, the sound low and mocking. “You think you’re better than us, huh? Driving your Uber, going back to your little pathetic, boring life, playing it all straight and safe. You don’t even know what you’re missing, bro.”

Tom glanced in the rearview mirror, trying to keep his temper in check. “I’m just trying to get you where you need to go.”

Ryan leaned forward; his eyes gleaming. “Yeah, well, maybe where you need to go isn’t where you think. You ever think about that? You’re just waiting for someone to show you the way.”

Before Tom could respond, Ryan started to laugh under his breath, a weird sound emitting from his mouth. The air in the car shifted, growing thick, almost suffocating. Tom felt his heart rate spike as a sudden, intense heat spread through his body, followed by a strange tingling sensation.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tom snapped, panic rising as his muscles began to twitch uncontrollably.

Ryan smirked. “Don’t worry, bro. You’re about to find out what it’s like to really live.”

Tom’s breath caught in his throat as the tingling spread, intensifying into sharp, searing pain. His body felt like it was on fire from the inside out, muscles spasming and bones popping. His hands, gripping the steering wheel tightly, began to thicken before his very eyes. His fingers lengthened, widening as his palms became rough and calloused, swelling with new, brute strength.

“No… what’s happening?” Tom gasped, watching in horror as his forearms bulged, veins popping out against his skin. His arms were growing, muscle piling onto muscle, forcing his sleeves to stretch tight against his biceps and forearms.

Ryan leaned back, grinning. “It’s starting, bro. You’re just getting jacked like the rest of us.”

Tom could feel his chest expanding, pecs pushing out as his once-slender frame grew broader and wider. His shirt strained against the sheer bulk of his chest, the fabric barely able to contain the growing mass of muscle beneath it. His ribs cracked, reforming to accommodate the new size of his upper body.

With a groan of agony, Tom’s spine elongated, forcing him to hunch forward in the seat as his height shot up. His back rippled with new muscle, his shoulders broadening into massive slabs of strength. The pain was unbearable, every bone in his body felt like it was being stretched and reshaped.

“Stop! Please, stop!” Tom begged, his voice shaky with fear, but his words only made Ryan grin wider.

“Why stop, bro? You’re looking real good now. Imagine how much the boys are gonna love you.” Said Ryan as he wiggled his toes.

Tom’s legs began to throb, his thighs thickening, swelling with raw power. His jeans ripped at the seams, unable to contain the bulging muscles that pushed outward. His calves, once average, now bulged with definition, covered in a layer of thick, coarse hair that sprouted up his legs, across his thighs, and up to his groin.

He felt a strange tug in his groin, and his breath hitched as his penis twitched, growing harder, swelling in size. His balls, once normal-sized, ballooned larger, filling with an almost unbearable pressure. The musk of Ryan’s feet, the overpowering scent that had once repelled him, now seemed intoxicating, and Tom could feel a growing hunger building in his chest.

“No… this isn’t me. This can’t be happening,” Tom whispered, his voice deepening, taking on a more masculine, gruff tone.

Ryan wiggled his toes again and crossed his feet, brushing Tom’s forearm along the way “Oh, it’s happening, bro. You’re gonna be just like the rest of us. You’re gonna love being with your bros. Trust me, man, it’s what you’ve always wanted.”

Tom’s mind screamed in protest, but his body continued to betray him. The hair follicles on his chest started to burn as Tom saw in the reflection of the mirror that his faint dark brown hair was turning clearer, taking a golden hue, almost disappearing in his skin. He saw the same happening in his armpits as they grew thicker and denser there. The scent of his own sweat mixed with Ryan’s musk, creating an overwhelming cocktail of testosterone that filled the car.

His abs rippled beneath his torn shirt, each muscle growing more defined until his midsection was a solid, chiseled six-pack. His body was drenched in sweat, the salty tang of it filling the air, and to his horror, Tom realized he didn’t hate the smell. He liked it. He craved it.

His face contorted in pain as his jawline shifted, becoming squarer and more pronounced. His cheekbones sharpened, his nose slightly thickened, and his brow became more prominent. His once-neatly dark brown trimmed hair grew wilder, curlier, messier style that looked perfect for a frat bro.

But the worst was yet to come. Tom’s groin pulsed with heat, his penis swelling to an obscene size. His balls hung low, filled with a primal need, a hunger for something more. His underwear strained to contain the sheer mass of his manhood, and Tom could feel his arousal building, stronger, hotter, and more insistent than anything he had ever experienced.

“No… no…” Tom moaned, but it wasn’t just the size that scared him. It was the desire. The growing lust, not for women, but for men, his bros. The idea of being surrounded by them, feeling their bodies pressed against his, touching, tasting, servicing them, it sent waves of unwanted pleasure through him as he was trying to restraint those foreign pulsion. Tom turned his head back to throw a look of pleading to Ryan, but the only thing he saw between his locks of curly blonde hair was Ryan gripping his own groin through his jeans while licking his lips looking at him.

Inside his mind, Tom was screaming, fighting to hold onto his old self, but his body was changing too fast, too much. His cock twitched, a bead of precum forming at the tip, staining the inside of his underwear turned into a kaki speedo. His new, massive muscles tensed, and every part of him screamed for release.

Ryan watched him struggle, a grin of satisfaction on his face. “You’re almost there, bro. You feel it, don’t you? You need to let go. Just blow it in your speedo, man, and it’ll all be over. You’ll be one of us.”

Tom’s mind rebelled, but his body was beyond his control. The overwhelming musk, the power coursing through his muscles, the heat in his groin, it was too much. He could feel his balls tighten, his cock throb, and his heart race as the tension built inside him.

“Come on, bro, I gave you a chance to really enjoy this all. Way too long…” Ryan urged, his voice low and commanding. “Fuck it, you wanted this. CUM!”

With a shuddering gasp, Tom’s body obeyed. His cock spasmed, and with a grunt of pure, animalistic pleasure, he came hard, his seed spilling into his speedo in a hot, sticky mess. The sensation was overwhelming, waves of ecstasy crashing through his entire body. His muscles flexed, his heart pounded, and his new frat bro self-emerged in full force. As the orgasm was subsiding, Tom’s clothes torn clothes started to vanish into pure manly musk, evaporating straight from his body and pushing the musk in the car even further. Tom stood there, his new kaki speedo damp with his cum. The outline of his huge cock still visible in the dampness of the tissue. Tom trying to find his breath as Ryan was still boringly stroking his cock and riding the hangover of alcohol and musk.

Tom’s conversion was complete, his body now entirely foreign to him, yet every part of it felt strong, powerful, and, worst of all, desperately needy. His new muscular frame was drenched in sweat, his speedo sticky and soaked with his release. His broad chest heaved, the musky scent of his own sweat mingled with the fresh cum soaking his crotch, the stench filling the car.

Tom opened his eyes after a while when his brain could connect the information around him. He tried to move to take a look but to his surprise he couldn’t do anything. IT was like he was frozen on his car seat. As he started to panic, Tom heard Ryan’s voice from behind him as he felt hands on his muscled sweaty shoulders. “I told you you should have let it go and accept it. But no, you had to fight… I’m sorry bro, but if you had accepted the changes, your soul would have been assimilated. Now you’ll have to live your life from the passenger seat. Too bad for a driver to be a passenger of his own life.” Inside, Tom was screaming in pure, abject horror. He could still feel everything, the slick wetness in his shorts, the stench of his own musk, and the weight of his massive muscles. But it was like he had been shoved into a tiny corner of his own brain, trapped as a mere observer while his new frat bro body had taken full control. He could see, hear, and feel, but he was no longer in command. “See? You should have accepted way earlier Tom, or should I call you Carter!”

Ryan leaned forward, inspecting his handiwork, and laughed. “Oh yeah, bro. You’re one of us now. Look at you—fucking perfect. Just wait until the other guys get a load of you.”

Tom wanted to scream, to shout at Ryan, but his body refused to respond. Instead, his lips parted into a cocky grin, and his voice, deep and full of arrogance, spoke words that Tom didn’t want to say. “Hell yeah, man. I’m ready. Let’s fucking go.”

Inside, Tom’s soul wept. He tried to fight, to claw his way back to control, but the frat bro instincts that now filled his brain were stronger, overpowering his old self. He couldn’t stop the way his muscles flexed instinctively, couldn’t stop the pulse of desire that rushed through him at the thought of being with his bros, couldn’t stop the way his cock throbbed with excitement at the idea of being used by them.

Ryan clapped him on the back, his grin wide. “That’s the spirit, bro. Let’s head back to the house, just got a text from Cassidy and she cancelled our date. That’s okay though, looks like our brand-new slut just arrived. The guys are gonna fucking love you.”

Carter shifted in the seat, his large, muscular frame barely fitting in the compact space now. His legs stretched out, thick thighs brushing against the dash as he shifted, adjusting his still-hard cock in his shorts. His skin felt tight over his new muscles, the hair on his chest and legs sticking to his sweaty skin, adding to the overpowering scent that filled the car. His body, now perfect for the frat life, responded instinctively, craving the approval and attention of the bros waiting for him at the house.

After a while, they were both back at the frat house, every step sent a fresh wave of musk into the air, the smell clinging to his skin, marking him as one of them. Tom hated it, despised the way his new body seemed to revel in the scent, in the sheer masculinity of it all.

The door swung open, and the other Delta Sig brothers were already lounging on the couches, drinking and laughing. As soon as Carter walked in, all eyes were on him, and the room erupted into cheers.

“Damn, Ryan, you did a fucking good job on this one!” one of the bros called out, eyeing Carter with a mix of approval and lust.

Ryan grinned, clapping Carter on the shoulder. “Told you guys I’d bring us a new hole to fuck to replace the last one. He’s fucking perfect, right?”

Carter’s frat bro instincts kicked in, and he flexed his arms, showing off his massive biceps with a cocky grin. His body responded to their approval with an almost addictive high, a deep, primal desire to be wanted by them, to be used by them.

Inside, Tom was screaming, but his body was lost in the moment, his cock already twitching in anticipation as the bros crowded around him, patting him on the back, feeling his muscles, and welcoming him into their ranks.

Ryan leaned in close, his voice low and teasing. “You feel that, bro? You’re one of us now. Doesn’t it feel fucking amazing?”

Carter’s mouth opened, and his voice, deep, confident, and undeniably turned on answered, “Yeah, bro. Feels fucking incredible.”

Ryan smirked, satisfied. “Welcome to the brotherhood, man. Now, let’s get you upstairs and really show you what it means to be a Delta Sig.”

As the group led Tom toward the stairs, the weight of his new life fully settled in. Inside, his old self screamed and fought, desperate to break free. But his body, now a slave to the desires of the frat, couldn’t wait to submit to his bros, to be used by them in every way. ______________________________________________________________ Hey guys! Hope you'll enjoy this story based on this prompt from an anonymous: "An Uber driver picks up a drunk guy with smelly feet who taunts him with his scent and tfs him into a bro to go out drinking with." Hope you like it! As always feel free to message me in dms or ask if you want me to write prompts or just talk. Have a good day! :)

[onlyhereforthestories]

Worth It? Or Not? (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Hi guys! It's been too long. Please enjoy this long ramble that slightly resembles writing 😂. I have a few more things written and I am trying to finish Chica for you all. Happy weekend.

It was a new season, and you were so ready for what it was going to throw at you. The last season you participated in had been your best yet you think, although that was most likely due to the fact that it was your first with your girlfriend. You and Alexia had been dancing around your feeling for each other for a few years and in the off-season last year the older woman had finally asked you out. By the time the season just gone had started you were already official, and it had made last year that much more special. You got to share your achievements with the one you loved and that really was wonderful.

Now for a new season and possibly a new step for your relationship with Alexia, she had been hinting at moving in together for the last few weeks. Little off hand comments like “That would look nice in a master bedroom.” And “I wonder if we would have a feature wall if we had our own living space.” You thought it was about time you started hinting back. You needed to be sure it was something she actually wanted before you out right asked her if she was ready to move in together.

You were currently waiting for Aitana to pick you up, Alexia had to be in earlier than everyone else this morning for a meeting and so you had slept separately, at your own apartments last night. This was the first time in weeks that you could remember not sharing a bed with the older woman. She said she didn’t want to wake you as early as she needed to be up and after trying to argue with her for 10 minutes you had given up, she just wasn’t getting that you would happily wake up early if it meant spending the extra time with her.

“So why do I have to come get your whipped ass? Where’s the wifey?” You rolled your eyes at the woman as you climbed into the passenger seat of her car. Aitana had been one of the first people you had talked to about your crush on Alexia and now the slightly younger woman took every opportunity she could to tease you about your obvious love for the team captain.

“I’m telling her you called her that, but in answer to your poorly asked question, she had an early meeting and didn’t want to wake me up at the early time she had to be up.” You shrugged your shoulders in a gesture you knew was for your benefit not hers, you had been up half the night letting your anxiety get the best of you.

“It’s Alexia, you know her, she is probably just nervous for the new season and how the new signings will fit in.” You knew that Aitana was most likely right but you also couldn’t shake the creeping feeling that she was already getting bored of being with you. You knew you shouldn’t let these thoughts get the better of you but that was easier to say than actually do, it wasn’t that you doubted Alexia at all, it was more your growing anxiety over your own worth in your head. In fact you knew it was you and your head and that just made it even more frustrating, it was another thing that made you question yourself.

“Yeah, you are probably right, she has been feeling the captain pressure a lot over the last week or so. She has been watching tapes of the new girls and talking a lot with the staff after weights. Sometimes I wish she would just switch off from work and be a little more present with me, but she’s Alexia queen of Barca. She puts 110% into this club and that’s what I signed up for happily.”

After that the conversation switched to a lighter topic and by the time you pulled up at the training ground you were feeling a lot lighter and laughing with one of your best friends. Any thoughts of Alexia not wanting you any more were long gone and all you wanted to do now was get your cleats on. Football would always be a great escape for you, it was like your mind could relax whilst you had a ball at your feet.

After getting ready in the changing room, without the appearance of your love, you headed out with the rest of the girls to find Alexia in the middle of the field with another woman you didn’t recognise. Your attention was pulled from them when Pere spoke, “Okay ladies, we have a new signing starting with us today. Alexia has been getting to know her a little bit so it’s easier for her to settle in. Please be welcoming.” You all nodded your heads in agreement and followed him over to the two women.

“Hi it’s nice to meet you all, I’m Chloe.” You could tell the woman was nervous and so could Alexia as she moved everyone onto warm-ups rather quickly. Over the course of the session everyone introduced themselves to the new girl individually so that she felt as comfortable as possible.

You had just got out of the shower and was putting the last items in your bag when Alexia approached you for the first time today. “Hola, can I ask you for a favour por favor?” You could tell she was sort of in a hurry by the lack of affection she gave you. You would normally at least get a peck to the cheek, but she barely even got close enough to you for you to hear her properly.

“Si of course.” You would do anything for the woman in front of you and everyone knew it.

“I’m taking Chloe out to see the city so she knows her way around a bit better, but I didn’t get to walk Nala this morning. Can you run round mine and do it for me? I asked Alba but she is working.” There was a lot to pick out of that passage of one-sided conversation. First you were hurt that she had gone to Alba first when Nala was like your own dog too. Second, she must have forgotten your lunch plans with Claudia and Patri that had been made a while back and you knew was on her calendar as you put it there. Something you decided not to bring up, she was just trying to help the new girl settle in you understood that.

“Yes of course. Do you want me to make dinner tonight?” You thought at least you could have some time with her that evening being as you’ve barely interacted all day.

“I won’t be back for dinner, I told Chloe I would help her sort her apartment out after showing her the sights. I don’t know what time I’ll be back y/n so maybe we should sleep in our own apartments again tonight.” You really didn’t know what to say to this, so you just nodded. You got a lot of the women’s time, so you didn’t think it was fair for you to be upset over a couple days, especially not when she was just trying to help someone out.

“Okay, I’ll see you at training tomorrow then.” You turned round and walked out of training with a slight weight on your chest and your mind running with thoughts you wish you didn’t have.

After you walked Nala and dropped her back into Alexia’s apartment, an apartment that started to feel like your own until the last 24 hours. Part of you knew this was silly to think but you couldn’t help it, you are always an overthinker and this was something that you struggled with. You didn’t even take the time to make sure Nala was settled you just open the door let her in, checked her water bowl was full and left again. Being there just felt wrong today. Deciding that your mood was really not good enough to go out and have a lunch with your two friends you texted Patri to cancel, and after assuring her you were okay just a little extra tired today, she wished you a good evening and said she would pick you up for training if you needed the next morning.

An offer you ended up taking when your texts to Alexia the next morning went unanswered. You were tired and starting to get a little annoyed with the older woman, you were trying to reason as to why she wasn’t replying to your texts and even when she did it was so spaced out it felt like she didn’t care or want to talk to you. You were trying to change that thought process, but it was hard when that’s where your mind had gone.

“Hola, you don’t look so good. Should you be coming to training.” Patri’s concerned voice almost sent you into a wave of sobs, but you held it together, your thoughts were stupid so you know you couldn’t show you were sad. You didn’t want Patri to think you were an idiot for the way you were feeling about your current situation, if it was even a situation.

“I’m just tired Pats, I’ve not slept well the last few nights and I think its just caught up to me a bit today.” You sighed in relief when she didn’t push you any further just gave you a once over and then pulled away from the outside of your apartment complex.

You were hoping the journey to training would help your mood and thoughts, but it didn’t much. Patri tried her best to cheer you up and you really appreciated the younger woman’s efforts, but you were struggling. You made your way into the changing room behind your best friend and didn’t both to look up as you made your way to your cubby. You placed your stuff down and changed into your boots, leaving the changing room straight after as the first out.

You decided some air and keepy ups might help sort your head out before training. Pere and the staff were out setting up when you went to ask for a ball, they gladly gave you one and you headed to the far end of the field to have your space. The sun beating down on you felt good and a ball at your feet always helped.

Your peace was short lived as you heard the chatter of the rest of the girls and Pere calling you all in. You grabbed your ball and headed over, looking at the group for the first time. What you saw hurt your heart more than you would say to anyone, Alexia was stood near Pere like normal. That obviously wasn’t the upsetting part, the upsetting part was that Chloe was pretty much pressed against Ale. You tried not to look too long or think too much but you struggled. You really struggled.

Training started and your thoughts just kept going. You couldn’t concentrate, you couldn’t pass right, your touches were off and none of the shots you took even went close to the goal. By the end of the first half of training everyone could tell something wasn’t okay with you, so much so that Pere called you over in the drinks break.

“What’s up today? This is very unlike you. If your sick you should have just let us know I don’t want to see you get injured if you are pushing yourself too much and then end up being out for longer than you need to be. Health is important y/n.” The way he said it wasn’t scolding which you were thankful for, you were slightly worried that he would be annoyed with you for your performance.

“I’m sorry coach. I’m not feeling my best today, I thought I’d be okay to train but I think maybe I was wrong.” You wouldn’t normally miss training unless really necessary, but you were too far gone mentally and staying here wasn’t what you needed right now.

“That’s okay some days we just need the break and to rest. Go home and we will see you hopefully tomorrow. Please pop and see the medical staff on the way out to check in with them.” With that he patted your shoulder and went back to call the team back to training.

As you walked past the group Patri caught your eye and gave you the are you okay look. You waved her off with a half-smile and continued to the changing rooms. You decided that a shower at home would be the best for you and so just changed your shoes, grabbed your stuff and headed to the medical room.

They just did some basic checks on your temperature and blood pressure before sending you off with the promise to come in first thing tomorrow if you were planning on training just to have another check before you did.

You half expected Alexia to be waiting for you outside the medical room when you walked out but she wasn’t. You walked out of the grounds to remember that you got a lift, you were just about to walk home when your name was called. For a second your body warmed thinking it was who you really wanted it to be before your shoulders slump slightly. You knew that was Patri.

“I’ll drive you home come on.” You didn’t argue you just hopped in the passenger seat. You were quiet the whole way back to your place, the only words you said to the younger woman was thank you when you got out the car.

You took your shower turning the water to as hot as you could handle. Going for comfort after that you changed into your (Alexias) comfiest hoodie and a pair of tracksuits that you really weren’t sure whose they were. You settled yourself onto your sofa and turned on a random old show you didn’t need to concentrate on.

You have no idea when you fell asleep, but you must have at some point because you were blinking yourself awake in the now pitch blackness of your living space. The only light you had was coming from your phone on the table that you now realised was ringing and must have been the reason you were currently waking up.

You reached over to grab it off the table to see who it was, glancing at the screen you were faced with your favourite photo you had ever taken. Ale had this smile that reached her eyes as she stared at you through the camera, it was taken last month when you were on vacation before the season was due to start.

You were stuck in a sort of daze so you didn’t answer the call, after it rang off you were faced with 5 miss calls from the woman. You noticed the time, you had missed lunch and dinner. You almost missed bedtime if you were being truthful to yourself, so you got up off the sofa and turned the tv off. You grabbed your phone again and headed to your bathroom to clean your teeth and get into your pjs. Once in bed you called Alexia back, who picked up after a couple rings.

“Y/n where did you go? Why did you miss training?” Her words were rushed as soon as she answered, which you felt a little bad about as she had been trying to get hold of you for a while now.

You took a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts before answering Alexia’s question. You could hear the concern in her voice, which only made your heart ache more. It wasn’t anger or frustration—it was genuine worry. And yet, the events of the past couple of days had left you feeling vulnerable and disconnected.

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you started quietly, not wanting your voice to crack. “Pere told me to go home, and I guess I just needed some time to rest. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls before I fell asleep on the sofa.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. You could hear Alexia shifting slightly, probably trying to figure out the right words. She was good at taking a moment to make sure she said the correct thing, that she said everything she wanted and in a way that would be understood for what it was.

“I would’ve come with you if I knew,” she said softly. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Or at least text me when you got home?”

“I did try to talk to you,” you replied, a bit sharper than you intended. You quickly softened your tone before continuing. “I was going to tell you before I left the training grounds but when I went to go over, I saw you were in a conversation with Chloe and I didn’t want to interrupt. I know what making her feel welcome into the team means to you so I just left, Patri dropped me home.”

Alexia was silent again, and you hated that your mind immediately went back to the image of Chloe standing so close to her earlier. You knew it was unreasonable to feel threatened, but the distance you’d been feeling from Alexia over the last couple of days was making everything worse. You knew Alexia and you knew that if she was even thinking about someone else in the way she thought about you, she would end things. It was a conversation the both of you had had very early in the relationship, it was better to say and end things than cause more heartache with something like cheating.

“You’re right,” she finally said. “I’ve been caught up with the new signings, especially Chloe. I wanted to help her settle in, but I didn’t realize I was neglecting you in the process.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat as you listened to her. The fact that she acknowledged it made you feel a bit better, but it didn’t completely erase the weight that had been sitting on your chest. It still has happened.

“I get it, Ale. You’re the captain, and you’ve got responsibilities, but…” You trailed off, not sure how to express what you were feeling without coming across as needy or insecure.

“But what?” she asked gently, encouraging you to keep going.

“I just… I don’t know. It feels like we haven’t really been us these past few days. Like we’re slipping apart, and I don’t want that.”

Alexia sighed softly, and you could almost picture her rubbing the back of her neck the way she always did when she was thinking hard about something.

“I don’t want that either,” she said after a moment. “I’m sorry, really. I’ve been so focused on the new season and everything happening with the team that I haven’t been present with you. That’s not fair.”

Tears stung your eyes at her words. You hated that you had been feeling so anxious and unsure about where you stood with her. The logical part of your brain knew that Alexia loved you deeply, but sometimes, your emotions got the better of you.

“I just miss you,” you whispered, finally letting a bit of the hurt spill out.

“I miss you too,” she replied, her voice soft but firm. “I promise, when I get back, we’ll spend some real time together. Just the two of us.”

You wanted to believe her, to hold onto the comfort her words should have brought you, but as you lay there, phone pressed to your ear, something still felt off. The doubts that had been swirling in your mind all day didn’t vanish—they just simmered beneath the surface, waiting for another moment to creep back in. You tried to smile, to let her words sink in, but it felt hollow.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice weaker than you intended. There was a pause on the line, and for a second, you wondered if she could hear the uncertainty that was sitting heavy on your chest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Get some rest. I love you,” Alexia said, her tone soft but distant, and somehow it made you feel even worse.

“I love you too, Ale,” you replied automatically, though the words felt like they got caught in your throat. You wanted to believe them, wanted to believe her. But as you hung up the phone, the heavy silence in your room returned, and with it, the creeping feeling that maybe things weren’t as solid as you hoped.

You curled up under the covers, pulling them tighter around you, but instead of the calm you craved, a lingering unease settled deep in your chest. The conversation hadn’t been enough to ease your mind, and the distance between you two felt more real than ever. Alexia cared, you knew that, but it didn’t stop the doubts from pulling you under.

As much as you tried to push it aside, the little voice in your head that had been whispering insecurities all day grew louder. What if she’s getting tired of me? What if this distance between us is because she doesn’t want to be with me anymore? The more you thought about it, the more it felt like Alexia was slipping away, even though she’d just promised to spend more time with you. The doubts began to swirl again, faster now, and the pit in your stomach deepened.

Sure, Alexia had apologized, but what if it wasn’t just about her being busy with the new signings? What if she was using that as an excuse? You started picking apart every little detail from the past few days—how she barely interacted with you this morning, how she chose to spend time with Chloe instead of you, how easily she’d forgotten your plans for lunch with Patri and Claudia. Maybe she wasn’t as invested in the relationship anymore. Maybe she was realizing that being with you wasn’t what she wanted.

You buried your face in your pillow, fighting the creeping sense of rejection. No, this is just the anxiety talking. She loves you. She said she loves you, you reminded yourself, but it felt like a hollow reassurance. Even as you repeated it, the lingering doubt wouldn’t leave you. You wanted so badly to believe her words, to take them at face value, but the overthinking was louder than reason right now.

The phone in your hand vibrated again, pulling you out of your spiral for a moment. Alexia had sent you a text: I really don’t like how we left things. Can I come over? I’ll bring dinner. We can talk.

Your heart skipped at the message. On one hand, you wanted her here. You wanted her arms around you, her presence to quiet the storm in your mind. But on the other hand, you felt like having her here would only make your insecurities worse. What if she could see right through you? What if she could tell that you weren’t okay, that you doubted her? What if she was already tired of dealing with your anxieties, your overthinking?

Before you could stop yourself, you typed back: I think it’s better if I stay alone tonight. I might be getting sick, and I don’t want to give you anything. You’ve got enough on your plate with the new season and all.

You stared at the message, second-guessing every word. It wasn’t entirely a lie—you did feel off, emotionally and physically, but that wasn’t the real reason you didn’t want her to come over. You were scared. Scared that spending time with her would only confirm the worst of your fears. That she was growing tired of you, tired of your relationship.

After a few moments, your phone buzzed again with Alexia’s response: Are you sure? I can bring soup or tea, whatever you need. I don’t mind at all.

Her willingness to drop everything and come over only made you feel worse. How could you doubt someone who was so thoughtful, so caring? But the voice in your head persisted—what if she was just doing this out of obligation? What if she felt guilty? It wasn’t long before you convinced yourself that Alexia was only offering out of a sense of duty, not because she actually wanted to be with you tonight.

Yeah, I’m sure. You replied, forcing yourself to hit send before you could change your mind. I’ll be fine. Just need some rest.

You stared at your phone, waiting for her response, hoping she would fight harder to come over, hoping she would insist. But her next message came quickly, and it felt like a punch to the gut. Okay, rest up. Let me know if you need anything, cariño. I’ll see you tomorrow at training.

Simple. Kind. But it wasn’t the push you had been hoping for. She wasn’t coming over. Maybe she was relieved, you thought bitterly. Maybe she didn’t actually want to spend time with you after all. You hated that your mind kept going there, but the doubts kept clawing at you, relentless and cruel.

Curling up tighter in your bed, you told yourself that some space was good. Maybe tomorrow would be better, maybe by then, you’d feel less overwhelmed, and Alexia would feel closer again. But as you lay there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, the weight of your insecurities was heavier than ever. You didn’t want to lose her, but right now, it felt like that’s exactly what was happening, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

you need anything. I love you. Get some good sleep, okay?

You read the message over and over, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. Relief, because Alexia wasn’t pushing you to talk when you didn’t feel ready. Disappointment, because a part of you had hoped she would sense your need for more; more reassurance, more connection, more confirmation that everything between you two was still okay. But she didn’t press further, and that left you with an emptiness that was hard to shake. Part of you knew that was silly, she had texted after your call and that should have helped but it just left you with a half full feeling. Like you were only worth that small extra effort.

As you lay there, your mind kept spiralling. You wanted to believe that this was just a rough patch, a phase, something that would pass after the season got into full swing. But the fear that something had shifted between you and Alexia lingered. You tried to push it away, to focus on the fact that she had said she loved you, that she was willing to drop everything for you. But the overthinking kept creeping back, whispering that maybe this was the beginning of the end.

You closed your eyes, pulling the blankets tighter around you, willing yourself to sleep. But even as exhaustion tugged at your body, your mind wouldn’t let go of the nagging doubts. You kept replaying the last few days in your head, every moment where Alexia had seemed distant, every conversation that had felt stilted or rushed. You hated how insecure it made you feel, but you couldn’t help it.

Alexia sits on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone, fingers hovering over the screen. She wants to call you, wants to check in, but hesitates. There’s a lump in her throat, a weight in her chest that won’t shift. You’d asked her for space, asked her not to hover, and she’s been trying, really trying, to respect that. But it’s hard. It’s so damn hard. It feels wrong to stay away, especially when she knows you’re not feeling well.

She runs a hand through her hair, frustrated with herself. She’s been distant lately and she understands that she’s not been around as much as she should have. Training, media obligations, new signings, everything’s been pulling her in different directions, and now, when you need her the most, she’s afraid she’s failing you. Alexia’s not used to feeling this way, like she’s not enough. But here she is, second-guessing everything and wondering why she let it get to this point.

What if you don’t even want her around anymore?

The thought hits her harder than she expects, and she feels a pang of guilt. You deserve someone better, someone who can be there, be present, and she’s been anything but lately. And now, with you sick, the fear creeps in even more. She worries that her attempts to give you space that you asked for might just be making things worse, that you might feel abandoned, even if that’s the last thing she ever wanted.

She presses her palms against her knees, trying to calm the whirlwind in her mind. The idea that she might not be enough, that she might not be the perfect girlfriend you deserve, gnaws at her. She’s scared she’s messing this up, that every move she makes might be the wrong one.

What if she’s not what you need right now? What if she’s been too caught up in her own world, too wrapped up in everything else to see what’s really going on with you?

Her phone buzzes, and for a moment, she thinks about texting you. But what would she even say? She feels torn, pulled between wanting to rush to your side and the fear that doing so would push you away.

She exhales sharply, setting the phone down, her hands now trembling slightly. She loves you, that much is very clear to her. But loving you and being there for you the way you deserve; it feels like two different things right now. She’s scared of being inadequate, of not living up to what you need.

In her heart, she wants to be the perfect girlfriend for you, the one who knows how to navigate all this with ease. Wants to know what you need without you having to say, wants to show you that there isn’t anyone better for you than her. But she’s scared, scared that she’s already failed.

That night, Alexia drives to your place. The streets are quiet, dimly lit by the occasional streetlamp, and the familiar route feels strange tonight, like she’s seeing it through a different lens. Her heart races the closer she gets, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual.

When she finally pulls up outside, she kills the engine but doesn’t move. The silence in the car feels thick, almost oppressive, like it's pressing down on her chest. She knows she should get out, knock on your door, and just be there for you. It’s why she came, after all. But something keeps her glued to the driver’s seat, eyes fixed on the dashboard, mind spinning with uncertainty.

What if you don’t want her here?

She takes a deep breath and glances up at your window. The lights are off, maybe you’re already asleep, maybe you’ve had a long day. Her mind starts to drift even further. Maybe she’s too late. But even if you're still awake, there’s that nagging voice in her head that tells her she’s crossing a line, that you’d rather be alone. That she should have done this a few days ago not now, not when you asked her to stay away.

I shouldn’t have come.

She exhales, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her jacket. Every part of her wants to be close to you, to show up the way she should have sooner. She even reaches for the door handle, her heart pounding as she tells herself, Just get out, Ale. Just go inside and talk to her. Be there for her.

But her grip on the handle loosens, and she pulls her hand back.

What if showing up makes things worse? What if you’re still upset, still needing space, and all she does by being here is prove that she can’t respect that?

She closes her eyes for a moment, willing the doubts away, but they only get louder. She’s scared, scared that you’ll see right through her. Scared that, no matter how hard she tries, she’s already failed you.

With a frustrated sigh, she pushes the door open and steps out of the car. The night air hits her, cool and crisp, and she stands there, staring at your front door. Her feet move her a few steps closer, but then she stops, frozen halfway across the street. To any passerby she would look slightly crazy, standing in the middle of the street, car door open behind her and staring at a closed door. But alexia didn’t care, she couldn’t think about anything else other than you.

She could knock, could tell you everything that’s been going through her head, but what if it’s too much? What if it’s too soon?

Alexia takes a deep breath and steps back, retreating to the safety of her car. She sits there, hands resting on the wheel again, feeling like a coward. But the thought of doing the wrong thing, of making things harder for you, keeps her from getting back out the car.

Tomorrow, she thinks. Tomorrow I’ll speak to her.

It’s a promise she makes to herself, hoping that maybe, with a little more time, she’ll find the right words.

The next morning, you woke up feeling no better than the night before. If anything, the pit in your stomach had only grown. You glanced at your phone, half-expecting to see a message from Alexia, but there was nothing. No good morning text, no follow-up to check on you. That left a really bitter feeling inside of you, one that you hated feeling for two reasons. One, you knew in your heart she wasn’t trying to make you feel that way, and two because you felt that way.

As you dragged yourself out of bed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You tried to convince yourself that Alexia was just busy, that she was giving you space like you asked. But deep down, the doubt gnawed at you. What if the space you asked for was pushing her further away?

You knew you needed to talk to her, to clear the air, but the thought of confronting your feelings made you anxious. What if she confirmed your worst fears? What if she said she wasn’t sure about the relationship anymore? You weren’t sure you could handle that.

Still, as you got ready for training, you decided to talk to her today. No more avoiding the conversation. You needed to know what was happening, you needed to clear things up. Not only for your relationship but for your own mind. There was a small voice at the back of your head telling you that speaking to Alexia about why this has happened might be a good idea, but you ignored that for the moment. That would mean showing those deep insecurities. And you weren’t sure if you were ready for that yet.

With the decision made, you grabbed your things and headed out the door, hoping that today would bring some clarity and maybe, just maybe, the reassurance you desperately needed.

Stepping out of the building, you're caught off guard. Alexia is there, leaning against her car, arms folded, sunglasses perched on her nose. She straightens up the moment she spots you, waving casually as if this is the most normal thing in the world. Which a week ago it would have been.

"Hey," she says lightly, her tone casual, maybe a little too casual. Stop reading so much into it y/n.

"Hey," you respond, trying to hide your confusion. "Didn’t expect to see you here."

She shrugs, unlocking the car with a beep. "Thought I’d give you a lift to training. I know Patri picked you up and dropped you home yesterday. I also wanted to check on you properly. How’re you feeling?"

There’s a pause, you are unsure if she’s asking about how you're feeling physically or mentally. "I’m... fine. Maybe a bit tired." Short and sweet, that will do for now.

"Yeah, it’s been a long week," she comments, sliding into the driver’s seat. You follow, buckling in, and the car hums to life as she pulls out onto the road. For a moment, the silence sits between you two, neither of you quite sure how to fill it.

"Traffic’s light today," she notes, glancing briefly at you. "Should get there in no time."

You nod, grateful for the small talk. "Yeah, that’s good."

Another beat of quiet passes.

"Did you see the new kit design?" she asks, her tone light, as if she’s trying to keep the conversation safe.

"Yeah, I did. Looks pretty sharp, though I’m not sure about the neon stripes," you reply, relaxing into the seat a little.

She chuckles softly. "Not a fan?"

You crack a small smile. "Not really my thing. Maybe it’ll grow on me."

The conversation fades again, but this time it feels easier, more comfortable. She’s not pushing, not prying into anything deeper. It feels like both of you are skirting around something bigger, but for now, the surface level is just fine.

Before long, you arrive at the training centre. Alexia leads you inside, where the trainers are waiting. The check-up is routine, some stretches, a few prods here and there and soon, they clear you to train.

"You’re good to go," the head trainer tells you with a nod.

As you step out onto the pitch, Alexia lingers nearby, not hovering, but subtly making sure you’re all right. During the water breaks, she’s quick to hand you a bottle, reminding you to stay hydrated. It's nothing overt, just small gestures that don’t go unnoticed by you.

Training passes, and as you finish up, wiping the sweat from your face and stretching out your tired muscles, you see her approaching again. This time, there’s something different in her expression.

"You did well today," she says with a small, approving smile.

"Thanks," you reply, sensing the shift in the air, the conversation about to take a more serious turn.

She hesitates for a second, then takes a deep breath. "Look... do you want to come back to mine? We need to talk. I think we’re overdue for it."

Her words hang between you both, but the way she says it feels less like a confrontation and more like an invitation. There’s no pressure, no demand, just a simple request.

You meet her gaze, unsure of what this conversation will bring, but knowing it’s inevitable. Whatever is currently going on with you two needs to be addressed and soon. Neither of you enjoying your current situation and definitely not wanting it to continue on this way.

"Yeah," you say, surprising yourself with how quickly the word comes out. "Let’s go."

You hesitate to take the hand Alexia reaches out in front of you, but when she gives you that small smile and slight tilt of her head you can’t help but grab on. You are once again conflicted when she lets go once you are on your feet, but when she awkwardly scratches at her neck as she gestures for you to start walking you can’t help the affection for her that rises in your chest.

The drive to Alexia’s is quiet, not awkward, but there’s a tension that hangs in the air. The radio plays softly in the background, a low hum of noise filling the silence as neither of you speaks much. You glance at her now and then, noticing how her hands grip the wheel just a little too tight, how her jaw seems tense. She’s trying to seem calm, but you know her well enough to see the nerves beneath the surface.

When you arrive at her apartment, Alexia unlocks the door and once again gestures for you to go inside first. You step in, and the familiarity of her space washes over you, a space that’s been shared so many times, but tonight feels different. She lingers by the door for a moment, taking a breath before following you in.

You both sit down on the couch, a little distance between you. Alexia fidgets with her fingers, playing with her rings, clearly trying to gather her thoughts. Finally, she speaks, her voice softer than usual, almost unsure.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” she says, her eyes not quite meeting yours. “I wanted to, but... I didn’t know if you’d want me there.”

You sit quietly, listening, waiting for her to continue. You know it is only fair to let her finish without interrupting, your time to speak will come.

“I know I haven’t been... the best lately. I’ve been distant, and I can’t even explain why in a way that makes sense,” she admits, her voice wavering slightly. “And then when you got sick... I wanted to be there for you. I should have been there, but you asked for space, and I didn’t want to make things worse.” You could hear the sadness and longing in her voice as she spoke, it made your heart hurt a little more thinking about how this has negatively affected her as well as you.

She looks down, her fingers twisting together nervously. “But I just kept second-guessing everything. Like, if I showed up, I’d be doing the wrong thing. And maybe... maybe you don’t even want me around anymore.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy with uncertainty and vulnerability. She’s never said anything like this before, never doubted herself like this when it came to your relationship. When it came to you.

You feel the weight of her worry, and it’s clear that she’s been wrestling with this more than you realized. Had you not been the best girlfriend either? Had she been worrying about this for more than just the last few days? There’s a long pause before she speaks again.

“I’m scared I’m not the girlfriend you deserve,” she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like I’m failing you... like I haven’t been there when you needed me most.”

Her eyes finally meet yours, and they’re filled with doubt, something you’re not used to seeing in her. Alexia, who’s always so composed, so sure of herself, now looks like she’s bracing for something, maybe rejection, maybe confirmation that her fears are true.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. You know this talk has been coming, but hearing her say it, seeing her so vulnerable, hits you differently. There's a part of you that wants to just reach out and hold her, to tell her it’s all okay, but you know this conversation needs to happen. You know that the both of you need to communicate these feelings and work on how you can do it without it getting to this stage again, if there is going to be again.

“Alexia...” you start, choosing your words carefully, “I never said I didn’t want you around. I asked for space because I needed it, not because I wanted you out of my life.”

She nods slowly, but her expression remains uncertain. You continue, “I’ve been going through a lot, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you here. It’s just... sometimes I need to figure things out on my own. That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

Alexia exhales, her shoulders sagging a little in relief, but the tension is still there. “I just... I feel like I haven’t been enough lately. I’ve been so focused on everything else that I haven’t made time for us, for you, and then when you needed me most, I just... froze.”

You shift closer to her, your hand gently resting on hers. “I know you’re busy. I never expected you to be around all the time, Ale. I don’t need you to be. I just need you to be... present. To be you.”

Her eyes soften at your words, and she looks down at your hand that is soft on top of hers, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” she says again, her voice steadier now. “I’ll do better. I want to be better, for you. For us.”

You nod, understanding the weight of what she’s saying. It’s not about perfection, not about always getting it right. It’s about showing up, about trying, even when it’s hard, even when doubts creep in.

“I just need us to be open with each other,” you say. “If you’re feeling off or distant, tell me. If you’re unsure about something, we’ll figure it out together. But don’t shut me out, and don’t shut yourself down thinking you’re not enough. And I’ll do better too. I have had so many insecure thoughts over the last few days and I’m sorry for those. I’m sorry that you get affected by them and I’m sorry I didn’t communicate with you about them. That wasn’t fair of me.”

You take a second to think about what you want to say next.  Alexia’s eyes stay locked on yours, her expression softening even more as she listens. Her hand tightens just slightly around yours, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of what you’re both sharing. The tension between you eases further, but the conversation isn’t over yet.

You take a breath, choosing your next words carefully, wanting to make sure she understands where you're coming from.

“I’ve been in my head a lot,” you admit, your voice steady but full of emotion. “I thought that maybe you weren’t showing up because I wasn’t... worth it. That you were pulling away because I’ve been too much to handle. And instead of talking to you about how I was feeling, I just let it build up. I guess I was scared that saying it out loud would make it real.”

Alexia’s brow furrows as she shakes her head gently. “You’re never too much,” she says quietly, her thumb still brushing softly over your hand. “I never want you to feel that way. I hate that you’ve been carrying that, and I didn’t know. That I couldn’t help.”

You nod, grateful for her words but also aware of how important it is to keep the lines of communication open moving forward. “I know you care, I do. I just... I need to trust that more. And I need to talk to you when I’m struggling, not shut you out. I’m sorry for that.”

Alexia leans in closer, her voice filled with sincerity. “We’ll both do better. We’ll figure this out together. You’re not alone in this. I want to be there for you, and I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like I wasn’t.”

You feel a wave of relief wash over you, and for the first time in days, it feels like the distance that had crept between you is finally closing. There’s a warmth in the room now, a sense of mutual understanding and a willingness to do better, together.

“I don’t need us to be perfect,” you say softly. “I just need to know that we’re in this together. That we can lean on each other, even when things aren’t easy.”

Alexia nods, her eyes shining with emotion. “We are. I promise. I love you, and I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you lean forward, pressing your forehead against hers. The silence that falls between you now isn’t heavy or filled with uncertainty. It’s peaceful, comforting.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

For now, the words are enough. There’s more to work through, more conversations to be had, but you know that you’re both committed to making this work. And for the first time in a while, you both feel like you're on solid ground again.

Alexia pulls you closer, wrapping her arms around you, and you sink into the embrace. The weight of the past few days begins to lift, replaced by a quiet sense of hope for what comes next.

After the heaviness of the conversation finally lifts, you and Alexia share a soft smile, the tension replaced by a quiet, comforting peace. The air between you feels lighter, and as if sensing the shift, Alexia’s lips curve into a small grin.

“How about we get some takeout?” she suggests, her voice playful yet warm. “I don’t feel like cooking, and I think we both deserve a break tonight.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement. “That sounds perfect. I could definitely go for some comfort food.”

It doesn’t take long before you’ve both decided on your usual, something easy and satisfying. The soft glow of the kitchen light reflects off Alexia’s face as she places the order, her expression more relaxed than it’s been in days. You can’t help but feel a sense of relief, like things are finally settling back into place.

Not long after, the smell of freshly delivered food fills the room, and you both settle on the sofa, plates balanced on your laps, the comfort of being together in the small, familiar space wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

“Movie?” Alexia asks, already flicking through the streaming options.

“Nothing too heavy,” you say with a smile. “Something we can just zone out to.”

She nods in agreement, finally settling on a classic comedy that always makes you both laugh. As the opening credits roll, you finish your food and tuck yourself into her side, her arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

As the movie plays, the light from the screen flickers softly against the walls, casting a warm glow over the room. You’re snuggled close into Alexia’s side, her arm still draped around your shoulders, fingers lazily tracing small patterns on your arm. The comfort of it all makes you feel more at ease than you’ve felt in days.

At some point, the film becomes background noise. You’re more focused on the way Alexia’s thumb brushes your skin or the occasional glance you catch of her watching you instead of the movie. You shift slightly, turning your face up toward her, and her gaze softens as your eyes meet.

Alexia smiles, a tender warmth in her expression, and you can’t help but lean in. The first kiss is soft, almost shy, like you’re both still figuring out the rhythm after the tension of the last few days. Her lips linger against yours for a moment longer than usual, and when you pull back, you see the quiet joy in her eyes, a silent thank you for being open and honest with her, for being here.

Without a word, you lean in again, your lips meeting hers in a series of soft, gentle kisses. They’re unhurried, sweet, filled with a quiet kind of affection that says more than words could in this moment. Alexia’s hand comes up to cradle your cheek, her thumb grazing your jawline as she deepens the kiss slightly, but it’s still slow, still soft.

When you finally pull away, her forehead rests against yours, her breath mingling with yours as you both smile, the movie all but forgotten now.

“I missed this,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the quiet moment.

“Me too,” you whisper back, brushing a kiss on the corner of her lips, your hands finding their way into hers.

She presses another kiss to your lips, this one lingering, and you both relax into the warmth of each other, the world outside fading as the night slips by.

There’s no rush, just the two of you, lost in the soft comfort of being close, the rest of the night spent in quiet kisses and shared smiles, wrapped up in each other as the movie plays on in the background. There is no need for more words tonight. You both know you’re in this together, that the promise made earlier will be something you will both work at together. And for right now, that’s enough.

[alotofpockets]

The Tooney and Russo Show | Alessia Russo x Williamson!Reader, Leah Williamson x Sister!Reader & Ella Toone x Platonic!Reader

Where you take over hosting The Tooney & Russo show when Vick is sick.

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.2k

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“Tooney, you’ve made it!” Alessia stood up and hugged her best friend. You were meeting Ella for breakfast before heading to the studio to film their last podcast episode for the season. “How was the trip?” You asked after you gave her a hug as well.

Ella sat down with a sigh, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the tube is not my friend.” You shared a knowing look with your girlfriend before you both chuckled, Ella and tubes didn’t go together, and she would complain about them every single time. Alessia and Vick had offered to get a studio in Manchester and make the trip over, but Ella insisted that it was more practical if only one person would have to travel. Yet, she often brought her boyfriend with her, so the one person only rule rarely applied. Either way, it was always great when Ella was in town.

“Is Leah not here yet?” You shake your head, “You know my sister, always a busy schedule.” The two Lionesses nodded in agreement, “She said she’d join us when her meeting was done though.”

Just when your food was delivered to the table, Leah made her way through the door. “Sorry I’m late.” You all greet her with a hug and wave off her apologies. The four of you were having a great time chatting over breakfast, when both Alessia’s and Ella’s phones buzzed at the same time. It was a message from Vick, letting them know that she’s sick to the point where she has lost her voice, so she won’t be able to make it to the shoot.

While Alessia and Ella started discussing their options, you were thinking. “I can host it.” Three pairs of eyes met you in question. “Come on, it will be fun! I know all of you, and the fans know me as well.” It didn’t take much to convince them of your idea.

“Hello and welcome to this very special episode of The Tooney and Russo Show with me not Vick Hope.” Alessia and Ella cheered excitedly and Alessia announced “It’s the season finale!” 

“As you can hear and see, I am not Vick. Sadly Vick had to miss out because she’s sick, but I am here to step in. My name is Y/n Williamson, and yes the last name should tell you all you need to know. Speaking of Williamson’s, I am not the only one of them here today. My sister, Captain of the Lionesses, Leah Williamson is our guest for this episode.”

The four of you chat for a bit about the relationship with Leah on and off the pitch. It was an easy environment and it felt like it was just a chat between friends, which of course really it was. 

“Oh and before any of you start saying Tooney is the third wheel because Y/n is my girlfriend and Leah’s sister.” She looked between the two of you with a chuckle, “Let me tell you that those two are like the same person.”

“They really are.” Leah chimes in. “Sometimes when I see Y/n with Ella and Alessia, I think she might be dating Ella instead.” 

“In another life.” You joke, getting a laugh out of the Lionesses trio. “Yeah, we are pretty similar. We have the same sense of humour, and have a lot of the same opinions on things. When Less started dating her, I was afraid that maybe my bond with Less would be affected, but I think Y/n made us even closer.”

“Yeah, sometimes I even feel like the third wheel with them.” Alessia laughs. “But you love it.” Ella says in defence. “Yeah I do, I’m glad the two of you get along so well.”

“At this point, I think we annoy Leah and Alessia equally.” You say proudly, and Ella agrees with you. ”You two are a nightmare when you team up against us.” Leah says teasingly. “But we love you.” Alessia follows up quickly.

When everyone was done laughing you moved onto the next topic. You asked about them winning the Euros and how football changed in England after, and how Alessia’s move from United to Arsenal was through the perspective of her former and new club teammate.

“I actually had a question for you, Y/n.” Ella put out into the group. “What’s it like having the England captain, the woman that is the face of English football, as your sister?”

“That is an interesting question actually. I admire her for everything she has done and is doing, and I am so proud of her and to be her sister, but at home she’s just my sister. We still argue about who gets the last ham sandwich, and who took the last cookie from the jar.” You joke.”

“Oh yeah,” Alessia hooks on, “The love for ham sandwiches runs in the family, it’s not just Leah.”

“I’ve got another question!” Ella perks up. You chuckle, “If you wanted to host, you could’ve just said so.” She sends you a challenging look, before biting back. “Wouldn’t have to if you did your job right.” You chuckle, “Okay fine, you win this one. What’s your question?”

“Well, I know the story, but I’ve seen some comments from fans wanting to hear how Less and Y/n got together, with Leah being Less her captain and all.” You glance at Alessia, letting her speak for the both of you.

“Oh that is an interesting one. Many people think Leah wouldn’t have liked us getting together, but she actually told me to ask Y/n out.” Leah nodded, “Yeah, they kept looking at each other with heart eyes, and I couldn’t take their pining any longer. Every time I was trying to eat my ham sandwich in peace, they would just be all gross.”

You raised your shoulders, “Even I was shocked when Less told me that Leah approved. Now it makes sense though. Leah has always protected me and Jacob, and wants us to be happy. She knows Less and knew that she would treat me right.”

“Alright alright, we get it love birds, don’t ruin my appetite for lunch with your sappiness.” Leah jokes. “Speaking of lunch, I think we’re about ready to go have some. Thank you everyone who has stuck with the Tooney and Russo Show all season, personally I cannot wait for them to start on another season. As always, send in your questions and it could be featured in one of the next episodes!”

As you finished your sentence, the three girls waved to the camera and said bye. The cameras and microphones got turned off, and that concluded the first season of the podcast. “That was so fun!” Leah agreed, “Yeah, thank you so much for letting me be a part of this.”

After the four finished lunch, you went your separate ways again. You and Alessia made your way home, her hand in yours as you strolled the streets. “You were a natural, darling.” You smiled, “Yeah? It was a lot of fun, thank you for allowing me to join you.”

“Mhm! Vick might fear for her job when she sees the episode.” Your girlfriend jokes with a little nudge to your shoulder. “Hmm, as much as I loved hosting, Vick is a much better host. Plus that way I can just sit behind the scenes and look at you with heart eyes all episode.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[lovlidollie]

these pics are just the epitome of frat!rafe. he’s constantly manspreading whenever he’s seated, douchey cap either pulled low on his head or flipped backwards. you can always find him wearing a white wifebeater or a tom ford polo, rollie proudly displayed on his wrist. he knows he’s hot and he knows how to use it to his advantage ! he’s such a slut !!! literally ran through lmao there’s not one girl he hasn’t messed with.

he’s got one of three hairstyles; a buzz, an undercut with greasy bangs, or a mullet. and you best believe he pulls all three of them off. frat!rafe is one of those jerks that shows up at sorority bikini carwash fundraisers so he can wolf-whistle at them and wink as he signals them to call him.

vocab consists of diff variations of “bro,” “dude,” “my guy,” “word,” “yo,” and he most definitely overuses the word “like.” he’s the type of guy to call professors by their first name, disrupt the class, and then beg for better grades in the middle of said disrupted class.

prolific snapchat user. snapscore is atrocious and he has streaks going with at least 7 girls at any given time. sends out a ‘u up?’ text at least twice a week. sometimes he’ll leave a girl on delivered for hours - sometimes days - just because he can. when he finally replies it’s usually a blurry snap of his face or a shameless thirst trap with a “mb was busy”.

when a girl finally realises that he’s playing her, he just laughs it off. if they’re upset he says, “i was just messing around,” or “you knew what you were getting into.” he doesn’t take responsibility for any emotional damage because in his head, he never promised anyone anything.

his ig captions .. are something. obviously there’s the infamous ‘grind never stops,’ and a ‘#blessed’. posts gym mirror selfies where he’s flexing his abs, pecs or biceps in a way that seems casual, but in reality he’s spent 20 minutes trying to find the perfect angle and lighting. captions them with things like ‘gains,’ or ‘rest days are for pussies’.

rides around in his obnoxiously loud truck, revving constantly and disturbing everyone in the area. he’s always blasting rap music at full volume, and of course he’s modified the vehicle. the truck’s lifted, with big off-road wheels, a custom exhaust, and a tint that borders on illegal. frat!rafe takes pride in parking it across 2 spots, and he’s always talking about its specs; “blah blah this much horsepower blah blah v8 engine blah blah”. it’s a sore sight at all the parties with the bed of the truck more often than not being used to perform keg stands.

[skywalkerslvt]

Pitching Tents And Crossing Lines- Ellie Williams x AFAB!Reader

❥Pairing: Camp counsellor!Ellie Williams x AFAB!Camp counsellor!Reader

❥a/n: Holy shit guys it's been over a month since i last posted a fic 😭 This is for everyone who wanted a part 2 to my camp counsellor!ellie fic!!! This could also be read as a oneshot but for those of you who want to read part 1 I'll link it here. hope u guys enjoy!!

❥CW: 18+ smut, fingering, semi-public sex sorta, teasing, dirty talk, secret sex, praise kink sorta, a tiny bit of marking, tent sex, pet names (ellie calls reader baby), 1k words

❥Summary: Ellie fingers you in a tent while another camp counsellor is sleeping in the same tent

You were going to kill Ellie. You swore to yourself the next day you were going to kill her. Kill her for being such a tease, kill her for looking so perfect, kill her for turning you on and sticking her hand between your legs while you shared a tent with your currently sleeping colleague.

But that would mean getting through the night first, which was a challenge in itself. Ellie’s body was pressed against your back, her fingers dangerously close to where you needed her most, but maddeningly still. Her breath was steady, like this was nothing, just another night under the stars, while your heart pounded in your chest, every fibre of your being on edge.

“Ellie,” you hissed quietly, voice strained as you tried not to wake the sleeping counsellor a few feet away. “What the hell are you doing?”

She hummed softly in your ear, her voice low and teasing. “What do you think I'm doing?”

You bit your lip, your body involuntarily responding to her proximity, the warmth of her fingers brushing against your waistband. You wanted to shove her hand away, to remind her where you were, but part of you—a very reckless part-didn't want her to stop.

You inhaled sharply as she began kissing and sucking marks into your neck, her hand inching down agonizingly slow. “Tell me to stop and I'll stop.”

You swallowed hard, your mind racing as her words hung in the air. You knew you should push her away, that this was wildly inappropriate-your colleague was right there, for fuck's sake. But Ellie's lips were warm against your skin, her hand teasing you just enough to make your body crave more.

You didn't tell her to stop.

Instead, you let out a shaky breath, your silence giving her all the permission she needed. Ellie smirked against your neck, her teeth grazing your skin before she whispered, "That's what I thought."

Her fingers slipped lower, finally slipping under the waistband of your shorts, brushing over your underwear, and you stifled a moan. You pressed your thighs together, torn between wanting more and the nagging worry that you could be caught any second.

Ellie seemed to revel in your struggle, her hand moving slowly, deliberately torturing you with each light touch.

"You like this, don't you?" she murmured. "You like that anyone could wake up and see how fucking needy you are."

Her words sent a wave of heat through you, your body reacting to her every word. You pressed your hips back against her, grinding slightly, desperate for more friction.

Ellie chuckled softly, her breath warm against your ear. "That's it," she said, her fingers slipping past the fabric of your underwear, finally making contact with your aching core. "Let me take care of you."

And then, she did.

Her fingers found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that made your breath hitch in your throat. You bit your lip hard, trying to keep quiet, the pressure of her hand driving you wild while the reality of your surroundings kept you on edge. Every time you exhaled, it felt like you were walking a tightrope between ecstasy and fear, the risk of waking your colleague sending an illicit thrill through your body.

Ellie's mouth was still on your neck, sucking gently, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine. She knew exactly what she was doing, how close you were to breaking, how much you needed this-needed her. And she was enjoying every second of it.

"You're so quiet, baby," she whispered, her voice low and teasing. "What's wrong? Afraid they'll hear how bad you want me?"

You wanted to respond, to tell her to shut up or slow down, but all that came out was a strangled gasp as her fingers dipped lower, sliding easily through your wetness. Ellie's grip tightened on your hip as she pressed against you, her teeth grazing your earlobe.

"Fuck, you're soaked," she murmured, the amusement in her voice impossible to ignore. "You really can't help yourself, can you?"

You whimpered, unable to stop yourself from grinding back against her fingers, desperate for more. It was maddening how good it felt-her fingers, her mouth, her breath, all working to unravel you bit by bit.

Ellie moved faster now, her fingers expertly sliding inside you, curling in just the right way to make your legs tremble. You had to clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out, every nerve ending lit up like a live wire.

"That's it," Ellie breathed, her voice a low growl in your ear. "Come for me, baby. Show everyone how good I make you feel."

The combination of her fingers inside you and her filthy words was too much.

Your body tensed, the wave of pleasure crashing over you so suddenly it almost knocked the breath out of you. You bit down hard on your lip, barely managing to stifle the moan that threatened to escape as you came, your body shaking against her.

Ellie didn't stop until your legs were trembling and you had to push her hand away, your body too sensitive to handle any more. She pulled her hand out of your shorts, her lips brushing your neck one last time before she whispered, "Good girl."

You were panting, trying to catch your breath, the weight of what had just happened slowly sinking in. Your colleague was still fast asleep, oblivious, but the tension in the air between you and Ellie was thick.

You turned to look at her, and Ellie gave you a lazy smirk, her eyes dark with satisfaction. "Better get some sleep," she whispered, lying back against her sleeping bag like nothing had happened. "We've got a long day tomorrow."

You glared at her, your body still buzzing with the aftermath of your orgasm. "I'm going to kill you," you muttered, though you both knew you didn't mean it.

Ellie just chuckled, throwing an arm over her eyes. "Get in line, babe."

[jetii]

A Little Fun

Pairing: Echo x fem!Reader / Echo x Medic!Reader

Words: 16,139

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, smut, pretty much pwp let's be honest, but there is some squad family bonding/good-natured ribbing, reader is a known flirt, reader has a nickname, insecure Echo to confident Echo, return of the king (pleasure dom Echo), he talks you through it, Echo's scomp is a paid actor, brat taming?, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, vibrator play, squirting, praise kink, overstimulation, aftercare

Summary: There's something between you and Echo, but despite your best efforts, he's yet to make a move. A night out at 79s changes everything.

A/N: the most self-indulgent thing i’ve ever written. 🙈 do not perceive me

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

The music is a wall of sound, a thudding rhythm so loud it's practically a physical force. There's a strobing light show that seems to be designed to make people sick to their stomachs, and the dance floor is so crowded with writhing bodies you can't tell where one person ends and another begins. You're entranced by it, drawn into the pulsing beat. It's like a heartbeat, and you swear it's calling to you, drawing you in.

It's been ages since you were out at a club like this. You never realized how much you missed it. You've spent months fighting battles on countless planets, patching up the squad after every fight, and then going back out and doing it all over again. The only thing that really makes the exhaustion worth it is the promise of something like this—the thrill of a good time, of letting loose and just enjoying yourself.

The song ends and another one takes its place. The music changes, but the crowd doesn't. Everyone on the floor keeps dancing, and you keep right on with them.

You don't know how long you're out there, but after a while you're starting to get worn down. You slip away from a pair of hands around your waist, leaving a trail of apologies in your wake, and head off the floor. There's a booth in the corner of the first floor that the squad has commandeered, a rare commodity at 79s, and you stumble towards it.

You've had enough drinks that you're pleasantly buzzed, and you've lost count of the number of people you've danced with. It's made your body feel alive and hot, the music's thudding beat thrumming through your skin. You haven't had this much fun in months, and for the first time in a long time, you feel free.

"Having fun?" Hunter calls out as you approach. He's sitting on one side of the round booth, next to Crosshair, who has an arm slung casually over the back. You left Wrecker out on the dance floor with a group of Twi'lek women who seem to find his bulk a source of fascination, and Tech is seated on Hunter's other side next to Echo, nursing a drink and watching the room with a passive gaze.

"Of course," you say with a laugh. "You're not?"

"Eh." Crosshair scoffs, not bothering to look over at you. His eyes are trained on the dancers out on the floor. "Not really."

"What about you, Tech?" you ask, leaning against the table and taking a sip of your drink.

"I find the entire affair rather fascinating," he says as he gestures vaguely at the crowd. "All the various forms of sentient expression are...interesting, to say the least."

"And what do you think of my form of expression, Tech?" you ask playfully, putting your hand over your heart and giving him a flirty smile. You take a seat at the end of the booth and lean closer.

Tech, ever immune to your antics, doesn't miss a beat.

"You appear to be expending a lot of energy on a relatively simple activity. However, the results do seem to be pleasing to you."

"What he's trying to say is, you look like you're having a good time," Echo supplies. He has his chin propped on his hand, but he's smiling at you, clearly amused. You meet his gaze and grin back.

"I am having a good time," you confirm. "How about you?"

"It's not exactly my scene," he says, and he gives a shrug. "But I can see why you'd enjoy it."

"If you change your mind and want to dance, just let me know," you tell him. "You know, since I'm already expending all this energy."

"Maybe later," he says.

His smile softens, and you're a little surprised to see it. The last few months have been hard on Echo, and you can count on one hand the number of times you've seen him smile like that. He's been working through a lot of guilt and self-loathing, and seeing him smile, even if it's small, is a nice change. It's good to see him loosening up a bit.

"I'll hold you to that," you tell him, and Echo grins and leans back.

"Are you sure you don't want to come out on the dance floor, Tech?" you ask, glancing over at him.

Tech shakes his head. "I prefer not to dance."

"What about you two? Not planning on getting out there?"

"I would sooner stick my hand in a rocket booster than step foot on that dance floor," Crosshair says without looking away from the crowd.

Hunter nods, and he gestures with his bottle. "That goes for me, too."

"Bunch of party poopers," you mutter and take a drink. "You should be ashamed of yourselves."

“There‘s no shortage of people willing to dance with you," Crosshair says, still staring at the crowd, and you can hear the teasing lilt in his voice. "No need to bother with us."

"We wouldn't want to deprive the galaxy of your...talents," Tech says.

"Very funny." You take a long drink and let the conversation drop.

"So," Hunter starts after a long silence. His eyes flicker to Echo and back to you, and he raises a brow. "How many people did you have to beat off with a stick on the dance floor?"

"Not too many," you say. "Only a few."

"Only a few, huh?" Crosshair asks. He sounds skeptical.

"Cross, don't act like you weren't counting every guy I danced with," you retort, and when he doesn't immediately respond, you grin and lean forward, bracing your elbows on the table. "See? Knew it."

"Don't flatter yourself," he says. "I was bored. Had nothing better to do."

"Yeah, yeah," you say, rolling your eyes. "Whatever you say. Don’t worry, none of them are worth mentioning."

“What about that guy who was talking to you earlier?" Echo asks, and he nods over to a spot near the bar. "I saw him buy you a drink. Didn't look like nothing."

"Who, that Mirialan?" You wave a dismissive hand. "Nah, he was cute, but not really my type.”

Echo gives a low hum of acknowledgement, his eyes never leaving yours, and you feel a strange thrill at the attention. You've always loved the way he looks at you. There's something about his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat, something warm and knowing and inviting. You’ve caught him looking at you like this plenty of times before, but tonight feels different. It feels almost daring. You sit up straighter and turn toward him.

"And what is your type?" he asks. There's an edge of seriousness to his question, and you consider him for a moment, watching him watch you.

"I like someone who can keep up with me," you say finally, and then, with a playful smile, add, "You know, someone with stamina."

Echo laughs a quiet, low chuckle, and your chest tightens. His laugh is a rare and beautiful thing, and you feel a thrill when you hear it.

"Stamina," he repeats, his voice soft and warm. There's a dazed look in his eye, and he blinks it away and meets your gaze again. “Right.”

The conversation is interrupted when Wrecker comes back to the table, panting and laughing, clearly out of breath. There's a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his cheeks are flushed, but he looks thrilled. He drops into the booth next to you, and the motion shoves you closer to Echo. You feel his leg brush yours under the table, and the sudden touch sends a warm spark shooting up your spine.

"This is great!" he shouts over the music. "Why don't we go out more?"

"Because our lives are a shitshow," Crosshair deadpans, finally turning to look at the rest of the squad.

Wrecker lets out a hearty laugh, and reaches across the table to give Crosshair a good-natured smack on the shoulder. "Ah, don't be so gloomy!"

"I'm not being gloomy, I'm being realistic," Crosshair replies with a scowl, but he softens a bit when Wrecker pulls back and settles into the booth, his arm slung over the back behind you.

"Oh, don't listen to him," Wrecker says. He's turned towards you now, and his arm is pressing against the back of your shoulders. "We should go out more often. You're a great dancer, y'know that?"

"You're not so bad yourself,” you say with a grin. “You're pretty light on your feet for someone so big."

Wrecker lets out a loud, barking laugh, pulling his arm out from behind you to slap his knee. His laugh is infectious, and you can't help but laugh along.

"You hear that, Cross?" he says. "I'm light on my feet."

"You're a regular acrobat," Crosshair drawls, his tone flat, but the hint of a smile plays at his lips.

"See, you're in a good mood!" Wrecker says, his smile growing. He takes a long pull from his drink, and then sets the glass down on the table, turning back to you. “Let’s go back out there! You and me, we'll show these losers how it's done."

"I need a break," you say, holding up a hand to stop him. "Sorry, Wrecker. Maybe later."

"Aw, alright," he says. He's still grinning, and he claps you on the shoulder with a bit more force than necessary. Your body rocks to the side, and you let out a breathless laugh as Echo puts a steadying hand on your arm.

"Easy there," Echo warns. His fingers linger on your forearm, and you can't help the thrill that rushes through you. You meet his gaze, and the corners of his mouth twitch.

"Thanks,” you say, and offer him a small smile.

Echo doesn't say anything. He just smiles back and pulls away, lifting his drink to his lips.

The conversation moves on, but you're barely paying attention to anything other than the feeling of Echo's leg against yours, the heat of his body, the lingering feeling of his hand on your arm. The touch was casual, friendly, but there's a part of you that wants to reach out and take his hand. It's been a while since you've gone dancing, and it's been longer since you've had any kind of physical intimacy, and a small, desperate part of you wants that contact. Especially if it’s Echo.

You steal a glance at him and find him looking back at you. His gaze is focused, a bit calculating, like he's trying to puzzle you out, and there’s a faint flush high on his cheeks. You raise an eyebrow at him, and his lips curl into a small smile. The two of you share a long look, and you wonder if he's thinking the same thing as you are.

"I'm gonna head back out," Wrecker says, and the words snap you out of your trance. He's standing next to the booth now, his drink empty, his hands splayed out on the table. "You guys should come out there with me. Stitches, c’mon!”

"I told you, I need a break," you say, a teasing smile playing at your lips. "Why don't you take Hunter? He was just saying how much he wanted to dance.”

"No," Hunter says immediately, shooting you a warning look. "Absolutely not."

"Yes!" Wrecker exclaims. 

The small smirk on Crosshair’s face spreads into a full on grin as he stands from the booth, pulling a grumbling Hunter up with him. He pushes him into Wrecker’s awaiting arms, and Wrecker gives a loud cheer. “Let’s go, Sarge!”

"You're a traitor," Hunter hisses, shooting you a dirty look over his shoulder as Wrecker drags him away. You give him a cheeky little wave, and he narrows his eyes.

"Have fun!" you call after him. You can hear Hunter let out a loud groan over the sound of the music, and you laugh as the pair disappears into the crowd.

Crosshair snickers and slips back into the booth, stretching out across the seat and resting his arm across the back. "Well, this’ll be entertaining."

"He'll be fine," Tech says, taking a sip of his drink before returning to his datapad. The four of you laugh a moment, and then fall into a companionable silence.

With the other two distracted, you slide closer to Echo, letting your leg press against his. You don't know if he does it on purpose or not, but he shifts and his leg presses harder against yours, a solid weight against you.

You let your eyes wander to the dance floor, where Hunter and Wrecker are dancing amongst the crowd. Hunter seems to have loosened up a tad, and his movements are more fluid, less rigid. But when he turns to look over at you, you can see the murder in his eyes. You can't help but laugh and give him another wave.

"You're cruel," Echo says, leaning in so his voice will carry over the noise, his breath warm on your cheek.

"No, I’m a genius," you reply easily.  "And an opportunist."

You turn your head back towards him, and the two of you are close—much closer than you expected. His face is only inches from yours, and he's so close that you can see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, the stubble on his jaw, the tiny scar on his forehead.

He's looking at you the way he did earlier, and a wave of warmth runs through your body, pooling low in your belly.

"A dangerous combination,” he says. He looks down, and his lips curl into a smile.

You laugh, and his eyes dart up to meet yours. "Is that a good thing?"

Echo pauses, considering. "I guess we'll find out."

There's a tension building between the two of you, and for a moment, neither of you speak. He's studying you with that intense, focused gaze again, and your body is thrumming. You've felt this feeling before, whenever Echo looks at you like that.

He's attractive—that was an undeniable fact. And he's funny, and smart, and caring, and he's a really, really good friend. But it's the moments like this, the times when his focus is all on you, that make you wish for something more.

You don't know what exactly that something more is, but right now, you can't help but imagine his lips pressed against yours, the feeling of his fingers running through your hair, the heat of his body pressed up against yours. It's been so long since you've had any sort of contact like that, and right now, it's all you can think about.

"So," Echo says, finally breaking the silence. His voice is a low rumble. "Stamina, huh?"

You hum, nodding. "It's a requirement."

"And what other requirements are there?"

"Depends," you say with a little shrug. You find yourself leaning in a fraction, drawn to him, and he mimics the motion. You’re not sure if he even realizes he’s doing it, but the sight of him moving towards you sends a hot pulse of anticipation through you.

"On?" he asks. There's a teasing lilt in his voice, a gentle playfulness, and you can't help but smile. His eyes drop to your mouth and then flick back up to meet yours.

"Who's asking."

You watch a range of emotions flicker across his face, and then Echo leans back, the tension in the air dissipating. He takes a sip of his drink and gives you a smile. "Good to know."

He turns back to the group, and you feel the loss of his gaze like a physical thing. The conversation shifts, and Echo starts talking to Tech, and the two of them get caught up in whatever it is they're discussing.

You can't focus on the conversation. Your eyes are fixed on Echo's face, watching him. It's like something has shifted between the two of you, and you're not entirely sure what that means. It's hard to read him sometimes—he's not exactly forthcoming with his emotions, but you had thought there was a mutual attraction, an understanding.

But then, you can be wrong about these things. it wouldn’t be the first time, and now that the moment has passed, it feels like it never even happened. You move to a sip of your own drink to try to calm your racing heart before you realize it’s empty.

"I'm gonna grab a refill," you say, sliding out of the booth and turning back toward the table. You ignore Crosshair’s smirk, and ask, "Anybody want anything?"

Crosshair and Tech both shake their heads, and Echo looks up at you and smiles.

"I'll come with," he says and slides out of the booth to follow you.

You can feel the weight of Crosshair's eyes on the back of your neck as the two of you walk off. You have a feeling that the conversation will pick back up the moment you're out of earshot, and you have a strong suspicion that you know exactly what it's going to be about.

When the two of you get to the bar, Echo flags down the bartender. The two of you place your orders and wait for the droid to prepare them, and you lean against the bar, your shoulder pressed against Echo's. He glances over at you, and you give him a smile.

"You doing okay?" you ask, tilting your head towards him.

"Yeah, why?"

"I just wanted to check in," you say. You shift a bit, leaning in closer. "We've all been under a lot of stress lately. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Echo considers your words, his brow furrowed in concentration as he looks back at you. Eventually, he seems to come to a decision, and his expression clears.

"I am," he says. "And I appreciate you checking in, but I'm fine. Really."

You nod. That's been Echo's refrain ever since he joined the Bad Batch. The squad has helped him adjust, and the new prosthetics have helped too, but you can tell it's still not easy for him. You've tried your best to support him, and the others have done the same, but there's only so much any of you can do.

"I'm glad," you say. You pause, and then, after a moment's consideration, add, "If you ever need to talk, or anything, you know where to find me."

Echo smiles and nods. “I know.”

The droid sets down your drinks, and you each grab one. For a moment, you debate whether to take them back to the table, but you can hear the sounds of shouting and laughter, and a quick glance at the crowd reveals Hunter and Wrecker stumbling back to the booth.

"Wanna stay here?" you ask, lifting your glass.

Echo looks over at the group, and then back to you. He's got that smile on his face again, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

"Sure," he says, and he hops onto one of the stools. You follow suit, sitting on the one next to him.

You sit in companionable silence for a while. You can hear the sounds of the music, of the dancers and the laughter, but the sounds seem distant, and for a moment, you and Echo are alone.

"I'm happy to see you having fun," he says, breaking the silence.

"Why's that?"

"We've been through a lot the past few months,” he answers. His voice is quiet, but the look in his eyes is steady and focused. "You deserve to have a good time."

"So do you, Echo.”

He doesn't reply, but there's a thoughtful expression on his face as he looks back out at the dance floor. His eyes are distant, and you follow his gaze with a curious tilt of your head.

"You want to get out there and dance, don't you?" you guess, a teasing grin spreading across your face.

Echo gives you a sidelong glance, and his mouth twitches in a little smile. "I told you, it's not really my scene. Not anymore, at least."

"So we'll find another way for you to have fun,” you reply as you turn on the stool to face him. You take a sip of your drink and give him a pointed look. It’s a bit forward, even for you, but the alcohol has you feeling bold, and you get the sense that Echo isn’t as put off by your flirting as he pretends to be.

The two of you lock eyes, and the moment stretches on. His eyes flit over your face, searching, and you meet his gaze, refusing to blink.

Echo rolls his eyes before ducking his head, shaking it slightly. You can see a faint blush on his cheeks, and he lets out a quiet laugh.

"Yeah, okay,” he says sarcastically, and you frown.

"You think I'm not serious?"

"No," he replies, raising his eyebrows at you. "I know you're not."

You tilt your head, studying him. He looks a mixture of amused and annoyed, but beneath that, there's something else. There's a softness to his expression, an almost pleading edge to his voice. It's a strange combination, and you're not sure how to interpret it.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because it’s you," he says, as if that explains everything.

"So?"

"So, you're..." he trails off, gesturing vaguely in your direction. You raise your eyebrows at him, and he lets out a small huff. "Look, we both know you're not really interested."

You feel a surge of annoyance. "Well, maybe I am. Why don't you give me a chance to prove it?"

Echo stares at you, his mouth set in a thin line, and for a moment, the two of you are locked in a silent stand-off. Finally, he breaks the stalemate, letting out a quiet sigh.

"What?" you ask

"Nothing," he says, shaking his head. "You're drunk."

"I am not," you protest. Your eyebrows furrow in indignation. "I've had three drinks, max. And they were light. I'm just feeling good."

"Okay, then," he says, a skeptical look on his face. "Maybe you're not drunk. But you're not exactly thinking straight, either."

You scoff. "Is anyone ever thinking straight in a place like this?"

"Very funny."

"I'm just saying, I'm serious," you insist. "I'm more than happy to have fun with you, if that's what you want."

Echo opens his mouth, and then shuts it, his lips pressed in a thin line. You've never seen him so unbalanced, and the sight fills you with a perverse sense of satisfaction.

"You're not thinking this through," he says. "You have no idea what you're offering."

"So explain it to me," you say. You set your drink down and slide closer to him, your knees brushing against the side of his leg. His eyes dart to the movement, and then back up to meet yours. There's a spark of heat in his gaze, and you can't help but smile.

"You're really—" He breaks off, his gaze dropping to your mouth, and his tongue darts out, swiping over his lips. His gaze lingers for a long moment, and you can feel the tension in the air thicken, like static electricity building just before a lightning strike.

"I'm really what?"

He lets out a frustrated sound. "You’re not making this easy.”

"Oh, please," you say, rolling your eyes. "If it was easy, it wouldn't be any fun."

"You're something else," he says, and there's an edge of frustration to his voice. He runs a hand over his face, and then looks back at you. “I’m not talking about this here.”

"Fine," you say, a little miffed. "Then come back to the ship with me, and we'll finish this conversation."

Echo lets out a long breath, his shoulders sagging. He looks torn, and you can't quite figure out what's going on in his head.

"Echo, if you're not into it, that's fine," you tell him, your voice softer. "I'm not trying to pressure you. I just wanted you to know that I'm interested."

He nods slowly, his eyes still trained on yours. There's a wariness there, and for a moment, you’re certain he's going to reject you.

Instead, he slides off the stool and takes a step forward. You turn, your legs parting of their own accord, and he moves between them. He's so close that your knees are brushing his hips, and the contact sends a spark of anticipation through you.

"Let me make this clear," he says, leaning in, and his voice is a low, raspy whisper in your ear. "You don't know what you're getting into."

"Try me."

"You really wanna go down this road?"

"Absolutely.”

There's no hesitation. You've wanted this, wanted him, for longer than you're willing to admit, and now that it's within reach, there's no way in hell you're backing down.

Echo pulls back, but he doesn’t go far. His eyes are dark, the light gold overtaken by his pupils, and a hot wave of arousal shoots through you.

"Please," you add for good measure, the word a breathless whisper.

That seems to be the last straw. Echo lets out a heavy breath, and his hand comes up, cupping the back of your head. His fingers are digging into the strands of your hair, and you can't help but tip your head back a little, letting him feel the weight of your skull in his hand. His thumb traces a soft, slow line over the nape of your neck, and you shiver at the sensation.

"This is a bad idea," he says. His words are barely a murmur, and they send a warm thrill running through you.

"Yeah," you agree. You reach up and curl a hand around the back of his neck, stroking the sensitive skin with your thumb, and his eyes flutter closed. “Come back to the ship with me.”

“Kriff,” he mutters, his voice rough. He looks back at you, his eyes searching your face, and he lets out a frustrated huff.

Echo steps back, releasing his hold on your head, and you hold your breath as you watch him. You wait for him to leave, to walk away from you, but he just reaches for his drink and finishes it, his eyes never leaving yours. When he's done, he sets the empty glass on the counter and holds his hand out.

"Let's go."

You can't help the way your face lights up at the words. You finish the last of your drink and take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. You weave through the crowd, the two of you practically joined at the hip, his hand still grasping yours tightly.

"Do you want to let the others know we're leaving?"

"Nah," Echo says. He doesn't turn to look at you, his eyes fixed ahead as he pulls you along. "They're too busy having a good time."

"But—"

"Stitches.”

He glances over his shoulder, giving you a sharp look. The intensity in his gaze, the hunger, is enough to send a rush of heat through your body, and you swallow.

"Oh," you say, the word almost a gasp. 

Echo gives you a little smile, and his hand slips away from yours. For a moment, the loss is nearly overwhelming, and then his fingers skim over your lower back. They trace a slow line down to your hip, and his hand settles there, guiding you through the crowd. The touch is light, gentle, but it's the possessiveness of it that sends a shiver up your spine.

When the two of you step through the doors and into the night air, he lets his hand slip lower, until it's resting just above the swell of your ass. You're not sure if the motion is intentional or not, but it sets a fire alight in you, and you have to resist the urge to press back against his palm or try to coax him to move lower.

You slow down. "So, uh, are we gonna—"

"Walk and talk," Echo says, cutting you off with a gentle push forward. His voice is low, and there's an authoritative edge to it that makes your knees feel weak. "The others will notice that we're gone eventually. We don't have a lot of time."

"Okay," you say, nodding. The two of you walk quickly through the city, and you're grateful for the fresh air. It clears your head a fraction, enough that the buzz of the alcohol has started to fade, and you're left with a sharp clarity.

The silence between the two of you is tense, but it's not uncomfortable. It feels charged, full of energy, and you're keenly aware of his hand on your lower back. His fingers are splayed out, his hand spanning the width of your waist, and his thumb is tracing a slow line over the fabric of your shirt.

It's driving you crazy, and you can't help the way you arch your back, pushing into the pressure. You feel his grip tighten, and you bite your lip, fighting back a moan.

Echo lets out a small chuckle. "Someone's eager."

"I thought we’ve established that already,” you reply. You let a bit of a whine slip into your voice, and when he looks over, his eyes are wide.

"Are you always like this?" he asks.

"Like what?"

"This..." he trails off, gesturing with his scomp, and his face flushes a light pink. "Teasing."

"Only when I want someone."

Echo doesn't say anything in response. He just nods and keeps walking, but you don't miss the way his grip tightens a little, or the way he starts moving faster.

The moment the two of you are through the hatch of the Marauder, Echo slams his palm on the control panel, shutting the door behind him. The ship goes dark as you stand a few feet apart, staring at each other. 

Echo leans against the wall, settling back with a considering look on his face, and he crosses his arms. He’s lit by the light coming through the window, and the pale glow makes him look otherworldly.

"Well?" you prompt, raising an eyebrow.

"Come here."

His voice is quiet, and you can barely hear him over the pounding of your heart. But the tone leaves no room for argument, and you can't help but comply. You step forward, moving slowly, and Echo's eyes track your movements. 

You stop when your shoes are a few inches from his, and you tilt your head, looking up at him. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and it's taking every ounce of self-control not to touch him.

"What do you want from me?" he asks.

"I—"

"No," he says. His hand and scomp come up, settling on your hips, and the motion pushes the two of you together. He's so close that you can feel his breath on your face, and the warmth of his body is burning through the layers of your clothing. "Don't think about it. Tell me."

Your eyes dart down to his lips, and he doesn't miss the movement. His lips quirk upward, and his thumb rubs gentle, slow circles on the fabric of your shirt.

"I want—" you break off, hesitating, and Echo gives your hip a squeeze. The pressure is light, but it's enough to get you to focus.

"I want this. I want you," you say, the words tumbling out in a rush. You take a breath and meet his eyes. "But I want you to know that I'm not just doing this because it's convenient, or because I'm bored. I'm doing this because I like you, Echo. I have for a long time."

Echo doesn't speak, and for a moment, the only sound is the gentle hum of the ship around you. His eyes search your face, as though trying to determine if you're being truthful, and you watch as the hard edge of his expression softens, replaced by something softer, something hopeful.

"You really mean that, don't you?"

"Yeah," you reply. You feel a wave of relief at his words, and you can't help the grin that spreads across your face.

"How long?"

"I don't know," you answer honestly. You take a step closer, until there's no more space between the two of you. He doesn't move, but you can see the way his breath catches, and you can feel the way his hand tightens on your hip.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you weren't ready," you say. You take a deep breath, and the motion makes his eyes drop to your mouth again. "I wanted to wait until you were ready. So I just want you to know, this isn’t—I mean, it's not just a fling, or anything. I want this to mean something."

"Good," he says quietly. "Me too."

You can't help the sigh of relief that escapes your lips. "Thank fuck."

Echo's lips twitch, and he ducks his head. The tips of his ears are a bit pink, and his shoulders are shaking a little.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he says, looking back up. There's a soft smile on his face, and it makes your stomach flutter. "I just—you're really cute, you know that?"

"Am I?"

"Yeah," he replies, and his fingers start tracing patterns on your hip. The feeling is a light, tickling sensation, and you can't help the way your body shifts a bit, moving closer.

“Is that a good thing?” you ask.

"Depends," he says, and the way he parrots your words makes you laugh. He smiles and adds, "And I’m a little relieved. I don't do flings."

"Then why'd you agree to come back here with me?"

"Because I trust you," he says. "And because I want you. More than I've wanted anyone in a long time. Maybe ever."

"Yeah?"

Echo nods, his eyes never leaving yours. You're both close, and you can feel the tension building between the two of you. He's not holding back anymore, and his expression is open, his emotions plain on his face. The butterflies in your stomach kick up, fluttering wildly. Echo reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. He tucks it behind your ear, and the contact is gentle, tender. His fingers brush against the sensitive shell, and the feeling is so delicate, so soft, that it sends a shiver through you.

"Yeah."

You nod, a smile spreading across your face. "Okay, then."

"Okay."

He's smiling now too, and the sight is almost too much. You've seen him smile plenty of times before, but this one is different, and it takes your breath away. His fingers skim over the curve of your jaw, and when they reach your chin, he tilts it up, angling your face towards his. Your lips part, and you suck in a quick breath.

"So," he says, his voice quiet. His eyes drop to your mouth, and he pauses for a moment, just staring. His tongue darts out, swiping over his lips, and when his gaze flicks back up to meet yours, his pupils are blown. "What do you want me to do?"

You hesitate, the words sticking in your throat. You're not quite sure how to answer the question. It's a little hard to form words when his thumb is brushing over the soft, sensitive skin of your chin.

"Don't get shy on me now," Echo murmurs. "Come on, tell me."

"I want—" You break off, swallowing. Your throat feels dry, and you try again. "I want you to kiss me."

His mouth curls up into a smirk. "You can do better than that."

"Kriff, Echo, just—"

His grip on your chin tightens a fraction, and you force yourself to swallow and try again, more confidence in your voice. "I want you to fuck me. I want you to take what you want. I want you to make me feel good. Is that enough for you?"

Echo's smirk melts away, and his lips part, his breath coming out in a quick huff. His eyes are fixed on your mouth, and his pupils are dilated, his irises just a thin ring of gold around the edges.

"Fuck," he mutters, and his eyes flicker back up to meet yours. There's an intensity to his gaze that sends a shiver through you, and the feeling is only heightened when his thumb traces the edge of your bottom lip, his touch light.

"So what do you think?" you ask, unable to keep a hint of amusement from creeping into your voice.

Echo shakes his head, his brow furrowed, and you can't help the way your lips curve into a grin. His gaze darts back down to your mouth, and his own lips twitch. When he speaks, his voice is low and husky.

"I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"That you'd be like this," he says. There's a teasing note in his voice, but the look on his face is serious, and you can't help the shiver that runs through you.

"You've been thinking about it?" you ask softly.

"Yeah, I have," he mutters, and then he's moving. He grips your waist, lifting you, his scomp arm sliding underneath your ass, and he turns, pressing you against the wall. The sudden motion and the cool metal at your back sends a rush of adrenaline through you, tearing a sound from your lips.

"I've been thinking about it too," you admit, wrapping your legs around his waist. You're clinging to him, and you can't stop the way you're moving your hips, rubbing against him.

"You have, huh?"

"Yeah," you breathe. "You have no idea."

He makes a sound, a cross between a laugh and a groan. He closes his eyes, and his head falls forward, his forehead pressing against yours.

"I've been driving myself crazy," he mutters, his voice thick with desire. "Just wondering."

"Is that why you've been staring at me?"

He huffs a quiet laugh, and he lifts his head, a rueful smile on his face. "You noticed."

"It was hard not to." You grin, leaning back a fraction, and his grip on your hip tightens, his fingers digging into the fabric of your pants. "Especially when I was trying to catch you."

He lets out a frustrated sigh, and he presses you against the wall, his hips grinding into yours. The pressure is firm and steady, and you can't stifle the moan that slips out.

"You are cruel," he says, and there's a note of wonder in his voice.

"So are you," you shoot back, rocking your hips against him. "All that eye-fucking."

"Eye-fucking," he repeats, letting out a short laugh. "That's what you're calling it?"

"It's accurate."

He lets out another quiet chuckle, his body shaking a fraction, and the motion sends a shiver up your spine.

"I just had to figure it out," he explains. "I had to make sure."

In the dim light, it's hard to see the details of his face, but you can't miss the heat in his eyes, or the flush that colors his cheeks. You can't help the soft laugh that escapes your lips, and you reach up, letting the backs of your fingers trace over his jaw.

"I didn't mind," you say softly. "I've been watching you, too."

Echo hums, a soft, thoughtful sound, his eyes searching your face. "Watching me, huh?"

"Of course," you say. You lean forward, brushing your lips over the sensitive shell of his ear. You can feel him tense against you, and when you drag the tip of your tongue along the delicate flesh, he sucks in a sharp breath. "And I've liked what I've seen."

"Fuck," he breathes, and you can feel him shudder. "Do that again."

You oblige, pressing another kiss to his ear, and this time, you let your teeth scrape over the delicate skin. He lets out a low moan, and his hips roll forward, grinding against yours.

"Kriff, that feels good," he groans, and the sound goes straight to your core. "Keep going."

You nip at the soft skin, and when his hips roll again, you grind down, pushing back. The friction is delicious, and the motion makes him gasp, his eyes fluttering shut. Your mouth trails along his jaw, and his skin is soft under your lips. You kiss a slow path along the edge, and when you reach his chin, you nip the skin, making him jerk his hips again.

"Fuck, you're—" he breaks off with a groan, his head falling back as you trail a series of kisses down his neck.

"I'm what?" your murmur, tracing a line of kisses underneath his jaw.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he manages. His head falls forward, and his mouth crashes into yours.

It's not a gentle kiss. It's messy, a little desperate, and when his tongue licks into your mouth, you can't help the whimper that escapes your lips. He tastes like spice and smoke, and he's kissing you with an intensity that makes your head spin.

You let go of his neck, and your hands move to his chest, tracing over the hard planes. His lips move frantically against yours, his scomp underneath your ass encouraging the motion of your hips, and his hand roams over your body everywhere he can reach. He grabs your waist, squeezing the soft flesh of your hip, running up your ribs and skimming over your stomach before drifting back down. He cups your ass, grabbing a fistful of the flesh and tugging you closer, until there's not an inch of space between the two of you.

You can't help but moan, and the sound seems to spur him on. He lets out a low groan and pulls away, leaving a trail of biting kisses along the line of your jaw, down your throat. His mouth is hot and wet against your skin, and he nips the sensitive flesh, soothing the sting with his tongue.

"Echo," you gasp. "Bed, please. Now."

He nods before his mouth finds yours again. The kiss is sloppy and deep, his tongue sliding against yours, and you can't help the moan that escapes your lips as he pulls away. Echo steps back and sets you on your feet, steadying you with his scomp when your knees wobble.

"Come on," he murmurs. He takes a step forward, backing you toward the bunks, and his gaze doesn't leave yours as he navigates the small space.

His bunk is only a few steps away, and when you reach it, Echo stills. He turns you, guiding you until you're facing the bed, your back to him. You can feel the warmth of his body behind you, the press of his armor against your back.

"Take off your shirt," he says, his voice low in your ear. His scomp is a firm weight on your hip, keeping you still, and his other hand drifts over your side, ghosting over your ribs.

You reach for the hem of your shirt and tug it over your head, letting it fall to the ground. Echo deftly unhooks your bra, sliding the straps down your arms, and you toss it on top of your shirt. He presses a soft, gentle kiss to the back of your neck, and his hand slides up your waist.  You're not sure when he took the glove off his hand, but his fingers are tracing a slow, languid path, his calluses sending little tingles over your skin.

"Take off your pants," he says. The words are quiet, almost reverent, and his fingers brush over the soft swell of your breast.

You follow his command, taking off your boots and socks before you slide the pants down your legs. Your underwear is last, and the thin material is soaked through, the damp fabric clinging to the sensitive flesh.

When you turn back around, he's watching you with a look of open desire. His eyes are dark and heated, and the way they drag over your body, taking in the sight of your naked form, sends a flush spreading over your skin.

"You're overdressed," you say, and there's a teasing edge to your voice.

Echo doesn't answer, just gives you a heated look before turning his attention to his armor. He removes it piece by piece, until the only thing left is his blacks. The fabric clings to his body, outlining the hard planes of muscle and the sharp angles of his shoulders. You can't help but watch him, taking in the sight of him, and the longer you stare, the more he seems to relax.

"Enjoying the show?" he asks, his mouth quirking in a smile.

"Yes," you say honestly. "Very much."

"Good," he says, and he lifts his scomp, making a twirling motion. "Turn around."

You obey, turning back around, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him smile.

"Now bend over," he says, and the words send a bolt of heat straight to your core. "Hands on the bunk."

"Echo—"

"Trust me," he murmurs, and the words send a shiver down your spine. "It'll be worth it."

You nod, and slowly bend at the waist. You brace yourself, leaning forward and resting your weight on your forearms. The position leaves you vulnerable, and you can't help the way a hot, tingling blush creeps over your skin.

"Good," Echo murmurs. His hand slides over your hip, and he gives it a light squeeze before trailing his fingers over the curve of your ass.

"Are you—"

"Don't move," he says, and the words send a jolt of heat straight through you. He's standing so close, his body nearly pressed against yours, and the warmth of his body is seeping into you, heating your skin. "Just let me take care of you."

He steps back, and you can't help but squirm, trying to follow him. "But—"

"What did I just say?" he asks, and the tone of his voice makes your core clench.

"Echo," you whine, and your voice is a bit higher than usual. You can't help the way the heat creeps into your face, or the way your stomach flutters.

"What did I say?" he repeats. He reaches up and brushes his fingers over the curve of your ass, his touch feather-light.

"Don't move."

"Good girl," he says. You hear him drop to his knees behind you, and his hand slides over the curve of your ass. He grabs a handful of the flesh, squeezing it, and the pressure is enough to make your hips jerk.

"Stay still," he says, his voice low and firm. "You know the rules."

"Yeah," you breathe, a bit breathless. "I'll be good."

Echo doesn't say anything, but his thumb rubs a slow, soothing circle over the soft skin. His hand slips from your ass and comes up to the junction of your thighs. He traces the crease where your leg meets your ass, and his fingers brush over the sensitive skin.

"Open your legs," he murmurs, his breath hot on the skin of your inner thigh. "Wider."

You obey, widening your stance, and when you do, he lets out a low hum of approval.

"Just like that," he says. His scomp rests on your hip, steading you as his fingers dip between your thighs. They drag over the sensitive folds, spreading the slick arousal coating your core. The touch is light, teasing, and it's barely enough to satisfy the ache building inside you.

"Kriff, Echo," you groan, and your voice is a bit shaky. "Please, don't—"

"Don't what?" he asks. His hand stills, and he doesn't move, his fingers barely touching the heated flesh.

"Don't tease me," you beg, and the words come out a bit strangled.

"You like it, though," he says. He leans forward, his tongue darting out and dragging a slow, wet line up your core. The feeling makes your hips jerk, and the muscles of your abdomen clench. "Don't you?"

"Yes," you gasp, and the word comes out a bit ragged. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing, desperate for any kind of friction, and the tension is nearly unbearable.

"Then let me," he says, and his voice is a low, raspy murmur. "Let me make this good for you."

He ducks his head again, and his tongue is hot and slick as it drags through your folds, the tip just barely dipping inside your entrance. He repeats the motion, his tongue teasing the sensitive flesh, and the feeling makes your hips buck. His scomp is firm on your hip, preventing you from moving too far, and you can't quite decide if the lack of control is maddening or exhilarating.

"Echo," you whine, and the sound is a plaintive, pleading noise.

He doesn't answer. His thumb and scomp move, his thumb spreading the swollen lips of your pussy, and his scomp helps holds them apart, giving him better access. The motion leaves you exposed, the cool air of the ship caressing the heated flesh, and the feeling makes a shiver run down your spine.

"Look at you," he murmurs. He lets out a low, satisfied sound, and you can't help the way you push into his touch. "So eager."

He dips his head and his tongue slides over your core, tracing a slow, torturous line to your clit. When he reaches it, he presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the throbbing bud. The feeling is almost too much, and your hips buck, trying to get away from the sensation.

"No, no, no," he says. "None of that."

His hand grips your hip, holding you still as he teases the bundle of nerves with his tongue. He traces circles around it, and when he sucks it into his mouth, the feeling makes your legs tremble.

"Oh, fuck," you moan, and your hands curl into fists, clutching at the blankets.

"Do you like that?"

"Yes," you gasp. "Feels good."

He hums, the vibration making your legs shake. "How about this?"

You suck in a breath as he presses his tongue flat against your clit, his lips wrapped around the throbbing bundle. His tongue strokes the sensitive flesh, and when he slides a finger inside you, your vision blurs.

"Oh, fuck, yes," you groan. "Yes, yes, please, just like that."

"Good," he says. His voice is a low rasp, and it makes heat pool in your belly. "You're doing so good for me."

Your walls clench around his finger, drawing him deeper, and he starts a slow, torturous pace, working his finger in and out of your dripping cunt.

"Please," you pant. "More. I need more."

"Like this?" he asks. He slides a second finger along with the first, stretching the delicate tissue. The burn is delicious, and it feels so good, the way his fingers fill you up. His mouth is hot and slick against you, and his tongue is dragging over the hard bud of your clit. His fingers thrust slowly, the motion gentle, and his scomp is holding you still, keeping you from pushing back against him. 

The way he's forcing you to stay still, to let him do as he pleases, is sending a hot, tingling flush spreading over your skin. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your breath is coming in short, shallow pants, your entire body wound tight.

"Do you like that?" Echo murmurs, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your inner thigh.

"Yes," you manage. You can feel the heat rising inside you, the tension building in your belly, and your toes are starting to curl. "So much."

"Good girl," he says, and the words send a wave of warmth rushing through you. "You're being so good for me."

"Thank you," you pant. "Feels so good."

He hums in response as his scomp leaves your hip, and you feel the cold, metal appendage drag down the curve of your ass. It slides lower, until the tip of the metal is just barely pressing against the folds of your entrance. The feeling is foreign and strange, and the sensation makes you jerk.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"Y-yes," you say. The sensation is unfamiliar, and the feeling of the cool metal against your core is making your muscles twitch. "Keep going."

He slides lower through your wet folds, and the motion is slow and deliberate. It's not like his fingers or his tongue, not quite the same. It's harder, cooler, less yielding, but the contrast is delicious, and it's making your legs tremble.

"That feels..."

"Weird?" he asks, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

"Not bad," you manage, and the words come out a bit strangled. "Different. Good."

"You want more?"

"Yes," you groan. Your hands tighten in the blankets, and the heat is starting to creep up your spine. "Yes, please."

He doesn't reply, just slides his scomp back up through the folds again, this time a little harder. The metal is smooth, and the tip is cool against your clit. He drags it over the hard bud, and the feeling makes a jolt of electricity shoot through you.

"Echo," you gasp.

"Shh," he says. His mouth is hot against your thigh, and his lips press a wet, sucking kiss to the sensitive flesh. "Just relax. Let me take care of you."

You nod, and your eyes slip shut. Your hands clench in the sheets, and the feeling of his mouth, of his fingers, of his scomp, is enough to drive all thoughts from your mind. Your head falls forward, resting against the bunk, and you can't help the soft, desperate sounds that fall from your lips.

Echo keeps up a steady rhythm, his fingers thrusting as his scomp presses patterns over the throbbing bundle of nerves. You can feel the pressure inside you growing, building, and the tension is so intense that it makes your legs shake.

"Please," you beg. "I need—"

"Shh," he soothes. "I know what you need. I'll take care of you."

You whimper, your body shaking, and the tension inside you is nearly unbearable. He keeps up a slow, steady pace, and you can feel your orgasm coiling, tightening inside you.

"I need—"

"Let go," he murmurs. He curls his fingers, pressing the tips against the bundle of nerves hidden inside you, and the feeling is enough to send you hurtling over the edge.

Your body goes rigid, your back arching, and your eyes slam shut as your orgasm crashes through you. The sensation is intense, almost painful, and the tension in your muscles is so strong that it's hard to breathe.

Echo doesn't stop, doesn't even slow. He keeps up the slow, steady pace, and it feels like hours pass before the aftershocks subside, leaving you limp and sated. Your head is spinning, and your lungs are burning as you try to catch your breath. Your release is slick and sticky on your thighs, and Echo's tongue slides over your skin, lapping it up.

"You're perfect," he murmurs. He trails a series of kisses over the swell of your ass, the tip of his nose tracing the line of your spine. "So beautiful."

Finally, Echo pulls away. He removes his fingers, and the sudden emptiness makes you gasp. You collapse forward, unable to hold yourself up any longer, and the sheets are cool and soft against your face. You're dimly aware of Echo shifting, his arm slipping under you, lifting you off the bed. He sits on the edge, holding you against him, chest to chest, and your legs fall to either side of his thighs.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice a low, husky whisper.

"I think so," you mumble. Your head is still spinning, and your limbs feel heavy, a pleasant lassitude spreading through your body. "Just need a minute."

Echo doesn't answer, just nods. He reaches up, brushing your hair away from your face. His fingertips trail over the shell of your ear, and the contact sends a shiver down your spine.

"You were so good," he murmurs. "Such a good girl."

The praise makes a hot flush spread over your cheeks, and you turn your face, hiding it in the crook of his neck.

"Don't," you mumble, the word muffled by his blacks.

"Don't what?" he asks. There's a note of amusement in his voice, and you know without looking that he's smiling.

"Don't tease me."

"But you liked it," he says. His arm tightens around your waist, and his other hand slides into your hair, gently cradling the back of your head. "And I meant every word."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he says, and his hand moves, cupping your cheek. His thumb brushes over the soft skin, and he tilts your head up, leaning down to brush his lips against yours.

The kiss is soft and sweet, a gentle brush of lips, and it's almost enough to make your heart stop. Your hands move, reaching up and fisting in his blacks, and you pull him closer. You can taste yourself on his lips, the tangy-sweet flavor a sharp contrast to the lingering sweetness of the liquor.

When you pull away, the look on his face makes your heart skip a beat.

"You're staring," you murmur.

"Yeah," he says. He runs a thumb over the swell of your bottom lip, and the touch is soft, reverent. "You're beautiful."

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

"Good to know," he says, grinning.

You smile and reach up, tracing the line of his jaw. His skin is warm and soft under your fingers, and the stubble is a rough contrast to the smoothness of his cheek.

"I could stare at you forever," he says.

"I'm sure there's something else you'd rather be doing," you say, grinning.

"Maybe," he says. His eyes flick over your face, searching. "What about you? What would you rather be doing?"

"You," you say, and his lips twitch in a smile.

"Now who's the flatterer?"

"It's not flattery," you say, and his eyes are bright, the gold flecks in them glowing in the dim lighting. "I want you, Echo. More than I've wanted anyone in a long time."

"So what are we waiting for?" he asks.

"What, you don't want me to return the favor?" you tease, running a hand over his shoulder.

"I'd love that," he says, and his voice is a low rasp, his breath hot against your skin. "But later. Right now, I just want you."

"Well," you say, trailing your hand down his chest. "I'm not stopping you."

Echo smiles and leans down, his mouth finding yours. The kiss is soft, almost tentative, and it sends a bolt of heat straight through you. His lips are gentle against yours, and when his tongue traces the seam, you part for him.

The kiss deepens, and his tongue slides against yours, the slick, velvety muscle stroking yours. You can't help the soft, breathy sound that escapes your lips, and when his teeth nip at your bottom lip, your hands tighten in his blacks.

He lets out a soft grunt, his arm tightening around your waist, and he shifts, the movement rocking his hips forward. The friction makes a soft gasp escape your lips, and you can't help the way you press closer.

"Come on," you murmur, kissing a path along his jaw. You nip the skin, and his hips roll again, pushing up.

"Fuck, wait," he breathes. "Let me—"

You bite down, and his head falls back, exposing the column of his throat. You lean forward, nipping the skin, and the sound he makes is like a prayer.

"Come on," you say again, your teeth dragging over the skin.

"Kriff, wait," he groans, and his scomp is cool against the small of your back. "Just a second."

You pause, pulling away and looking at him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he says, his breathing a bit ragged. "I just—it's been a while, okay?"

"A while?"

"Yeah," he says, and he's blushing, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. "A long while."

"So?"

"So," he says. He glances down at his lap, then back at you. "It's gonna be over embarrassingly fast if you keep doing that."

"Doing what?" you ask, unable to keep the grin from spreading across your face. "This?"

You lean forward, pressing a kiss to the soft skin just below his ear, and the action makes him suck in a breath. His hand comes up, sliding into your hair, and he guides you to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, his fingers tightening. You can't help the satisfied smile that crosses your face, and when you nip the tender skin, his hips buck, grinding against you.

"Come on," you whisper. You let your tongue slide over the skin, and his hand flexes in your hair. "You don't have to worry about me."

"That's not the point," he mutters, and his hand slides from your hair to grip your hip. "I want you to have fun."

"And I am," you murmur. You drag the tip of your tongue along the line of his throat, and the motion makes him groan. "Trust me, I'm having plenty of fun."

"You're not worried about—about..."

"About what?" you ask. "About finishing early? About getting off and leaving me hanging?"

"Yeah," he admits, his voice low. "Something like that."

"Why would I be? You already made me come," you say with a smile. "That was fun, remember?"

"Yeah," he says. His scomp slides over the curve of your ass, pulling you closer.

"Then why don't you let me have some more fun?" you murmur. You rock your hips forward, and the motion makes him groan. "Come on. Let me take care of you."

"Are you—"

"If I say it's fine, it's fine," you say. You press a line of kisses down his neck, pausing to nip the soft skin. "Stop worrying and just enjoy yourself."

"That's—"

"Easy for you to say," you finish, and he huffs out a breath.

"Come on," you murmur, nipping the skin. "Let go."

He doesn't say anything, just tugs your hips forward, grinding you against him. You can't help the soft gasp that slips past your lips, and the feel of him, even through the fabric, is delicious.

"Just like that," you whisper, your lips brushing over his jaw.

Echo rolls his hips again, and the friction is delicious. The pressure is almost too much, but his grip on you is tight, preventing you from pulling away. His mouth finds yours, his tongue sliding past your lips, and he licks into your mouth with a slow, wet slide. The kiss is messy and frantic, his tongue tracing the edges of your lips, the tip flicking over the roof of your mouth.

You moan at the feeling of his mouth on yours, the way he's taking what he wants, and the sound seems to spur him on. He surges forward, your back hitting the bed, and his body follows, covering yours. He braces himself, his weight on his elbows, his mouth never leaving yours. His tongue delves deeper, and the kiss is hard and messy, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip.

"You feel so good," he groans, his lips brushing over the soft skin. "Can I—"

"Yes," you interrupt, and he lets out a soft laugh.

"At least let me ask," he says. "It's polite."

"You’ve been very polite," you say. Your fingers trace over his ribs, and his abs clench beneath the soft touch. "But please, don't hold back anymore."

Echo pulls away, and the look on his face is enough to send a hot, tingling blush spreading over your cheeks. He's watching you with a mix of awe and desire, as his hand reaches down, fumbling with the clasp of his blacks.

"Do you need some help?" you tease, grinning.

"No," he says. His tone is firm, almost commanding, and the sound makes your stomach flip.

Echo finally manages to unclasp the garment, and his hand falls away, letting the blacks hang loose around his hips. He tugs them down, revealing the hard planes of his stomach, the sharp cut of his hips, and he slides off the bed and stands, kicking them away.

When he turns back to face you, his thumb hooks into the waistband of his briefs, and his eyes meet yours.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Are you seriously asking that question?"

"Just checking," he says. He hesitates, and the expression on his face is almost shy. "I'm not... I mean, I don't look like—"

"Echo, if you don't get your ass back over here and fuck me, I'm going to scream," you say, and he snorts.

"Alright, alright," he says. He tugs the briefs down his legs, and when his cock is free, it bobs, slapping against his abdomen. You try not to stare, but the sight of him is enough to make your core clench.

Your eyes widen, and the words die on your lips.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Uh-huh."

Echo steps closer, and the movement makes his cock bob again. The shaft is long and thick, the head a deep, dusky red, and the sight makes your mouth go dry. He's leaking, and when he gives himself a quick stroke, a bead of precum dribbles down the head, making the soft skin glisten.

"Fuck, you're pretty," you say, and his cheeks turn a faint shade of pink.

"You're one to talk," he murmurs, his gaze flicking over you. "I could stare at you all night."

You blush and shift, pulling your legs together. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"No," he says, his voice soft. "Just you."

Your breath catches, and for a moment, neither of you speak.

"I should, uh, get a—"

"I have an implant,” you say, and he nods, swallowing.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you murmur. "If you're good with it, I'm good with it."

"Yeah," he breathes, and his gaze is dark, heated. "Yeah, okay."

He hesitates for a moment before grabbing the neck of his blacks, and with a quick motion, he pulls the shirt off, dropping it onto the pile. You can't help the way your eyes roam over his body, taking in the sight of him.

His muscles are defined and well-defined, his arms and shoulders corded with lean muscle. The planes of his chest and abdomen are sharp, the lines of his muscles standing out in sharp relief under the scars that spread across his skin, and you can't stop yourself from reaching out and tracing a line over his ribs. You’re pleased to see he’s put on weight, the bones not so prominent, and there are some soft edges where there were none before.

He's beautiful, and for a moment, you're struck dumb by the sight of him. 

Echo watches you, and the longer you stare, the more his muscles twitch, his nerves clearly getting the best of him.

"Sorry, you're just—you're really hot," you say. "It's a bit intimidating."

He lets out a soft huff of laughter, and his cheeks flush.

"Yeah, right," he says. He climbs onto the bunk and crawls toward you, his eyes locked on yours. When he reaches you, he settles himself between your legs, his forearms resting on either side of your head.

"If anyone's intimidated, it's me."

"Why's that?"

"Have you seen yourself?" he murmurs. He leans down, brushing his lips against yours. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

The words make your heart stutter, and you reach up, cupping his cheek. "You're just saying that because you want to get laid."

"I'm just saying it because it's true," he says, and the words are a quiet whisper against your lips.

He dips his head, and his mouth finds yours again. You can't help the soft moan that escapes, and the sound makes Echo's hips rock against yours. His cock brushes against your thigh, a warm, velvety weight, and the feel of him sends a wave of heat crashing through you.

Echo breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged. His hips move again, and this time, his cock drags against the folds of your core.

"What do you want?" he asks, his nose brushing over the swell of your cheek. "Tell me."

"You," you say, and your hands slide over his shoulders, clutching at his back. "Inside me. Now."

Echo doesn't answer, just shifts, sliding the thick head of his cock through the slick arousal coating your folds. When the tip brushes against the bundle of nerves nestled between the swollen flesh, your hips jerk, and a soft whine slips past your lips.

"Come on," you whisper, and your voice is a breathless, needy whimper. "Just—"

"Shh," he murmurs, his mouth finding yours. "I've got you."

He reaches down, gripping the base of his cock and guiding the head to your entrance. He doesn't move, doesn't thrust, just lets the tip rest there, a heavy weight against your core. The anticipation is almost too much, and you can feel the slick, heated flesh throb, clenching around nothing.

"Gods, Echo," you breathe. "Don't tease."

"You like it," he says, and his hand slides over your thigh, his fingers wrapping around your knee. He pulls it up, spreading you open, and his hips shift, his cock bumping your clit.

"Kriff, come on," you gasp, your back arching. "Don't—"

He doesn't wait for you to finish, just pushes forward. His cock is thick, the stretch almost too much, and the sudden feeling makes a soft, keening cry slip past your lips. He stills, and you can feel him trembling, the muscles in his shoulders quivering.

"Fuck, you're tight," he chokes out. "Just—hold still for a second."

You nod, and Echo lets out a shuddering breath, his head falling forward. His forehead presses against your shoulder, and his eyes slip shut. His hips twitch, and the motion makes his cock sink another inch inside you, the stretch making a soft whine slip past your lips.

"Shit," he breathes. "You're—I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," you gasp.

He nods and shifts his hips, sliding a few inches deeper. His cock is thick and heavy, and the feeling of him stretching you is almost too much. The fullness is almost painful, but there's something delicious about the burn, and you can't help the way you twitch, trying to get closer.

"Fuck," he groans, and the word comes out strangled. "How are you so kriffing tight?"

"Sorry," you gasp. "Been a while."

"You're going to kill me," he murmurs, and his hips push forward again, the movement a slow, steady slide. "Just—fuck, you feel so good."

His words make a bolt of heat shoot through you, and the tension inside you is nearly unbearable. You can't help the way a soft whimper slips past your lips, and the sound makes his hips jerk, his cock sinking deeper.

"Shh," he whispers, his breath hot against your shoulder. His hand tightens on your knee, and the motion spreads you wider, allowing him to sink deeper. "I'll take care of you."

"Come on," you plead. Your hands slide over his back, the skin damp with sweat, and you can feel the muscles tense and relax under your touch. "I can take it."

"I know you can," he says, and his scomp strokes the curve of your hip. "You're being so good for me. Taking me so well."

The praise makes a shiver run down your spine, and his hips thrust again, pushing forward until he's buried to the hilt. The feeling is intense, the stretch a delicious ache, and your legs fall to either side, spreading to accommodate him.

"That's it," he murmurs. "Good girl."

You can't help the way the words make your core clench, and the feeling makes his breath catch.

"You like that, huh?" he asks, his mouth moving against the hollow of your throat. "Being told what a good girl you are?"

"Echo," you whine.

"Yeah," he breathes. "You do."

He lifts his head and kisses you, his tongue sliding against yours. The kiss is slow, languid, and his hand is gentle as he cups your cheek. His thumb strokes over your skin, the touch almost reverent, and the sweetness is such a stark contrast to the way he's buried deep inside you that it makes your head spin.

"Fuck, Echo," you gasp, the words muffled against his lips.

"So good for me," he says. His hand leaves your face and moves to your leg, pulling your knee up and pressing it toward your chest. Your ankle rests on his shoulder, and the position allows him to push deeper, his hips grinding against yours.

The new angle makes him slide against a spot hidden deep inside you, and the sudden rush of sensation makes your toes curl.

"Oh, fuck," you gasp. "Right there."

"Here?" he murmurs. He repeats the motion, his hips rolling against yours, and the feeling is so intense that your vision blurs.

"Yeah," you manage through a choked sob.

"That's it," he soothes, and his hand strokes the side of your thigh. "You're doing so good for me."

His hand moves from your leg to the bunk, and his weight presses down on you, his body covering yours. His movements are slow and deliberate, his hips grinding against yours. Each thrust is a steady, rolling grind, and the pressure is so intense that it takes everything in you not to break apart.

"Good girl," he murmurs, and his mouth finds yours. The kiss is messy, a contrast of hard and soft, and when his teeth nip at your bottom lip, the sharp pinch is a delicious counterpoint to the sweetness.

His hand leaves the bunk and slides into your hair, fisting the soft strands and holding you still. The grip is firm, but not rough, and the sensation is strangely erotic, sending a rush of heat coursing through you.

"Harder," you gasp, and he obeys, snapping his hips forward hard enough to punch the breath from your lungs. The new pace is harder, faster, and the slap of flesh against flesh is loud in the quiet of the ship.

"Fuck," he groans. "You feel so fucking good."

You don't reply, just moan, and his hand tightens in your hair. His teeth graze the line of your jaw, and the sudden bite of pain is so sharp and delicious that it makes your vision blur.

"God, yes," you groan. "Harder."

He lets out a soft grunt and thrusts forward, the force of the movement making the bunk creak. You can't help the strangled cry that slips past your lips, and the noise seems to spur him on, his hips driving against yours with a force that has the bed shaking.

"Echo," you gasp, and the word comes out in a desperate, keening whine. "Please, I need—"

"I know what you need," he whispers, and his hand falls away from your hair to brace himself above you. His scomp leaves your hip and trails between your bodies, the smooth, cool metal sliding over the sensitive bud of your clit. "And I'll give it to you. You just have to trust me."

"I do," you gasp.

"Yeah?" he murmurs, and his mouth moves to your throat. His lips trail a path down the delicate skin, his tongue darting out to taste you. "You trust me?"

"Yes," you manage.

"Good," he says, his breath hot against your skin, and the tip of his scomp presses against the hard bud, circling slowly. "I'm going to make you come. Hard. And when you do, I'm going to fuck you until you're sobbing. Can you take that?"

The words send a thrill of electricity through you, and the tension inside you is so strong that it makes your legs shake.

"Can you?"

"Yes," you manage.

"Good girl," he says, and his teeth nip at the skin below your ear. His scomp moves faster, the motion a steady circle over the throbbing bundle of nerves, and you gasp when you feel it start to vibrate.

"Oh, fuck," you groan. Your back arches, pushing your breasts against his chest. "What—have you always—"

"No," he says, his voice strained. "Never used it for this. Just for you."

"That's—fuck, Echo, please," you beg. Your eyes are squeezed shut, the pleasure so intense that you can't think straight.

"You like that?" he murmurs, and the vibration gets a fraction stronger. The feeling makes a wave of heat wash over you, your muscles clenching and twitching, and your head falls back, resting on the mattress.

"Yes," you gasp.

"You're so close, aren't you?"

"Fuck, Echo," you choke out, and your nails dig into his back, scratching at the skin. He moans at the feeling, his hips driving faster, and the combination of sensations is enough to send you hurtling over the edge.

Your orgasm hits you like a bolt of lightning, and the intensity of it makes your legs spasm, the muscles twitching uncontrollably. You can't control the sounds that are coming from your mouth, desperate gasps and soft, choked sobs, and it's only the feeling of Echo's mouth on yours, kissing the noises away, that keeps you from screaming.

"Oh, fuck," he groans against your mouth. "Just like that. So good for me. Let me hear you."

The words are a whispered prayer against your lips, and the praise makes another wave of heat crash through you. Your core clenches around his cock, and the sensation is so exquisite that it makes tears sting the corners of your eyes. True to his word, he doesn't let up, and his scomp never stops, the vibrations against the sensitive nub sending sparks of electricity shooting through you.

"Please," you sob, and the words are barely audible. "Please, too much."

"One more," he pants. His breathing is ragged, and his thrusts are growing harder, his hips snapping against yours. "Give me one more. Can you do that for me?"

"I don't—I can't—"

"You can," he says. "I know you can. You're being such a good girl for me. Come on. Give me one more."

You nod, unable to speak, and Echo rewards you with a kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. His hips are moving faster, losing any pretense of control, his pelvis grinding against yours with each forward snap of his hips. His scomp circles your clit, and the feeling is so intense that your limbs go numb, a tingling sensation creeping up your spine. You can feel the pressure inside you building again, coiling, and the tension is so strong that it feels like you're going to fly apart.

"Oh, fuck," you gasp, and the words are muffled against his mouth.

"Yeah," he groans. His thrusts are rough, almost desperate, and the movement rocks the bunk. "That's it. You're doing so well. I'm going to make you come all over my cock."

"Please, Echo." Your hands grip his back so hard that you're afraid you're going to leave bruises, and you can feel his muscles tense and release, shifting under the thin layer of sweat-slick skin. "Please."

"I know," he says. His voice is low, husky, and his lips brush over the shell of your ear. "Come on, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come for me."

The words are your undoing. You can't hold back any longer, and with a loud cry, you tumble over the edge, falling headfirst into the blinding, white-hot pleasure that's coursing through you.

This time, your orgasm is too much to contain, and a scream rips from your throat, the sound echoing off the walls. Your back arches, and your legs twitch, a violent tremor wracking your frame as a hot flood of liquid spills from your core. The force of your release is enough to push Echo's cock from your body, and a wet gush follows, coating his stomach and dripping down your thighs.

"Oh, fuck," Echo chokes out. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, and his scomp falls away, slamming down beside your head, bracing himself. "Fuck, I'm—"

He doesn't finish the thought, just fumbles for his cock, gripping the base. It only takes a few quick strokes before he's coming, a loud groan escaping his lips. The first pulse hits your stomach, followed by a second, and a third, and the sensation makes a choked moan slip past your lips. He lets out a low groan, his hips twitching, and his cock dribbles the last few drops of his cum, painting a thick line over your skin.

Through your blurry vision, you see Echo's mouth is open, his eyes wide as he stares down at you, and the sight is so sweet, so genuine, that you can't help the breathless huff of laughter that slips past your lips.

"Kriff," he pants. His hand drops to the bunk, and he props himself up on trembling arms. The two of you stay frozen for a moment, chests heaving, your expressions a mirror of each other's shock.

"Fuck," Echo finally chokes out. "Are you okay?"

You nod, unable to form a coherent thought. You let your head fall back against the mattress, and the movement makes a drop of his cum run down your breast, dripping off the underside and falling to the sheets.

"Did I—"

"So good," you manage, and the words are a slurred mumble. He nods, swallowing, and then he turns, collapsing onto the bunk next to you. He lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh, and when you glance over, he has his forearm draped over his eyes, his chest still heaving.

"Fuck," he breathes. "Oh, fuck."

"What?" you ask. You try to shift, but the feeling of his cum cooling on your stomach and chest is a distracting, sticky sensation, and you're not entirely sure if your limbs are still attached.

"I, uh," he starts. Echo huffs out another small laugh as his arm falls away, and his head lolls to the side, his eyes finding yours. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen. I don't even—you're—that was incredible."

"I can't feel my toes," you admit, and the confession makes him laugh.

"Yeah?"

"I'm serious," you say. "Like, are they still there? Is anything still there?"

He rolls onto his side, making a show of looking you over, and when his gaze lands on the mess covering your abdomen, he sucks in a sharp breath.

"Yeah," he murmurs, his eyes darkening. "They're still there. Everything's still there."

"You look smug," you say.

"Can't imagine why," he says, grinning. He reaches out, tracing a finger through the cooling mess on your skin, and the gentle caress makes a shiver run down your spine. "Fuck, look at you."

"Yeah?"

"You're a mess," he says, and he grins, leaning forward. He kisses you, his lips soft against yours, and when he pulls away, he looks a fraction more composed. "Let me clean you up."

Echo sits up, swinging his legs off the bed, and the movement makes his back muscles ripple, the motion a fluid, graceful flex of sinew and tendon. You can't help the way the sight makes your heart skip a beat, and you have the sudden urge to wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his back, to cling to him and never let him go.

"Are you okay?" he asks, looking over his shoulder at you. "Does anything hurt?"

"No," you say, shaking your head. "Everything feels... really good."

His answering grin is more self-satisfied than you're used to seeing, and the expression is so charming that you can't stop the affectionate roll of your eyes.

"Don't look so pleased with yourself," you tease.

"Hey," Echo says, getting to his feet. "I think I earned it."

"I guess so," you murmur, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

"Come here," he says, turning. He tugs you upright and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against his chest. The sudden motion makes a laugh bubble up in your throat, and he flashes you a grin, his arms tightening around you. He leans down, his mouth finding yours, and the kiss is sweet and tender, his lips moving over yours with a languid, easy affection.

"What's gotten into you?" you ask when he pulls away.

"You," he smirks, tilting his head. "Or I got into you. Something like that."

"Oh, shut up," you laugh, and you shove his shoulder. He smiles, a wide, crooked grin that makes your heart stutter.

"Come on," he says. He pulls away, grabbing your hip and turning you around, guiding you toward the fresher. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"I can do it," you protest, but his arm wraps around your waist, holding you close.

"I know.” 

He doesn't elaborate, just steers you toward the fresher. You lean your hip against the sink while he turns on the shower, and you let him tug you inside, his scomp hooking the handle and closing the door behind the two of you. The water is cool, but it's not unpleasant, and the droplets feel nice against your heated skin.

Echo washes you with a gentleness that takes your breath away, and the tenderness is so at odds with the man you thought you knew. His touch is careful, almost reverent, and there's a quiet intensity in the way he traces the lines and angles of your body with his hand and his scomp, the movements slow and deliberate. He pays special attention to the space between your thighs, the touch firm but still gentle, and the sensation makes you bite back a whimper.

"Shh," he soothes, and his mouth finds the hollow of your throat. He kisses the delicate skin, and the gesture is so sweet that it makes your chest ache.

"Why are you doing this?" you whisper.

"Because I want to," he says, and his thumb swipes over the swell of your breast. "And because you deserve it."

"Deserve it?" you ask as his mouth trails up your neck.

"Yeah," he murmurs. His hand slides up your ribs, and his fingers cup your breast, the palm covering the soft, supple flesh. It's a gentle touch, almost absentminded, and the intimacy of the gesture is so startling that it makes your breath catch.

"Why would you say that?" you whisper.

"Because it's true," he says, and his mouth slides along your jaw, the kiss tender. "Because you deserve to be taken care of. Because I like taking care of you."

"You do?"

"I do," he says, and the words are spoken against the delicate skin just below your ear. "More than anything."

"But—"

"It's okay," he murmurs. "Stop overthinking."

You swallow and nod, and his touch is gentle as he finishes washing you. When you're both clean, Echo leaves you under the water to change the sheets, and you try to ignore the fact that your limbs are a bit unsteady without him. 

The water starts to turn cold, and you quickly shut it off, squeezing some of the excess water from your hair. You step out of the shower and grab a towel, and you smile to yourself when you see your sleep clothes folded on the edge of the sink, Echo's handiwork evident in the perfect creases. You dry off quickly, and you're just pulling on your shorts when you hear the sound of the hatch opening and a pair of heavy footsteps rushing up the ramp.

“Echo!” Wrecker shouts, his voice frantic. The floor shakes slightly under your feet as he comes to a stop, and the hatch slides shut with a metallic clang.

You freeze, the fabric halfway up your thighs, and a bolt of panic shoots through you.

You can hear Echo outside of the fresher, and the rustle of fabric as he tosses the soiled linens to the side, followed by a few muttered curses.

"What?" he finally calls, his tone annoyed.

"There you are," Wrecker says.

"Where else would I be?" Echo snaps, and you can hear him tugging his blacks over his head.

"Crosshair said he lost track of you," Wrecker says, and you hear him walk across the ship. "Thought maybe you were in trouble. And we can't find Stitches. Have you seen her? She disappeared, and she's not answering her comm."

Your eyes go wide, and your stomach drops. Oh, fuck.

"Uh," Echo says, and you hear him shuffling around, the sounds a lot closer than they were before. "Yeah, she's here. She's just, um, taking a shower."

"Oh," Wrecker says. There's a long pause, and you can picture the look on his face, the puzzled frown as he tries to process the information. You can almost hear the gears turning in his brain, and you wait, holding your breath.

"We, uh, decided to head back," Echo explains after the silence has dragged on for a bit too long.

"Together," Wrecker adds. It isn't a question, but the note of suspicion is obvious, and Echo doesn't miss it.

"Yeah," Echo says, his voice strained. He clears his throat. "We were, uh, really tired. We were having a good time, but the club was really loud, and we just..."

He trails off, and you let out a quiet groan and press a hand to your face. You're tempted to leave the fresher, to make your presence known and get the conversation over with, but you can't quite bring yourself to open the door.

"Oh," Wrecker says again, and the way the word is drawn out makes you wince. You can practically hear the grin in his voice, and you know he's figured it out. "You guys had a good time, huh?"

"I mean, not like that," Echo says quickly, and you grimace.

"Uh huh.”

"We were just talking, and we decided to head back, and she was, um, she was drunk, and I was tired, and we were just gonna hang out and watch a holo or something."

"Right," Wrecker says, his tone knowing. "What holo were you gonna watch?"

"It’s uh…” Echo trails off, and a moment later, he lets out a sigh of defeat. You can’t help but laugh at that, the sound loud enough to echo off of the tile.

"Hey Stitches,” Wrecker calls out in greeting, and you roll your eyes and open the door.

"Hi Wrecker," you say, leaning against the door frame.

"Did you have a good time?" he asks with a wide grin.

"Yeah," you say, and you can't help the way your eyes flick to Echo. "We had a really good time."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Echo echoes. His eyes meet yours, and the expression on his face is soft, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. You smile back, unable to keep the happiness from welling up inside you.

"Yeah," you say. You can't help the way you feel yourself blush, the heat rising in your cheeks. "It was, uh, really good."

Wrecker's grin widens, and he glances at Echo, giving him a thumbs-up. Echo blushes, his cheeks turning pink, and his shoulders lift in a small shrug.

"That's good," Wrecker says, beaming. "I'm happy for you guys."

"Thanks, Wrecker," you laugh. "Sorry for making you worry."

"It's okay." He waves a hand. "I'm glad you two had a good time. It's about time."

"Wrecker," Echo groans, and Wrecker lets out a loud guffaw.

"What? I'm not wrong." He looks between the two of you, his smile growing wider. "We've all been rooting for you two. We were starting to get a little worried, honestly. I thought I was gonna have to lock you guys in a closet or somethin'."

Echo lets out a groan and buries his face in his hand, and the sight is so comical that you snort a laugh.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," you say dryly.

"Nah, don’t apologize.” Wrecker pauses, his expression thoughtful. "Well, actually, maybe apologize to Crosshair. He's not too happy about this, since it means he lost the bet."

"The bet?"

"Oh yeah," Wrecker says. "We had a running bet on when you guys would finally hook up. Crosshair thought it would take you until at least next month, so he's pretty pissed."

"You guys were betting on us?" you ask, aghast. Echo's hand slides down his face to cover his mouth, and in his eyes is a mixture of mortification and disbelief.

"Hey, don't look at me," Wrecker says, holding his hands up in defense. "I was for you two from the start. I had last month."

"For fuck's sake," Echo mutters, and he leans against the bulkhead and stares at the ceiling, shaking his head. "Just kill me now."

"Who won?" you ask.

"Hunter," Wrecker grumbles, and he lets out a huff. "He has an unfair advantage, if you ask me."

You and Echo exchange a glance, and Echo shakes his head, looking resigned.

"Don't worry, though," Wrecker continues. "We're all glad you two are finally together."

"Yeah, well, thanks, Wrecker," Echo mutters, and Wrecker beams.

"No problem. Anyways, I’m gonna head back to the club," he says, winking. “You guys enjoy the rest of your night.”

"Sure," Echo groans, his head thumping against the bulkhead.

"Oh, we will," you say, and you shoot Echo a wicked grin. He meets your gaze, his eyes widening and his cheeks going pink before a slow smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"That's my girl," Wrecker crows. He grins and waves before turning on his heel and heading down the ramp. The hatch opens with a hiss, and you listen as the sound of his boots fades into the distance.

The silence is a welcome relief, and the tension seems to leave Echo's shoulders, the muscles relaxing. He takes a step toward you, his scomp reaching out to pull you close, and the motion is so sweet and natural that it makes a wave of emotion rise up inside you.

"Hey," you whisper.

"Hey."

"So," you start slowly. "That was fun."

"I'm sorry," he sighs. "If you wanted to keep it quiet, I'll talk to them."

"No, it's okay," you say, smiling. "I think it's nice."

"You do?"

"Yeah," you say. You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down for a quick kiss. "And I'm kind of proud that you're finally mine."

"Finally?" he asks, a smile tugging at his mouth.

"Well, yeah," you say. You press a kiss to his throat, right above his pulse, and his chest rumbles with a contented hum. "I've been interested in you since day one."

"Really?"

"You're kind of hard to resist," you admit, and he huffs out a soft laugh.

"Trust me, the feeling is mutual."

"Well, I'm glad you're not fighting it anymore."

"Me too," he murmurs. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and he leans down and brushes his lips over yours. The kiss is tender, affectionate, and his hand trails over your lower back in a gentle caress.

You pull back, and his forehead dips to rest against yours, his breathing steady.

"Do you wanna watch that holo?" you ask, and he huffs a laugh.

“Sure.”

You grab your datapad and settle onto the bunk, and Echo curls up beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist. His touch is warm and comforting, and the feeling is enough to make your chest ache.

You put on a mindless holodrama, some action flick that's probably more entertaining if you've actually seen the other movies in the series. You don't mind, though. The plot isn't that interesting, and the acting is pretty bad. What really draws your attention is the feel of Echo pressed against your side, the weight of his arm draped over your waist, and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. It's comfortable, and intimate, and just what you both need.

And if, during the holo, Echo's hand starts creeping up your shirt, and his mouth starts tracing the curve of your jaw, well, that's nobody's business but yours.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams

[reidmania]

opposites attract | s. reid

summary; spencer would give the world to be your person, even after you argue that you two are too different.

warnings; fem reader, pining!spencer, lowkey pining!reader, bombshell!reader, rejection, reader is described as confident and more of a black cat, insecurities, doubting, a bad date mentioned, happy ending, spencer lowkey gets frustrated, reader has tattoos.

an; messy and switches perspectives whoopsies. Idk how many words, a lot. Too many.

Two years. That was how long Spencer had been a complete and utter mess. Two years since his brain didn’t quite function the same, he remained intelligent, sure, but god so incomplete. Two years since you started at the BAU, two years since he met you.

You were out of his league. He had decided it the moment he laid eyes on you. You were stunning, absolutely perfect in anyones gaze. You were everything he could ever want and more, not just physically. Your laugh, your voice, the way you spoke to everyone around you, gentle, warm. The way you sat quietly in the corner most days, not because you felt out of place, nor shy, not because you didn’t enjoy being there, but just because no matter where in a room you were, your presence was known. Especially to Spencer.

He tried to pretend that he didn’t fall completely in love with you the first time the two of you ever had a conversation and you spoke to him with a smile, listened to him, he tried to pretend the scent of your perfume didn’t make him lightheaded, and the sight of your tattoo that he only saw on occasion’s didn’t make him wonder if you had more, what made you get it, was there meaning?

Spencer wanted to know everything about you, he wanted to live in your brain and know your every like and dislike, what made you smile a little wider, what made you unable to stop laughing, what your favourite drink was, what colour you liked the most, where your family was from, your middle name.

Spencer would stop the world to know you.

That was impossible to hide, even two years later. He tried, so many times to get your attention, to be the subject of your fascination. It didn’t help that every-time you looked in his direction his skin grew ten temperatures too warm and his head spun.

He tried asking you out, twice. Sort of.

The first time was too subtle, too rambling and hidden in the mix of stutters and hot cheeks, fidgeting hands. Because you were looking at him, with a gaze so intense and caring, patient.

How was he ever suppose to talk when you were looking at him like that? Like there was something that made him worth the gravity the warmth in your eyes held.

“Would you date me?” It was blurted out on a Tuesday afternoon, you were standing beside him as the buzz of the bullpen had calmed down, your gaze was focused on reorganising the files on his desk, his gaze was on you. You were reorganising because you didn’t like the way he had done it, and it had been ‘bugging’ you for weeks.

Spencer loved the way his files were organised, but he loved you more.

It was stupid, he didn’t even mean to say it. It was out of place leaving his lips and he knew it the moment your head turned towards him and a sweet laugh left your lips, not mocking him, god you would never. It was a laugh of shock, confusion, maybe even surprise.

“Are you asking me out?” You asked, raising your eyebrow slightly as you met his eyes. His cheeks heated before he could help it, eyes went wide because he had no idea what he was doing.

“What- I- no.” His voice was an octave higher, a tell sign he was nervous, if you needed any more tell signs between the fidgeting of his hands, his bright pink cheeks and his avoidant gaze. You smiled as you shook your head, looking back at the files on his desk, he watched your hand as your ran your finger along them once they were organised neatly, anyone else he might’ve cringed at the sight, but it was you.

“I don’t think so” You had mumbled in response and Spencer felt the world shift into an imbalance. You said it so casually. He didn’t know if his heart was beating too fast or if it was breaking. You turned your head back to look at him, a frown on your lips when you saw the frown that had snuck its way onto his features before he could even realise.

“Not because you aren’t great. Or attractive. You are — You definitely are. I just think we are too different.” You said. His eyebrows knitted together as he met your eyes. He hated the fact you were frowning, he hated the fact he was frowning. He hated what you had just said, god he loved you.

“Right” he didn’t know what to say.

“Spence” You spoke through a warm huff of laughter, shaking your head as you twisted your body to face him fully, your hip leaning against the desk as you crossed your arms over your chest. He watched your hair fall down the sides of your face, over your shoulders. He wondered if you had changed your shampoo since the last time, the only time you had hugged him a few weeks ago, when he had gotten the chance to breath it in, and then it was all he thought about for weeks.

You smiled at him and it was contagious, despite the ache in his chest and overwhelming sense of illness in his stomach, you were smiling. “I think you’re amazing, i always have” you started and his cheeks warmed more. “But we are complete opposite’s.”

He wanted to argue you. Say that he could change and be more like you, more like the guys he had seen pick you up after work, he could be whatever you wanted. He could be someone. Someone to you.

But he didn’t.

That was the last time Spencer had attempted to ask you out, you never bought it up. You never questioned it again, you didn’t push you ask why he wanted to know. Spencer remained sickeningly in love with everything about you, you remained pretending to not notice.

Why were you here? You couldn’t quite remember or find the time to think about it properly between the noise surrounding the fancy restaurant you were in and the sickening long rant the boy in front of you was going on. Something about a business, something about saving it, something egotistical and sickeningly boring.

The date starts out fine. It’s all small talk at first—work, hobbies, the usual pleasantries. But soon, you realize that Mark has a lot to say. About himself. A lot.

“And then I closed the deal,” he says, recounting some work story about how he single-handedly saved his company from financial ruin. He leans back in his chair, smiling like he’s just told you the most fascinating thing in the world. You nod politely, but your mind starts to wander. His voice fades into the background as you think about something else, someone else.

Spencer.

You wonder what he’s doing right now. Probably at home, curled up with a book, or maybe he’s watching a documentary. You can almost picture him, pacing around his apartment, muttering facts to himself about some obscure topic that no one but him finds interesting. But you love that about him. He’s so passionate about everything, even the things that most people would overlook. And he’s never trying to show off. He just loves sharing what he knows.

You try to pay attention to the guy in front of you, you really really do. But god he is so boring. You wonder how quickly you could get one of your friends to come save you from this horror of a date. You wonder how long you would have to hide in the bathroom for before he disappeared.

Mark’s voice pulls you back to reality. “So, what do you think?” he asks.

“Hmm?” You blink, realizing you’ve missed the last five minutes of whatever he was talking about.

“I was saying,” he repeats, a little slower this time, “I just think it’s amazing how people like me can juggle so many things at once. Don’t you think?”

You smile, but it’s strained. “Sure, that’s impressive.”

As the date drags on, you start to notice little things. Like the way Mark talks to the waiter, snapping his fingers for attention, barely looking up from his phone when the waiter brings the food. He doesn’t say thank you. Not once. It’s subtle, but it grates on you. You find yourself cringing, wondering if anyone else notices.

He was much more interesting when he asked you out a few nights ago at a bar, when you were drunk. Why had you agreed? Maybe drunk you saw something sober you didn’t. Or maybe drunk you just saw a male who was conventionally attractive and made you laugh. You wondered how low the bar was

You didn’t have a lot of time to wonder before you heard your name from behind you, your head spun and you almost cried with gratefulness when you saw Penelope standing there, a wide grin on her face, and then Spencer standing beside her, he offered you a gentle shy wave that made your heart warm.

“Oh my gosh! Do you guys want to come sit?” You asked, praying they said yes, praying that Penelope noticed the wide urgent look in your eyes and understood that you were begging. You were genuinely begging for a conversation about anything other than Mark’s biggest accomplishments.

“Oh- We don’t want to interrupt.” Spencer mumbled, looking between you and Mark, the two of you sitting opposite sides of the booth you were in. You noticed the look in Spencer’s eye, you knew what it was. He didn’t want to sit there while you were on a date with someone else. Clearly he misread the urgency in your gaze.

“No! Mark doesn’t mind? Do you mind Mark?” You asked, spinning your head around to face Mark who was confused on the two people and why they were talking to you. Why they had interrupted him. You had to hold back the urge to roll your eyes.

“Uh..” he started, you cut him off. “He doesn’t mind. Come sit.” You shuffled over to make room for the two.

Penelope slides into the booth beside you, while Spencer takes the seat across from you, next to Mark. He looks nervous, his fingers tapping against the edge of the table, but he offers you a small, shy smile.

“What are you guys doing here?” you ask, trying to suppress the excitement bubbling up inside you.

“Oh, we were just nearby, and I figured we’d grab something to eat,” Penelope says.

Spencer fidgets with his napkin, glancing at you, then back at the table. “I-I was telling Penelope about this, uh, documentary I watched the other night. It’s about the history of the subway system in New York. I think you’d really like it.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

He nods, his eyes lighting up as he starts to explain. “Yeah, it’s fascinating, actually. They had to navigate all these geological challenges, and the engineering behind it is incredible. I know you mentioned once that you’re interested in architecture, and I thought you might appreciate how they designed the stations.”

You stare at him for a moment, surprised. You don’t even remember telling him that you liked architecture, but he did. And now, here he is, rambling about a documentary he thinks you’d enjoy, not because he’s trying to impress you, but because he genuinely thought you’d find it interesting.

Meanwhile, Mark is looking more and more uncomfortable, clearly not enjoying the conversation. He cuts in, talking over Spencer to launch into another story about himself, but you’re barely listening anymore. Instead, you’re watching Spencer, noticing how different he is from Mark. Spencer, who’s always so considerate, who listens more than he talks, who looks at you like you’re the most important person in the room, even when he’s nervous.

And then there’s Mark, who hasn’t asked you a single question all night, who’s rude to the waiter, and who’s more interested in hearing himself talk than getting to know you.

“I think I might head off..” Mark muttered, clearly annoyed at the fact you had not only been interrupted on your date, but also frustrated that you were paying more attention to Spencer than him. You couldn’t care less.

“Oh okay! Have a good night” You smiled, sickeningly nice as he shuffled his way past Spencer to leave the table. He glanced at you once, not saying anything before he walked away.

“He was an asshole!!” Penelope bursts out into laughter the minute Mark was out of earshot, you immediately joined her laughter while Spencer remained quiet, shuffling around on the now empty side of the booth.

“Those are the type of guys you go out with?” He asked, his voice was quiet, almost offended. You wish you understood why when you stopped laughing at met his gaze. You opened your mouth to talk as the tension around the table grew.

“Hey! Don’t judge!” She gasped out, pointing her finger dramatically at Spencer, clearly not noticing his underlying feelings and why he had even said anything, you did. “It’s slim pickings out here!!”

Spencer hummed, tapping his fingers against the table as he avoided meeting your gaze. You frowned slightly. Soon enough the conversation fell back into rhythm, flowing like it did any other time. They ate, you paid since it was your date. Then Penelope left.

You stood outside of the restaurant, looking around the busy streets. “How are you getting home?” Spencer asked, his gaze meeting yours as you tilted your head upwards to look at him, you couldn’t not smile. It was impossible not to smile around Spencer.

“Uh- Walking. I walked. It’s really not far.” You nodded to support your words as you buried your hands inside the warmth of your pockets. You had been in a state since Spencer had gotten there, a state you couldn’t quite explain. Silently lost in thought, a state of confusion? Maybe realisation.

“I’ll walk you home. Its late.” He said it like it was a no brainer. Like it was the most obvious thing for him to do. No date you had ever been on had offered you walk you home.

Every time Spencer speaks, you feel yourself softening, smiling without even realizing it. His nervous energy, the way he fumbles over his words, it’s all so endearing. He’s not trying to prove anything to you. He just wants to share the things he loves with you, and it’s the sweetest thing.

“Okay.” You breathe out the silent agreement before your feet find rhythm next to Spencer’s as you walk down the street, the post lights causing an orange glow across the ground, across his face.

“Theres a study.” Spencer started, his breathe coming out warm against the cold air causing a fog of steam to follow his breath, you watched it for an moment before your eyes flickered to the side of his face, you’re still walking, his gaze doesn’t meet yours.

“That uh— Shows that opposites attract, it’s more of a theory, since scientifically it doesn’t actually work like that — although negatives are attracted to positives if you’re looking at electricity — but uh- People believe that a lot of people are attracted to people opposite them, because each person offers something the other lacks, making the relationship feel more complete.. Majority of relationships that are built off of opposites work better than people who are too similar because theres more of a balance.. its chaotic but, it uh — it works.”

He was nervous. You could tell. Your breath hitched slightly as he spoke, as he brought it up again. Your mind tried to process the overload of information he had mumbled out. You tried to process it.

“So scientifically we wouldn’t work.” You huffed out. He laughed. Genuinely laugh, it was breathy and quiet but genuine and it made your heart warm.

“Technically— but theoretically—”

You cut him off, a rare occurrence, “I thought you were a science guy.” You mumbled.

He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “I think I am just a you guy.”

You didn’t know what to say. It was sweet in a way that your brain couldn’t process. He was going against everything he believed to be correct because he wanted you?

“I thought data and statistics are the most reliable source of information.” You mumbled the response, words he had said, probably months ago. Why were you fighting him on this? Why were you fighting yourself on this? You weren’t sure.

“Sure; most of the time. But they are subjective. Especially when talking about psychologically. Each couple, each set of people — they’re different.” He said, his gaze didn’t meet yours. You pulled your eyes away to focus on the street in front of you. You were getting closer to your house, yet part of you wanted to stay right here.

“You think we could work?” You asked. It was a whisper.

He paused, you could see him nod in your peripheral. “I do. I’d make it work, i’d do anything.” Maybe it came out more desperate than he had intended, you found it sweet.

You found him sweet.

“Spencer” you paused your movements and his stopped with yours. His body turned to face you as you looked up at him. His eyes were pleading, desperate, hoping. It almost made your heart ache at the slight fear in them, that you were going to maybe reject him again.

But you found him sweet.

“Id date you.” You answered the question he had asked maybe months ago now, you didn’t realise until now that you had conveniently stopped outside your house. You turned your head to look at the front door before back at Spencer.

“Can i- uh- Will you- I-“ He stuttered and your heart warmed at his nervous attempt to ask you out.

“Yes.” You answered gently, saving him the hassle. Maybe being different was a good thing. Maybe you could beat the statistics that proved otherwise.

Maybe opposites did attract.

[castiwls]

bed chem .ᐟ

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'i bet we'd have really good bed chem'

Requested; anon

Notes; requests are open again!

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

It wasn’t often you found yourself drawn to a stranger sitting in the bar on a random Tuesday night. Normally the patrons of your local bar were your father's age and tended to come simply to chat up the bartenders and start fights over who won at pool. 

Yet today it was different.

You’d noticed him almost immediately and it seemed he’d noticed you as well as in record time you’d found yourself tucked away in a back corner laughing at whatever joke fell from his mouth. One-night stands had never been a good idea - one too many awkward next mornings had all but made the whole idea lose its charm.

Yet sitting her now? You’d never been more ready for an awkward morning in your life.

You’d never understood what your friends had meant when they spoke about instant sexual attraction. How they could look at a guy and just know yet right in this moment you finally understood.

“You can’t be serious?” You laughed, taking a sip from your drink as the stranger - who you now knew as Dean - simply grinned and nodded his head. “As serious as I can be sweetheart.” He shot you a wink before finishing his own drink and placing the glass down with a quiet ‘click.’

He watched you for a moment, his green eyes shining under the dim lights of the bar. His eyes seemed to ravish you almost as his gaze slowly raked over your face, a slight flutter settling in his stomach.

“So, what brings you to this fine establishment on a tuesday night? I’m sure there is more… interesting places for a woman like you.” He raised an eyebrow, a smile which could only be described as charming growing on his lips as he watched you blush slightly.

Seeming satisfied with himself he slowly crept a hand across the small table, his fingers brushing yours where they were still wrapped around your glass. Your own heart was thundering in your chest as his touch seemed to light your skin on fire. 

Your own eyes watched his hand for a moment before clearing your throat. “Small town. Not many options.” A small hum left him as his other hand tapped the table for a moment. “Tight nit.” Dean nodded looking over to the barman for a moment.

The man sent him a guarded look as he watched you both closely while cleaning a glass. “Not everyone's as welcoming as you.”

Nodding you shifted in your seat. “Small town you know. Everyone knows everyone…we’re all pretty close.” 

Dean looked back to you, his smile returning. “Your friend at the bar looks about ready to chop my head off.” His smile slowly slipped into a smirk as an idea lit up in his head. The bar tender had been giving him shit all night - all day actually but you didn’t know that. 

He was more then sure that he was the guy they were looking for but you seemed far more interesting. This could be a win win almost for him, he’d get the girl and also maybe provoke the guy into acting to prove that he actually was who they were looking for.

A quiet laugh left you. The sound was music to his ears almost as he watched your eyes crinkle. “Coles harmless he’s just…protective.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

You hummed quietly raising the glass back to your lips but Dean’s hand stopped you. His own hand wrapped around yours, bringing the glass back down to the table before leaning closer, his knees brushing yours.

Was this actually happening?

His hand reached out to push a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

“Are you trying to sweet talk me?”

“Is it working?” He grinned, his eyes lingering on your lips.

Shifting you lent closer, your faces only inches apart. “You have a car?” 

The words seemed almost foreign on your tongue. The drink giving you a confidence you’d never had before. 

But something inside you was screaming that this was the right thing to do. 

Dean’s own eyes widened before he cast a look at the door. “I like your thinking.” 

[moonstruckme]

Idk if you’re still taking requests for your bake sale (which is the cutest idea btw) but if you are… apple pie, prompt number 31 with Steve? (three people sat on a two-seater sofa)

I was! This probably wasn't what you had in mind but I thought it would be silly so here you go :)

cw: alcohol

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 693 words

“Stay still.” Steve’s voice is low, a smile teasing his lips. “I’ve almost got it.” 

You roll your eyes at him, but your own smile is just as poorly repressed. You still love it when he flirts with you. Even when you’re at one of his friend-of-a-friend’s parties where everyone wants to talk with him, Steve only has eyes for you. 

“I don’t know how you missed it the first three times.” 

“Does it seem like I’m fucking around? It’s tricky, babe.” 

“Seems like you might be fucking around a little bit…” you tease.

Steve swipes at something under your eye. “Got it. What’d I tell you?” 

You beam at him. “Okay, I take it back. My hero.” 

His grin widens, but he squints at your face. “Yeah, except now you’ve got makeup on your cheek. Sorry.” 

“Really.” You frown, wiping at where he’d touched with your finger. It must have smeared your mascara. “Can you get it off?” 

“Yeah, just a sec, you’ve gotta make a wish first.” Steve holds up his finger in front of you, your eyelash balanced on its tip. 

You roll your eyes again, but neither of you are buying that you’re anything other than totally besotted with him. You inhale, holding your wish in your head. 

You blow the lash harder than you mean to when you’re jostled from behind. 

Steve frowns over your shoulder. The guy behind you has found a new and innovative way to make out with his girlfriend, him leaning over the edge of the couch and her on the beanbag below. The two of them set up camp long after you and Steve had been sitting on this couch, and the limited space means he occasionally bumps you in his enthusiasm. 

“We should move,” Steve says, not for the first time. 

“No way,” you reply again. “We were here first.” 

“This couch wasn’t made for three people.” 

You huff, irritated. “Yeah, but all the other seating is taken.” 

“I’ll get us a nice patch of carpet,” he bargains. “We’ll treat it like a picnic.” 

You shake your head. You know you’re being stupid, but it’s the principle of the thing. You want the guy who’d squeezed onto your couch to have to share it with you. “It’s not fair that we have to be the ones to move,” you say. 

Steve sighs, but his expression is fond. “Fine. At least swap places with me.” 

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Your funeral,” you say, but you scoot into the spot he leaves vacant when he stands.

Steve presents a stronger front than you had, sitting up instead of leaning away from where the other guy is infringing upon his space. 

“Alright, c’mere,” he says, reaching for you. “Let me get your makeup.” 

You lean forward happily. Steve uses the condensation from his beer to wet his thumb, rubbing at your cheek concentratedly. It’s then that your couch companion chooses to sit up. Evidently, he really had forgotten he was sharing the couch with two other people, because he knocks right into Steve, causing your boyfriend to lurch forward and for a bit of his beer to spout over the lip of the bottle and into your laps. 

You press a hand over your mouth, laughing, while Steve expels an incredulous breath. 

The guy looks back as though surprised to find him there. “Sorry, man.” He claps a hand on Steve’s shoulder, wandering off. 

“Quick,” you urge, “scoot back!” 

When Steve doesn’t move fast enough, you get up and move behind him, taking up the other side of the couch and stretching out your legs so there’s no space for anyone else. 

“What an ass.” Steve still looks in shock. 

“At least we held down the fort,” you say gleefully. “We won in the end.” 

“We won?” He laughs. “You’ve got beer on your pants, baby.” 

You shrug, ignoring the cold on your legs. “A small price to pay for victory.” 

Steve huffs, but he’s grinning, crawling across the couch to meet you. “You are so—” he kisses you firmly “—stubborn.” 

“Mhm, yeah. Now get back in your place before somebody takes it.” 

[whimsyfinny]

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader, eventual smut

Warnings: language, mention of drugs

Chapter Word Count: 2330

—-MDNI—-

A/N: wooooop new series! I'm trying something new with this one! As a mom myself I loooove reading mom!reader fics, so I wanted to write my own. It's a slightly shorter first chapter, but the following ones should be longer. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, reading your comments makes my day ❤️ and of course, this is proofread only by myself so pls pls let me know of any errors! I really hope you enjoy it. I also didn’t write this at 2am for once so brownie points to me hahaha

Photos from Pinterest

——————————————————————

Chapter 1

“Come on, (Y/n)! You have to tell me all about it! What was he like? Did you kiss? Hold hands? Where did he take you?”

I couldn’t help but smile at the rapidfire questions spewing from Kats mouth. Kat, the stunner sat opposite me with perfect dark skin and the inability to have a bad hair day, was my closest friend. We lived on the same street, drank at the same bar and both hated this small, slightly judgemental town equally. We bonded over the similarities in our lives - like both of us having fallen pregnant at a young age and being dealt the hand of having to raise our kids as single parents. Life was fucking hard sometimes (well, nearly all the time), but my son, Levi, and Kat, made this life worth living.

“Jesus Christ, ok! The date was ok.”

“Uh oh. ‘Ok’? That means it was awful, right?” she raised an eyebrow.

I took a gulp of my coffee.

“The date was ok. But he was…. Seriously not my type. He was too…perfect?” I winced as the words left my mouth, fully aware of how utterly ridiculous that sounded.

“Girl, ‘too perfect’? What the fuck kind of excuse is that?” Kat snorted slightly into her latte.

“I know, I know. But he reminded me of a Ken doll, ya’know? With his white jeans and his Armani sweater over his shoulders - that’s not really… me. The dude gets more manicures than I do. Plus he drives a Fiat Panda. Levi wouldn’t be caught dead getting in and out of one of those.”

“You can’t use your sons taste in cars to dictate the men in your life. That’s a low blow and you know it.”

“Ok then, you go out with Robert and tell me about all the kale facts that you never wanted to learn.” I leant back on the couch, clutching my coffee with both hands to bring some warmth to my fingertips. Kat did the same opposite me, leaning back in the plush armchair as we both took a second to glance out of the large café windows. This was our happy place, right here. It was the place we would come to when we first met and the boys were still in diapers. It was our happy place for the last nine years, and we would come here for every situation: be it a breakup, a catch-up, to discuss terrible sexual encounters or dire situations that need insane back-up plans. But we mostly came here to people-watch. Being the young, single moms that we were, we were constantly under the scrutiny of the small town, having every decision judged by the perfect Jeep-driving soccer moms and the old ladies from church. When we came here, to sit by this window in these comfy-as-fuck couches, it was our turn to do a little judging.

“Vicki Priestley isn't fooling anyone with those sunglasses,” I said, taking another sip of coffee as I watched the thin peroxide blonde across the street repeatedly wipe her nose with the back of her hand.

“Right? We get shunned for…well… fuck all, yet that Paris wannabe can snort coke on a Tuesday school run and everyone turns a blind eye? What a joke.”

“Amen to that,” we watched her for a few more seconds as she climbed behind the wheel of some monstrous four by four and sped off down the road.

“Did you hear that Mrs. Harris caught Mr. Harris with a young mistress? Apparently she works at the bank.”

“Oh my GOD yes I heard!” Kat exclaimed, leaning forward, “and as revenge she put Nair in his shampoo - he's completely hairless, even his eyebrows are gone.”

We both snickered as we raised our mugs.

“To Mrs. H for taking no shit.”

Conversation flowed as topics ranged from the new dessert parlour that opened last week down the road to the extortionate price of kids' Motocross gear.

“I mean the bikes are so tiny, why do they have to cost that much?”

“You're preaching to the choir babes, Toby just outgrew his boots for the third time this year,” Kat grimaced at the thought of how much money she'd spent already.

“Ouch, they're like what? Eighty bucks a pair?”

“Yup.”

“Yeah well, I had to get Levi a new helmet after that little dickhead from the tournament last month crashed into the side of him. That boy was more upset about the stickers he lost than the bruises he got,” I shook my head with a smile on my lips. Kat did the same.

“That's a tough kid you've got there.”

I sighed.

“Yeah I know. Despite never having met him, he's so much like his dad. It's a little concerning actually,” I laughed nervously, instantly regretting bringing up Levi’s father in front of Kat. I glanced up at her, taking a sip of my coffee in an attempt to hide behind the mug. The wiggling of her eyebrows being an indicator of her impending wrath.

“That man is the reason why you’re never satisfied with your dates. He set that bar waaaay too high.”

I scoffed. “He did not. We were young and he just swept me off my feet a bit, that’s all; with that ‘give ‘em Hell’ attitude and handsome face. Plus he had a great car.”

“Last time you said his face was ‘gorgeous’,” Kat cupped her face and fluttered her eyelashes, puckering her lips. I threw a sugar packet at her which she batted right back at me.

There was a moment of quiet as we both looked out the window again, my mind unable to stop itself from racing through old memories.

“Do you think he’ll ever come calling?” Kat asked, some sincerity to her tone. I sighed and slumped back further on the couch.

“I highly doubt it. He doesn’t even know that Levi exists. I tried calling him a few years back but some guy John W. had that number instead. I gave up after that. Plus, he had this kinda dangerous job, and normally if he showed up it was because something was going to go down,” I paused, looking into the dark liquid in my cup, “It’s probably a good thing that he hasn’t just shown up.”

“You say that, but you still have that photo you took together on your vanity.”

I shot her a look, pursing my lips and pinching my brows as she laughed, knowing she'd stumped me there. I quickly downed my coffee and checked my watch before standing and grabbing my bag.

“Come on, let's stop interrogating me and go pick up the boys before all Hell breaks loose at the track.”

“Mom it wasn't my fault, I swear.”

I slammed the car door closed and turned to the boy who stood close enough to be my shadow.

I turned around to face him with a stern expression, “so you did do it? After I called that boys mom a liar? LEVI.”

Levi, my son, looked close to tears, his bottom lip trembling.

“Mom, I'm so sorry! I'll never do it again!”

I narrowed my eyes at him before sighing, already exasperated, throwing the car keys into my bag.

“Did you at least stick to the golden rule?”

His answer was a vigorous nod, the tremble in his lip disappearing.

“‘Never throw the first punch; throw the second and finish the fight,’” he recited the words like a prayer.

“And…?”

“‘Always claim self defence.’”

I smiled and ruffled his soft brown hair.

“Good boy. What started the fight anyway?” I asked, guiding him to walk through the parking lot towards that new dessert parlour.

“He said I was weird for not having a dad.”

I looked down at him, eyes softening and I lifted a hand to rub his shoulder. It wasn't the first time he'd had this argument, and it likely won't be the last. Kids can be assholes. “And then he hit me when I said ‘at least my mom's boobs are real.’”

“Levi!” I stopped in my tracks and looked at him, mortified. I didn't even know where to start with that one. “Where-”

“Jamie from math class told me what ‘implants’ were… and he said that Brad's mom had them.”

He looked up at me innocently, and I knew then that he didn't fully grasp what he'd said to Brad - the kid he'd just punched between the eyes. I sighed for the umpteenth time and started walking again.

“Whatever, just… don't say that to anyone again, ok? You're gonna make me look like a terrible parent.”

“Ok mo- whoa! Look at that car!” It was Levi's turn to stop dead in his tracks as he stood in awe of the sleek black car parked by the sidewalk.

A black Chevy Impala.

“Oh wow,” my words came out slightly breathless, my mind suddenly racing to him and the conversation I'd had with Kat earlier that afternoon.

“So cool!” Levi gushed, walking up close to it but not close enough to touch.

“Yes, very cool. Now let's go inside before they run out of ice cream,” I ushered him to the door, reflexively looking over my shoulder, not knowing if I even wanted to see who could possibly be in the area.

The bell jingled as we walked in and Levi ran up to the counter, pressing his forehead to the glass. My eyes scanned the menu and I was pleasantly surprised to see they served coffee.

“What do you fancy kiddo?” I ruffled his hair again and waited for him to decide, and it wasn't long before he'd made up his mind. After ordering, we headed towards a small table-for-two at the edge of the room, and as Levi slumped down in his chair something familiar caught my attention.

A voice.

My heart quickly became erratic in my chest and my palms grew sweaty. I looked in the direction the voice had come from and was met with a slap in the face from memory lane.

There he was; the same wicked grin and mischievous eyes that had burned themselves into my memory. He dressed the same as he did nine years ago - right down to the necklace and leather jacket. He was engrossed in a conversation with another man, who looked slightly younger than himself, all whilst digging into a stack of waffles.

“Mom?”

The sound of Levi's voice snapped me out of the stunned fog I was caught up in and I quickly sat down, trying my best to focus on my son and not the man who was sitting only a few feet behind him. Levi looked like he was about to ask another question when a giant chocolate sundae and a coffee appeared at the table. I heard the waitress challenge Levi to finish the whole thing, but it was like I was listening to the world through water. My mind wouldn't stop racing. He's here. Do I talk to him? Will he remember me? Do I tell him about Levi? I hurriedly pulled my phone from my bag and sent her a hasty message before turning back to the boy in front of me, convincing a smile to appear on my lips.

“If you have room in that black-hole stomach of yours then you definitely could've finished your veggies earlier at dinner.”

He smirked slightly, like he always did when he knew he was getting away with murder, and it almost took my breath away. I saw the same smirk grace the lips of the man in the booth behind him. The mans gaze shifted to the side and when his eyes met mine - the same vibrant twists of green and gold that I have tattooed on my memory - I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart leaping in my chest as I tore my eyes away. I clutched my coffee cup, staring intently at the dark swirling liquid, praying to anyone or anything that I'd find the answers to my troubles in the bottom of this mug. The prickling on my skin was unshakable, like his eyes were on me and I was trapped under his intense observation, unable to breath. Minutes felt like hours, and eventually he and his companion stood before heading to the door. The moment they were gone with the bell signalling their departure, the air gushed from my lungs as I dropped my head into my hands, earning myself a confused look from my son. I offered him a reassuring smile which he accepted before returning to shovelling ice-cream into his face.

Just when I thought I was safe, I looked up and locked eyes with him. Our eyes locked through the window just as he opened the car door, leaning on it. It was like time froze, and for a few moments, despite my earlier urgency to not make eye contact, I was now unable to look away. My breath caught in my throat as a smirk pulled at his lips before he ducked down into the driver's seat, slamming the car door closed. I found myself chewing on my bottom lip as he tore out of the parking lol, that familiar rumble of the engine practically rattling the windows and, despite the noise, it was a comforting sound.

Once they were out of sight and the impala could no longer be heard, I sighed, pushing my hair off my face and running my hands through my hair. As Levi polished off the last of his ice-cream, my phone buzzed on the table. Opening it and reading the message, a small wave of relief washed over me as Kat confirmed that Toby would be at his dad's for once so she could come over to drink wine and discuss very important topics. She hasn't got a clue what I need to vent about yet, but I feel like tonight is going to be a very long night.

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