#but it was the first name that came to my head | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mononijikayu · 1 day ago

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water — gojo satoru.

"Satoru, lover….oh." you gasped again, your hands fisting in his hair as he kissed his way down your neck, your body arching into him. "I want—" "I know, I know." he whispered against your skin, his voice low and husky. "Just hold on, babe. I'm gonna take you exactly where you need to go." And with that, he surged forward, capturing your lips in another fiery kiss, his hands moving to grip your thighs, holding you steady as the intensity between you built, hotter and hotter until you felt like you were about to burst.

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: afab!, romance, smut, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, exhibitionism, kissing, making out, fingering (f! receiving), oral sex (f! receiving), rough sex, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (lover, babe, etc), characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, sorcerer! gojo satoru, sorcere! reader;

WORD COUNT: 5.5k words.

NOTE: this song hasn't been out of my head since it came out and now tyla has new music out and i just know it will slap and i will dance to it. i wanted to make sure satoru's first since i haven't written for him in a while!!! this begins this playlist!!! i hope you enjoy side 2000!!! i love you all and see you in the next one <3

masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 2000;

if you want to, tip! <3

YOU JUST WANTED TO ENJOY THE PARTY. It’s been a while since you’d found yourself trying to destress from work and the busy push and pull of life. And with Satoru’s schedule being the chaotic mess it was, it was always so rare for the two of you to go out for way too long and have fun together, with schedules that contradict each other.

So, when your next door neighbors finally debuted their pool at their house, they decided to throw a barbecue party for the neighborhood. When you told Satoru about it, he told you he was willing to take a day off. And knowing that, you knew you were taking the opportunity, even just for tonight, to loosen up. Isn’t that what life’s all about?

The evening sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the pool, the perfect backdrop for a party that was only just beginning to heat up. Laughter and music filled the air, but your eyes were locked on one person.

There he was, that bright eyed man Gojo Satoru, standing at the edge of the pool with his signature grin, a drink in hand. His bright snowy white hair was damp from a quick dip, droplets of water clinging to his skin as he watched you approach.

You could feel the heat of his gaze as you slid into the water, your body moving effortlessly through the cool pool. The tension between you was thick, the playful banter from earlier simmering into something much more intense as the night wore on.

"Looking a little wild tonight, babe." Satoru teased, his voice dripping with amusement as you swam up to him. He set his drink aside, his blue eyes glinting with a challenge. "Think you can keep up?"

Normally, you’d throw a sarcastic retort his way, but tonight was different. Tonight, something in you wanted more. The playful banter wasn’t enough. You wanted to feel his hands on your skin, to see if he could really make good on all those teasing words.

"You think you can handle me?" you shot back, your voice low and sultry as you moved closer, the water swirling around you both. The music pulsed in the background, the beat matching the thrum of anticipation coursing through your veins.

Satoru’s sly little grin widened, his fingers trailing lazily along the edge of the pool. "I don’t know, babe." he drawled, his voice laced with mock uncertainty. "But I’m more than willing to find out."

Without another word, you pushed forward, closing the distance between you, pressing your body against his. The cool water contrasted with the heat of his skin, and the contact sent a shiver of desire through you.

"Normally, lover boy…." you whispered, lips brushing against his reddening ear. "I can keep my cool. But tonight, I think…I think we need some heat, don’t you think?" You trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air between you.

Satoru's hands found your waist, his grip firm and possessive as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your neck. His blue orbs clashing against your own, mischief echoing in their very color.

"Good that you agree with me." he murmured, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your throat. "Because I like it when you’re a little wild."

Your heart pounded in your chest as his hands roamed over your body, the slickness of the water making every touch feel even more intimate. His fingers dug into your hips as he lifted you slightly, pressing you against the pool's edge, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

The intensity of his gaze pinned you in place, blue eyes darkened with desire. "Can you handle this, babe?" Satoru’s vibrating voice was a low, dangerous rumble, full of heat and promise. “Can you really?”

Your breath hitched, the tension between you unbearable. "Why don't you show me how hard you can go, lover boy?" you challenged, your voice breathless, your body already burning with anticipation. “I’m sure….I can try.”

With a wicked grin, Satoru leaned in passionately. It was almost immediate, the way he was capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His ferious tongue teased yours, slow and deliberate.

Your lover always makes it a point to have a shot in tasting every inch of you as his hands explored your body under the water. You moaned into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his damp hair as the kiss deepened, the world around you fading away.

Every brush of his lips, every caress of his hands set your body on fire, making you sweat despite the coolness of the water. You could feel him, hard and ready against you, and the need for more, so much more. Everything about him was overwhelming. And you loved it, you loved it too much.

"Satoru, oh—" you gasped as he kissed a trail down your neck, your body arching into him, desperate for every ounce of contact. "You're making me lose my breath like always."

"Good." he murmured against your skin, his hands sliding lower, gripping you tighter. "Because like always, I’m not done with you yet."

His mouth found yours again, the kiss deeper, hungrier this time, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. The heat between you both was scorching, your bodies pressed together in the water, moving in perfect rhythm. His lips traveled down your throat, his teeth grazing your collarbone, leaving you gasping, breathless.

"Then make me sweat, lover boy." you whispered against his ear, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw as his hands moved under the water, teasing your thighs, pulling you closer. “Make me feel good, like the water.”

Satoru groaned, a sound that sent a thrill through you. "I plan to, babe." he promised, his voice thick with desire as his hands gripped your waist.

He grins as he is lifting you slightly, pressing you harder against the pool's edge. "And when I'm done, you're gonna be begging me for more."

His words sent a shockwave of heat straight through you, and you could feel yourself trembling with need. The water around you felt like it was boiling, every touch from Gojo Satoru was igniting sparks of pleasure that raced through your body. He was taking over you, every bit of you — like he always does.

"Satoru, lover….oh." you gasped again, your hands fisting in his hair as he kissed his way down your neck, your body arching into him. "I want—"

"I know, I know." he whispered against your skin, his voice low and husky. "Just hold on, babe. I'm gonna take you exactly where you need to go."

And with that, he surged forward, capturing your lips in another fiery kiss, his hands moving to grip your thighs, holding you steady as the intensity between you built, hotter and hotter until you felt like you were about to burst.

Everything was just getting started.

And Gojo Satoru was still pretty hungry.

He liked having his fill of you every single time.

Your heart raced as Satoru’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to keep you anchored while the rest of your body felt like it was spiraling out of control. Every kiss, every brush of his lips against your skin sent jolts of electricity through you, making you lose track of time, place, and everything else that wasn’t him.

The party noises faded into the background. The splashing of the pool, the music, the chatter of distant voices, none of it mattered anymore. It was just you and Satoru, bodies pressed together, the water swirling lazily around you as if time itself had slowed to match the intensity of the moment.

"Still think you can keep up, babe?" he whispered against your lips, his breath hot and teasing. His eyes sparkled with that familiar mischief, but beneath it, there was a hunger. There was this endless raw, desperate need that mirrored your own. “I wanna go as fast as I can with you.”

"Don’t worry about me, lover boy." you shot back, breathless but determined, your hands sliding down his slick chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath. "I can handle you."

Gojo Satoru’s grin widened at the challenge, his lips pressing hard against yours in a bruising kiss. All you could do was let him win, as you groaned against the pleasure of his searing touch. Even the heat of the passion was burning on water.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if he wanted to memorize the feel of you beneath his fingertips. The water between you only heightened the sensation, the cool liquid a stark contrast to the heat that burned where his skin met yours.

"I’ll make you sweat more, babe. I promised you." he murmured, his voice low and rough, as if he could barely contain himself.

His lips trailed down your neck again, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed and nipped his way down to your collarbone, making you gasp with each new touch. You could feel your body responding to him, heat pooling low in your stomach, your breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps.

"Satoru, lover boy. Oh, you’re…." you moaned, his name slipping from your lips before you could stop it, the intensity of the moment overwhelming.

His hands slid down to your hips, gripping you tighter as he pressed you back against the edge of the pool. His lips were relentless, moving across your skin like fire, making you tremble beneath him. You were losing control, your body melting under his touch, every nerve lit up in anticipation.

"That’s right," he whispered, his voice dark and full of promise. "Let go for me."

You didn’t need any more convincing. Your hands tangled in his wet hair as you pulled him closer, your lips crashing against his in a feverish kiss, your body moving against his as if you couldn’t get enough. His hands slipped lower, teasing you, making you gasp as the pleasure built higher and higher.

"Satoru. You’re so…." you breathed, your voice trembling with need. "I can’t—"

"Yes, you can." he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "You can take it. I’ll take you there."

The heat between you was unbearable now, the tension building with every kiss, every touch, every whispered word. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your body straining for release, every nerve in your body on fire.

"Come on, baby," Satoru murmured, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you closer, his lips hot against your skin. "Just let go for me."

And you did. The pleasure hit you all at once, like a wave crashing over you, stealing your breath and making you cry out as your body shook with the intensity of it. You clung to Satoru, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he held you steady, riding out the aftershocks of your release with slow, deliberate kisses that left you trembling.

"That’s my pretty babe, hm?” he whispered, his voice soft now, his lips brushing yours in a tender kiss. "You did so good."

You could barely catch your breath, your body still buzzing with the afterglow as you leaned back against the edge of the pool, your legs still wrapped around him. You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, and saw that familiar, lazy grin on his face—the one that said he wasn’t quite finished with you yet.

"Think you’ve still got some energy left?" he teased, his hands moving up your sides, his thumbs brushing your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. "You think I can’t keep up? Haven’t I shown you something good, lover boy?"

His grin widened, and he leaned in close, his lips hovering just above yours. "Oh, I know you can, babe." he murmured, his breath hot against your lips. "But I’m not done making you sweat just yet, you know?”

You both disappeared, finally slipping away from the crowd and into the shadows, your lips still locked in a feverish kiss. The night air was thick with the scent of chlorine and heat, but all you could focus on was Satoru. Only him. His hands, his mouth, his body pressed against yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

The two of you managed to find yourselves in a secluded corner, hidden from prying eyes. His lips trailed down once more your neck, and before you knew it, you were pressed up against the cool tile wall, your skin burning with need as his mouth worked wonders against your throat.

“You’re wild tonight, babe.” Satoru murmured, his voice thick with desire, fingers grazing your hips, teasing. His usual cocky grin spread across his face as he kissed you again, this time slower, deeper, as if savoring every second.

“And you love it, don’t you?” you shot back, breathless as you tangled your hands in his hair. The thrill of the night, of being wrapped in his arms, made your pulse race, your body crave more.

Without a word, Satoru dropped to his knees before you, and your breath hitched. You knew what he was doing. His hands parted your legs as his gaze burned into yours, the heat of his anticipation palpable in the air.

The smirk on his face sent a shiver through you, but that shiver turned into pure heat when his lips met your inner thigh, trailing kisses up, up, until you could feel his hot breath against your core.

“Satoru…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your body aching for his touch.

He didn’t hesitate. His tongue found you, and your head fell back against the wall, a soft moan escaping your lips as he devoured you like a man starved. You bit your lip as a plethora of pleasured moans released from your lips.

There was no restraint, no gentleness—just hunger. His mouth was messy, his tongue moving in ways that had your legs trembling, and the slick from your arousal coated his chin as he worked you with an unrelenting passion.

The sounds he made, deep, guttural groans of satisfaction, it only heightened the pleasure, and the way his hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady. Everything about it made you feel like you were about to come undone at any moment.

If anything, he was too hungry for your cunny. And he wouldn’t stop even if you wanted him too. He was hungry for you. He always was. He lapped at you, his tongue swirling and flicking with precision, like he was trying to draw out every moan, every gasp from your lips.

“Satoru… oh my god….” you gasped, your fingers threading through his white hair rougher as your body arched towards him, desperate for more.

He pulled back for just a moment, his chin glistening with your slick, eyes dark with lust as he grinned up at you. He’s having fun with this, he always has. If anything about Satoru, he doesn’t like playing fair when it comes to eating.

“You taste so damn good, babe.” he growled, his voice low, feral, before diving back in. “How come you’ve become sweeter?”

“You…You tasted me last night, oh—”

“What can I say, babe? You always just get sweeter for me. And I love it.”

You groaned against his words. But he just laughed once again and dived in. If one had thought that he couldn’t go any deeper, any rougher, any hungrier, any messier — they would be wrong. He can go even more than that. You knew your lover way too well.

The way his mouth moved against you was nothing short of sinful. Sloppy, messy, and so damn good. It was as if he couldn’t get enough, like he was trying to consume every part of you. Your body was shaking, legs threatening to give out as the pleasure built inside you, and all you could do was grip his hair tighter, riding his tongue as he pulled you closer and closer to the edge.

His fingers slid inside you while his mouth never left its place, curling perfectly as he stretched you out. The combination of his fingers and his mouth working together had you spiraling, your moans echoing through the air, louder now, unable to hold back as your body begged for release.

“Fuck, Satoru, don’t stop. Please, don’t.” you moaned, barely coherent, the intensity too much, but you didn’t want it to end.

He didn’t slow down, he had no reason to. Not when you’re egging him on. Not when he wants you too badly. Not when it all just felt so good. You could feel his tongue moving with expert precision, his fingers thrusting deeper, harder, until you were teetering on the edge of oblivion.

You could feel the tension building, that delicious, overwhelming pressure that made it impossible to think of anything other than him—his mouth, his fingers, the way he was devouring you like you were the last meal he’d ever get.

And then, without warning, you shattered. The orgasm ripped through you, your body convulsing as pleasure flooded every nerve, and Satoru didn’t stop. His fingers continued to move, his tongue still lapping at you, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until you were trembling, breathless, completely undone.

He pulled back slightly, his lips and chin slick with your sweet decadent release, and he looked up at you with a satisfied grin. That sly look, he always has that excitement when he makes you feel this way. Gojo Satoru believes he always has to win, one way or the other.

“You taste like heaven, babe. A hundred percent heaven.” he murmured, his voice rough, hoarse, as he licked his lips, savoring the taste of you.

You could barely catch your breath, your body still trembling as you leaned back against the rough brick wall for support, staring down at him with a dazed smile. Sweat permeated through your skin as you caught yourself back to some sense again.

“You’re unbelievable, Satoru.” you muttered, chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to recover from the intensity of it all.

Satoru took a moment to meet your orbs. Once more, they echoed that same desire. He was still hungry, he was still wanting more. Your lover rose to his feet, his body pressing against yours once again as he captured your lips in a heated kiss once again.

You moan against the roughness of his desire, pushing against his tongue with your own. Almost instantly, you could taste yourself on his lips, the remnants of your slick still clinging to him, and it only made you crave him more.

“You love it, babe.” he whispered against your mouth, his hands sliding up your body, possessive, confident. “And well, so do I.”

You couldn’t deny it. The way he had you, completely under his control, yet giving you everything you wanted, was intoxicating. You were hooked, the moment you met Satoru. You knew that when you let him get deeper and deeper, you couldn’t live without him.

Without his kisses, his eyes, his warmth, his touch. One way or another, you were trapped with your want. You wanted more of him, like a greedy little vixen who won’t stop until you get what you wanted. And there was no turning back.

As you both pulled away and began dressing once again, the heat of the moment still thrumming between you, Satoru watched you with that mischievous grin, his cerulean eyes glinting in the low light. His hands brushed over your waist, teasing, as you adjusted your clothes, but there was still that lingering tension, that promise of more to come.

As you both stepped out of the secluded spot, you shot him a playful wink. “Try to keep up next time, Satoru.”

He chuckled, his smirk widening. “You think you can outlast me, doll?”

You grinned, leaning in to kiss him roughly, your lips pressing against his with that same intensity from earlier. “Oh I know I can.”

And you wanted to prove that yourself.

Instead of going back to the party, it was your turn.

It was your turn to be just as hungry for him.

You took his hand, grinning at him and pulling him away.

There were still unoccupied guest beds after all.

Gojo Satoru couldn’t shake the feeling that he loved making you sweat even more than before. The heat of the moment radiated between you as you found yourselves in one of the bedrooms, the faint thump of the party still audible in the background, but all you could focus on was each other. The room felt electric, filled with anticipation and desire, and the scent of your skin only heightened his need.

You weren’t sure whose bedroom it was, but that hardly mattered. What mattered was the way he had you bent over, your hands gripping the edge of the bed as he pressed into you from behind. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pressure that sent shivers through your spine.

“God, you feel amazing.” he murmured with desire. “Babe, how are you always so good?”

You could hear how his voice reverberated low and rough as he playfully ran his hands over the mound of your ass, savoring the way it responded to his playful touch. Each squeeze elicited soft gasps from your lips, and he couldn’t help but smile wide at how perfectly you arched for him, begging for more of him in you.

With one hand pressed against your back, you guided him deeper and deeper inside of you, ensuring your body was perfectly positioned for him. The way your skin glistened bright under the low light was nothing short of divine, and every movement sent waves of heat coursing through every fiber of Satoru’s being.

The greedy echo sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, a rhythmic echo that felt almost sacred to him. Gojo Satoru likes to think he was a worshiper and your body was his temple. And you were his god. You were his everything.

Each and every time he made love to you, it was like holy hymns reverberating through the air, fueling his desire further. He loved the feeling of being so deeply connected to you, the way your bodies moved together in perfect harmony.

“Tell me you like this, babe.” he demanded, his voice husky with lust as he picked up the pace, driving into you with a steady force. “Tell me you feel gooddddd, oh—”

His hand shifted from your back to your hip, fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer, using his grip to push you further onto him. Everything felt like a burning pandemonium as he got deeper in crevices in you that you never thought existed before.

You could feel your mouth watering, drooling as he pushed in and out of you, like he memorized the map and was finding it again, over and over. It was an interesting thing, how you could feel ever so alive just by being in his arms. By being so full of him. You know your lover boy feels the same thing too.

“Yes, yes, Satoru!” you gasped, your breath hitching as he hit that perfect spot, the pressure building with every thrust. You could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach, and each of his movements only intensified it.

“Good girl, my good girl. My pretty little babe.” he praised, the raw satisfaction in his voice making your heart race even faster.

Gojo Satoru seems to thrive on this, every single time. He’d always been crazy. He knew that much. Much more so in bed. It was hard to find that genuinity of intimacy. Not only in the innocence of adoration, but the crazy roughness of sensuality.

So when he met you and you matched his crazy, he found himself thriving. He found himself living pleasure through you, in ways he’d never known before. And he’d been glad for that. He’d been glad for you.

It was the way you responded to him, the way you melted under his touch every time you made love. It was the sweat that bound your flesh together. It was the way you would bite him as he pounded deeper into you. It was the way his fingers would dig onto your thighs and mark them.

It was the way your nails would create a mess of bloody constellations on the neatness of his skin. It was the feeling of his fat balls slapping against your ass, the way your body reacted, was intoxicating. Every sound you made, every gasp, felt like music to his ears.

Everything you did, everything you gave him — it had made him feel so alive.

He leaned over you, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this. Just for me, hm? Just for me.”

His words sent a thrill through you, and you couldn’t help but push back against him, wanting more, craving that deep connection that seemed to pulse between you. “More, Satoru. Please, don’t stop.”

He smirked slyly and immediately pushed to oblige, driving into you with renewed fervor> You cried out as the heat of the moment enveloping you both, his body pushing closer and closer to you, as though he wanted it to merge.

Each thrust sent shockwaves through your body, igniting every nerve ending as you lost yourself in the rhythm, caught in a world that existed only for the two of you. You could care less if anyone were to walk in and see how deplorable this situation was. You could care less if someone screams in shock.

No, nothing else mattered. It was pleasure that mattered. There was only you in this universe, only him and you — wet by the water of sweat that pools between the desire to make each other whole.

“Damn, you’re perfect, babe.” he groaned, the sound vibrating through your body as he leaned into you more, the weight of him pressing you down, anchoring you to the moment. “So, so perfect.”

The way he played with you, using your body to bring himself pleasure, sent you spiraling into pure ecstasy. Nothing else has come close to making you both feel alive. It was just this moment that made you feel that life was worth living.

Just the two of you, the heat, the pleasure, and the way he made you feel alive. This was all that life needs. This was all what the Strongest needed to feel alive. Jujutsu was given to him from the moment he was born, it was as natural as breathing. But this moment with you, taking you as his own. Everything about this was his humanity.

This was primal. This was instinct. It was trial and error. And it was crazy. Nothing else will come close to how much he loves to be an animal with you. You groaned as you bit his shoulder hard, blood spoiling against his sweat. He groaned in pleasure, before grinning. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, and the anticipation built until you could hardly contain it, ready to let go and embrace the bliss that awaited you.

Satoru's pace quickened, each thrust becoming more urgent, more desperate. You could feel him deep inside you, filling you completely, and every time he drove into you, your body responded with a jolt of pleasure that made your vision blur. You were utterly lost in the moment, overwhelmed by the sensations he was drawing out of you.

“God, you’re so tight, babe.” he groaned, his voice strained as he struggled to keep his composure. “How do you always know how to cage my cock? How do you always make it know where it belongs?”

He loved the way your body wrapped around him, how every inch of you seemed to beg for more. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixing with your soft moans, creating a symphony of pleasure that echoed around you.

“Don’t hold back, Satoru.” you urged, your voice a breathy whisper that barely escaped your lips. “I want all of you, Satoru. Just like this. Come. Just do it.”

That demand of yours sent a rush of adrenaline through him, and he grinned against your shoulder, he himself biting there as you groaned like a prey against the hunter. He lifted his mouth, and stared at his masterpiece for a little while longer. That was surely to leave a mark. He snickers.

“You asked for it, babe.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you up against him, using his strength to drive you deeper onto him. The change in angle had you gasping, your head falling back against his shoulder as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

“You feel so good.” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “I could do this all night.”

“Then do it.” you urged, your body instinctively arching back into him, eager for every thrust, every delicious stretch. “Make me feel it.”

He laughs as he hits hard at one thrust, making your body shake against the covers. You groan hard as you try to hold on for dear life. You knew what you egged him to do. Then continued thrusting into you with a fierce intensity that had you moaning his name, your body responding eagerly to each movement.

It was as if the world outside had faded away, and all that existed was the connection between you—his body, your body, moving in perfect unison. The pleasure built inside you like a coiled spring, tightening with every thrust. You could feel that familiar tension, that edge creeping closer, and all you could think about was how good he felt, how right it all was.

“Satoru, I’m coming. Oh my god—” you started, but the words died on your lips as he hit that sweet spot again, sending shockwaves through your body.

“Yeah? You gonna come for me?” he teased, his voice thick with lust as he leaned closer, kissing down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. The sensation made your entire body tingle, and you could only nod, the words lost in a haze of pleasure.

“Tell me how much you want it, babe.” he demanded, his voice a low growl that made your heart race even faster.

“More, please! I need to—ah!” The plea escaped your lips as he thrust deeper, the pleasure overwhelming. “I need to come, Satoru!”

“Then let go,” he urged, his voice dripping with seduction. “I want to feel you fall apart for me.”

With his words wrapping around you like a spell, the tension finally snapped, and you cried out as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before. It was like you had seen the light for the first time with him.

It was so delicate and pure, that echo of unadulterated bliss that sent your body shuddering in pleasure. Satoru continued to thrust into you, riding out your orgasm with slow, deliberate movements that sent aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you.

“Just like that, babe. You feel so fucking good.” he groaned, his own breath ragged as he watched you unravel beneath him.

The sight of you losing yourself was intoxicating, even more so your juices mixing with his in a watery flow within your crevices. And he couldn’t help but feel that rush of pride at how he could make you feel this way.

As you came down from your high, Gojo Satoru slowed his movements, still keeping you close as he pressed kisses along your back. The warmth of his body enveloped you, and you reveled in the afterglow, the way your heart raced in time with his.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with genuine concern as he pulled back to look at you, his blue eyes searching your face.

“Better than okay, babe.” you replied with a breathless laugh, turning to meet his gaze. “That was… incredible.”

He grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “Just wait until round two. I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your smile. “You’re insatiable, Satoru.”

“Maybe so, babe.” he replied, leaning in to capture your lips in a soft kiss. “But I think you love it.”

You couldn’t deny it. The thrill of the night, the way he made you feel—it was a heady mix of excitement and desire that left you craving more. As you both pulled away, he gently squeezed your waist, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“Let’s give them something to talk about when we go back out there.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what do you have in mind?”

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “I’ll show you.”

And with that, he swept you into another kiss, ready to take on the world outside, but knowing that this was only the beginning of your night together. You had a lot more to sweat in water together, whatever the form.

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mymegrokosmos · 2 days ago

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It isn't hard to get Seungcheol's attention. At least, not usually. He tends to keep an eye out in case you need anything. He's usually the first one to notice the slightest sign of discomfort or to catch you dissociation before you even notice you're tuning out yourself.

Not tonight it seems.

You've tried numerous times over the past hour to get a moment alone with your boyfriend. To ask if he would mind if you called it a night. It never seems to pan out.

First Chan barrelled right through your conversation, bless him he didn't even notice you were talking and he really did mean well. Then Soonyoung nearly spilled his drink all down you and you'd retreated to the bathroom to clean up.

You'd come back out mid game of billiards and it felt somehow scandalous to interrupt. That had distracted you for a while you had to admit. Cheol looked good in his plain black shirt and jeans all the time but tonight, matching Hansol's backwards cap with his own and with the way he slid some of the trickier shots home, you had found yourself feeling a little flushed.

You'd tried to catch him on the way to the kitchen to refill his drink only to get sidelined by a very determined Mingyu who apparently had points to prove. Jihoon looked so exasperated you'd taken pity and offered him a break from Gyu's pouting argument for a while only to lose track of your boyfriend in the house once again.

It wasn't like you weren't familiar with the place. You were over at Seungkwan and Jeonghan's at least twice a week. Somehow you still managed to struggle finding Seungcheol until you stumbled into the basement to find them already bickering about poker teams.

Now they were playing their own little version of a round robin tournament and you'd finally had enough. You tried catching your boyfriend's eye but he was completely focused on whatever Jihoon was saying. You didn't want to interrupt but you were dead on your feet.

You trudged upstairs, throwing on a tired smile when Jisoo appeared in the living room. He waved. You waved back.

"You heading out?"

You nodded. "I think it's time I called it a night. I have cozy pyjamas and a cup of hot tea calling my name back home."

He laughed, stepping forward to pull you into an awkward side hug without spilling the handful of drinks he was balancing in one arm. You patted his back.

"It was nice seeing you Shua. You're still coming by Saturday for that baking book club right?"

He nodded as he pulled back, readjusting the drink distribution to balance them across two hands. "I wouldn't miss it."

"I'll see you Saturday then."

"Mm, you want me to grab Coups for you?"

You shook your head. "No, let him finish his game. It seemed like he and Hannie were on a winning streak. I don't want to pull him away when he's having a good time."

Jisoo blinked at you. "Are you sure?"

"Yes Shua, I'm sure." You smiled. "I'll get an uber. He deserves to enjoy himself, especially after the week he's had. I'll text him when I'm on my way."

He didn't seem convinced but Jisoo nodded. "Okay, get home safe then. Text me when you get back?"

You kissed his cheek. "I'll text you and Hannie both." You promised.

He disappeared downstairs and you made your way through the living room back to the front entrance. It didn’t take long to grab your purse from the closet and slip your shoes back on. You were just pulling out your phone to schedule a car when footsteps down the hall startled you.

Before you could turn a hand came down to rest on your shoulder. "Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?"

You leaned back into him, tilting your head to look at your boyfriend. "Shua tattled on me huh?"

Cheol just blinked at you, his other hand finding it's usual place on your waist. "He said you looked wiped. His words, not mine."

You closed your eyes, just letting yourself rest against him for a minute. The hand on your waist slid down to your hip, thumb hooking into the belt loop of your jeans. He pulled you closer, hand on your shoulder rubbing a little warmth back into you.

"Baby? You haven't even left the house yet and you're already freezing. Why didn't you come get me?"

"You were busy."

You could feel the exhale as he sighed, pulling back from you slightly. "You know I'll always make time for you."

You turned, shaking your head and reaching up to cup his face in both hands. "Cheol, you shouldn't have to. Not always."

He opened his mouth to protest but stopped, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned back on his heels to listen. One thing about Seungcheol was that as a partner he would always hear you out before pointing out why he disagreed or arguing about anything.

Your communication wasn't always perfect but you had a system and, for the most part, it worked pretty well for you both. So you smiled and leaned up to peck his lips before continuing. That appeased him a little. Not much but he had his listening ears on and tuned into what you were saying.

"You were having fun and I'm capable of getting home on my own. I would have texted you to let you know I was safe but you should also be able to spend time with your friends without constantly having to check up on me."

He frowned and your hands slid down to rest against his neck, one moving to rub his bicep soothingly. He melted a little at the affection but you knew he still didn't like it.

"I would have told you, I promise. I tried so many times earlier but I kept getting dragged off by someone or other and you kept getting distracted. It's a little hard to tell you I'm ready to head home when I'm in the middle of mediating JunHao bickering and trying not to pick sides."

He softened at that, eyes fond as the barest hint of a smile curled at the corners of his lips. "Yeah that never ends well."

You nodded, stepping a little closer. "Go finish your game. I'll call an uber and be in bed nice and warm and ready for cuddles when you get back."

He glanced over his shoulder and then took your hand, bringing it up to his lips. "Call me when you get back?"

You smiled. "Promise."

He nodded. "Okay. But wear my jacket. It's cold. I'll get a ride back with Jihoon or Wonwoo."

You leaned up to steal a kiss. "Mm deal. Call me when you're on the way?"

That seemed like a fair compromise for both of you. He nodded, stepping back to get his jacket from the closet and helping you into it.

"I will. Be safe. I'll see you soon."

He insisted on zipping you into his jacket, putting the uber charge on his card and standing with you until the car pulled into the drive. You smiled as he opened the car door for you and leaned up for a last kiss before bundling you into the vehicle.

"Bye, I love you Cheollie."

"I love you too baby. See you soon."

#seventeen #boyfriend #svt #svt drabbles #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol #scoups

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darkmatilda · 1 day ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you got used to running away from the consequences of your actions, but it turned out to be incredibly difficult when the consequences are your coworker and their name is spencer reid.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x fem!baureader, canon typical violence and topics, season 1/2 reid, GLASSES REID, queen elle greenaway herself, gideon being a little creep (as usual), reader clearly ovulating lmao, mention of a trauma connected with drowning, mention of one night stands of the reader, inspired by taylor swift song "the bolter", dominant reader (mostly), spencer being awkwardly sweet

𝐚/𝐧: i should be doing my history assigment now instead of writing another freaky long fic but here i am

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 10k

Fuck, you thought the moment you realized you’d woken up in someone’s arms.

Double fuck, you added as it dawned on you that this wasn’t some random guy you met at a club, the kind who’d bought you a drink, whose name you hadn’t even tried to remember, and whose life you could easily disappear from without a second thought. Instead, you were lying in the bed of a coworker—a teammate you saw almost every single day.

Triple fuck.

Maybe even quadruple, because of how much you liked it. That is, lying next to his bare skin. In a position where one of his arms was wrapped around your body, his face buried in your hair, in the curve of your neck. His breathing steady, occasionally tickling you. Pleasant. It was pleasant.

You were up to five fucks already, and you hadn’t even left the bed yet.

There was no doubt in your mind that you were going to do it. By the time Spencer Reid opened his gorgeous, chocolate-brown eyes, you’d already be gone. Long gone, behind the wheel of your car, speeding at the maximum legal limit with the window cracked open, despite the icy gusts of winter air rushing in.

You’d been perfecting this strategy for years. First, you’d lose yourself in strangers’ sheets with moans and gasps, only to slip away in the early morning, filled with a thrill even greater than what you’d felt just a few hours before. Why? A very good question. You wished you had the answer to it.

This situation shouldn’t have been an exception, though theoretically, it already was. After all, you’d never even considered doing this with people you knew so well. People you couldn’t just ghost without consequence. People you—leaning over to check the clock on the bedside table—were supposed to see again in less than an hour!

You rubbed your sleepy face with your hand, silently cursing yourself. If only you’d been drunk the night before. People dodge the consequences of far worse actions than having a sex with a coworker simply by blaming it on alcohol. But no—when all of this started, you’d been completely sober and fully aware. Incredibly turned on, it’s worth mentioning.

Before the memories of the previous night could start ambushing you, you scrambled out of the bed. First, of course, you had to untangle yourself from the mess of limbs—carefully, so as not to wake him. You gently moved his arm aside and adjusted the blanket over his hips. Where this sudden care and tenderness came from was yet another very interesting question.

Tiptoeing around the bedroom, you gathered your clothes. Your panties and bra you shamelessly clutched in one hand, intending to shove them into your jacket pocket later. Before heading for it, though, you paused for a brief moment in front of the bed, in front of the still-sleeping Reid.

The blanket, pushed low, revealed the upper half of his lean body—his prominent collarbones and the smooth, even tone of his delicious skin. His chest rose and fell steadily, his hand resting in the spot where you’d been lying just moments ago. As if you were still there.

What a shame it was only a one-time thing.

Some people, looking at his innocent appearance, had no idea how much he had to offer. Their loss, you thought, leaving the apartment on shaky legs, feeling soreness in most of the muscles in your body. When you finally got inside the car and the wind began to cool your flushed face and cheeks, the guilt faded away. You didn’t feel as good as usual, your heart wasn’t racing, and the adrenaline wasn’t surging through your veins the way you craved. Strange. Did it have something to do with who your one-night lover was? You shook your head, trying not to dwell on it.

You’d had a really great time together that one night, but that was it. You were officially leaving it behind, forgetting it.

Just like you always did.

It wasn’t an exception, you told yourself, as you took a quick shower in your own apartment.

It wasn’t an exception, and the fact that you worked together didn’t change a thing.

It wasn’t an exception, you kept affirming, crossing the threshold of the office with still-damp hair and the buttons of your fitted black shirt unevenly fastened.

“Are we not greeting each other anymore?” someone’s question snapped you back to reality.

Lost in thought, you realized you’d passed your friend Elle’s desk without even nodding at her. She was sitting on the edge of it, arms crossed over her chest, her dark eyes seeming to pierce through your skull, sifting through your memories. She was sharp—sometimes, too sharp. With nothing more than a sly smile, she let you know she knew something was going on.

"Sorry. I'm still half asleep," you said, approaching her for a hug. You let out a chuckle. "Or maybe I'm completely asleep if I missed such a hot chick in my path."

Elle pushed you away by a finger’s length, her eyebrows raised in a challenge.

"You think you're gonna distract me with compliments? Better start talking—who's the guy?"

“What guy?” someone asked, surprisingly not you, but Derek, who stepped into the room with a massive cup of coffee, nearly dropping it as he tried to greet both of you. You loved the laid-back atmosphere of the early mornings at work, when you had a moment to chat about whatever. “Well, good morning, ladies. From the looks on your faces, I’m guessing you had a nice weekend?”

"From that huge cup of coffee, I’m guessing you did too, if you need that much caffeine. Partying on a Sunday night, you should be ashamed," you replied sarcastically, eyeing your coworker.

His eyebrows shot up.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," he whistled.

"She's just trying to change the subject," Elle informed him. "I was just interrogating our little bolter.

You rolled your eyes at hearing that nickname again. They’d started using it a while ago, as soon as they found out how you handled things with guys. There was nothing judgmental about it—they just really liked to tease you.

It took Morgan a moment to piece together what was going on. When he did, laughter burst from his lips.

"Is that why your hair is still wet? You left in such a rush you didn’t even have time to dry it?"

"She was afraid the sound of the hair dryer would wake the guy up," Elle snorted. "And, heaven forbid, they’d actually have to talk to each other."

“Oh, screw you both,” you muttered, aiming to act your age—in this case, by flipping them off. Before you could, Derek caught your hand, stopping you from spinning on your heel and stomping back to your desk.

“You know,” he said, suddenly a touch more serious, as if the question genuinely intrigued him, “I can’t help but wonder why you actually do it. For me, personally, waking up next to a lovely lady who made the night worthwhile is kind of the best part...”

"Are you asking about the psychological aspects behind it?" You raised an eyebrow. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Elle tilt her head slightly, clearly intrigued. "I don’t know. Something from childhood, probably. Everything stems from there, doesn’t it? Or maybe the reason is something else," you lowered your voice to a near conspiratorial whisper, leaning in closer to their faces as if about to reveal some great secret. "I simply enjoy it. As they say, you don’t pry into people’s bedrooms or wallets."

"That rule doesn’t apply to our friendship, sweetheart."

You chuckled at the remark; sometimes, you really did share a lot with each other. In any case, your response had nothing to do with modesty or shame on those topics. You chose to answer evasively because you didn’t feel like describing how addictive that feeling of escape was, how much control it seemed to give you. How your heart would race in those moments, and how all your fucking lives seemed to flash before your eyes then.

It was sick, many people have already told you that. Still, you couldn't stop.

"Good morning, everyone." Suddenly, JJ burst in, clutching a briefcase the size of an encyclopedia under her arm. "Hotch wants to see us all in five minutes, we have a new case. You'll find out everything in a moment, but I’ll say right away that it looks like a little trip is in store. Bring warm jackets."

"Mercy, not another case from Alaska..." Morgan started, rolling his eyes.

"Not this time. By the way, has Reid already arrived?"

Elle glanced around and shrugged.

"I don’t see him. Besides, if he were here, he’d already be telling us everything about the weather conditions in Alaska."

"Strange," Derek muttered under his breath. "I can’t remember the last time he was late."

You fixed your gaze on your shoes, as if there was something fascinating about them.

"It’s not like him," JJ agreed, a little worried. "Maybe I should call him..."

"He’s definitely stuck in traffic," you interjected quickly, forcing yourself to sound casual, though you tensed up involuntarily. The thought of confronting Spencer slightly scared you, though you wouldn't admit it to yourself. "I’m almost 100% sure. Anyway, shouldn’t we be heading out?"

You changed the subject, nodding toward the exit with your chin. And then, by accident, you made eye contact with Elle.

Elle, who knew you better than anyone.

Elle, who always, always knew when you were lying or hiding something. And whose eyes widened when she realized.

Feeling the blood rush to your ears, you subtly shook your head, silently pleading for her not to speak. But she, to your horror, opened her mouth.

"You two, go ahead," she directed at Morgan and JJ. Then she fixed her intense, demanding gaze directly on you. "We’ll join you in a minute. I need to have a word with our girl, privately."

Barely were you alone when she exclaimed:

"Did you sleep with Reid?!"

"Goddammit, Elle, could you say it any louder?" you hissed, glancing toward the door where your colleagues had just disappeared moments ago.

"Why not? So, you had sex with Dr. Spencer Reid...!"

"FOR GOD'S SAKE..."

"...our genius boy and a member of the same team?!"

"I’m fucking sure even Strauss heard that in her office," you sighed. "But yes, I did it, I regret it, and most importantly, this has to stay between us. Not a word to Derek, JJ, or Penelope, understood?"

To your surprise, Elle burst into laughter and raised her hands in a defensive gesture.

"You know I wouldn’t tell anyone without your permission. I was just playing around Anyway..." she sighed. "I find it hard to believe. You two? Honestly, there’s always been something between you…”

"No," you interrupted her sharply. The words left a ringing in your head. "There was nothing between us."

"So, you decided to sleep together just like that, out of boredom?"

"We need to go, Elle. The rest is probably waiting for us."

You moved forward, your friend trailing right behind you, like that little voice in the back of your mind urging you to order pizza at midnight.

"Oh, one more thing. You said you regret it. So, what, our genius didn’t meet your expectations..."

"End of discussion..."

"Last thing, you told me not to mention it to Garcia, Morgan, or JJ. What about Hotch? Can I tell him?"

You couldn’t keep up the seriousness any longer and burst into laughter, joined by Elle.

"Tell me what?" a voice called from behind you.

Fuck multiplied by twelve thousand seventy-nine.

Somehow, your boss appeared in the same hallway, probably heading to the same room where you were going to be briefed on your next case. You noticed how all the amusement disappeared from Elle’s face. You both exchanged a look, like teenagers caught smoking a cigarette by their parents.

You both turned, silently negotiating through eye contact—arguing, really, over who should speak up and save the situation. It fell to you.

"Um... we were wondering... if we should tell you... that we absolutely love your tie. It's so... red and... long..." It was only then that you noticed it was a gray tie. "Not that one. Another one. Absolutely stunning. And I’m actually looking for a birthday gift for a friend. He’s... a huge fan of... ties."

You tried not to look at Elle, fearing she might burst into laughter. She already seemed like she was suffocating inside. Improvisation was never your strong suit; you always had to say too much.

"So, I hope you don’t mind me asking where you bought it. That’s exactly the kind of tie I’m looking for. Red..." You bit your tongue before you could say long again. "Good quality. One that you’d just want to untie..."

Hotch’s completely stoic expression didn’t help.

"Oh." Suddenly, you realized you hadn’t even greeted him. "Good morning, boss. Are you having a good day?"

"Average," he replied, completely ignoring your whole tie spiel.

Silence fell. Elle stared at the floor, and the corners of her mouth twitched dangerously.

"Let’s get to work," Hotch suggested, clearing his throat. He extended his hand, gesturing for you to go ahead. As soon as you turned, you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. "I got it from Hailey," he spoke to you in a quieter tone, opening the door to the room where the rest of the team was already gathered. "But if you really care, I can ask her where she bought it."

Sometimes you had a hard time figuring out if the guy was serious or just messing with you.

"I’d be greatly appreciative," you managed to say, quickly passing him and taking a seat at the long table.

You heard Elle whispering to Morgan something that started with "You won’t believe this…” and contained a combination of the words red, long, and untie.

Actually, saying that all the team members were inside wasn’t entirely true. One of them was missing.

"Reid’s late?" Penelope wondered, just as your gaze fell on his empty seat.

"Let’s start without him," Hotch decided. "This can’t wait. JJ?"

She handed out the case files to everyone and moved to the screen, where the most important details and photos related to the case were being displayed. Before he could even say a word, a late Spencer burst into the room.

"Sorry, really, sorry..." he said frantically. "I know this never happens, but I overslept..."

He stopped mid-sentence as soon as his eyes met yours. It felt like he might as well have shouted, Hey, you know we had sex last night? and it would have been less suggestive. Or maybe it was just your inner paranoid voice talking.

"You could’ve informed us you’d be late," Hotch said.

Reid was still desperately trying to catch your eye, even though you were determinedly focusing on everything except him. It wasn’t until a moment later that he realized Hotch had said something to him, and he sighed in surprise, snapping back to reality.

"Oh... yeah, I should have. Definitely. Actually... I actually sent a message to y/n."

At that moment, all eyes turned to you. You furrowed your brow. There was no way he had written or called you — you would have heard it… which, of course, didn’t mean you would have replied. Your hand went to your pocket…

"I forgot my phone."

Only then did you look at Reid, your expression should have given him the message you intended. I left my phone at your place...

“I’ll look for it for you,” he offered. He immediately panicked, probably realizing that you'd rather keep your night together a secret. “I mean, I’ll help you look for it. If you want…”

“Reid, please, sit down,” Hotch stopped him from completely humiliating both of you. At that point, you had a burning desire to bang your head on the table. “And close the door.”

“Right…”

He followed the order and took a seat next to JJ, across from you, sending a small, uncertain smile. You didn’t react, your face remained unreadable, even irritated by how much he was giving away about what had happened between you.

Still, seeing his slightly wrinkled shirt, the same one he wore the previous evening when he opened the door for you, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. Those small imperfections in the fabric were, of course, from how hastily you had removed it and tossed it to the floor, where it had stayed all night…

The first time you had met outside of work, as two ordinary friends and not colleagues, was a few weeks ago. You had to drop by his place in the evening to pick up some documents you needed for the next day at work.

“Thank god,” you sighed as the door opened. “Elle isn’t picking up at all. I have no idea what she’s doing or where she is, and I seriously need this. If I don’t bring it, I can pretty much say goodbye to BAU.”

Only then did you lift your gaze to the man standing in front of you, too absorbed in your panic over the missing papers to actually take a good look at him. One hand rested on the doorframe, dressed in a sweater vest with the collar of a shirt peeking out beneath it.

“I’m glad I could help,” he replied. Thin-framed glasses rested on his nose, which he only wore occasionally for work. It was a shame because they suited him well. “But I’m sure Hotch wouldn’t throw you out just for being one day late.”

“I’ve been putting it off for three weeks.”

“That definitely changes things. Are you coming in? I need to... check if I have everything. “I’m really sorry, but you actually called just a moment ago and I didn’t manage to…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you waved a hand reassuringly. “I should’ve reached out earlier and not bothered you at this hour. But since you’re inviting me, I’m coming in. I’ve never been to your place before.”

“You’re not bothering me at all,” he assured you as you both walked further into the apartment. The lighting was dim, creating a cozy and relaxed atmosphere.

You stopped in the living room when a familiar sound reached your ears—a melody you knew all too well. Without a second thought, you followed it to its source.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you huffed in surprise, coming to a halt in front of the glowing TV screen, its bright light cutting through the dim surroundings.

“What?” Spencer finally noticed you had wandered off and joined you a minute later. “Oh, sorry. I was watching it earlier and forgot to turn it off…”

“No!” You stopped him before he could reach for the remote. “Don’t you dare. History’s Mysteries is my favorite show.”

Spencer looked at you as though he expected you to burst into laughter any second and admit you were joking. But no, you genuinely, wholeheartedly loved that program. Especially the episodes about extraterrestrial life—deep down, you’d always been a bit of a nerd.

You crossed your arms over your chest, pretending to be annoyed.

“What?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow. “You think just because I’m hot, I can’t have any intellectual interests?”

He widened his eyes, shaking his head.

"Don't put those words in my mouth. I’d never say—or even think—something like that."

"That I’m hot?"

"No! What? I mean… I wouldn’t assume you couldn’t have intellectual interests just because you’re…"

"Hot," you finished for him, letting out a laugh. "Relax, Reid, I’m just messing with you. By the way, you have a really nice apartment. Honestly, I kind of expected, I don’t know, a lab or something."

"Well, so far, you’ve only seen the living room," he replied.

"And I'd love to see the rest of it," you announced, rocking slightly on your heels. "But I haven't seen this episode yet, and I'm very curious about what it's about."

You noticed him hesitate, clearly unsure how to respond.

"Unless, of course, you don’t want me to stay. Maybe you're expecting someone. A girl or a guy?"

"No, no, I’m not expecting anyone," he replied quickly, swallowing nervously. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—barely noticeable, but it was there. "You’re absolutely not bothering me. Actually, it’ll be... it’ll be nice to have you stay. But, um... the documents. I should—I'll go get those ready for you. Would you like something to drink?"

"...Four bodies were retrieved from a hole in the ice of a completely frozen lake. All the victims were young girls, aged thirteen to nineteen and each of them was involved in prostitution."

You were brought back to reality by JJ's words. You felt someone's gaze on you, surprisingly not from the direction you had expected. It was Gideon, and you were sure he had noticed the strange tension between you and Spencer. That was likely the reason behind his scrutiny. You had always thought he was a solid guy, but at times, he scared you. He looked at people as if he could see their original sin, not just theirs, but also that of five generations back in their family.

You shuddered, but for another reason. The subject... frozen lake, bodies pulled out... even though so many years had passed, and you could barely remember the event, the chill still crept down your spine, and your heart raced like you were running away.

"Wait a minute," Derek said, furrowing his brow thoughtfully. "How thick could the ice be on that lake?"

"Given the current almost extreme temperatures, probably around 50 inches. That's thick enough for even cars to move safely on it," Reid explained without hesitation.

You sighed, trying to hide a fleeting smile. You just... sounded like a fetishist, but you couldn't deny that it was a little exciting when he did that. He delivered long, flawless explanations, all while looking genuinely fascinated by the topic. It didn't matter what you were talking about.

Elle raised an eyebrow. You decided to ignore her.

“Doesn’t it make you wonder how he managed to cut a hole in the lake, in such thick ice, without anyone noticing?” Morgan continued.

“Actually, he didn’t have to do it personally,” Reid replied again. He took off his glasses and thoughtfully turned them in his hands. “Under different weather conditions, we might consider that, but these were most likely holes made for other purposes. Fishing, mostly, but also to test if the ice can support vehicles, for example. The unsub could have simply shown up, discarded the body, and that’s it.”

You all started the discussion on the topic without your input. You should have stayed focused, but you couldn't help but keep glancing back at his long fingers, holding the glasses...his touch so delicate and skilled…

The door opened once again, just like every Sunday, when the two of you caught up on the weekly episode of the show. After you stayed over at his place once to watch it together, it simply became a tradition. An unspoken one.

With each meeting, you talked less and less about work. It was still kept in a purely friendly atmosphere—otherwise, you wouldn't have shown up. You weren't looking for a committed relationship, but lately, the usual physicality wasn't enough, and you needed a new conversation partner on a deeper level. The range of your topics was vast, from casual chatter to deep analyses of the content you watched (you could talk for hours about conspiracy theories), or serious yet comforting conversations about life and the world.

"Where's my pillow?" you asked, pointing to the spot on the left side of the couch where you always sat.

"I spilled coffee on it, by accident. It's in the laundry. Sorry."

"Did you really just apologize for taking your pillow from your own apartment?"

"Sorry, It’s just my thing”

You both burst out laughing, sitting side by side on the couch.

"I miss something to rest my head on," you complained after just a minute. "I’ve got neck pain from sleeping on the jet."

"So, you should definitely sleep on a flat surface," he teased. "See, I took the pillow out of concern for you."

"Ladies and gentlemen, Spencer Reid before you. The man who will always find a scientific reason to make your life harder. Maybe I should just sleep on a bed of nails instead of a mattress, huh?"

“I just suggested a slightly flatter surface! Where did the nails come from?”

“That’s the same to me. I need softness.”

Spencer shook his head.

“I can bring you a pillow from my bedroom.”

“The episode is starting.”

“I’ll be back in a second…”

“Oh, and then you’ll complain you can’t talk about the plot because you missed the first minute, and so much probably happened,” you stopped him from getting up, grabbing his wrist. “Sit. I’ll survive the neck pain. Or… or I’ll just lie down here.”

Saying this, you simply rested your head on his lap, settling comfortably on your side.

“What did the autopsy reveal?” Elle asked. “Did the victims die from drowning, or were their bodies just dumped in the water with a different cause of death?”

You should have focused on the case at hand, but you couldn’t shake the discomfort this topic caused you. No wonder your thoughts kept straying to more pleasant places as you tried to distance yourself from it. Still, you read through the case files, knowing you had to stay focused to solve this. Lives depended on it.

“They were all alive when they were thrown into the water,” JJ said with tightly pressed lips. “And each of them suffered a heavy blow to the head.”

“That’s how he abducts them,” Derek summarized. “Knocks them unconscious with a strong hit. Maybe he pretends to be a client, and once they leave with him, he strikes.”

“The question is, why specifically the lake’s ice hole?” you mused, tapping your nails on the table in an anxious gesture. “Is it purely practical? Did he think it was the easiest place to dispose of the bodies?”

You couldn’t take your eyes off the photos of the drowning victims—it felt like self-inflicted torture. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Reid staring at you differently than before. Once, you’d told him a story about something that happened to you as a child, more like a casual anecdote than a heartfelt confession. Even so, you thought you saw some worry etched on his face.

For the first time since he walked through the door, you met his eyes directly, responding to his desperate attempts to catch your gaze. Surprised that you finally looked at him, he froze, his slightly parted lips emitting a short sound as if he wanted to say something but forgot what it was at the last second.

"No... I don't think so," he finally said, drawing out the syllables absentmindedly. The slight furrow in his brow suggested he was deep in thought. "Bathing in water symbolizes cleansing from sin in many religions, both physically and spiritually. For example, in Christianity, baptism washes away original sin. Prostitutes are often the targets of serial killers who believe they’re purging society in some way. Since we’ve ruled out a sexual motive, maybe this is where we should focus our attention."

"That’s a good lead," Hotch agreed, as the rest of the team considered the analysis in silence. "In that case, we’re likely dealing with a religious fanatic. Such perpetrators often believe they’re acting in the name of God or some higher good. Worse still, they see their actions as morally justified, which means they feel no remorse."

"And that, in turn, means they won’t stop killing until they’re caught," Gideon concluded.

"Then there will soon be another victim. We need to move now," your boss decided, quickly straightening his papers against the table before tucking them into his briefcase. "See you on the jet in fifteen minutes."

Throughout the meeting, you'd laid out the victims' photos in front of you, studying them closely. Preoccupied with gathering them up, you could hear everyone heading toward the door, convinced you'd been left alone in the room.

But when you looked up, you found yourself face-to-face with none other than Reid. Your breath hitched for a moment. You knew this confrontation was inevitable, but you'd worked so hard to push the thought of it away…

"Hey," he greeted with a small smile on his lips. He seemed almost excited about the conversation. "I just wanted…to ask how you're doing."

You shrugged, forcing indifference.

"Fine, I guess."

You finished sliding the photos back into the case file, closed it, and pressed it to your chest.

"We should get going. Hotch gave us fifteen minutes, but the sooner we leave, the better..."

"You don't even want to talk to me?" he asked unexpectedly, shaking his head slightly in genuine disbelief. He swallowed hard and added, "About last night?"

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment. You hated this—hated it with every fiber of your being. That awful moment when you had to tell someone you'd spent the night with that it didn’t mean anything to you, that you didn’t want to keep seeing them, let alone get involved. And it was so much worse this time. This wasn’t some random guy. This was Spencer—your friend, someone you genuinely cared about, whose friendship you couldn’t afford to lose, especially since you worked together.

Your body was conditioned to run, to escape. Waking up in someone else’s bed always signaled an immediate sprint to the finish line. But this time, it felt like you’d tripped over an untied shoelace barely a meter in.

"There’s nothing to talk about," you replied. The strange tension of being in the same room with him again, just the two of you in this small space—so much like last night—settled over you. "Actually, wait. There is. I think I left my phone at your place, though it might’ve fallen somewhere in the car. Could you look for it when we get back?"

He didn’t respond. You weren’t sure why, but you kept your gaze fixed anywhere but on him—his shirt, the space behind him, anything to avoid his eyes. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you should look directly at him, let your words carry the weight they were supposed to.

Spencer suddenly let out a short, sharp laugh, filled with shock and maybe even… sarcasm?

"Did it really mean so little to you that you can't even look at me?"

You gave in and lifted your gaze. His head tilted slightly to the side, his brow furrowed. He looked somehow hurt even though hurt seemed too strong a word.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean how you disappeared this morning. I thought maybe you were in a rush or didn’t want to wake me, but when I got there, you barely even looked at me. Sorry—actually, you looked at me only once”

"What did you expect, that I’d throw myself at you and kiss you?"

"No, I expected that we’d talk about it like normal people."

"But there’s nothing to talk about. It happened, and that’s it. I don’t see any reason we should have to debate about it..."

Spencer wasn’t angry, like others might have been. He was simply stunned.

"I don’t understand this," he finally confessed, adjusting his glasses on his nose. It was as if they suddenly became a bother, so he adjusted them again, then, after a moment of hesitation, took them off. "Do you regret what happened?"

“No,” you answered quickly, it was the first honest thought that came to your mind. You pinched the bridge of your nose, unable to find the right words. “Well… I don’t regret it in the way you might think. It’s just… I’m not sure what you expect from me now. We spent one night together, it was amazing, but I don’t have anything more to offer you.”

“I don’t want you to offer me anything,” he said, irritation beginning to creep into his voice, though it didn’t seem to be directed at you. “The only thing I want is… to understand where we stand now. Look, we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, I thought you liked me…”

“Because I do like you,” you interrupted him mid-sentence. "Let me be honest with you, Reid. I don’t do relationships. And just so you know, I don’t usually sleep with my friends either, but it happened, and I can’t undo it, nor would I want to. Because I enjoyed it, I like you, and I have a great time when I’m with you. And up until now, I’ve really enjoyed how things have been between us. I don’t want anything to change."

You summed up what had been weighing on your heart, hoping with all sincerity that he’d understand. Spencer leaned his hands on the back of an empty chair, turning his body slightly toward you.

"So," he said, letting out something between a chuckle and a pained sigh. "Maybe you shouldn’t have gone to bed with me."

"Listen, sex doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a physical act, it doesn’t affect our friendship in any way."

"Do you really believe that?"

“Yes, I do,” you insisted stubbornly, refusing to let yourself even blink. Spencer turned his face toward you, looking for signs of a lie or uncertainty in your expression.

He wouldn’t have been able to find any, even if he tried with all his might. Because you were a brilliant actress. And it wasn’t that you hid your feelings so well. It was more that everything about you was so contradictory that it created a whole range of possible interpretations. And Spencer, with his deeply rooted need to hurt himself and test his own worth, chose to settle on the one that would guarantee him that.

“Well, good for you,” he finally replied, before leaving the room completely, not even turning back over his shoulder.

For a moment, you stood in silence, unable to identify what you were actually feeling. In truth, your earlier words had been honest. You cared about your friendship, the connection, the conversations, and the time spent together. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny that he simply attracted you. Just yesterday, you had convinced yourself it was probably just curiosity. Sometimes people wonder what it would be like to try something with a friend, they do it, and then all those similar thoughts fade away.

But was it the same for you two?

Your head and shoulders had been resting on his lap for a while, your cheek comfortably pressed against his thigh, and the glow of the TV occasionally lit up your focused face when something brighter appeared on the screen.

Spender seemed tense about the position for just a minute, then, for the next five, he was simply surprised. Although you focused your attention on the program, you could feel his gaze falling on your figure from time to time, stopping on it for a moment. After ten minutes, you were both lying comfortably, with mutual ease, and after an unknown amount of time, one of his hands was resting on your side.

Every now and then, you spoke to each other, exchanging short, often sarcastic comments about the episode. During one of these interactions, something caught your attention.

"Where are your glasses?" you asked. You turned onto your back, resting the back of your head on his lap instead of your temple and cheek.

You could look up at him from that amusing, lower perspective, from which everyone looks particularly unflattering. You smiled at his expression when he tilted his head to look at you.

"Oh, I have them here," he replied, lifting the glasses he must have set on the couch.

"But why aren’t you wearing them?" You could swear that when you started watching, they were on his nose. You had noticed because you really liked how he looked in them.

He shrugged.

"You’re straining your eyes. Put them on," you asked.

Spencer moved his hand as if he wanted to reach for them, but at the last moment, he hesitated.

"I... I don’t exactly like how I look in them," he finally confessed.

After those words, you stared at the ceiling for a moment, then pushed yourself up on your elbow, almost aggressively. His eyebrows shot up at that.

"You must be joking."

"What?"

"I said, you must be joking. You look great in them. They really suit you," you assured him, sitting up. "You know, when I was a teenager, I always wanted to wear glasses. I even envied the girls with poor eyesight."

"You know, I’m fully aware you’re saying this just to get me to wear them?"

"True, you got me. Did it work?"

"Not really."

You bit your lower lip, thoughtfully considering a certain idea.

"Okay, give them to me for a moment," you asked, extending your hand. "I’ll tell you something that will convince you to wear them. From now on, you’ll even sleep in them. Well, maybe especially sleep in them."

He tilted his head, trying for a moment to read your intentions from your face, but he couldn’t. He sighed and handed you the glasses.

"Don’t..."

"Don’t grab them by the lenses, I know that," you finished, rolling your eyes. "I’m not some animal."

With his glasses in hand, you changed your position on the couch, kneeling so that you were more or less facing each other.

"I’m waiting for your arguments," he said, his voice sly, to which you raised an eyebrow.

"Well, this will be an argument combined with a little presentation," you clarified. "Have you ever heard of the glasses theory?"

"Is that an actual concept in human psychology, or something you just made up? If it’s the latter, I’m afraid I haven’t”

Listen, it’s very simple, but you’d better focus on me," you demanded, ignoring his previous remark.

"I’m focused."

Indeed, he was. His gaze was fixed on you with such intensity and engagement, as if you were about to deliver a speech that could change the fate of the universe. Or maybe it just seemed that way because you were so close to each other.

"Forgive me for the unacademic language, Doctor, but I don’t like to complicate things too much. This theory says that with glasses, you can only look one of two ways: smart or hot."

Spencer had already chuckled, ready to jump in with a sarcastic comment, but you pressed your finger to his lips, moving even closer.

"Don’t interrupt me for now, I’m not done yet. This theory also says that your look in glasses will always be the opposite of your usual, everyday look. So, if without them you look like the typical intellectual who knows the meaning of every word in the dictionary, then in them…" You paused, tilting your head to the side. Up until now, your finger had been resting on his lips, which it had landed on by chance, but you couldn’t stop yourself from trailing it along his chin and jawline. He didn’t take his eyes off you, which only made it harder to stop. "In them, you look really, really attractive. Like, you know, sexually attractive”

You felt his chest rise. You felt it because one of your hands was resting on it as you sat on his lap, though you had no idea how you had ended up there. Spencer had been entirely focused on your face until now-on your speaking lips, not on how your bodies were positioned in relation to each other. He exhaled, loudly, far too loudly for comfort, the breath he'd been holding in. The sound escaped as you settled your full weight on his lap instead of just hovering above it.

“Do you really mean that?”

Yes, you wanted to respond briefly, right into his ear.

“That’s the theory. And I… I agree with it. I even have another example. You won’t deny that I’m hot, right? It’s just something people think when they see me. A statement of fact. So… when I put on glasses…” Saying this, you slid his glasses onto your own nose. Your entire field of vision blurred slightly, making it hard to see his reaction. You could only feel how his body responded..“Well? How do I look?”

He didn’t answer. His breathing grew deeper, his pulse quicker. You knew this because your hand, which had been exploring every corner of his face, had already made its way to his neck and decided to stay there for a while.

“Spencer,” you prompted, “I asked how I look.”

He lowered his head, the top of it brushing against your sternum, lingering there for a moment. When he straightened again, his eyes were in constant flux, like those of someone torn by too many desires at once.

“Smart,” he replied, his voice barely audible, the word catching in his throat. “Now you look really smart.”

You shifted higher on his lap, drawn to him by the pull of his voice.

“Smart,” you repeated with a laugh, your tone edging toward a whisper, slipping between the two of you and filling the small space like liquid poured into a vessel. “That confirms the theo—…”

You broke off when his lips finally surged toward yours, impatient and pushed to the very edge of restraint. His jaw pressed against yours, forcing your entire body to tilt back. You swayed on his lap, both of his hands falling tou your hips, his fingertips pressing firlmy into your skin to hold your body at the same place, right next to him, close, closer.

The kiss, born of desperation, quickly transformed into the release of a long-hidden hunger shared by you both. It was equal on every level, matched in intensity and force.

In the midst of it all, you lost your breath, repeatedly pulling your lips away from his to gasp for air, only to reconnect moments later. One of those brief pauses drew a wretched, urging whimper from him.

It was around then that you felt the pressure, growing stronger against your core.

An involuntary smile spread across your lips, breaking the kiss, during which you briefly took control, tilting his neck back for better access. Pulling away by barely an inch, you managed to notice that his barely open eyelids were still fixed on your lips, glistening with saliva and flushed with desire.

“Spencer? What is it? “

After asking that question you pressed yourself to his hips, pointing to the obvious hardness. His eyes widened, as if all the previous actions had taken place far beyond his body, to which he had only just returned. He inhaled sharply, his fingers gripping your body firmly and decisively as if trying to slide you off his lap. Something in the intensity of his touch and his attempt to take control only made you cling to him more.

“Didn’t expect you to be that hard after a kiss, but maybe it’s my fault” You muttered a joke under your breath, your lips briefly marking the space along his jawline, chin, and finally his lips. In the meantime, while one of your hands remained firmly on his neck, the other decisively reached its target. Then, griped it through the fabric of his pants. His lips parted, b loout no sound came out; it seemed to have been swallowed by his surprise. “Do you want me to take care of it?”

Your hand remained still, waiting for an answer. At first, he was silent, focused on his own breathing, not looking at your face, which you found quite unsettling.

"Spencer, I want you to answer me."

When he hesitated again, you gently brushed your lips against the lobe of his ear. But before you could repeat your request, he unexpectedly pulled both of you to the side, positioning you beneath him.

You gasped, surprised by the shift in dynamics.

“I want this” he whimpered into your ear, covering it with his mouth along with the space around it. “I really, really want this, please…”

But was it the same for you two?

You repeated the question in your mind and recalled how, arched like a bow, you placed the glasses on his face, wanting to see him wear them as he made you come.

You stood there in the empty room, replaying that moment in your head, well aware that you should join the rest of the team, but not so sure about the answer

"Please don’t tell me that those fifteen minutes when you were alone..."

"Disgusting, Elle, you’re just disgusting."

Your friend, sitting across from you on the jet, smiled as if you’d just given her a compliment. The rest of the team either engaged in conversation with each other or reviewed the case files once more, looking for new clues. Reid belonged to the latter group, though his absent expression didn’t suggest he was deep in thought about the case. But you made an effort not to look at him, feeling a bit guilty for how things had unfolded.

"What exactly did you tell him?"

"That I don’t date and I’m not looking for anything serious."

"You just told him that?"

"What was I supposed to do, draw him a picture?"

"It’s not about that, it’s just..." Elle hesitated, unsure of what she wanted to say. She didn’t seem as cheerful as before. "I guess you didn’t say it that directly, right? Don’t get me wrong, but it’s kind of... cruel."

Her gaze briefly shifted toward the subject of your conversation, looking concerned.

"Would you have come to that conclusion if it were any other guy you didn’t know?"

She sighed.

"Probably not, and that’s why I think I’m having some sort of moral crisis."

You fell into a bit of an unpleasant mood for the rest of the flight. Unsure of what else to do, you decided to think a bit about the case and the murders. You even came to a conclusion and were about to stand up to discuss it when it hit you that you wanted your conversation partner to be...Reid. You sighed and stopped halfway, not knowing if he was ready to talk to you again.

Soon enough, you arrived in the small town where the murders had taken place. Naturally, you headed straight to the site where the bodies were discovered. Bundled up in thick down jackets, the crunch of deep snow underfoot accompanied your every step. You busied yourself talking to the local police, deliberately keeping your distance from the lake. The vast expanse of frozen water seemed to glare at you, challenging and mocking, as though daring you to come and play. Every glance at the ice awakened an inexplicable urge to sprint to its center, to feel the chills coursing through your body and surrender to a reckless exhilaration.

Rain drummed against the bridge like a barrage of tiny bullets, sharp and unrelenting, as if determined to pierce straight through you. You stood huddled beneath an umbrella with Reid, but both of you were already soaked to the bone, shivering from the relentless cold.

“Where the hell are they?” you asked through chattering teeth.

As part of your investigation, you and Reid had been sent to a nearby high school to interview the teachers of a missing teenager. The rest of the team had been assigned different tasks, and someone was supposed to pick you up at the agreed-upon spot and time so you could regroup and share your findings. But the wait was dragging on far longer than expected.

“I’d just like to remind you that you laughed at me when I took this umbrella, saying there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky and it definitely wouldn’t rain,” Spencer remarked, switching the umbrella from his red, cold hand to the other one he had been keeping warm in his coat pocket.

You looked at him with envy. Your jacket didn’t even have pockets, and you started wondering why you’d even bought it in the first place.

“This is not the time to point fingers at me,” you retorted. “This is the time to make sure I don’t die of hypothermia. Come closer. And don’t stand so close to the railing.”

“We’re nearly two meters away from it,” he pointed out, but still followed your request and stepped forward. You took the opportunity to shove your hands into his coat pockets for even a momentary bit of warmth. His coat smelled like rain, and your nose accidentally brushed against it. Your hands touched his in one of the pockets.

“Jesus, it’s like touching an ice cube,” he muttered.

“You still have feeling in your hands?”

“Still do, but I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time,” he replied.

“They’ll freeze and have to be amputated. We’ll be the only two handless FBI agents. Hotch will never send us on an assignment together again,” you joked.

He chuckled softly and shifted the umbrella to his other hand once again. For a moment, you both stood in silence—him staring at the river flowing beneath the bridge, and you gazing toward the direction where you hoped your rescue would arrive.

“Can I ask you a question?” he broke the silence, looking down at you.

You were standing so close, your hands buried in his coat pockets, that you had to tilt your head back significantly to meet his gaze.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Are you afraid of water?”

You stared at his face, taken aback by the question. His wet hair was plastered to his forehead, and for some inexplicable reason, you felt a sudden urge to push it back.

“Why do you ask?”

He shrugged.

“It’s just something I noticed today—though, of course, there’s a possibility I’m wrong. But we’ve been standing on this bridge for twenty minutes, and you haven’t looked down once. And you keep telling me to step away from the railing.”

“I’m just looking out for your safety, klutz,” you teased, lowering your gaze. He wasn’t wrong about the water, and it surprised you that he had even picked up on it.

“When I was six, I almost drowned in frigid water,” you admitted, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

Spencer’s brows furrowed with concern.

“At least, that’s what I’ve been told,” you added before he could say anything. “Apparently, my dad took me and my sisters to a lake to go ice skating. He used to go there as a kid with his siblings, and the ice was always thick enough that no one even considered it might break. But that was twenty years earlier. He didn’t account for climate change. The ice cracked right beneath me.”

“God,” he sighed. “You know… maybe it’s for the better that you don’t remember it. At least not exactly.”

“Maybe. Apparently, I spent the next two weeks in the hospital with pneumonia, but I don’t have a single memory of that. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that I shudder at the mere sound of water.”

“Your body must remember what your mind suppressed. But wait, didn’t you have to pass a swimming test to get into the FBI?”

“I did. But it was in a pool, where the water was calm and not trying to kill me. Hey, do you see that car? Isn’t that for us?”

After a few hours, you began to appreciate living in a state where winters were mild. Your hands were even colder than they had been that time on the bridge, despite wearing leather gloves. The hood over your head muffled the sounds around you so much that the first time Hotch called your name, you didn’t even hear him. You only approached him when you noticed him waving in your direction.

Something in his expression made you quicken your pace.

“We have the unsub’s identity,” he said before you could open your mouth to ask what had happened.

The rest of the team had already gathered. Reid’s cheeks were red from the cold, and he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He wasn’t looking at you, so you avoided looking at him.

“What?” you blurted, surprised. “How?”

“He abducted another victim, but this time he wasn’t as careful, and one of the cameras caught him. Using the footage, Penelope tracked down his information. She also found out that he came from a very poor family, and his sister turned to prostitution at the age of fourteen to support both of them.”

“I don’t understand. Then why does he kill young girls, just like his sister, who sacrificed herself for their survival?” Elle asked, suddenly appearing behind you.

Her question echoed in your mind.

“He thinks that by drowning them in freezing water, he cleanses them of the sin of prostitution—a sin he believes was unjustly forced upon them because of poverty,” you said suddenly, the chill biting into your body far more sharply than before.

“The unsub might even think he’s doing them a favor,” Reid added, animated, picking up your line of thought. “That he’s their savior, granting them a departure free of that sin.”

His eyes met yours, a flicker of admiration glinting in them. But then, as if reminded of everything, he quickly looked away. You felt like sighing. So this is how every single one of your interactions was going to look from now on?

“We need to catch him before he drowns another victim. We don’t have much time; it’s getting dark,” Hotch issued commands quickly. “Gideon, me, JJ, and Elle will head to one lake, Morgan, Y/N, and…”

“I should go with you,” Reid interrupted. “Elle can go with Morgan, and…”

“This is not up for discussion,” Hotch replied in a firm tone, a flicker of surprise crossing not just his face but everyone’s. When it came to time, his decisions were final. You all knew that. "Go," He commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Before you knew it, you were in the speeding car. The tension and sense of mission always left you silent, focused, and most of all, determined.

“He’s here. Do you see him? He’s dragging her toward the hole in the ice!”

Throughout all of it, not once did it cross your mind—the obvious fact that you’d have to set foot on the frozen lake. Before you even had a chance to react or fully realize it, Reid unexpectedly grabbed your sleeve, pulling you toward him. He seemed surprised by his own action, his eyes darting with adrenaline across your face.

“The ice won’t break, do you understand?” he said, not letting go of your arm. “It’s thick enough that cars can drive on it. “It’s safe, trust me. And if you feel like you can’t do it, just stay behind,”

His voice was surprisingly steady, offering a sense of comfort that you hadn’t expected. You listened, almost stunned, not just by the care in his advice, but also by the fact that he was even speaking to you at all.

You didn’t have time to respond or even nod; the car came to a stop, and every second counted. Somewhere deep inside, though, you felt a surge of gratitude for his gesture and words. Because as soon as you set foot on the ice, it was as though your senses vanished. All that mattered was the water—cold, sinister, and waiting for you deep beneath the blue surface.

Morgan and Reid moved ahead of you, with the latter turning his head over his shoulder. You saw it, even as the darkness quickly closed in around you.

“If you feel like you can’t do it, just stay behind,” echoed in your mind.

But you couldn’t just stand there and watch while the victim’s life was hanging by a thread. Focusing entirely on his words and voice, you moved forward, gripping your weapon tightly, yet with a steady hand.

And it was your shot, fired in a moment of desperate resolve, that brought the unsub down, giving Morgan the chance to catch the unconscious victim in his arms and rush her to the shore as quickly as possible.

You stood there, breathless, still holding the gun high, completely unaware of it until someone gently touched your hands, guiding them downward.

“It’s me,” Reid said quietly as you flinched. Only then did it start to sink in that you were standing on the ice. Your imagination began to feed you the feeling of the bone-chilling cold, the water pressing against your body with all its might. After all these years, still so vivid. You grabbed onto his arms tightly, your legs suddenly slipping beneath you. Why hadn’t they slipped before?

“Hey, careful. The ice is thick, remember? It won’t break,” he reassured you.

He held you tightly, offering you support as you both made your way to the shore, taking small, uncertain steps. You could barely breathe, let alone speak. Yet, a question loomed in your mind, one you were desperate to ask: why was he even still with you? Why hadn’t he just left you there, maybe for some internal satisfaction?

Finally, you were on solid ground, no longer gripped by panic. Still, your breath was rapid, every cell in your body shaking in spasms, but not in that teasing, playful way it had when you played the role of the bolter.

“Why did you do it?” you asked, still holding onto him like a lifeline. “I thought you were mad at me.”

Before answering, Reid studied you in silence for a moment.

“I could be furious with you, but I wouldn’t leave you there, alone and scared,” he said.

You opened your mouth, a warmth spreading across your chest, something that felt almost like a comforting embrace. But before you could say anything, the rest of the team reached you, with Elle hanging onto your shoulder, her voice full of concern as she asked how you were feeling.

In the darkness and the flood of emotions, his face blurred, along with the faces of the others. You closed your eyes for a moment, surrendering completely.

It was only then that you began to calm down, though it would take many hours before your hands stopped shaking.

You nervously paced around the office, two pairs of eyes watching you with clear amusement.

"Do you think he called me in because of that whole tie incident?" you asked, nervously biting one of your nails. "Shit, it’s definitely about that. It was so inappropriate, he’s probably going to fire me."

"Calm down," Derek said to you, the corner of his mouth constantly rising and falling. "First of all, if Hotch were going to fire you for every dumb thing that comes out of your mouth, you'd be gone after a week. Second of all, it probably has nothing to do with that. Knowing you, it’s probably some overdue paperwork..."

"You’re not helping," you said, raising a warning finger.

Elle’s laugh mixed with her yawn.

"God, I’m exhausted from this day. I’m out of here. Call me later and let me know what this was all about," she kissed your cheek as a farewell.

You briefly hugged her with one arm.

"Keep your fingers crossed," you asked them as they walked away.

Both of them raised their hands, making the gesture.

It was evening, and you had just returned to the office after closing the case. You had hoped to head home and sleep off all the emotions from the day, but then you found out that Hotch had called for you. And you had no idea why.

Before opening the door with his name on it, you crossed yourself in your mind.

"Listen, Hotch, about that tie, it was really just some messing around," you blurted out, before even fully stepping inside.

The man sitting at his desk raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t alone—across from him, in a chair, looking like a student called to the principal’s office for punishment, sat Spencer, looking just as confused as you felt.

"Did you want to see me now? Or did I mix up the time or the days...?"

"I wanted to see both of you," he replied, pointing to one of the two chairs next to Reid.

You exchanged a brief glance with your colleague. Since your last interaction on the frozen lake, neither of you had spoken a word, but the atmosphere wasn’t as tense as before. That didn’t, of course, mean that everything between you was back to normal.

"Listen, I’m just as exhausted as you, but I need to have this conversation with you now so we can resolve it as quickly as possible."

You shook your head in confusion.

"Resolve what?" Reid asked.

"Whatever happened between you two," Hotch started seriously, his gaze moving between your faces. "Any argument, I don’t care what it was about or how serious it is, it cannot affect your work or professional relationship in any way."

You couldn’t help it and let out a laugh. You imagined Elle’s expression on the other end of the phone when you’d tell her the real reason behind this summons…

"Hotch, there was no argument," you assured him, maybe not entirely honestly, but in an attempt to wrap up this somewhat, let's be honest, embarrassing conversation as quickly as possible.

Spencer nodded enthusiastically.

"Absolutely none. Never."

"I'm not blind or, as you’re both well aware, stupid," Hotch continued, his gaze shifting between you both. "I can see what's going on, and I’m telling you now—I don’t want any conflict in my team."

You let out a snort.

"So what are you going to do?" you asked challengingly. "Force us to shake hands and make up? If we do that now, can we finally go home?"

He met your gaze, his expression as stoic as ever, but you were certain—absolutely certain—that deep down, he was amused by it all. To your surprise, he suddenly stood up from his desk.

"No, I'm going to do something more effective," he declared. "I'm leaving you two alone for ten minutes. No one leaves this office. When I come back, everything needs to be settled. Understood?"

"Isn’t this some sort of elementary school method of discipline?" Spencer asked, raising his eyebrows, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw that beneath his amused expression, there was also a hint of concern.

"Exactly how it sounds," you agreed, briefly meeting his gaze before shifting it to your boss with a pleading look. "You're not our father, Hotch. We're adults, stop treating us like children..."

His hand landed on the doorknob without a moment’s hesitation.

"Then stop acting like children and talk to each other," he said, glancing at his watch. "I’ll be back in ten minutes."

You could’ve sworn there was a subtle smile playing on his face as he left.

You watched his figure disappear in disbelief.

And then, you turned to Spencer, who was already staring at you.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds smut #spencer reid criminal minds #bau team #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal mind #dr reid #spencer reid smut #aaron hotchner #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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peachysunrize · 13 hours ago

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Hide & Seek ⥃ Vampire!Aemond Targaryen

Summary: the nightly mysterious deaths make you wonder, but your grandma’s disappearance pulls the last straw. You go to see it for yourself if the myth about the creature of the dark is true and find your granny to take her home.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Dark content!! Manipulation!! Vampire!Aemond, smut, chasing & haunting, death, gore, Beauty & The Beast inspired! MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, predator & prey, p in v, breeding, biting, blood & blood licking, stabbing, punching, English is not my first language<3

Word count: 4.6k+

A/n: soooo I talked to a @anjelicawrites about this idea and decided to write it so thank you for tolerating me and helping me with this idea!! also a very special thank you to @sylasthegrim for beta reading this piece for me<33 It’s inspired by Ewan’s outfit and I CANT WAIT TO KNOW YOUR OPINION ON THIS!! Comments & reblogs are so appreciated!

I don’t have a taglist for my one shots so please follow and turn on the notifications of @peachysunrizefics !

It is past midnight when you are woken up by the loud bangs on the door, yelling and pounding on the wood as someone calls your name. It is strange, no one comes to your house at such an ungodly hour, especially if they know your grandmother has trouble sleeping.

You gather your nightgown in your fist before you step down from your bed, reaching for a woolen jacket to put on before you go and answer the door.

“Coming, coming,” you yell back, and as soon as the sleep is gone from your eyes, you take in your surroundings; nothing is in its place. The house is a mess with chairs broken in half, cushions torn apart, and window shards broken into a million pieces.

“What’s happened here?” you ask yourself as you walk cautiously towards the door, staying quiet as you fiddle with the locks, thinking your grandmother is sound asleep.

You find the baker's son on your door, frantic and panting. He looks at you with wide eyes, his hands trembling, and he tries to stutter the words out.

“Y-you—“

“What’s going on? Has something happened?” you ask, wrapping the jacket around yourself tighter. You look at the poor shaking boy before you notice footprints on the snow from your house to the town. “Talk, boy.”

“Granny…” he says with fear, teeth clacking as he talks, “S-she was seen walking towards the woods with someone—“

“Are you out of your mind?” you ask in disbelief, scoffing when the boy shakes his head. “Granny is asleep inside. She sleepwalks, true, but she knows how dangerous nighttime is.”

“We thought she was on a walk with you!” He tries again, sounding desperate, “When we didn’t see her coming back we came to you! Everyone knows the myths about this town and nightly disappearances. We… we fear that your grandmother is…the newest victim.”

You laugh loudly, holding your belly as shocked laughs escape your mouth. Even the idea of your granny taking a walk is hilarious but to think of her getting kidnapped by the stranger of the night seems… unrealistic.

“I shall wake her up now,” you whisper, running back inside, jumping over the ruined furniture, and as you take in the messy room; the damage is far too severe for it to be merely sleepwalking gone wrong.

“Granny?” you say in a low tone, deep down hoping she is asleep under her flower-embroidered blanket. But when you open the door, the gasp you let out is heard from the other side of the house, “No, no, no…”

“Miss—“

“Where are you, Granny?” you scream and try to make sense of the things happening around you. Your grandmother is not in her bed, her room is a mess, in fact, your entire house is. You wrap the jacket around yourself tighter, wiping your tears as you walk back to the front door to talk to the boy.

“Describe the person you saw,” you demand, your nails digging into the palm of your hands, waiting for the boy to talk, “Was it… was it as the tales say? Tall and pale, one eye carved out and teeth soaked in blood?”

“W-we could not see very clearly,” he stutters, rubbing his sweaty hand against his ripped pants, shivering under the cold wind and your much colder and teary gaze, “B-but he was tall! He… he had a long coat too and long hair as well! I did not see his face but-but I am sure his hair was as white as snow!”

“Go find a scythe in the basement and bring it to me,” you glare at the young boy when he looks back at you with wide eyes and parted lips like a fish, “Go, now. I’ll fetch the horse.”

“Where are you going?” He asks, voice shaking and hesitating, “Please, Miss, at least tell me so I can help you!”

“Enough is enough,” you wipe the tears that keep falling from your eyes, walking away from the boy to go to your room and grab a thick cloak, “I can not stand and see how people act oblivious about all the disappearances! My Granny… my sweet Granny was taken away by a man! There is no evil creature in the woods, just a man with a hunger for blood. That human is sick in the head, and should be struck down!”

“You shouldn’t go to search for Granny! People have died on that route, they have been taken to God knows where. We do not need you to go missing as well!”

“I will not,” you wrap the cloak around you tighter before you march outside, the poor boy following you with a hammer in hand he grabbed from behind a couch.

“Then let us accompany you—“

“No,” you reply, panting as you move through the snow towards your stable, petting your horse before you bring it out, grabbing a saddle, and fastening it around the horse’s body, “I will do it on my own, we have enough losses already. I will find Granny and others, trust me.”

“Please, it’s too reckless to go into the woods at such an ungodly hour! Especially now that we know that creature has Granny! Miss, let me go and tell my father about this—“

“Don’t say a word to anyone, do you hear me?” you grab the boy by his collar, pulling him closer so you can whisper harshly in his ear, “He might have ears everywhere. Tell your father about this if I do not come home in a day.”

“This is absurd! You are putting yourself in grave danger—“

“Nothing will happen to me,” you kiss his forehead before grabbing the horse’s reins and jumping over the saddle, “I will find everyone and come back, and if I am lucky enough, I will kill that man.”

“Go in grace, Miss!” he yells and hands you the hammer, petting the horse and making sure your saddle is tight and ready for a run toward the woods, “Save us from the creatures of the dark!”

“I will!” you bolt through the snow, holding the reins with one hand and the other dropping the hammer into the pocket of your cloak mindlessly as you guide the horse towards the entrance of the woods.

The crows are crowing, flapping their wings, and flying away as soon as your horse reaches them. The signs are unclear, covered in thick snow as if their old writings are not fading away already.

The howling of the wolves makes you shiver in fear. Their voices are getting clearer and closer, and you need to follow the path that leads to… somewhere. You have no idea where, perhaps a cottage, or a house, or even a castle. Based on the rumors it must be a castle, or the ruins of it at least.

The tales used to be funny, a bedtime story for little kids, but as soon as the disappearances started, things turned out for the worse. It felt as if the creature’s long-lasting savings of food of are finished and his hunger is now looming over the city.

You turn to the left, your horse resisting and neighing before suddenly the voices of the wolves grow closer. You bolt through the path, trying to escape the voices before you stumble upon a huge gate.

Your horse is startled by the darkness surrounding the gate, and behind the freezing bars, there rests a castle in all its glory; the building is huge, and the path leading to its entrance is surrounded by neatly cut bushes. The castle’s terraces are filled with statues of unknown creatures.

You jump down from your horse, shushing the poor animal before you walk towards the gate, examining the lock that held the doors together. Grabbing your hammer from your pocket, you swing the heavy object, trying to break the lock in one swing — the first attempt is a miss, you knock the metallic bars and create a loud sound. The second time, you hit the lock but the impact is not powerful enough to break it.

The third time's a charm; with one swing, you break the lock, fiddling with the broken thing to pull it out and open the gates for yourself.

But when you look up, you notice a flickering light coming from one of the empty terraces, and a shadow is hidden in the dark. Someone is there, you are sure of that because the glinting of a clear gemstone can be seen under the moonlight even from such a great distance.

The glinting is gone as soon as you guide your horse past the gates and towards the entrance of the castle, trying to hold it from rearing back and leaving you alone, but it is a lost cause when the animal is strong enough to knock you down and run out of this creepy place.

You sigh, tightening your grip around the hammer as you slowly push the large doors open, a rush of wind knocking you back as soon as you step inside, slamming the doors shut behind you.

You grab your hammer with both hands, cautiously walking inside the large room, looking around to find a candle so you can at least see where you are heading. Eventually, you reach a table with a burning candle on it at the bottom of the stairs. Picking it up before it ends, you make your way to a half-opened door, leading to a large dining room.

The room is cold, much colder than a human being to be able to live in, and at first glance, besides the dining table and a dusty fireplace, it looks as if no one has touched it in years.

You walk further inside the room, noticing the spider webs all over the walls and couches, even on the chairs and the empty plates — all except for one. The only chair that looks clean is on the other head of the table with an identical empty plate in front of it. But what catches your attention is not the plate, it is the full goblet next to it.

You examine the goblet, noticing the red stains around the rim, thinking of the wine this evil creature must have been having. But the smell is quite unlikely from whatever you have ever drank. No wine smells like metal nor is it so thick.

You grab the goblet and swirl the liquid in it, spilling a little on yourself before you bring the edge of it to your lips, tasting the liquid. You have never gagged so harshly in your life before, but now, you gag, cough, and spit the blood out.

You back away from the table quickly, dropping the goblet on the floor. You notice a trail of blood on the hardwood, leading to the corner of the room, hiding under the shadows. With slow and shaky steps, you follow the trail, gasping when you see your Granny lying there, no color on her face and her neck torn open.

Granny, your sweet precious Granny who took you in after your parents’ death is now dead in a creepy unknown castle possibly haunted by a mysterious man.

You fall on your knees next to her, letting go of the hammer as you pull her in your arms, holding her close as you sob atop her. Not in even a thousand years you could have thought about her dying like this; with so little dignity, bitten and bloodied like an animal.

Your eyes catch a shadow moving right outside of the door, merging with the darkness under the flickering candlelight. The shadow is long, and you can figure out a person’s silhouette as you slowly lower your grandma on the floor, grabbing your hammer before approaching the door without making any noise.

Slipping out the door, you follow the shadow into another hall, much larger and emptier than before, only decorated with one loveseat in front of a cold fireplace and a few empty goblets on a table next to the arm of the chair. The walls are covered in different portraits of different people, but you can see how all of them have two similar traits to your unknown haunter — long silver hair and red eyes.

“Hmm.”

You whip your head towards the sound, gripping the handle of the hammer tightly as you search for the source. You are scared, terrified even. Who wouldn’t be if they found their grandmother dead with blood gushing out of her while they tried to make sense of the creature who only was supposed to be a fantasy? A myth not worth exploring?

“I wonder if you taste just as sweet as you smell.”

“Step into the light!” you scream, your voice echoing in the room as you try to keep your breathing even, “Show yourself, you monster!”

“Monster?” He sounds so sweet, so calming and soothing, “Sweet lamb, I am anything but a monster.”

“You killed my grandmother!” you hold back a sob as you turn around yourself, trying to figure out where he is standing, “I should kill you myself, y-you murdered all those people! You kidnapped them and-and—“

“I did not murder them against their will,” he is walking around the room, hidden in the dark, but his footsteps can be heard as he talks, “They were all on the brink of death, I took mercy upon them, and in return, well… I feasted upon them.”

“Who are you?” You yell back, walking to where you think he might be, swinging your hammer in hopes of breaking a bone or two, “What are you, monster?”

“I am the Kinslayer your tales talk about,” he tells you, chuckling when he feels you shiver, “The long forgotten blood thirsty prince.”

“Step out, coward! If you are a kinslayer as you say, then you fear nothing! Step out and show yourself to me!”

“Oh, no, no, sweet lamb,” he hums again, his footsteps growing more distant, “I will not show myself to you so easily. You have come to my home, interrupted my meal. You are in no position to demand anything.”

“I will not leave until I kill you,” you reply, swinging the hammer and throwing it at the shadow, screaming when a loud bang echoes in the hall, alerting you that you have once more missed your aim, “I will haunt you down the way you did to all those poor people!”

“Excellent!” he chuckles once more, and you can feel him circling around you, “Let us play a game, sweet lamb; I hide and you haunt me, and if you catch me, I am yours to do as you please.”

“And if I don’t?” you pant, nails digging into your palms as you try to follow his footsteps, “What will happen to me?”

“We shall see.”

Then you feel him leave the room, his shadow following him outside. You bolt after him, trying to keep up with him but soon you lose track of his shadow.

You have no idea what part of the castle you are in now; a large staircase leads to two wings of the castle, and each one probably contains many rooms and halls. Figuring he would follow you either way, you choose to go to the west wing, skipping a step or two on your way up as you try to find another hall and a weapon to wield.

With ragged breaths, you reach another hall, a much larger one that you assume used to be a dance hall filled with lords and ladies, and much to your luck, you find metallic armors resting on a wall, holding a sword in their hands.

Before you can run towards them, you see a glance of the man’s white hair flowing in the wind before he’s gone again. The room is quiet and dark, but you can pinpoint where things rest thankfully due to the bright moonlight.

“Come out!” you yell, making your way to one of the armors and grabbing a sword before you see the glint of his eye for one second and disappearing again.

You try to follow his steps, or even the air that thickens when he walks away, but all is lost when you can not find him in another hall. You could be lost already for all you know, you could be in the heart of the castle where no one can hear your screams while he tears through your flesh, or you through his.

The sword is heavy but it is necessary as you carry it to the other halls attached to the bigger ones — it looks like a maze, a mind game he has created just to trap someone like you inside and have his fill with of.

You are doing your very best, but even the strongest soldiers grow weak sometimes. Stopping in the middle of a much smaller hall, you look around and take your surroundings in; a small table is next to one of the walls with cuffs attached to the sides of the table, red blood stains cover the wooden surface and you finally realize you have walked into the lion’s den with your own feet.

This room is for his victims, people he takes his time with to pull out layers of skin one by one and lick the blood off of the wounds.

“Welcome, sweet lamb.”

You turn around quickly, holding the sword up as best as you can as he finally walks inside the room with a candle in hand, revealing himself to your angry eyes.

“You lost,” you say shakily, your hands trembling as you struggle to keep the heavy metal up, pointing it at the pale human in front of you, “Now tell me what you are.”

“Oh, sweet sweet lamb, I did not lose,” he chuckles, one hand behind his back while the other puts the candle on the table, his white hair framing his face as he looks down at his shoes before his one eye meets your frightened gaze, “I found you, which means…”

“Don’t you dare come closer,” you say through gritted teeth, holding the sword tighter in your hand while you take a step back as soon as he takes one forward, “I fucking won, now tell me what is going on?”

“Shh,” he holds his hand behind his back, his long black coat makes him even taller than he must be, and with the way he walks towards you, it starts a fire within you, a fire so bright and burning that has you breathing faster, “I told you; I am the Kinslayer from centuries ago. Aemond Targaryen, the one-eye prince.”

“That’s impossible!” you cry out when he steps closer, wrapping your fingers around the sword as hard as you can, ready to strike if he comes much closer, “Targaryens died at least three hundred years ago! You were wiped off because of what you did to people! What you are now doing to my people!”

“My family died because they were fools,” he leans a bit down, his one red eye glimmering under the orange light of the candle, “They died because they thought begging nicely for a drop of blood would keep them safe. Only I was clever enough to find a way to survive.”

“By killing people! By murdering innocent humans who were happy an hour before you took them in!”

He steps closer until the tip of the sharp blade is pressed against his chest, but he does not back away, not really. He is not scared of death, that much is visible, but he also loves to play, and that makes it much harder to resist him. He is trying to lure you in, to hurt him, to somehow make the first move so he would not be responsible for what may come next.

“You kill animals to cook, I like my meals fresh, warm, and immediate,” he raises his hand to the blade, wrapping his fingers around it before he pulls you closer, his blood leaking on the sword and the floor as he keeps tightening his grip, “I drink to survive, and I play to live.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” your lips quiver as you say, “You have to pay for what you did to my Granny, I will make sure of it.”

“Be my guest, sweet lamb.”

You do just as he wants, wielding the sword quickly and cutting through his hand, going for another blow before he slams you to the wall behind you with his foot, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

Another swing is thrown in his way, and you try to control the heavy object in your hands but he is fast, too fast to your liking, and dodges all the clumsy moves easily, his white hair swinging behind him with each puff and sigh he makes.

With one slap to your wrists, you drop the sword and fall on the floor, looking up at him with teary furious eyes. He only smirks and kneels before you, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear but you take your chance and punch him in the jaw, pushing him down on his back before climbing on top of him, holding his rests next to his head as best as you can while he recovers from the blow.

“I will torture you until you are begging me—uff—“

He flips you over effortlessly, holding you down on the stone cold floor with one knee between your thighs and his crotch pressing your hips down while he holds both of your wrists over your head.

“You are as sick as I am in the head,” he leans down, his hot breath ghosting against your face as he speaks, “You are enjoying this.”

“I am not!” A lie, you know it is a lie, he knows it is a lie. You do enjoy this little game, you love the thrill of killing him and fighting with him. The rage inside you bubbles more with each passing second that you are in his presence, “I would rather die—“

“I will not kill you until I have had my fill,” he whispers, hiding his face into your neck as he sniffs you, “Fuck, you smell so divine, I need to taste you, sweet lamb…”

“Fuck!” You let out a noise between a scream and a moan when he bites down on your shoulder just above your collarbone, his fangs pushing past your flesh as he reaches deep inside and starts sucking harshly, “You monster!”

He only hums and smiles, his thin lips wrapped tightly around the open wound — he can not get enough. He knew how sweet you smelled, your scent drove him crazy as soon as you stepped inside his castle but to get to taste you? Licking and gulping down your blood like a starved man is something he did not expect, especially when you are still alive and writhing beneath him in pain and pleasure.

He can make you taste even sweeter.

“You call me a monster while you are rocking your hips to relieve some of the ache between your thighs,” he says as he lets go of the wound, his chin and teeth covered in crimson red, “So pathetic of you, sweet lamb.”

You do not have anything to say, not really because he is already pushing your nightgown up to your hips with his free hand while his other is undoing your cloak. You shiver when the cold air of the room hits your heated inner thighs, your pearl throbbing in anticipation and primal desire.

He is just as mesmerized as you are when he rips your underwear to shreds and runs his

fingers through your wet folds, enticing a whine from you. He has you right where he wants.

You writhe beneath him as he circles your nerves with his thumb, making your body tremble with each stroke, your cunt clenching around nothing, wetness dribbling out of your hole in need.

“It’s my time to play,” he announces and reaches between your bodies to free his already aching cock, stroking a few times until it stands in full hardness.

He wiggles around a little while you try to free yourself from his grasp, not trying to yield too quickly, but the look on his face is enough to make you whimper and spread your legs further for him.

Aemond guides the tip of his weeping cock to your entrance, pushing in completely with one swift thrust, drawing a loud moan from your sweet lips as he sheathes himself inside you fully, filling you up nicely.

Your walls grip his length tightly, pulsing and squeezing him every few seconds before he starts moving, his hips snapping into yours as he holds himself up with one hand pushing your wrists into the floor harshly while the other holds his body up.

Your back arches off the stones, legs wrapping around his waist as your mind goes to another place, taking his cock like the sweet lamb he calls you, allowing him to take and take from you — he has prepared you after all with his silly games of hide and seek, seeding the thrill inside you.

“I shall keep you alive,” he groans in your ear as he once more moves his head to the wound he created, licking the blood from your shoulder while his cock nudges the deepest part of your cunt, making your body quiver in sheer pleasure, “Your blood is too sweet for me to waste. I will keep you here with me, as my doomed queen while I feast upon you every night, leaving open wounds for me to drink from whenever I desire—“

With a newfound strength, you wrap your legs around his waist tightly and flip him over until his head hits the stone floor and you free yourself from his grip.

Now with you on top, you take the lead, riding his cock as best as you can. Hands spread on his covered chest while you rock your hips front and back, moaning like a harlot in heat as you bring both of you to the edge of euphoria.

He falls apart first; the sight of you on top of him while half of your body is covered in blood is too much for him. It has been too long since he has had a woman bedding him, but now, with a sweet lamb like you trying to bring some pleasure to yourself by using him, he is a gone man.

He paints your insides white with his cum, and you lean back on his shin to make room for yourself, bouncing on top of him faster when suddenly you feel a dagger in his boots.

The sudden revelation makes you climax right after him, your wetness gushing around his girth as you ride the centuries-old vampire to your pleasure while you pull the dagger out as best as you can with your entire body shaking in pleasure.

“Sweet lamb—“

His voice is lost when you stab him in the heart, not once, not twice, but five times, screaming and crying while you keep stabbing him until there is enough blood to bathe in, but even then, you do not stop. You slit his throat as well, and it is then that you feel his body soften and go limp completely.

You drop the bloodied dagger and try to move, completely pulling yourself away from his body as he bleeds out and his seed drips out of your sensitive cunt.

You took your revenge, now all you can do is hope for his seed to rot and die inside of you, or you will have to bear the offspring of a dead vampire legacy.

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #rue writes✍️#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd smut

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v1sexual · 21 hours ago

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that’s a wrap 🎬 ; vi (arcane)

a behind the senes arcane modern au ! (bcs wtf was that ending)

note : this fic (like all of my other ones) are a bit (a lot actually) self indulgent. this will also be in a third person’s point of view because i’m trying to get used (and get better) writing in a 3rd person’s pov. this is also lowkey a vi x reader *sighs*, i just love my gf so bad ya’ll.

p.s. the character names are also their names in ‘real life’ (because i said so).

cw : spoilers for arcane act 3, swearing,

unedited & not proofread

ever since she got her dream role as one of the leading cast in arcane, she started filming bits and pieces of how the show came to life (with the consent of everyone involved of course). since the filming of season 1 up to season 2 act three, (name) has compiled an hour worth of uncut behind the scenes content that she and the cast planned on releasing during the opening premiere for the last act of arcane.

“you ready shortcake?” (name)’s girlfriend called out, just as she finished putting a thin sheet of lipgloss on her lips. “almost done violet,” she called out, putting her shoes one.

(name) took one last look at herself in the full body mirror, admiring her hard work. she wore a dark red dress paired with sheer black elbow length gloves, and black platform heels with red accents (that violet gifted you a couple months ago).

after shoving her phone inside a red clutch, (name)’s bedroom door opened. violet stood in front of her. she wore a two-piece suit with a dark red button-up blouse tucked inside her pants, the first couple of buttons of the blouse were undone, and her hair (at least the ones on the side of her head that wasn’t shaved) was in a messy slick back.

“absolutely gorgeous,” vi whispered under her breath. she walked towards (name), she placed her hands on her girlfriend’s hips before leaning down to kiss her. “flatterer,” (name) giggled as she pressed a finger against vi’s lips, preventing vi from kissing her.

vi nipped at her girlfriend’s gloved finger, “i speak the truth, and nothing but the truth.” she whispered.

(name) hummed, smiling lovingly as her girlfriend. “thank you baby, you look amazing yourself. hot even.”

a loud noise came from (name) and vi’s phone, interrupting their moment.

“we need to go violet, it’s almost time for the premiere.” (name) exclaimed excitedly, breaking away from her girlfriend. she held onto vi’s arm and practically dragged her outside.

“i don’t get a kiss before we go?” vi pouted, (name) rolled her eyes before pressing a quick peck on vi’s lips then proceeded to get inside the passenger seat of her girlfriend’s car. vi sighed, shaking her head before she went inside the driver seat and thinking how she’d make you pay later for not giving her a proper kiss.

ꕀ

let’s just say that everyone was bawling after premiering the last three episodes of arcane. (name) sat in between vi and her sister powder (whose head was resting against ekko’s shoulder) practically vibrating with excitement as the producers went on stage to thank everyone, especially the fans, for coming to the premiere.

it was almost time to present the special behind the scenes video (name) made. everyone knew of the special little project but no one has really seen it, not the director, the producers, or even her loving girlfriend. soon enough, she was called on stage for a little speech and to present the video.

“hi everyone,” she started, voice shaking a bit. “first of all i would like to thank you for coming to tonight’s premiere. it’s been an honor to work with you for the past couple of years. as you all know, i’ve been compiling tons of little snippets of us ever since the production of arcane has started. all in all, i’ve collected an hour’s worth of behind the scenes content. since i didn’t want to keep all of us in here for another hour or so i’ve edited the video and out came the 10 minute behind the scenes compilation that i’m about to play. but don’t worry, i’ve already uploaded the original uncut version to the shared online album for everyone to view.”

a series of murmurs and giggles filled the audience as (name) gave herself a second to pause. “anyways,” you cleared your throat. “without further ado, i present, arcane : behind all the heartbreak and drama, enjoy!”

when (name) sat down next to her girlfriend, the video started rolling.

ꕀ

scene one.

the camera unfocused and focused as a young looking (name) had her face up to close to it’s lens. she had a cheeky smile on her face.

“hi guys! it’s (name) and today is the first day of filming arcane!” she then proceeded to flip the camera and did a little trailer tour. she the went outside where she introduced everyone in the cast as well as the director and producers.

scene two.

the video cuts to what seems to be the scene where the battle between silco and vander happened. (name) shows the audience the set, some of the special effects, and had the actresses for young vi and powder do a little question and answer for her.

“hey girls!” she called out. the two children ran towards her, giddy smiles on their faces. it was right after filming the scene of vi and powder’s falling out, when vi called powder a jinx.

“how does the nose feel?” (name) asked, gingerly touching child powder’s nose that hade fake blood dripping from it. the child shrugged, replying “i’ve had worse. she punches like a little girl.” which made the tween who played young vi roll her eyes.

“that’s a bunch of bull! she cried actual tears, like real tears! she totally wasn’t acting”

(name) sighed and left the two children to playfully argue before the camera cuts to vander and silco. the two men were taking a nap on the side of the set, both had their arms crossed and head leaning against the wall. “they truly are brother,” she spoke into the camera.

the scene cuts again, this time (name) was with the kids who played mylo and claggor.

“as you can see i am not dead,” mylo shouted at the camera, a cheeky grin on his face. while claggor imitates mylo’s death scene, his hand clutching where the steel bar pierces mylo’s skin before dramatically falling to the ground and laughing his ass off.

scene three.

(name)’s camera was propped up against a mirror, she was currently in the hair and make-up booth with jayce, viktor, and mel. she held her mic against her, “so my dearest mel, how does it feel to have everyone wish they were jayce during that one scene?” (name) wiggled her eyebrows as mel began laughing uncontrollably.

“all i can say is i’d rather have the beautiful zaunite enforcer rather than the golden boy,” mel said jokingly into the mic, referring to (name)’s character in the show. making everyone in the dressing room laugh.

the scene then cuts to what seems to be (name) reading people’s tweets regarding the show to the rest of the cast.

“jayce this one’s directed to you,” (name) said in between laughs. “i hate hate hate jayce talis. imagine being in the lap of a literal goddess but all you is cry and whine about your historic twink bag fumble.”

jayce was dumbfounded as everyone doubled up in laughter. “what the fuck is that supposed to mean?!?” he shouted. poor boy looked so confused, he looked like he had stroke trying to understand what historic twink bag fumble meant.

“this last one is for vik,” (name) started as the laughter died down (jayce still consfused in the background, asking vi what ‘historic twink bag fumble’ meant). “one of the fans said, ‘can i lick-“ almost immediately (name) started laughing.

“they said ‘can i lick viktor’s hextechticles.’” almost immediately everyone started laughing again, the sounds of boisterous laughter filled the room.

viktor’s cheeks tinted pink, he gripped his stomach as he laughed. “i have no idea how to respond to that.” he wheezed into the mic.

scene four.

“good morning everyone!” (name) exclaimed, waving at the camera. “we have my fave girl with us. the one, the only, caitlyn!”

the blue haired girl grinned, “but i’m not your favorite-“ she said in a teasing tone before got she cut off.

“you are my favorite girl,” (name) huffed, a visible blush paints her cheek as caitlyn rolled her eyes playfully.

she then proceeded to do a quick set tour, showing the audience how it really looked like without any cgi and all that jazz. the scene ends with (name) and caitlyn yapping about routines or rituals that helped them get in the mood to play their characters.

scene five.

this clip was taken during the filming of season two. (name) smiled at camera, her fingers on her lips in a shushing expression then pans the camera behind her. she was in one of the dressing rooms, and in the corner was sevika, powder (dressed up as jinx), and isha, who were sound asleep.

“look at this cute little dysfunctional family,” (name) whispered. sevika had powder leaning on her shoulder as isha was sprawled on her lap.

scene six.

“don’t fret ya’ll she’s alive!” (name) shouted at the camera, holding isha out like a sacrificial lamb. the camera seemed like it was held by someone significantly taller than her, the angle looking a bit funny as she held isha up.

the child laughed, (name) then propped the kid on her hip. powder then walked in-frame, she took isha from (name)’s hold and helped the kid up on her shoulders. “SHE’S ALIVEEEE!” powder shouted before running around the set, her hands supporting the kid’s weight.

“i swear if she dropped the kid-“ a voice from behind the camera mumbled.

“they’re gonna be fine vi,” (name) laughed. “let them be.”

scene seven.

during this scene, instead of the usual (name) who filmed most (if not all) the videos, it was cait and powder who held the camera. a cheeky grin etched on their lips. the camera then flipped to show their surroundings.

lo and behold, it was vi. she was cocooned in a thick blanket snoring away without a care in the world. cait then proceeded to walk towards her. once close enough, she held the camera at an angle to show (name) who was tucked between vi’s legs, her head resting against vi’s chest with the blanket almost covering her whole body.

“aren’t they the cutest,” cait snickered.

“can’t beat the dating allegations now,” powder replied with a snort.

scene eight.

“i’m actually bawling,” (name) whispered into the camera before adjusting it to show the rest of the set. the others are currently in the middle of filming a scene for act 3, she zoomed the camera to powder and ekko. they were dancing as the song ‘ma meilleure ennemie’ played in the background.

mylo and claggor’s hushed voices joined (name)’s as she continued to film, then suddenly the camera was yanked away and mylo’s face entered the frame.

“for anyone wondering, they’re actually dating in real life.” mylo whispered, claggor then appeared next to him with an unamused expression. “that was supposed to be a secret! they’re not out in the public yet.” he scolded.

“well, you can tell by the chemistry and tension between them. doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. have you seen the dating rumours?”

(name)’s sigh was visibly heard before snatching the camera. “if by then ekko and power hasn’t come out as a couple yet i’ll just cut this part out.” she murmured.

scene nine.

“what is everyone’s fave song from the series?” (name) said, reading aloud the question written in a piece of paper.

“that’s a tough one,” ambessa said.

“probably to ashes and blood,” sevika exclaimed, then nods of agreement and murmurs filled the room.

“mine’s a no brainer,” heimerdinger piped. “my favorite song is spin the wheel, sung by yours truly.” everyone laughed, a couple people agreed as others began playfully teasing heimerdinger.

(name) smiled at her friends before looking at the camera. “my favorite has to be our love or ma meillure ennemie.”

“enemy by imagine dragons!”

everyone then proceeded to sing the song, goofily making sound effects and lowering their voices.

scene ten.

(name) panned the camera up, she zoomed in on vi and powder as they acted one of the most heartbreaking scenes in act 3. vi’s gauntlet clutched powder’s hand as the blue haired girl dangled, vander, who was dressed in the pre-cgi warwick costume, held her, the wires supporting their weights.

tears streamed down vi’s face as she looked down at her sister, she opened her mouth to deliver her line but nothing came out.

“crap, i forgot the line. wait.” she called out, smiling sheepishly.

the director sighed, “cut! let’s roll that again.”

powder laughed and shakes her head. “you fucking idiot.”

“cut it out you two,” vander scolded, his deep voice menacing yet playful.

“yeah, yeah.” vi replied, then held a thumbs up to signal that she was ready.

(name)’s laughs can be heard from behind the camera, she then flipped it to show her face. “you guys are about to hate every single thing about this scene i just know it.” caitlyn appeared next to her, she nursed a cup of coffee and smiled at the camera.

“be sure to keep your eyes open though,” was all caitlyn said before winking and walking away.

ꕀ

pictures taken from the set began to appear in a slideshow as the video ended. almost everyone was in shambles, especially the fans who were invited to come to the premiere. a round of applause echoed across the room as the producers step onto the stage again for the closing remarks.

the event ended a couple hours later than expected. the cast mingled, had a late dinner and a couple of drinks. everyone was enjoying themselves and having fun one last time before they went their separate ways.

“sad to think how i won’t be seeing everyone everyday now,” (name) whispered sadly as she and vi sat in one corner of the room. “i sure will miss everyone.”

vi draped an arm over her girlfriend’s shoulders, she leaned down until her face was adjacent to (name)’s. “not us though.” vi smiled teasingly.

“won’t you get tired of me though?” (name) asked, her hands cupped vi’s cheeks. her girlfriend snorted, acting as if she had just told a funny joke. “not by a long shot cupcake.”

the two leaned forward, their noses touching, lips only centimetres apart. just as about their lips met, cait’s voice startled them.

“i’m gonna have to borrow my best girl for a second vi,” she teased. “you can have (name) all to yourself later but for now we need to dance.”

the next thing (name) knew she was being dragged to dance floor by caitlyn, loud music blasting as her friend swayed. she looked back at vi who shrugged at her, a smile playing on her lips. (name) smiled before blowing her girlfriend a kiss. soon enough everybody joined them on the dance floor. ekko, powder, and isha danced in a circle, sevika who was reluctantly dragged by mel, jayce and viktor who gawked at heimerdinger (who was absolutely smashing the dance floor by the way), and then there was mylo who was talking to the dj as claggor did his best in becoming wingman of the year. some stayed seated and chose to drink, like silco, vander, and ambessa, who watched the others danced.

soon enough, the night finally ended. a couple people who were sober chaperoned those who were drunk, some opted to stay in nearby hotels. after saying their goodbyes, vi and (name) drove back to their shared apartment.

“that was fun,” (name) yawned as she plopped down on the couch, vi knelt in front of her started taking off her girlfriend’s shoes.

“tired?” she asked, rubbing the soles of (name)’s sore feet making the smaller girl groan. she responded with a soft ‘yes’, before closing her eyes. the sensation of vi’s lips making it’s way up her thigh startled her, her eyes fluttered open as she looked down.

vi smiled pressing another kiss on her girlfriend’s thigh before hiking them up and resting them on her shoulders. (name)’s dress pooled at her upper thigh, exposing her soft skin. “you sure?” vi whispered.

“mmm,” (name) hummed. “maybe not too tired.” she answered, making her girlfriend chuckle.

“good,” vi murmured against (name)’s skin. “because you’re in for a long night shortcake.”

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vauer · 12 hours ago

Text

𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Reader x Jinx

SUMMARY: you are a thief who steals from people who are passing through your town. this time you came across the wrong person. that didn't stop you from fucking her though.

TW: sub!Jinx, fem!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, some kind of plot(?), fastburn

(English isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes💌)

★∻∹⋰⋰ ☆∻∹⋰⋰ ★∻∹⋰⋰ ☆∻∹⋰⋰★∻∹⋰⋰ ☆∻∹⋰⋰

Jinx moaned softly as she kissed her new friend's thin lips. The edge of the countertop rests uncomfortably against her lower back, forcing her to arch her back and make a dissatisfied mumble, only to hear a quiet chuckle in response. She couldn't believe how quickly this girl had managed to win her over.

A couple of weeks ago, a strange woman came into her small workshop. You were pretty and looked to be no more than twenty, but your piercing gaze was too intently and sharply jumping over various details of the interior, studying the situation. And you were wearing some ugly kind of wig.

“I haven't met you here before. May I know the name of such a charming lady?” your eyes sparkled playfull. Your intonation and body language put Jinx in a stupor. Since she faked her death and fled to the edge of the world, away from Piltover, changing her appearance, she has not yet received any attention from anyone. Jinx wasn't really sure if it was sarcasm, because she didn't look her best right now: crookedly cropped hair had grown back and looked even more untidy, and bright blue hair roots were starting to grow out from under the purple dye. And that's not to mention the oil and dust stains on the clothes.

“Powder," Jinx said after a couple of seconds of reflection. Lately, she's been using her old name to avoid attracting attention.

“Like baby powder or gunpowder?” you grinned annoyingly, leaning slightly on the table.

"Like gunpowder," Jinx replied grimly, rolling her eyes.

"Then you can call me Fuse," you grinned again, winking. Despite your outspoken flirtation, Jinx didn't miss the way your gaze appraisingly scanned her hideout.

"I have a business here, not a dating club," she grumbled, lazily rolling a blue hexteck ball around the table. Jinx chuckled inwardly, noticing how your gaze immediately eagerly darted to the jewel, as she suspected.

A couple of days later, she finally caught you trying to sneak into her workshop late at night.

“Are you looking for this?” Jinx appeared behind you, inserting a blue ball into the gun and pointing it at you.

“Rather for you,” not confused, you took a seductive pose, leaning on the table. “Jinx, right?”

“Well, how did you find out?” She rolled her eyes, pouting and moving closer to use the edge of the gun to push the hood off your head. Well, at least you weren't wearing an ugly burgundy wig right now. "I don't want to kill you. I'm kind of done with it.”

“Who else would have this round blue thing but Jinx? You're almost a legend. Almost,” you shrugged. You didn't seem to care much about the hextek-loaded pistol next to your temple. "You don't have to hide your identity here. No one cares who you are.”

"Except for you, of course," Jinx rolled her eyes.

“I don't care either. But I can say that you are too charming for the inadequate maniac they call you," you grinned flirtatiously again.

The shot cut off the edge of your bangs.

“Shut up!” Jinx said tiredly, going upstairs to sleep. Anyway, there was nothing to steal from her except the blue ball.She earned a couple of coins by repairing all kinds of utensils for the residents of the city, and that was all her money.

You had been coming to her several times a day for the past two weeks, but at least hadn't tried to steal anything. You just stared at Jinx while she worked, fixing something or building custom devices. After a while, you started chatting about little things, you brought her a snack when Jinx sat in the workshop for hours without leaving. She had to admit that she liked such a quiet life much more than the hustle, intrigue and dangers of Piltover.

Day after day, and at some point Jinx found herself pinned against her own desk, whimpering softly in need as your deft hands pulled off her top, tracing the contours of her tattoos with your fingers. You leaned to her neck, leaving weightless kisses on the pale, almost transparent skin.

Jinx's knees were already buckling with impatience and excitement, and a fog of lust filled her head. Squeezing the thin skin of her thighs, you lifted her up, setting her down on the table. You lips gently touched the skin between Jinx's breasts, saying one word.

— Perfect.

Jinx flinched, her eyes widening. Then a purple flash followed and she practically hung on to you, wrapping her legs around your waist and kissing you deeply, simultaneously taking off your top.

Meanwhile, you reached for her pants, pulling them off along with her underwear. Jinx leaned back, supporting her reclining position with her hands. Her stomach was trembling slightly with excitement as your lips dropped a kiss just below her waist.

Finally, you wrapped your arms around her hips, lifting her legs and pressing your lips to her wet and throbbing flesh, making Jinx moan and arch her back.

Your soft tongue explored her folds inside and out, knocking more whimpers and moans out of her and causing her muscles to contract from overexcitation.

"You're doing great for the first time," you purred, pulling back slightly to run a finger over her sensitive clit, lightly teasing her entrance before gently pushing two fingers inside. Jinx tensed slightly, but then relaxed, and feeling pleasantly full, began to move her hips towards your hand. The wet sounds only added to their excitement.

You smiled contentedly at the sight of Jinx’s eyes closed with pleasure and her bitten lower lip. When you curled your fingers upward slightly inside her, Jinx screamed at the unusual sensations, breathing heavily.

“What is it?” She mumbled plaintively as you plugged her with a wet kiss, continuing to move your fingers inside her. You showered Jinx's chin and neck with soothing kisses, feeling her inner muscles begin to contract, bringing orgasm closer.

You accelerated your movements slightly, pressing your fingers against her upper wall and applying pressure to her swollen clit. Jinx didn't have time to figure out what happened when she felt a clear liquid squirting out of her on her thighs and stomach. Blushing, she tilted her head back, allowing the orgasm to swallow her.

***

A few weeks of being alone and talking to herself had loosened Jinx's tongue. She desperately wanted to brag about how brilliantly she had convinced the whole of Piltover and her own sister of her death.

“And then I slipped out through the ventilation and hijacked the airship while they mourned the dead and me,” Jinx enthusiastically talked about her adventures, while you lazily braided her short hair into small pigtails.

“And then where did you put it?” you asked.

“And that's beside the point, as far as I remember," Jinx narrowed her eyes in displeasure. You grinned, pulling her closer to your chest.

#arcane #arcane smut #Arcane nswf #jinx #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #Reader x jinx #smut #jinx x fem!reader

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xoxolilixx · 1 day ago

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☽︎ 𝘽𝙞𝙜 𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡 ☾︎

✩𝙀𝙠𝙠𝙤 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧✩

✩𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 - your ego is bigger than your cunt, and now your forced to eat your words by Ekko's hands.

✩𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 - SMUT. pet names, crying, ekko being a asshole, unprotected sex(WRAP THAT SHIT BEFORE YOU TAP THAT SHIT)

✩𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - this is my first smut in a while and I feel like I overdid it with the details🥲 Nonetheless I hope you guys enjoy it ❤︎

You were always a little cocky. You thought the most of yourself, and that was fine, that's what Ekko loved about you, especially in moments where it came to bite you in the ass, like now.

"Are you sure, love?" He chuckled softly as he sat down in his desk chair, leant back with his knees spread as his dark beautiful eyes watched as you sat atop his desk, "I don't wanna break you." You couldn't help but laugh at his teasing and condescending tone, taking it as his way of challenging you as you hopped off his desk, "I'll be just fine, Ekko," you smirked as you maneuvered yourself in between his thighs, making his face somewhat leveled with the blessing in between your legs. "I'm a big girl, baby, I can handle myself," You continued as you stood before him in nothing but short, tight, black leather shorts that were paired nicely with fishnets and a makeshift crop top. The soft and plush skin of your thick thighs pushed through the holes of the fishnets, he couldn't help but eye you up and down to take in all of your curves. It wasn't until you gently pinched his chin with your thumb and pointer finger that he stopped looking at you, his eyes locking yours before he smirked. "You a big girl, huh?" He chuckled. "Yea, I'm not like those other bitches you used to fuck, I can actually handle it," you smirked as you leaned down closer to him, your hands resting on his arm rests as you bent down. Something about the way your body was bent down and the way your words slipped past your lips, it made his dick jump in his cargo pants. "Alright, show me how much of a big girl you are~"

He forced your words right back down your throat when he barely sinks the tip of his cinnamon brown, 8.5 inch, girthy cock into your soft, tight, little pussy and you start whimpering, panting out tiny little breaths as you feel him slowly stretch you open. "Damn baby, I thought you were a big girl," he chuckled "you can't even get past the tip princess," he cooed as his big form trapped you against the bed, his hand holding his weight up from beside your head as you look up at him with those big, needy, doe eyes. You didn't even have a comeback for his teasing comment, instead a broken whine slipped past your lips. He couldn't help the grunt that came out when your pussy tightened around his tip like a vice in an attempt to force him out. The mixture of your tightness and the sight of your pretty face scrunched up as you tried to inch away from him made his cock twitch as precum spilt out of his tip.

"Fuckk~" you whimpered as he free hand gripped your hip, tugging you back to him with a breathy chuckle, "c'mon princess, don't tap out now, you doing so good f'me," he cooed mockingly, coaxing tears from your eyes as he sunk deeper into your tight pussy. "Poor baby, what's wrong?" He smirked as he reached up, wiping your tears from your cheeks with his thumb. His condescending tone made you want to curl up into a ball, you suddenly felt so much smaller under him, and your sniffing and crying as he sunk farther into you didn't help.

The stretch hurt so much that it left your legs shaking and you clawing at his forearms. You were thankful that Ekko had ditched the his condescendingness, gently coaxing you through it with "your doing so good f'me," and "I got you baby, just a little more," before messily kissing you so deeply that it left your head spinning with love. All whilst holding the back of your knees to your chest, leaving your feet dangling over his shoulders as he watched his cock bully its way into your tight, weeping pussy.

"Shit baby, I bet you wished you listened to me now~" he cooed softly as his eyes rolled back, feeling you clench down on him so hard that he could barely move in you.

After that, you learned to not be so cocky and listen to him…

#ekko #ekko arcane #arcane #Ekko smut #ekko x reader #smut #lilixoxo smut #lilixoxo writes #lilixoxo stories #ekko x fem!reader #black!reader #black!fem!reader #arcane smut

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lowkeyerror · 2 days ago

Text

Reunited

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Notes: Angry mob, mega fluff, soft!Agatha (potentially ooc)

Summary: Though you have lost your powers, you still find yourself subject to the hardships of being a witch, as an angry mob chases you out of town. As you run, you remember that Agatha lives in the area, hopefully she's home.

An: Very soft, kind of short, self indulgent fluff. As always likes, reblogs, replies, and asks always are always welcomed 🫶 (not proofread)

Masterlist

You could feel your heart beating in sync with your feet touching the ground. Your breaths were being forced out of your mouth, as the cold night air glided across your skin. Your arms, pumping faster than they ever had before as you ran.

The sound of the mob behind you never dulled, no matter how fast you thought you were going.

You knew better than to turn around and check, it would only make you split your focus. The destination you had in mind was quickly approaching, but part of you was hesitant.

There was a chance the witch no longer resided in that area. It had been years since you had seen her, but she was your only hope. The ruins she had in place would keep the angry mob from getting to you.

You were a witch without power and the townsfolk knew that. You were no threat to them like this, they were just naturally violent creatures.

There had been an incident at the market, where they thought they saw you doing magic. You denied, but the bigger the crowd got, the worse your nerves got. You took off and they followed behind you; torches and pitchforks in hand.

You smack into something while running. At first you believe it to be a tree, but you see nothing ahead. It looks like more forest, but you are physically unable to go through the barrier.

She was still here.

“Agatha, Agatha, please it’s me, Y/n. I don’t have my magic, this mob is chasing me, please,” you whisper, against the field.

You hear their footsteps getting close and you go into full panic, abandoning your quiet tactic.

“AGATHA PLEASE!” You begin banging the invisible force, the sound echoes through the woods.

At your cry, you can hear them pick up speed and charge towards your direction.

“WITCH!”

You turn around your back leans against the field as your chest heaves in distress. You’re helpless as the crowd begins to pour into your space. Fear has never felt so strong in your body.

They begin to corner you, pitchforks and torches point at you from all angles. Before any physical harm can be done, you feel yourself being yanked backwards into the protected area.

The adrenaline wears off when you feel a strong arm wrapped around your torso. Your legs give out, but the person continues to hold you up.

“You ok, doll?”

Her voice feels like a sanctuary in the moment. The simple question overwhelms you quickly and you begin to break down. Tears stream down your face and you begin to sob.

Agatha turns you around to face her. She uses her free hand to smooth some of the hair on top of your head.

“You’re safe now.”

You lean against her clutching her shirt. She lets you for a little, before making the executive decision to carry you inside.

She goes to lay you on the couch, but you refuse to let go of her.

“Let me take care of the mob, and I’ll be right back, ok? It won’t take long.”

She looks at you for approval. Maybe if this was years ago, you would’ve told her no or tried to stop her, but you didn’t have it in you anymore. Your large eyes were bloodshot from the crying and your legs were sore from the running.

You comply as she sits you on the couch this time, “Ok.”

Agatha was surprised at your lack of argument. She didn't dwell on it long before heading out of the home.

It was true, whatever she did was quick, no longer than 5 minutes. You had curled far into yourself by the time she came back. Your feet dug into her couch as your knees were pulled to your chest, with your arms locked around you.

“Y/n,” your name was soft on her lips.

You look at her, tears still in your eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn't know where else to go. If you got rid of them, I can leave.”

Agatha sits next to you, “Go where hun? Back to the village, to the cold of the forest? You can stay with me for a long as you want.”

“I can’t, I don't have anything to offer you,” you try to curl further into yourself, which seems nearly impossible.

Agatha grabs your hand, “I'm not asking for anything in return.”

“B-But-"

“Doll, I want you to stay,” Agatha lets out a sigh.

You meet her blue eyes, “Why?”

“I missed your company,” she speaks truthfully.

You blush at her honesty, diverting your gaze, “I missed you too.”

You subconsciously scoot a little closer to the woman. She takes the initiative, pulling you fully into her. The movement startles you at first, but her warm embrace calms you.

Your legs are on either side of hers, while your head rests in the crook of her neck.

“What happened to your magic?”

You deflate at the question, wishing that you could hide from it. Agatha uses her free hand to gently cup your face, coaxing it out of her neck. Her thumb moves gingerly across your cheek a few times.

You focus on that feeling when you speak, “Sometime after our last encounter, I went looking for a coven. Thought I’d have a better chance of surviving in a group. I found one, thought they were kind enough, I thought so at least. One day we camped out somewhere, when I woke up, they were gone and so was my magic. I’m lucky I'm not dead.”

“I’ll find them, take care of them for you doll.” Agatha’s words were calm, but you could see the fire behind her eyes.

You place your hand over hers, “It doesn’t matter anymore Ags.”

“We should've never parted ways,” Agatha’s eyes pierce through yours.

You cast your gaze down, “I was only ever slowing you down.”

She shakes her head, “Sometimes I needed it. I was reckless, but I would never admit it until you’d say it.”

You could feel her eyes drop down to your lips. Her loose grip on you, tightening slightly.

“Agatha,” your voice a quiet breathless warning.

Her eyes go back to yours, “Hmmm.”

“Are you sure?” Your voice portrays your insecurities.

She pulls back some, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You try to look away, but her finger hooks under your chin, “I’m not useful anymore, I’m just some powerless girl.”

She searches for something across your face, “You’re so much more than your magic. You’ve always been more than your magic.”

“And you still-”

“I’ve always wanted you Y/n, nothing is going to change that,” her voice is unwavering as she speaks.

You blush at the conviction in her tone. You nod subtly and cautiously lean forward. Your eyes drop to her lips. Agatha is certain when she eagerly leans in to meet you.

Her lips are softer than you remember or maybe she's just being delicate with you. Her touch, her movements, everything feels like she is breathing life into you.

It's partially because she is. Her fingertips were slightly pressed against yours and she was passing small doses of her magic into yours.

She was the one to pull away first, longing to look into your eyes. When you open them, your amber irsises greet her. The twinkle in your eyes pull a smile at the end of her lips.

“Did you just? Agatha I can’t, take it back. This is …”

“My way of apologizing. We should've stayed together. It’s my fault you lost your magic, so it only makes sense I put it back.”

“You’re always so different with me,” this time it’s her that blushes under your stare.

“What can I say doll, you bring it out of me.”

You toy with the collar of her shirt. A nervous habit you have always indulged in.

“What is it, Y/n?”

Though you feel shy, your eyes flicker to her's, “I have never loved anyone the way I love you.”

Her eyes soften more than they ever had before, “I love you too.”

This time you take the initiative to peck her lips. She chases your lips as you pull away. You continue giving her small pecks until you are in a fit of laughter.

Agatha smiles as she listens to your laughter, but she continues to kiss other parts of your face, eventually trailing down to your neck. The vibration of your laughter in your throat tickles against her lips.

Now it’s her head that rests in your neck. Your hands tangle into her hair, playing with the ends.

“The terrifyingly sinister witch killer is just a big ol' softy.”

She shakes her and places one more kiss on your shoulder.

“Only for you.”

#agatha harkness x reader #lowkeyerror #agatha x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness

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anlxcqrd · 1 day ago

Text

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄

sypnosis: the strongest lets you wear his blindfold and things escalated very quickly.

contains: friends to lovers? p in v, oral sex, etc.

pairings: gojo satoru/reader

warnings: mdni nsfw ahead!

a/n: took a break and now im here. sorry if it sucks cause i didn't proofread it cause im still busy :(

"Like who puts milk first? Some people are just a bunch of psychos!" He clasps both sides of his head in a dramatic way as he ranted.

"Uh huh"

"Don't give me that 'oh it's to prevent my cereal from getting soggy' shit. I can't understand them Y/N!" He whined and you put your mug down on the coffee table where his long legs where resting.

"You know what I don't understand?" You look at him and he tilts his head to the side as if to say 'what'. "How you can see through your blindfold. I get that you have the six eyes but i dont get how the seeing through shits works. Can you also see other objects?" You look at him as if he was a flat earther and he only laughs.

"That's cause im cool." He arrogantly brushed his hair back. "And only cool people can do this!" You roll your eyes knowing you're not getting a proper answer from him.

"Wanna try wearing it?" He asks you and you immediately shake your head. "No! You're gonna tire yourself out and I was just-" he cuts you off. "Look, I might say that a lot but trust me I'm not that weak and its only for fun! Its not like you're going to burn it or something."

His long fingers then trail to the top of his blindfold and pulled it down slowly. There you can see his mesmerizing azure eyes staring down at you. "Here." He hands you his blindfold.

You reluctantly take it from him and you slide it on. As expected, you can't see anything. Just right before you can take it off, a pair of lips meet yours, capturing you in a tender yet deep kiss.

"Mmh!" You push him away and took off the blindfold. You see him looking at you with a flushed face. "Y/N I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me I just-" you kiss him cutting off whatever he said. His eyes widen and immediately kisses you back.

And thats how you end up face down ass up taking in the meanest backshots you've ever received. "Fuck!" He spanked your ass hard making you squirm. His huge hands gripped your hips hard to keep you in place.

The way he was pistoning into you made you tear up from how it good it felt. You wish you can see him through the blindfold that was preventing you from seeing.

"Satoruuu" you whine as he rubbed tight circles on your clit making your legs tremble. His tip was kissing your g-spot trying his best not to hit your cervix and cause any discomfort. "Y/N" he whimpered your name, he feels like his hips had a mind of its own, moving on its own like it was a hungry beast.

As the teacher's lounge was filled with sounds of your hips hitting each other along with your moans and whimpers. He flips you on your back and kisses you again. This abyss is something you never want to escape. Your souls were colliding, fading into each other as you made love with passion.

"I'm cummin' ngh can i cum in you? Please let me cum in you." He begged desperate to release himself inside your gummy walls.

"yes please cum in me. Fill me up satoru." You nod vigorously, drunk in his touch and love. He kneaded your breasts, pulling and pinching them as he picks his pace up desperate to cum.

"Ah-yes fuck yes!" He groaned feeling his balls tighten as they hit your ass. "Don't stop, please! Fuck right there yes!!" Your eyes roll back behind the fabric as you fill his warm cum fill you up.

His trembling hands sloppily takes off the blindfold, giving you access to see again. He groped your breast and sucked the other one as he grinds into you again.

You kiss him before moving down to his still-hard cock. You kiss his tip and pre cum leaked out of him. As you start sucking him off he licks a long stripe on your cunt making you gasp and almost lose your balance. "Ah! Satoru wait- ngh!" He only pushes your head further down and fucks your mouth.

after what felt like an eternity you both reached your limits and is now cuddled up on the couch. You kiss his cheek and he holds you closer.

The silence went on for a long time until you hear the door open.

Oh shit.

#✎ᝰ.scribbles #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru #gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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the-kr8tor · 3 days ago

Text

Two Slow Dancers

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 7.2k

Synopsis: It's the very first day of your first 'real' job, with new faces and names, you find yourself fumbling over a handsome coworker. Will you survive the day?

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), a bit of loser! Hobie, The office AU, mockumentary AU, Coworkers AU, Coworker! Hobie, Reader has nicknames, one suggestive joke, CW food mentions, CW vomit mention, Fluff.

A/N: Special thanks to @pleaktale for the idea!

Navigation

The camera zooms in on your confused expression until the lenses can see every single one of your pores. The producer clears her throat, and the camera man immediately tries to fix the view. The camera lense whirrs for a second before focusing on you as you sit on an old office chair in the corner of the conference room together with the drab eggshell white painted walls and a single plastic plant placed right next to you.

All you can see are the same drab white walls with thirty year old motivational posters tacked on it. The rows of plastic chairs are lined up in front of the whiteboard where a rolling table with a small box tv sits and collects dust. You feel like you're in an uncanny side of the world where everything is all paperwork and the sound of the photocopying machine whirs in the background amidst the smell of old carpet.

This is being a full fledged adult, you thought. You're starting to hate it already.

“Is this necessary? I just got here.” You chuckle nervously, fingers fixing your collar that doesn't need to be fixed.

“Yes, we need everyone's point of view.” The muffled voice of the producer echoes in the boom mic. “And please stop fiddling with your collar, the mic will pick up the sound.”

“Sorry,” you give her a tight smile. “Um, I guess I should give you my name?” They all nod simultaneously, making you more nervous than you already are on your first day of work. Saying your name without stuttering, you mentally pat yourself on the back for your accomplishment. “I–I just started today, and I'm very excited to work here at Connor's and Jameson's.” You smile sweetly at the camera, a rough cough from someone on the crew makes your smile falter. “C–can I go now?”

A sudden deep rumble can be heard through the mic, shaking you in your seat as you hold on to the armchair. “Woah!” As quick as it came, it subsides. “I think that was an earthquake!” You say, eyes wide in panic, fingers fiddling with your collar as your nerves get to you.

“No,” the producer behind the camera sighs, “there's construction just starting next door.”

“Oh,” You wish the earth could swallow you right now. Way to embarrass yourself on your first day, and on camera too. “Right, sorry.”

The scene shifts to your new boss, Miguel, as he watches the bullpen from his office with his watchful eyes. His hands are tucked behind his back, his large frame practically blocking the sun from his window. He sees the camera crew zooming in on him, and he awkwardly straightens up, weight subtly shifting from side to side.

The camera follows his gaze, landing on Lyla, who's chewing on the cap of her pen as she chats you up while you're working quietly on your desk. She wears a cheerful yellow button up complete with the same yellow pants. You gotta admit, she wears business well.

“I'm just saying, it's eat or be eaten in this office.” The boom mic captures her voice. And the camera moves from her to the entire bullpen that's quiet except for the sound of tapping keyboards and clicking mice. “But I'm sure you'll be okay, we're just selling electric toothbrushes. It's not the end of the world of you commit one fuck up.”

You stare at the camera with a wide look before glancing at Lyla. “T–thanks for the tip.”

Lyla tilts her head with a genuine smile, “no problem, newbie. If you need any help, you know where my department is.” As you nod and glance quickly at Miguel, who's still standing still inside his office, Lyla notices your nervous demeanor. She narrows her gaze at Miguel before flipping him the bird.

“Lyla!” You whisper yell, while Miguel presumably huffs in his office and closes the blinds right after.

“What? It's just office banter!” She returns her gaze to you, eyes softening at your nervous glance. “Nice blouse by the way! Pink suits you.”

The scene changes and now Lyla is the one in your former seat inside the conference room. “Let's just say that I have… some information on him.” She smirks before the camera lense zooms in on the window in the background where Miguel stares heavily on Lyla’s back, his nose flaring, and mouth etched in a deep frown. Lyla feels the presence, brows pinching together before looking over her shoulder. “Hey, boss man!” She says without a care in the world (Or without a care for authority no doubt,) while she waves at him casually.

The scene cuts back to you struggling on the copy machine.

The machine keeps eating all the paper you feed it, making a strange and awful creaking sound whenever you press the button. You're sure that you did everything Lyla taught you. The stack of paper goes into the side, then the file you're going to copy is placed on the scanner. Pressing a few more buttons, it should've spat out an exact copy instead of giving you a jumbled mess of paper that looks like a demonic curse was printed on it.

“Damn it.” You curse under your breath. Eyes glancing to the side, you see the camera crew practically stalking you by the pillar. You quickly change your demeanor, back straightening up, shoulders straight but your huffing through the boom mic can still be picked up unbeknownst to you.

Yanking the half eaten paper away from the slot, you internally curse the photocopy god for giving you this trial for your first day. Looking around the bullpen, you see Lyla in Miguel's office, probably getting chewed on for what she did earlier. You definitely cannot ask her for help. Gazing at your right, your other co-workers are busy with their tasks, tip tapping away at their computers with their blank stares. Well, except for that one intern you hadn't had the pleasure of meeting, who's playing minesweeper on his computer. Amazingly, he looks like he's winning.

Hands balled into fists, you're contemplating whether or not you should start throwing punches at the machine. Lyla did tell you its temperamental, maybe a quick punch would make it think twice from giving you hell.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout squarin’ up with the xerox machine?” A sudden new voice startles you in place. His tone is smooth, confident and deep that it sends good shivers down your arms. “Sorry, thought you need some help.” he chuckles, backing away from you when he notices your shocked expression. “You new ‘ere, huh?”

“It's okay,” your nerves bust through your shaky tone. “Uh, yeah, new associate– on probation for the next six months.”

He smiles sweetly, silver lip piercing drawing your attention towards his lips which you immediately correct your gaze by staring at his brow piercing instead. It didn't help much with your nerves, he looks handsome in every angle. It's not like you're looking for an office romance, it's not illegal to stare, right?

Your new acquaintance has his wicks in a ponytail, silver charms clinking against each other whenever he moves his head. He wears a dark button up, untucked and without a necktie. You find him unbelievably charming.

“‘m sure you'll get it. Once you get ol’ Jerry ‘ere to work for you.” He pats the machine as it whirs and eats another piece of paper. His lithe hand grabs your attention, silver rings dotted along it like he's about to play on stage.

You swallow thickly, avoiding staring too long. “J–Jerry?”

“Yeah, we named it after this bloke who worked ‘ere.”

“That's kind of nice.”

“He's not with us anymore.”

“Oh–” you blink, lips already forming apologies.

“He’s retired, we got him a cake and everythin’” you can see that he's trying to tamp down a laugh by how his Adam's apple bops up and down and from how he subtly bites his lip piercing. “Did you think—?”

“No.” You immediately say. He gives you a teasing look, brilliant hazel eyes that are a beautiful mix of brown and green gazes at you playfully. “T–That’s what I thought too.”

“Right,” he says, unconvinced. “My offer of help still stands. But after this you have to tame the bloody beast on your own.”

You nod, “please, I'm starting to rationalize whether I should punch it or not.”

He gives you a genuine smile, “that could work actually. I've seen people do it a few times.”

“Really?” You say with raised brows and a hint of a hopeful smile.

“Nah.” He shakes his head with a smirk, smile widening when you frown at him with an annoyed look. With a chuckle, he reaches towards the half eaten paper stuck inside, fingers wrapping around it to pull away. “‘m Hobie, Hobie Brown. I work in the post room.” He gestures with his head towards the cart full of envelopes and small parcels. “Or what I like to call it in a fancy way, the logistics room.”

“It's nice to meet you, Hobie.” You smile at him, and Hobie smiles back as he finally rips the page away with a rough tug. The paper is suddenly released, the force almost topples him over if not for your quick reflexes. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, and you swear you felt his pulse quicken.

“You okay, Hobie?” As quick as you were, you retract your hand back to your side.

He nonchalantly clears his throat, fist gripping the paper in his palms. “Yeah, thank you…” he waits for your reply.

You give him your name, cheeks warm and palm suddenly clammy as you shift your feet from side to side to hide your bashfulness. With an inhale and your mind returning to the task at hand, you channel your bravery. “Care to teach me how to tame the beast?”

Hobie balls up the ruined paper all without leaving his eyes on you with a gentle smile. A bit unsure but definitely genuine. “Sure, I charge by the minute, by the way.” He jokes.

“Do you take lunch as payment?” You ride with his joke, hands placed inside your blazer pocket to again hide your shyness.

He grins, “I think we'll get along well, probie.”

You two have completely forgotten about the cameras. They got the whole interaction on film, complete with the lingering gazes and soft smiles you two seem to harbour.

—

“Hobie Brown.” He says while he's sitting on an office chair backwards, arms hugging the back of the chair and chin placed atop it casually. The producer eggs him on to continue with a single look. Hobie sighs, standing up swiftly before twirling the office chair away from him in one fluid and suave motion. “I work in the post room.” He crosses his arms on his chest, annoyed. “I've been ‘ere for three years. Don't like it, but it helps pay the bills, innit?”

“Can you tour us around the mailroom?” The producer asks in a hushed tone but loud enough to be captured by the boom mic.

“No.” He says flatly, already turning to leave the camera crew as he wheels his mail cart out of the room wordlessly.

The camera is left to just roam all over the organized chaos that is the mailroom. Everything seems to be in place but at the same time it's not. All the envelopes are in their correct spots on the large shelf on the far end of the wall, but all the boxes are shoved in a corner, all stacked up. It's a miracle that it's still standing without toppling over.

The mic picks up muffled chatter out in the hallway. Hurried footsteps can be heard as the crew follows the source of the sound. The camera peeks at the doorway, tilting to get a better look of you, who seems to be chatting Hobie up with a polite smile on your face.

“Mr. O’hara said that the shipping company messed up and gave us a different sample product.” You hold the box in your arms, clearly opened but was hastily closed off with masking tape. “He asked if you could send it back?” You ask sheepishly.

Hobie's whole demeanor seems to change as the white fluorescent light shines on your bashful eyes. “Sure, I know those blokes. I can even get it shipped for free.” He opens his arms, receiving the box from you, hands briefly brushing along his own. “They rarely fuck up, what's inside?”

“Uh,” you laugh nervously, cheeks aflame. “Something that is electric but definitely not a toothbrush—” before you could warn him, he shakes the box. It sets off numerous buzzing sounds inside. Hobie's neck snaps up towards you in a flash, with a smile slowly spreading across his amused face. “Yeah…” You wince, biting at your lower lip. “They're not toothbrushes.”

“Holy shit! It's—”

“Don't say it, Hobie!” You say through your grin. “Miguel was furious!”

His loud guffaw echoes down the hallway, making the boom mic pick up the sound, almost shattering the mic itself. Earning a high pitched sound emanate from it briefly. The poor sound tech had to take off his earphones lest he breaks his eardrums.

Hobie laughs harder. “I bet. I'd pay to see him all mad like that.” Shaking the box even more, the buzzing sound makes you chuckle, hand clasping over your mouth to tamp down your giggles. He mirrors your smile, finding your laughter contagious. After you've composed yourself, worthy of being your business self, he gestures towards the mailroom with his head. “You wanna see the post room, probie? It's not as glamorous as the bullpen but it's alright.”

“As long as you don't shake or god forbid, open the box.” You playfully gesture with your index at the box in his hands.

“Only if you ask.” He jokes back, or was it flirting on his end? Clearing his throat, he sees you widen your eyes, breath hitching in your throat. “I wouldn't, don't worry.” He immediately decides to remedy the awkwardness, feeling that he might've offended you. “There's a parcel ‘ere that's dated to be delivered in ten years. Don't ask why because I don't know.”

“In ten years? Weird, who's it addressed to?” You follow Hobie despite your thudding heart. He makes you feel like you're back in school again with all the crushes and lingering gazes across the classroom. Maybe it's not so bad to befriend someone else here that isn't Layla.

The camera crew immediately runs to the other end of the hallway to continue secretly filming the two of you, before you or Hobie could see them. Hobie opens the door for you, balancing his hold on the box and on the door.

“Yeah, it has your name on it.” You gasp right next to him. He smirks, eyes glancing at you teasingly. “Just fuckin' with you, probie.”

“I have a name, y’know.” You roll your eyes, seeing something move in your peripheral.

“You're probie until the lunch club says so.”

“The lunch club?” You ask, head tilting at the peeping camera from the corner of the hallway.

“You'll see,” Hobie shakes the box again to get your attention.

“You—! I told you not to shake it again!” Your giggles get muffled as you close the door behind you with a creak. The noise is followed by Hobie enthusiastically giving you a tour of the mailroom to the whole documentary crew’s amusement, and half disappointment.

—

You finally make it to lunch without a hitch. Without any more raunchy parcels and without you tripping over your own heels on the carpeted floors.

The camera follows right behind you, giving you enough space after you complained to Lyla in the HR department at how they've been too close to you, and hindering your work. (They haven't, you just find them annoying.) Hobie seems to have the same idea as you when he went to her office to tell them off too. According to him, ‘If I see another camera up in my face, I'll break their dodgy lenses.’ He said it with such gravitas that the documentary crew backed away immediately with their tails tucked in between their legs.

You grasp your lunch box in your hands, eyes roaming around the small break room with a few tables and chairs all grouped up. The vending machines on the side of the room whirr, its lights flickering in and out that has you suddenly creeped out. You blame Hobie for telling you a story about a night janitor that cleans the whole building even without its head attached to his neck.

Goosebumps appear on your arms when you remember how eerily he told it. Still, you were properly entertained before you had to go back to work, back to your drab computer with its boring programs and even more boring paperwork. Hobie makes it all bearable. You smile at the thought. Good thing that you're the only person in the breakroom, or your new coworkers would think that you're losing it. Then you remember the camera zeroing in on your face, you want to throw your lunch at them. If only it didn't cause you your job.

With a sigh, you claim the table nearest towards the vending machine. Sitting down your packed lunch, a bottle of your favourite iced tea grabs your attention inside the vending machine, begging to be let out of its glass confines.

Rummaging through your blazer, you could only find a stick of gum, and a button that magically flew out of your sleeve when you moved to grab a stapler earlier. You sigh, longingly staring at the sweetened tea. You bet that it'll help make your miserable first day a bit better. But alas, you're too lazy to go back to your desk to quickly grab your wallet.

Suddenly, an arm appears next to you, you almost screamed at the appearance if not for the recognizable rings around his fingers.

“Hobie, you scared me!” You clutch your imaginary pearls. “I thought you were—”

“The night janitor?” He smirks teasingly. You find him adorably infuriating. “D’you still need that change?” Glancing at his hand that's clutching the coin, it’s ready to be placed inside the coin slot, just waiting for your cue.

The camera crew backs away further into the corner, having the perfect view of the entire room and your interaction.

“I—” you wince when you pat down your other pocket, cursing at how your pencil skirt doesn't even have pockets. “— will you, please?” Great, your embarrassment will transcend through TV screens from now on.

Hobie smiles softly, coin clinking inside the machine as it falls. “Choose your poison, probie.”

Without a doubt, you press the number that correlates to your favourite drink. “Thanks, Hobie. I'll pay you back later. I'm supposed to be buying you lunch, remember?” You crouch down as the bottle tumbles down with a thud, falling right into your waiting hand. It's cold to the touch, the bee mascot on the packaging greets you with a cartoonish smile.

“Don't mind it, I have my own lunch. Save the IOU for another day.” he says as he sits down, setting his own lunch adjacent to yours. “Take it as a welcome gift.”

You turn around to face him, having a hard time opening the bottle cap. “And here I thought you wanted me out of here.”

Hobie scoffs without malice laced in it. The camera lense zooms in on his gentle smile. “Please, I don't give a tour to anyone in my post room just like that.” He gestures for the bottle wordlessly, fingers opening and closing in a come hither motion.

“I thought you brought all the new girls in there.” Teasing, you sit down in front of him, handing him your drink which he opens for you without a struggle. “Thanks.” He hands it back, warm fingers unintentionally brushing along your own.

“Not all the new girls.” He shrugs. “Jus’ the ones with the weak wrists.”

“Hey!” You chuckle, “rude. The cap was screwed in too tightly.”

“Sure, probie.” He opens his lunchbox, the smell of savoury meat and sautéed vegetables makes your hastily made sandwich look like it came from a microwavable meal.

“Wow.” You blink at the perfectly cooked rice. “Is that turmeric in the rice?”

Puffing up his chest, he smugly smiles. “Yeah, Beef broccoli with oyster sauce.”

“Damn,” you look down at your regular white bread egg sandwich. “Wanna switch?”

He chuckles, “no.” He makes sure to enunciate.

“Worth a try.” You mirror his smile. “Did your girlfriend or partner make it?”

“Nope, no girlfriend. Made it myself.” He says the last sentence proudly.

No girlfriend, huh? “It's pretty amazing that you have time to prep meals.” You take a bite of your abysmal lunch.

“That's what gets you when you don't have a partner.” Hobie scoops out a decent amount of his meal with his spoon, “your sandwich is…”

“Shit, I know.”

Chuckling, Hobie looks at you through his shining hazel eyes. “I was gonna say alright, but that works too.”

You take a sip of your iced tea, letting the cool drink douse your obvious shyness and flustered state whenever you converse with him. Lyla's words during the orientation keep repeating in your head, ‘no office romance,’ she said. ‘It's too complicated,’ she said. Is it though?

“So what's the lunch club? Shouldn't they be meeting up right about now?” Just as you said it, the doors swing open, revealing three college aged kids in their business outfits.

“Sorry we're late. Pav here needed to finish something.”

“Don't blame me,” The one with the flowy hair and dark brown suit scrunches his nose. “You're the one who's playing minesweeper all day, Miles.”

“The fields aren't getting cleared all by themselves, y'know?”

The only girl in the group sighs and rolls her blue eyes, pausing in the doorway once she sees you sitting with Hobie. “Well, who do we have here?” Her voice puts a stop to the arguing.

“Meet the new girl. Gwen, meet Y/N. Y/N, meet Gwen.” Hobie gestures over to the blond then to you.

“Hi, it's a pleasure.” You say whilst quickly chewing your food to appear somewhat presentable when they caught you mid chew.

“Oho, so she's the one you've been yapping about, Hobie.” Gwen crosses the small distance, palm patting Hobie on his shoulder. “Now it's really nice to meet you.”

“You talk about me?” You tilt your head, eyes narrowed playfully.

“He will not shut up, trust me.” Pav waves towards you in greeting. “I'm Pavitr by the way! I wish you could meet Gyatri but she's out sick.” He sighs, sinking down on the chair.

“It's nice to meet you, Pavitr.” You smile genuinely at the seemingly lovestruck Pavitr.

“Don't mind him, he just misses his girlfriend.” The one in a white button up and black lopsided necktie holds out his hand to you. “I'm Miles Morales.”

“Pleasure,” you shake his hand briefly while Hobie watches you interact with three of them. The documentary crew fades in the background, practically a fly on the wall by now that the group has gotten used to their cameras and lights. “I'm guessing this is the lunch club?”

“That's what Hobie told you?” Gwen sits down next to you, sliding drinks she got from the vending machine towards each of her friends. “We're more like the gossiping slash complaining club.”

You chuckle, “you guys are interns?”

“Unpaid interns.” They all say simultaneously in the same monotonous tone.

“It should be Illegal.” Hobie says, elbows placed on the table to address you fully.

“Not being paid for work in the guise that it's just an internship therefore the ‘pay’ is experience?” You make quotation marks with your fingers. Hobie raises an amused brow while the three share a knowing look that you can't quite decipher.

“That and interns.” Hobie shrugs with a smile, you snort at his joke, gazes lingering for a second before returning to each of your meals.

Gwen smirks and nudges Hobie's leg with her foot. The camera picks up and records their wordless conversation before she turns towards you. “If not for me then the mailroom would be a complete mess.”

“It's organized, Gwendy.”

“Well you did a shit job at organizing it.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, fuck you.”

Miles leans towards you, “Hobie's technically her boss.”

“Doesn't look like it. They argue like siblings.” You watch them with amusement, eyes crinkling in the corners. You decide to save everyone's lunch, “so… the lunch club is just you guys chatting about?”

“It’s more than that!” Pav says while he quickly swallows his lunch, “it's a way of life!”

“We sometimes meet up to play a gig at some dinghy place, or to just hangout after work.” Gwen smiles at you, hand clasped around her drink after Miles tried to switch it with his. “Wait!” Her blue eyes sparkles, “you haven't told her that you're in a band, Hobie!”

The trio gives Hobie a wry smile. Mischief glimmering in their eyes. “Yeah, Hobie, tell her about that time you played for one thousand people.” Pav nudges him with his elbow with a wink that you missed.

“You're in a band?!” Your expression brightens. “That's so cool! My roommate’s in a band, what do you play?”

Hobie throws the trio a quick glare before clearing his throat. “The guitar—”

“Just don't ask him to serenade you— Ow!” Gwen flinches in her seat, gaze narrowed at Hobie.

Your smile gets brighter, “you must be good at it then, playing for a thousand souls isn't a walk in the park.”

“Pav’s exaggeratin’, it was only a hundred or so.”

“Please,” Miles scoffs with a raised eyebrow. “It was definitely more than ‘a hundred or so.’” He copies Hobie's accent imperfectly. “You should've seen him,” he points at Hobie with his thumb while animatedly talking and clearly gassing him up. “He was basically Freddie Mercury up there— Ow, what?!” He stares at Hobie as if his looks could burn a hole through his head.

“He has a show next week—” Pav suddenly exclaims. “don't you dare, Hobie!” He points accusingly at Hobie. A moment passes while the two have a stare off. Meanwhile, the camera zooms in under the table where Hobie's foot is threatening to kick at Pav's leg.

Hobie sighs, blinking away his annoyance, (and putting his foot down) “it's in the white horse pub, if you're free next weekend.”

“Drinks are on Hobie—!” Gwen quickly says before twisting in her seat, effectively dodging Hobie's attack. “You should go! The rest of the band will appreciate a new face in the crowd.”

“Are you guys sure?” You bite the inside of your cheek. “I don't want to impose.”

“Impose away, probie.” Hobie smiles at you, dimples in full display. “‘sides, the pub’s fish and chips are unmatched.” His eyes sparkle under the fluorescent light of the vending machines.

You nod bashfully. “Sure. You had me at fish and chips.”

The trio share a knowing look before side eyeing the camera simultaneously with the same expression while you and Hobie gaze at each other with slight trepidation.

—

Before your first day could end, Miguel O’Hara calls everyone in the conference room for a quick meeting. You highly doubt that it's a quick meeting though since there's only thirty minutes before the day could officially end. Couldn't he just email it instead? Or maybe this is about *that package. If it is, you don't want to go.

With a huff and a quick but tired look at the camera, you make your way towards the conference room. As you enter, Miguel stands at front, muscular arms crossed over his chest, eyes scanning the room.

You avoid his stare, finding that your new boss scares you just a tiny bit with his air of authority around him.

Leather shoes and heels shuffle on the floor as each employee finds their place on their seat. You find the farthest chair to sit on in hopes of staying invisible. The plastic chair squeaks as you sit, cringing at the sound, knowing that the mic probably picked it up. You're starting to hate this documentary crew following your every move. Who would even find an electric toothbrush company entertaining to watch? Moreso to film its day to day operations? It's a complete mystery to you.

The room slowly fills up with you sitting at the back, your fists bunch up at your skirt with your nerves bothering you as Miguel scans his brown eyes around the room. The man sitting in front of you twists in his seat, a smile etched on his face.

“You're the new kid, huh?” You nod at him sheepishly as he reaches for you in greeting. “I'm Peter B. Welcome to the shit show.”

“Nice to meet you?” You shake his hand despite what he said.

The woman next to him sighs audibly, curls bouncing as she looks over her shoulder over to Peter. “Don't depress the poor kid on her first day, Peter.” With a polite smile, she addresses you. “I'm Jessica, don't listen to him, he's nihilistic. And likes to scare the newbies.”

“Well, I couldn't do it to Harry, might as well do it to— what's your name again?” Peter raises a brow at you.

“I haven't given it to you yet.” Chuckling nervously, you give him your name, fists unfurling around your skirt as you find them weirdly comforting. Like your favourite aunt and uncle you only get to see during the holidays.

“And I'm that Harry.” Someone suddenly speaks on your right. You almost jump in place if not for his gentle and unassuming smile. “I was hired a month before you.”

You take his waiting hand and shake it politely, finding his hand warm and friendly. “Y/N. Got any advice?”

Harry chuckles, a strand of auburn hair falling over his eye which he quickly brushes away casually. “My advice?” You nod, “go with the flow, and don't take it too seriously. The world won't catch fire if you accidentally mess up your documents. Worst case is that someone won't be able to brush their teeth for a few days.”

“Thanks.” You utter with a chuckle.

“No problem, oh, and uh, stay away from the bathroom on the second floor.”

You blink, curiosity written all over your face. “Why? Did someone die there?” You whisper the last sentence.

Harry leans closer, whispering back, pausing for suspense as you wait with trepidation. “...No, the other workers in the building just like to take a dump in there.” With every word, his smile grows. “Why would you think someone died there?” He says teasingly.

Just as you laugh, Hobie finally enters the room with the trio in tow. Miguel gives them a sour look for being late. You glance at him, “I think someone gave me that idea.”

Harry shakes his head with a smile, leaning away as Hobie sits down on your left. Harry gives him a polite nod before glancing softly at you and returning his attention to the front of the room. The camera zeroes in on Hobie's colder gaze at the man right next to you.

“What'd I miss?” He crosses his leg over the other casually, foot nudging you gently.

“Not much, just a few introductions—” Miguel's voice suddenly calling your name interrupts you. You feel like a student again when a teacher scolds you for talking in class. “Yes— sorry?” You stand up lightning quick, hands sweaty and stomach plummeting down.

“I was going to ask if you want to introduce yourself.” Miguel blinks at you, suddenly, you feel the room shrinking and with everyone's eyes on your trembling form.

You want to run and hide somewhere. Maybe not in the second floor bathroom.

“Uh, yeah, s–sure.” You curse yourself internally for fumbling over your own words. Saying your name, your throat feels like it's about to close on you. Someone coughs within the crowd, you feel faint. Hobie notices, the back of his hand brushes atop yours. You look down at the source, and he nods and smiles at you, encouraging you gently. “And I— I'm excited to work with all of you.”

Miguel nods, satisfied, giving you a glance as he tells you to sit back down. You can see Lyla give you a thumbs up from her seat up front.

“Nice job,” Hobie whispers to you, shoulder nudging your own. You inhale deeply whilst the camera lens focuses on you and Hobie. Miguel's words drones on, fading in the background. “Oi,” he says gently, “just breathe, yeah? It's over, you did brilliantly.”

“I think I'm gonna vomit.” You huff, trying to inhale and exhale out your bundle of nerves. “I almost fucked that up.”

“But you didn't.” Smiling, he taps your hand with his pinky. “Keep breathin’ for me. Don't want you gettin' sick all over the floors. What would the night janitor think about you now.”

You clasp a hand over your mouth to quiet down your chuckles. “Thank you, Hobie. I'm sorry that you have to keep saving me.”

Your whispered words make him grin, hiding how his cheeks grow warmer atop his shoulder. “No problem, it's part of my job description—”

“Hobie Brown!” Miguel's voice echoes from the front towards the back of the room, you flinch at the sound. “What do you do during an earthquake?”

Hobie's brows pinch together in confusion. “Why?”

Miguel rubs at the skin in between his eyes. Cameras flicking over to him and over to Hobie, who's grinning mischievously. The trio, except for Gwen, mirrors his playful grin.

“Dios mio, it's because we've been talking about an earthquake drill for the past five minutes.” You can tell that Miguel’s holding back from swearing.

“Ah, that.” Hobie smirks, feigning confusion. You swear he was actually listening to Miguel while he was talking to you. “Get on the floor and roll over?”

You almost laughed, Pav does, which was immediately extinguished by Miguel's stern stare.

“No, that's for when there's a fire.” Miguel gestures towards Harry right next to you. “Osborne.”

“Duck, cover and hold.” He shrugs, glancing at you, or was he staring over you and towards Hobie instead?

“Good,” Miguel breathes out a sigh, “the company wants us to practice what to do in the event of an earthquake.”

Hobie snickers in place. While Miles raises a defiant hand. “But there hasn't been an earthquake in New York since 1884.”

Miguel pauses like he's also thinking on why the company would instruct him that. “They just want to cover all the bases.” He says confidently, you admire at how fast he came up with that. “Lyla here will show you how—”

The floor suddenly shakes, and you grip at the nearest thing near you, which is coincidentally, Hobie's hand.

“Earthquake!” Lyla yells atop her lungs, already running out of the room in haste, leaving everyone to fend for themselves. Everyone follows right behind her, panic settling in everyone.

Hobie glances at you, with a playful wink, he launches off his chair, hand clutching at your wrist gently. You follow a half second later, heels clicking against the floor as you try to keep up with his long strides.

“Wait! It's just the—” Miguel gets bumped by Peter, stumbling briefly before catching himself. “Lyla! It's just the construction next door!” Still, everyone sprints off, leaving him alone in the room.

With everyone either in a panic or just following the crowd without an ounce of haste, Hobie seems to be having the time of his life. Cackling above Lyla's high pitched screams whilst he holds onto your wrist.

“C’mon, probie! Don't want the buildin’ to fall on you now!” He says while running with measured steps on the stairs of the fire exit. You're sure that running out of a building during an earthquake isn't wise, but the shake wasn't technically an earthquake.

Your panic is replaced with something lighter, smiling as he holds onto you. “Do you know it's just the—?” Foot stumbling over the other whilst you two run down the stairs, he immediately twists around when he feels that you've become suddenly weightless right behind him. “Shit!”

“Got you!” Hobie's arms catch you mid air as you instinctively yelp and grab a hold of him. His back hits the wall in a groan, eyes briefly closing from the sudden ache. “You alright?”

“Me?! Are you okay?!” You actually panic now, scanning him for injuries, head craning to look at the back of his head. Thankfully, you don't find any injuries. “Oh thank fuck.” Thumping your head on his shoulder, he chuckles as his hands hovers above your back.

The rush of footsteps subside, and you two are left alone on the staircase. His shallow breaths echo while you lean away, but still near enough to see his dimples and how flustered you look in his gorgeous eyes.

“Sorry for draggin’ you around, love.” The new nickname has your head craning up to look at him at lightning speed. “Thought you could keep up.”

You two don't notice the lone cameraman atop the stairs, watching the scene unfold, all the while having a front row seat.

Your palms are on his chest, lips slightly agape, eyes gazing into his hazel eyes. “I did, you're not the one wearing heels, Hobie.”

“There you go, fight back, love.” His voice warms your chest as he smiles at you and only you.

Heart beating rapidly, you hear footsteps from behind, and you immediately unlatch yourself from Hobie. His warmth is left etched on your form, eyes glancing shyly at him, finding that he's already staring at you with the same softness.

“Good, you're still here.” Miguel huffs from the top of the stairs, “get the others back up here.”

The scene shifts to Miguel sitting alone in his office, looking disgruntled and tired. “I want to quit.” He says in a flat tone.

—

It's finally time to go home. You close your computer and grab your things, waving goodbye to Lyla, who's staying behind to work on paperwork. You guess that's her punishment for setting off panic in the whole office.

Mind recounting your whole day, you enter the elevator on auto pilot. The elevator door starts to close, but a hand reaches in between the closing doors, effectively opening it.

Hobie's expression brightens when he sees you.

“Hi, Hobie.” You smile, holding the door for him to give him time to enter.

“Love.” He tips his head to you, joining you in the elevator. He puts on his leather jacket filled with shiny spikes and buttons all around it, atop his button up, making him look like a tough businessman of sorts. “Headin’ home?”

“Yep,” you pop the letter ‘p’ whilst trying your best not to ogle him. “My roommate’s picking me up, we're gonna go celebrate with a couple pints of ice cream.”

“Cute.” He mumbles, quickly clearing his throat right after.

“Huh?” You glance at him, heart thudding, and hands clammy around your bag.

“I said that it's adorable, celebratin’ your first day.”

“You think it's childish?” Your brows pinch together.

“Didn't say that,” he backtracks, “I think it's nice to celebrate it.” You hum in reply. “I didn't mean—” Side eyeing him, you tamp down your laughter by biting down on your lip. He catches on immediately. Shaking his head with a fond smile, Hobie leans on the elevator wall, hands casually shoved in his pockets. “Cheeky.”

“Learned from the best.” You shuffle on your feet to hide your shyness. “What happened to the camera crew?”

“They went home, they have regular hours too y’know. Why, you miss ‘em?”

“God, no.” The doors open with a ding as Hobie chuckles at your reply. You exit the elevator, shoulders aching from how much you've been sitting down today.

“Before I forget.” Stepping off, he opens the glass door for you, propping it open with his body as he rummages through his pockets. You wait for him patiently, watching as he pats all his pockets. “‘ere.” Handing you a piece of paper, he waits for you to read it.

“Is this?” Reading the contents written in his handwriting, complete with a little doodle of the iced tea you had for lunch. Your eyes soften under the orange sunset.

“The recipe for my beef broccoli I had for lunch.” He shrugs, hand scratching at the back of his head as he stares anywhere that isn't your shining eyes. “It's easier than you think it is. It only took me about 30 minutes to cook because I chopped everythin’ up and prepped it the night before. I stopped eatin’ at shitty fast food places when I learned to do it myself.” He rambles on nervously, hiding his sweet gesture with numerous explanations.

You pat his arm before pocketing the recipe for safekeeping. “Thank you, Hobie. I'll make sure to make extra for you.”

The corner of his lips tug up into a gentle smile. “Make sure you give me an extra serving of beef then, love.”

You nod, heart beating loudly against your chest. “Does this mean I'm part of the lunch club now?”

“‘Course.” He says it like it's the most obvious thing ever. “The council has approved your membership. That includes the rest of my band mates.”

“And here I thought the council only consisted of you and a trio of teenagers.” You take a jab at him in an effort to tease him.

“Fuckin' cheeky, you're hangin’ ‘round me too much—”

A familiar weight suddenly falls on your shoulders. “Who's this tall drink of—”

“MJ!” You immediately clamp her mouth shut with your hand to save yourself the embarrassment. “This is Hobie, my coworker.”

Hobie's brows furrow, the cogs in his head turn at the sight of the red haired. “I think I know you from somewhere.”

Mj moves your hand away before answering. “Wait, I think I know you too!”

Recognition flits over their faces, eyes widening. “You're in that band!” They say at the same time while pointing at eachother.

MJ leaves your side, and Hobie fist bumps her hand in greeting. You're standing in between them so you back away a little to give them space. You smile at their interaction, it's such a small world that they actually know each other. You're happy that your best friend is acquainted with your new friend.

“You're in ‘Mary Janes,’ right?” Hobie's smile grows bigger.

“Bitch, I am the Mary Jane!” She gestures in a ‘here I am’ pose, continuing to chat him up.

“Shit, I like your music, mate.”

“Dude, yours absolutely fucks hard!” Mj jumps on the balls of her feet excitedly. “I saw you guys play last month, the crowd was wild!”

“We have a gig next week at the white horse, wanna come with?”

“Fuck yeah, my guy!”

As they talk, you blend into the background. Your mouth opens to try to get a word in, but their enthusiastic words plow over your own. Your smile falters as they slowly forget about you standing on the side. So you wait, and wait like a kid waiting for their parent to stop talking to someone they bumped into at the grocery store.

Your first day wasn't so bad, right?

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dorabellingham · 11 hours ago

Text

Mini Bellingham

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when after fans suspect, you actually find out you're pregnant

may contain spelling and translation errors!

A few weeks after the last wave of rumors that Jude Bellingham was going to be a father, you realized that something was really different. It wasn't just the slight swelling in your shirt, nor the symptoms that you attributed to the fast pace of travel and the crazy routine in Madrid. After a few days of feeling more tired than usual and having some morning sickness, you decided to put the doubt to rest once and for all.

The next morning, you took a pregnancy test from the bathroom, and a few minutes later, the two little lines appeared on the screen, confirming what you didn't even know you were expecting: you were pregnant. The emotion was intense and immediate. You laughed to yourself, tears welling up in surprise, and you stood there, absorbing the feeling of now having a precious and charming secret to share with Jude.

You knew he needed a surprise to match. After all, if the love of your life was going to find out he was going to be a father, it had to be in the most special way possible. You quickly planned a gesture that was symbolic and at the same time very much connected to the dream you both shared. In the following days, you sneaked out to organize everything: a mini-uniform of the English national team with the number ten and the name Bellingham on the back. You thought of every detail and, to make the surprise complete, you put together a kit with the uniform, the pregnancy test and a handwritten letter.

On the weekend, Jude arrived home after a hard training session, without thinking about anything. He was hungry and just wanted to rest. You smiled when you saw him come in distracted, already taking off his boots and adjusting his shirt. As soon as he sat down on the sofa, you approached him smiling and held out a small box with a red bow, which he accepted, confused.

—Is this… a present?

Jude asked, arching an eyebrow with a curious expression. You bit your lip, trying to contain your excitement, and shook your head.

—Go on, open it!

You said, with a smile that you could barely contain.

The eldest Bellingham opened the box and, when he pulled off the tissue paper, he came across the small uniform of the English national team. He looked at you with a surprised expression, not fully understanding, until he saw the pregnancy test. His eyes widened and his mouth opened in a smile of complete surprise and disbelief.

—Babe…? —He could barely speak, swallowing hard. —Are you… serious?

You nodded, smiling with your eyes full of tears.

—Congratulations, daddy!

You whispered, the words almost coming out like a melody.

He laughed, a surprised laugh, his face hidden in his hands as he processed the news. Emotion took over him, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight, long hug, laughing and crying at the same time.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Jude pulled away enough to look at you, his eyes brimming with happiness.

—A mini Bellingham… I can’t believe it! I’m already the luckiest man in the world just to have you, and now… Is this real?

You laughed, wiping a tear from his face.

—It’s real. And you know what’s funny? I think even your fans were already suspicious. But now, only the two of us know.

He looked at the mini-uniform in his hands, turning it over and getting lost in the details.

—I don’t even know how to thank you for giving me the greatest gift in the world, Y/n.

He kissed the top of your head, then brought his hand to your belly, still flat, but which would soon begin to show the first signs of this new phase.

You took the letter, handing it to him.

—There’s one more thing.

He opened the envelope carefully and read, still emotional:

"Dear Jude,

Thank you for being the best partner and the love of my life. I knew I wanted you to be the father of my children from the moment I realized I would do anything to be by your side. Today, I begin a new journey by your side, and I can only imagine how much we will love this baby. Our baby.

Thank you for everything, and thank you for being you. With all my love,

Y/n."

Jude could barely contain his emotion as he finished reading the letter. He looked at you, touched, and simply said.

—I love you more than anything in this world, love. More than I ever thought possible. And now... now there are three of us.

You snuggled into his arms, feeling completely at peace. From that moment on, your world was bigger, more complete, and the wait for that little Bellingham would be the sweetest of all.

#jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham x you #dorabellingham #jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x reader #football #football fanfic #real madrid #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagines #judebellingham #jb22 #jb5 x fem!reader #jb5 x reader #jb5 #football x y/n #football x reader

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blackynsupremacy · 2 days ago

Text

ARE WE STILL

FRIENDS?

pairing: smallville!clark kent x black!fem!reader

summary: as a junior at smallville high, you’re known as many things: captain of the girl’s basketball team, straight a-student, a bit of a tomboy, and the younger sister of pete ross by three minutes. as twins, you share many things, including your childhood best friend, clark kent. prom is nearing soon and you’re both dateless, so you and clark agree to arrive together as friends. after the view of a yellow dress, a slow dance, and a moment in the photo booth, you start to doubt if you’ll both leave the same way you came.

a/n: you can imagine jeremy as whoever you want.

contains: lots of words. fluff, brother’s best friend trope, reader is pete’s twin sister, reader knows, angst, mild swearing, arguing, friends to lovers, kissing/making out, hurt/comfort, love confession, clana is broken up, jealousy, betrayal.

a/n: finally another clark fic! anybody got ideas for tsay chapter 5? i want it to be action packed fr.

taglist: @afrogirl3005 @rosiestalez @paisholotus @sabrinasopposite @stereotypicalbarbie @ellethespaceunicorn @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @thabiddie23 @sheydnni @tryingtograspctrl @elitesanjisimp @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @camiesully @supaprettyg

“come on, kent! is that all you got?”

you were taunting him as he tried to guard you from making winning shot of your one v. one basketball game on kent farm. clark kent may have been six-foot-four with a strapping athletic build, but he wasn’t the captain of smallville high’s lady crows basketball team. due to your skill, leadership, and strategy, your girls have had an undefeated season so far. you continue to dribble and swiftly turn around to catch clark off guard before you jump to shoot the basketball which dove perfectly within the net. clark exasperatedly chuckles while you break down into an enthusiastic shimmy of a victory dance. your twin brother, pete ross, shook his head with a smirk after observing clark’s defeat. you both knew that for an exceptional farm boy that hailed from another planet couldn’t even school you on the court, had to mean something was off. in these playful competitions, you’ve had your fair share of wins with clark, but also definitely some losses. with a slow clap of his hands, pete approached clark to pat him on the back in playful sympathy,

“damn. it looks like you’ve lost your mojo, clark.” he quipped.

you and clark playfully roll your eyes. you sauntered to your brother and flick him in the forehead before you sassily chimed in,

“boy, shut up! you do realize that even clark can lose to me, right?”

“hey—ow! i’m just saying. clark, could’ve super sped around you and easily taken that shot.” he yelped in pain. clark chuckled before contributing to the conversation,

“first of all, pete, that would be cheating. second, my focus has been everywhere with prom coming up this weekend. you’re still going with me, aren’t you, pete?”

clark stretched his arms and you didn’t miss the slight flex of the bulging biceps he possessed. you always thought he was attractive, smart, and overall the perfect candidate for a boyfriend, but there was already so many complications entailed in that. first, there was the principle that he was your friend and your brother’s best friend. you basically grew up together, so you always thought lines like that should never be crossed no matter how much your heart desired for him at times. second, there was lana lang, clark’s first love. lana and clark’s relationship was complicated as well. one minute they’re together in perfect loving bliss, then the next, it’s back to being friends. this time, they were back to friend zone for a long while. lana was a friend of yours along with chloe. it was odd being tight with girls you knew had feelings for the same guy as you, but somehow, you try not to let that cause a rift between you. plus, you’re starting to develop a new crush on this guy named, jeremy ford. he was a senior and the captain of the boy’s basketball team. you’ve had opportunities where you would practice with him one on one after school and hang out at the talon occasionally to share strategies to help out your teams. he was handsome, athletic, funny, popular, and a scholar, so you’ve figured that he would be perfect as your date to the prom. when you get the chance this week, you were finally going to ask him. lastly, there was the fact that you knew clark’s secret along with your brother.

you’ve never forgotten that shift in your friendship with clark after finding that ship in his shed. it all made sense on how he was able to get to places so fast and subdue the people who were powered by those damned green rocks. pete already had to deal with clark having the attention of chloe and him being friends with their long-time family enemy, lex luthor. it was such a shock to you, but unlike those others who had powers and abused them, you knew that clark only wanted to use his abilities for good. to clark’s relief, you were quicker to forgive and swear to secrecy than your brother who eventually came around.

“thanks, y/n. i knew i could count on you to understand.” clark said when you visited him in loft the night after finding out. “at least you can consider yourself the first girl to know—besides my mom, of course!” he’d joke and for some reason that made you feel special.

now, your bond was stronger as you had to show that he was still the boy you called a good friend whose ass you’d occasionally kick in some hoops, but another part of you knew that things could be riskier than before with all of the bizarre occurrences of smallville.

“about that—” pete hesitantly stated, rubbing the back of his neck. “teresa campbell asked me last week, man. i know that ever since you and lana split, we’d make it a stag night, but we can all still go as a group. as far as i know, it could be me, you, teresa, and y/n.” he explained cringing a bit at the look of slight disappointment on clark’s face. you were a bit peeved that pete had sideswiped clark like that and that he assumed you were dateless. well, you were, but just because you were twins didn’t mean he fully knew you and your plans.

“it’s no worries, man. we can all still have a great time. right, y/n?” clark inquired, shifting his blue eyes on figure and he bounced the basketball in your direction.

“yeah, but, whose to say i didn’t already have a date, pete? we may be twins, but i don’t have to tell you everything.” you rebutted with a sharp glare towards your brother, catching the ball and placing it on your hip. pete threw his hands up in surrender,

“now, hold up, n/n. the last time i checked you never mentioned him, okay? look, i’m sorry for assuming. who’d you have in mind?”

your bashfully shift your eyes between the two awaiting males before you answer,

“uh,— jeremy ford.”

you were a bit shocked as there was a pause of silence. like there was something you didn’t know. you sighed ready for whatever was about to come,

“what is it now?”

clark held onto your shoulders and turned you to face him to deliver the news in the most gentle, but direct manner possible.

“y/n, lana is going to prom with jeremy.”

you stood there in silence, trying to register the words that were spoken to you. maybe this was sick prank the guys were playing on you to hurt your already bruised ego.

“what? psh, no way. lana would’ve told me.” you deny, dismissing what you thought was a ludacris claim.

pete shook his head and crossed his arms before serving the explanation of the knowledge. given the fact they lived together, lana had told chloe that jeremy had been hanging around late at the talon after you’d leave. eventually, he and lana got to know each other and before they knew it, lana agreed to jeremy’s proposal of prom. then chloe passed the news on to clark and pete. as an aspiring journalist, chloe was going to get it straight from a reliable source, so it all had to be true.

chloe and lana knew for a fact that you had a crush on him and they’d tease you to just go for it, but you’d always dismiss them with the excuse of focusing on your studies to achieve a full-ride athletic scholarship. plus, you’ve never really had that much dating experience to begin with, so it was all a bit of a mess. pete and clark could see the dark cloud of hurt loom over your face. there was a stabbing, tingling pain within your gut. you thought that you and jeremy would be the perfect match. you both shared the same goals and interests, how could you have missed the signs of lost chances? what else were you expecting? lana had already dated clark, but no human nor alien had control over their feelings. it would’ve hurt a little less if lana gave you a head’s up. possibly she was afraid of how you would’ve react or affected your friendship. you never wanted to be the type of girl to end friendships over a crush anyway.

“n/n, say something. are you oka—” clark began to question, but you sharply cut him off.

“i’m fine, clark. lana and jeremy can do what they want, it’s not like he was my boyfriend or anything. what about you? lana is your ex.” clark watched in silence as you tried to play it off so cool, but it didn’t take his x-ray vision to see that you were crushed on the inside. he believed you didn’t deserve this at all. you’ve always been a great friend to him and lana. sometimes, you’d give him advice or a listening ear whenever there was a conflict weighing on him. you were the type of person that gave their all. you gave your all in your sport, teammates, academics, family, and friends. who was giving something back to you?

without another word, you looked at your watch and turned to your brother,

“it’s about time we head home, pete. mom will be calling if we don’t make it in time for dinner.— see you at school, clark?” you bid him a goodbye with a tight lipped smile and a side hug before placing the basketball back in his arms. you cross your arms and make your way into the passenger seat of pete’s car. the boys give each other a silent knowing glance and a casual dap of farewell before pete follows suit to drive you both back home. during dinner, your parents, abigail and bill ross, noticed that you weren’t your usual talkative self due to your obvious lack of appetite and dry responses to their questions about your day. when your mother mentioned the prom, you promptly asked to be excused to your bedroom, so that you could “study”. you wrapped up your plate, placed it in the fridge, and took your leave. once in your room, you didn’t waste time in plopping yourself into your bed. you bury your face into your pillow to muffle your sobs of agony. romance looked so good in the movies you’ve watched, but why did it have to hurt so bad in reality?

you lay on your side, facing the large, purple stuffed bear that sat on your other pillow. you sat up and smiled at it fondly. you picked it up and gave it a tight squeeze. clark had won it for you at the smallville harvest festival during your freshman year. it was one of those carnival games where you had to get three basketball shots in a row. you were just a rookie on the team and you were struggling because you wanted that bear so badly. clark happened to be there to watch the whole thing and like a superboy, he swooped in and made those three shots. there was a jovial glint within his baby blue eyes as he observed you spinning with the bear in your arms like a little child. you were so happy that you thought you could kiss him that day. clark simply saw you in a jam and was kind enough to help. that was when you started developing feelings. even though he was your brother’s best friend, you’d grown to see him as a prince charming of sorts. he had his flaws, but he always found a way to make it up somehow. your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. it was his voice.

“there’s that smile i like to see.” you quickly wiped away your tears and whipped your head in his direction. there was clark kent, casually leaning against your door frame

“clark! uh, hey. what are you doing here? look, if you need to see pete, i think he’s in the den playing that game—” you try to explain, but he interrupted as he took his body away from the door and approached closer to your bed.

“actually, i came by to see you, y/n. may i?” you nod, acknowledging his request to sit on your bed. you nod, scooting over to make room and he proceeds to sit at your side. you gaze at his side profile. his perfectly fine nose, sculpted jawline, and who could miss the subtle pout in his naturally pink lips. now, his eyes met yours. the melanated skin of your cheeks begin to heat up the longer he held eye contact. there was an air of silence in the room. you were both deciding who should be the first to speak amidst this high school prom drama. clark then glanced at the stuffed bear in your arms, he tried not to blush as he was surprised that you kept it all of these years. he noticed how you held onto it with such a tight grip as if someone were to take it away at any moment. how wholesome he found that to be. a lopsided smile played on his lips as he spoke,

“you still kept that bear after all these years?”

you sniffled with a bashful chuckle,

“yeah, it seems so embarrassing. i’m pushing eighteen, but it’s my favorite thing—well, besides my backstreet boys t-shirt.” you both fill the room with soft laughter, enjoying each other’s presence.

“no, no. not embarrassing. it’s humiliating, actually—hey, ahaha!” clark jokes in which that earns him a couple whacks in the head from your pillow. your stomach cramps as you dissolve into laughter again,

“god, you’re such an ass! you just love to ruin the moment.” you giggle, trying to catch your breath. you place the pillow to its original spot. clark flashes his pearly canines and leans back onto your bed.

“as long as i get to see you cry tears of joy instead of sadness, i’d gladly do it again.” he responds, gingerly reaching a hand towards your face to swipe a loose tear with his thumb. your cheeks heat up again as your stomach flips from his touch.

“i know today wasn’t exactly the greatest, but it’s good to hear you laugh, y/n.”

your own lopsided grin graces your features before you shift your gaze to the bear,

“i appreciate it, clark. you’re always swooping in to save the day, whether it’d be meteor freaks or teenage heartbreak.”

there was another beat of silence. before practically speeding to the ross house, clark couldn’t erase the image of your somber expression from his mind. this was everyone’s first prom and even though clark didn’t get the chance to go with lana, he didn’t want to experience it on a sour note. now that you were down in the dumps, he definitely didn’t want you to have that same feeling. he didn’t want you to look back on such a significant event with disdain, so he came over and took his chance.

“y/n, would you go to prom with me—as my date?”

upon hearing his question, you froze for a second before peering at the farm boy beside you. you were in a tough spot, sure, but you didn’t want to be his pity date, no matter how much you liked him.

“what?! clark—i know i seemed pretty tight about the jeremy thing, but i don’t want your pity. we can just go as a group of friends with pete and teresa. just like he planned.” you protested, but clark took ahold of your hands as the expression of sincerity etched on his face.

“y/n, please, just hear me out,” he urged, caressing his thumbs along your hands. “i promise you, it’s not pity. i genuinely want to spend time with you and i want us to enjoy our first prom.” you fell silent as your gaze softened while listening to his plea, “we could make it one of the best nights of our lives, even if it’s just for a little while—besides, who better to go to prom with than the best victory dancer i know?”

yet again, he flashed his contagious smile that you’ve silently adored for years as a twinkle danced within his eyes. you pondered on this impromptu proposal. clark had a point, this was going to be your first prom, an awaited moment in most teenaged girls lives that they would look back on in the future. you wanted to have a good time regardless of the jeremy situation. plus, if you accept, you’d have a date with your longtime crush! your brother’s best friend of all people. you were going as friends of course, but you couldn’t imagine this moment with anyone else. what could possibly go wrong? a smile you couldn’t contain plays on your full lips as your brown eyes matched his gaze before you finally said,

“you know what? i’d love to clark!”

“you would? really?”

“yes. we’ll come in together as friends, let loose, and bust a move or two.” you answer already envisioning the pleasant evening ahead. “why? do you want me to take back my answer?” you jokingly quiz with an arched brow.

“oh, n-no, no! i’m actually really glad you said yes.” he protested with relief washing over his features.

“then it’s a date, kent!” you take one of your hands to rest it on his shoulder before placing a brief kiss upon his cheek before you whisper, “you got super speed, so don’t i expect you to be late.”

clark’s cheeks flushed with the red shade of excitement from your touch. he surely didn’t expect that from you, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain.

“well, in that case, i’ll pick you up at seven, ross.”

clark bids you goodnight and you could hardly sleep with the knowledge of this upcoming weekend. the very next morning at the breakfast table, your parents are ecstatic to learn the news of your plans for prom, especially your mother. you both enthusiastically converse, conjuring up ideas of a dress, shoes, accessories, makeup, and hair. she helps to make the necessary appointments for the days leading up to it. while at school, you decided to stick around to clark, pete, or fly solo rather than you usually did with chloe and lana. you would be cordial when you see them in the hallway, but before they could talk about prom, you’d find a way to promptly excuse yourself. the last thing you wanted to hear was anything about lana and jeremy. you didn’t want to hear the conversation as if they didn’t know that you know.

“i gotta go. i have a meeting with my coach.”

“can’t. i don’t wanna be late for class!”

even when jeremy tried to catch you in the hallway. you’d gave him the same energy,

“i can’t go to the talon today, jere. i have an appointment after school.”

“i think i’ll just practice solo today.”

with each passing day after school, your mother had taken you shopping to find the dress that was perfectly made for you along with getting a well deserved mani-pedi and an eyebrow wax. she would just help with hair and makeup on the day of. your mother doted on you every step of the way. you couldn’t forget how you had to ask the dress shop employee for kleenex because she was going to burst into tears when saw you in the dress you’ve chosen. you were shocked because this was abigail ross, the no nonsense county judge of smallville that fights for justice with an iron fist. you weren’t really big on dresses in general, but for this occasion with clark, you wanted him to see that you were more than pete’s twin.

the early evening of prom makes its presence known. throughout the entire day, your stomach rumbles with an immense amount of anxiety and piquancy. you burst out into a song while taking your shower, a soft muffled hum fills the bathroom when you brush your teeth. as your mother helps you to get ready, she affirms your beauty with each dab and blend of the cosmetics applied to your face. her gifted hands gingerly work through the coiled tresses of your dark hair in the desired style that you’ve seen one of your favorite singers sport in a magazine. as if it were like a cinderella-esque transformation, your final look was completed once you’ve donned your dress, jewelry, and heels. it was finally time for one of the best nights of your life.

clark stands at the front door of the ross house. he’s not sure how many times he’s been fidgeting with his black bow tie or glancing down at the freshly arranged corsage within the plastic container, but he knows one thing for a fact.

he was nervous.

he’s been looking forward to this all week. it was a casual plan set up by two friends, but why did he feel like he was going to mess everything up? were things going to change between you and him like how it did with him and lana? or him and chloe? he was psyching himself out, but he needed to swallow whatever doubt he had and just enjoy this like a somewhat normal teenager would, especially with someone he enjoyed spending time with. with a steady hand, his knuckles raise to knock on the front door to which pete answers within seconds. they perform their casual greeting with a hello and a dap.

“hey, clark! you’re right on time. i see you styling with the corsage.” pete joked to which clark chuckled as he invited clark to step in the living room.

“i’d sure hate to disappoint your sister, so thanks! it’s still cool with you that she’s my date, right?” clark questioned, a trace of timidity within his voice. when he first told pete about being your date, he’d surely thought his friend would tell him off by crossing that boundary. to clark’s surprise, pete took the news well.

“yeah, man! she’s been looking forward to this all week. besides, you’re going as friends, so it’s not anything that i’m worried about. my mom’s up there with her now, so she should be down in a few.” pete replied, standing coolly with his hands tucked in his pockets.

they compliment each other on their respective ensembles before clark’s eyes peruses the room. his sensitive ears pick up on the sound of the bustling, grating voices of the other ross brothers who had came to visit to see the twins off for their first prom. mark, mike, and sam along with your father all hurry to the living room to greet clark with more daps and hugs as if clark were their own. it seemed that every ross had made an appearance, all except for you. abigail hurriedly came down the staircase. she frantically waved her hands to signal for the men to keep their voices down as you were about to make your grand entrance. she turns to clark with an elated expression,

“clark, i’m so glad you’ve made it. she’s all done and ready.” your mother pauses, turning her head up to the staircase to call out your name.

“honey, clark’s here! let’s see you, so you don’t be late!”

after a sixty second beat of silence, the sound of your heels reverberated through the air as you descended from the staircase. every head turned in your direction. clark’s soft blue gaze didn’t dare to pull away as you reached the bottom of the steps. you were front and center. you were the belle of the ball. he stared in awe with his mouth slightly agape as you wore a lemon, satin maxi dress that accentuated the warm toned glow of your brown skin. it had a heavy hearted cut in the front while it exposed the skin of your back like a halter top. the garment complimented your figure perfectly and matched with the golden hoop earrings your mother let you borrow. the soft makeup that was applied to your features made each of them stand out. the sleek mascara, shimmering eyeshadow and the luminous pink gloss painted on your pouty lips made you look like you’ve walked out of a magazine. even though you received the warm gazes and compliments of your parents and brothers, you were still awaiting for what clark had to say. he only stood there staring at you as if he were trying to silently analyze a piece in an art museum. he looked so dashing in the sleek, noir tux that he wore. his physique had grown to be bulkier over the years, so you certainly didn’t miss the toned outline of his body. you gave him your full attention as he softly called out your name. you spectated as he deliberately approached you. his adam’s apple bobbed within his throat and he gulped, so that he didn’t fumble over what he had to say because he meant the next words that escaped from his mouth,

“you’re so beautiful.” he proclaims, to which your family coos. he easily opens the plastic container that withheld the corsage and holds his palm out for you place your wrist in. there was a certain spark that you weren’t sure that both of you felt when his fingers brushed against your skin as he slid the floral accessory on your wrist. his soft grip on your wrist lingered as you know that he can hear your heart racing within your chest, but he’d never call you out because he didn’t want to embarrass you. with the widest smile you reply with a tone of gratitude,

“thank you, clark! you look handsome as always.” his expression matches yours and he thanks you for the compliment before your mother urges you both to pose for some pictures. after some photographs and a wise talk of safety, you all bid your family goodbye. pete had to leave to go pick up teresa in his car, so it was only fair that you’d ride with clark. with your hand wrapped around clark’s bicep, he leads you to the faithful, red pickup truck that you’ve ridden in on several occasions, but now you look at it as your awaiting chariot while clark opens the passenger side for you to sit and safely buckle in.

after a brisk ride of small talk, wise cracking, and car karaoke, he pulls into the student parking lot where students who were dressed to impress were flooding towards the entrance to get into the gym. you sat there hesitantly, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. at the sound, clark turns his eyes to the glowing profile of your fretting countenance. he can already tell that you’re internally freaking out. you haven’t really talked to lana nor jeremy all week and now what were you going to do if you ran into them? you couldn’t make too many excuses to avoid them in this situation. with a gentle hand, clark reaches over to intertwine your fingers together.

“hey—look at me.” his tenor voice softly urges. you reluctantly look at the signature benevolent, blue gaze of your best friend. you hate how weak it makes you when clark holds such intense eye contact, he means business.

“you’re going to have a great time, y/n. whatever worry is going on in your head right now, forget about it just for tonight. would you do that for me?”

“that’s not fair, clark. you know i’d do anything for you.” you both dissolve into a fit of laughter. when it dies down, you squeeze onto his hand and unbuckle your seatbelt before turning to him again, “what are you waiting for, kent? you said i was gonna have a great time, so show me a great time.”

with a grin of anticipation on his lips, he briefly releases your hand to exit the drivers’ seat and open the passenger in which your hand is instantly reunited with his. you both stroll together through the entrance, down the hallway, and into the wide, dark gym that was illuminated by colorful lights, the pumped up bass of the music playing through the stereo, and the multitude of conversations between your classmates. your brown eyes darted around the area. you see there was some tables, a couple of them were filled with concessions. there was even a line forming for what seemed to be a photo booth, in which you keep a mental note for it because you want a stab at it before you go.

most of their talking is ceased when they saw you two walking arm in arm, their eyes observed you two in awe the further you both stepped in. at first, you were starting to feel awkward under the several pairs of eyes on you. were these looks also varying in curiosity? admiration? envy? they expected clark to clean up well, but as for you, they were stunned to see the tomboyish basketball captain pop out as if she was tyra banks. although he didn’t want to seem too arrogant, clark experienced a mix of satisfaction and jealousy from the attention you were getting, especially from some of the guys. especially from jeremy, who was at first enthusiastically conversing with lana until he saw what all the commotion was about: you. piqued, jeremy peered at you from across the room as you were caught off guard when clark instinctively, yet smoothly snaked an arm around your waist to bring you closer.

“it’s okay. they’re just experiencing true beauty for the first time, it’s a very common reaction.” he wittily said with a cheeky smile. with a heated face, you looked at your friend, still convincing yourself of his status in your life, that just blatantly called you beautiful again. was this real life? he even clung to you as if one of these dudes would sweep you away. you were sure, he would instantly approach lana at the mere sight of her.

within a minute or two, pete and his date, teresa, meet you guys at the side of the dance floor. you instantly hit it off with your brother’s date as you two enthusiastically compliment each other on your dresses and engage in small girl talk. clark felt lucky that he had the prettiest girl on his arm tonight. he wasn’t sure why, but that was all he could he see you as right now. not the athlete, nor his best friend’s sister. he just saw you, y/n ross, in her element. the more he carried on in casual conversation with you, the more drawn in he seemed to be by your presence. it warmed his heart to be called your friend or — so he thought. it was all coming together when the upbeat tempo of the music shifted to something that presented an opportunity for you and clark to know each other better like you haven’t before.

the iconic opening notes of the piano from des’ree’s “kissing you” began to fill the room as couples swiftly gather together to the dance floor. when you listen to the songstress’ soprano voice, the butterflies in your stomach are frolicking when you see clark’s open palm before you. you loved this song. it was from the soundtrack of romeo + juliet, film about a forbidden love, a line crossed. why were you having these thoughts? you were just friends, it would just be a dance. nothing less, nothing more.

“may i have this dance? out of the many abilities i have, two left feet isn’t one of them, so i got you.” he lightly smiles, awaiting for your answer. he attentively watches as you rub your glossed lips together, a habit of your nervousness. you turn to him. in this moment, there was no thought of lana, nor jeremy. there was no thought of heartbreak, and certainly no inhibitions. without hesitation, you grasp his hand before meeting his gaze.

“you may, just don’t step on my toes. this pedicure wasn’t cheap!” you whisper with soft laughter following from you both before he leads you to the dance floor. when you find your place, his eyes don’t leave yours when he takes your hands to rest on his broad shoulders while his rest on your waist. his thumbs barely graze against the exposed skin of your back as his feet lead you both to sway so easily to the orchestral sound of the ballad. the world outside fades, leaving only the warmth of his presence. you find solace as you feel the soft press of his hands on your waist, the comforting weight of his fingers resting just above the curve of your hips. your fingers wrap a little tighter around his neck to the point where your fingertips graze against the nape where part of his dark curls flawlessly cascade. you’re not tripping, there’s an undeniable electricity between you when your bodies absentmindedly draw closer while you continue to engage in this “platonic” dance.

“you sure you can keep up?” clark teases, a playful glint in his eyes, breaking the silence as you sway together. the light catches his pearly smile, his pristine canines illuminating from the way he looks at you—as if you were more than what you’ve always seemed to be in his life. you giggle, feeling the deliberate rhythm pull you even closer.

“boy, please. if i can break your ankles on the court, i can have you twirling like a ballerina on this dance floor, trust.” you saucily yet softly quip, your heartbeat growing as the vocal riffs of des’ree grow more passionate. with each step on the floor, clark guides you effortlessly, his movements confident yet unhurried, as if savoring every moment like it’s the last dance of the night. more like the last night of your lives.

“alright, n/n, just don’t get too dizzy on me,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you were sure he could feel the goosebumps forming on your skin. you’re so sprung in the sway of his words and the gentle pulse of the music, the outside world completely forgotten. he even takes the opportunity to release one of your hands from his shoulder to smoothly spin you around at the bridge. when you come back, your body is flush against his. you’re basically heart to heart at this point. you don’t even notice the speculating eyes that burned into you. you don’t even notice the look of realization that dawned upon clark, lana, and pete: you were obviously in love with clark kent and it wasn’t just now. it’s been brewing within your heart for years. the weight of reality seems to dissipate, leaving behind only the two of you and this connection beyond friendship that felt so real. his powder blue gaze locked on yours, an unspoken spark flickering between you.

“you know,” he begins, his voice lowers as if he just wanted you to hear what he had to say. like your own little secret, “i’d never thought that finding ourselves dancing like this would feel so—perfect. like out of a movie or something.”

you tilt your head slightly, the air between you shifted as you reply softly, “it really does, doesn’t it? plus, i love this song. it’s from one of my favorite movies.” his thumbs brush against your bare back, igniting a warmth that spreads through your absolute everything. he gulps, getting himself together for what he’s about to say next,

“between you and me—i’d either rewind to this part over and over, or i wouldn’t want the movie to end at all.”

the pale skin of clark’s face paint with a shade of crimson as you lose yourselves in each other’s eyes, the last notes of the song begin to fade. you find yourselves leaning in closer and closer. was this actually happening? in front of lana? in front of your brother? were you both going to—reality creeps back in, the echo of the final chord concludes this ethereal moment. yet, in that fleeting instant, it feels as if time has stood still—if only for a little while. as the final note lingers in the air. you pull back slightly, just enough to read the mixture of emotions in his eyes—surprise, contentment, and something deeper lurking beneath the surface. you clear your throat and join in the applause of the crowd of students when the music instantly reverts back to the vibe of something upbeat to rock with. you clark retire yourselves to sit at one of the empty tables as you were complaining about your feet hurting from the heels you’ve been wearing. being the gentleman that he was, he helps to release your ailing feet from the shoes before venturing off to use the restroom and get some refreshments from the concession table.

while you were occupied massaging your feet, you now feel the presence of two beings sit at each side of you. you just assume it’s your brother coming to rag on you.

“pete, if you’re here to rub in my face about how i shouldn’t have worn heels this high, i will literally bop you with one.” you sass, still looking down until hear familiar feminine chuckles.

“if that’s the case, then i wouldn’t dare to say a word!” you know that quick and precise wit to be none other than your friend, chloe sullivan. you froze and turn your head to see her sitting on your right with lana lang on your left. they both looked radiant in their evening gowns as if they were contestants in a beauty pageant, especially lana. your mood starts to shift once you remembered why you avoided them in the first place. you were praying to god that clark could use his kryptonian speed to rescue you from this awkward situation.

“hey, guys. long time, no see.” you neutrally greet as you place the heels back on.

“long time, no see indeed. it feels like you haven’t had the time to be around us lately—we miss you!” lana mentioned, placing a manicured hand on your knee. what gives her the right to touch you after what she’s done. you were gonna keep your cool because clark should be back any minute now.

“yeah, i’ve just been working to get this full-ride and trying to get ready for tonight. i never knew how much time that would take.” you quip, earning a chuckle from both of the girls.

“well, it looks like it all paid off— you look beautiful!” chloe says flashing her pearly smile, a twinkle within her green eyes as lana nods in agreement. although you were peeved with them, you couldn’t help, but to smile at her compliment.

“i appreciate it, guys. ya’ll look great, too.”

there was a few beats of silence, lana finally removes her hand from your knee and twiddles with her fingers. with the clearing of her throat, she addresses the elephant in the room,

“so—um, it looks like you came with clark tonight. how did your brother take that?” you shoot her a side glance and lean back within your seat, glancing at the corsage on your wrist.

“pete’s cool with it. clark and i just happened to be dateless and he asked me to go with him. we’re just here as friends, of course.” you shrug.

“oh really, now?” she further questioned.

after the slow dance, all three of you found it bit hard to believe when you brought that up. something in lana faltered when she heard that clark had asked you. there was that pressure weighing in her stomach and chest, when she swallowed it felt like there was a lump. her hands gripped onto the fabric of her dress as she was trying to keep her facial expression as normal as possible. you didn’t miss the trace of jealousy within her hazel gaze. if that’s how she wanted to do this, you were about to go in for the kill.

“mhm. sorta like how i’m cool with you going with jeremy ford.”

lana furrowed her brows in confusion at your statement.

“what’s that supposed to mean, y/n?”

“lana, let’s not play games. i’ve told you about my crush on him, you tell me that i should go for him, but then here you are, on his arm here tonight! what’s crazier is that i had to find out from clark and pete.” you comment cutting your gaze over at chloe, letting her know that she wasn’t out of the woods for her role in this disaster.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know that i had to tell you every single that happens in my life. especially in who i date. besides, he was the only one who asked me and i just went along with it because neither of you never made a move!” lana made a valid point, but the mystery was why didn’t she just give you a head’s up, so you still combatted her claim.

“lana. i don’t give a damn about who you date because obviously you didn’t when you and clark got together, knowing that chloe and i had feelings for him. it hurt us, yes, but you were decent enough to say it to our faces because our friendship mattered. i’m not even sure if that’s true now because this time, you just told chloe. i get that she’s roommate, but why? why couldn’t tell me—

“because i didn’t want you telling clark that i’ve moved on so quickly, okay? i’m not exactly over him and he didn’t ask me, so i felt that i didn’t have a choice.” the word vomit spews after she you cuts off. you all take a beat of silence before she continues,

“i’ve seen how close you two have been getting. i-i don’t know what it is, but suddenly he’s like an open book when he’s around you. even when we were together, on and off, he’d never be that way with me, so i guess i didn’t tell you because i was afraid you’d run off and tell him in a heartbeat. i-i guess i went out with jeremy and didn’t tell you because i was—”

it was now your turn to cut her off.

“jealous?”

conceding, lana silently nodded. it’s amazing how she was so quick to call clark a coward back in the past and pressure him for a truth she wasn’t sure she could even handle, but now look at her. being secretive all because of her obsession with clark exposing himself as who he truly is while they were together.

“wow, so i guess that dance really burned you up. didn’t it, lana? now you see what happens when you’re not completely honest with people who you claim to be their friend.” you sharply retort, venom in your tone.

“y/n, i’m—” she started to speak, but stopped as she did a double take to the male in question heading in your direction. speak of the devil—well, alien in your case. as if his timing weren’t perfect enough, clark had finally appeared with two cups of punch along with two decorated cupcakes. your favorite dessert.

“i hope i didn’t keep you waiting that long, y/n. there was a long line for the both bathroom and the snacks.” he chuckled as his eyes took notice of his friends, but he felt there was something that went down between you. there was a tension and the vibe wasn’t very pleasant.

“lana, chloe hey!” he cordially greets them both while handing you the refreshments. he grins as your facial expression softens in contentment at the sight of the delicacies, you thank him as you take it into your hands. he makes small talk with lana and chloe, asking them if they’re enjoying the event in which they respond with a “yes” and “mhm” as they nod. it was only a matter of time before what you were worrying about came to fruition. although you were glad at his presence, he could see that you were clearly uncomfortable with the girls sitting at your sides. clark kent guaranteed a good night for both of you, so he had to do what he had to do.

“i’d hate to intrude, but you guys mind if i sat with y/n? i believe i owe her some quality time back for being away for so long.” he requests, awaiting for the girls departure. as soon as lana and chloe heard the words, “quality time”, they instantly acknowledged that he wanted to sit with you, alone. after witnessing what happened, chloe saw it in their best interest if they did leave you and clark alone. no matter how much lana wanted to stay, she still had jeremy to entertain for the night.

“that’s no problem! we were actually just leaving.” with that, chloe stood and took lana’s arm, whisking them both to the other side of the gym before lana could say another word. clark took the seat that chloe had sat in, he peered over to see you happily, but silently indulging in the cupcake. although he didn’t want to ruin the vibe, he still had a hunch and questioned you about what happened previously in his absence.

“hey—are you okay? it looked like you wanted to get out of there.” it was sweet of him to check in on you so you just gave it to him straight.

“yeah, i’ll be fine, clark. lana and i had a fight. it was obviously about jeremy and—” you paused, gazing in his direction, “other things, but i don’t wanna talk about it now. i’m still gonna have a good night with you.” you glance over to the area where the photo-booth station is. “it looks like the line at the photo-booth is slowing down. let’s get a picture after i’m done.”

“yeah, sure! i’m up for that it’s gonna be fun.” he enthusiastically nods, agreeing to the next step.

“you gonna eat that?” you question gesturing to the cupcake that was still in his hand. you had this habit where he would have a morsel of food and you would always ask if he would finish it. no matter what, clark would always give it to you and this was no different. with a chuckle, he gave in. you didn’t notice that some icing had spread to the corner of your lip, but he did.

“hey, hold still. you got something right—” he paused, using his hand to guide your chin, so that you could be face to face. with a gentle swipe of his thumb, the icing disappears. “there.” he finishes, “don’t want anything to spoil our photo op, now would we?” you both erupt in giggles. after serving him a thank you, you both refresh with some punch and make your way to the short line of the photo booth. you two carry on in casual conversation as the first two couples go in, do their thing, and come out leaving with one strip of about five photos. it was now your turn to go in the rectangular booth. it was a bit of a squeeze. given clark’s tall stature. there was a bench, but it looked like it could only hold one person once clark sat down. you inwardly thought a “bless his heart” as his body almost took up the whole bench. still standing, you giggle when he’s about to push the “start” button and you both see a ten second countdown presented on the screen.

“clark! how are we supposed to take pictures when i can’t even sit down? now, i only have five seconds.”

he gazed at you and simply patted his leg, suggesting you’d sit there. you frantically shake your head, quickly declining his offer. you weren’t sure if you should cross that line in this tight space with the your brother’s best friend.

“i know it may look weird to you, but we literally don’t have time. i’m good with it, so c’mon!” he urges, laughing.

“clark, no!” you resist not containing your own chuckles. you’re hysterical as he grasps your wrist and pulls your body to his, so that you were sitting upon his leg. you both look at the direction of the screen count to one and then you hear the first click as it captured your giggling faces. another timer starts when you shift to a normal pose of you wrapping an arm around his shoulder and his around your waist. you both promptly smile for the second time. at the third click, he’s gazing at your profile smiling while you stick your tongue out while throwing up a peace sign. at the fourth, you look over at him to match the never ceasing eye contact which the camera captures. as the timer starts for the final photo, your head is spinning as your senses are all over the place. within these last ten seconds, you look down at his rose red lips while his arm pulls you in closer on his lap. you free hand goes on a journey to reach for his jawline where your fingers graze against the sharp edge of the bone before stopping to completely hold his face. clark leans forward, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. your awaiting lips barely ghosting over one another. both of your eyes shut as you pass the point of no return. at the final click, it captures the moment of you and clark kent, tenderly kissing each other for the first time. you’re both lost in the kiss between you lingers for a few more seconds before you open your eyes and the realization of what you’re doing dawns on you.

what the hell just happened?

as if you inherited kryptonian speed, you shoot up from your place on clark’s lap and hastily walk out of the gym towards the back exit. without wasting time, clark called out for you in protest snd was swift enough to collect your photo strip and jog in the direction of where you left. when you pushed open the door, you stood with your back against the brick wall as you let the hot tears cascade down your brown cheeks. you didn’t care if your mascara was running, what were you thinking? you loved the kiss, you loved clark. it was obvious that he was enjoying it as much as you did, but did it hold that same sentiment for him as it did for you? you cross your arms, scolding yourself for being such a hypocrite. you just told lana off for going out with a guy you liked while you, her trusted friend, kissed her ex-boyfriend. you weren’t having a good night and it all seemed so screwed up now.

you sob quietly and stop when you hear the door creak open to reveal clark. he softly calls your name and attempts to reach out to you, but you turn from him and wipe away at your face.

“clark, w-we shouldn’t have done that! we should not have done that.” you reiterate, and start to ramble after you turn to face him again, “clark, what about pete? what’s he gonna say if he finds out? it was already hard enough when you told us about your secret, but i don’t want you to lose him as a friend because of me. i don’t want to lose you because i love you and our friendship too much for that to happen.” silently, he looks down at and you pause, sobbing out your confession.

“you want to know why lana didn’t tell me about jeremy? she’s mad because of how close we’re getting. she’s mad because i know a part of you that she doesn’t, clark— and you know what? i love how close we’ve been getting. i love that you can be honest with me without holding back. i love that you can come to me about the issues with your family. i love that you use your abilities to help and protect others, including me. now i don’t blame her for getting jealous because—” you stop to take his hands within your own and stare straight into his eyes, finally mustering up the courage to say, “i love you, clark. i love you so much. alien or not, it’ll never change how i’ve felt about you. you may think it all you want, but you’re not a monster and you’re not a freak of nature. you’re you. that’s why i’ll always be there for you the best that i can, clark. whether you feel the same way or not.”

clark’s heart raced as he absorbed your words, the weight of your recent confession hanging thick in the air as you wait for an answer, any sign for how he felt. he felt a warmth spread through him, his mind trailing back through memories of late-night conversations, stolen glances, and moments filled with unspoken understanding between you two.

“i-i…don’t know what to say,” he finally uttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“then show me, clark.” you softly urged with a firmness not daring to break eye contact, “you either stay or leave. you make the call.”

deep inside him, something stirred—a realization that had been hiding deep in the shadows of his heart that’s been there all along. as he looked into your brown eyes, the intensity of your gaze opened something within. so gingerly, he stepped closer, his breath hitching as he reached out to cup your face in his hands. “y/n, i—i want to stay. i want to give you the chance that you deserve because you’ve always been there for me and you just get me. you’re the only girl i can truly be myself with and when you said that you don’t see me as a freak, it only confirmed what i’ve been feeling.”

he gulped, his gaze softening upon your figure as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat before concluding his statement,

“what if i showed you—that i believe what we did in the photo-booth wasn’t a mistake?”

“oh, clark.” you sigh out in resolve before placing your hands on his shoulders, promptly leaning in, and finally closing the distance of your lips for the second time. the first time was gentle, magical, and tender. this kiss however, had more desperation and your movements more fervent. he backed himself up against the wall, naturally guiding you closer, so your bodies were connected. he snakes his arms securely around your waist while your lips move in sync with each other. you lean your head back, sighing as he holds your jaw to sensually entrap your full bottom lip within his. if you wanted to know the feeling of being drunk, this, right here, had to be the epitome of it when you took the bold step of swirling your tongue around his. a hum vibrates deep from his chest and into your mouth when he plays along. this was it—no more doubt, no more guarding your hearts against the unknowns of what you could be together.

while you were lost in each other, lana lang had wanted to find you so, she could hopefully talk things out with you after the confrontation. she left jeremy behind and stepped out of the gym, trying seeking you amidst the crowd before going outside and around to the back of the school. ever so stealthily, her steps faltered as she caught sight of you, her friend, and clark, her ex, caught in the rapture of the most passionate of kisses. she didn’t dare to utter a word nor spoil the moment with an outburst. she didn’t want to ruin things than they already were between you. feeling a mixed pang of hurt, anger, jealousy and defeat, the last thread of hope snapped inside her. with the sting of her watering hazel eyes, she turned back to quietly retreat and find chloe, so they could immediately go home. now, she was leaving behind the remnants of what could have been between her and clark, while you and him are unaware of the heartbreak left lingering in the night.

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