#and they BOTH were straight up like we’re not worried

[chlmtsdoll]

hear me out

reader and girl friends dancing and drinking at a nightclub after work when one of the girls says something like "holy shit, look at those two, they're hot"

when reader turns to look, she sees Patrick and Art laughing and having fun together

"i want the brunette one", one says, "are you crazy? look at the blonde, how hot he is", another responds.

"fifty bucks for whoever gets both"

reader smiles. it's showtime.

OH? IT’S GIVING SATC 🤭

This was supposed to be short but I got carried away I’m afraid ! 🎀 | 18 + smut, p in v unprotected sex, oral (m) receiving, heavy obnoxious flirting, kinda messy reader

When the club had been this crowded with a full dance floor and beautiful men nearly everywhere you looked, finally letting loose after a long work week with your girls was enough motivation to get the confidence pumping between the three of you.

Your friends were frozen. Facing the the bar area where this six foot blonde and brunette were standing, laughing like everything around them was funny. One had an infectious grin, hair untamed and a tight dark skirt that show cased his brooding arms. He was the tallest and had ‘a party girls wet dream’ written all over him. The other slightly more polished, could pass for the stereotypical Ken doll type with his charming smile, sterling blue eyes with golden locks combination. You couldn’t find why he would be here, he looked like the only interested in finding a wife type.

Either way, the two men had your thighs pushing against one another the second the girls began chattering about. And once you heard ‘fifty bucks for whoever can get both’ your ears were all game.

“Oh, I am so in. That brunette is scorching.”

“And ? Look at that blondes jawline, bitch.”

“Double the pay if they both finish.” You announce. Both of your girlfriend’s locks go up in the air as they whip around to see the smirk pulling at your lips. They quickly take upon one of their own as well.

“Oh… the competition just got serious.” One of them says.

“It’s been serious. Those guys are totally loaded..” The other comments.

Your eyebrow dips. “What makes you think that ?”

“Oh come on, what two guys that hot are going to come to the club and not be looking to spend their cash on a girl ?”

Her theory wasn’t too out of range. There was something quite different from the boys across from you all. Setting them apart from the other clueless guys around just trying to get as drunk as they possibly can. There was a more tamed and calculated aura to these two. Something that made them not only sexy, but stand out profoundly.

“..or, they could just be gay.” The other girl replies casually and the three of you burst into laughter.

“Oh my god, shut up!”

You giggle, slightly rolling your eyes to land on the two men occasionally eyeing the dance floor as if they’re considering joining in the crowd. And that’s when you caught the gaze of the one with the darker head of hair, he flashed you a smile that sent a thrill straight to your core. You tried not to blush so terribly your friends would be on to you and raise the stakes.

But you couldn't help but ponder if they’d been right too — not about the gay thing, but if they truly we’re packing bills.

And soon you found yourself worrying less about what was in you and your friends wallets, and whatever was in theirs.

“Okay. Let’s get in there. Game on.”

You and your girls were heading over to the bar, tight mini skirts and all with just the right amount of cleavage on display for your upcoming play date. And with hardly any nerves that you’d loose to the two, knowing you had it locked in with the way you just got checked out hard from the brunette all the way across the bar had your hopes high.

As you all were now getting ready to own that bar area, you let your friends have a try at playing with the men first — and it was certainly quite amusing to watch them try to flirt with both the blonde and brunette at the same time.

With fingers twirling in their hair, laughing a little too hysterically at whatever was said and trying to keep both of their attention, you wondered from observation if it crossed them that it wasn’t as easy as they’d think. One of the boys was either off staring at another cute girl or just looking for a drink when your friends hadn’t been trying to sweet talk them into a little more fun. The most they got was a couple flattering laughs from the two.. and you couldn’t help but chuckle yourself, their game play was adorable.

But they failed where you knew best. Multitasking.

So when it was your turn to get your head in the game, one of your friends walking past you in defeat from her attempt whispered, “totally gay.” in your ear post her rejection from the charming boys. You tried not to laugh in her face but you did crack and grin.

You were up next. And you wasted no time going in.

You played it all out in your head within a few minutes of taking note of the two and also of course where your friends lacked. It would be an easy job especially since you spent your week trying to sell to people at work. You knew charm like the back of your hand — soon enough you’d be making out with these guys in the back of the club in no time.

Hips swayed without any real effort as you found where the brunette had been standing nearby the vault of vodka and steely liquor at the bar. Purposefully leaning against the counter and close enough to his side for him to hear you call to get one of the bartenders attention, “Um- - could I get another drink ??” You attempted. But with it being rush hour, they'd all been too occupied.

And that’s when your plan started to make the magic happen.

The towering man beside you glanced over his shoulder at your presence, noticing you weren’t getting any luck with the attention of the bartenders and he inspected your soft and sweetened voice pretty quickly. But also with just how edible he thought you were from earlier, “what do you want, doll face ?” he turned to face you with a grin that was as overwhelmingly striking as they come. It could have made any girl want to drop her panties at the sight. And his voice sounded as if he knew that he absolutely could, “it’s packed in here, yeah ? I’ll get someone for you.”

If it wasn’t for your determination, you would have erupted into a melted pile on the ground after he winked down at you. “Oh- no, it’s fine. I’m sure my friends annoyed you enough.” You laughed lightly and he joined along with you.

“Nah, they’re cute girls… but I gotta admit, I was kinda hopin’ you’d be the one to come over and annoy me a little bit.” His eyes focused on the way your lips curled up into a swayed smile and your face was flustered quicker than the flashing lights on the ceiling. He could be bluffing. And he probably was. Even though that was supposed to be your job here — it was totally working.

You titter, “..really ?”

“Really.”

“Well than, I guess I stumbled into the right spot.” (You wanted to pat yourself on the back. You’d been farther ahead than you even assumed.) “What do they call you ?”

“Patrick, a hell of a fun time, Zweig. Your pick.” his tongue darted out to wet his lips before he took a swing of his drink, and you were all laugher as his green eyes followed you from over the rim.

This was when you could implement the gorgeous blonde to his right — eyeing off to a couple of girls on the floor. With your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, you step a little closer to Patrick, glance going from him to other handsome work of art beside. The space getting less and less personal between you two didn’t scare him either.

“Well, Patrick… who’s your friend- - ?” Your eyes darted to where he stood and the brunette hit his poor friend in the chest to get his attention on you, when he did, you noticed the uniqueness of his eyes up close. You could of seen it from across the bar — but this is another level. Some kind of otherworldly matter, it got you choked up for a moment.

He was about to make you bank.

“This is Art.”

Of course it is.

Your were trying not to drool as you took a little too long to examine the way Art leaned up with a miniature straw pressed against his pretty lips with a soft sideways smirk,

“I think he’s a cutie..” You sputter as you bit your lip with a cheeky smile. Trying not to get lost in Arts gaze — you had to remember the goal, get your head in the game to why you’d walked over here in the first damn place.

“I think you’re both pretty cute..”

“Yeah?” Patrick chuckled and grinned at his friend, they looked at each other like it had been some hidden kind of communication. Like they already knew what the other was trying to say telepathically. That was a signal to you that this was for sure a package deal — you’d have both of them tonight. Not only did they welcome it, but they’d probably been here for that exact motive.

Art gave you a little smile, “We had our eye on you the whole night honestly, so that’s good to know…”

There it is.

You laughed a bit and shrugged. Eyes following back to the darker haired one. “So I heard..”

“How come you aren’t out there?” Art nodded to the dance floor full of bodies, his eyes ran over you, “you’re a stunning girl.. no way none of these guys asked you to dance.”

You hoped to god you weren’t getting flustered. They’re just boys. Ones that you needed to be bedded by till the sun came up, but still.

“I’m- uh.. a bit shy.” (You weren’t. You had your fair share of men in and out of your apartment. Not as stunning as Art and Patrick although, so making them feel extra special wasn’t too much of a stretched truth.) “so it’s rare I even talk to guys.. but you two- - I just had to say something.” You giggled and they were leaning into your laughter with their own. You could swear you smelled Burberry cologne being sent your way from one of them, if not both. Maybe your friends had been right about the wealth.

Art and Patricks attention had been solidly on you. And you didn’t know if it was the way you decided to style your hair tonight, and the way you made sure to keep lustful but sweet eyes between them, or if your friends just sucked at flirting. But you were already yearning to keep this going.

It was time to throw them a curve to lock in their undivided for the rest of the night.

“Well- - I should get back to my friends, they probably think it’s way odd of me to even be over here..” you tittered with a soft goodbye smile as you began to turn away from the men and before you could even step away from the countertop, “wait!” was being called your way from over your shoulder.

A smirk was ridden on your lips once again. You turned back to face their pitch with curiosity.

“Stay a little longer?” Patrick asked of you with a beam.

“Yeah, let us buy you a drink.. what are you? An espresso?”

“No. Man, she’s a cosmo girl, trust me. You are- - aren’t you?” When the brunette corrected his friend, blue and green orbs focused on your answer in desperation you’d keep them a little more company. And you couldn’t help your decisive but giddy expression that was all too pleased with your work here.

“I am actually, yes.” You chuckled before taking a stand between the two tall and handsome men with much more than a quick fuck and collecting your rewards on your mind now. You actually sort of liked them. And that was rare with any man you’d meet doing an activity like clubbing, especially two of them.

As time went on, Art and Patrick were racking up on buying you drink after drink. As many as you wanted. Within as little as an hour that passed, you’d been with the two boys as if you’d known them your entire life. It could have been borderline love bombing with how fast you went from zero to a hundred. Both men simultaneously wrapping their arms around you from behind, laughing loudly as you’d been glued between the two of them. Even dancing in ways more than a couple flirts could have gotten you.

The boys were more than happy to keep tipping the bartenders with haughty smirks after getting you sparked up and hanging on their arms of course, even having one too many of their own. The three of you took it to the lounge area and your friends would be somewhere watching in disbelief and slight envy of how quickly you were able to get handsy with Art and Patrick.

You’d been passed back and forth on their laps as you chatted and even snuck a couple kisses by now. Totally giddy off their energy and the liquids they’d been giving you. The way Art had slipped his wallet back into his back pocket after buying you another drink, was a straight turn on to the point you’d been sticking sugary kisses to his neck as he did so with a couple playful bites, the man grinned at your bubbly essence. Your not so careful hands slid up his chest and slung over his shoulders, “Mmm- -You’re the sweet one aren’t you?” You giggle, finger tips run over his jaw and Art bit down on his peachy lip while he held on to your hips nice and easy, yet with a respectful distance. He couldn’t find the words to define the way he’d been enjoying the way you stroked his ego all night long.

“Don’t let him fool you. He’s actually a menace.” Patrick scoffed as he sat man spread in the seat across from you two with a cigarette in hand.

“Fuck off.” His friend defended lightly. It was the way you could tell he enjoyed the playful banter when Patrick poked at him tonight that solidified to you just how close they really were. You thought it was adorable.

“You two really do everything together, huh?” You toyed with Arts now loose collar, casually sipping on something clear with flirtatious eyes, and the man shrugged a bit as he glanced at the brunette across from him who was hiding a sardonic kind of look behind his glass.

“I mean, well- - somethings..” The blonde nodded with a soft smile, but you raised a brow. “Most things.” He corrected, he and Patrick narrowed eyes at one another. You noticed with a devious little hum at the way the blonde had still been holding back. It made your lips turn up with a grin, watching between the two as Art struggled to confess the obvious. “Okay. Yeah- kind of.. everything.” With a flustered look towards the brunette, Arts eyes trailed off with a sort of blush as you leaned into his shoulder. All close to the blue eyed man getting harshly coy now.

“That’s so cute. Like brothers..” you smiled in Patrick’s direction and he immediately let out heavy laughter.

“Not exactly.” The other man grinned. You tilted your head some, and looked at Art again with wonder in your eyes.

“Like.. lovers ?” Your eyes were wide as you focused on the blonde and he shook his head and drowned out his flustered expression with a swing from his glass. Patrick had smirked at your final conclusion, but still, the two gave you not a significant confirmation spite lingering looks and the newfound heat coming from Arts body.

Holy fuck

not just one, but both your friends had been right.

You were already one step ahead with more questions to coax out of the two if a bartender hadn’t interrupted with a new round of shots and your mind was quickly occupied as you ‘ooo’d’ at the tray being set beyond you. Patrick met your gaze and grinned. “Baby, come take one with me,” you were cheerfully being swapped from Arts lap to Patrick’s — bouncing over his way and also grabbing a shot with him.

A quick clink of your glasses filled the air along with your energetic giggles as the man who groped you with firmness in his lap contrast Art, drowned the substance at the same time. Patricks roaming hands were coarse and just as bold as he was when you straddled him after letting the liquor flow down your throat with ease, you wiped your stained lips with the back of your palm.

“Shit.. you took that so well, pretty girl..” Patrick took the glass from your hands, his hooded eyes stayed on you with a smirk. You brushed your fingers over the light stubble to his chin and leaned in close,

“I can take a lot of things pretty well.” You whispered so only he could hear with a smile, you scanned the area proudly as you were very aware of the show you’d been putting up all night. Patrick shifted in his seat with arousal, lips inches away from yours so you went in deep with a kiss.

The man groaned, “Is that so?” He pushed your hips farther into his lap as you’d been lipping off his jaw with a prideful giggle. You were messing with the hem of his shirt as you remembered you still had your own benefit of the deal to seal — getting the boys somewhere you could have your way with them. You came this far, why stop now when you’d been so close to victory?

“Mmhm… want me to show you how?”

Your words were music to the brunettes ears. His eyebrows rose as he watched you lean up with a grin, intertwining your fingers through his knuckles and Patrick stood as you were able to grab Arts attention too. Abruptly stripping him of his seat as well. “oh- - we’re going somewhere else..” the blonde rushed to follow where you’d been leading for a little more privacy. A secluded vip party section that you were a hundred percent not allowed in without a fee — but something about the trespassing turned you on even more. With a finger to your lips, you gave the two a silent “shh” along with your little grin and lustful eyes. They were all in with thrill and eager hands to get on you anyways.

You had gone to the nervously flattered one first. Taking his hands to wrap them around your waist, you stood on your toes to press your lips against his, carefully moving your jaw with Art’s and melting into the dance of it on instant. Your fingertips crawl through his butterscotch tinted curls like you couldn’t get enough. And Art went to a little bit of a risk, he didn’t stop his hands from slipping down to grip your ass beneath your tight skirt.

“Mmm.. easy blondie- -” you giggled with a soft push to his collarbone so he’d been a tad away from you once again, and Art finally let himself breathe with a mumbled curse coming from his lips.

You then made your way to the brunette beside him — but before you could even take your stance, the man pulled you in without a warning. Pressing his broad body against you as he collided his mouth with yours in one swift motion and your whimpers had been an immediate reaction by the way Patrick left sloppy kisses wherever he could. Down your neck, over the top of your chest. You grinned as you eyed the man next to him while Patrick tore into your skin.

You found the vile rising tent in Arts jeans quite cute.

You let your hand trail to where his button began and you undid it as quick as you could with the way Patrick had been holding your body like some kind of rag doll. Art helped you unzip them, and when Patrick had flung you around so your back was flush against his chest, your jaw was unleashed as you squealed.

“You really aren’t shy are you?” His voice was richer than before — full of the whisky and pent up from the foreplay of the last hour making you let out a loose laugh while the man pushed past your messy hair to kiss on your neck.

“I am- - but even the quite ones have our needs.. right, Art?”

The blonde let out a coy chuckle before his blush took over more of his expression and with that you had been hiking up your skirt to tuck your thumbs into the hem of your panties to pull them down your thighs. “Oh, shit.. shit” Art was already softly groaning as you used his undone belt buckle as leverage to get the lacy pair from your feet and he watched with overwhelming interest in the way Patrick caught your drift and started to get his own belt gone faster than you got them into that room.

“Fuck” Patrick, equally aroused, groaned when he had got his hardened dick out of his boxers. Your mind was so clouded from the tension of the way he grabbed on to your clothed breasts behind your top, rummaging to find your sensitive nipples — you were panting from the friction of his throbbing member that was far ready to fuck you senseless, just brushing against your upper thigh. You bit down on your lip hard as you looked up at the finely built man behind you who had a smirk stuck to his face before he toyed at your already slick pussy with his fingers.

“Go on… put it in- -” your drunken mind went fuzzy when the dark haired man started to slide through your walls, your hand went slapping against whatever you could reach in the confined space you’d been in as a full moan escaped you — your eyes fluttered from the way Patrick stretched you open on his cock. Keeping both hands on your hips so you didn’t fall over as your legs already begun to go weak. He didn’t even hesitate to plunge into you with a grunt. “I wasn’t- - even planning on.. fucking you tonight, but fuck, I knew you wanted it.” Patrick groaned out while he snapped his hips against your ass and you turned into a mess of whimpers. You’d been in a slight arch for his entrance, cunt clenching around his length so much so you were sure to turn into a stuttering mess within minutes.

Arts reddened cock was on your mind as he’d been right ahead of you just in reach of your sloppy fuck with the brunette. And as “Oh ! Fuck.. yes, yes” was being thrusted out of you, you still reached out to start stroking him. Art hissed on contact with your warm palms on his shaft like you’d been a pro. And he was gorgeous, eyebrows knitted away as he melted into your heavenly coax of his dick, stiff enough to cum right then just from the voyeurism of it all.

“Baby.. faster- - just like that..” Art groaned before putting a hand on your waist that was being rutted by his friend. You spit on your hand quickly before going back to use it on Art. Your legs were in fact giving out — but the bliss due to the man fucking into you was just too good to let go to waste.

“Patrick..keep fucking me- - mmm.. please, it feels so-so good.” You whine while your wetness sticks to the curve of your inner thighs, you could hear the man’s haughty snicker run through your ears. He was now digging his fingers into your hips, slowing his movements to watching himself pump in and out of your hole with rhythm.

“Hold still, sweet girl.. I’m gonna make you cum- -”

That wasn’t what you needed. But what the heck.

With Patrick pounding a couple cries out of you down the line, he'd been putting his hands roughly in your hair to push you over the ledge as you began to make a mess on his twitching cock. “Mmmh.. f-fuck- yes..!” You couldn’t give a damn at how loud you were being. Your creamy juices were left on the man as he wasted no time to pull out of you and start pumping away at his cock on your backside. Using the wall as a rest with his damp curls stuck to his forehead, he released ropes of his cum on to the dip of your back with a low grunt. By the time he tapped the last few drops on your ass, you had a teasing little hazy smile on your face and Patrick held you up again like used goods.

You got one down. You already knew with a few strokes of your tongue, Art would have that sweet release too. So you got on your knees without a question and attached your generous lips around the blondes member. He closed his eyes to feel the heated wetness of your mouth closing on him. “Oh god,” he panted as you suctioned your lips around his tip. Te naughtiest kind of sounds leaving you while you sucked a climax from Art at the same time. The feeling of his cock down your throat, mixed with the moaning through the moment his cum flows through, made your mouth feel totally full and fucked out. Art cursed at the way you looked so pretty taking him on your knees like this — but he thought you were far too comely to be down there for long, so as soon as you swallowed he helped you rise to your feet with a small stumble, but the man managed to keep you aligned as he grabbed hold of you with a soft grin.

“You’re too good, even drunk. I mean, shit..” Patrick panted as he observed your state. Just like before. Arms flung over Arts shoulders as you leaned into him with flirtatiousness.

“You fuck good.” You eyed him back, your voice was a little too impressed to the brunette, but he was appreciative of the acknowledgement. You had focused on the blonde again, whose chest was against yours, running your finger over his cheek in playfulness with a small giggle.

“And you have to play Ken in me next time..”

He looked down as he just couldn’t help himself but shy away from your compliment. “next time, huh ?” Art questioned with a soft chuckle, You nodded and kept your place temptingly close to the blondes lips. “Well then, we’ve gotta get you home first.”

After Patrick and Art insisted on paying for your Uber back to your apartment, they were also nearly begging for your number as well — and after a few waters to sober up, and a kind hearted snap of your seatbelt from one of the boys, you eventually did give in.

You nearly forgot you had a pay to pick up from your friends at your hangover brunch the next morning, and of course the girls wanted all the details about everything from the previous night while bills were paid to you gladly.

You planned on giving the two hot guys at the bar a handjob and couple kisses at the beginning. But exposing to your friends that you got to cum on Patrick’s cock while you jerked off Art and sealed your deal was an extra bonus as they both ended up being as sweet as they come.

Maybe two boyfriends wouldn’t hurt.

[writingbuckets]

The Hot Take: Part 3

paige bueckers x influencer!reader

wc: 2.8k

a/n: the only i have to say is that i shocked myself with my flirting... enjoy!

**********

After your night at the game, it feels like the internet has exploded. Your mentions are on fire with fans on both sides—some praising your brutal honesty about Paige, others calling you out for downplaying her talent. It’s only natural that you decide to dedicate an entire podcast episode to the experience.

You settle into your recording setup, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves—after all, tonight is a first. Across the table sits Paige Bueckers, cool and composed, though you catch a hint of mischief in her eyes as she adjusts her mic. You take a deep breath and lean in, grinning at your co-host before addressing the audience.

“Welcome back to The Hot Take! And tonight, we’re in for a treat. As you’ve probably guessed, we’ve got a special guest in the studio… the one, the only, Paige Bueckers!” You gesture toward her dramatically, and your co-host plays a quick soundbite of applause and crowd cheers, adding to the show’s theatrics.

Paige laughs, crossing her arms as she glances at you. “The crowd goes wild. I didn’t think you’d actually let me come on here, considering all the things you’ve said about me.”

You shoot her a mock-offended look. “What things? I’m nothing if not fair and unbiased.”

She raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eye. “Oh, totally. Because your comment was so fair and unbiased.”

Your co-host snickers. “Well, Paige, you’re in the right place if you want to get your revenge. Y/N here is known for her ‘brutal honesty.’ But hey, tonight might be a chance for you to change her mind.”

“Is that a challenge?” Paige asks, leaning forward, her gaze never leaving yours.

“Depends. You think you’re up for it?” you reply, meeting her eyes head-on, enjoying the charge of the challenge between you two.

“Oh, I’m always up for a challenge,” she responds smoothly, flashing a grin that has you momentarily caught off guard.

Your co-host breaks the tension with a laugh. “Alright, alright, let’s jump right in. Y/N, you’ve had plenty to say about Paige in the past. Care to share some of those hot takes now that she’s here to defend herself?”

You clear your throat, trying to hide your smirk. “Alright, let’s get one thing straight,” you say, addressing both the mic and Paige. “As much as it pains me to admit this…” You pause dramatically, shooting a look her way. “Bueckers actually impressed me the other night.”

Paige raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Really? I didn’t think you’d ever admit that.”

“I know, it’s shocking, but credit where credit’s due,” you continue. “I mean, you’re quick on the court, you know your angles, and—dare I say it—you know how to work a crowd.”

Paige laughs, eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh, so you were paying attention. Here I was, thinking you came just to judge.”

“Oh, I absolutely came to judge,” you reply, grinning. “But I also got to see you actually back it up with skill. It was… not as overrated as I’d assumed.” You shoot her a wink, and she laughs, shaking her head.

“High praise,” she replies, feigning a look of being overwhelmed. “I didn’t realize tonight was all about showering me with compliments.”

Your co-host jumps in, clearly amused by the dynamic. “Wait, Y/N, are you actually going soft? Compliments? Feeling a little flustered, maybe?”

You shake your head, grinning. “Don’t get it twisted. I’m just saying, maybe I underestimated you.” You turn to Paige. “Don’t let it go to your head, though. I’m not here to just hype you up.”

Paige leans back in her chair, looking entirely at ease. “Don’t worry. I can handle a little constructive criticism. Hit me with your best shot.”

You take the opportunity, leaning forward with a smirk. “Alright, if you insist. Here’s my take: For all that talent, you could be a bit more creative with your moves. Sometimes it feels like you rely on what’s tried and true instead of taking risks.”

She smirks back. “And sometimes critics don’t realize the importance of consistency,” she counters smoothly. “Winning isn’t about impressing people—it’s about doing what works.”

“Touché,” you reply, though you’re secretly impressed by her response. You decide to press a little further. “Alright, so if it’s all about winning, how do you handle the pressure that comes with it? Isn’t there a part of you that wants to switch things up now and then?”

Paige leans forward, crossing her arms on the table. “I get that all the time. But you know, winning takes priority. Switching things up? That’s for off the court.” Her gaze holds yours, and for a second, you wonder if she’s talking about more than just basketball.

Your co-host notices the silent exchange and interrupts with a grin. “Okay, okay, I feel like there’s a whole vibe happening here that I did not sign up for!”

The comment pulls you back, and you laugh, brushing it off. “Nothing happening here,” you insist, stealing a quick glance at Paige.

Paige holds back a smirk, shrugging. “Sure, whatever you say.” But the gleam in her eye says otherwise.

Trying to keep things on track, you steer the conversation back to basketball, although the flirtatious edge remains. “Alright, Bueckers, one more thing. I’ll admit, you’ve got talent. But do you ever worry about being put in a box? People see you a certain way, and that’s how they’ll always see you.”

Paige pauses, and for a moment, the playful banter takes on a serious note. “Yeah, I get that. People think they know you, based on what they see online or on the court. But the truth is, they’re only seeing one side.”

It’s unexpectedly candid, and you nod, finding a bit of yourself in her answer. “Yeah. I get that. People always think they know everything from what they see online, but there’s always more, right?”

Paige’s gaze softens just slightly, and she nods. “Exactly. Sometimes I think it would be nice if people saw more than the ‘player’ version of me.”

You raise an eyebrow, catching the hint in her tone. “So… what would that look like, Bueckers?”

She gives you a playful smirk, leaning back in her chair. “Maybe you’ll find out if you’re lucky.”

Your co-host interjects, clearly amused. “Did I miss something here, or is this turning into a date?”

Both you and Paige laugh, shaking your heads in sync. “Not quite,” you say quickly, though your heart skips a beat.

Before wrapping up, you give Paige the last word. “Alright, Bueckers, we’ve had our fun. Any final words for our listeners?”

She leans toward the mic, glancing at you with a grin. “Only that this isn’t the last time you’ll hear from me, Y/N. I’m sticking around to make sure you don’t underestimate me again.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Well, bring your best game, then. I’ll be ready.”

The episode wraps up with lingering tension and the audience buzzing with intrigue, speculating wildly in the comments and social media. As you both step away from the mics, Paige meets your gaze with a small smile.

“Nice job,” she says, extending a hand.

You shake it, feeling the warmth of her grip, the playful energy still sparking between you. “Likewise, Bueckers. Just don’t expect me to go easy on you next time.”

She gives you a wink. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

**********

Not even an hour after the episode goes live, the reactions flood in. Your notifications blow up with fire emojis, heart-eyes, and endless comments as fans dissect every word, every sly look you exchanged with Paige, and every playful jab you threw her way. People seem to be either thrilled by your shift in tone or mourning the sharper edge of your usual critique. But there’s one thing they all seem to agree on—your chemistry with Paige was undeniable, and they’re dying to see where this dynamic goes next.

Then come the memes: screenshots of you glancing at Paige with a mix of disbelief and amusement, clips from older episodes where you roasted her, and side-by-sides comparing your expressions with Paige’s iconic moments on the court. One of your favorites is a split image of you with an exaggerated, eye-rolling expression, paired with Paige’s confident smirk from one of her highlight games. People are clearly having a field day, and you find yourself chuckling at the creativity as you scroll through the tag.

But just as you’re considering logging off for the night, a notification grabs your attention. It’s a comment from none other than Paige herself.

@PaigeBueckers: “Glad to see you’re finally catching on, Y/N. Game recognizes game, right? 😏”

You smirk, typing back a quick reply.

@notY/N: “Don’t get too comfortable, Bueckers. I’m just warming up. 😏”

Paige responds almost instantly, and suddenly, it’s a back-and-forth on full display for everyone to see.

@PaigeBueckers: “Comfortable? Nah. Just giving you something to talk about on that next episode of yours.”

@notY/N: “Who says you’re interesting enough for a second episode?”

@PaigeBueckers: “Guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong, then. Challenge accepted?”

The thread quickly spirals as fans jump in, hyping up every comment exchange, adding their own captions, and stirring up theories about your “rivalry.” By the time you close the app, #YNPBChallenge is trending, with people eagerly waiting for your next move. And though you won’t admit it, you’re already curious about hers.

Within hours, sports outlets start covering the “feud.” Clips of your episode circulate, paired with screenshots of Paige’s comments. Twitter is filled with fans trying to decode every little interaction, with hashtags like #PaigeAndY/N and #RivalryGoals popping up as the top trends. Some fans eagerly ship you and Paige, while others are taking sides, wanting to see if your critique holds up in future episodes.

Some of Paige’s teammates even get in on the fun, teasing her about the exchanges. Azzi Fudd, in particular, tweets, “So… when’s the first date, @paigebueckers? 👀”

You laugh when you see it, because of course Paige’s friends would be watching the whole thing unfold. You decide to add your own little stir to the pot.

Replying to Azzi’s tweet, you type, “First date? I think she’d need to step up her game a bit first.”

Not even a minute later, Paige replies to you directly: “Challenge accepted.”

The thread is flooded with reactions, and for a moment, it’s as if the entire internet is watching you two flirt in real time. You know it’s all in good fun, but there’s an undeniable thrill to it.

After the whirlwind of social media reactions, you finally step away from your phone, still replaying the day’s events. There’s an undeniable energy to this back-and-forth with Paige. Even through playful jabs and witty comebacks, there’s something deeper simmering—something that leaves you more curious than you’d like to admit.

Just as you’re about to call it a night, a new notification lights up your screen: a direct message from Paige herself. You hesitate for a moment, feeling an odd mix of excitement and nerves, and then finally open it.

Paige: “So… I’m dying to know—did you expect all of this to blow up the way it did?”

Her message catches you off guard. You’d expected something more competitive, maybe another cheeky comment. But this question feels more open, almost as if she’s genuinely curious about your perspective on all this unexpected attention.

Y/N: “Honestly? Not at all. I mean, I’m used to a little backlash, but this? Everyone’s treating it like it’s the story of the year.”

Paige: “Right? It’s kind of insane, but I have to say, you seem to handle it like a pro.”

A smile tugs at your lips. The words are simple enough, but there’s a warmth there, a hint of respect that takes you by surprise. You hadn’t expected Paige to be this down-to-earth.

Y/N: “I guess that’s part of the job, right? You get used to it, even when it’s… unexpected.”

Paige: “Guess we both know what that’s like. I mean, people see us a certain way, but they don’t really get the whole picture.”

Her message resonates with you in a way you hadn’t anticipated. It’s something you’ve thought about often—the assumptions people make, the way fans and critics alike paint you in broad strokes, not really seeing the person underneath. The more you think about it, the more you realize that Paige might understand that better than most.

Y/N: “True. Everyone thinks they know us based on what they see online, but there’s a lot that doesn’t make the highlight reel, right?”

Paige: “Exactly. It’s easy to play a role, keep it simple. But sometimes, it’s nice to just be real with someone who gets it.”

There’s a pause, a subtle weight to her words that makes you wonder if this is just harmless banter, or something more.

Y/N: “So, you’re saying I’m good enough to get the ‘real’ Paige Bueckers?”

Paige: “I’m saying maybe you’re not as overrated as you think you are, Y/N.”

You can’t help but laugh, the slight warmth of her compliment balanced by her usual dose of teasing. But even as the conversation winds down, a part of you can’t shake the feeling that this might be the start of something… different. The back-and-forth, the playful ribbing—it’s beginning to feel like more than just banter.

You let out a soft laugh, staring at the screen a little longer than you meant to, absorbing Paige’s last message. You’d expected a snarky retort, maybe a playful jab, but this? This is something else, something that has you wondering if she’s just as curious as you are. Before you can overthink it, you decide to keep the conversation going.

Y/N: “Alright, I’ll take that as a compliment—coming from someone who’s probably had a lifetime supply of them.”

Paige: “You’d think so, but it’s funny how most of them don’t mean much. I think I’ve just gotten good at smiling and nodding.”

Her honesty catches you off guard. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability, one that’s different from the playful façade you’d seen at the game and in her comments. You find yourself softening, recognizing a piece of yourself in her words.

Y/N: “I get it. People are quick to build you up, but they don’t always see the work behind it. Or the stuff you keep off-camera.”

Paige: “Exactly. Sometimes it feels like it’s just about meeting everyone’s expectations.”

You feel a pang of understanding. Despite the banter, the jabs, you realize there’s a part of her that just wants to be seen for more than the hype, more than the image fans have painted of her. And, you realize, maybe that’s why this little rivalry-turned-conversation feels different than anything you’ve experienced before.

Y/N: “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m here for the real version of you—whatever that looks like.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, and you wonder if you’d gone too far. But just as you’re about to backpedal, her response pops up.

Paige: “Same goes for you, Y/N. Guess that means we’ll have to see what that actually looks like, right?”

Her words make your stomach do an unexpected flip. It’s an invitation, subtle but clear, to get to know her beyond the rivalry, beyond the image. And suddenly, it feels like this whole thing—the online banter, the “feud,” the unexpected DM—has been leading up to this moment.

Y/N: “Guess so. So, next time we bump into each other… coffee? Or are you more of a smoothie person?”

She replies almost instantly.

Paige: "Coffee works, as long as you promise not to trash-talk me in front of the barista."

You laugh, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the banter and everything to do with her openness.

Y/N: “Fine, I’ll tone it down. But don’t get too comfortable—I’m not going easy on you.”

Paige: “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

There’s a pause after that, a comfortable silence that feels like both a beginning and a challenge. As you put your phone down, a smile still on your face, you realize you’re genuinely excited to see where this goes.

[fandoms-in-law]

Ophelia's Son: What Will Grow?

Summary: The kids test what plants grow on Steve's head and a couple of old friends discover his new flowers.

Follows on from Ophelia's Son and Smoking

/\

“Here’s some sunflowers for my Sunflower.” Eddie called, letting himself and the kids that had bugged him for a lift into Steve’s house.

It took a moment for Steve to come to greet them, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “So they told you about wanting to test what grows?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes we did. And we’ve got plenty of other flowers and plants to try as well.” Max agreed, holding her arms out, full of plants and behind her the rest of the kids had them too, except for Dustin who held a notebook and was currently looking over Lucas’s offering of plants.

Steve looked over at them all, hands going to his hips and clearly judging them. “How big do you think my head is? Those are not all going to fit today.” He stated, eyes narrowing when Dustin flipped back a few pages, clearly ready to explain some plan he had, “Eddie’s sunflowers get first priority.”

“That doesn’t make sense! They’re huge! They should go last so we can get as many smaller plants tested as we like.” Dustin immediately argued.

“Eddie, please will you add as many sunflowers as you like?” Steve asked sweetly, turning away from the kids and kneeling so Eddie could add them more easily.

Eddie grinned at him, sticking his tongue out at the chorus of protests the action received. “Thanks Darling. I hope they do grow. They suit you more than daisies.”

“I hope so too.” Steve smiled, although he knew he was probably going to be kneeling or sat on the floor for the rest of the day as Dustin tried to insist on how the kids plants were added while the rest jostled together to ensure all of there are done.

Steve had already decided that no matter what grew he would be forcing Dustin and Max to weed his head later, after deciding which ones that grew could stay.

/\

“The hell is going on with your head, Harrington?” The call had Steve turning from where he’d been reshelving some videos.

Family Video had been mostly quiet that day so he hadn’t worried about going back to the counter after Robin had greeted the last person to come in, but now he saw Carol and Tommy staring at him in confusion. “I think flower crowns are fantastic, don’t you?” He said, certain it was something to do with the plants growing that shocked them.

Carol’s eyebrows shot up, “Sure, they can be cute, but that disaster of a combination? Daisies and sunflowers could work but dandelions? Mint? That looks like fucking parsley. You must have more sense of landscaping than to combine those. It looks like a disaster.” She reached to his hair and was pushing flowers around as she spoke. “Who insulted you by giving you this crown?”

Behind them he could hear Robin start laughing, and smirked back at them, “It was a bit of an experiment. We’re sorting out a better looking crown for next time.”

“Let’s help with that then.” Tommy decided, reaching past Carol to yank at some of the plants.

The action caused Steve’s hand to shoot up, straight past them, and he hummed, wondering if there was a flower that pulling would lead to him punching someone. “They took root. Best not to yank them out unless I want them gone. I said we’re planning a better looking one already.”

Carol blinked rapidly at him, while Tommy scoffed, “You’re that empty headed? I know you were too dumb for college but seriously? Your head is just good for hair and flowers?”

“None of that’s accurate, you know that?” Steve kept his tone mild, partly because it would annoy Tommy more, but mostly to appear as if he was trying to keep their interaction pleasant. “Also, I think you both need to wash your hands like right now.”

“Why?” Carol’s tone was derisive but curious too. “And I’ve only heard gossip of some Addams freaks or their cousins managing what you’re claiming those plants have done.”

Steve shrugged. “There’s some poisons growing in there. I know Dustin mentioned foxglove and belladonna so just to avoid poisoning yourselves when you eat it’s better to wash your hands soon.” He didn’t react to the comment about the Addams family. As curious as he might be over how she’d heard rumours about them he wasn’t in the mood to listen to the level of scorn they would likely be shared with.

Tommy froze, eyes narrowed at Steve’s head for a moment before turning, “Fuck you Harrington. You should have led with wearing poisons.” He called, not waiting to see if Carol followed him as he left.

“If you are somehow connected to the Addams’s, I want to know how their tea is made. It’s meant to be good for smooth skin.” She demanded.

“Haven’t asked, wouldn’t know. Go wash your hands.” Steve dismissed with a cold smile.

She did so with a huff, and Robin was soon to come over, ruffling his flowers. “That’s a lie, right? About the poisons.”

“Yes. El, Max and Dustin had brought them but I insisted on no handling of poisons without gloves and they hadn’t brought those. I think they’ve got plans for a second experiment including them though.” He sighed, frustrated at having his head further messed up by uglier plants. “At least the foxglove has decent flowers, I guess.”

[leahcee]

lord help me once I have children and tell my parents they are NOT allowed to post them on the internet and I don’t care if it’s a private account with only family…like there will be NOTHING and god help me if they try to tell me otherwise

[sparklingchim]

maybe in another universe; m |jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 6.2k

genre: idol!jungkook, angst, childhood friends, exes to lovers?, smut

rating: 18+

warnings: protected sex, making out, groping, fingering, jk is saur in love <3, oc is an overthinker, they're v needy, he loves watching her cum <3, giggly kisses, jk wants to hit it raw so bad 👉🏼👈🏼, one (1) boob squeeze i think, oc scratches his back 🤭

summary: jungkook is tipsy as he wanders the streets of seoul, and still, you're all he can think about.

a/n: it's bestie jk's bday!!! so here's a little fic n i swear i was gonna post smth fluffy but...here we are!!!!! sorry not sorry </3 love u

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

“I need you.”

“What?”

“I miss you so bad.”

“Are you drunk?”

“I love you. So much. It kinda hurts.”

“Jungkook.”

Silence. Except for the faint noises of cars passing by.

You hear a little sigh. “Missed hearing you say my name.”

Your fingers clasp tighter around your phone. “Why’d you call?” It’s 2 a. m., and the only reason you answered is because you were worried. This is the first time he’s called since the breakup.

“Just ‘cause,” he mumbles. You can hear the pout he’s speaking with. “We have a one week break from tour and I came back to Korea. Missed home and Mum, and you.”

“You’re in Busan, then?”

“Seoul.”

He’s here. So close.

You shake your head. Take a steady breath to calm your giddy heart. You shouldn’t care.

“Was at my parents’ for two...three days.” After a short pause, he continues, “Been wanting to talk to you all day long, but I didn’t have enough courage.”

“I mean...” You slump back against the couch, your head falling back. “There isn’t anything for us to talk about.”

“No?” he asks, confused. “I’ve got so much to say, though.”

“I meant, like, we shouldn’t be talking. At all. ‘Cause we’re – we’re done.” You thought you were. You thought you made it clear when you broke up with him.

“Haven’t you missed me at all?” He sounds both accusing and sad, and you think your heart breaks a little. “I think about you constantly,” Jungkook whispers, his confession carrying a soft hopelessness through the phone.

You sit up straight. “How much did you drink?”

“Hmm, not much,” he answers. “I’m not drunk!” he quickly adds. “Just needed some alcohol to have enough courage to call you.”

“You drank because of me?”

“You’ve never done this?”

“I’d like to say it wasn’t because of you.”

“So... you’ve been thinking about me too?” he asks tentatively.

You close your eyes. “Is this a conversation we should be having?”

Jungkook heaves a defeated sigh. With your eyes closed, you can almost picture him standing outside, the chill of the night air mixing with his feelings of loneliness. Maybe he’s pacing, or just staring into the distance, eyes weary with a faint trace of frustration mixed with vulnerability etched on his face.

“You can hang up if you want. I just hoped we could talk a bit. I’ve been – I’ve been feeling lonely and a little sad, and I couldn’t get you out of my head,” he babbles. “I’m sorry if you don’t wanna talk.”

You wish you could be cruel – could be a cynic and just hang up. But you can’t. He is tipsy and emotional, and you still love him too much.

“No, it’s fine.” If only he knew how much you’ve been wanting to hear his voice again. “I didn’t expect a call like this tonight, that’s all,” you add, pulling your legs up to your chest. “Are you on your way home?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there soon.”

“You have the dorm all to yourself?”

“The dorm? Ah, yes, I was the only one to fly back to Korea. The others stayed in the US.”

You hug your knees with one arm.

“Why are you still up so late?” Jungkook asks, as if he isn’t the one roaming around, tipsy and a bit of a heartbroken mess, in the city in the middle of the night. He does all that and yet worries about you.

“I was just eating.” Your eyes drift to the remnants of food in front of you. “And watching a drama.” The big screen is on mute. You hurriedly searched for the remote to turn off the sound once you saw the caller’s name.

“With your mum?”

“No, she’s at the studio. I think she’s finishing up some songs,” you say. Your mum left sometime in the evening, saying she’d had a sudden spark of inspiration and needed to go to the company. You bet she won’t come home until 4 a.m. “I couldn’t sleep and was craving some tteokbokki, so...”

“From the restaurant at Gangnam?”

A soft, hesitant smile blossoms on your face. “They make it the most delicious.”

He mutters a wistful sound. “I haven’t had it in so long.”

Your fingertips gently tap against your knees in a slow rhythm. “You should definitely have it before you leave again.”

“With you?” Just two words and yet they’re filled with so much innocent hope.

Your fingers halt.

“Oh?”

“Would you not want to see me?”

“I’m not sure if we should.”

“But do you want to?” He’s met with silence from your side. “You were one of the reasons I really wanted to come back to Korea.”

“But what if I don’t want to meet up?”

“Then don’t open the door.”

“I don’t...What door?”

“Your door,” he answers conversationally.

You hurriedly scramble to your feet and walk to the door. “You’re here?” The screen on the intercom shows Jungkook, holding up his phone against his ear and patiently waiting.

“You watching me?” Jungkook teases, playfully cocking his head to the side as he stares directly into the camera.

“Oh.” You take shy step back. Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“Open the door for me? Please?”

You don’t think it’s a good idea to let Jungkook in. But his doe eyes. His pleading doe eyes. They do it for you.

You buzz him in and, while you wait for him, you try to calm your racing heart.

When the elevator doors open and Jungkook steps out, you’re struck by the sight of him after months apart. You take in every detail: his tousled hair, his tired but still striking eyes, the way the light catches the contours of his face. He looks so handsome, so achingly familiar. You’re drinking him in with your eyes, unable to believe he’s actually here.

“I thought you were heading to the dorm,” you say as Jungkook steps out of the elevator.

“I didn’t say that.” A pout graces his face.

He said he was heading home.

“I missed you,” Jungkook says, and suddenly you become awfully aware of the situation unfolding before you. You have to blink twice to make sure you’re not just picturing a hologram of Jungkook in your apartment. This time, he is real. Not a figment of your imagination.

“Me too,” you admit with a heavy heart.

A lopsided, sorrowful grin appears on his mouth. “Can’t bring yourself to say it back?”

“Jungkook, you-” You shake your head, sighing as your scramble for words. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

It’s the middle of the night, and upon answering a call from Jungkook, he stands right in front of you – just like in the dreams you secretly have at night when you’re feeling lonely again. It shouldn’t be this easy. It really shouldn’t be this easy for him to say these things and fall back into a natural pattern with you when you’ve been crying yourself to sleep at night, wishing your love for him would die.

And yet, here you are, with dangerous words at the tip of your tongue, barely resisting the intense urge of your heart to scream how much it has been wanting him back.

“But let’s not – let's not just stand here.” You point to the slippers next to him. “Take off your shoes and I’ll...I dunno, put on a movie?” You go back into the living room as Jungkook hangs up his coat and follows you.

“Oh, that looks delicious,” Jungkook exclaims when he spots the leftover tteokbokki on the coffee table.

“I can heat it up for you, if you want,” you offer. Judging by the way his tongue wets his bottom lip, it’s clear he’d appreciate that.

Jungkook trails behind you into the kitchen.

“So, watchu been up to?” He leans his forearms on the counter, watching you from across the island as you put the tteokbokki into the microwave.

He’s been in this kitchen countless times before. He’s made you tea when you were sick, prepared hot chocolate when you needed comfort, and knew exactly where to find the snack stash for movie nights. He’s even prepared breakfast for you and your mum on some mornings. But tonight, he can’t shake the feeling of being a stranger here. The memories of those moments feel distant, like a blurry movie he watched when he was too young to fully remember, leaving him with only a vague sense of familiarity.

“Just, you know, studying, working. The usual.” You turn to him, mimicking his position on the other side of the counter.

“So much on your plate that you couldn’t reply to my messages?”

His gaze is intense and shameless, and you look away.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to reply to messages sent by your ex.” You turn around, leaning your back against the counter. “What am I supposed to text back when you tell me that you miss me?”

“Hey, just last week I asked how you were doing. You could’ve replied to that one.” You can sense the sulkiness in his voice, mingled with a touch of light-heartedness, but you don’t turn to face him.

Jungkook closes the distance between you.

“You don’t want me in your life anymore? Like, at all?”

Your engulfed by his scent as he stands next to you, struggling to form a proper answer as you hesitantly peer into his face.

The microwave dings, and you breathe again.

“When was the last time you had this?” You place the plate in front of him and hand him the chopsticks.

“It’s been a few months. Before the tour started, I was dieting, so, maybe 5 months?” Jungkook doesn’t notice the roll of your eyes when he mentions dieting, his attention focused on the hot tteokbokki between his chopsticks. “Mhmmm.” He closes his eyes tightly, tipping his head back as he tastes the food on his tongue. “So good.”

“Feels good to have a bit of home again before you leave?”

Jungkook nods vigorously, his eyebrows scrunched up as he eats more.

You find yourself smiling, only realising it when Jungkook mirrors your grin. A giddy thrill and a soft ache twist together inside you like a secret exposed to the light. Unable to bear the eye contact, you look away, hiding your smile by biting your bottom lip.

You notice Jungkook offering you a piece of tteokbokki in your peripheral vision. “No, thanks. I’m really full. I had a lot.” You rub your belly.

“You always used to steal bites of mine, even when you were full.”

“I used to steal your dessert. Not dinner,” you correct him. “I can never have enough dessert.” You can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. “But that was when things were... different.”

Jungkook’s playful expression fades slightly. He chews slowly, contemplating your words. “Does it have to be that different?”

The delicate confession that hangs heavily in the air.

The warmth in your chest tightens, and you’re reminded again. Reminded of the reality you’ve both been trying to avoid – more so you than Jungkook.

“Maybe it does,” you reply, the small, almost imperceptible nod you give him almost. “Things change, people change.”

The weight of your words settles over both of you like a cold shadow.

Jungkook’s eyes search yours, as if trying to find a crack in the wall you’ve put up. “But what if some things don’t have to change? What if...some things are worth holding on to?”

So much longing and regret in his words, his eyes, his heart – he is blue everywhere.

“It’s not that simple, Jungkook.” The ache in your voice betrays the calm you’re trying to maintain. “We can’t just go back to how things were.”

He steps closer, and his familiar scent surrounds you again, making it so hard to act rationally when so many past memories swirl in your mind.

“I know we can’t go back. But I don’t want to lose you completely. Can’t we find a way to be something else? Something that works?”

The idea of keeping him in your life, even in a different way, tugs at you, but you know the danger in that. You know how easily the lines could blur again, how much harder it would be to protect your heart.

That reminds you, there are still pieces of Jungkook left in your room; t-shirts and sweatshirts scattered in your wardrobe.

Taking a deep breath, you push off the counter. “Before I forget, there are still some of your things in my bedroom.”

You catch the sudden confusion in Jungkook’s eyes, but you don’t let it deter you as you pad into your room.

“It’s just a few of your shirts. I’ve been meaning to give them back to you, but uh, I wasn’t sure how to approach you because I didn’t want to contact you, but anyways.” You grab the neatly folded pile of clothes from the back of your wardrobe. “Now you’re here, so.” You hold the pile out to him.

He regards his forgotten clothes with a sight raise of his brow. His hands don’t move to take them.

“They’re old anyway,” he says. “I don’t need them. Just throw them out.”

You hesitate, holding the pile tightly.

You won’t throw them out. He knows that too.

“Fine,” you shrug nonchalantly, storing his clothes back into your wardrobe. They sit there, a constant reminder that he still has a place in your life, even when he shouldn’t. Haunting every little corner that still belongs to him. But you’re just as guilty, allowing him to do so.

When you turn around again, you see the loaded expression on his face, and your immediate response is to ignore it – redirect his attention before he starts digging up old feelings, past memories, and forgotten promises that will only make you doubt the walls you’ve tried to put between you.

“I think you still have some tteokbokki left-”

“___.” Jungkook interrupts you, grabbing your hand. You feel the warmth of his skin, and you’re mortified and comforted at the same time. “I thought we would always speak comfortably with each other. No hiding, no walls – just the truth.”

“That was before the breakup,” you counter, barely able to hold his gaze. “There is no we anymore.”

“How can you say that when our whole lives have been intertwined? We can’t just pretend it all meant nothing, erase everything.”

“Being with me is an inconvenience for you, Jungkook.”

“Is that why you broke up?”

Ah, right. You never told him the real reason.

The night when you broke up with Jungkook was a bit chaotic.

You hadn’t planned on ending the relationship. Threads of worry had plagued you for some time, and you had been considering breaking up with him, but you never had the courage. You loved him, still do. And losing the one person you’ve trusted since childhood was terrifying.

But that night, while waiting for Jungkook at your favourite convenience store, you grew impatient. Waited for so long that you started eating ramyeon without him. As you sat by the window, gazing at the night sky, you decided that tonight you would break up.

Jungkook had always been busy, and you never minded it. Didn’t even mind it as you were eating ramyeon while pondering how to tell Jungkook. But Jungkook had so many things on his plate, so many worries, and you didn’t want to make his life more complicated by being his girlfriend. He tried so hard to always respond to your texts, tried to call at reasonable times instead of the middle of the night after practise, and promised to meet you at times other than when the sun had long fallen.

Jungkook needed to prioritise things that were more important to him.

And knowing his selfish tendencies, you needed to help him a little.

“Part of it, yeah,” you answer.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate when he says, “You’re worth the inconvenience.”

You think he holds your hand a little tighter, but maybe you imagined it.

“I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you, and that night, I – I didn’t know if I would ever feel okay again.”

Jungkook was so used to you giving in. Was so selfishly used to having you whenever he wanted, that once you finally pulled away, his world had lost its gravitational pull. Suddenly, he was left adrift, circling aimlessly like a planet that had lost its orbit.

“I still don’t know. I miss you every night and keep wondering how to move on, but I’m not sure if that will ever happen. How do you move on from a love like ours?”

He’s known you for almost his entire life, and having you completely erased from his life felt like something he could never get over. Jungkook went a little insane. Everyone around him noticed his change in behaviour, but he pretended to be clueless, perhaps as a foolish act of hoping that you might return, change your mind, want him again, and never leave. It’s the hopeless romantic in Jungkook that makes him cling to shreds of hope for a better ending – a happy ending.

And maybe it’s not so hopeless after all, he thinks, as he watches your eyes sparkle with gentle love when you meet his gaze.

“Have you never thought about calling me?” he asks. “Never wanted to text back?”

“I almost do every night.”

“What makes you hesitate?” Jungkook steps closer, and it’s so dangerous, but you can’t keep pretending you don’t want him.

Which is why you whisper your next words, staring down at the small space retaining between your bodies.

“Because I know that I’d forgive and not fight.” You want to force your eyes back to him, but can’t. “It’s not like I wanted to break up. I just did it because I thought it was the wisest decision for us.”

“___.” It’s just a soft murmur of your name, slipping off his tongue with more love than it should, and it sends your heart fluttering far too easily. His voice draws your gaze up to him, and you’re met with eyes brimming with pure yearning and raw adoration. You never forgot how he looked at you, but you did underestimate the intense pull of his gaze – how it stirs something deep within you, even now.

“I thought it was for the better, but...” You trail off, lost in his eyes, forgetting what you were trying to explain and deny. Because what does it matter? How does anything matter when he’s here – when he’s here and not a single bit of his love for you has wavered?

Jungkook cups your cheek with his free hand. It pulls you closer to him. His thumb brushes gently across your skin, and the world outside of this moment blurs into insignificance.

You can feel your resolve crumbling, the walls you’ve built around your heart starting to fracture. It’s terrifying and comforting all at once, the way he’s always had this power over you – the way he can unravel you with just a look, a touch, a simple word.

“I don’t want to let you go,” Jungkook says, his voice tight with emotion. His hand remains on your cheek, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go.

“Neither do I,” you confess, barely believing your own words. But voicing it out loud seems to untangle something within you that had been knotted and confused for so long.

Jungkook’s eyes search yours, making sure he heard you right, that this moment is real and not just another dream he’s afraid of waking up from. His thumb stills on your cheek, and you can feel the warmth of his palm spreading across your skin, grounding you, anchoring you.

“Is this okay?” He leans in the slightest bit.

You nod, muttering a small “Yeah” as your gaze lingers on his sparkling eyes, the soft curve of his nose, the tiny mole beneath his lip – everything that reminds you of longing, comfort and the feeling of home.

The moment his mouth presses against yours, you feel a surge of warmth. It’s tender and soft, his mouth brushing against yours with a mix of hesitance and longing. As the kiss deepens it becomes more fervent, more urgent, as if he’s trying to convey everything he’s been holding back.

Your lips move with a slow, deliberate rhythm, and the touch of his tongue sends shivers down your spine. There’s a slight pressure as he cups your face, wanting you closer, while his other hand slides down your back, settling on your waist.

“I hope you know that I didn’t come here with these intentions.” Jungkook murmurs against your lips, his voice husky. But you guide him towards your bed.

“I know. It’s okay.” You straddle his lap. “You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you to.”

Jungkook’s hands are eager and exploratory, skimming over your shoulders, your back, and down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. His chin rests in the crook of your neck as he breathes in deeply.

“You don’t know how much I missed you,” he mumbles, nose tickling your neck as he snuggles closer to you. “You missed me too, right?” he speaks with an innocent pout on his lips that you don’t even need to see – you know it’s there.

“Of course I did. Why would you think otherwise?” You run your fingers through his silky hair, which is a comfort for both you and him.

“I think I just need to hear you say it.”

He draws back, and a soft smile touches your lips as you see the achingly tortured expression contorting his face – traces of love and relief at having you so close, right where he wants you.

“I missed you.” You keep your eyes on him.

“Again,” he urges softly.

“I missed you.”

Your fingers gently curl around his face.

Jungkook’s lips brush against yours in a fleeting kiss. His forehead falls against yours as your words sink into him, straight to his heart.

“One more time? Please?”

A giggle slips out of you. “I missed you, Jungkook.”

Your laugh dies in your throat when he crashes his lips against yours, more forceful and passionate this time, pulling you so close to him, you feel everything.

Your hips move on their own, instinctively grinding against his lap. He’s hard and the bulge is right where you’re craving him the most. You kiss turns sloppy and needy and it’s filled with heavy breathing.

Jungkook’s hands are all over you. His touches leave tingling sparks everywhere. You’ve gone months without him, and every little brush of his finger makes you lose your mind. Especially when his hand dips into the front of your tiny shorts, lightly grazing the pad of his finger against your panties and making you twitch when he brushes over your clit. You break the kiss, inhaling sharply.

“I wanna make you feel good.” His words are hushed, a slight tremor tinging his voice. His fingers disappear into your panties, rubbing his middle finger along your folds and spreading your wetness. Jungkook is tender as he moves his finger, and you wish you could see him playing with you, watch him be so soft with you because he loves treating you with delicate care, and you love feeling like you’re everything to him.

Your hips buck as he circles your aching clit. You start whine softly as Jungkook applies a little more pressure, his steady, deliberate movements intensifying the sensations as he continues to rub your sensitive spot.

“You like it?” His gaze fixed intently on your reactions to his touches. His doe eyes drink up every nuance of your face and body – each twitch, shudder, and breath. His expression brightens with a trace of satisfaction.

“Feels good,” you reply shakily.

He has you making his fingers all sticky and wet. As Jungkook slowly teases your hole, drawing tiny circles and ever so slightly dipping the tip of his finger inside, your eyes close and your breath catches while you anticipate the familiar stretch of his finger.

Jungkook slides two fingers inside you, and your brows furrow as you feel them burying deep within your pussy. He moves them slowly, each stroke eliciting soft, breathy moans from you. The gradual, teasing rhythm amplifies your pleasure, and with each tender push, your senses heighten, making you ache for more.

“Move your finger like – oh. That’s right. Don’t stop, please.”

His fingers brush against your sweet spot continuously, making you grip his shoulders tightly, your nails digging into his skin as you try to anchor yourself and try to tame the soft trembles of your body as the pleasure reaches you everywhere.

Jungkook holds you close to him by having his hand placed firmly on the small of your back. He keeps you perched on his lap while you lose yourself in the feeling.

As the pleasure builds, you find yourself melting into him, whimpering his name in a gentle hush. The soft sounds of your voice blends with the rhythmic movements of his fingers.

Jungkook feels you tightening around him. He doesn’t increase his pace but keeps his steady pattern going, exactly how he knows you like it. You hide your face on his shoulder, overwhelmed by the fast-approaching high. Your muffled noises sharply contrasting with the squelching sounds coming your shorts.

“Let me see you,” Jungkook gently requests, tugging gingerly at your shirt to draw you back. It’s just a delicate tug, but it’s enough to pull you away from him. You’re too immersed by the intense feelings enveloping you to fully respond.

He catches the exact moment when your moan gets caught in your throat, your lashes flutter shut, and the sweetest glow settles on your face as you reach your climax.

He doesn’t tease you, instead, he lets you revel in the wave of euphoria that pulses through you, your thighs quivering as you gradually come down from your high. As our breath steadies, your foreheads touch, and you exhale heavily through your nose, tickling Jungkook’s face.

He smiles. His eyes reflect a deep satisfaction, because you’re happy and that’s enough.

Jungkook’s hands travel to your sides and he slowly strokes his palms up and down. Your body is warm and shaky and he wants to hold you forever.

“Is it okay that I want more?”

You nod, kiss him, probably a little deliriously, answering, “I want it just as much.”

Your hand glides under his sweater, fingers tracing the contours of his toned stomach. Jungkook wastes no a time pulling the sweater over his head, tossing it carelessly behind you. He helps you shimmy out of your shorts, discarding your clothes in a hasty rush, stealing giggly kisses between each movement, because you need to feel. He playfully comments on how cute your panties are. His finger lazily skims over the little pink ribbon before the material sinks slips down your legs and pools around your feet in a small heap. You giggle shyly.

Just as you want to sink onto your knees, Jungkook grabs you by the elbows, not letting you.

“Want you on the bed, ___. I need to feel you,” he says, voice strained with desperate need. Jungkook leads you onto the bed, gently laying you down. Your head sinks into the soft pillows. He spreads your legs, settling himself comfortably between them.

Your hair is fanned around your head against the pillow. Jungkook can’t help but stare, utterly captivated. He brushes a few strands away from your face, his fingertips lingering as if memorising every curve. His gaze holds a quiet affection, mingled with a sense of awe, like he is seeing you for the first time and falling for you all over again.

A curse slips his mouth as she stared down at your bare pussy, glistening and shining just for him, looking so pretty only for his eyes. For a few seconds, he allows himself to rub his tip over your wet folds. Just gentle brushes, nothing more. You don’t stop him, letting him play a little.

Jungkook is painfully hard, and he dares to slide his tip further down to tease your hole a little. His stare is fixed downcast while he pokes his cheek with his tongue to distract himself from the urge to push himself all the way as he minimally dips his head inside. Jungkook���s so sensitive, he thinks he could cum like this. He’d go insane if he slipped his cock into without protection. He’s let his mind wander to this fantasy a few times and he so desperately wants to feel all of you with no barrier, especially after not having you for so long, but you both have to be careful.

Someday, when you’re older, Jungkook thinks. When he can love you endlessly without always having to consider the consequences.

“Jungkook.” You pull him back to reality, and a faint pink flush colours his face.

He bends over and opens your nightstand drawer, searching for a condom. His fingers brush against several plastic foil packages, and he pauses, lost in thought. He thinks back to the last time he was over at yours. How many were left in the drawer then? Is his mind playing tricks on him, or were there more condoms the last time he was here?

While Jungkook’s mind drifts to you every night his head falls against the pillow in a different city each night – have you been letting other boys warm your bed?

You say his name again, forcing him out of his racing thoughts once more, this time with a note of impatience.

Jungkook tears open the wrapper, tosses it away along with his doubts, and focuses on you again. You chose him, and for now, that’s all that matters to him.

He rolls it down his length. Your eyes fixate on the slow connection of your bodies. Once he’s fully inside, a shaky whimper escapes your throat, trembling as it leaves you. Jungkook begins to move his hips with deliberate thrusts, and your head rolls back, eyes drifting to the ceiling as Jungkook finds his pace.

“You’re so pretty.” His eyes roam over your naked figure, so much adoration and maybe a hint of obsession hiding in them. The white covers beneath you are messy and chaotic, and you lie on top of them like a delicate masterpiece, a striking contrast to the chaos of the bed. The soft light casts a warm glow on your skin, highlighting every curve and contour. The soft swells of your boobs move with every thrust and he enjoys the sight of it.

You grow a little shy beneath his intense gaze. You turn your head and cover your face with your arm.

Jungkook lowers himself, clicking his tongue as he gently pulls your arm away. “Don’t.” His grip is firm on your wrist and he holds it against the covers, preventing you from hiding again. However, his hold on your chin is careful as he guides your gaze back to him. Fingers slightly caressing your skin. “I love everything about you, baby.” His words coax a small smile from you, which he acknowledges with an approving nod and a smile of his own. “You don’t need to hide from me.”

“It’s just been a while.” You bite your lip. The shyness still lingers, like spotting your crush in a crowded room and instinctively hiding, feeling all giddy inside.

Jungkook slows a little, buried so deep inside you, but his movements are precise, hitting the spot that makes your tummy clench.

“I know,” he says softly, tracing his thumb over your lip to free it from your clenched teeth. He plants a little kiss on your mouth, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip to soothe the ache you’ve caused yourself. “I don’t think I’ll last long,” Jungkook admits as his round nose brushes your cheek. You’re so wet and snug around him that he has to focus intently to keep from coming right away. You’re too good, too pretty, occupying every corner of his mind. “Missed you so much. You don’t even know.”

Jungkook’s head falls into the crook of your shoulder. His moans grow a little louder as he moves faster again. He can’t help himself. Feels too good. You wrap your legs around him, allowing him to bury himself even deeper. You pull him closer, throwing your arms around him to have him as close to you as possible while Jungkook repeatedly tells you how much he has missed you and loves you, how he never wants to let go of you and keep you to himself forever. How you are meant for him just as much he is meant for you.

Jungkook sneaks one hand between your bodies and grasps your breast. Keeps a firm squeeze around your flesh while your bed rhythmically hits the wall. All the tender murmurs and quiet gasps of your love had been missing from your room for so long that you began to doubt if Jungkook would ever again fill your bed with his warmth and whispers.

You feel the heat rising on your skin, growing with each passing second, and you can sense it on Jungkook’s body too. His back is hot, slightly slick with a sheen of sweat, and you can’t resist digging your nails into his muscled shoulders, leaving chaotic, frantic lines across his skin. A whine, which you try to suppress, tumbles from your lips as the tingling sensation spreads through you.

Jungkook pulls back, his movements weary yet determined, and peers at you through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Jungkook,” you mumble weakly, and he nods, because he knows.

With a gentle but firm motion, Jungkook shifts, guiding you both onto your sides. He slips an arm beneath your waist, holding you close to his chest as he continues to move inside you. The new position allows him to thrust deeper, and you gasp. His other hand slides down your thigh, hitching your leg over his hip to open you up further.

The intimacy of the position, with your bodies so close and intertwined, makes everything feel more intense, more personal. As you move together, your eyes lock. You see in his eyes the reflection of your own emotions, a mirror of longing, affection.

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, not just from the overwhelming pleasure, but from the sheer depth of the moment, the intimacy of it all, and how much you’ve missed him.

He notices the tears glistening in your eyes. “Baby,” he breathes. “Are those tears for me?”

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’m not letting you leave me again.” It’s a promise wrapped in desire. “That’ll never happen again.”

His hand on your waist grips you tighter, and his thrusts become more urgent until you’re both teetering on the edge.

Jungkook’s hips stutter as he loses control, and with one final, deep thrust, he’s all the way inside you, spilling into the condom with a low groan. At the same time, you reach your peak, your body clenching tightly around his length, breathy puffs escaping your lips as the intense tremors take over. Jungkook’s holds you steady through all of it.

He stays inside you, savouring the warmth and closeness for a few more moments before carefully pulling out. He presses soft kisses along your shoulder and neck, his breath still uneven as you both come down from the high.

Later, after Jungkook asked if it’s okay to stay – just as you had been plagued by the thought that he might want to leave, and sighed in relief upon realising you were on the same page, lovesick and obsessed after finding each other again – and after he asked if he could borrow one of his old t-shirts and you giggled, saying they are his anyway (they are more yours than his and you both know it), you’re now cuddled up in bed with your head on his chest, right on top of his heart where you belong.

“Forgot how comfy your bed is.” He nuzzles deeper into the mattress, wriggling beneath you.

“You should visit more often, then.”

Jungkook sniffs a surprised laugh at your flirty remark.

“I should, huh?” He brushes his knuckles over your back. “After the tour, I’ll make sure to drop by as often as possible,” he says. “So much that you might get sick of me.”

You smile. Banter and flirt and giggle with him a bit more before you both drift off to sleep.

But you wonder, every time your eyes flutter open in the dark, is it actually this easy to fall back into normality?

Pretend the last few months didn’t happen and continue as you had never been apart?

Questions swirl in your head all night long, but the answer to your doubts lies right beside you. Unlike you, he isn’t awake, grappling with what’s right and wrong – he’s softly sleeping, peacefully unconscious of your turmoil.

It makes you think, is it really this simple and you’re just too much? Or is it all a mess, and you’re the only one trying to make sense of it?

Maybe you had it all wrong.

And you wonder, the next morning, are you really that surprised to find the spot next to you empty?

[ponderingmoonlight]

Saving Genya from his big brother only to make out with Sanemi

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,9k

Synopsis: It was never an easy job, being the only one who's able to calm the wind hashira down. There was never more than respect and understanding between both of you. Until you bodly decided to stand up for Genya, until Sanemi finally reveals his true feelings...

Warnings: We're talking about Sanemi so language at violence lol, aggressive making out

I love love love Sanemi and I desperately hope you do as well hehe, enjoy and leave a comment/like/reblog <3

There he stands with his hot temper filling the air and his ruthless beatings torturing the poor souls in front of you. Hashira training never sounded like fun to you, especially when you consider who you’d have to deal with.

Sanemi Shinazugawa, especially.

“Get back up, brat. We’re not finished yet.”

You watch from afar as he hits the poor red-haired poor over and over again. Without any mercy, without the slightest hint of regret. And still, you can’t help but ponder about the way his arms flex and show every vein that decorates his skin. How he moves so effortlessly that your eyes are almost unable to follow. No, it’s not a secret that apart from being a madman, Sanemi Shinazugawa is hot as hell.

And your crush since you joined the demon slayer corps.

“Don’t you think that’s enough for today? The poor boy isn’t even able to stand up straight anymore”, you interfere when he’s about to hit him once again.

 "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were the expert on disciplining. How about me fetching you a chair so you can supervise more comfortably?”

All pairs of eyes are set on you while you step towards the scene in death silence. Apart from everyone else, you aren’t here to train under Sanemi. No, you are a very capable demon slayer yourself, so good that you even managed to beat Mitsuri from time to time. You definetely don’t need Sanemi to train.

In fact, you are here because you’re the only one who is able to tame him apart from Kagaya-sama himself.

"Well, if you ask me so nicely, a chair actually doesn’t sound bad for the next time. Meanwhile, how about we wrap this up? Enough's enough."

Sanemi’s venomous eyes meet yours, tempting you to lose your cool. Within the past few months, you’ve learned how to act around him and that his actions don’t reflect his true feelings at all. Deep within, he is the most caring and compassionate person you’ve ever met, so tender that you’d simply melt away in his touch. He never failed to protect you even if not needed, always made sure you are save before looking out for himself. Damn, he even left his desert for you to eat.

But on the other hand, he’s very good at hiding that side of him.

“Fine. Call it quits for today then. But we two will have a talk later”, he finally mutters before turning around and disappearing without any trace.

Your heart skips a few beats before you’re able to think straight again. Oh, how much you adore him. Just the sheer thought of meeting him alone sends shivers down your spine even though nothing ever happened between you two. After all, you’re only here to look out for him, right?

“Thank you for standing up for me. Now you’ll get in trouble for helping me out”, the red-haired boy lying in front of your feet speaks out while dragging himself up.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I can handle him. Are you alright?”

In the matter of seconds, your eyes scan his body for serious injuries. Nothing, as you expected. Even though his training methods seem rough, he’d never allow himself to truly lay hands on another corps member. Not even him, Kamado Tanjiro. The boy who has what Sanemi always dreamed of.

“Yes, thanks to you. We really need a break after training day and night. Sorry, may I ask you for your name?

“My name is (y/n). Nice to finally meet you in person, Kamado Tanjiro.”

His eyes widen in an instant when you tell him your name. Even though you’re not a hashira, it seems like a lot of corps member know you. A decently skilled swordswoman, a trained doctor who made sure that no one ever died as long as you were around.

“The angel”, he breathes out.

“What an honor to meet you in person!”

In an instant, he gets on his knees and places his head on his flat palms. A pose of deep respect, so intimate that your cheeks heat up in an instant.

“Please, lift yourself off the ground. I don’t deserve your praise-“

“You deserve so much more than that!”, Tanjiro interrupts in an instant.

“Leave her alone. Can’t you see that you’re making her uncomfortable?”, another voice mutters from behind.

A very familiar voice you haven’t heard in quite some time, that makes your heart jump up and down in joy.

“Genya!”, you cry out.

You waste no time. In an instant, you lunge yourself at the now much taller boy and wrap your arms around him so tightly that he cannot escape. Oh, you really missed him. Even though Sanemi states over and over how much he hates his little brother, you always had a weak spot for him. Maybe because you’re able to see his soft side as well or because of the cute way he blushes when you look at him.

“Genya, are you alright? Your face is so red-“

“SHUT UP”, he barks at Tanjiro while you giggle to yourself.

“Why didn’t you send me a crow like I told you to? I was beyond worried about you. But oh I’m so proud. Did you really help to kill an upper moon demon and supported your friends?”

“Well I-“

“Yes he did! He was a big help for all of us!”, Tanjuro interferes immediately.

“(y/n), didn’t I tell you we need to talk?”, someone suddenly barks from the inside.

All color drains from Genya’s face immediately as he turns around with you.

There he stands with his arms crossed in front of his muscular chest, eyes almost piercing through you while the vein on his forehead threatens to pop any minute.

Your heart sinks in an instant. No, don’t let him control you like that, not when you know that he’s just…jealous?

“I needed to talk to Genya first”, you clarify.

“(y/n), please don’t-“

“Oh, is that so? Why would you even look at that trash?”

Thick anger rushes through your veins like the flood. If there’s one thing you hate about Sanemi’s attitude, it’s the way he talks about his little brother.

“I’m looking at you as well, don’t I?”

He flinches ever so slightly, his furrowed eyes now piercing through you like a thousand knives.

“Get inside. Right now.”

“Get some rest you two”, you quickly shout over your shoulder before you disappear into the house with a furious Sanemi by your side.

He slams the door shut behind you so rapidly that it rains plaster.

“What was that, huh?”, he speaks out with threatening low voice.

“I asked your little brother about his mission.”

He cages you between the wall with no way to escape, dangerous eyes locked with yours.

“I told you to stay away from him.”

“And I told you that I don’t care.”

“Why don’t you leave, then?”

“Because I’m the only one who’s able to tame you down”, you bite back.

He huffs in sheer annoyance while pushing himself off the wall. Why does he have to look so vulnerable and strong at the same time, so scary but also mesmerizing?

“You won’t force me to talk to him”, he finally speaks out.

“I want him to leave the corps and get as far away from me as possible.”

“Away from you or away from the danger?”

“I don’t care about him.”

“So you don’t care about me as well?”

Thick silence hangs between both of you while you stare at each other. To this day he never revealed how he truly feels about you. Does he hate you, respect you, love you? You might never know. But your influence on him speaks for itself.

“Go to sleep. We’ll get up early tomorrow.”

Without another word, he leaves you standing in a new wave of ponderings and emotions.

-a few hours later-

Your eyes dart open for no reason. Aimlessly, your orbs roam around the dark room, ears searching for a single sound.

Voices. Shouting. Blows.

Blows?

“Big brother?”

Your heart drops to the floor. That’s Genya. Why does the floor start to vibrate now?

Out of instinct, you yank out of your room, follow a wave of destruction until you finally get what’s going on.

There they stand. Genya with fright written all over his face and Sanemi with orbs so empty you’re almost able to see through them.

Your guts turn uncomfortably as he speeds forward so fast that your eyes are almost unable to follow. Fuck, is he about to pierce through Genya’s eyes?

You waste no time. In the matter of milliseconds, you drag Genya to the ground and therefore safe him from Sanemi’s merciless attack.

“Sanemi.”

You breathe out his name like a prayer.

“Get out of line, (y/n).”

“I can’t allow you to hurt him!”, you cry out, hands still holding onto Genya’s trembling body for dear life.

“You leave me no choice, then.”

It happens faster than you’re able to think. He dashes forward while grabbing the handle of his sword tightly, his eyes and blade darted towards you.

But you don’t even think about leaving Genya. No, you stand your ground in front of him, glossy orbs watching as his blade crashes down straight towards your face.

Until it stops.

“I said move”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“And I said I won’t. Leave Genya alone.”

“Are you really putting up a fight with me, (y/n)? Here, right in front of everyone else?”

You couldn’t care less about the stinging fact that the others are watching you drowned in fear. This goes too far without any doubt.

“You don’t have to do this, Sanemi. Not when we both know you love your little brother dearly”, you breathe out.

“Come on Genya, let’s leave”, Tanjiro’s voice mutters behind you, causing a wave of relief to wash over you.

“I don’t love anyone. Not him, not you, I don’t give a shit about anyone around here”, Sanemi barks back at you with nothing but hatred spilling from his mouth.

Genya doesn’t deserve those words reaching his ear. But apart from that, you can’t escape the sting that fills your heart with agony.

Him, not loving anyone? Of course you never really expected the wind hashira to actually like you back. Of course even him respecting you is more than you could have ever asked for. But somehow you still hoped. Each and every night, you imagined what if would feel like to lay in his arms while listening to his steady heartbeat. Every free second, you pondered about how his lips must feel pressed against yours, how it feels to fall asleep and wake up next to him.

And now he tells you that you mean nothing to him.

You swallow hard, desperately trying to avoid his gaze at any cause. No, you can’t afford to lose yourself right here when everyone is watching.

Out of instinct, you straighten your shoulders and cross your arms in front of your chest.

“If that’s the case, I’m leaving. Good night, wind hashira.”

You don’t care about waiting for an answer. All you want to do right now is going back into your room, going back into safety where he’s not around. How stupid to even consider that Sanemi Shinazugawa could feel anything apart from a little respect for you. You, nothing but an ordinary slayer, still too weak to be called a real hashira. You, apparently nothing but a fool.

Hot tears start to swell up your eyes and cause your vision to get foggy. You never allowed yourself to cry over something so minor. What did you expect, a gut-wrenching love story? With the wind hashira?

“Why did you turn your back on me?”

You flinch so hard that you almost trip over your futon.

“What are you doing here?”, you cry out.

Fuck, this is him, without any doubt. What on earth is Sanemi doing in your room? Just now, when you’re looking like a mess.

“Are you crying?”

“Even if I do, why would you care?”

When your gaze drifts towards his, you feel like drowning and taking your first breath at the same time. He looks so distressed that your heart wrenches all over again. Like a lost puppy, he draws closer until he cages you against the wall. His eyes seem to stare right through your soul, make it hard to produce a single logical thought.

“Why would you even think that, idiot?”

His hand yanks your chin up, forces you to stare at him even more intensely.

“Because you said so yourself”, you bite back.

“You shouldn’t have interrupted me in the middle of teaching Genya a lesson.”

“Teaching him a lesson? You’re breaking that poor boy’s heart-“

“Breaking him? I’m saving him, goddamn!”, he blurts out so suddenly that you shake.

“Saving him? What are you t-“

“Poking his eyes out isn’t that big of a deal, he’d definitely survive. But his career at the demon slayer corps would have been over and out, he would have been saved”, he mumbles frantically.

“That would have meant he’s save, that would have meant he doesn’t die in this shit-“

“Sanemi”, your hands grab his face gently, try to get him out of his constant mumbling.

“He’ll die just like our mother did.”

“Sanemi.”

“I can’t fucking protect you all. Not when you’re around as well, not when you’re not listening just like he does-“

“Sanemi.”

When your eyes meet his, he looks like a troubled child scared of thunder. His glossy orbs stare at you desperately, make your heart ache all over again. All that rambling, giving Genya his coldest shoulder…to protect him?

“You’re just as reckless as him. Not looking out for yourself. What am I supposed to do without both of you around? What if I lose you two as well?”

“You won’t lose anyone, I’m good enough to-“

“How can you know?”, he screams into your face, his voice vibrating through every cell of your body like thunder.

“How can you promise you won’t die? One wrong move and you’re gonna bite the dust. Or you’re at the wrong place at the wrong time like Rengoku-“

It might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life, so reckless that you’ll lose Sanemi completely.

But you don’t care.

Before he’s able to talk about the grief within the past any further, you crash your lips against his while holding onto his face for dear life.

Over and over, again and again until your mind finally shuts up, until it’s only you and Sanemi and his puffy lips against yours.

He wraps his arms around you so tightly that you allow your knees to give in, bodies resting against each other so desperately that you feel like dreaming. Countless nights you pondered about the way his frame feels pressed against yours, what the wind hashira might taste like.

Oh, the reality is so much better, so good that you have to convince yourself you’re not dreaming.

“You’re driving me insane. Since the first time I saw you training with Obanai, since you beamed at me with that sickening gorgeous smile. I can’t escape you. I can’t fucking lose you”, he hisses against your mouth before entangling his tongue with yours all over again.

Sparks fly, stars take up your sight completely as you threaten to choke on all the affection and love that hits you with full force.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, you breathe out.

“And risking you’ll never talk to me again? You have to be out of your mind.”

“I’m out of my mind because of you. Because you make me feel all those strange things”, you puff out.

Faster than you’re able to react, he pulls his face away from yours enough to almost drown inside your glossy orbs. For a moment, all the does is staring at you as you desperately gasp for air with your chest rising and falling rapidly. This really happened. Did you really make out with the wind hashira after he tried to murder his little brother, after all the fighting and rambling of today?

“You’re my weakness, (y/n)”, he finally blurts out.

“And I hate that power you have over me. Especially that everyone else knows it.”

You tilt your head to the side. Oh, that’s so true. After all, this is the reason why you were sent here. You are here to make sure he doesn’t go too rough on his students, that his hot temper is kept at least a little cool.

Well, given the heat that radiates from him at this very moment, the last part definitely didn’t go as planned.

“They know about my feeling for you as well.”

His eyes widen while he stares you up and down in sheer disbelief.

“Stop fucking with me”, he grumbles.

“You were too blind to realize that I loved you for so long while I didn’t even think about the opportunity that you might like me back”, you admit with your cheeks turning as hot as the sun.

“You fool.”

He yanks your chin towards his face, a small smile decorating his usual so irritated face.

“I’ll definitely never let you go again now.”

His lips crash into yours and leave your mind blank all over again.

“But I’ll still kick your ass for talking to me so disrespectfully and interfering with Genya.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine (thank you sooo much for helping me creating reader for the cover)

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Drunk and Disoriented

Prompt: You interrupt Aaron’s day to tell him that you might have…been arrested.

You genuinely never thought you’d find yourself in this predicament. You were never the rowdy type, you were a straight A student from middle school all the way through college. It was just suppose to be a fun night out with some of the girls to let off a little bit of steam after a grueling week of work, but somehow it escalated to the cops being called, you put in handcuffs and now having to call your FBI husband while he’s in the middle of a case at work to explain.

After not answering his cell, you convinced the police officer to let you call one more person-though the river of tears falling from your face probably helped a little.

“Hey Y/N?” Emily’s voice greeted.

“Hey Em.” Relieved that she picked up the call, you sniffled. “Is Aaron there? Could I talk with him?”

“Yeah, of course, we’re all here. I’ll hand you over now.”

You waited until the familiar deep voice of your husband spoke before breaking down into another sob.

“Aaron- I don’t know what happened.- I was with the girls and there was a fight and I’m drunk and handcuffed.” You paused so you could gulp in a breath of air before rambling some more. “I think I might be going to jail. I can’t go to jail Aaron. Please come get me. Please.”

“Y/N. I need you to take a deep breath for me, ok sweetheart.”

You did as he said, momentarily snapping out of your panic at his stern but caring words.

“Ok.” After he audibly heard you take a breath, he continued.

“I’ll on my way. Could you hand the phone over to the officer that’s with you?”

“Yeah.”

You offered your phone to the cop that was standing a few feet from you with your hands handcuffed from the front but he just shook his head.

"I don't need to speak with him. Just tell him you'll be booked at the Alexandria Detention Center."

Before you could start crying again, Aaron's voice rang through clear to you.

"I'll see you in less than 10. Don't worry, everything will be ok."

"Ok, Aaron. I love you."

"I love you too."

You hung up and handed your phone back to the cop before he helped you up from your sitting position on the curb and assisted you to sit in the backseat of the cop car. You don't even know where your other friends ended up or if they were being carted off to jail like you.

As he got into the car and began driving, you leaned your head back and closed your eyes, trying not to become nauseous from the "spins". Your mouth was dry with a the lingering taste of tequila while your wrists were becoming sore from wringing your hands in the cuffs that seemed to be just a little too tight. You were sure you looked like a racoon from all the crying and to top it all off, you're pretty sure you left your jacket back at the bar. The strapless cocktail dress was doing nothing to keep the cold plastic and A/C from chilling you.

All of a sudden, the squad car lurches to a stop, causing you to open your eyes and look around, seeing a ton of red and blue lights.

"What the hell is this?" the cop spoke to himself before getting out.

You scooted up closer to the plastic barrier to see better and spotted 2 black SUV's stopped in front of the car, Aaron and Morgan both exiting from one and rest of the team from the other. To say that Aaron looked pissed was an understatement.

You couldn't hear what they were saying but you did see Aaron flash his badge in the officer's face and point over to you. Then like that, the officer came over and opened up the door as Aaron popped his head in.

"Come on, let's get you out of here," he said, unbuckling your seatbelt and taking your cuffed hands in his, helping you out and adjusting your dress for you as the officer quickly removed the handcuffs.

Everything was happening so fast it was making you dizzy but it didn't matter once you felt the warmth of Aaron's suit jacket wrap around your shoulders and his arm protectively pull you close as you both walked over to his SUV.

"This is so embarrassing. I'm so sorry, Aaron," you mumbled, feeling bad that you interrupted their work on catching a killer to come help you.

"Don't apologize. The officer was in the wrong. You did nothing that warranted his behavior."

His tone was sharp but you know he was still just fuming at the cop, not you. He opened the passenger door open for you but you didn't make a move to get in. Instead, you turned to face him and fall into his chest, crying for the millionth time that night. He gave you the hug you were craving and kissed the top of your head, his voice now softer and sweet in your ear.

"It's alright. You're with me now. Just take a breath."

Just like on the phone, you listened to him and stopped crying enough to take in a shaky breath and let it out as his tight embrace loosened so he could look at you.

"That's it. Deep breaths."

He wiped your face and you couldn't help but let out a little chuckle.

"I didn't know you were gonna send the whole brigade to get me. I wish I didn't look like a rabid raccoon."

He smiled and looked over at his team who were talking with the officer, surrounding him as he looked completely uncomfortable and intimidated.

"They wouldn't stay behind even if I told them to. You mean a lot to them and you needed our help. Plus, I wouldn't say rabid raccoon. More like a sleepy lemur."

He laughed at his own joke as you slapped his chest in return.

"Gonna make some sweets for them when we get home," you said, thinking out loud, wondering if you had enough flour and sugar.

"I don't think so. I'm gonna drive you home and you're going to take a hot shower, dress in one of my college t-shirts you love so much, take some Advil with lots of water and go to bed," he ordered with a look that was suppose to be stern but you could see through it.

"Mm. Fine Mr. Hotchner. Only because I am really tired. But come tomorrow, it's on."

Another small smile from him as he helped you into your seat and buckled you in, giving you a small kiss before closing your door. You watched from the side mirror as you watched him walk over to the team and most likely discuss what was happening before coming back over and getting in the drivers seat.

He held your hand and traced light patterns on your skin, almost lulling you into a sleep as you closed your eyes.

[greengoblinswifey]

Crawling Back to You- Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— you overhear a conversation rafe has with his kook friends and get your payback.

warnings— angst, arguing, sub!rafe, oral(f receiving), Y/N standing on big business!

a/n— based off rafe’s conversation about sofia in s4 ep 3 I listened to Do I Wanna Know? by Artic Monkeys to get this idea <3

You were heading over to Rafe and his friends when you overheard it- him badmouthing you to them. It was casual enough, but his words cut deep.

“I’m not living with a pogue. Just ‘cause we’re together doesn’t make her my girlfriend,” he said, his voice laced with arrogance.

You froze just around the corner, your breath catching in your throat. Your heart sank. Was that how he really felt about you? Was everything between you a lie?

You couldn’t listen to any more. Turning on your heel, you rushed back to his house, your mind swirling with hurt and anger. You collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of it all. Part of you wanted to scream, but instead, your body gave in to exhaustion, and you drifted off into a restless sleep.

Hours later, you woke to the feeling of lips pressing against your neck. Rafe was back, sliding into bed beside you, nuzzling your skin like nothing was wrong. You stiffened, jerking awake, your emotions still raw. Without a word, you slipped out of bed and went straight to the bathroom.

Confused, Rafe sat up. “Hey, what's wrong?” he called out, his voice heavy with irritation, but you ignored him. The hot water from the shower didn’t wash away the sting of his words. As you got dressed and headed into the kitchen to make something to eat, Rafe followed close behind, his frustration building.

“What's going on? Why are you ignoring me?” he demanded, standing in the doorway, his eyes narrowing as he watched you move around the kitchen like he wasn’t even there.

You gritted your teeth, his words from earlier still echoing in your mind. Every second that passed without you acknowledging him only made him angrier.

“Look at me!” he snapped, stepping closer. “Say something!”

You paused, your hand tightening around the spatula, and then you spun around to face him. “Oh, so you’re not living with a pogue, huh?”

Rafe blinked, caught off guard. “What are you on about?”

“Stop bullshitting me, Rafe. I heard you,” you snapped, your voice trembling from both anger and hurt.

He stiffened. “Were you spying on me?”

That was it. You snapped. “Shut the fuck up, Rafe! Stop deflecting!” you yelled, your voice raw with emotion. “You won’t have to worry about living with this pogue anymore, since I’m not your girlfriend. I’ll make it easy for you.”

You turned, storming up the stairs toward the bedroom, your heart pounding as you began to pack your things. Rafe was hot on your heels, his voice almost desperate now.

“Wait, no, please! Don’t go,” he pleaded, his voice wavering as he reached for your arm. “I didn’t mean it. I need you, okay? I need you.”

You kept packing, refusing to look at him.

“I don’t care if you’re a pogue. That’s not what I meant! You’re… you’re everything to me. I just-” He cut himself off, his eyes glossing over, the panic clear on his face. “Please don’t leave. I’ll do anything.”

You stopped, finally turning to look at him. The sight of him, almost on the verge of tears, was something you’d never seen before. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by fear.

But it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You don’t get it, do you? You can’t just say whatever you want and expect me to stay. You made your bed, Rafe. Now you can lie in it.”

He stood there, hands clenched at his sides, begging you with his eyes.

“Please baby, I’ll do anything. You’re all I have.”

You turned to him, your expression unreadable. He was rambling, his voice shaky as he begged you not to leave, but you cut him off with a cold, calm voice.

“Get on your knees.”

Rafe blinked, shocked, as if he hadn’t heard you right. “What?”

“I said get on your fucking knees,” you snapped, your voice sharp as you snapped your fingers. “Are you deaf or something? Do what I said.”

Hesitantly, he sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving yours. You stared down at him, his desperation clear in his face, his usual arrogance wiped clean.

“Now beg me to stay,” you ordered, your voice dripping with disdain. His lips parted, his face red with humiliation, but he did as you commanded. From across the room, he started to beg, pleading with you not to leave, telling you how sorry he was, how he didn’t mean anything he said.

“Crawl to me,” you demanded next, and without hesitation, he obeyed. Slowly, he crawled across the floor to where you stood, his hands gripping your legs, holding on as if you were the last thing keeping him afloat. He kept begging, his words desperate, pleading for you to stay with him, calling himself stupid, apologizing over and over again.

You laughed in his face, a cold, mocking sound, and his face turned red, embarrassment flooding his features.

“If you really want me to stay, then show me how sorry you are. Eat my pussy like you mean it,” you ordered, your voice cutting through his humiliation like a knife. “Make me cum, and maybe—maybe I’ll stay.”

His eyes widened at the command, but he didn’t hesitate. As you lay back on the bed, Rafe knelt between your legs, his lips immediately working against you, trying to show just how desperate he was to keep you there. His mouth moved with a fervor you’d never seen before, but even though it felt good, you held back, refusing to let him know just how close you were.

“Please,” he begged, his voice muffled as he continued. “Please, baby. Cum for me. I’m so sorry.”

Finally, you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your body gave in to the pleasure, and you came, his name on your lips. He looked up at you, relief washing over his face, as if he thought he had won.

“You’re gonna stay, right?” he said, his voice breathless, almost shaking. “Thank you, baby. I’ll never—”

But you cut him off with a harsh laugh, sitting up and pushing him away. “You really think that was enough?” you asked, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You really think I’m gonna fucking stay after what you said? That you can disrespect me behind my back and I’ll just forgive you because you ate me out?”

His face fell, the realization hitting him hard. You stood up, wiping yourself off, completely unfazed by the look of devastation in his eyes.

“I’m done, Rafe. I’m not gonna look like a fool staying with you after what you said. You think I’m gonna let you disrespect me again? Fuck your entitled, spoiled ass. My dream man would never treat me like this.”

Rafe was on his knees, tears brimming in his eyes, but you didn’t care. You were sick of him, sick of his bullshit. “Stay by yourself,” you spat, grabbing the last of your things. “Since you scrutinize pogues so much, you can live your lonely life without one because that’s what I’ll always be.”

He was still on the floor, almost in tears, as you zipped up your bag and headed for the door. Even as you walked away, he was clinging to your legs, still begging, but you ignored him. You pushed him off, and finally, he let go, left kneeling on the floor, pathetic, broken, and alone—as you walked out of his life for good.

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jungkook (22)⋆𐙚₊˚⊹*nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request closed

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

"honey?"

with wide eyes, jungkook rushes toward you, a mix of surprise and relief washing over his face. you open your arms, and he crashes into them with a sigh, melting against you like he's finally letting himself breathe.

his familiar scent, a comforting mix of sandalwood and something uniquely him, wraps around you, making your heart race.

it's only been two nights, but it feels like forever.

your arms tighten around him, clinging, needy, because this is your husband after all. the warmth of his body against yours makes you realize just how much you missed this—missed him.

"what are you doing here? where’s zion—" he starts, his voice a little rough, but you cut him off by pulling away slightly, just enough to place the back of your hand on his forehead. your eyes widen as you feel the heat radiating from his skin, a small gasp escaping your lips.

"yoongi and jaehyun told me you were being a complete douche to them," you snicker, trying to hide the concern creeping in. "said you're sick and refusing to rest or go home. what good is it being here when you're sick and being mean, huh?"

jungkook opens his mouth to defend himself but you cut him off to continue.

"so, i dropped zion off at my parents and drove three hours to tell my husband to get his ass home."

jungkook pouts, his lower lip jutting out in that familiar way that always gets to you, but you hold firm.

"i’m not that sick—"

"i packed your bags and took everything from your hotel room," you interrupt, crossing your arms. "let’s go home."

he hesitates, glancing to the side like he’s about to argue, but then you give him a sharp look. your gaze says everything—there’s no way he’s getting out of this one.

he lowers his head in defeat, his voice dropping to a soft murmur, “no, you’re right. my wife is always right.”

when you get home, jungkook heads straight for a hot, steamy shower. the sound of water rushing through the pipes filling the quiet house. while he’s in there, you start on the soup you promised. truth be told, you’ve been feeling unwell, too. nothing too serious, but enough to worry about zion getting sick. that’s why you dropped him off with your parents before making the long drive.

you aren’t exactly sure what’s wrong with you.

food poisoning? flu season? you don’t know.

but today, you’re feeling a little better than yesterday, which is something. after all, you only threw up twice during the three-hour drive to jungkook and—surprisingly—none on the way back. that’s a win in your book.

as you stir the soup, you hear the shower turn off, signaling that jungkook’s done. turning off the stove, you wipe your hands and head back to your room where jungkook is changing into comfier clothes. he’s standing in front of the bed, pulling on a baggy white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. his hair is still damp, clinging to his forehead in little dark strands, and he gives you a tired smile as he crawls into bed.

you walk over, lifting the covers and tucking him in like he’s a child who needs pampering.

“yoongi said you ate before i came,” you say softly, brushing his hair out of his face. “let me know when you get hungry, and i can reheat the soup—”

“i’m all better,” jungkook cuts in, his voice a little congested but determined. “come here, please.”

you shake your head, raising an eyebrow. “if we’re both sick, zion is gonna have to stay away for—”

“no, no,” jungkook interrupts, mimicking your head shake with a frown. “i’ll be better by tomorrow. i promise.”

“you’re literally congested right now,” you tease, pulling the covers up to his chest. “just get some rest, kook. don’t be grumpy with me because you’re sick.”

“i’m not grumpy,” he protests, his brows furrowing. “you just like bossing me around.”

you roll your eyes, smirking. “right. i love playing nurse for my dramatic husband who refuses to admit he’s sick.”

“i’m not dramatic,” jungkook mumbles, though the pout on his lips says otherwise. you try to pull your hand away from his, but he grips it tighter, tugging you toward the bed. “rest with me.”

“jungkook, you need to—”

before you can finish, he tugs harder, and you topple into bed with a soft laugh. he wraps his arms and legs around you, holding you hostage in a cocoon of warmth. his chin rests on top of your head, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as he holds you close.

“thank you for coming to get me,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, the grumpiness fading. “i can’t believe you drove six hours. aren’t you feeling sick, too? how are you feeling today, honey?”

you nuzzle closer, finding comfort in his embrace.

“i feel okay. i threw up twice on the way to you, but nothing on the way back. only felt nauseous… what did we even eat?”

jungkook chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. but then, silence falls between you two, and a sudden thought crosses your mind. it’s almost like the same thought hits both of you at once.

the possibility—no, the likelihood—starts to settle in, making too much sense to ignore.

you haven’t eaten out in a while, and everything he eats, you do too. if it was food poisoning, zion would’ve been sick by now, right? but he’s fine.

jungkook shifts slightly, his hold on you tightening as if he’s bracing himself.

“do you think—”

“maybe,” you whisper. "honestly? probably."

“okay. ___? i think so too.... should we take a test later?”

you blink, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. ���yeah,” you breathe, feeling the weight of the moment. “s-should i just take it now?”

jungkook lets out a deep sigh, his thumb brushing gently against your hand. “let’s just... take a minute. lie here for a bit."

when the morning comes, you realize you and jungkook slept the entire time.

as you stretch and are about to get out of bed, jungkook holds onto your shirt. 

“no.”

jungkook’s groggy voice breaks through the stillness of the morning, his arm tightening around you as if to hold you in place. the warmth of the sheets and the weight of his body against yours make it hard to resist staying in bed.

“no?” you yawn, blinking your eyes open as sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. “come on. let’s get something in your stomach so you can take medicine—”

“no,” he groans, pulling you closer. his voice is raspy with sleep, a slight whine in it as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. “stay here. too weak to get up. give me kisses.”

you let out a small scoff, still half-asleep but amused by his childishness.

“what do kisses have to do with you being sick and all?” you mumble, rubbing at your eyes.

“they give me strength,” jungkook mumbles into your skin, his breath warm against your neck as he shifts slightly, trying to coax you into staying in bed. “come here. kiss me and find out for yourself—”

you roll your eyes, though you can’t help the soft laugh that escapes your lips. jungkook, even sick and groggy, is relentless.

“seriously? that’s your excuse now?”

he groans again, dramatically this time, as if he’s on the verge of collapse. “please, honey. i'm too weak to move. only your kisses can save me now.”

his hand lazily reaches for yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he gives you that pouty look, half-lidded eyes and all.

despite yourself, you feel your resolve softening.

“you’re ridiculous,” you mutter, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, watching as his lips curl into a small, satisfied smile.

“see? i’m already feeling stronger,” he murmurs, eyes still closed but his grin widening.

you can’t help but roll your eyes again, though the smile tugging at your own lips betrays you. “fine. one more kiss, then you’re eating, okay?”

he hums contentedly, already shifting to make room for you to snuggle closer, completely ignoring your terms. “oh, right... totally forgot but did you know that morning sex heals me?"

jungkook keeps his shirt on while you’re completely naked on top of him. 

as you straddle yourself on top, he rolls his eyes back at the feeling of you sinking into his cock. 

“s-so tight,” he hisses. “god, i love you.”

you laugh. 

“i can’t believe that even when you’re sick, you’re still horny.”

jungkook shrugs. “can’t help it. my wife is divine.”

you shiver at his words. he hasn’t said that in a while.

divine. 

every time he calls you divine, it feels like the first time. it’s such a simple word, but the way he says it—like it holds all the meaning in the world, like he believes it in the deepest parts of himself—makes your heart race. it’s like the ground slips out from under you, like you’re falling in love with him all over again, and it’s almost too much to handle.

you’ve heard him say your name a thousand times, but divine? it’s different. it feels sacred like he’s seeing something in you that no one else ever could. it’s not just a compliment; it’s a kind of worship. the way he looks at you, like you’re something more—like you’re untouchable. truly, he leaves you breathless.

and each time he says it, you feel that familiar rush of love deepening, like he’s pulling you closer in a way that goes beyond words. it makes your chest tighten and your heart race, as if you’re falling for him all over again, but in this softer, more certain way.

as you lift your hips, you drag out how you ride him. 

jungkook loses his mind every time you ride him but right now—god, is he going insane. 

the way your curves are a perfect fit when he holds you—insatiable. the way your breasts bounce in front of him—is mindblowing. he especially loves watching himself cup and squeeze them. they’re always so full. again, perfect for him. they fit in his hands perfectly. 

you fit in him perfectly. 

picking up the pace, you ride him with soft moans escaping your lips. you murmur his name, leaning every now and then closer to him. you take a handful of his shirt, scrunching and gripping onto it as you throw your head back. jungkook follows the curves of your body with his eyes, tracing the way your stomach winces with every bounce. he notes how you squirm when he thrusts, meeting your high halfway. 

when you let go of his shirt, you hold onto his hair. your fingers get lost in it, and he smirks at every tug you pull. he reaches for you, wanting a kiss. 

“no kissing.”

his heart drops. “you kissed me yesterday—”

“you’re sick.”

jungkook, near tears, whines; “you’re sick! no kissing while you ride me like this—”

lowering your gaze, you look at him with a serious look. “do you want me to get off?”

jungkook freezes. 

“are you sick?” he glares. “why are you so mean to me?”

laughing, you cup his face and squish his cheeks together. 

“do you want to cum?”

he nods, eyes wide. his lips part like he wants to speak but can’t. he looks desperate—unguarded, vulnerable as if he’s silently begging for reassurance, fighting the urge to pull you close. you’ve never seen him like this, and it grips your heart.

should he just kiss you?

“if you love me then you’d be a good boy.”

“i am—”

“then just be thankful you’re in me.” 

jungkook gulps. you let go of his face and tilt your head. 

"honey, i am—"

“are you sure?”

he nods again. 

you blink at him. “use your words, honey.”

“what you say goes, mama.”

with that, you and jungkook continue. 

at one point, your hands are planted on the walls behind him for stability. then, his are glued to your ass. the position doesn’t change—he’s too weak to do more than this. either way, you make him cum twice and he apologies over and over for only making you cum once. you tell him it’s okay, and it’s no big deal. 

he doesn’t have to prove anything to you. 

you know what he’s capable of. 

when you two finish, he asks for a kiss. you tease him, telling him he’ll get one after he takes some medicine. quickly, he gets out of bed, gets ready in the bathroom, and rushes to eat breakfast. the minute he finishes, he swallows a few pills and drinks some water. 

just as you finish getting ready and step into the kitchen to praise him, jungkook pulls you in and kisses you as deep and as long as he can. 

you laugh against his lips. when you pull away, you check his temperate with the back of your hand again. tilting your head in confusion, you say;

“w-wait. wow, your fever went down so much. you’re almost back to normal—”

“see what i mean, mama? morning sex heals me.”

[luveline]

ooo i love that you’re giving me free reign over ideas for pregnant bombshell and spencer.. maybe something really angsty where reader’s hormones are getting the best of her and she’s just really pissed at spencer for absolutely no reason? hope that makes sense

thank you for requesting <3 pregnant!reader

“I’m serious, Spencer Reid, you better leave me alone,” you warn. 

Spencer gawps. Morgan glances between you both in concern, having seen hundreds of your conversations over the years and never one this sour. “But I–”

“I’m not kidding.” You glare at him, press your hand to your mouth, and spin away from him to march up the steps to Hotch’s office. 

Spencer attempts to follow you. Morgan holds him back with one hand to the chest. “I wouldn’t if I were you.” 

Spencer watches you until you’re gone. He frowns, upset in his eyes and his model pout. “I don’t even know what I did.” 

“Is this a common occurrence?” 

“No, never! But these last couple days she’s always angry with me.” 

“It’s the baby hormones,” Morgan assures his friend, patting him and pushing him toward his desk. “Or you did something and don’t remember.” 

“If I did, I really don’t.” 

You stew in Hotch’s office. Morgan can imagine the conversation, your annoyance and Hotch’s light bemusement, your wondering if you’re being too harsh, and Hotch giving an amiable, neutral answer. Morgan can also imagine what Spencer thinks you’re doing, watching as his shoulders sink further and further down. 

Spencer scratches a stressed hand through his hair. “I’ll go say sorry,” he says. 

“Maybe that’s a good idea, but not yet. She needs time to cool down.” 

Spencer frowns at his hands. “I don’t like when she’s mad at me like this. We’re always on the same page, I never have to guess what she’s thinking anymore.” He pulls at the neck of his shirt and his tight tie. “I feel like I’m twenty four again.” 

“This is all new for her,” Morgan says. What Spencer doesn’t know is that he’s making this up as he goes. Spencer messed irretrievably for all he knows. “You just need to remember why she’s doing it in the first place, right? She’s loved you for years, one pregnancy induced moment of rage won’t change that. Probably.”

Spencer isn’t appeased. Worse when you emerge from Hotch’s office and walk straight to your desk without glancing Spencer’s way, and worse again when he attempts to talk to you and you shake your head. “Please, Spencer. Just leave me alone.” 

Spencer spends the day in agony. The worry of what he’s done eats at him, and he attempts to make it up to you, ultimately making it worse. You frown at every cup of tea or water he brings you, glaring at the plate he serves you for lunch. The bullpen of the office sags under your fury. Spencer doesn’t eat a single bite all day.  

It’s by chance that Morgan witnesses the full fallout on his way to the bathroom. You’re in the hallway just on the way to Penelope’s office with Spencer, who’s clearly followed you to give apologies and concern aplenty. He’s caught your hand.

“I don’t even know why you’re mad,” Spencer says hopelessly. He sounds heartbroken.

You look at your hands for a long while, seconds stretching and aching, before you hold your stomach and look to the side. “I’m sorry–” you say, cutting yourself off as your voice wobbles unsurely.

“What?” Spencer asks, startled. 

“I don’t know,” —your breath shudders— “why I’m being so mean to you–”

“Angel–”

“I feel like I’m suffocating in my own skin and you’re just making me so angry hovering because I can look after myself, but I’m starting to think I can’t, and I look really stupid in my maternity clothes–”

“What’s wrong with your clothes?”

You huff sharply.

“I’m sorry,” he says, holding out his hands. “I’m so sorry. I know you’re just really pregnant right now and the hormones are messing with you,” —you scoff, but Spencer soldiers on— “I love how you look, and I love you even when you’re angry with me, and I’m sorry you feel claustrophobic. What can I do?” 

Your glare softens slowly. “You’re not mad at me?” 

“You’re mad at me, lovely.” 

Morgan thinks that last bit is a nice touch. You wipe your blurry eyes and squeeze his hands, still breathing too fast and too hard but the anger having completely drained from your features, returning you to your usual beautiful state. You measure his gaze for a while, before resting your forehead on his chest, your bump in the way of a proper hug. “Do you still love me?” you ask quietly.

“No.” He laughs and kisses your temple, using his index finger to turn your face by your hairline carefully, giving him better view of your face. “Yeah, I still love you. I always do. I’m sorry I upset you that much, I’m not trying to smother you.” 

“You didn’t, Spence, I upset myself, and I took it out on you… I’m sorry I was mean to you, earlier, you didn’t deserve it. It’s just hard.” You shake your head. “You never make me feel bad for being a diva and I wish you would.” 

“Would that make you feel better?” 

You sigh. “No, please keep being my sweetheart. Please.” 

Spencer says something too quiet for Morgan to hear, but can be read from the lips as a promise as he sweeps his hand up and down your back. 

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally getting help (prt 4)

Masterpost

The bats worked through the night, coordinating and researching everything that needed to be done. Distortion showed up on the camera which they assumed was Vlad trying to get in but he didn’t manage it. After he finished trying from multiple angels including somehow from directly above (well Zatana did say invisibility, intangibility, and flight were the minimal powers they should expect from creatures of the infinite realms.) He turned human again and spent a long time banging on their front door.

He tried to call the cops but commissioner Gordon called Bruce directly to get the full story then told Vlad it could be dealt with in the morning. Zatana was also coordinating people heading to Amity, a full on raid of the GIW, and the Fentons.

Batman and Superman were collecting all the information that the raid team was sending out and workshopping public statements they could sent out to the public and the government about the unacceptable things they had found and the steps the JL was taking to fix it. The government was not going to be happy they knew, with the JL ‘over-stepping’ into their business and actually getting the word out about the atrocities a branch of their government and their pet scientists had been planning. The JL needed to get out ahead of it before the narrative could be twisted against them.

It was first thing in the morning when they did a live broadcast from the watchtower with Batman, Superman, and Zatana telling the world about the parallel world existing harmlessly along side their own, and the way the government tried to exploit it. The atrocities committed under the name of the Anti-Ecto acts with the ignorance of the public as a cover.

It was at the same time that Constantine, Dick, and Cas were raiding the Fenton’s home. Of course they were armed, but so were the bats, and they were used to fighting people who were armed. It wasn’t a particularly hard fight.

A redhead was sitting wide eyed at the kitchen table. “Can’t we just have one normal day!” She suddenly snapped but she was glaring at her parents, standing up and slamming her hands on the table.  “First you send Danny away with Vlad even though you KNOW they hate each other and it’s a school day and now this! What did you do to bring the heroes down on us!?”

“I don’t know Jazzybear!” Jack half whined as he was forced into power supressing cuffs to neutralize his minor super strength and sat down in the living room.

“I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding, don’t worry sweetie,” Maddie added, both of them were dressed in jump suits which did not help their supervillain vibes.

“it’s not a mistake mate, you’ve been messing with shit you really shouldn’t. And that portal in your basement is a fucking beacon welcoming a war. You’ve gone unchecked for too god damn long, we’re taking over things now.” Constantine told them before stalking down into the basement with Tim on his heels, Batman would be joining them as soon as they were done their press conference.

Cas stayed to watch the parents and Dick approached Jazz gently. “Hey can I talk to you in private please? It’s about your brother,” He said gently and she stiffened immediately. Looking at him in a way that made him feel like she could see straight into his soul and froze him to the spot. After a moment though she just sighed and nodded, beckoning to him to follow her upstairs, to a room that was probably Danny’s not her own. She sat on his bed and grabbed a bear that had been sitting on the edge, waving for him to sit at the desk.

“So, what do you know?” She asked with a sigh.

“Well, last night Vlad took Danny to a Wayne Gala, one of Bruce’s daughter Cas is really good with body language and clocked that something was wrong so she and one of the other kids got him away from Vlad and out of the party. I guess he really needed some adult support because he broke down and told them a lot, about the Phantom thing, the ghosts and… something you’re not going to like. But first I want you to know he’s safe, Bruce Wayne is a licensed foster parent and he’s taking good care of Danny, you can come live with them too if you want.

“We’re going to deal with the ghosts and the GIW and everything else now, I can’t promise by the end of this you won’t need somewhere else to go. I have a feeling if Batman and the Martian family have anything to say about this your parents will end up in prison for their unethical experiments.”

“As long as Danny is okay,” Jazz said firmly. “I was only staying to take care of him anyway, just get me emancipated and a scholarship for Gotham U so I can study while still being close to him I’ll be fine. I’m almost 18 as it is.”

Dick nodded, she was a smart and driven girl, she knew what she wanted, he could respect that. “Now, the thing you won’t like…” he trailed off and took a deep breath. “Danny is pregnant.”

“What!?“ Jazz blanched, gaping at him for a long minute. “That can’t be right! I mean I knew he was trans but he’s usually only interested in girls, how would he even-“ She cut off her eyes widening. “It was Vlad wasn’t it?” She gritted out with an expression the promised excruciating violence.

“Yes,” Dick said shifting awkwardly in his chair.

“Right.” Jazz said and got up, coldly calm. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.” She grabbed a baseball bat from next to Danny’s bed that seemed to be glowing slightly then marched to the other side of the room, opened a cabinet and pulled out two odd looking guns. Before Dick could say much of anything she had vaulted out of the window and taking off down the street.

“Oh dear,” Dick muttered faintly before heading back downstairs. “Hey Cas can we turn on the news, some sort of local station?” He asked. Cas nodded and searched around for the remote, turning it on to find the channel was already on local news.

Vlad was already on there, talking about how it was awful Bruce Wayne had Kidnapped a local child Danial Fenton, and he could not be allowed to get away with this just because he was rich! But that didn’t last long, they watched for a few minutes before a blur of red hair and blue rushed past the camera.

“YOU TOUCHED MY BROTHER YOU CREEP!” Jazz said as she came out swinging and she must have quite the arm because her first swing sent him nearly flying off the stage. He scrambled to get up as she lunged at him again.

“Now Jasmine you’ve clearly been misinformed, I didn’t do anything-“ His muffled voice was cut off as she swung the bat again and he yelped as she hit him in the stomach.

“YOU GOT HIM PREGNANT! YOU DID THIS! YOU SHOULD BEHIND BARS NOT BEHIND A PODIUM YOU FROOTLOOP!” She shrieked as she swung again and this time he managed to dodge. The cameras following them as Jazz chased him down the street, the sound of his supplications and her shrieking fading out as they became more and more distant.

It took a frantic moment for the camera angle to switch to something else, maybe a drone, which was able to follow them down the street.

“You Don’t UNDERSTAND! I didn’t want to hurt him! I just wanted a perfect son! If he had just agreed to be my son none of this would have happened! When I knew it failed I told him to let them die!” Vlad yelled at her, though that did NOT seem to comfort Jazz at all. She had devolved into shrieking book titles like curses as she chased him with the bat and shot at him with the guns though her aim didn’t seem very good.

Well they had him admitting to it on camera now. As he watched a new actor joined the fray, a girl in a red jumpsuit holding a blaster.

“You did what to Danny!?” She demanded as she pointed the blaster at Vlad.

“Oh cheespuffs!” Vlad breathed, his eyes widening as Jazz trailed off letting who must be Red Huntress take over the chase as Vlad shouted about how he had made her! He had given her her weapons she couldn’t use them against him! Which did not seem to be stopping her.

The camera fuzzed out for just a second and then Valery was chasing a ghost with red eyes and a white outfit. Cas was laughing silently at the show and both of the Fenton parents seemed to be in shock. A few minutes later Jazz walked back in through the front door looking tired.

“Turn that off please,” she sighed as she put the bat down.

“Of course,” Cas agreed and picked up the remote again, turning off the tv. 

“Vlad didn’t actually do that, did he Jazzy?” Jack asked softly, he sounded so hurt, as if he had any fucking right!

Jazz looked at him blankly. “How many times have we tried to warn you about him? How many times has Danny told you he didn’t feel safe with Vlad? But as usual you couldn’t see past your own desires. I’m going to go see if the trenchcoat guy needs any help getting into your files,” She sighed before vanishing downstairs. 

Dick glanced at Cas, and then followed them, she would have no trouble watching the Fentons and staying quiet whereas Dick felt like he was about to explode. Batman joined them before long and between the three of them they shut the bulkheads on the portal and locked them, secured dangerous chemicals and devices, and downloaded everything they could. There were plenty of prototypes and blueprints, and stuff that could generously be called research.

It was obvious these people were geniuses but it was even more obvious that at some point they had become careless and obsessive. Half of the writing on the blueprints wasn’t legible, dangerous chemicals were not in proper containment, and the weapons were not locked up. Looking at all of this it wasn’t surprising that two of the people they had been involving in their research suffered exposure, it was a surprise more hadn’t. It was easy to tell when Bruce came down he was horrified, it was in the way he froze when he saw the lab, as if his brain was struggling to process just how irresponsible the Fenton parents had been.

“You must be Jazz, it’s nice to meet you. Danny speaks highly of you,” He finally rebooted to say when she waved at him. 

“I love my little brother, I always did the best I could to keep him safe from… all this,” Jazz said gesturing at the lab with a sigh. “I wish it had done any good.”

“You did plenty of good,” Dick put in. “Trust me, to a kid having someone care about them can make all the difference. 

“All those nights I patched him up after he came back from fighting ghosts. He healed fast but still. I can’t believe… he’s already been through so much and we knew Vlad was up to something! Ellie said she was our cousin but she looked just like him, I should have kept a closer eye on-” She cut off and shook her head. “He’s a good kid, of course if he couldn’t give the babies up, even if it would be better for them if he did. I hope he knows I’d support him either way, I hope he didn’t not tell me because he thought I’d be upset at Him.”

“I’m sure he didn’t,” Dick assured her gently. “Being a big sibling is hard, I know. But trust me you’re doing a great job, better than I did with my brothers,” he said, patting her shoulder. “You can ask him yourself later though. We have a lot to get done today to make sure he’s safe.”

She nodded stubbornly and doubled down on her work, directing them occasionally to where she knew they’d find more weapons or logs. She knew her way around the lab to a disturbing extent. 

Bruce and Dick both got a notification from Agent A saying that after a substantial sleep in Danny had woken up and was having breakfast. He seemed worried about the family but he was taking it alright, especially since he knew they were busy people. It did motivate Dick to clear things up as soon as they could so that they could get back to Danny though. The last thing he needed was More stress!

They had plenty of evidence of the Fenton parents breaking the law to call the police and have them taken away which gave them all the time they needed to strip the house. They got everything they could and decided to leave Constantine at the house to watch the portal until they could figure out how to shut it down completely without causing any damage. It seemed unstable so they didn’t want to risk it just now, especially without Danny’s input because according to Jazz Danny had made genuine connections in the Infinite Realms. 

They wrapped up this stage of the investigation before dinner after being up for about 36 hours. Of course they weren’t Done, there was still plenty to do investigating the government, how they’d gotten away with this and if they had any other nasty tricks up their sleeve. They’d have to manage any backlash from this unilateral move, and they’d have to figure out what to tell the public about Danny since Bruce would be fostering him. But all that could be done after having a family dinner with their new brother and a nap. 

part 5

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[st7rnioioss]

✧ ﾟ୨ৎ* the elevator game

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: matt sturniolo x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt calms you down while you're both filming with sam and colby at a haunted hotel

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: fluff, kissing, swearing, mentions of ghost and paranormal stuff like that

a/n: hi lovelies💕 CAN WE TALK AB MATT IN SAM AND COLBYS NEW VIDEO, HELLO?? took inspo from that to write this😇😇. anyways, it’s currently 1:58am and i am BORED. still sick as fuck😪 ILY ALL SM🤍

───────── 🐇

“I’ll go with Matt,” you say, throwing a hand up.

“Oh, let’s go!” Sam and Colby exclaims in unison, dragging out the o’s, making you smile shyly.

“Okay, now calm down. Let’s go Matt,” you say calmly, pushing Matt inside the elevator.

You and Matt were going to different floors in the hotel, the one before the last, supposedly being the one where a “ghost/spirit lady” should step in and join you guys. Matt was going to do it alone, but you decided to join him.

“Guys please don’t make out on camera,” Nick shrugs, making everyone laugh.

“Yeah yeah, whatever Nick,” Matt rolls his eyes at him, waving bye as the elevator slowly shuts.

“Goodbye everyone! Please remember me if I pass!” you wave with a giggle.

“Say the thing, Matt,” Sam added quickly before the doors shut.

“Please take me to another world. I may regret saying that, but hey. See you guys later!” Matt said as the elevator shut fully, smiling at you. He watched you tap on the button “4”, the first floor you were going to.

“Alright guys, first floor is the 4th one. You nervous?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah. A bit, this is not like anything I’ve ever done before,” you chuckled nervously. Matt then reached a hand out to hold yours.

“It’ll be fine, I promise you,” he smiled as he turned the camera to show you push “2”, slowly intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Fuck, it scares me that the elevator door chooses a pace to go. Like, sometimes it’s fast, sometimes it’s slow,” he smiled as the door closed from the second floor.

“Yeah me too, it freaks me the fuck out,” you laughed.

“Okay, sixth floor now!” you added, pressing the button in front of you.

As you guys reached the 5th floor where a “lady” was supposed to walk in, Matt felt you tense up a bit. He reached out for you to wrap an arm around your shoulder, hitting the “1” button.

“You’ll be fine, okay? I’m right here,” he whispered for only you to hear, reassuringly rubbing your shoulder. You just shot him a quick smile as you felt the elevator slowly drop.

“Okay so, that thing has not been going off this entire time,” Matt said, pointing the camera to the device on the floor of the elevator.

“I’m literally shaking, this elevator is freaking me out,” you laughed nervously, referring to the loud creaking from the old lift. Matt looked down at you to press a kiss to the top of your head while giggled.

“We’ll be fine, don’t worry,”

The elevator finally reached the first floor where the rest of the group were, Matt dropping his arm from your shoulder to hold your hand instead.

“That’s all!” he smiled, pulling you out of the elevator.

“How was it? Did that thing go off?” Nick asked excitedly. You turned to look Matt for a second, before turning back to the group.

“No, not really. And we didn’t smell any flowers or roses either. But the elevator itself is scary as fuck,” you laughed, everyone joining you.

“Alright, we’re heading to the stinky room 525, to do the estes method!” Colby declared, turning back to face the elevator. He took the camera from Matt, who then handed it to Sam.

“You alright?” Matt whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, following the others into the elevator.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks,” you smiled at him, pulling his hand up to kiss it. He giggled in response, Chris and Nick rolling their eyes at you both.

“I really do not hope you guys just made out in this elevator. On camera, for FIFTEEN minutes straight,” Chris laughed, earning a chuckled from the rest of you.

“Chill out dude, we didn’t. But, oh trust me, I tried to behave, I was holding back,” Matt teased, poking your cheek making you blush like crazy. This made him smile, pressing a gently kiss to your forehead.

“You guys should be glad we aren’t recording,” Nick laughed loudly, talking to Sam and Colby, who were both laughing.

a/n: kinda rushed if you couldn’t tell🤡

[vilentia]

Hey just wondering if you still write for tangerine? If you do I was hoping you’d write one about tangerine having to most sweetest and kindest wife and everyone always wondering how could she marry a big grump like him? Like tangerine is on a job and he’s due back in a few days and these men have been sent to kidnap his wife and she sees them infront of her house and goes out asking if they are lost and invites them inside for some tea and makes them lunch and they end up leaving without her because of how sweet she was and tangerine comes back recognising the men leaving the house and his wife waving goodbye to them lol if that makes sense thank you

Disarmed by Kindness

Tangerine x reader

Found this in my requests and finally felt inspired enough to write something. Sorry for the long wait and I hope it was worth it. 🫣

Tangerine wiped the sweat off his brow as he stood on the rooftop, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. His job was nearly done. Just a few more days, and he’d be back home, where things were different—where he wasn’t just Tangerine the assassin, but your husband, the man who couldn’t figure out why someone as sweet as you would ever marry a grump like him.

His thoughts drifted to you: your warm smile, gentle hands, and that voice of yours that could soothe him even on his worst days. Every time someone learned that you were his wife, their brows would furrow, and their lips would purse in confusion. How could someone so kind, so impossibly good-hearted, be married to someone like him? It was a mystery that followed you both everywhere, but one that neither of you cared to solve. You fit together in a way that made sense only to you.

Meanwhile, back at your cozy home, you hummed a tune as you prepared some fresh lemonade. You had just finished baking a batch of lemon tarts, knowing they were his favorite, even though he always pretended to prefer more "manly" desserts. He’d be back soon, and you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he bit into one of the tarts.

As you set the table for lunch, you noticed a group of men lingering just beyond the front gate. They were tough-looking, with hard expressions and eyes that flickered with suspicion. Your heart skipped a beat, but only out of concern that they might be lost or in need of help. You quickly slipped on your apron and stepped outside, your bright smile leading the way.

“Hello there!” you called out, waving as you approached. The men, all too familiar with violence and the rougher side of life, were caught off guard by the sight of you—a small, smiling woman heading straight for them.

One of the men, clearly the leader, cleared his throat and put on his best menacing face. “Ma’am, we… uh… we’re looking for someone.”

“Well, you found me!” you beamed. “But I’m afraid you might be mistaken about who you’re looking for. Are you lost? Why don’t you come inside for some tea? I’ve just baked some lemon tarts, and they’re still warm.”

The men exchanged confused glances. This wasn’t how these things usually went. But something about you—your warmth, your kindness—disarmed them completely. Before they knew it, they were nodding and following you into the house, each one feeling more out of place than the last.

Inside, you bustled around the kitchen, brewing tea, slicing tarts, and setting out an array of sandwiches you had planned to eat alone. The men sat around the table, their bulky forms hunched awkwardly over the delicate teacups you handed them.

“So, who is it you’re looking for?” you asked sweetly as you poured them more tea.

The leader, struggling to remember why they were there in the first place, muttered, “We were sent to… uh… collect someone important.”

“Oh dear, I hope it’s nothing serious. You know, my husband is due back any day now. He’s such a dear, but I do worry about him when he’s away.” You sighed softly, the picture of a concerned wife.

The men felt a pang of guilt they weren’t accustomed to. They looked around at the cozy house, the floral curtains, the homemade meal. How could they possibly harm you or take you away? You were like a ray of sunshine, and they were nothing but storm clouds.

As they finished their tea, you packed up the remaining tarts into a neat little box and handed it to the leader. “For the road,” you said with a smile. “I wouldn’t want you going hungry.”

The men, now thoroughly confused and utterly charmed, left the house without so much as a harsh word. As they walked down the driveway, they glanced back to see you waving them off, your smile as bright as ever.

Just as they reached the street, Tangerine’s car pulled up. He stepped out, eyes narrowing as he recognized the men from a job he’d finished the week before. His hand instinctively moved toward the gun under his coat, but he stopped short when he saw you at the door, waving at the men with that sweet smile of yours.

The leader of the group met Tangerine’s gaze, and for a moment, it seemed like things could go south. But then the man raised the box of tarts, nodded once, and muttered, “You’ve got a good one there, mate.” And with that, they left, the mission completely forgotten.

Tangerine watched them go, then turned to you, who had already started fussing over him. “You’re back early! I didn’t even get a chance to make your favorite dinner yet,” you said, pulling him inside.

“What were those men doing here?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

“Oh, them? Just some lost souls looking for directions, I think. They seemed nice enough once you got to know them,” you said, dismissing the incident with a wave.

Tangerine couldn’t help but smirk. Of course, you had no idea who they really were or what they had intended to do. You saw the good in everyone, even those who didn’t deserve it. And somehow, that goodness had protected you.

He pulled you into a tight embrace, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You looked up at him, your eyes full of warmth and love. “And you’re my grumpy bear. Now, come on, I’ve got lemon tarts.”

As you sat down to eat, Tangerine couldn’t shake the image of those hardened men walking away from your house, a box of tarts in hand, thoroughly disarmed by the woman he loved. You had a way of softening even the hardest of hearts, and in that moment, he felt like the luckiest man in the world.

No one would ever understand how you worked together, but that was fine. As long as you had each other, Tangerine knew he’d always have a reason to come home, no matter how tough the job.

[puckinghischier]

Currently sitting here daydreaming about being on the boat with the Hughes boys. Like, just imagine sitting in front of where Jack is as his hands rest against your shoulders where he’s softly massing your bare shoulders as he’s talking with Quinn and Luke as he cheekily plays with the strings of your bikini top, but you go to playfully slap his hand away as he’d chuckle and lean down to kiss your head as he’d pull you in closer as he’d whisper, “Sorry, pretty girl. Just can’t help myself when you look so beautiful. You know what that bikini does to me.”

“no, seriously, i think he’s gonna be even better this year. have you seen the work he’s been putting in this summer? the man is basically the hulk now,” luke rambles on, talking about someone on an opposing team, the name lost on you, not having tuned in to the full conversation.

you’re too busy feeling the warm sun on your darkening skin, basking in the feeling of being on the water.

“okay, you’re exaggerating a bit. he’s definitely been working hard, but he’s only worrying about strength, not skill or stamina,” you hear quinn’s voice respond.

you’re listening intently for clues at this point, too nosy for your own good, wanting to figure out who they’re talking about, but you can’t be bothered enough to ask.

“he’s definitely gotta work on his diet, too. heard he eats nothing but sugar and junk after games. can’t be helping the stats any,” your own boyfriend chimes in, nearly being able to feel the words leave his body as you’re leaned up against him, letting him rub soothing circles on your bare shoulders.

quinn and luke both mumble something in return, but you’re distracted by the switch up in rhythm of your lazy massage. his hands creep down farther towards the front of your shoulders, brushing your exposed collar bones.

leaning farther back, letting him know how much you like the new pattern, you force yourself back into sleuth mode.

“i just can’t imagine paying that much for a personal trainer out in LA just to throw it all away with bad habits. heard he’s been partying like crazy, too,” it’s quinn’s voice that gives you the clues.

LA? so they’re talking about someone from either the kings or the ducks.

as you’re running through your mental roster of each team, you feel the small strip of fabric on your shoulder be lifted from your skin, jack’s fingers slipping underneath to caress the soft skin there.

you keep yourself focused on your train of thought, knowing trevor has an affinity for sugary snacks and junk food, but surely they’re not talking about him?

“it just seems like a waste to me. kid’s got a lot of potential, but seems like he’s throwing it away before he even gets started,” your ears perk at the sound of luke’s voice.

so they’re talking about a prospect? or a rookie?

focusing even harder, thinking back to all of the conversations of jack’s you’ve overheard concerning this season’s prospects, you try to remember any mention of a player that fits the criteria.

however, all that focus you’re channeling goes straight to the feeling of one of your thin straps loosening dangerously. snapping your eyes open, you turn your head to try and see what happened, noticing large, nimble fingers toying with the half-untied not.

you bring your hand up immediately to swat his out of the way, clamping it down to stop any wardrobe malfunctions from occurring.

saying nothing, you turn ever so slightly to glare up at him, noticing the cheeky smile on his face as he looks at his brothers.

you bring your other hand over to re-tie the knot, huffing when you feel his rough hands move to the other shoulder, already toying with the other strap.

“would you stop it? we’re on a boat with your brothers. behave,” you quietly scold so that only he could hear, not wanting to disrupt the conversation you were trying so hard to decipher.

he glanced down at you, smirking before leaning his mouth down to your ear. “sorry, pretty girl. just can’t help m’self. look so pretty in all these colors,” he whispers against your skin, letting his hot breath fan over the sensitive spot behind your ear.

you shiver slightly, craning your neck to give him access to more of your skin, the sensation making you unable to focus on anything else.

“know you wore it just for me. s’my favorite, told you that, didn’t i?” he asks you, focusing his touch on your upper arms now, rubbing up and down in a teasing manner, drawing out goosebumps on your smooth skin.

“mmm, can’t remember, did you?” you basically pant out, swallowing a groan at the feeling of his lips placing a kiss to the top of your neck, tongue peeking out only slightly to taste your warm skin. he knows how quickly you fall apart at the action, eliciting the exact reaction he wanted from you.

his chuckle vibrates through your body, but the sound is covered up by the hum of a boat speeding by your stationary one, bringing you back to the reality of where you were.

you sit up, distancing yourself from jack only slightly, eyes glancing around to make sure no one witnessed the little ‘moment’ you and jack just had.

you swallow thickly, willing every nerve in your body to calm the fuck down.

quinn and luke are too wrapped up in their conversation to realize jack hadn’t chimed in for a few minutes, so they were completely oblivious to what he just tried to do.

relief washes over you, sinking back into jack.

“don’t think this is over, sweet girl,” he speaks lowly into your ear once again. “can’t promise they won’t hear just how happy this little suit of yours makes me when we get back to the house,” he finishes, causing your stomach to drop in anticipation.

you gulp as he raises back up, going back to rubbing your shoulders as if nothing ever happened.

“what do you think, jack? think he’s got the stamina to compete?” quinn asks his younger brother, continuing the conversation neither of you were focused on anymore, not noticing how rigid you’ve suddenly become.

“oh, i don’t know. guess we’ll have to see,” he shrugs. “we all know how important stamina is, after all,” he squeezes your shoulders, letting you know his words were meant for you, not his brothers.

when you can practically feel the smirk on his mouth as he said those words, you decided that buying this bikini was both the best and worst decision you made this summer.

[nadvs]

In sleeping with the enemy,

What if people know that they’re just fucking and the jealous girls give shit to reader about how she’s just a lay making her cry and then rafe hearing about it

THE ANGST OF THIS. I LOVE IT 🙂‍↕️

based on this fic

she and rafe keep hooking up with no strings attached and actually develop a good friendship. they both like how the other is direct. they don’t bullshit each other. it’s easy because he’s never really cared to mince his words and she’s so jaded about love and men that she doesn’t worry about hurting his feelings.

she gives him shit about how he has no emotions and he says she’s the exactly the same way. it’s what makes their dynamic so good. they don’t have to worry about feelings getting in the way. they’re friends with benefits in the purest form.

their time together almost always revolves around sex, but sometimes they hang out as friends, and one night, rafe invites her to a frat party on his college campus.

she recognizes a few cheerleaders from rafe’s team at the party and they’re immediately shooting her dirty looks. one of them says “i don’t know why he invited her” loudly and she can tell right away that one of the girls in the group must have a history with rafe because her friends look to be comforting her.

“she’s just a piece of ass to him,” another says, clearly projecting her voice. at this point, she knows she shouldn’t care, but the harsh truth that she hasn’t found a guy who wants to be serious with her yet stings.

she’d stand up for herself, but she’s had a rough day and she hates that she’s alone at that moment, so she rushes out of the party, upset that they succeeded in making her cry.

rafe notices her leaving in a rush, wedging out of the crowd. she hears him calling her name when she steps out of the house into the night air.

“are you crying?” he asks. he’s only ever seen her having fun, pissed off, or horny. this is new.

“don’t give me shit about it, alright?” she says, stopping in her tracks and wiping her tears away. “i’m not in the mood.”

“did something happen?” he asks, albeit awkwardly. he’s never been good at dealing with other people’s feelings. and he’s never seen her vulnerable like this.

“people are just assholes,” she responds.

“who?” he’s pissed off. who the fuck felt like they had the right to mess with her?

“some girls on your cheer squad,” she replies. “they were saying i’m just a piece of ass to you. and don’t worry, i don’t care about that. i know we’re just messing around. but they were so mean about it.”

rafe scoffs. he knows which girls she’s talking about immediately. he steps closer, tense but determined when he squeezes her hand.

“what are you doing?” she says, cracking a smile. he never acts like this. affectionate. like he cares.

“it’s not about you,” he tells her. “i hooked up with one of them forever ago. i told her i didn’t want to date but she’s obsessed with me. don’t let them get in your head.”

she looks at rafe quizzically.

“you’re just being nice so i don’t stop hooking up with you,” she says, admittedly feeling better.

“is it working?” rafe asks, smirking. she laughs and rolls her eyes and pushes him away.

he doesn’t know when he started actually giving a shit about someone else’s happiness, but it happened with her. seeing her cry made him feel a hard, twisted way he’s never felt before.

“get fucked,” she laughs. he can tell he really did console her. she’s smiling again.

“promise?” rafe says with a grin. he takes her hand again, pulling her towards the house. “you’re not leaving. i didn’t bring you so you’d go home a minute later. i’ll set them straight if they fuck with you again, alright? let’s have fun.”

“fun?” she repeats. “i’m not hooking up with you in a closet, just so you know.”

“i know,” rafe says, hand at the small of her back as they enter the party again. “we can find a bed around here, i bet.”

she shoves his shoulder, mirroring his smile as he guides her through the crowd.

[gtgbabie0]

Hi! :) could you write fluff spencer reid x pregnant bau reader on a gala of sorts at their work where he is all careful and protective with her

-Spencer Reid x reader

Of course lovely, it’s a little short but I hope you enjoy nonetheless! 💕

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“Give me your hands sweetheart,” Spencer says, pulling you away from everyone else as he takes out a small bottle of hand sanitiser from his pocket. You do as he says without saying a word, you learnt the hard way not to question him any more.

You watch with a soft smile as he squeezes the bottle, the liquid is cold against your palms and you’re quick to rub it in. “Have you eaten yet?“ he asks, bringing a protective hand to settle against your lower back nudging you closer to him.

“Mhm, don’t worry David did let me go hungry” you smile reaching to tuck his hair behind his ear, he smiles gently as he leans into your touch.

He knows he has a habit of over-worrying, especially when it comes to you and you can’t blame him considering how much he’s lost in the past, perhaps that’s why you felt riddled with guilt after you had snapped at him this morning, immediately diving into teary eyed apologies.

“Good, do you need to sit down?” He smiles, he can’t help but ask. His palm soothes your back as he watches you roll your shoulders.

Your hand rests against your bump when you feel your baby kick, interrupting your train of thought, your eyes light up and you don’t waste a moment, bringing Spencer’s hand to your belly.

“We’re fine” you smile, watching his face practically beam with amazement.

“I know- I know” Spencer whispers, as if he's trying to calm any wondering thoughts he has, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

In all honesty, Spencer wasn’t sure he was ready for a child when you had first told him, and he still doubts himself from time to time but there’s something warm that blooms within his chest when you ask him to get whatever odd foods you’re craving or when you gently tug his hand to feel the baby kick.

“You’ll tell me if you need anything, yeah?” He whispers, and you can tell by the way he approaches the question that he’s being careful not to swamp you with his worry.

You immediately lean into him, pressing a kiss against his cheek, “Of course I will” you promise, taking his hands in yours.

You watch as his eyes scan across the room, and you know for a fact that he’s checking for anything that might end up being dangerous for you. He’s already baby-proofed the entire house… just for you.

“You know what? Maybe some fresh air” you suggest, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea the room was quite stuffy after all.

This seems to get his attention, his eyes finding yours once again. “Okay, yeah we can do that” Spencer smiles, his hand settles against the small of your back as he guides you through the room.

The room was dimly lit and packed with people from different precincts, and the mixture of light chatter, music and trying to watch over you was starting to become far too overwhelming for him. He was ready to go home a long time ago.

Your hand grasps his arm as you both walk side by side, your path abruptly stopped by someone who clearly wasn’t looking where they were going as they walk straight into you.

Spencer has never been quick to anger as he was in that moment, immediately pulling you behind him as he confronts the younger man with a scowl. “Watch where you’re going” he snaps as he looks back at you, making sure you're okay before looking back at the very obviously inebriated man.

“I- I’m sorry I didn’t see her, I-" he tries to explain himself, panicked as he makes eye contact with you. Spencer doesn’t let him finish his sentence.

“Wasn’t looking where you were going?” He scoffs, and you take the initiative to reach for his hand, trying to stop this from getting out of hand.

You let out a sigh of relief as you notice Derek walking towards you with a soft smile, “I got this” he mouths at you, before nodding to Spencer.

“Come on Spence” you whisper, tugging on his hand as he notices Derek, he gets the memo and he turns around to you. His thumb soothes over your knuckles and his heart seems to find a calmer pace, he takes a deep breath once he realises you're okay.

His eyes soften as you pull him towards the door, the cool air against your skin alleviates your stress and you're finally able to breathe. “Are you okay, you’re not hurt?” He asks, sitting down next to you on the bench, he takes his blazer and drapes it over your shoulders.

“Yeah I’m alright, are you? looked like you were about to start throwing punches back there” You rest your head against his shoulder, enjoying his body warmth that blankets over you as he wraps an arm around you and it only drives you to shuffle closer to him.

“I should’ve brought my cane” he chuckles, his cheek resting against the top of your head, and you both break out in laughter at the idea of him weaponising his cane.

The pair of you stay like that for a moment, enjoying the peacefulness of the cool evening. “I think I’m ready for bed” you tell him and he’s already calling a taxi.

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