#but fingers crossed that we all enjoy it and that it's genuinely just a fun good show that adds to lcdp rather than takes from it

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Intoxication [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

wc: 9.2k

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi”

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

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

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

“I was just about to leave, actually.”

“Why?” she asked, noticing my sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tastes like… strawberry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked around with a slight smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?”

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

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

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

“You have to try it,” she moaned.

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

“Hey!”

“You’ll thank me later.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sweetheart.”

“Hmm?”

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

“Of course.”

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

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

“You move well, Reid.”

“Don’t lie.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Want a drink?”

“Honestly, no.”

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

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

“Sorry?”

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

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

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

“Sexy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That makes sense.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smiled, a gesture somewhere between innocence and knowing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No! I mean, yes… it’s just…”

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

“Did you throw up?”

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

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

“I can take a cab.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you have fun?”

“Quite a lot, actually.”

“We should do this more often.”

“Go to university parties?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?”

“Yes, just… suddenly felt a bit feverish”

“Let me check”

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

My choice of words wasn't the best either.

“You’re hot,”

“I don’t think it’s as much as you.”

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

“Why are you saying that?”

“Don’t you like it?”

“It’s just… I don’t understand it.”

A soft laugh echoed in my ears.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Spencer.”

“Yes?”

“Could I kiss you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you apologizing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, wait…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you feel okay with this?”

“A lot. Do you want to stop?”

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

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

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

“No”

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

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

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

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

I wanted her too. I wanted her now.

“I never imagined…”

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

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

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

“Did that clear your doubts?”

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

“Then stop overthinking”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tell me”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take me to bed, please.”

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

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

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

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

“You are painfully stunning, did you know?”

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

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

"Sorry, I..."

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

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

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

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

"Don't make fun of me."

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

"No, it's not that."

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

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

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

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

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

"Where are you going?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Busy?"

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

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

“Uh-huh”

“Have you read any books on female anatomy?”

“Quite a few”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your wish is my command”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you satisfied?”

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

“I'm speechless.”

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

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

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

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

“Do you mind lending it to me?”

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

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

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

“Yes, of course I want”

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

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

“Your feet are frozen, are you cold?”

"Not much"

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

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

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

“So you’re like a human blanket”

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

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

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

“Your guess is quite accurate.”

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

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

“I like you a lot”

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

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

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

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

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

[blorbosexterminator]

Raquel and Alicia would be in the berlin spin off? What do you think of that? What possible plot line that could have fit in with them?

This simultaneously came as the biggest surprise related to the spin-off possible and also completely unsurprising LMFAO. A few weeks ago, @roccinan and I were joking about this exact same thing and went if 'what if instead of everyone else, Alex Pina gets Itizar to play Raquel in the spin-off, wouldn't that be insane?' And as always, the conversation took so many different turns and twists and we joked about everything but I think we both concluded that it actually wouldn't be that insane and that it's HIGHLY plausible if he did want to do it. Because Raquel is a major policewoman/detective in Madrid and it would actually be very interesting if we watched her rise as a policewoman in parallel to Andrés rise as a thief; they are both young and still haven't made that formidable name but they are incredible at what they do and show this potential and as a viewer knowing how they end up it would be very cool. And the other thing we talked about would if basically Raquel is just running around the city always constantly 'nearly' catching Andrés but he always slips out of her finger at the last moment and maybe she doesn't know 'who' exactly she's looking for, and maybe she does.

What I want to say is, they are many scenarios they could fit in because it's not at all weird that a major policeman like Raquel would be working on a major heist case in Madrid. And putting Alicia in too, makes a lot of sense because they graduated together and it's very likely they worked together on some cases, and also very cool because their dynamic obviously have a lot of fans. And it's basically two spin-offs in one: one based on Berlin and his rise, and one based on Raquel's younger years in the force.

That's on one hand, on the other, it was a genius marketing trick by Pina because he's basically ensuring at least 80% of the original audience will watch the spin-off now. Either because they genuienly just love Raquel (which most general audience and also fandom do), or now they will be waiting for any 'prequel' thoughts on serquel (and the serquel fandom is hugel), or for Alicia, the s3 villain that gained a huge amount of fans.

Bottomline is, I think it's something that is making me way more excited for the show (and I already was) and will have the same effect on many other people. And I think it promises that the show will be pretty fun, playful, and paying homage to the original show. So overall, a good move (they obviously can ruin it in the show itself, but until now, it seems very promising to me); I can imagine a lot of storylines that can organically involve Raquel and Alicia, and on a marketing level, I think it's genius to ensure the show is watched by enough people to get a second season, which I believe what Pina wants and is planing for.

[enha-doodles]

please do a slytherin boys reacting to you being a hufflepuff pls

SLYTHERIN GUY'S REACTION TO YOU BEING A HUFFLEPUFF | ✧⁺。

Pairing : (Mattheo , Tom , Theodore, Lorenzo , Draco) x reader

Notes : okay so now only Slytherin left and next will definately be an enhypen post , it's been too long since I posted something for them 😭

Warnings : not proofread , written in a hurry my bad guys

MATTHEO RIDDLE

Mattheo's smirk widens as he gazes at you, unable to contain his amusement. "Well, well, well, my dear Hufflepuff," he begins, his tone playful yet affectionate, "aren't you just the epitome of kindness? It's like you're allergic to anything even remotely sinister." He chuckles softly, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "But fear not, my sweet, for I'll be your guide through the shadows. Together, we'll navigate the dark corners of Hogwarts, with your innocence as our secret weapon." He grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Who knows, maybe you'll even rub off on this Slytherin and teach me a thing or two about being... less evil." He winks, his playful tone laced with genuine fondness for you. "But until then, let's just enjoy the ride, shall we?" You can't help but laugh at his teasing, feeling a surge of affection for the charming Slytherin who's captured your heart.

TOM RIDDLE

Tom rolls his eyes at the mere mention of Hufflepuff, muttering about the insignificance of a house that values kindness above all else. He's determined to toughen you up, constantly pushing you to shed your soft exterior and embrace the cold, hard reality of the wizarding world. "Kindness is a weakness, darling," he'll growl, his gaze steely as he lectures you on the importance of ambition and cunning.

He'd manipulate you by turning you against your friends because in his eyes you are born to evil that's why you ended up with him , your friends are the wrong influence "And those so-called friends of yours? They're just wolves in sheep's clothing, waiting to take advantage of your sweet nature. But fear not, my dear, for I'll always be here to protect you" He's there even if it means scaring away every potential suitor with a well-timed glare.

THEODORE NOTT

Theodore can't help but chuckle at the irony of your Hufflepuff allegiance, but it's all in good fun. He'll mock you mercilessly, recounting every Slytherin victory over Hufflepuff in Quidditch or other competitions. Yet, despite his teasing, Theodore knows when to concede defeat, his love for you outweighing any petty house rivalry.

"Alright, alright, my little badger," he'll sigh, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I may be a Slytherin, but you've got me wrapped around your little finger. Just promise me you'll stop bringing up that time Hufflepuff beat us in the House Cup. It still stings, you know."

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

He'll even go as far as pretending to roar like a ferocious dog lion - oh the irony , whenever someone gets too close, much to your amusement.

Lorenzo can't resist the urge to baby you at every turn, his heart swelling with pride whenever he looks at you. He'll hover protectively by your side, his arm draped over your shoulders like a shield against the world. "My sweet little badger," he'll coo, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'll protect you from every danger, real or imagined. No one's laying a finger on my precious Hufflepuff, not while I'm around."

DRACO MALFOY

Draco's annoyance is as evident as ever, his aristocratic features twisted into a perpetual scowl (his resting face actually) as he begrudgingly accepts your Hufflepuff allegiance. He'll grumble about the stupidity of your house, his annoyance palpable in every word he utters. "Hufflepuff" he'll mutter under his breath, as if the mere mention of the word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

But despite his disdain, Draco can't help but crave the princess treatment you're all too willing to provide. "Fine, Hufflepuff," he'll huff, crossing his arms in a dramatic display of annoyance. "But don't think for a second that I'm not expecting extra cuddles to make up for it."

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　 　 　。

[singmyaubade]

Shades Of Cool

toxic!dark!rafe cameron x female!pogue!reader

summary: you are just living your life, completely normal and free. but, what happens when rafe cameron decides that you are his? he's danger.

warnings: smut! 18+ stalking, manipulation, rafe is obsessed with reader, fingering, swearing, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, praise, oral (male receiving), dark!rafe cameron, choking, jealousy, violence, heavy smut..

a/n: i'm delighted I'm finally starting this, even if it took me so long. i genuinely hope you all enjoy this series. i understand that this a bit short, but the narrative is only getting started, so things will only get wilder! however, it is to be expected—this is a rafe cameron fic.

series

One thing that you hated about Outer Banks was how the heat still radiated at night, causing excessive amounts of water to be drank and a great amount of fans that blew hot air into your face.

It only made everyone irritable and only caused more arguments like now,

"I swear to god JJ, I am about to fucking murder you if you say another word," You hissed, giving him a glare as he mockingly grew scared.

"I agree," Cleo said before falling back into her nap.

"All I'm saying is that we have been moping around here for hours meanwhile we could be partying on the fresh beach and cool water," JJ replied, using his hands to represent the scenery to all of you.

"I'm going to have to agree with Y/N," Pope said, turning his head to JJ, "I'm already in tough shit with my parents for when you knocked over my great-grandmothers vase," Pope glared.

JJ put his hands up in defense, "I told you tequila makes me clumsy,"

"Besides every single Kook is there, including Rafe and if he sees Sarah with us, it will only bring another fight and you are not going back to jail," Kie warned, still closing her eyes while the fan blew the air in her face, blowing her hair.

"When have we ever been scared of Rafe?" JJ asked.

"When he gave me a full smackdown for doing my job," Pope scoffed.

"And when he almost drowned me," Sarah chimed in from across the room where she was laying on John B's legs on the carpet floor.

"And when he shot Sheriff Peterkin in front of us," John B added.

"And when-" Pope began.

"Okay that's enough," He said as you giggled, turning your head back to the fan.

You didn't know much about Rafe Cameron since you had moved to Outer Banks only last year and you had met the "star Pogues" a few months ago.

You had never really seen Rafe's face ever, only heard of him honestly.

But you didn't know if it was a bad thing.

All you had heard about was how evil and villainous he was which caused some places to be off limits for the fact that the boys couldn't handle another beat down with the Kooks and there was a greater matter at hand.

But still, you always were curious about "evil" Rafe Cameron.

"You guys are no fun," JJ pouted, sitting beside you on the couch.

You patted the lower part of his leg, "Poor baby," You sarcastically said to which moved his leg swiftly causing you to laugh.

Suddenly the lights and fans turned off as you all except for JJ groaned, knowing that meant the electricity was off you and you would have to deal with the heat and darkness.

Which meant the only choice was the beach party,

JJ cheered, "I win!"

You crossed your arms as you walked on the warm sand, lots of cheering and loud music around you. You could see the Kooks and the Pogues in their own groups, not daring to interact with eachother.

It was hard to get used to the fact that there were two groups of people based on economic statuses and that it meant that if you were one thing, the other one hated you.

You had never been to a place like that but you just kinda got used to it.

Yet you still could never tell which group was really which sometimes.

You were forced to walk around by yourself as John B and Sarah wandered off to a quiet spot while JJ started drinking with Kie as his babysitter and Cleo and Pope wandered around.

All of it sounded like a lot of third wheeling which made you stay away.

But you didn't mind being alone, you liked listening to the waves and watching the festivities that went along with a party.

And you knew that a beer would help you get more into the party festivities.

You walked over the keg where a man with a shaved head and a matching tank top and shorts poured himself a beer as you curiously looked at him.

You had to admit that he was one of the most attractive men you had seen before.

His lips were a perfect shade of pink and they were smooth like sucking on a cherry. His veins were bulging from his hands and you could see the peach fuzz on his jawline that you could only really see upclose.

You snapped out of your analysis as he looked at you as you waited there awkwardly, forming a smile on your face.

"Sorry to creepily stand here, I'm just trying to get a uh-" You said, pointing to the keg.

His face studied you for a second, almost as if he was trying to figure you out. You could tell by his face that he had never seen you before and he looked as if he was trying to figure out if you were a Kook or Pogue.

He chuckled, "Didn't mean to take so long, I wouldn't have if I had seen your pretty face sooner," He smirked, looking you up and down, causing you to blush.

You felt stupid for blushing over something that a man probably said to every pretty girl he saw but you felt something different about him.

You were taken aback by his boldness, "Do you say that to every women that waits for her turn on the keg?" You teased.

"Only the pretty ones," He replied, causing you to laugh.

"Smooth talker I see," You smiled.

"Always," He joked, "I swear I've never seen you around and usually, you know everyone in Outer Banks," He probed.

"Yeah, I just moved here last year," You answered, "I haven't made my rounds yet,"

"Figured," He said, "I would've definitely noticed you,"

"Pfft," You beamed, "I'm sure you would've walked past me on the beach, there are many beautiful girls here,"

"Nah," He laughed, looking off, "You are different from them,"

"How could you already assume that?" You asked, curiosity biting at you.

"For one, you aren't stuck up and preppy which is most the girls on this island," He grinned as you giggled.

"Ay, they aren't all like that," You replied.

"Most of 'em," He added, "But I don't pay much attention to them,"

"Figures," You said, eyebrow raising.

He saw your eyes move the keg and his cup before he offered his cup forward.

"Might as well take mine, I wouldn't feel proud of myself if I let you pour one yourself," He winked.

Great attempt at being a gentlemen.

"No no, I got it," You said before he shook his head.

"I insist" He said, his thumb grazing yours.

"Thank you," You smiled, "I'm Y/N" You introduced, taking the cup from him while extending your other hand for him to shake.

He shook your hand, "I'm Rafe," He replied with a smile as yours slowly fell.

The Rafe? The Rafe you were basically supposed to never interact with and who was the supposed devil? That Rafe?

"Rafe Cameron?" You asked, standing frozen.

"Guess my reputation precedes me," He joked as you didn't laugh but instead cleared your throat.

You took your hand back quickly, "Oh, i-it's nice to meet you," You cleared your throat, "My friends are waiting so I'm gonna-"

He clearly figured you out, "Pogue, I'm guessing?" He snickered.

Your face wrinkled, "Is that supposed to be a funny thing?"

"Hilarious actually," He answered, only angering you more.

"I don't see what's funny about that?" You crossed your arms with ur drink resting in your hand.

He wiped his jaw, "Must be tough at the bottom of the food chain,"

Your nose flared, "Must be tough being an elite asshole,"

He laughed, "I just think it's an unfortunate cause, I mean it's just unlucky," He smirked.

Asshole.

"Unlucky?" Your lip pursed, " I think what's more unlucky is thinking that your cool for a fucked up economic status that has been perpetuated on an island,"

"I just don't believe your friends belong on Outer Banks," He said, not a hint of hesitance in his voice.

He really believed in this bullshit.

"I mean you would really rather hang out with a group of dirty Pogues?" He snickered, looking off.

"Well I am one of them and they are my friends," You scoffed, "You seem more dirty than us," You insulted.

"Is that so?" Rafe mocked.

"Do you wanna talk about your father's dirty money?" You asked.

"I would watch that pretty mouth," He replied, inching closer.

"Or what?" You hummed, acting braver than you usually would.

"Fuck around and find out sweetheart," He came closer, breath fawning on your face.

The whiskey on his breath kissed your nose but not breaking your eye contact with him as you inched closer, eyes on his lips.

As he tried to close the gap, you threw the drink in his face. "Oohs" and snickers filled around the both of you as you stomped away from him.

He smirked, wiping the alcohol off of his face.

'What an asshole,' You thought,

Little did you know that Rafe only grew to like you more.

You found JJ and Kie sitting by the beach together as she laid her head on his shoulder. You were thinking about interrupting them but tarnish their moment, you choosing instead to call it a night and also you didn't feel like trying to find the rest of the group.

You were glad that you knew yourself enough to drive to the party considering that you got tired fast. You couldn't really see in the parking lot due to how dark it was and away from the lights.

You digged in your back pocket for your phone to pull out of the flashlight as you reached for your keys but dropped them instead in the process.

You audibly groaned as you searched on the floor in the darkness for the keys. You went on your knees with your flashing light, searching on the ground as you heard footsteps behind you, darting your flashlight behind you but seeing nothing.

You had a bad feeling but you thought it was paranoia because you were alone in the parking lot and maybe a little due to the interaction you had earlier with Rafe.

You couldn't stop thinking about how he came off as nice but switched so quickly into an elitist piece of shit.

Sounds like how they described him.

But still, there was a pit in your stomach that felt like butterflies when he grazed your thumb.

You sighed, pushing the thoughts out as you finally grabbed your keys, using the concrete-sanded floor push yourself back up off the ground.

Suddenly, you felt a cloth on your mouth and a hand covering your waist as your muffled screams filled the parking lot, trying to kick your attacker behind you.

You felt yourself drifting into the darkness as you screamed one last time,

And everything went black.

tags: @hysteriahall @avengersassemblee @lighttism @whereismymindnow @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @vi06ma01 @haven247 @vanessa-rafesgirl @blvebanisters @riordanness @aleidag1rly @muzanjackson22

[sunny44]

The lollipop

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of blowjob

Summary: Lando steals your lollipop.

The paddock was busier than usual this afternoon. The mechanics were rushing around adjusting the last details of the cars while the drivers were reviewing their strategies.

I was walking nonchalantly, licking my lollipop while observing the movement around me. Writing had always been my way of escaping the chaotic reality of racing, as there was always a moment when all the movement and bustle got too much but, at that moment, I was just enjoying the vibrant atmosphere.

I saw Lando chatting animatedly with some members of his team and decided to approach him. Lando always had a way of making the most tense moments seem light and fun. When he saw me approaching, a mischievous smile appeared on his face, making me suspicious.

"Hey, Y/n! What are you up to?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Nothing much, just enjoying the day and wandering around," I replied with a smile, my lollipop still in my mouth.

Lando stared at the lollipop for a moment, and before I could react, he plucked it out of my mouth and put it in his own.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, surprised and annoyed. "That's mine! It was literally in my mouth."

Lando smiled, his gaze full of mischief.

"Yeah, and? So was I this morning and in a lot of other days."

I felt my face heat up instantly and the staff started laughing and leaving us alone.

"You're impossible, did you really had to tell that I had your cock in my mouth this morning in front of everyone?" I muttered, trying to hide my embarrassment. But inside, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement. Lando always had this ability to put me off my guard and make me laugh at the same time.

He leaned a little closer, still licking my lollipop.

"Admit it, you like our dynamic, and I just hinted that you had my cock in your mouth, they don't have to believe me." he said, his tone playful but with a touch of sincerity. "Even if it was true."

I crossed my arms, trying to keep a serious expression.

"What if I say I don't like this dynamic?" Lando laughed, a light and infectious sound.

"Then I'll have to keep stealing your lollipops until you admit that you like me. And not just my sexy body."

I couldn't help but smile. "You're so childish," I said, rolling my eyes in an exaggerated way.

"Maybe," he replied, shrugging. "But you love it." He licked lollipop again and, before handing it back, looked straight into my eyes. "Do you want it back?"

"Of course I do, I paid for it," I replied, holding out my hand. Lando held the lollipop out of reach, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Only if you admit you like me." I sighed, knowing he wouldn't let me off the hook easily.

"All right, Lando. I like you. Now give it back."

He smiled, genuinely pleased, and reached up to put the lollipop near my mouth and when I opened it, he put it in.

"See? That wasn't so hard."

I took the lollipop, feeling his fingers rub against mine.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" I said, but with a smile that I couldn't hide.

Lando laughed again. "That may be, but I'm the idiot you like."

And as soon as I took the lollipop out of my mouth, he pulled me in and kissed me. It certainly felt like one of those movie kisses that makes you stop breathing and the butterflies in your stomach flutter like never before.

We had kissed before, but every time I had the same feeling of happiness.

"See you later?" He whispers with his lips still close to mine.

"Of course, we're sharing a room." He laughs and gives me one more kiss before going into the garage and leaving me smiling like a teenage girl after kissing the boy she likes.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername inatagram stories

“Who doesn’t love a lollipop.”

[lewisvinga]

born to die | fernando alonso x fem! reader

summary: after their engagement, y/n realized her and fernando may have different views of the future. it makes her wonder if they were really born to die.

warnings; age gap, cursing, angst/fluff

word count; 1.28k

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

note; and this is it u guyssss🥹 i enjoyed this series sm and i’m so thankful 4 everyone who read n enjoyed it<33 im gonna miss it sm but keep a look out for my next music f1 series 😁

‘born to die’ series masterlist !

masterlist !

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“But are you really ready to settle down?” Y/b/f asked Y/n during their biweekly brunch dates. The topic of marriage came about after due to Y/n started wedding planning a few months after being engaged.

Her best friend knew her more than anyone. They grew up together. So Y/b/f knows that Y/n never wanted to settle down so quickly. She knew that she wanted to spend her 20s having fun and completing her master's.

Marrying someone who is already in their 40s and wants to settle down as soon as possible meant there was a conflict between their futures.

“I mean, not yet.” Y/n sighed, grasping into the cup of tea as she shrugged. “I love Fernando, I do. I don’t want kids yet. I want to wait a few years and-“

“But does he know that? That’s a man who wants to settle down already and have a house in the countryside. That’s a man who wants children soon.” Y/b/f interrupted her, genuine concern written all over her face. “He’s a great guy and I love that he makes you happy but is that what you really want? Having kids means giving up a lot and you know that I know that.” She added about her own child. “And He just signed another contract with Aston Martin. If you do have kids, he won’t be around to help you much.”

Y/n let out a groan, running her hands over her face. “I was lost before I met him. I was so confused as a little child but he gave me a sense of meaning. I love Nando, I truly do. But It’s just,” She sighed. She looks out the window of the restaurant and watches busy people walking down the sidewalks. “Now that I think about it, we view the next 5 years completely differently.”

Y/b/f reaches out and grabs her hand, forcing Y/n to look back at her. “Just think about it, okay? I love you and I just want the absolute best for you.”

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Y/n sat on the top step of the front patio of her shared home with Fernando, staring out onto the gloomy skies. Despite it being sunny when she was at brunch, by the time she got home it was drizzling. However, the rain usually calmed her and in a moment where she was deep in her thoughts, she definitely needed to be calmed.

She was so lost in her thoughts of her future that she didn’t notice her fiancé’s Aston Martin pulling up to the driveway. The Spaniard was confused as to why his fiancée was sitting on the patio with a sad look on her face.

“What’s wrong, mi amor?” He asked. He sat down next to her and caressed her arm. Hearing the concern laced in his voice was the triggering act for her.

“Do you think this is the right time for us to get married?” Y/n asked, keeping her eyes on her fiddling fingers. She hears Fernando’s breath hitch as he sits up straight.

“Why do you think that?”

“Fernando, you’re older than me, like a lot older and-“

“You just noticed?” He asked in a teasing tone in hopes to lighten the mood a bit.

She just sighed in response and crossed her arms over her chest. “Fernando, we both have different views of the next 5 to 10 years and you know that. I’m still young. I want to go out and party and enjoy my life. I just started my master's degree. But I know you want to retire in a few years. I know you want to have kids as soon as possible and settle down. But I-“

Y/n takes a deep breath as she glances up at her fiancé. “I don’t want that. Not yet at least. Not until I finish my master's. I don’t want to settle down just yet. Y/b/f had to stop so many things when she had her son. It makes me wonder if we’re really meant to be. Maybe you and I, we were born to die.”

Fernando’s minute of silence made her heart drop. He looked like he was lost in his thoughts, similar to how she was moments prior. “What are you even talking about, Y/n? We were born to die? Come on, mi amor!” He exclaimed, standing up to his feet. Her eyebrows furrowed up as she copied him by also getting on her feet, ignoring how the rain began to come down harder.

“Maybe it’s true, Fernando!”

“It’s bullshit.” He let out a laugh as he ran his hand over his beard. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s bullshit. Yes, we’re different ages. The road gets tough, it happens and I don’t know why, but we carry on. That doesn’t mean we’re born to die. Come on!” He continued, his eyebrows furrowed up.

“Are you even listening-“

“I am and what you’re saying is bullshit like I said!” Fernando responds, taking a step closer to her. “Amor, yes, I want children. Yes, I dream of us one day living on the coasts of Spain with our kids but that doesn’t mean I want it right away. I want you to achieve your degree. I want you to enjoy yourself first because it’s not up to me when we have kids. It’s all you.”

“Yeah, but-“

“What do I have to do to prove this to you?”

Y/n raised her eyebrows in confusion as she tilted her head. “What do you mean ‘prove’ it to me?” She asked, confused by his words.

He takes a step back with a shrug. “Prove that I don’t care if you want to wait to have kids. Prove that I wanna marry you because I love you, not to settle down.”

“Well, you don’t need to prove-“ She pauses in her words when she sees him take a step down. She lets out a sigh, her hands falling to rest by her side. She knew immediately by the glint in his eyes what he wanted to do. “Fernando, no. You’re going to get sick.”

He takes another step down.

“Fernando, stop that!”

He takes one step back and is immediately met with the pouring rain. In seconds, his clothes and hair were drenched but he didn’t care. Not one bit.

“Fernando, come back! The longer you stay there the more likely you’ll be sick.” She scolded him but he simply smiled in reply.

“I’m not leaving unless you join me.”

Y/n crosses her arms, glaring at Fernando who keeps smiling. She let out a sigh of defeat as she took a couple steps down the stairs and made it out into the rain. He immediately pulls her close by her waist. She lets out a yelp and balances herself by holding onto his shoulders.

“I love you and I want to marry you, mi amor. I don’t mind waiting 5, 10, even 15 years for us to have kids and ‘settle’ down.” He loudly says over the sound of the rain hitting the pavement. “I just want you.”

She laughs in disbelief, resting her forehead against his chest. “We can figure it all out later, right?”

“It’s just you and me right now, mi amor,” Fernando says. He cups Y/n’s face with one hand, forcing her to look up. He took a second to admire her features and her messed-up makeup from the rain. He leans down, kissing her hard in the pouring rain. Her previous thoughts immediately washed away the moment she felt his lips on her. Maybe they weren’t born to die.

[littleredwing89]

FAMOUS [PART FOUR]

Bodyguard!Jason Todd x Singer!Reader

Summary: Roy leaned back, a grin plastered across his face. “Dude, they were totally gossiping about you. I mean, have you seen your arms? Of course they’re talking about you.”

Warnings: None. Girly banter. Innuendos. Teasing. Fun Roy & Jason.

A/N: And as promised, here is the next chapter 🥰🥰 sending all my love to you wonderful readers & please enjoy the next chapter - Elle xoxo

***

———

GIRL INTERRUPTED

———

The afternoon sun hung lazily in the sky, casting a warm glow over the garden complex as Jason moved around, lifting heavy boxes as if they weighed nothing. His muscles flexed with every move, the sun catching on his damp skin as sweat rolled down his temples. His hair, darkened with moisture, stuck to his forehead in a way that made him look effortlessly rugged.

Selina, lounging on a nearby chair with her sunglasses perched low on her nose, tilted her head, smirking. “That’s the guy you’ve been complaining about?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your gaze off Jason as he worked. “I didn’t complain about him that much.”

Ivy raised an eyebrow, her tone flat. “You spent at least an afternoon complaining about him.”

Harley snickered, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Yeah, you definitely plotted his accidental death.”

You crossed your arms defensively. “Not death.”

“Fine,” Ivy mused with a knowing smile. “Unalive-ment.”

“Yeah, that,” Harley agreed, her grin wide as she glanced between you and Jason, clearly enjoying your flustered state.

You shifted in your seat. “Well, I’m not anymore.”

Selina gave you a pointed look, her smirk growing wider. “Honey, have you seen him?”

Harley leaned in, conspiratorial. “Does he provide anything other than security?”

Ivy, never missing a beat, added, “Sex-curity,” her lips curling into a smirk.

You nearly choked on your drink, glaring at Ivy as you sputtered. “He makes pancakes, that’s all.”

Harley’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Before or after the deed?”

“No deed has been done!” you snapped, the heat creeping up your neck and to your face.

Ivy’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “The blush on your face says otherwise.”

You shot her a look, your cheeks burning. “I’m not blushing!”

Selina cackled, leaning back in her chair with an air of superiority. “Of course you’re not, babe. That’s just… red face paint.”

“Why do you all hate me?” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“We don’t,” Selina replied with a grin. “You just look adorable when you have a crush.”

You shot up in your seat, flustered. “I don’t have a crush! It’s just a work relationship.”

Harley patted your shoulder sympathetically. “It’s okay, sweetie. We get it.”

Ivy leaned forward, her gaze playful. “Don’t 80% of relationships spark in the workplace?”

Selina adjusted her sunglasses, her smirk never fading. “If he lived with me, I wouldn’t be spending my time fighting it.”

You huffed, crossing your arms again. “Well, he’s kind of an ass.”

“How so?” Harley asked, genuinely curious.

You waved your hands over your head dramatically. “Y’know…”

“Sweetie, I don’t,” Harley said, her confusion obvious as she blinked up at you.

You waved your hands more, as if that would clarify things. “He’s just… y’know!”

Selina laughed, shaking her head. “What you’re feeling is sexual tension, babe.”

“Sexual what now?” you muttered under your breath, clearly flustered.

“You should work it out with him,” Selina added, her voice dripping with amusement.

Ivy, ever the instigator, tilted her head towards the garden. “Oh, look, he’s coming over here.”

Your eyes widened in panic as you frantically fixed your hair, heart racing.

“Just kidding,” Ivy teased, smirking at your reaction.

You let out a breath, glaring at her. “Ha-ha-ha. Can we please stop talking about this?”

“I think you’d be cute together,” Harley said, her voice sing-song as she gave you a sly grin.

Selina raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking to Jason, who was still lifting boxes in the sun. “He clearly has a soft spot for you. He can’t stop looking at you.”

You froze for a moment, a tiny spark of hope flickering inside you. “You think he likes me?” The words left your mouth before you could stop them, sounding almost… hopeful.

But before your friends could say anything, you caught yourself, straightening up. “Wait—of course he’s looking at me. He’s doing his job. Protecting me.”

Ivy leaned in, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. “What would you do if this wasn’t just a professional relationship?”

“I—I…” you stammered, suddenly unsure of yourself.

Harley giggled, elbowing you playfully. “You guys are totally gonna fall in love.”

Selina gave you a knowing smirk. “That’ll be great. When you two fall in love, the media will finally stop insinuating you and Sionis are a thing.”

Ivy’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Care to wager how long it’ll take?”.

You threw your hands up, exasperated. “I’m right here, y’know.”

Harley tilted her head, pretending to think. “Three months, max.”

Ivy leaned back, studying you carefully. “They seem like the slow burn type.”

Selina, her eyes still on Jason, watched as he stacked the final box and stood to stretch. “Nah,” she drawled, her voice playful. “Y/N won’t be able to resist those muscles.”

“Shhh!” you hissed, panic rising in your chest. “He’s going to hear you!”.

But it was too late. Jason, now aware of all of you staring at him, turned to face your little group. He blinked in confusion, his face flushing slightly as he quickly looked away, clearly bashful.

Jason muttered something under his breath as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I need Roy.”

Selina leaned over, whispering conspiratorially. “I don’t think you’ll need to wait three months after all.”

————

Later that evening, Jason found himself at the local bar, nursing a drink while Roy leaned against the bar, a teasing grin on his face. Jason had been reasonably happy to leave you at home tonight, especially since the girls had chosen to crash at yours, having a pamper and movie night with you. Selina frightened him more than Bruce sometimes. You’d be safe.

“Hey, brooding bird! What’s got you all mopey?” Roy asked, nudging Jason with his elbow.

“Nothing,” Jason muttered, taking a swig of his drink.

Roy raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Right. Just like I’m ��nothing’ when I wear these tight spandex shorts, huh?”

Jason groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Can you not? I’m serious.”

“Fine, fine! But you can’t just sit there looking all tortured without telling me what’s going on. It’s against the bro code,” Roy insisted, mock-serious.

Jason shot him a glare. “What I really need is a time machine to go back to when I didn’t care about—”

“Whoa, wait. Are you actually talking about feelings? Like, real ones?” Roy interrupted, eyes wide with mock horror. “This is better than reality TV!”

“I’m not talking about feelings, dammit! It’s just that… I think the girls were gossiping about me,” Jason said, the frustration creeping into his voice.

Roy leaned closer, excitement glinting in his eyes. “Oh, do tell! Who’s gossiping? Is it Ivy? She seems like the type to always knows the juiciest details!”

“No, it’s not Ivy. It’s…” Jason hesitated, glancing around as if the walls had ears. “It’s Y/N.”

Roy’s expression morphed into a knowing smirk. “You mean the one you’re totally not crushing on?”

“I’m not crushing!” Jason snapped, his cheeks flushing.

Roy cackled. “Oh, it’s even better than I thought! You are totally crushing. What did they say?”

“I don’t know!” Jason groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I just saw them looking at me and whispering. It was… weird.”

Roy leaned back, a grin plastered across his face. “Dude, they were totally gossiping about you. I mean, have you seen your arms? Of course they’re talking about you.”

“I hate you,” Jason grumbled, but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips.

“Come on, lighten up! Just own it! You’re the guy they’re gossiping about. It’s like being a celebrity. You should be flattered!” Roy encouraged, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably.

“Flattered? More like mortified,” Jason retorted.

“Mortified or not, it’s too late now. You’re the star of their show,” Roy laughed, raising his drink in a mock toast. “To Jason! The man, the myth, the rumoured crush!”

Jason groaned again, burying his face in his hands once more. “I’m never telling you anything ever again.”

Roy just chuckled, clearly enjoying this far too much. “Too late for that! Now, when’s the date?”

“No date!” Jason protested, shaking his head vehemently.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, Romeo. I’ll just be over here, waiting for the ‘I can’t believe we kissed!’ call,” Roy teased, winking.

Jason couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head as he downed the rest of his drink. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah, but you love me for it,” Roy replied with a grin, raising his glass once more.

As they left the bar, Jason couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, things might not be so bad after all.

***

[nightwriter357]

Just friends

Okay so this is my attempt at actually writing a real slow-burn romance where they don't just jump each other right away. So obviously so smut in this one.

You are Damien and Shayne's roommate, navigating the ups and downs of life and love. Hope you enjoy 💜

I want something just like this

You walked out of your room to the kitchen, Damien and Shayne were sat on the coach. You had been roommates for almost two years now and you always had fun together, whether you were out with friends or just chilling on the couch and you really needed it today.

Shayne turned his head, "Hey, you going out?"

You gave him a skeptical look and gestured towards your PJs, "does it look like I am?"

Damien turned around and looked at you, "you could go out like that."

"Yeah, right," you replied, reaching for a chocolate bar from the cupboard. Comfort food was the best remedy for your mood.

Shayne got up, stretching his arms. “We can totally wait if you want to get ready.” His smile was genuine, but you could see a hint of concern flickering in his eyes.

You sighed, "No, I'm good today. I just want to hang out here" you plopped down on the couch next to Damien, "maybe watch some bad movies."

Damien removed his jacket and leaned back, a playful grin spreading across his face. “You know that is a very tempting offer.”

Shayne raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “There wasn’t any offer, though.”

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you held the chocolate bar out in front of Damien’s face. “I’m officially offering.” The idea of not being alone tonight felt comforting.

Damien’s eyes darted between you and Shayne, then he took a bite of the bar, a smirk playing at his lips. “Sorry, dude. Like I said, very tempting offer.”

Shayne pretended to be heartbroken, but it didn’t last long. He grabbed his keys off the dresser, the sound clinking in the quiet apartment.

You pulled a blanket over yourself, grinning. “Give my best to Courtney.” You made exaggerated kissy faces at him.

He shook his head, laughing. “There are going to be other people there, you know?”

Damien echoed your expression, teasing Shayne. “Not like you’re gonna notice.”

Shayne opened the door, throwing a cheeky middle finger back at you both before stepping out, the door clicking shut behind him.

You leaned back on the couch, laughter bubbling up between you. Turning your head, you said, “Thanks for staying.”

He let out a small laugh, looking down before meeting your gaze again. “Like I said…”

You finished the sentence with him, a smile forming. “Very tempting offer.”

Damien leaned back, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “So.. what type of bad movies are you thinking?”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his question. “There are different types?”

His enthusiasm was infectious, and he nodded vigorously. “Oh, definitely. There’s the ‘so bad it’s good’ category.”

You laughed, already picturing some infamous films. “Like ‘The Room’ or anything by Neil Breen?”

“Exactly!” he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Then there’s the charmingly bad movies.”

You smirked, recalling your own cringe-worthy moments. “Like watching someone’s high school film project?”

“Yeah, and then there’s the ‘so mediocre it’s bad’ films,” he continued, gesturing animatedly. “Or you have such high expectations that it feels really disappointing, but could be good on a rewatch.” You nodded, as he continued. “And the worst is when you think it’s good because of nostalgia, but it’s actually very bad.”

“Wow, they’re all very tempting offers,” you replied, a playful grin spreading across your face. “There are also the movies that have just aged really badly.”

“True,” Damien said, recalling a few painful examples. “Like a ‘Shallow Hal’ type of film.”

Your eyes lit up, and you leaned forward with excitement. “Ooooh, let’s do ‘Shallow Hal.’ I have such a crush on Jack Black!”

Damien raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile forming. “Really? Wait—no, I feel like I get it.”

You started the movie and sat on opposite sides of the couch with your legs meeting in the middle. You still felt a bit sad but Damien's company was almost healing. You could just sit here and be quiet if you wanted to, talk and laugh through the movie and probably even cry and have a mental breakdown and he would still stay, smiling at you, from his end of the couch.

A scene began to play, Jack Black was dancing with a group of women on screen, his energy infectious.

“Do you think that would help?” you asked, nodding toward the screen.

Damien looked over, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “What’s up?”

You took a breath, contemplating your words. “If I learned how to dance, do you think it could help me find someone?”

He chuckled, a teasing glint in his gaze. “I think you’d have to be a pretty bad dancer for that to matter at all.”

You crossed your arms, feigning annoyance. “I think I could be quite good, you know. I read this thing about how you just do the numbers 1-10 with your hips.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “You saw it on TikTok, right?”

“Yeah, but shut up, it had captions!” you retorted, laughter bubbling up.

“Okay, show me the moves then,” he challenged, a playful grin on his face.

“Okay, I will! But you can't be seduced by this, remember? We’re friends. Any sexual energy oozing from me is unintentional.” You gave him a mock-serious look.

“Oh really? Is it just the oozing when you dance or all your normal oozing as well?” His tone was teasing, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I never intentionally ooze!” you shot back, placing a hand against you chest.

You started with the 1, demonstrating a trust forward with a little wiggle at the end. “This is the 1,” you explained, your hips moving in rhythm.

“Okay, I see it,” he replied, a grin spreading across his face.

“For the 2, you start out in the front, gliding through the number,” feeling more confident.

As you attempted the 3, you nearly lost your balance, laughter spilling out between you. “Whoa!” Damien exclaimed, clutching his stomach as he doubled over.

The 4 nearly sent him over the edge with laughter as you seemingly forgot what the number looked like in the middle of the movement.

“The 5 is similar, but this time...” You tried to demonstrate, but Damien ended up falling over, his laughter echoing in the room.

“Hey, is the ooze getting to you?” you teased, barely holding back your own giggles.

“Yeah, I’m completely powerless,” he admitted, pretending to fan himself dramatically.

You let your hips swing in a circle before bringing them forward, confidently declaring, “And this is the number 6. I feel like this one is actually good,”

Damien nodded in approval as he shot you a playful glance. “You know, I feel like these would all be better if you did something with the rest of your body. Like your arms are just hanging at your sides.”

“Oh, you mean like this?” you asked, raising your arms as you moved your hips into the shape of a 7.

“Yeah, that’s more like it!” he said, a gleam of encouragement in his eyes.

You laughed as you attempted the 8, managing to get stuck in the movement like a loop.

“Did you just get stuck in the 8?” he asked, amusement evident in his tone.

You continued to let your hips swing. “I think so. I don’t think I can stop,” you replied, unable to suppress your laughter.

“It is fitting; it’s shaped like an infinity sign, after all,” he said, smirking.

“Maybe I can just do a smooth transition into the 9,” you said, focusing on breaking free from the loop.

As you gathered your focus, you prepared for the last move. “And now for the 10!” you declared, shifting your weight and attempting to incorporate a final flourish. You wiggled your hips dramatically, throwing your arms out in a final pose.

Damien clapped, his laughter echoing in the room. “Wow! That was something.”

With a playful bow, you let your arms drop and returned to the couch, the blanket falling back into place around you. Even though the movie was silly and severely outdated parts of it made you think, what do I have to offer anyone?

Maybe that’s why I’m single,” you muttered, the playful mood shifting slightly.

Damien looked over, his brow furrowing in concern. “What do you mean?”

You leaned back into the couch, feeling a mix of self-deprecation and humor. “I don’t know how to cook, I don’t know how to dance. I’m just a big bag of potatoes.”

Damien chuckled, a playful glint in his eye as he leaned closer. “Hey, potatoes are actually a very good source of nutrients. They’re versatile, long-lasting, dependable.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips. “Okay, so your response to that isn’t ‘no, of course you’re not a bag of potatoes’? It’s just a celebration of potatoes?”

He shrugged, unfazed, with a teasing grin. “Well, I like potatoes.”

You laughed, shaking your head at his unexpected enthusiasm. “Yeah, I got that.”

His grin widened, and you could see he was genuinely trying to lighten the mood. “Seriously, though. Being a bag of potatoes isn’t the worst thing. They’re pretty great! You're pretty great”

You couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to reassure you. " I wish more people saw me like you do."

Damien leaned in, his expression sincere. "So it is about that guy you were seeing? That's why you've been in PJs eating chocolate for days?"

Feeling a warmth spread through you, you nodded slowly, grateful for his support. “Yeah, I'm just trying to figure it out, you know?”

He nodded reassuringly, "go on."

"You know how everyone has that ‘worst person they ever dated’? Do you think I’m someone’s worst?” You asked, your voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and insecurity.

Damien paused, caught off guard by the weight of your question. His brows furrowed slightly, as if he were contemplating something. “Honestly? No,” he replied, his tone steady and sincere.

“Really? How can you be so sure?” You leaned forward with a smirk, intrigued by his certainty.

He met your gaze, a soft smile creeping onto his lips. “I can’t imagine you being anything less than someone’s best"

You looked down, fiddling with the blanket as your voice softened. “Wow, thank you.” you could feel a tear forming, " I think I've just been feeling like a worthless piece of shit lately"

"Hey" he leaned in pulling you into a hug, your face resting on his chest as he stroked your hair. "He is obviously an idiot."

You hugged him tightly, "I know, it shouldn't be that hard to be with someone."

He drew circles of your back with his finger, "You're absolutely right, it should be easy, like this"

You closed your eyes for a second as he held onto you, "yeah, I want something just like this"

Damien's breath hitched for a brief second, and you noticed a flicker of something in his eyes—it looked almost like disappointment. He held your gaze for a moment longer, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Yeah.”

You took a breath, feeling the connection between you. “Thanks for being such a good friend,” you said softly.

[extinctlesspains]

hiii i love your writing!! what about terry silver's daughter reader and sensei wolf? 👀 some tension and flirty rivalry could be fun 😳 thank you so much!

𝑆𝑖𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝐿𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑆𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑖 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓

𝐵𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠

»»——⍟——««

»»——⍟——««

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑆𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑖 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒.

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑇𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑆𝑖𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑆𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑖 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓 𝑛𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑦, 𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓 𝑠𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑠𝑘 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑎 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑇𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔.

𝐵𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑: 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑆𝑖𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟! 𝑇𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑒𝑘𝑎𝑖 𝑇𝑎𝑖𝑘𝑎𝑖!

■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■

The dojo gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, every surface polished to a pristine shine. It was a reflection of Terry Silver’s vision—order, discipline, perfection. You leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, watching Sensei Wolf spar with one of the more advanced students.

Wolf’s movements were sharp and calculated, a mixture of power and fluidity that commanded attention. His strikes landed with precision, and his footwork was deliberate. He radiated confidence—too much confidence, if you were being honest.

He caught your gaze mid-spin kick, smirking as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. The audacity of that smirk made your fingers itch to wipe it off his face.

"Enjoying the show, princess?" Wolf asked, stepping back as the student staggered to his feet. He tossed a towel over his shoulder, his tone teasing but laced with challenge.

"Hardly," you replied, pushing off the wall. Your arms remained crossed as you approached him, refusing to let him see how much his presence unsettled you. "I’ve seen better form from a beginner class."

Wolf chuckled, the sound low and irritatingly smooth. "And yet, here you are. Front and center. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you couldn’t get enough of me."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Don’t flatter yourself. Someone has to make sure you don’t embarrass the Iron Dragons legacy with your sloppy technique."

He tilted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "Sloppy? That’s rich coming from someone who hasn’t stepped onto the mat all day."

You stepped closer, your chin tilted defiantly. "Maybe because I don’t waste my time showing off for an audience."

His smirk deepened, and he took a deliberate step into your space. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, his presence overwhelming in a way that made your pulse quicken.

"Showing off?" His voice dropped, quiet but sharp as a blade. "If you want a demonstration, all you have to do is ask."

Before you could respond, your father’s voice rang out from his office.

"Wolf! Y/n! Quit standing around and get back to work."

The moment shattered, the tension retreating like a wave. Wolf stepped back, his smirk never wavering as he picked up his water bottle.

"Looks like Daddy’s watching," he said, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "Wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would we?"

You glared at him, your hands curling into fists. "Careful, Wolf. Keep pushing, and I might decide to show you what sloppy technique really looks like."

"I’d like to see you try," he replied, his tone playful but his eyes dark with challenge.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of training and frustration. Wolf’s voice seemed to follow you everywhere, throwing out comments that were just shy of crossing the line.

By the time the dojo emptied, you were ready to leave. But as you grabbed your bag, Wolf appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame.

"Heading out already?" he asked, his smirk replaced with something softer, more genuine.

"Unless you have another sparring session lined up," you replied, hoisting your bag onto your shoulder.

"Actually, I was thinking..." He scratched the back of his neck, a rare hesitation creeping into his voice. "How about a truce?"

You raised an eyebrow. "A truce?"

"Yeah." He stepped closer, his usual confidence tempered with something more earnest. "No biting remarks, no flirty jabs—just one evening where we don’t drive each other crazy."

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. "And what exactly does this ‘truce’ entail?"

"A date." He met your gaze, his smirk returning, but this time it was softer, less cocky. "Dinner, maybe. No dojo, no Sekai Taikai. Just us."

You studied him for a moment, searching for any hint of a joke. But there was none—just a quiet vulnerability that made your heart skip.

"Alright," you said finally, a small smile tugging at your lips. "But don’t think this means I’m going easy on you in the dojo."

"Wouldn’t dream of it," he replied, his smirk widening into a genuine grin.

As you walked out together, the tension between you shifted, no longer sharp and combative but something warmer, something new. For the first time, you found yourself looking forward to seeing where this rivalry might lead.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Bad Day, Bad Week, Bad Month

David Howard Thornton x Y/N - drabble - 943 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, mention of self harm, depression, sweet bf, 1000% based on true events of how my week has gone, enjoy munchkins <3

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

You laid on the floor doing nothing but staring at the ceiling. The only light in the room coming from one of your salt lamps in the corner, casting an orange glow throughout the living room. The pitter patter of the rain on the windows echoed throughout the house. You heard the door open and shut but made no move to get up. 

“Hun?” you heard David call out as his steps got closer to the living room. “Having fun down there?” he asked, leaning on the back of the couch.

“Bad day. Bad week. Bad month.” you sighed.

David could see it, the exhaustion on your face. How the bags under your eyes had gotten darker, how your skin looked paler than normal, how your usually bubbly self was completely defeated. He felt bad, he had been visiting different conventions to finish promoting Terrifier 3. He tried to call most days but with the time differences and schedule conflicts you were both lucky if your texts got to each other.

“Don’t do that.” you said, eyes finally shifting to him. “Don’t feel bad or blame yourself.” you didn’t want to see the pity on his face.

David kicked his shoes off towards the front door before sitting criss-cross next to you. He gently held one of your hands, tracing over your fingers deftly. “Wanna tell me about it?” he asked, genuinely wanting to comfort you. 

You sighed, sitting up a bit to sit across from him. “I got laid off last month and haven’t found a new job yet. I have spent all the money I have on bills and have no idea how I’m going to pay for anything next month. Yesterday my fucking tire popped and of course its one of the tires that I didn’t get insured like the back two so I had to call family in tears to ask them for help and that was like $210. Just sobbing in a tire store. Oh! And I got denied from being able to sell plasma to make a bit of money because of a treatment I had 10 years ago that even my doctor said is long out of my system and wouldn’t affect anything. Everything just… sucks.” you rambled on, you don’t remember when you started crying but you were. 

David pulled you into his chest, letting you cry as he held you close. “Baby why didn’t you tell me about anything?” 

“I don’t want to depend on you. I don’t want people to think I’m some gold digger if we ever went public. I’m an adult and I’m supposed to have my shit together.” you said, sounding incredibly harsh towards yourself.

“I understand all that but life is life and it happens. There is nothing wrong with asking for help.” he said, kissing the top of your head.

“There is a difference between asking for a cup of sugar kind of help and asking for financial help.” you said.

David knew you had issues with trust and money. When you two started dating it took a solid 6 months before you let him pay for dinner. He has always tried to work within the confines of your anxiety, but right now? There was no room to work within, you were just going to have to trust him. 

“I know you don’t want it, but I’d like to help you. I don’t like seeing you in pain and this stress I guarantee is making your depression and anxiety worse.” he said before his eyes widened slightly, “Have you…” he trailed off quietly but you knew what he was asking.

You averted your eyes, “It was days ago, I’m fine. I don’t want to die, I just needed something else to focus on.” you mumbled, curling into him as you tried to hide away. 

David’s arms tightened around you. He knew you struggled with self harm and had been doing better with it but it wasn’t an overnight battle and he knew that. He made sure not to rub against your upper thighs as he knew that's where you typically did it. Your sobs had turned to sniffles by now and David could feel how tired you were. Your tense muscles finally unwinding in his grasp. “Hey,” he said, turning your cheek to face him and caressing it as he spoke. “Why don’t we have a shower then we can order some take out, whatever you want. And I have a little surprise for you,”

You quirked your eyebrow at him, not having a clue what it could be.

“I have a copy of Terrifer 3, Damien and I are the only ones with copies. Very hush hush.” he said, making you giggle. Finally, a sweet sound escaping you that he had missed so dearly. “Does all of that sound like an acceptable plan?” he asked with a smirk. 

“Quite satisfactory.” you said, smiling at him before finally indulging in a kiss that you both had longed for. You shifted in his lap, moving your legs to straddle him so the both of you were more comfortable. However, as you felt David’s strong hands caress over your hips and up to your sides you felt a heat take over you that you had craved while he was away. Only he could make you feel like this. “Here, bed, or shower?” you breathed against his lips.

“Shower.” he said gruffly before you bolted for the bathroom, shrieking with excitement as he chased you. Everything was always better when he was with you, he just had that effect. And you want to relish in it as long as you can. 

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

Naboo's Note:

BACK FROM THE DEAD!!!!! I hope you all enjoy this one, have a good day my precious babies. Life is still fucking me with no lube so posting might be a little irregular as I am starting my new job on Monday. Thank you all for the support and patience. XOXOXOX!!!!!!

[chaoticrockmusic]

A Taste of Spice

Synopsis; While cooking jambalaya together, Remy and you share playful banter, a little dancing, and a growing connection simmering as warmly as the dish on the stove. With every shared glance and teasing touch, the flirtation turns into something deeper, until one kiss finally seals the promise of what could be.

Warnings; None, enjoy kits! ♡♡♡

Requested by @hulkingharbor

The scent of spices fills the kitchen as Remy guides you through the ingredients for jambalaya, his Cajun accent thicker than usual, adding to the warmth in the room. He's leaning close, too, his arm brushing yours as he reaches for the chopped bell peppers, a lazy grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You keep stirrin’ it like that, chérie, we’re gonna end up with mush,” he teases, eyes gleaming with playful mischief.

Rolling your eyes, you hand him the spoon. “All right, show me, Mr. Expert.”

He takes it, giving the pot a confident stir, his hands moving with an ease you can’t help but admire. “See? It’s all about finesse,” he says, glancing at you. “But I guess that just comes natural to some of us.”

You laugh, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Finesse, huh? Next time, I’ll let you chop the onions with that ‘finesse’ you’re so proud of.”

He chuckles, eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. “Now, now, don’t get jealous, chère. Tell you what—if you chop the next round, I’ll let you have the first taste.”

“Deal,” you say, sliding him a sly smile as you reach for the knife. As you start chopping, you can feel his gaze lingering, warm and appreciative.

When the jambalaya is finally simmering, he takes a spoonful and offers it to you, his gaze softening as he waits for your reaction. You take a taste, savoring the rich, spicy flavor.

“It’s perfect,” you say, smiling. “Must be that ‘finesse’ of yours.”

He raises a brow, pleased. “Or maybe it’s just the company.”

Remy grins, his gaze holding yours for a beat longer than usual. Then he sets the spoon down, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, studying you with an intensity that makes your heart skip.

“Y’know,” he says, his voice low, “this ain’t half as fun when I cook alone.”

You glance up, feeling your cheeks warm. “Is that right? I didn’t know cooking could be so… entertaining.”

He laughs, the sound soft and smooth. “Depends on the company, chérie.” His hand reaches out, a little smudge of flour on his finger, and before you realize it, he dabs it gently on the tip of your nose, his grin widening as he watches your reaction.

“Remy!” You laugh, reaching for a dish towel to swipe at him, but he sidesteps with a fluid ease, his laugh deep and genuine.

“Don’t worry,” he says, still chuckling, “I’ll make it up to you. How ’bout a dance while we wait?” He extends his hand, his fingers warm and inviting, his eyes glinting with that playful, dare-you look.

You hesitate, glancing at the stove where the jambalaya simmers, but something in his gaze is too hard to resist. So, you take his hand, and he pulls you close, his other hand settling comfortably on your waist.

With a practiced grace, Remy leads you in a slow sway across the kitchen, his hand never leaving yours, his eyes locked on yours like you’re the only person in the room. For once, there’s no playful teasing, just a quiet sincerity that catches you off guard.

“You’ve got a good rhythm, chère,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Feels like I could dance with you all night.”

Your breath catches, and before you can think twice, you lean in, your lips brushing his cheek, then lingering at the corner of his mouth. Remy’s breath hitches, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on your waist, his gaze falling to your lips.

For a moment, the kitchen fades away, and it’s just the two of you, close, warm, and wrapped in the quiet promise of something more.

“Hope you like spicy,” he murmurs, his voice a soft rumble against your skin.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” you whisper back, smiling as he finally closes the distance, his kiss as warm and full of sweetness as the jambalaya simmering on the stove.

(I fuckin love Remy)

[ineedhaikyu]

Chapter Three

Summary: Inarizaki boys reacting to their manager admitting her crush on Karasuno’s ace, Asahi Azumane

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Short fic but still fun to write. Atsumu is a little meanie in this but I still love him. He’s just a goofball sometimes. Some characters are a little OOC but I hope it’s okay for the sake of the story. A/N: Next post will be a headcanon about the Inarizaki vs Karasuno match because I’m not great at writing action scenes. Hope you still enjoy it. Happy reading!

~

“I think… He’s the one.”

As the words left her lips, (Y/N) knew they were true. She genuinely felt a connection towards the opposing team’s ace. Never before had she felt this warm feeling at this level with anyone else like they were with Asahi. 

To all the boys before him, she did try to see if those feelings were hidden or at the very least present. In her eyes, every guy, minus the Miya twins, who tried to ask her out only showed her their best side. The side where they can take pride in, all the while hiding the side they didn’t want her to see. Obviously, she knew they had their reasons but every time she explained to them it was okay to have faults they didn’t want to listen. It was as if holding their macho pride took priority. 

Or how sometimes they didn’t see her as more than a girl with a pretty face. She hated guys like that. Unlucky Schmuck #3 was the very definition of a shallow person. He was the captain and ace of the basketball team who’s only real interest in her was her chest size and boosting his popularity. When she declined him, he became upset and dared to ask a question that solidified her decision was the right choice: Why wouldn’t you go out with me?! I’m the ace! 

Those were just some of the reasons why she liked Asahi. He was honest with his feelings. He’s brave enough to admit his faults and maintain so humble while carrying the title of ace. His presence was so comforting and soothing. Like a warm ray of sunshine breaking over the horizon. 

“Aww, look at her.” Atsumu teased, his fingers pinching her cheek. “Our manager-senpai is in love. Who would have thought?”

(Y/N) smirked, her hand making its way to pinch Atsumu’s cheek. “What? You thought I was going to stay single forever?”

“Ack! No! Of course not…” The setter said unconvincingly, his eyes gleaming in mischief. “Ow! Quit hurting me!”

She pinched his cheek one final time before letting go. “But really, Asahi is a sweet guy.”

“Oh yeah, he looks really lovable.” Osamu peered over her shoulder to look at Karasuno’s ace. “You do know we’re not going to go easy on them just because you like him, right?”

“Like hell we are!” Atsumu exclaimed as he crossed his arms. “I got to show that Goody-Two Shoes a lesson about setting.”

(Y/N)’s jaw dropped and mocked a hurt expression on her face. “I wouldn’t ask you guys to do that. Everyone worked hard to get here. Nationals isn’t the place to take it easy.” 

Suna fixed his jersey into his shorts. “So… When’s the first date?”

“He’s not her boyfriend!” The twins interrupted in unison.

“Geez, announce it to the whole stadium, why don’t you? Maybe I should get the announcer’s microphone to help.” (Y/N) said, her words dripping in sarcasm.

The middle blocker smirked at his manager’s quick retort before returning to his previous question, “That being said, will there be a date?”

“No way.” Osamu cuts in. “It’s too soon. They barely met yesterday.”

“And our senpai only deserves the best. Not some nameless ace from a forgotten powerhouse.” Atsumu huffed as he crossed his arms.

“This is why you’re the evil twin.”

“What?!” 

“That’s true.”

“Shut up, Suna!”

(Y/N) smiled at the second-years. They always made her day a bit more interesting since they first met. But sometimes, they can be a bit much. Especially before matches. 

“As much as I love you guys being protective and all, I can make my own choices. I’m not the type of girl that would fall for any guy.”

“That’s true.” Suna jutted out a thumb at the twins. “You were smart enough to dodge these two.” 

“Hey!” They yelled, glaring at the smirking middle blocker.

“Oh, they’re not that bad. Anyone would be lucky to have them as their boyfriend.” (Y/N) began as she patted both twin’s backs. Her words seeped into the brothers’ core as they puffed out their chest in pride. Until she spoke, “But they’re still idiots.”

Once the idiot remark registered in their brains, the twins quickly reacted while Suna cracked another grin. 

“How could you say that, (Y/N)-san?!” 

“He’s more of an idiot than I am!”

“Oi! At least I don’t steal her food when she’s not looking!”

“So? She says she doesn’t mind.”

As Atsumu and Osamu continued to argue, the manager and the middle blocker watched from the sidelines. With the twins now moving on to personal insults, the rest of the team decided to join the watch party.

“Why are they fighting?” Akagi, the libero, asked as he and Omimi walked up to her.

“I call them idiots.” (Y/N) simply stated with a smile on her lips. “Now they’re trying to prove who’s the bigger idiot.”

“The fight could go on forever.” Omimi’s deep voice pointed out but made no effort to stop them.

“You didn’t answer my question, (Y/N)-san.” Suna whispered. “Is there a date with you and that Karasuno guy in the future?”

She smiled at him as she could see the care in Suna’s eyes and hear the amount of worry that laced his words. Her mind couldn’t help but wonder on what would happen if she and Asahi were to go on a date. If he were to ask her out, she undoubtedly would say yes but there’s that small voice of doubt that would say: This is too good to be true. So much so that it has to be a dream…

“I don’t know, Suna. I think it’s too soon to tell.” (Y/N) took the chance to look at Asahi across the gym. His back was towards her but it was as though he could sense her eyes on him as he turned around. His eyes locked with hers and once again she felt herself get goosebumps. “I guess we’ll see.”

Suna narrowed his eyes at his manager. During the two years he’s known (Y/N), he has never seen her like this before with a guy. While this Asahi guy looks… Suspicious to say the least, if he can make her happy then that’s fine by him.

“Take it from me, (Y/N)-senpai, when a guy likes a girl, he makes the effort to get to know her… Those moments with her… Will mean a lot to him. If you feel the same way as he does, don’t be scared. Go for it and see where the relationship takes you one step at a time.”

Out of any of the players on their team, Suna was the last person she would suspect of giving out meaningful relationship advice. Though, she couldn’t say it completely surprised her. The middle blocker has always been the observant type. 

She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, Suna. I needed to hear that.”

“No problem. Guess my sister’s girly magazines do work, huh?”

(Y/N) gasped before playfully punching him. “And here I was thinking you’re my favorite second-year.”

“I still am.” Suna chuckled. “But whatever happens, I hope your boyfriend knows how lucky he is to catch your eye.”

“Aww Suna… You care for me.”

“The whole team cares for you.”

With that being said and done, the middle blocker left and (Y/N) smiled as his words were true. 

The first-years, though nervous, would always help her with trivial chores. The second-years never failed to bring any silly shenanigans to the table but she had to admire their dedication to the sport. Finally, her fellow third-years, the ones that have been by her side since the very first practice, have given her a high school experience that she’ll remember fondly. Despite their motto saying that they didn’t need the memories, (Y/N) will always cherish the moments she spent with the Inarizaki volleyball team.

“(Y/N)-san.”

“Hey, Aran. Oh, Kita-san, you’re done with the interview? How did it go?”

Kita unzipped his maroon jacket before he spoke, “It went well. How are things here?”

“Besides the twins arguing.” Aran laughed. 

The trio of third years walked to the nearby bench where two black jerseys, #1 and #4, were placed. 

“Everything is ready to go.” (Y/N) answered as her two friends removed their normal shirts. She passed each of them their respective shirts. “And the twins are just… Extra motivated to play.”

“Oh?” Aran raised his eyebrows. “Any special reason why?”

“Well… There’s this guy I met yesterday…”

“WHO?!” The Inarizaki’s ace all but shouted, attracting the attention from everyone on the team. 

“Aran, lower your voice.” Kita instructed. 

But the ace only looked at his captain as if he was a crazy mental patient. “How can you be so calm, Kita? Did she tell you already?”

The silver-haired stoic captain shook his head. “(Y/N) didn’t tell me anything, but I can tell something was going on. I just didn’t know it was because of a guy.”

“Who is he? Do we know him?” Aran interrogated.

(Y/N) retold her story on how she met with Karasuno’s ace to her friends. The butterflies in her stomach revived once more when she was at the part of the story where she secretly gave Asahi her phone number. When she finished, she waited for their response.

Aran was the first to react. 

“Wow. I didn’t know you had it in you, (Y/N). This guy must be crazy good to impress you.”

“It’s not just that. You’ll see when you play against him.” (Y/N) told them as she fiddled with the zipper of her maroon jacket. “He’s not like anyone I’ve met.”

Kita smiled at her. The two of them have shared the same classes since the first day of high school so he knows that (Y/N) wouldn’t fall for any guy, no matter how persuasive or charming he can be. But it seems this Asahi guy wasn’t like that at all. In fact, he sounded like the complete opposite a girl would go for… At least, that’s what he assumes. But he wasn’t going to question his manager’s choice. Like (Y/N) said, he’ll see for himself what Karasuno’s ace is like. 

“I trust you, (Y/N).” 

“Yeah, me too, (Y/N).” Aran joined. “I can’t wait to see what this guy is made of.”

Before she could even utter a word, Coach Kurosu announced it was time. Everyone quickly huddled together for their usual pep talk. (Y/N) took a quick head count before gathering her stuff. When she came back, everyone looked more determined than ever. 

“What’s-”

“Alright! Let’s go show Karasuno what Nationals is all about! Let’s go win this!” Aran shouted.

“Yeah!” Everyone shouted back.

“And show that their ace is out of his league to flirt with (Y/N)-senpai!” Atsumu added.

“YEAH!!!” 

If she didn’t have her hands full, (Y/N) would have facepalmed at her teammates’ method of a pep talk. It would have been considered embarrassing if it wasn’t so endearing to see how much they cared for her. Besides, she’s never seen them so determined like this before.

As they walked towards the main gym, she brought Kita aside and asked, “Was what Atsumu said really necessary?”

“It worked didn’t it?”

(Y/N) sighed but smiled. Her heart was beating in excitement as the main gym’s lights shined over them. Her ears were ringing when she heard the loud cheers.

“May the best team win.”

‘Good luck, Asahi.’

~

“Hey, Daichi. Is it just me or am I being glared at by everyone on the other team?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Asahi. You’re probably imagining it.”

~

Next: Mini Drabble

[maliciouslove]

ℍ𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕪 𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕡

✧ pairing: fuckboy smileball barista!denki x reader  ✧ summary: having a slimebucks apron is equal to having unlimited rizz (source: me) and denki proves it by bedding his brand new colleague on her very first day of work.  ✧ word count: 5.5k ✧ tags: dubcon(?), manipulation(?), weed and alcohol use, oral (f!receiving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, forced orgasm, pussyjob, unprotected sex, pulling out, size difference (denki is Tall and Lanky TM), unappropriate work relationship, scummy denki, no feelings.

✧ my submission for the @bastardblvd Slimeball collab ✧

✧ AN: happy birthday to my little slimy fuckboy denks <3 this was so fun to work on, genuinely love being a grimetown resident now. the fanart is made by me but i'm no pro so.. be kind please. :D it was written in a daze so if you see discrepancies.. look away. based on my own tiny starbucks where i work (i am slimebucks denki incarnate). you may expect of me to make this a slimebucks series.. katsuki or touya next? ;)

Denki doesn’t like morning shifts — he doesn’t like how grumpy people are first thing in the morning because it makes scoring dates much harder for him. No matter how bubbly and pleasant he is, Monday mornings are just a bad time to flirt with clients. Most customers don’t even spare a glance at him, too busy figuring out their schedule for the day and burying their noses in their phones. He does, however, enjoy the morning business attire — stockings, pencil skirts, white shirts that allow him to see the outline of a bra underneath… and those heels. Something about office fashion always getshim riled up. 

Typically, if he couldn’t strike up a conversation with the morning customers he would settle for watching them, eyes trailing down their crossed legs when they sit down to enjoy their coffee. He would follow their elegant movements and the curves of their bodies — from the corners of their painted lips turning upward in delight after a sip of hot coffee, to their dainty ankles decorated by the ankle strap of their heels swinging to the rhythm of the music playing softly on the speakers.

That is how his Mondays usually go, yet today he couldn't even enjoy that, all because of a new recruit.

His manager Katsuki (that angry bastard) had not even mentioned to them that he was hiring; he announced only yesterday that there would be a new trainee, pushing the responsibility of showing them around the store and kicking off their barista training onto him. Of course he wouldn’t ask Touya to train them — he would end up with his cock in his hand less than ten minutes into the start of his shift due to his “side hustle” schedule conflict, which in turn would scare off any new hire… and then the hiring process would have to start all over again. Katsuki himself is not much better off as barista trainer, his constant irritation and habit of screaming at everyone and everything has made many employees quit (and cry) early on, but the reason he was shoving the responsibility onto Denki was simply that he wouldn’t be in the store due to a manager’s meeting in Tokyo.

Bummer. 

According to the clock on the wall, the new hire should be coming in any time now, so Denki settles for focusing his attention and efforts on that instead of his grumpy morning customers. And then, there you were in your yellow raincoat, all sunshine and smiles from the moment you step inside the store. Denki gives you a once over and decides maybe this Monday morning wouldn’t be so awful after all — you were cute and far too innocent and optimistic looking for him not to take advantage and have a little… fun. 

His plan begins to form before you’ve even laid eyes on him.

“Hi! You must be the new addition to our team, pleasure to meet you!” The blonde extends a hand to greet you, his most charming smile plastered on his face. “Our team is a bit of a sausage party right now, so I hope you can bear with us and not get discouraged. We desperately need someone like you on our team.” 

“Oh I can tell, your merch cabinets look very… dry. You fellas are not big on decorating, are you?” Your heartfelt laugh nearly disarms the blonde man as he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, admitting that the three men working there did not have the best sesne of aesthetics and beauty. 

Oh, you were just his type — confident, energetic, and just a bit too kind and trusting. 

“Well, you’re here to save us, right? How about we get started on your training, get the boring part over with so we can get to know each other better.” 

There was not a single pure intention behind his words, but his face remains the picture of innocence and kindness. He’s had time to practice this look after all — can’t let people find out what’s behind the sunshine facade now, can he?

“Oh well training shouldn’t take long, I worked at a different Slimebuckslocation before moving to this part of town, hence why I’m being transferred here. I can get around drink making just fine, so you can just show me around the store I guess?” You bat your eyelashes at him and Denki thinks of you as a pure miracle. This expedites the timeline he had in mind.

With a pep in his step, he shows you around the store and back of house, informing you where they keep extra syrups and toppings at the front and the storage in the back. He hands you a new apron and name tag while informing you of the usual cleaning routine and covering all the basics that you need to get around the new store on your own. Not that he follows these cleaning routines that closely anyhow, but hey, you were here to pick up the slack now.

“So, think you got everything? Any questions?” Denki leans back against the bar on his elbows, long black painted fingers interlocking in front of his torso. He’s laid back and so pretty it’s almost distracting. A regular person has to exert effort not to stare too long at his honey colored eyes that crinkle when he smiles.

However, you cannot get too distracted — you must remain focused and make a good impression today. 

“Yes, can I please rearrange and restock your merchandise cabinets? They do not spark joy and desire to buy in their current state. No offense.” 

“Have at it.” Denki does not break eye contact, not once — feline eyes following your every move, gears turning in his head and schemes hatching in his pretty little head. 

He doesn’t want to seem too overbearing, but he also doesn’t want you to think he isn’t interested. So, as it is pretty quiet in the store right now, he decides to give you a hand with the merchandise, chatting with you — learning about you. After all, the only times he actually puts effort into his minimum wage job arewhen there is a prospect of a cute girl removing her panties for him. 

“So, you live nearby?” he begins to prod at you with innocent questions.

“Ah, not quite. I have to take a bus to get here since I don’t have a car anymore. I live on the east side of town, close to that big mall they built recently.” 

Denki is easy to talk to, a nice balance budding between the two of you as he takes boxes out and hands you colorful cups and tumblers to put on the shelves. 

“Hey, I live around those parts, too, I can give you a lift after work, save you some bus fare. Unless you have some super jealous boyfriend or something?” Despite flunking out of college, Kaminari isnot stupid — he isplaying his cards just right, creating an opportunity to learn if you’re single and give you an option to spend more time with him, which isn’t really an option. Unless you do have a boyfriend, you wouldn’t have a reason to say no, not after the deliberate way he phrased it. 

“Haha, no, no boyfriend — kind of the reason I don’t currently have a car and why I had to move.” There’s an edge to your voice, maybe even a trace of anger, but to him they appear as feelings that seem to have simmered down. “I got out of a long relationship recently. We used to live together and share a car, but I had to get my own place after the breakup, and he took the car. And the dog.”

“That bastard!” Denki chimes, a bit too exaggerated, but he figures making a small joke won’t actually hurt. “Really though, that sucks. I’m sorry it happened.” 

The way he switches from being a clown to being a gentleman can give a person whiplash. 

“Don’t be, I’m not sorry it happened.” You shrug your shoulders and give him a wide, genuine smile. “Now I get to hook up and have flings whever I want.” 

You keep the tone light, and you mean what you said — you’re not looking for anything serious right now, and the satisfaction from your answer was well written on the blonde’s face. He was cute, so maybe you’ll play along, have fun for once. 

“So this means you’ll let me give you a ride?” 

“If you really don’t mind?” You put the final tumbler on the shelf and examine your work in delight. Meanwhile Denki examines your body in delight. 

“Oh, I’d be honored to.” A devious grin adorns his face as he follows you behind bar to help serve customers. 

The day goes on, the playful banter between you and the blonde continuing — turns out you have similar hobbies: you like the same movies and games, you even have similar music taste, and Denki relinquished the store music rights to you for the day. 

Your shoulders would brush as you work side by side at the coffee machines, and he would laugh shyly, complimenting your pace and how well you’re adjusting to the new store. The exchanges between the two of you were flawless, seamlessly passing each other lids and pitchers without so much as saying a word. 

Kaminari gave the perfect performance of a man who enjoys his work; he didn’t even obnoxiusly flirt with every beautiful girl that placed an order. 

“Hey, can you grab some more caramel drizzle from the back?” Denki asks after a huge line of people finally dissipates and gives room for some tidying up and restocking. 

“Yea, absolutely. Need anything else?” 

“Also grab some extra bags of coffee beans and vanilla syrup if you can?” 

You nod and head to the back of house energetically.

Denki’s been working here for over two years now, so he knows that after this rush there won’t be anyone in the store for another half an hour at least, so sending you to the back of house away from customers was a calculated move. As soon as you disappear behind the doors he follows — after all, you wouldn’t be able to carry all that back to the front on your own.He should give you a hand. 

Smiling to himself, he enters the storage area to see you standing on your tip toes trying to reach the bags of coffee on the top shelf. Quietly he walks up behind you, one hand on your waist to pull you back a bit, the other hand reaching above you for the coffee beans. 

“Be careful. If you can’t reach somewhere, just call for me. Don’t want you getting hurt back here.” He can feel you melt into him and rest your back against his chest as he takes the four-pound bag down for you. 

“Oh, sorry… I thought I was gonna be able to reach.” You smile at him, realizing how he was surrounding you in that moment, and something about itmade your skin tingle. “Thank you.” 

“Of course! I figured you wouldn’t be able to carry everything at once so I came along to give you a hand.” The two of you stood very close to one another in the cramped storage, but you didn’t mind, as it was far too cold back here, and Kaminari was pleasantly warm to the touch. “The caramel drizzle is all the way down on that same self, if you want to grab that?” 

Eager to complete the task, you turn around and bend over to open the box labled “caramel drizzle,” giving Denki a perfect view of you round ass, making him gulp hard. If he just reached forward he would be able to trace the curve of your ass with his hand, squeeze one cheek as his other hand trails down your side. 

He shakes the thoughts out of his head as you stand back up, several bags of caramel sauce in your hands. You were squishing them playfully which was not helping Denki in keeping unholy thoughts at bay. 

“I always loved the texture of these bags; it’s so stress relieving to play with them.” Grinning up at him, you were the picture of innocence. 

“Yea, they remind me of tiddies.” Denki blurts out without even thinking, too enthralled by his imagination showing him images of you wrapping your pretty lips around his cock and playing with his balls. Once he realizes what he said he waves his hands around in defence. “No, no, not what I mea–” 

“You haven’t touched boobs recently, have you?” You deadpan, and he can feel his heart sink. “Boobs are much more firm. I get where you’re coming from, but a bag of caramel sauce can not compare to a tit.” You say matter of factly while squishing a bag with your hand. “Can’t do that to a boob, can you?” 

Denki snorts out a laugh. 

“Yea, you’re right — tiddies do feel better. And it has indeed been a while since I got to touch one.” He dramatically wipes a fake tear from the corner of his eye, a big pout on his lips as he turns to exist the storage. 

“Aww, poor Denki… Wanna cop a feel?” You can see him physically freeze up at these words, turning to give you a bewildered look. “I’m joking! Obviously. You that desperate, pretty boy?” 

You walk past him with a gleeful look on your face. 

The look in Kaminari’s eyes changes as soon as you’re out of sight, and he cannot wait to get his greedy hands on you. In fact, he was going to challenge himself and get between those plush thighs of yours by tonight. 

When the two of you are behind bar again, he continues to orbit close to you, watching videos on your phone over your shoulder, brushing his fingers against your skin when he passes you a milk carton, caging you between his body and the bar while he reaches for something behind you. 

And every time you accidentally touched, you could feel electicity run down your spine and butterflies flutter in your stomach. His light amber eyes trailing down your body lit a fire in your lower belly. The day went on just like that — standing a bit too close to one another, making inappropriate jokes, flirting. And so came time to close and go home, riding in his car. 

“You done with the trash?” you ask as he takes his apron off. 

“Yeah, if you’re done with the floor we can head on out.” You head to the back of house together to grab your stuff from your lockers and lock up. 

“So, got any plans for tonight?” he asks, leaning on his locker while waiting for you to put your jacket on. 

Now that you’re officially off the clock, you take the time to pay attention to small details about the man — how long his eyelashes are, how he cockily half smiles at you, how veiny his forearms are. 

“No plans, no — I’m probably gonna end up watching Desperate Housewives with a glass of wine by myself.” 

And there you go — giving him another opportunity. 

“Oh you watch that too?” He’s excited, presenting this as an interest that not many share with him. “That’s basically my plan for the evening, except I was gonna get high instead of drinking.” Sharing with you that he smokes weed is also tactical; it indicates trust that you won’t misuse that information, and it also opens a gate for you to bond with him over weed if you smoke. 

“Oh, well...” And there you go, taking the bait. “If it’s not too forward of me to offer, I’ve got alcohol and pizza on speed dial, you have weed and good company. Maybe we can merge resources, watch tonight’s episode together?” 

Score.

“Sounds perfect.”

He places his hand at the small of your back as he leads you towards his car, being very caring and gentle — making you feel comfortable and safe, letting you open up to him. It was going to be a fun night for Denki. 

Your apartment is exactly what he envisioned: small but cozy, full of plants, color and art. The small space reflected your personality, a variety of interests on display, different styles clashing in every corner of the room. It was cute. And your chouch seemed very comfortable for eating pussy.

“Cute place.” 

“Thanks. I finally got the chance to decorate my own space however I want, so I went a bit crazy with it.” 

Kaminari doesn’t miss the emphasis in your voice; you lived for a long time with no control over small and insignificant things such as decor. You were frustrated. At the same time, he notes that now you seem to cling to control. He noticed it at work, too — you rarely gave yourself time off. Things are really looking up for the blonde man, and he can barely contain his wolfish smile as the gears in his head turn. You’d love to give up control, wouldn’t you? 

“Make yourself comfortable on the couch. I’ll grab us some drinks and we can order pizza.” 

As you make way to the small kitchen, Denki takes two pre-rolled joints from a cigarette tin and places them on the table. Wine and weed should make you nice and pliable for him. You return with a glass of white wine and a cold beer. 

“I figured you’s prefer a beer over wine.” You offer with a smile, and he accepts. 

“How observant of you. I just wanna check first:Are you sure you want to mix alcohol and weed? Might hit you hard.” He shows concern, but it’s fake — the more crossfaded you are, the easier it would be for him to get you naked. 

“Yea I’m uh.. More practiced than I care to admit.” You give him a coy smile and sit next to him on the couch, phone in hand ready to order food. Once that is out of the way, you both finally lean back and relax on the couch, the episode of Desperate Housewives starting with a recap. 

“So, do you invite people you just met to your apartment to get stoned often, or..?” He offers jokingly as he lights one of the joints up. 

“No, just the pretty and charming ones.” You’re no longer being coy about it like you were at work; you like him, and you aregoing to make it known. 

“Oh, you think I’m pretty? So you only want me for my face?” He retorts with faux disappointment, eyes focused on yours intently, curious and full of desire. 

“Not just your face. You have pretty hands too.” You answer with a straight face, reaching for his hand that was holding the joint and pulling it towards yourself, taking a drag from the joint between his slender fingers. 

Denki swallows, the lust thick in his throat. The way your lips wrap around the joint is sinister, the eyecontact you maintain while doing it — electrifying. 

His body responds before his brain can process, leaning in towards you to capture the smoke from your lips with his own, inhaling it and placing his free hand at the back of your neck, keeping your lips close to his. 

Honey-colored eyes stare down at you as your cheeks begin to heat, mind and heart racing as your tongue darts to wet your lips and taste him. Screw your plan to just tease him, wind him up for a week or two, make him eager — you don’t have the patience for all that. You set your glass on the coffee table and close the gap between the two of you, pushing him back, straddling him. 

“Feeling bold tonight, sweetness?” He smiles up at you, letting you get your dose of control, let you simmer in the illusion that you initiated this, you took the lead. His free hand rests on your thigh, thumb drawing circles over your jeans, gently squeezing you. 

You don’t dignify him with a response as your lips crash onto his in a searing kiss, fingers carding through his blonde locks. He can tell how needy you are by the way your body moves — pulling his hair a bit harder than you should, nipping at his lower lip, canting your hips over his. You’re leaning into his every touch, almost aggressively taking what you want from him, claiming control. 

He smiles into the kiss and in one swift move shifts you to lay flat on your back on the couch, his larger frame towering over yours. 

“Don’t move.” He sounds almost like a different person as he yanks the control from you, and you obey. You lay still and watch him intently as he lights the joint again, taking a long drag and putting the joint back on the ashtray. 

Leaning down, he places his hand under your chin, parting your lips and blowing the smoke into your mouth. You inhale and hold your breath as he traces kisses down your jaw and collarbone, warm hands sneaking under your shirt. He only speaks after you slowly exhale the smoke.

“You’ve brightened my day, you know. Let me thank you properly.” 

His fingers trail down your body and unbutton your jeans, feather light kisses pressed against your tummy just above the hem of your pants. You don’t protest, so he continues his ministrations, pulling your shirt up above your head and leaving you in your pink lacy bra. He pushes one of the bra straps to the side and—

Ding dong!

The pizza has arrived. 

“Fuck–” He scrambles to his feet to go answer the door while you qucikly throw your shirt back on and head to the kitchen. Denki follows with pizzas in hand that he quickly discards on the table. 

“Are the pizzas cut? Do you need any sauce or—” You’re scooped up in his hands and pressed against the kitchen counter. His lips are on your again, insistent and needy. “Denk— The food?” 

“I was hoping for a different meal.” 

His breath is hot against the shell of your ear as he lifts you up to sit you on the marble counter, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he makes desire bubble inside you once more. 

Discarding your pesky shirt again, he wastes no time in removing your bra and cupping your breasts, lips enclosing around your pert nipple. 

“You’re right — much better than a bag of caramel sauce.” His words are barely above a whisper as he tweaks your nipple between thumb and index finger, leaving wet kisses across your sternum and stomach. His hands grip at the hem of your still unbuttoned jeans, and you follow his wordless instruction, lifting your hips and letting him slip the jeans off. 

There you were, practically naked on your kitchen counter while he, still fully dressed, devoured you with predatory eyes. Large hands rest on your bare thighs, and he gently spreads your legs and drags you closer to the edge of the countertop.

You’re pretty and soft, and you smell nice. Denki can’t help but wonder if you’ll taste sweet as well. A single digit traces the outline of your lacy thong, marveling at the wet spot forming on the material. Hooking his finger behind the material, he roughly pulls it upwards — the feeling isn’t exactly pleasant, but it doesn't hurt either; it’s simply not enough friction. You need more. Your nose and eyebrows scrunch, and you wrap your hand around his wrist, a pleading whine leaving your parted lips.

“Aw, I’m sorry pretty girl… I won’t tease you too much, promise.” 

Another quick peck to your lips and he sinks to his knees in front of you, eye level with your needy wet cunt. Pushing the pink fabric to the side, he inspects your pretty cunt, glistening with arousal. Kissing from the inside of your thigh and making his way to your core, all you can do is tug on his hair and hold on while he devours you whole. 

Kaminari finally delves his tongue into your heat, leaving a long stripe from your needy hole to your sensitive clit and then focusing on the latter. His tongue is gentle, teasing — like he has all the time in the world to enjoy this tasty treat, working you up until your body starts moving on its own against his tongue. Your head is so far up in the clouds that you probably aren’t even aware of how tightly you’re gripping his hair and how you’re moving your hips rhythmically against his mouth. 

You sound cute: breathless and whiny, softly begging under your breath, head tilted back in pleasure as the muscles in your thighs stiffen and your legs shake. Yet, Denki does not speed up, maintaining his languid pace and dangling true bliss right in front of your eyes. 

“F-fuuck… Denki, please...” 

Your heart is in your throat, and your body aches from the tension, you need release. You can feel the smirk on his lips as you beg him. 

At the peak of your high, delirious from the need to cum but not being given enough friction to tumble over the edge, Denki lifts two long, slender fingers to your wet cunt and slowly pushes them inside you, the feeling of being filled up driving the air out of your lungs. 

Quickly, Denki finds that spongy spot inside you and presses against it, moving his fingers right against it while his lips and tongue focus on your clit. 

It takes seconds for you to ascend, body going rigid as your muscles contract around his fingers and your orgasm is forced out of you with a strangled moan. He does not slow down. 

One strong arm wraps around your thigh, keeping you still while his mouth continues to ravage you, fingers slipping in and out with precision. He was intending to force another orgasm out of you without giving you time to recover from the first. 

Your arms and legs feeltingly and limp, and Denki has to support your weight all while eating you out like a man starved. His cock is painfully hard in his tight jeans, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make you cum one more time on his face. 

You taste like wild honey, and your whiny pleas fuel him to keep going, marveling in the feeling of you becoming tighter and tighter for him, chest heaving erraticly and shaky fingers scratching at his arms and shoulders. You are about to come undone for him. 

Before your mind can respond to your body, the coil in your belly snaps, and you gush onto his fingers with a scream, squirting in his earger mouth as he licks up every clear droplet. He removes his fingers and helps you come down from your high with gentle kisses over your swollen clit and soft thighs. 

Your mind is spinning, but your ears register the sound of a belt unbuckling. Groggily opening your eyes, you are met with the image of him keeping his t-shirt tucked between his teeth as he fists his cock to the sight of you. His pupils are blown — only a thin ring of gold remaining. He closes the gap between you again, his warm length resting on your sticky cunt, slowly gliding between your folds. 

You open your mouth to ask if he has condoms, but he seems to have already read your mind. 

“Don’t have any on me, but I’m clean, and I won’t put it in.” His words are rushed, and he is far too entranced by the feel and sound of wetness to even look you in the eyes. 

You can’t even bother to argue, too tired and blissed out with a new sesnse of hunger growing in the pit of your stomach. Your hips instinctively move to meet his thrusts, the mushroom tip of his cockhead grinding into your sensitive clit, and you just want more. Tired hands reach out to him, thumb rubbing over his cheek as he leans into your touch, kissing your palm with his eyes shut as his hips thrust faster against your sloppy wet cunt. 

“Fuck, gorgeous, you have no idea how bad I wanna be inside ya.” He nips at your hand still resting on his cheek and growls lowly, frustrated by his own imagination of how snug you would feel around his cock. 

Drunk on his words and the previous two orgasms he forced out of you, you want him just as bad. Throwing all logic and reasoning out the window you use the last of your strenght to lift your hips and line him up to your entrance, slamming your hips down and taking his cock all at once with a yelp. 

“P-Please, please…” You mumble in a chant as your velvety walls spasm around his girth, mouth loosly hanging open and a bit of drool trickling down your chin. You were so beautifully fucked out, heavy eyelids giving you the most seductive look. 

Finally overcoming his shock and managing to stifle his impending orgasm, Denki moves his hips and curses under his breath at the feeling of your gummy walls sucking him in. Grinning wolfishly at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head, small hands gripping his sleeve for dear life, he angles his hips to thrust his cock right into your sweet spot making you scream his name in pleasure. 

God, if he hadn’t edged himself half to insanity, he’d want to stay buried in your warm cunt for the whole evening, but you felt so good, he knew he wouldn’t last. Hooking his arms under your knees and then linking his finger behind your neck he rams his cock fervently inside you. The angle change of this position made you feel him all the way in your stomach, your clit slapping against his pelvis with each thrust. Snaking a hand between your bodies you circle a finger over your clit to help yourself while he uses you as a fleshlight.

“That’s right sweetness, keep doing that, you need to cum one more time f’me. One more.” 

Folding you even more and slamming you on his cock he could feel your insides trying to push him out as a third orgasm washes over you, more clear liquid splashing against his abdomen as you cry out his name.

Letting you out of the headlock, he pulls out quickly, pumping his fist over his cock as his balls thighten, and he empties his seed all over your wet cunt, smearing his cum over your clit and folds with a relieved sigh.  

Still caging you in with his arms at your sides, he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. 

“You good?” You answer with a weak nod, and he can’t help but chuckle at how exhausted you are reaching over for the kitchen paper. “Sorry, it’s the closest thing I can clean you up with.” 

After catching your breath and no longer being covered in sticky cum, post-nut clarity finally settles in, and you chew on your lower lip, anxiously pondering the consequences of your actions. 

“Don’t freak out, pretty girl.” He’s his usual charming self now, feline eyes crinkling in a smile. “You don’t want anything serious, nor do I, and if word gets out at work we’d be both in trouble. So, how about we keep this between us?” 

Offering you a perfect escape — the final part of his plan. You smile widely glad to know you’re both on the same page, the anxiety dying down. 

“Also, sorry to bust a load and hit the road, but my landlord has left me like 12 messages about some emergency at the flat so I think I should really go check it out, might be a flood.” He awkwardly scratches his neck, showing that he feels bad about this. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it! Go, I hope it isn’t flooded.” You turn to grab one of the abandoned pizzas on the table. “Why don’t you take this with you? You never got to eat it anyway. Won’t be as good as fresh pizza, but it’s something…” 

He grins widely, accepting the pizza and giving you a chaste kiss on the cheek. 

“Thank you. I’ll see you at work then, newbie?” 

“See you then.” 

Escorting him to the door you lock it behind him and rest your back to the door taking a deep breath. 

Walking outside of your apartment complex, Denki pulls his phone out of his back pocket and dials a number under the name “Landlord Toshi”. 

“Hey man, thanks for always having my back with the apartment ‘emergencies.’” The blonde laughs into the phone. “Yea, I told you she was gonna be easy — fresh out of a relationship, wants to let loose and make up for lost time, constantly feels like she has to be in control so naturally gives the reins away when it comes to fucking. It was a fun little challenge.” 

“You dog.” The man on the other line chuckles and a bong can be heard in the background. “You gonna tap that again?” 

“Nah, she seems the type to catch feels.” Denki lights up the other joint in his cigarette tin and gets in his car, revving the engine. “Plus, the only reason I did this was to even the bet scores at work while Touya is still on vacation.”

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

[syuga-s]

the art of seduction... and hair pulling

w.c. I genuinely don't know around 2.6k (???)

pairing. Oikawa x female!reader, implied Makki x reader & Iwaizumi x reader i'm sorry

genre. crack, suggestive

a/n. haikyuu girl what are you doing here!!! I got carried away. A lot. I was planning on doing a blurb, a short imagine for fuck's sake, BUT HERE WE ARE. be wary of guy friends who will tug on your hair with no warning, they're out there ☝️ curse words here and there 👍

Friends since high school, you and your close-knit group, the infamous Seijoh Four and your best friend Momo. It was just supposed to be a night out with your friends. Those four plus you and Momo. A casual night out. You had gone to one of your fave spots in town, an outdoor brewery, one of the few calm places where there was a table big enough for all of you.

Oikawa was deep into a conversation with Makki and Mattsun while you were talking with Iwaizumi beside you and Momo in front of you. Each group in their own topic. Tonight you were in the middle of Oikawa and Iwaizumi, while the other side sat with Mattsun, Makki and Momo in that order.

Momo leaned in conspiratorially, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, have you heard about Iwa's last ex?" she begins, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper.

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow, clearly not thrilled about the direction the conversation is taking. "Oh, not this again," he mutters.

As Momo's words hang in the air, you can't help but lean in, curiosity piqued. "spill it," you urge, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Iwaizumi lets out a resigned sigh, knowing there's no escaping the impending gossip. "Fine, but keep it down," he says, glancing around to make sure no one nearby can overhear. "What about her?"

"Oh, I've got to hear this," you declare, unable to contain your excitement.

Iwaizumi lets out a long-suffering sigh, shooting Momo a playful glare. "You know what, I thought we agreed to leave my dating disasters in the past," he grumbles with amusement in his eyes.

Momo waves off his protests with a dismissive flick of her hand. "Oh, come on, Iwa-chan, it's all in good fun," she insists, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

In the same table you could also hear,

"I'm telling you, guys, it's all in the wrist action," Oikawa insists, his voice laced with a hint of smugness.

Makki chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. "And here I thought you were just born with that perfect hair-pulling technique," he teases, earning a playful shove from Matsukawa.

Oikawa and your other two friends were talking about the proper way to pull someone's hair while you're at it, Oikawa was pretty sure, if not a 100% sure, he had the supreme technique, the mother of all of them.

"Alright, so picture this," Oikawa begins, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leans in closer to Makki and Mattsun. "You're with a girl, right? And you want to add a little extra... to the moment."

Makki nods eagerly, a grin spreading across his face. "I'm listening," he says, leaning in closer to catch every word.

Oikawa flashes them a confident smirk before continuing. "So, you start by gently running your fingers through her hair," he explains, his voice taking on a theatrical flair. "And then, just when she least expects it, you give a little tug."

Matsukawa raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "And what's the secret to the perfect tug?" he asks, crossing his arms with an unamused tone.

Oikawa grins, clearly enjoying being the center of attention. "Ah, my dear friends, that is the million-dollar question," he replies, his voice dripping with faux wisdom. "You see, it's all about the timing and the angle. Too hard, and you risk pulling her hair out. Too soft, and it's just not as satisfying."

Makki and Mattsun exchange amused glances, barely able to contain their laughter at Oikawa. "Write that down, write that down," Makki chuckled while hitting Mattsun’s arm.

Having you next to him was perfect for the coming demonstration.

Unbeknownst to you, Oikawa's claims of expertise would soon be put to the test. In a daring move, he seized the opportunity to demonstrate his supposedly flawless technique, entangling his fingers in your hair and giving it a sudden tug. The shock of the unexpected sensation rippled through you, and a soft whimper escaped your lips, instantly catching the attention of your friends.

The air crackled with silent acknowledgment, each member of the group acutely aware of what just happened.

The suddenness of the noise caught you off guard. After that sound came out of your mouth, your eyes flew open in shock. Shocked of having done that noise? While in front of all your friends? Did they hear? The truth was – they had. Of course they did. Only someone who wasn’t paying attention didn’t get to hear you. All of the people in this table got to hear you whimper with the little action your dear friend over here did.

A single thought echoed in your mind. Oikawa what the fuck?

You blinked a few times. As your eyes met with Momo's amused gaze, you saw she was having a hard time keeping her laughter to herself. Next, you turned to Iwaizumi, noting how he was clenching his jaw and the subtle movement of his Adam's apple as he avoided meeting your eyes. Now Makki. His hand was covering his mouth not actually in shock, but with both of his eyebrows raised, you could see a blend of amusement and disbelief, a mirror to your own expression, while Mattsun's swift return to his beer signaled his desire to move past the subject.

“See? I told you it works. I’ve perfected it over time.”

You jerked your head to the side, eyes wide as you tried to process the startling words of this fucker. A fucker who dared turn you on in front of all your friends.

Oikawa's audacious declaration jolted you into reality. His casual demeanor only fueled the disbelief and arousal swirling within you, leaving you speechless and utterly flustered.

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back,”

As you excused yourself to visit the bathroom, the scolding at the table started, with a newfound focus on nagging Oikawa for his move. Momo took the lead, her voice carrying a playful reminder as she wagged her hand at Oikawa. "Oikawa, you can't just go around pulling people's hair like that!" she chided, though a glint sparkled in her eyes, softening the scolding tone. Iwaizumi chimed in with a mock-serious expression, his deep voice laced with amusement. "Yeah, next time, at least buy her dinner first or something," he quipped, earning a round of laughter from the group.

Makki and Mattsun joined in the teasing, their playful banter serving to diffuse any tension. "Come on, Oikawa, we all know you think you’re smooth and all that, but that was a bit much," Makki teased, his grin infectious as he hit Oikawa's shoulder. Mattsun, ever the voice of reason, poked some fun too. "You're lucky she didn't slap you," he joked, raising his glass in a mock-toast to their friend's boldness.

Oikawa’s gaze lingered on the spot where you had disappeared to the bathroom. An impish grin tugged at the corners of his lips. He pushed himself away from the table, something naughty about his aura.

‘I’ll be right back,’ he announced casually, his voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for his friends to hear. Without waiting for a response, he sauntered away from the table, his steps purposeful as he made his way to find you.

Makki and Mattsun exchanged a knowing look, their grins widening as they watched their friend’s calculated move.

“Do we all know where he’s off to?” Makki mused, his voice low enough to make the remaining ones at the table hear him.

Mattsun chuckled softly, taking a sip of his drink before offering his own theory. “Probably to continue his little game with y/n,” he replied, a hint of amusement coloring his tone. “That man doesn’t know when to quit.”

Their conversation was punctuated by Momo’s playful jab, her eyes alight with mischief. “I think Oikawa enjoys stirring up things with her just for the thrill of it,” she quipped.

Iwaizumi couldn't help commenting “Honestly, I think y/n knows exactly what she’s doing too,” he remarked. “She’s always had Shittykawa wrapped around her finger,”

"Wouldn’t surprise me if she gets him about to bust one before we even leave this place,”

"Yeah I remember that time y/n whispered something in my ear that had me blushing for hours. She fucking knows how play with you" Makki smirked.

Mattsun chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. “I guess we've been spared from y/n’s mischief so far,”

“Right, Iwa? Momo?”

Iwaizumi’s lips quirk into a knowing smirk, his gaze flickering briefly to Momo before returning to Mattsun. “Oh, yeah that's right” he replied cryptically. Plainly brushing him off.

Back in the bathroom you couldn't suppress the laughter bubbling up within you at the absurdity of the situation. Despite of having felt embarrassed for a couple of minutes. That actually turned you on. Of course, Oikawa and you have flirted a few times before. It was in both of your natures but tonight it opened a door. You bit your lip as you fixed your hair in the mirror, a mischievous glint danced in your eyes, reflecting a latent desire stirring.

Just as you left the bathroom, to your surprise, there stood Oikawa, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. His presence caught you off guard, yet you couldn't deny the rush of anticipation that surged through you at the sight of him. "Well, well, well, look who it is," he teased, his voice laced with amusement as he leaned against a door frame, his gaze locking with yours.

As Oikawa began to close the distance between you, his presence seemed to fill the entire room, enveloping you in a heady mix of excitement. You couldn't help but feel small in comparison to his commanding presence, his height and confidence casted a spell over you. Your eyes traced the lines of his figure, taking in every detail, from the confident tilt of his head to the way his shirt clung to his muscular frame.

The air between you thickened and got hotter. Feeling small under his imposing presence, you let your eyes roam over his figure, taking in the way he filled the space around you.

Now it was your turn to toy with him. In a moment of daring impulse, fueled by the charged atmosphere between you, you decide to trace the contours of his torso, your fingertips trembling with anticipation as they hovered over his defined muscles.

As your hand traced him, lingering over the defined curve of his pec, you felt a surge of boldness wash over you. With each deliberate touch, you reveled in the sensation of his warmth beneath your fingertips, relishing the way he responded to your teasing caress.

Oikawa was battling within himself, torn between the desire to reciprocate and the temptation to let you take the lead. He longed to tangle his fingers in your hair once again, or to feel the warmth of your skin beneath his touch. Yet, a voice of restraint urged him to hold back, to savor the moment and revel in your boldness. Wrestling with his impulses, he decided to wait, allowing you to dictate the pace for now, but eagerly anticipating the moment when he could fully engage in this game between you two.

Your eyes, locked in a magnetic gaze with his own, refused to waver, captivated by the depth and intensity of his caramel-colored irises. It was as if they held a secret language, speaking volumes without uttering a single word.

You could feel the heat radiating between you, a palpable energy that pulsed in the air around you. You edged closer to him, close enough to have him smell the intoxicating scent of your freshly shampooed hair mingled with your perfume, the very same perfume he found utterly irresistible and loved since years ago. It was a scent that consistently drew him to your side, the very reason he always sought out the seat next to you in any setting.

Your lips got dangerously close to his own, and he could swear that the same soft whimper you let out a few minutes ago was going to escape his mouth.

With a teasing smile, you leaned back slightly, the warmth of your breath grazing his lips tantalizingly. "See? I have my own tricks too," you whispered, your voice a playful melody that danced in his ears.

As your lips parted from his, a surge of anticipation rippled through him, leaving him longing to clash his lips against yours. But before he could act, your mouth moved to his ear, your words sending a shiver down his spine. "I had to even the score, don’t you think?" you murmured, the gentle tease laced with a hint of filthiness.

As you both return to the table, you notice a fresh round of beers waiting for you, courtesy of your friends.

Their eyes flicker between you and Oikawa, a knowing grin spreading across their faces as they take in his subtle change in expression.

Momo raises an eyebrow playfully. "Looks like someone's got a lot on their mind," she teases, her voice laced with amusement. Iwaizumi offers a knowing smirk, his gaze lingering on Oikawa for a moment before he takes a sip of his drink. "What's got you all worked up, Oikawa?" he asks, his tone light but not passing on the opportunity to embarrass him a bit.

Makki and Mattsun, sharing a silent chuckle as they await Oikawa's response.

Oikawa chuckles nervously, trying to maintain his composure as he feels the weight of everyone’s gaze on him. “Oh, you know, just contemplating the mysteries of the universe,” he quips.

“Bullshit my guy,” you finally said. Pride written all over your face.

Makki's mischievous grin widens as he leans in, unable to resist adding fuel to the fire. "Don’t tell me you’re actually blushing bro," his tone light-hearted but teasing. Oikawa's cheeks flush even more at the remark, and he shoots Makki a mock glare.

Matsukawa chimes in with a smirk, "I thought you were the 'Grand King' Oikawa. Can't handle a little friendly ribbing?"

Between his nerves and his brain recovering from what you did to him, what Oikawa actually heard was, “Can't handle a little friendly rubbing?" And Oikawa's eyes widened slightly, a subtle shift in his demeanor as he realizes the implications of Matsukawa's words.

Oikawa’s voice raised an octave in panic, “WHAT DID YOU SEE?”

Iwaizumi’s smirk widened as he saw his friend's reaction, "Relax, Oikawa," he replies. "We didn't see anything, but your reaction says it all.”

Makki, always the one to jump in with his comments, couldn't resist adding his two cents. "y/n, honey, remind me to never play with your hair," a playful wink sent to you.

bonus. because i'm in love with iwa-chan and i couldn't help imagine this part even though it doesn't fit the story anymore

As the night went on, Iwaizumi found himself gravitating towards you more often than usual, his protective instincts kicking in. Whether it was subtly adjusting his position to make you more comfortable, offering you his jacket when the evening air turned colder, or simply engaging you in conversation with a gentle smile, his actions speak volumes about his care and concern for you. You can't help but feel a warmth spreading in your chest each time he looks out for you. Iwaizumi ended up leaning over and pulled you into a sideways hug, his arm draped casually around your shoulders. With a warm smile, he squeezes you gently, his voice soft as he says, “You feeling okay?” Not sure if he meant something regarding your alcohol intake or something about what happened tonight. Regardless, feeling the comforting weight of his arm around you, you lean into his embrace, grateful for having him in your life, like this.

[classiclumsy]

𝔗𝔦𝔱𝔩𝔢: 𝔐𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔯𝔲𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℌ𝔬𝔤𝔰𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔊𝔲𝔫

Summary: A cozy Sunday morning with Severus is interrupted by an unexpected visit from friends, leading to a fun and lively outing in Hogsmeade, ending with a tender moment between you and Severus.

Pairing : Severus Snape x Fem! Reader

Warning : This story has explicit sexual content and is for mature audiences (NSFW +18)

A/N : This is my first time writing fanfiction, and I’m so excited (and a little nervous) to share it with you. English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes, but I’m doing my best! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Any feedback or thoughts would mean the world to me, especially since I’m still learning.

You are jolted awake by the sound of the alarm blaring. Groaning, you slam the snooze button and roll to the side of the bed, burying your face into the pillow in an attempt to escape the noise.

“Merlin’s beard, It’s Sunday!” You are planning to spend at least one or two more hours in bed after a rough week of teaching and extra classes for students who need extra preparation for the upcoming exam. Then you feel a pair of hands wrap around your waist, and a deep voice chuckles, sending a shiver through your body and turning it to jelly.

“Good morning, my sweet potato. What’s got you all grumpy this morning, hmm?” You snuggle closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you playfully fumble with the light, trying to balance morning brightness with cozy darkness. “Mmm, Sev, it’s still too early.” Even after five years of marriage, Severus still rises early just to watch you sleep. He finds a quiet joy in seeing your peaceful face and listening to your gentle, rhythmic breathing.

Then he showers your face with tender kisses, each one a gentle caress that stirs you awake. “Come on, sleepyhead, I need you to brighten up my morning,” he teases with a playful grin. You smile, your eyes still closed, and whisper, “If you keep kissing me like that, I might just drift back to sleep.”

He chuckles, his voice low and teasing. “Then I guess I’ll have to find another way to wake you up.” With a mischievous grin, Severus gently lifts the blanket and straddles you, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes glinting with desire. He then places a soft, lingering kiss between your breasts. “I could listen to you make those sounds all morning,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

You gasp softly, your body arching instinctively. “You’re quite the morning person yourself,” you reply breathlessly, your fingers tracing along his arm.

Severus chuckles again, his lips brushing against your skin. “Just trying to make sure my favorite person starts the day with a smile.”

Suddenly, a loud banging echoes from the living room, jolting both of you. The eerie babbling voice grows louder, inching closer with every passing second. You remain frozen in place, Severus still straddling you, neither of you daring to move. Then, with a deafening crash, the bedroom door bursts open.

As the door bursts open, Minerva’s frustration quickly shifts to enthusiasm. “Oh, Merlin, Albus! I’ve told you —it’s not okay to barge in like this!” she says in a thick Scottish accent.

Albus, looking both apologetic and amused, steps forward. “My deepest apologies for the dramatic entrance. We thought we’d add a bit of excitement to your weekend!”

Filius, grinning mischievously, adds, “Yes, and we figured you’d appreciate a break from whatever ‘important’ thing you were doing. What do you say?”

Severus, still visibly irritated, narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “Couldn’t this have waited? We’re in the middle of something.”

Minerva, noticing his frustration, quickly responds, “I’m sorry for the timing. We genuinely wanted to include you both. If you’d prefer, we can give you a moment to finish up.”

Albus, sensing the tension, offers a conciliatory nod. “Indeed. We’ll be outside, plotting our next grand adventure. Let us know if you decide to join.” With that, Albus and Filius step back into the corridor, leaving you and Severus to address the unexpected intrusion.

You groan as you process the sudden commotion, already wide awake. You smack Severus lightly on the arm and exchange a look with him as he smirks and deadpans, “Ah, just what I needed —another one of Albus’s surprise visits.”

“Maybe he’s here to spill the latest Hogwarts scandal,” you chuckle.

Severus raises an eyebrow. “Excellent. I was beginning to think we’d gone out of fashion without a dose of Albus’s chaos.”

With that, you both get up and get dressed, exchanging amused glances as you prepare. As you head out, Severus suddenly grabs your waist and whispers, “If you’re a good girl, I might have a special reward for you when we get home.”

With a playful smile, you head out to join Albus, Filius, and Minerva, who are already on their way to Hogsmeade for butterbeer. As you walk, you can’t help but wonder if this outing will involve anything more dramatic than a few rounds of frothy drinks and some juicy Hogwarts gossip.

As you and Severus head out to join Albus, Minerva, and Filius, the morning’s chaos seems to melt away. The group’s antics at the Three Broomsticks turn the unexpected intrusion into a highlight of the day. Minerva shares a story about Filius’s ill-fated attempt to enchant a teapot to sing, leading to a hilarious off-key performance. Filius, pretending to be offended, vows to get his revenge.

Severus leans in and whispers, “If this is the result of a quiet morning, I’m starting to think we should plan more surprises.”

You laugh and reply, “Only if they involve more butterbeer and less of Albus’s dramatic entrances.”

Just then, Albus, ever the showman, stands up and waves his wand dramatically. “Time for a special treat! Filius is going to try out his latest spell—turning butterbeer into chocolate!”

Filius looks both excited and nervous as he performs the spell, which results in chocolate splattering everywhere. The group erupts in laughter, and even Severus can’t help but join in.

Later, as you and Severus prepare to leave, Severus leans in with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know, after all this chaos, I think it’s only fair we return the favor.” You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And how do you plan to do that?”

Severus grins. “I’ve been brewing up a few ideas for some harmless pranks. We could use some clever enchantments to liven things up for Albus and the others.” You laugh, delighted by the idea. “Sounds perfect. Let’s start planning our little revenge. I’m sure they’ll appreciate a bit of extra excitement.”

Hand in hand, you and Severus walk back to Hogwarts, already brainstorming creative pranks and plotting ways to surprise your friends. The day’s chaos has only fueled your excitement for the next round of fun, and you can’t wait to see what mischief lies ahead.

———

As you and Severus reach your shared quarters, you start taking off your outer layer of clothing. Meanwhile, Severus casts a silencing charm and adds extra security to the door to ensure Albus and the gang won’t barge in again. “Can’t have another surprise visit,” he teases with a smirk.

Suddenly, Severus picks you up in a bridal style, making you gasp in surprise. He quickly silences your reaction with a kiss, causing you to moan softly against his lips. With a swift motion, he kicks the bedroom door and gently sets you down on the bed. “I think we’ve earned a little privacy, don’t you?”

Severus takes your chin in one hand and kisses you with desperate urgency, not giving you a chance to speak. His lips press against yours with an intense, unspoken need.

After pulling back, he looks at you with a commanding gaze. “Strip,” he orders. Without hesitation, you slowly unbutton your blouse and trousers, leaving only your underwear.

As you reach to take off your matching black underwear, he swiftly grabs your hand and pins it above your head. “Hold on, baby girl. Let me have some fun first,” he says with a cheeky grin. Severus knows how to be gentle, but in the bedroom, his dominance takes over, keeping you on edge until you’re desperately begging for release—and it only turns you on even more.

Severus presses you into the mattress, his body pinning you down so completely that you can’t move. His hardness presses against your core, and a moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. “Already, baby?” he murmurs with a sly grin.

“Sevy, please…” you whisper, your voice full of need. It feels so good that you can’t help but slowly grind against his hardness.

A low growl of disapproval escapes him as he tightens his grip. “Did I say you could move?” he asks, his voice stern, making your heart race even more.

“No, Daddy,” you breathe out, your voice trembling with both anticipation and submission.

Hearing those nicknames is enough to make him go feral. With a sudden, fierce need, he releases you and quickly strips off his clothing, his eyes never leaving you.

At the end of the bed, Severus kneels and lifts your legs over his shoulders. As he presses his finger between your legs, he feels your wetness. A satisfied smile spreads across his face. “Already wet, baby girl?” he murmurs. You can’t help but moan at the touch, your anticipation growing with each passing moment.

Severus then moves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening core. His eyes roam over the sight with a mixture of admiration and desire. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he says, his voice full of anticipation as he takes in the view.

After a moment of relentless licking and fingering, Severus has you on the edge, your body drenched in sweat and your voice hoarse from screaming in pleasure. You are soaking the bed beneath you, each touch driving you further into desperation.

“Please, Severus,” you beg, your voice trembling with need. “Just fuck me already.” He smirks, enjoying your agony. “Not yet,” he says, his control unwavering as he refuses to let you come.

When Severus decides he’s had enough of teasing your sweet core, he pulls back with a satisfied smile. He rises to his feet and positions you on your stomach, lifting you effortlessly. As he stands behind you, he pumps his hand slowly along his length, his movements deliberate and teasing. He shifts to brush the head of his cock against your clit, each touch making you gasp. “I want you to feel every inch,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Are you ready for me?”

You nod, arching your back with a sob. “Ready, please,” you whimper, your voice trembling with need.

Severus moves with a smooth, steady motion, sinking into you in one long, continuous thrust. He groans into your back as you tighten around him. “You feel incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick with pleasure. Your entire body seizes, and the world seems to blur as stars burst behind your closed eyes.

As he fucks you hard, driving you to the edge, he asks, “Are you close?” When you can barely manage to respond, he growls, “I can’t hear you, sweetheart.”

Desperate and overwhelmed, you cry out, “I’m so close, Severus! Please, let me cum!” With a satisfied growl, he gives you the go-ahead, and you come undone, your body trembling with release.

As Severus pushes you closer to the edge, his movements grow more urgent and intense. His groans are deep and primal, a raw expression of his pleasure. When he finally comes, it is a powerful release, filling you with his warmth. He guides your hips along his cock, making sure both of you feel every ounce of pleasure.

By the time he finishes, you are completely spent, your muscles feeling like jelly from the intense experience. The room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing as you both catch your breath, exhausted but satisfied.

Severus eases out of you and offers soft kisses and gentle touches to help you come down from the high. He carefully removes your soaked underwear and bra, his movements tender. Warm cloths glide over your sweat-sticky skin, cleaning up all the traces of your earlier intensity. This thoughtful choice makes you love him even more, appreciating how deeply he connects with you.

Severus gently tugs you up to the top of the bed, his hands guiding you with care. Once you are settled, he climbs beneath the blankets beside you, pulling them snugly around the two of you. He wraps an arm around you and whispers, “You were perfect. I love holding you like this. Just being with you makes everything better.”

“Love you,” you whisper tiredly, your voice barely audible. Severus nuzzles closer, his breath warm against your skin as he murmurs softly, “I love you too, more than you know.” The intimacy of the moment wraps around you like a cocoon.

As you exchange whispered words of love, a peaceful calm settles over you. Slowly, you both drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s embrace.

[ispeakforthetrees19]

Puck Me Chapter 2

Summary: Hockey Player Levi and Figure Skating Coach Reader make a bet...who will win?

A/N: I love all the love for Hockey Levi. Thanks to my beta @nilfgaardianleviosa, as always.

Cross posted to AO3.

Tags: Levi Ackerman/Reader, AU-Modern Setting, Hockey Player Levi Ackerman, Figure Skater and Coach Reader, Enemies to Lovers, You know where this is going, this will be explicit in the future, 2nd person POV, female reader.

TW: bad words, fuckboys

Words: 2.1k (I think)

Next Chapter

Chapter 2: The Bet

You’re at public ice again, waiting on Petra to show up for your weekly friend date as you set your jacket over the boards. You open up the rule book, deciding to warm up with patterned dances while you’re waiting.

You trace your fingers over the pattern of the Willow Waltz, memorizing the steps, when someone skates up next to you. You look over and see Levi leaning against the boards, blue eyes scanning over you.

“You’re a coach,” he says.

“No shit, Captain Obvious.”

He chuckles at your abrasive demeanor. “I would think a coach is a little more graceful than you are.”

You scoff at his arrogance. “You wouldn’t know graceful if it shoved a skate up your ass.”

He laughs at that, and for a moment, you’re caught off guard by the sound of it setting off butterflies in your stomach.

“What are you looking at?”

You push the rulebook over to him, and he picks it up, leaning his elbows against the boards. You find your eyes wandering to the impressive butt in his tight joggers before you catch yourself.

“Dances,” you tell him. “I’m waiting for Petra, thought I’d see if I can remember any of them.”

“Do you dance with a partner?” he asks, handing back the rulebook.

You shake your head. “Nah, not a lot of male figure skaters to partner up with. I just do dance for fun.”

“I bet it’s not that hard,” he says. “I could probably do it better than you.”

“I’d like to see you try to finesse your way across the ice in figure skates,” you scoff. “You wouldn’t last five minutes.”

Levi raises a brow at you. “Like you could last in hockey skates? I doubt it.”

“Wanna bet?”

Levi gives you a smirk. “What’s the prize?”

You shrug at him. “If I can last longer in hockey skates than you in figure skates, you have to skate with me, like, learn a dance and do it with me, for all of your teammates to watch.”

“And if I win, you have to come out and be a hockey girl during halftime for the playoffs qualifier, with my name on the back of your jersey.”

You purse your lips, uncertain if you want to accept. But he’s holding out his hand looking at you expectantly and you want to prove him wrong. “Deal.”

He shakes your hand and gives you a more genuine smile. “Can’t wait to see you in my jersey.”

“I can’t wait to teach you the Willow Waltz,” you counter, smiling back at him.

You glance at the clock on the scoreboard. It’s 12:30, where is Petra?

You turn to the door of the rink, eyes scanning the glass windows to the lobby and see her looking out at you, face downturned in disappointment.

“Hey, I gotta go, Petra is here.”

“When is the bet taking place?” Levi says, halting you from skating away.

You offer him your phone, opening a new contact for him to fill out. He smirks down at your phone as he types, and locks the phone, handing it back. “See you soon, princess.”

You wave and skate to the door of the rink, hopping off the ice and strolling into the lobby. Petra is headed for the exit, her bag over her shoulder.

“Petra, wait! I thought we were skating today.”

Petra looks back at you, eyes soft with emotion. “I don’t feel like skating.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, coming to a stop next to her. “You look upset.”

She frowns down at the ground. “I saw you flirting with Levi.”

You’re taken aback for a moment. “Flirting? No, we were just talking.”

“Sure looked like you were enjoying yourself,” she mutters.

“He was being an ass—as per usual—and insulting me. It’s a long story but we made a bet about who could last longer on the ice in the other’s skates.”

“Sounds like flirting to me,” Petra says, looking up at you with hard eyes.

“It’s not like that, Petra,” you insist. “It’s just a silly bet. I’m going to put him in his place.”

She shakes her head. “Whatever. I’m going to go. I’ll see you later.”

You call after her, but she walks out, leaving you distressed as you gather your jacket and take your skates off.

You: Petra, please talk to me. I’ll call it off, okay? It’s not worth upsetting you. Petra: Read at 5:47pm.

Hockey’s Strongest: Hey princess. Public tomorrow? You: Hockey’s strongest? Really? You: Tomorrow is my day off, so no. Hockey’s Strongest: Yeah, I really am hockey’s strongest. Impressive, I know. Hockey’s Strongest: Monday? You: You’re so full of yourself You: Yeah, I’ll see you Monday.

Petra ignored your texts all weekend, leaving you unsure if you should meet Levi for public today like you said. But you ended up deciding to go, since you have lessons after public anyway.

And there he is, waiting by the bleachers for you, a pair of hockey skates in his hands. “Ready, princess?”

“Stop calling me princess,” you whine. “I don’t even know where that came from.” You take the skates he offers you, and to your surprise, he pulls out a pair of black figure skates from his bag. “Where did you get those?”

“Kirstein. He originally trained to be a figure skater before getting into hockey.”

“So, he’s a better hockey player than the rest of you, I assume.”

He laughs and leads you over to the bench, where he sits and slips off his tennis shoes. You sit and do the same, lacing up the hockey skates as well as you can. Do you want them tight? Should they be looser in the ankle? You have no idea.

He quickly laces up his skates, flexing his ankles to test the fit. “These are weird.”

“You’re weird. Let’s go,” you say, pulling his wrist and leading him to the ice.

You step on carefully, unused to the large curve of hockey blades. You hold onto the boards as you try to find your balance. You look behind you to see Levi gingerly stepping onto the ice grasping the boards for balance as well.

“Oh, I hate this,” he murmurs. “Toe picks are so annoying.”

“Well, hockey skates aren’t any better,” you argue. “How do you balance on these things?”

“Because I am infinitely more talented than you,” he argues.

You both take a few steps away from the door, hands out to catch yourselves on the boards as needed.

“Piss off, I’m a nationally ranked skater,” you snap.

“Really?” The curiosity in his eyes is genuine. You find yourself smiling at his eager expression.

“Yeah, I went to Nationals when I was 19.”

“Did you place?”

“Third.”

“That’s actually kind of impressive,” he admits.

You take a few strokes towards the center of the ice, out of the way of the public skaters. The skates are awkward, and you find yourself reeling back and forth at times trying to find the right balance without a toe pick. Levi follows you slowly, clearly trying to skate like a hockey player.

You turn slowly back to him. “You’re right, I am impressive. Nationally ranked and I am killing it in these hockey skates.”

Of course, the second you say it, you lean too far forward, unused to not having toe picks to stop you, and go off the front of the skates, crashing into the ice. You groan, rolling over onto your back to catch your breath after knocking the wind out of yourself.

“Are you okay?” Levi calls as he skates over. He tries to stop, using the edge of the blade to counteract his momentum, but instead catches the toe pick in the ice, falling onto the ice and sliding into you, shoulder hitting yours. He sighs as he comes to a stop, rolling over onto his back. “Fuck these toe picks.”

You laugh at him, sitting up. He sits up as well, turning to you. “Well, we both ate shit, so maybe we can call it even?”

“Oh no,” he says, shaking his head. “We can call this one a freebie, but the bet is still on. Time to go skate some laps, princess.”

He stands up and forces you up to your feet, strong arms lifting you off the ice. He grabs your hand and pulls you behind him, making you squeal as you almost lose your balance and go tumbling again. His strokes are choppy and awkward as he tries to get used to the skates, but after a lap or two, you’re both more comfortable balancing.

You had originally intended to make him try some footwork, three-turns or twizzles, but you realize if you force him to do that, he’ll probably expect you to reciprocate with running drills. So instead, you both skate around the ice, talking and laughing, trying a new move here and there as you get braver and more at ease.

Before you know it, public is almost over. You glance up at the clock and look over at him. “So, looks like I won the bet.”

“Won? I believe the bet was one of us would last longer than the other,” he says, smirking at you. “So it’s a draw.”

“Or we both won?”

“So, you’ll be an ice girl at the game?”

You roll your eyes. “Only if you dance with me.”

He nods, throwing you a smile. “Fine.”

“Really? You’re just going to agree to skate with me?”

Levi shrugs. “Yeah, you did technically also win the bet.”

You hide a smile from him, leading him to the doors of the rink. You try to stop to get off and lose your balance again, almost flinging yourself face-first off of the ice. Levi catches your hand, pulling you swiftly into his chest.

You look up at him, fingers resting on his broad, firm pectorals as you catch your breath, brain swirling as you notice his arm wrapped around your waist. “Oh. Thanks.”

“No problem, princess,” Levi says with a smirk, blue eyes boring into yours. “Although, I think this means I won the bet?”

You pout up at him. “You don’t want to dance with me?”

He chuckles, and the sound of it sends shivers through your body. Which is pressed against his. So tightly.

“I’ll dance with you, princess. Whatever you want. As long as I get to see you in my jersey dancing at halftime.”

You groan, pushing his chest away from you to exit the ice. “Don’t remind me.”

You: P, please talk to me. It’s been days. I’m so sorry I hurt you. Petra: It’s just...why would you go after him if you know I like him? You: I’m not going after him. It’s just a bet, it’s silly. You: If it makes you feel better, I won but I lost, so I have to dance in the next half time show as a hockey girl. Petra: Well, this I’ve got to see. You: Levi also has to dance with me in front of his team. Petra: I also have to see that. Petra: How did this happen? You: Come skate public with me and I’ll tell you.

You’re skating with Petra around the rink on public after running through jumps with her. It’s been a little awkward, but you’re just glad she’s talking to you.

“So, he has to dance with you and you’re going to be a hockey girl for the half time show?”

You let out a dramatic sigh. “Yeah...It’s going to be embarrassing as hell.”

“Well, obviously I will be there to revel in the misery,” Petra says, smiling at you.

You laugh but it peters out as the subject of Levi hangs between the two of you. “Are you still mad?”

Petra shrugs. “I’m hurt, if anything. My mom thinks I’m being ridiculous. I’ve been throwing myself at Levi for...well, the last two years, and he’s barely so much as glanced my way. She said it’s not really fair to you if he...if he’s interested in you. And if you’re interested in him.”

You shrug back, feeling the tension at the back of your neck. “I mean...yeah, I get that. But Petra, you’re my best friend. I don’t want to hurt you. I know how much you’ve liked him, and I don’t want a guy to get in the way of our friendship.”

She shakes her head. “He won’t. It doesn’t matter, you know? I can’t control other people. But I can control my reactions and how I handle things. And I think...I’m going to finally take Oluo up on that date he’s been asking me out on forever.”

“You can be his date to watch Levi dance with me, I'm sure you’ll both get a kick out of it.”

AN: This chapter is a little more filler, but next will be Levi's first lesson with Reader and Reader's first practice with the dance team. Let me know what you think!