#but there's always this thought in the back of my mind that yeah maybe if i exercise it will also help me in looking a certain way

[babywriter]

Josephine was at home and, feeling extra confident and sexy today, she decided to have a little photoshoot. Didn't know what it was, she just felt good. Was it just her or did her butt look great in those jeans? Looked a little puffy, actually...

"Oh, right, must be my diaper!"

She giggled and wiggled, knowing full-well her padded butt was the envy of all.

Turning around, she unzipped the front of her jeans to reveal a thick white diaper covered with stars and teddy bears. She thought it looked so cute, but since when did she wear such babyish diapers?

"Uhh, since forever, duh!" she said to herself. "That's a great outfit, but I think I look better in just a diaper."

"Oh my god, I look so cute. I'm gonna send these to Jake."

She typed away at her phone, sending the photos of her proudly diapered to the guy she started dating a couple of weeks ago. Even better, she would see him again tonight.

"Mmm. Maybe it's too much. I don't need him to cream himself before our date."

But she was giddy when she saw him text back almost immediately.

"???" he answered back. "Do you like wearing diapers?"

His answer confused her.

"Yeah, how did you not notice? I'm always diapered"

"No, you're not? I've never seen you in diapers and this is the first time you've talked about this. I need to get back to work, can we talk about this tonight?"

"Sure" she texted back, and shrugged. "That was really weird, how had Jake never noticed? Anyway, doubt he's going to mind. Hopefully, he'll change me tonight!"

Photo credit: @peekaboo-diapers

For more stories by me: https://reamstories.com/babywriter

[nsharks]

pls give us some blurb😔 I'm so sad today😔😔😔

Here is my revised preview for the next part!

B

"Hold him close to your chest, or he'll jump out of your arms. Here—like this."

Blue gently cradles the rabbit against her chest, then carefully tucks him into Ari's arms, guiding his hands to scoop under Grim's fluffy rear. She can't help but find it amusing that the boy who had taken her riding on such a large animal yesterday looks so wary holding a harmless bunny. A giggle bubbles up, and she bites her lip to keep it in.

"He's so... squirmy."

Blue keeps her hand on Grim, reassuring both the rabbit and him. "He's just ready for his breakfast. Want to help me feed him?"

"Sure."

Blue leads Ari to the hutch where the other rabbits are. She explains her morning routine, showing him how to supply the rabbits with enough grass, leaves, and berries to keep them healthy and plump. Not long ago, she was explaining this to Twix—the very person she forgot to say good morning to in a rush to find Ari outside. This time around, she wonders if Ari is genuinely interested or just being polite. She finds herself stealing glances at his face, studying his expressions perhaps longer than she should. His almond-shaped eyes and dark pink lips catch her attention.

He's cute.

It's not the first time the thought has crossed her mind since these strangers appeared. Cute like the men in her magazines, though he's not quite a man. Not in the way Ghost is. But he's taller than her by a head and two years older, evident in the notch on his throat and the deeper timbre of his voice.

But it doesn't matter. They are only here for a few days.

Blue closes the hutch and rocks on the soles of her boots. "Well, that was probably boring, huh? We could, um, go hunting if you want. Or to the pond. It's fun to swim there. Or maybe—" She pauses, mentally sifting through the limited activities available, frustration creeping in as none of them seem particularly impressive.

"This wasn't boring," Ari says with a chuckle. "Now I know rabbits are just as friendly as horses."

"They are... except when Grim gets mad. Then he can be a bit of a jerk. Like if you accidentally step on his tail."

"I'd be pretty pissed if someone stepped on my tail, too."

"You don't have a tail."

"It's just a joke."

"Oh..." she fidgets with a strand of hair. "Right."

"The pond sounds good. It is fucking hot." Ari blows out a breath and swipes at the back of his neck.

"I know. So hot. Hot as balls."

Ari raises an amused brow. "Yeah, uh, hot as balls. Are you allowed to go by yourself, or do we need to ask your dad?"

"I get to do what I want," she lies easily with a shrug. "Buuuuut, we can ask Twix to go with us."

As long as Twix is with her, she suspects she can get away with not asking Ghost, who luckily is hunting with his old captain. It's not that he seems distrusting with these people as he did those first few months with Twix. Rather—she isn't thrilled about him knowing every little thing she does. She's never had anything just to herself. 

Twix is sitting on the porch, looking rather deep in thought as she skins a squirrel. Her hair is long, curtaining her face. When Blue asks if she wants to go to the pond, she agrees easily, claiming she has been meaning to cut her hair anyway with the encroaching warmth of summer. Nereida joins, too. 

The pond water is cool to the touch. Ari rips his shirt off and jumps in without even a second to waste. Blue usually swims in her underwear and shirt, but she hesitates with her thumb in the belt loops of her jeans. She didn't consider that he would see her in her underwear. 

A soft touch to her shoulder. It's Twix. "Want me to grab you shorts real quick?"

"Um... yes. Yes please."

She changes into the shorts behind a tree. There is an odd pit in her stomach when she gets in the water. She doesn't quite know what it is, but it's similar to how she feels when she's scared sometimes. Ghost always tells her fear is a useless thing. It doesn't keep you alive. So she ignores it, shoves it down deep, and swims over to Ari with a purposeful splash that even wets Twix, who sits at the edge sharpening her knife.

"Damn. That's gonna cost you."

A splash is given in return, and then they are playing. High noon bounces shimmering light off the water as she tries to keep up with him, but at one point he sneaks up on her and she ends up with a mouthful. Nereida spends her time picking at some bunches of rosemary and Twix cuts her hair. But Blue doesn't notice any of that too much. When the water stills and they pause to catch their breath, Ari climbs onto a rock and shakes out his wet curls. She is quick to find a perch beside him. Absentmindedly, she pinches the bottom of her wet shirt to keep it from sticking to her chest.

"It's nice to have some place to swim so close by. Back at our old camp, there was lake but it was a few miles away, so my mom rarely let me go."

"I'm sorry, you know. About your mom. Mine is dead, too."

He half-smiles. "Thanks. I don't think about it too much anymore. My uncle and I have always been close so it helped to have him there." He nudges her shoulder. "You're damn lucky to have such a cool dad, huh?"

"Ghost?"

"Yeah, that guy is a beast. My uncle says they called him Ghost because no one could ever see him coming before suddenly, they were dead." 

"Oh, yeah, he is super cool," she quickly agrees. "He has taught me a lot."

"Shit, really?"

Nibbling the inside of her cheek, she nods. "I know... I know how to throw knives pretty well."

"I gotta see that." His eyes flash behind her. "So what's up with his girlfriend?"

"Huh?" A divot forms between her brows before she follows his gaze, landing on Twix, whose hair is now just past her shoulders. She is wetting it, running her fingers through the newly cut strands. "Oh—Twix. That is not his girlfriend. She is my friend."

"You mean they don't sleep together?"

"Like in the same bed?"

"That's usually where people fuck, yeah."

He seems ready to laugh. She frowns, head tilting as confusion hums in her chest. "You mean like sex?"

He nods. "You know what that is, right?"

She quickly recovers. "Yeah, of course. Ghost told me all about it."

"You know they're probably doing it, right?"

"Ghost and Twix? No—no," she forces a laugh. "I mean, sometimes I catch him staring at her all weird. But I don't think—I mean, they hardly like each other and she is my friend, really, not his. He used to make me stay away from her, even. But I mean, they do spend a lot of time together now. It's usually to practice fighting and defense. Not to have...sex."

"Don't they share a room?"

"Just right now, because you guys are here."

Ari chuckles. "You really think they aren't doing it in there? She's really pretty. There's no way they aren't."

Blue looks back at Twix. She is pretty. And she has actual boobs. Blue's fingers curl into the soaked fabric of her top.

Her eyes flick back to him. "She would've told me if they were."

[summikomi]

I like the one where y/n is fascinated with Sukuna’s tummy 😂 I just think it’s so cute. Could I request an instance where she gives it some attention.

Like usually y/n will kiss Sukunas face and ignores his stomach but one day she finally notices his tummy mouth pouting because it never gets attention so she asks Sukuna before she starts spoiling his tummy mouth with kisses, sweet words and he blushes around his abs and maybe even purrs and coos at her doting. Sukuna is just stunned by the whole thing because none of his previous consorts/concubines would ever go near his tummy (fear of being bitten/esten) but yeah! That’s my idea 🥰🥰🌷🌷🌷

this is so cute i can't believe i took so long to get to it lolol here u go darling <3 it got totally away from me and also got mildy suggestive at the end, so cw for that!!

".. you're doing this again?" sukuna huffs exasperatedly, playing up his distaste as always, but you're not letting it get to you. with gentle hands you tenderly run your fingers over the lines of his waist, admiring the defined muscle that surrounds that mouth on his stomach. you can see he's scowling over your head, but the blush dusting his prominent cheekbones makes it hard to take his displeasure seriously.

-

you hadn't intended to make a habit of it when it began, but you and sukuna had a schedule. at the end of every week, you'd both settle into his massive bed together, and you would make an evening of worshipping him like he deserved. his large, powerful form would always turn to putty in your hands, basically purring in your hold by the time both you started to get tired. you knew he loved the attention, but there was a part of him you'd been neglecting without noticing.

it came to a head one night, while you were (totally innocently) running your hands over his chest, and you looked down to see the lips on his stomach.. pouting? the view was so surreal that your hands stopped, and sukuna didn't take long to notice and complain.

"mrrh?" he intonated, something like a confused cat, and although it was cute you were too entranced by the view to pay it much mind.

"who said you could stop?" a deep voice murmured, but it was less intimidating with the slightly dazed look on his face and the pout on his tummy.

"oh!" you gasped softly, turning to look up at him again, and resisted the urge to snicker at the almost matching pout he had on the lips of his face, "sorry, it's just, hm.."

with a cautious touch (more because you didn't know if he'd like it, rather than if he would allow it - sukuna liked to act tough, but he'd let you do basically anything) you reached out and splayed your fingers over his stomach, and then gently ran them over the lips there. it was surprisingly soft, but it felt more like the skin of his torso than the one of his lips, and you marveled at the curiosities of his anatomy silently.

"..what..?" his voice was gruff, and if you didn't know him better you might think he was mad - but he was definitely flustered.

"do you like being touched here?" you asked curiously, and he frowned at the question as if you'd just personally insulted him.

rather than answering upfront, because that would obviously be too easy, sukuna answered like this:

"do whatever you want."

-

do whatever you want, you did. if he wanted you to stop it would be more than in his power anyways, so you continued on your quest to spoil that neglected tummy mouth, and sukuna continued to pretend he didn't like it. just as he was today.

a thought popped into your head. hmm.

without much thought, you leaned in and pressed your lips over the ones on his stomach, and giggled softly over the skin when it made him jolt.

"what," sukuna said, a big hand flying over the back of your neck to scruff you like a cat, "are you doing now?"

"kissing you, silly." his grasp was too gentle to restrain you, so you leaned forward and pressed another kiss to the right corner of the mouth, delighting in the way his muscles tensed under you. he was very flustered, indeed.

it was a rare treat to make sukuna speechless, and you enjoyed every moment as you placed kiss after kiss over his stomach, going over his abs and the marks on his skin, including rough scars and a lost freckle or two. sukuna was so cute. not that you would ever tell him that - unless you wanted to see the world burn.

"you can cease this already–" he complained, but before he could finish a loud sound interrupted his speech - and your actions.

for a moment you almost thought his stomach was growling, but then the realization hit you like a brick to the head.

"sukuna," you enunciated, utter delight coating your words in honey, "are you purring right now?"

"it's not me, it's that stupid thing." he tried to defend himself, but his ears were matching the pink of his hair, and you laughed loud enough that you were sure most of the servants around the estate would hear.

"so it has a mind of its own now?"

"shut up," he barked without any bite before pulling you into his arms, one pair coming under your thighs to pull you close and the other wrapping around your shoulders and waist, fully surrounding you.

"i'll find a spot that makes you purr now. i hope you're ready."

"huh? wait, sukuna–"

..you learned a few lessons about your own body that day too.

[daisymbin]

Ok so this might be very suggestive but imagine getting on the bus with hansol after a casual coffee date and the bus is crowded so you're standing in the standing area and he's standing facing u, kinda Like shielding u frm the crowd or smth & u r sharing earpods (🎵: double take ~ dhruv) & he's staring out of the window & you're staring at him and you randomly say 15. "you’re my favorite person, you know that?" Cuz u just realise u might still hv a crush on ur long term boyfriend

(This is my 5th ask pls bear with me i just love u too much)

Also I can get this look of his out of my mind

!!!! thank you for coming back!!!! i chose another song as requested!!! 🥲🤍

full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // hansol's m.list

the bus was packed, the kind of crowded where personal space became a luxury, and you found yourself standing shoulder to shoulder with strangers. it wasn’t unusual, but today it felt different. maybe it was the warmth of the coffee date still lingering between you and hansol, or maybe it was the way he looked so effortlessly himself, casual and calm, as if the chaos of the world couldn’t touch him.

he stood beside you, one hand gripping the railing above while the other tugged at his earphones. he handed you one without a word, the gesture so familiar it made your heart ache in the best way.

“thanks,” you mumbled, slipping the earbud in.

“you don’t even know what song it is yet,” he teased, his lips twitching into a small smile.

“doesn’t matter. your playlists are always good.”

the faint intro of be your everything by boys like girls filled your ears. you bit back a smile at the song choice, wondering if he’d put it on for you or if it was just a coincidence. hansol didn’t say anything else, just turned to look out the window, his profile bathed in the soft, golden light of late afternoon.

you shifted slightly as the bus jolted forward, trying to steady yourself against the sway of the vehicle. the standing area was cramped, people pressed too close for comfort. and then it happened—a sharp stop at a red light sent someone stumbling into you, their shoulder colliding with yours.

you stumbled forward, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you tried to regain your balance. hansol’s arm shot out instinctively, his hand catching your elbow and steadying you before you could fall.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice low, filled with concern.

“yeah,” you breathed, your heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the near fall.

he frowned slightly, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer before he shifted, stepping in front of you. “here, stand like this,” he said, positioning himself between you and the crowd. his arm stretched out to hold the railing above your head, shielding you from the jostling around you.

you blinked up at him, surprised by the sudden closeness. “hansol, you don’t have to—”

“just in case,” he interrupted, his gaze flickering to yours briefly before returning to the window. “i don’t want you getting bumped into again.”

the way he said it, so matter-of-fact and protective, made your chest tighten.

the song played on, and you found yourself more focused on him than the music. his eyes were distant, watching the buildings pass by, his expression soft and almost thoughtful. you’d known him for so long, but moments like this still caught you off guard—the quiet way he cared, the little things he did without needing to be asked.

as the chorus swelled, you caught a lyric that made your breath hitch: “i’ll be your shelter, i’ll be your storm. i’ll make you shiver, i’ll keep you warm.”

something about those words hit you differently. they reminded you of everything hansol had been to you, everything he still was. he wasn’t just your boyfriend—he was your safe place, your calm in the chaos. and in that moment, staring at him as the music played on, you realized something.

you still had a crush on him. after all this time, after all the little moments and big ones, after he’d already become yours, the feeling hadn’t faded. it had only grown, deeper and stronger, filling every corner of your heart.

the words were out before you could think. “you’re my favorite person, you know that?”

hansol froze, his eyes flicking to yours, wide and disbelieving. “what?”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, but there was no taking it back now. “i said you’re my favorite person.”

his lips parted slightly, and for a moment, he just stared at you. then, slowly, a shy smile spread across his face, the kind that made your heart do flips. “me?”

you rolled your eyes, trying to play it off despite the fluttering in your chest. “obviously.”

he blinked a few times, his cheeks flushing a soft pink as he turned back to the window, suddenly unable to meet your gaze. “oh.”

you laughed softly at his reaction. “that’s all you have to say? ‘oh’?”

he rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “you caught me off guard. i don’t really know what to say.”

“you don’t have to say anything,” you said, your voice quieter now, more sincere. “i just… wanted you to know.”

hansol finally looked at you, his eyes warm and filled with something you couldn’t quite name. “well, for the record,” he said softly, “you’re my favorite person too.”

the bus jolted again, but this time, you barely noticed. your hand brushed against his where it rested on the railing, and instead of pulling away, he let his pinky hook around yours, the small gesture sending a wave of warmth through you.

and as hansol glanced at you again, his lips twitching into a smile that was just for you, you knew one thing for sure—you’d never stop having a crush on him. not now, not ever.

the song faded into the next, but neither of you moved to change it. the bus ride continued, but the world outside felt like it had fallen away, leaving just the two of you in this small, crowded space.

[lacydollette]

BLESSING IN DISGUISE — CHAPTER SIX

PAIRING rafe cameron x lovely kook!reader x jj maybank

WARNING(S) trauma, flashbacks, alcohol, mentions of drug abuse, verbal fights, rafe being a dick, suggestive content, explicit language, angst, slight fluff between reader and jj

SUMMARY after days of painful silence, with Rafe pulling away and you still drowning in the aftermath of the incident, the annual bonfire becomes the breaking point. unable to hold back any longer you confront him, but rafe’s cold, detached demeanor cuts deep, leaving your heart in pieces.

“Waah, john b stop!!” Sarah screeched as her boyfriend chased after her, running around the sand like little kids. Oh, they were so in love. jj was nursing on a half-empty beer bottle leaning back in the sand like he didn’t have a care in the world. Everyone looked relaxed, like the weight of the world wasn’t sitting on their shoulders.

Everyone except you.

You sat a little off to the side, poking at the sand with a stick, dragging lazy patterns that the waves would eventually wash away. Your head felt fuzzy, likeyou were watching everything through a haze, the sounds of Sarah’s giggles and crashing waves muffled and far away. You knew you should be here, should be present, but you weren’t . You were somewhere else—thoughts still messy after the incident with Nate a few nights ago.

Of course the lack of your usual sunshine smile and teasing behavior didn’t go unnoticed, reverting back to the pogues questioning you and asking if you were really okay. You weren’t. But somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to them about it. Cause if you were to talk about it, you also had to talk about Rafe. And you couldn’t.

It wasn’t fair, but your brain kept circling back to him. The way he’d looked at you that night, torn between fury and guilt, like the whole thing was his fault. And maybe it was, in some sick and twisted way, but you couldn’t let yourself go there. Not again.

Suddenly jj’s smooth voice broke through your dissociative haze, “Yo, earth to y/n,” his laugh cutting through your spiraling thoughts like a knife. You blinked, looking up just in time to see him toss a beer to john b, who caught it with a slick motion. JJ’s grin was infectious, his whole face lighting up like he didn’t have a single worry in the world. For a second, you felt your lips twitch, almost smiling. Almost.

“You good over there, sunshine?” JJ asked, leaning back on his elbows to look at you, his blue eyes practically glowing under the late afternoon sun. “You’ve been, like, a hundred miles away all day.” You shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just tired, I guess.”

JJ raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. He pushed himself up, brushing the sand off his hands as he scooted closer, closing the distance between you until he was right next to you. “Tired? Or, like, tired tired?”

“What’s the difference?” You asked, your voice coming out sharper than you meant it to. JJ didn’t flinch, though. He just tilted his head, studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he couldn’t figure out. His hand brushed against your knee—not in a creepy way, just JJ being JJ, always touchy, always close. And usually, you didn’t mind. But today, it made your skin prickle, like you were too aware of everything.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his voice softer this time. You forced a smile, knowing he wouldn’t let it go until you gave him something. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just had a huge fight with my parents yesterday. You know how it is.” JJ made a face, clearly skeptical but not wanting to push. “Parents suck,” he muttered, leaning back again. “Tell ‘em JJ Maybank says to chill out, or I’m coming over.”

That finally got a real smile out of you, small and fleeting, but real. JJ grinned, clearly proud of himself, before turning his attention back to sarah and john b. But even as the conversation shifted, as JJ joked and teased and kept the energy light, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being… disconnected.

It wasn’t just Nate, the incident or the weird distance you felt with your friends lately. It was Rafe.

You two hadn’t spoken since that night. Not a single text, not a glance, not even one of those tense run-ins you always seemed to have. He’d disappeared as quickly as he’d came, like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t held you while you were shaking, hadn’t promised to keep you safe.

It hurt. And while you had slowly tried to piece yourself back together, he had distanced himself from you further.

Rafe thought it was his fault—just like he thought everything was his fault. The fight at Midsummers, the way you’d both blown up at each other, the reason you were even out that night in the first place. In his mind, he’d set the whole thing in motion, and now he was punishing himself for it.

The images were haunting him at night, you, crumpled in the dirt, nates bloody face gasping underneath him. The fear in your eyes. And worst of all—himself, standing there, realizing it was all his fault. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. How it all traced back to him, like a sick domino effect.

He tried drowning his thoughts with the usual, alcohol and coke. It hit hard and fast, just how he liked it, but it didn’t do much to quiet the voice in his head—the one telling him that you’d be better off without him.

That was why he hadn’t called, hadn’t texted, hadn’t tried to see you since that night. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to. God, he wanted to. Every time his phone buzzed, every time he heard a car door slam outside, his heart jumped, hoping it was you. But he didn’t deserve to see you.

Because this was just like before. Every time he got close to you, every time he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be good enough for you, he proved himself wrong. He was like poison, toxic and consuming, dragging you down with him no matter how hard he tried not to.

So, he stayed away. He told himself it was for your own good, that he was doing the right thing, even if it felt like hell. But the silence was unbearable. And that’s why he was going in and out of every bar on the island—spending almost every night in places like that, drowning in alcohol, drugs, and meaningless noise. He thought maybe if he leaned into the chaos hard enough, he could lose himself in it. He thought maybe he could forget. But it wasn’t working.

He couldn’t stop picturing the way you’d looked at him that night—so broken, so fragile, but still trusting him enough to let him carry you home. The way your hands had trembled as you patched up his knuckles, comforting him while you were the one hurting.

The way you’d pulled back, hesitated, like you didn’t know if you could let him in again. And who could blame you? He’d screwed up too many times to count. He wasn’t sure why you’d ever let him in to begin with.

He hated himself for what had happened to you, hated himself for not being there sooner. But mostly, he hated that even after everything, some selfish part of him still wanted you.

Wanted to see you, to hold you, to tell you he’d do better this time—even though he didn’t know if he could. But that part of him was buried under the guilt, the anger, the deep rooted belief that he didn’t deserve you. That he never had. So, he stayed here in the dark, hiding between drinks and strangers, telling himself it was better this way.

For you. For both of you. Even if it was killing him.

the gravel crunched underneath your shoes as you walked to the annual bonfire, the kind of event that blurred the lines between Kooks and Pogues. It was the one night that made everyone forget the labels, at least for a little while. You were standing with the Pogues, tucked close to JJ as his arm casually looped around your shoulders. His warmth was comforting, familiar even, and for the first time today, you let yourself relax into it.

But no matter how hard you tried to focus on the moment—on JJ’s laugh echoing through the crowd or Kie’s attempts to roast a marshmallow without setting it on fire—your eyes kept wandering, scanning the crowd like your body couldn’t help but search for him.

Where is he?

You told yourself you were just curious. That’s all it was. But deep down, you knew better. It was like he’d vanished entirely, except you could still feel the weight of him pressing against your chest every time you closed your eyes.

And then you saw him.

Rafe was standing near the edge of the crowd, a bottle in one hand, the other shoved into his pocket. He looked the same but different—his jaw tense, his shoulders hunched like he was holding something back. And just then eyes caught yours across the fire, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.

Every part of Rafe screamed at him to stay away, to let you have the life you deserved, but when your pretty doe eyes pierced through his, the air was sucked from his lungs. For a moment, everything else disappeared—the music, the voices, even the ache in his chest. All he could see was you.

You felt your body temperature rise, cheeks burning up. The pull of him was undeniable. It always was. You needed to talk to him.

“I’m gonna grab a beer,” you mumbled to the group, pulling away from JJ’s arm. “I’ll come with you,” the blonde offered, his voice easy, like he didn’t notice the shift in you. “No, I’m good. Be right back.” JJ shrugged, distracted by Pope’s latest story, and you slipped away before anyone could stop you.

Your feet carried you in the direction of Rafe, each step faster than the last. By the time you found him, he was leaning against the side of a column. Yet you hesitated for a moment, nerves twisting in your stomach as you reached closer.

“Rafe,” you said, your voice cutting through the noise of the bonfire behind you. His eyes flicked to yours, forcing his features into something cold, detached, hoping it would keep you at arm’s length. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Why are you hiding out over here?” He let out a hollow laugh, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand. Your boldness had always disarmed him, even now. Especially now. “Not hiding. Just avoiding the circus.”

“Avoiding me, you mean.”

Rafe’s jaw tensed, his gaze dropping to the ground. Don’t do this. Don’t let her in, he thought. “Maybe you should take the hint.” His words hit like a slap, but you didn’t back down. “You don’t get to do this, Rafe. You don’t get to disappear and act like nothing happened.”The flash of hurt in your eyes nearly killed him, but he held firm. Better to push you away now, before he dragged you down with him.

“Nothing did happen,” he snapped, the lie lingering bitter on his tongue as he was still avoiding your eyes.

“What is your problem, Rafe?” you sighed, the frustration in your voice obvious. “One day you promise me that you’ll keep me safe, that you would stay by my side and now you can’t even look at me?”

Rafe laughed, but it wasn’t the kind you remembered. It was bitter, empty. “Look who’s talking. You seemed pretty cozy with jj back there.” He hated the words even as he said them, but he couldn’t stop himself. It was easier to let anger take over than to admit the truth—to admit he wasn’t strong enough to stay away from you.

Your mouth fell open, stunned by his accusation. “Are you serious right now? JJ’s my friend. He’s just—”

“Sure he is,” Rafe cut you off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “this is how you thank me? By fucking around with a Pogue?” Your chest tightened, tears burning at the edges of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him. “Go to hell, Rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.

But then you noticed it—the red rim around his eyes, the way his body trembled faintly like he was barely holding himself together. It wasn’t just the alcohol in his hand. He was using again, spiraling. But before you could say anything, JJ’s voice cut through the tension. “Hey! What the hell are you doing talking to her?”

You turned to see JJ storming toward you, his face dark with anger. He stepped between you and Rafe, his chest puffed out like he was ready to fight. “Back off, JJ,” Rafe said, his voice low but dangerous. “Or what?” JJ snapped, his fists clenching at his sides, “She’s with us now. Stay the fuck away from her.”

“y/n is not a damn possession,” Rafe snapped, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t get to decide who she talks to.”

“Oh, and you do?” JJ sneered. “At least I don’t fuck up everyone I get close to.” The words hit their mark. Rafe’s face darkened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He took a step closer, his voice trembling with barely-contained rage. “You don’t know anything about me, Maybank.”

“Yeah? I know enough,” JJ shot back. “Like how you treat everyone like shit, especially the people who actually care about you.” Rafe wanted to hit back, to make JJ feel even a fraction of the pain he carried every second. But then your voice cut through the chaos.

“Enough!” you shouted, stepping between them, trying to cut the tension between the boys while no one seemed to notice the rising tension between you and Rafe except Sarah, who was standing a little further away, her eyes narrowing as she watched the scene unfold.

Rafe turned his attention back to you, his face twisting with anger and something deeper—something like pain. “You don’t get it, do you?” he spat, his voice cracking. “You’d be better off without me.”He saw the way his words cut you, saw the way you fought to keep your composure, not being able to look away from him. But it was true. He couldn’t give you what you deserved. And the only way to protect you was to keep you as far away from him as possible.

“Let’s go,” JJ said, grabbing your arm gently but firmly. “He’s not worth it.” You let JJ pull you away, your mind spinning as Rafe’s words echoed in your ears. But as you glanced back over your shoulder, you caught one last glimpse of him—standing alone, his body stiff like he was trying to hold himself together.

Sarah was looking at you as you returned, her brows furrowed as she pieced everything together. You knew she’d ask questions later, but for now, you let JJ lead you back to the group, his warmth steadying you even as your heart ached for the boy you couldn’t seem to leave behind.

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[authenticbunni]

There is no mental fighting/struggle

Girl you is lost. Manifesting is not that complicated at all. You just have to simply decide.

Before you scroll, I know you’ve seen people say that all the time, and it just never wrapped around your complexed mind. I used to have that problem too, I feel you. I have a complexed mind, and even though most people say you don’t have to know everything, I did so I can wrap it around my mind and knowing more actually helped me de-complex my mind. Now that I understand it I’m going to explain some reason as to maybe why you’ve been struggling to just decide.

I’ve put it into two parts if you don’t feel like you need to read everything. Accountability and 4D = 3D NOT 3D = 4D

Accountability

I think where you go wrong is not realizing everything in your life that you’ve ever interacted with or did is from your thoughts. You’re still in a mindset of “how could this have happened? This is not my fault? This is not my doing?” Now that’s human, people always try to blame, don’t beat yourself up. But when you’re trying to manifest and blame every single thing in your life on everyone else, you’re never going to manifest because you can’t take accountability. If you can’t take accountability of your own life, how can you even have full control over your own life.

That was a really hard pill for me to swallow, when it came to taking accountability for the doings in my life. TRUST ME! When I had to move away from Florida, when I had a brutal falling out with my bf. I had to realize that was my fault. Both of those were not in my favor or desires, but I thought so much about those outcomes that it eventually happened.

Once you take accountability you realize the only thing you’ve been struggling with is you. The only thing you’ve been fighting off is you. The only struggle you’ve been going through is you. You have accepted those thoughts into your mind, and now you’ve become them. Now, don’t get panicky or feel like you gotta do a whole bunch of stuff to get past this. Just simply let them pass. Know that these are just thoughts and you have the power to accept and decline them with ease, because you’re subconscious mind always follows your lead without thinking twice.

4D = 3D NOT 3D = 4D

What I mean by the equation is. Your imagination controls/creates your reflection. Your mind is your true reality, and your 3D reflects that. Your 3D does not make you, you make you

4D = reality

3D = reflection (of your 4D)

Stop separating the two, they are always in the same equation. Your 3D is as changeable and flexible as your imagination. I didn’t realize this until I actually saw it happen.

Back to the brutal falling out with my bf. Prior we were just friends but he was pretty regular, talking here, having conversations. But due to dwelling in negative thoughts, in less than I think 1 or 2 days he completely took a 180 and flipped the switch. He hated me, and never wanted to talk to me. During this is completely shock on why this would happened because “I thought I was doing everything right” after a few I realize I was more strong on thinking he hated me, saw me as a nuisance. (Okay that’s enough, I don’t wanna talk about it tm cuz I’m manifesting him back) but that was the work of my manifestation.

As of right now that’s all I can think of, I might make another post or add on to this post. But yeah, those are the reasons I think people have a hard time with. If you feel like this wasn’t enough details for you, that’s fine I’m glad I at least helped u a lil bit 😋.

[cre8inghavoc]

Can't help it...

Part 9

inumaki x f!reader

pairing: inumaki x f!reader

summary: Transferring to a new school is tough, but having your three best friends there makes it easier. Things get even more interesting when you start falling for the mysterious boy who rides his motorcycle to school every day. What will happen next?

genre/warnings: [18+] Characters are aged up. Story contains cursing, new friends, alcohol, college!au, no curse!au, dark humour, SMAU and written parts, fluff, smut.

Inumaki's POV:

I’ve been staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours now, and I don’t understand why I can’t sleep. I mean, I’ve always had issues with sleeping—insomnia’s been my constant companion for as long as I can remember—but I thought it was getting better. This past week, for the first time in years, I actually slept well. It was odd, sure, but I wasn’t complaining.

But tonight? Tonight, it’s back to the old ways.

Back to no sleep.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I glanced over at the clock.

4 a.m.

Great.

Should I even bother going to school later? Maybe I should just skip. But then… I wouldn’t see y/n.

Fuck.

The thought of not seeing her tomorrow... or today, technically... made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t want to think too much about. I let out another frustrated sigh and turned my head to look at my phone on the nightstand. For a moment, I just stared at it, my mind running through all the reasons why texting her at this hour would be a terrible idea.

She’s probably asleep. You’ll wake her up. She’ll think you’re being annoying. Just leave her alone.

But then again… what if she’s awake too? What if she’s thinking about me the way I’m thinking about her right now?

Before I could overthink it anymore, I grabbed my phone, my thumb hesitating over the keyboard. I typed out a message and stared at it for a second, debating whether or not to hit send.

This is stupid. She’s not awake. You’ll look like an idiot.

But my thumb pressed send before I could talk myself out of it.

Hey… you up?

I tossed my phone on the bed beside me and ran a hand over my face, already regretting it. But now all I could do was wait.

Honestly, I was kind of hoping she would respond. It’s not like I can sleep, so maybe talking to her would help. But at the same time… I kind of hope she doesn’t even see my message. Because… what if I’m being too much?

What if she sees it, rolls her eyes, and thinks I’m just some guy who can’t get a grip? Someone who’s bothering her at 4 a.m. for no reason?

I sighed, staring at the faint glow of my phone screen as it sat on the bed next to me. What was I expecting? That she’d magically be awake, texting back right away? And if she did… what would I even say?

Hey, I can’t stop thinking about you?

Yeah, right. That would go over well.

I shook my head, feeling the frustration bubble up in my chest. Why was she in my head so much? Why couldn’t I just… let it go? Ignore it? Pretend I wasn’t thinking about the way she looked at me earlier, or the way her voice shook just a little when she was mad?

I groaned softly, rolling over onto my side and staring at the phone again. One minute passed. Then another. The screen stayed dark, and the silence stretched on. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe it was better if she didn’t answer.

Because if she did… I wasn’t sure what I’d say next. Or worse, what I’d admit.

But then, to my surprise, my phone buzzed.

I blinked, staring at it for a moment as if I’d imagined the notification. The screen lit up, her name glowing back at me. My heart skipped a beat, and I hesitated before picking it up, as if seeing her response would somehow make this real.

WARNING: SMUT (18+ ONLY) & HEAVY FLIRTING/TEASING

A/N

things are getting veryyy spicy now 👀

hope you enjoyed this little tease

im so sorry this took so look... it was very unexpected ive just been extremely busy and honestly haven't had the energy to write much

yes this is very short butttt i kinda just want some of yalls opinion on this... like would you actually wanna read the smut (next part)

ik its late ASF BUT ENJOY IT PLEASE OR ELSE ILL CRY FR

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[holmesianlove]

Chapter 21 -  Purple

Sherlock had returned to his room that night and laid in bed, reading his book. He lapped it up, cover to cover in record speed and then spent the rest of the night pondering John’s behaviour. His usual instincts told him that John was somewhat nervous around him lately. But he didn’t trust his instincts right now at all, because he knew he was personally invested in the outcome. He was most likely misreading things entirely. The book had been eye-opening. Perhaps dangerous, entertaining romantic fancies like that, though. It seemed to Sherlock that the themes in the story were about influence in decision making, how relationships between family members, and pressure to conform to expectations almost ruined the ingenue’s chance at love. It all seemed so very relevant to their situation. 

Things with John were very strange at the moment. When they were good, it was lovely and relaxed: laughter, conversation, friendship. All the things Sherlock enjoyed of their time together as flatmates, as friends. They worked well together. John was the only person he had ever felt that much ease with. He didn’t have to try or to put on an act with John. He could just be. And John didn’t mind. In fact it seemed to be the same for him. They were invaluable partners - in work and in life - to each other. And yet, there was definitely an unending sense of pressure around them - from friends, family,  media, clients, all destroying the little moments they shared. Sherlock could feel it - the electricity between them, sparkling with potential, ready to ignite a flame at any moment with the right conditions. And then one word, one snigger from someone and John disconnected all over again. Even here, he thought, hoped, that perhaps time away from London, from the familiar, from the watching eye of the media and his brother, John might be able to relax into their time together. It certainly seemed to be helping a little. It felt as if he was making small amounts of progress each day, to show John there was something here important enough to pay attention to. 

Having separate rooms at this hotel had actually been a blessing. It had allowed him time to really get his head clear, to think of a new plan of attack. Sherlock took his time getting ready. He may not quite know the right way in, with John. But what he did know about was experiments. Hypotheses. Perhaps testing the waters might be a gentle way to gauge what was going on here. He pulled out The Shirt. He remembered one other time wearing it and he was fairly sure John had seemed entirely distracted by it: his favourite, purple, well fitted shirt. He tucked it firmly into his best, most tailored black pants and jacket. He wanted to make a good impression on the client, but more importantly he wanted to make an impression on John. If this didn’t make things clearer, nothing would.

He walked down the stairs to the breakfast room. John would already be there. Always the early riser, needing breakfast, impatient to get to work. He would be halfway through breakfast by now, ready for Sherlock to waltz in, make an entrance, sip some tea and drift out again for their cab. It was their usual routine. But when Sherlock entered the breakfast room, John wasn’t there. He looked around, a little surprised. Maybe he had already eaten? He dialled John’s phone and a slightly flustered sounding friend answered.

"Sherlock."

“John?”

“Yeah hey, on my way down, sorry. A bit late today.” He sounded a little out of sorts.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll find us a table,” Sherlock offered calmly.

“Okay, thanks.” John hung up the phone.

Sherlock grabbed himself some pancakes. He might as well eat something, he supposed. And coffee. He was going to need strong coffee today. He had settled himself in, and had just brought his first mouthful up to meet his lips when John walked in and he froze. Long enough that the pancake slid right off his fork and back to the plate, surprising him. He looked down at his plate and then back up to the doorway of the breakfast room, mouth still gaping open.

John Watson walked in with more swagger than usual. He was wearing a suit. An actual suit. His good suit, in fact. Sherlock had only seen it once, in court when they had had to testify for a case. John didn’t own a lot of very well tailored clothes, but this suit was actually very nice. A dark blue, that matched the shade of his eyes. His shirt was crisp white and he wore a striped blue tie. He even had his good shoes on. He didn’t even wear those on first dates.

What was going on? Sherlock felt his mouth go dry. John had showered, shaved and created a bit of a swishy thing with his hair. Oh god, I’m in trouble. I was supposed to be messing with him.

John saw Sherlock and gave a little half wave, and the most winning smile. If he registered Sherlock’s outfit, he didn’t show it. Not yet, at least. He walked over and sat down opposite Sherlock. “Morning,” he said brightly.

“Morning,” Sherlock said, his voice a little raspy. He realised his empty fork was still paused in mid-air and he might look like an idiot, returning his fork quickly back down. “Sleep in?”

“I… had a restless night. Thought I’d sleep a bit late, so I could get ready and feel refreshed.” John seemed to blush slightly which intrigued Sherlock.

“Well you look…” Sherlock couldn’t find a word for it. As he paused, John’s face registered the hesitation and frowned slightly, looking down at his outfit. “You don’t normally wear a suit. It’s…”

“Is it too much?,” he rushed to ask. “I just thought, if we’re going to a posh house, and you always look so…” For the first time John gestured at Sherlock’s outfit and Sherlock saw it. The blush, and the look in John's eye, the one he got the last time Sherlock wore the shirt.

“No, it’s fine. It’s… good… you look... good,” Sherlock managed to spit out.

“Okay. I have other clothes if you think it’s…”

“No.” Sherlock said it a little too forcefully and then grabbed desperately at his coffee to cover the overreaction. “You look the part.”

“Well, okay.” He smiled. “I’m starving. I’ll be back. Those pancakes look really great,” he said, before disappearing to the buffet to grab some of his own.

Sherlock closed his eyes and said a little prayer to the universe. He never prayed, but lord, if he ended up a stuttering mess today just because John suddenly decided to be fashion conscious, he would be furious at himself. He needed to stay focussed. To stay calm. It was just a suit. Just a suit. He himself was wearing a suit. Yes, but you wore yours as a sexual strategy, he reminded himself and then thumped his fist on the table in annoyance at his own retort. Why was John wearing… that?

“Everything alright?” John asked as he sat back down, looking a little concerned at Sherlock’s tense posture. He took in Sherlock’s clenched fist on the table without a word and sat down, preparing to eat.

Sherlock merely gave him a weak smile and a nod.

“So, what’s the plan of attack, then?” John asked.

“We’ll travel out to the… ah… estate, speak to the lady of the house, and… then hopefully she will… let us interview… the staff and… the rest of the family.” Sherlock’s brain felt slow, annoyingly slow. Basic thought felt impossible. This was not a good start.

John nodded and looked up at Sherlock and his eyes were… god they were more beautiful against that suit jacket. But then, Sherlock was sure John was looking back at Sherlock like he was a meal too. They ate in silence, just sharing glances with each other along the way, discussing the case every so often. Within the hour they had polished off breakfast, packed up their belongings and checked out of the hotel. 

John stood on the curb outside the hotel in silence. He looked over at Sherlock, then at his luggage, then at Sherlock, a few times before he finally spoke. “I thought… perhaps with the… case…”

“What are you asking?” Sherlock spoke in irritation, trying to avoid looking at John. It was making things so much harder.

John rolled his eyes. “Well… so… we aren’t staying here… tonight?”

“No, if we need to, we will just stay on at the mansion,” Sherlock explained. "Obviously." “The mansion. I see.” John nodded quietly to himself.

“Problem?”

“Not at all.”

“If we solve it quickly enough we can simply head home tonight,” Sherlock suggested.

“Already?”

Sherlock smiled to himself and finally looked at John again. “Enjoying yourself?”

John’s eyes locked with his and then looked away. “Well… it’s been… I think… I don’t know… and maybe I’m… but… well it's only that...”

“John, you’ll find speaking in full sentences is more productive.”

John sighed. He closed his eyes. 

Was he doing that so he didn’t have to look at the shirt? Sherlock smirked. Was he struggling just as much? God, Sherlock hoped so. He wanted to be back on the upper foot. He needed to be on his game for this case.

“It’s just been… a nice change of pace. It will be a shame to go home so soon.” His eyes snapped over to Sherlock’s. Although I love it at home. At Baker Street,” he rushed to add. “It’s… comfortable there. But… it’s been…” He shook his head in frustration. “Never mind.”

Sherlock reached out and put a hand on his arm. He nodded. “I know,” he said. “I know what you mean.”

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[coolchasteboy]

it was the first time Mina bought me panties to wear. She didn't seem to mind that I wore panties, but this was the first time she bought me a pair. I was so happy. I couldn't believe it, she realized that her boyfriend looked better in panties than in boxers. But what she didn't tell me is that she also bought me some new outfits. "Josh, in addition to the panty, I also bought you some new clothes. I thought we could update your wardrobe." It was totally OK with me. I needed some new shirts and jeans. "Totally babe, thank you." I then kissed Mina. "You go get in the tub and I will join you and help you get ready for tonight. I will lay your outfit out." With that I took off my t-shirt and jeans and my white bikini briefs. I got in the warm tub that she had fixed.

"Josh, I am going to shave you" she said. I was cool with that. Mina had often shaved my face. She found it sexy. "You help yourself" I said. "Josh, you don't understand I am going to start shaving your legs, your chest, and your arms." I was like "what are you talking about Mina." "Look, I bought some new outfits with your panty. You can't look all hairy and stuff in your new outfits" she said. "Well what did you get me" I asked. "Just trust me" she said, you will like it. So I left her shave me. And you know, I really liked it. This was the first time I had ever been completely shaved and I really liked it. "What you think" she asked me. "Wow, I didn't realize I was so hairy. I kinda like it" I replied.

I stood up so the tub could drain. Mina started putting moisturizer all over my body. I started getting really hard. "Will you give me a blowjob" I asked. "Of course I will, but after we get home from dinner." I was like, OK.

"Josh, I need to put a bit of make-up on you. Do you mind?" I was confused. "Why do you need to put make-up on me" I asked. "It just will make the whole package look better. I mean, you now have no body hair so it just looks weird without make-up. I won't put a lot on, just some foundation, rouge, and maybe a little lip gloss." "OK, fine" I said. She took about 30 minutes with. "Does make up always take this long" I asked. "Yes, if you do it properly." So I became her little make up doll.

Finally we went back to the bedroom. There was a black bra and panty set, a white romper, and cute heels. "I will help you get dressed" she said. "But Mina, these are girls clothes. Why?" "Look Josh, I mean Jennifer - remember, we call you Jennifer when you wear panties - you just look so much better in girls clothes. If you think about it, it is the fit. And they just fit you so much better. Plus you look very pretty. It will really turn me on if you look pretty tonight on our date." "Well, yeah, I mean do like the way girls clothes fit me. And, well, yeah, I guess it is OK for one date." OMG she was so happy. She even got a necklace for me and a cute purse. I will have to say, I felt really sexy. I also felt very vulnerable.

At the restaurant, we had a really cute waiter serve us. Each time he looked at me, he just smiled and grinned. With Mina, he started to flirt. I was a bit surprised. She excused herself to go the ladies room. It seemed like forever, but at least five minutes. I sat there exposed and vulnerable all that time. Eventually she returned. When she sat down she put something in her purse. "What is that you put in your purse babe." "My thong panties," she replied. "I don't understand" I said. "Jennifer, the waiter just fucked me. When he was lifting my dress and pulling my panties down he tore them. Go to the bathroom and take off your panties. I need them, otherwise his cum is going to drip out of me all night and ruin my dress. Go, quick."

I was just stunned. I didn't know what to do, but I did as she said and I brought my panties back. She slid them on at the table. We didn't say anything else until we got home. "What happened" I asked. "The waiter was really cute and looking at you, well you looked more like a girl than a boy. So I let him fuck me. I hope that was ok." I just started crying. "There, there" she said. "It will be OK. We will find you a boyfriend. I promise."

So it started. I was becoming a woman. I couldn't satisfy my girlfriend. I was wearing panties and girls clothes. I knew I was being feminized, but at the same time didn't know it was happening.

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[wholoveseggs]

Gingerbread

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}{Five Days of Fluffmas}

{Stefan Salvatore x Reader} A gingerbread house competition with Stefan turns into a playful, sugary disaster! And maybe something sweeter than frosting...

♡♡Happy Fluffmas♡♡

1k words - Warnings: flufffff, holiday baking chaos, competitive banter, playful food fights, lots of sprinkles and sweetness...

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The aroma of fresh gingerbread and cinnamon filled the air as you walked into the Salvatore mansion. Stefan was already in the kitchen, a tray of gingerbread pieces laid out before him, a focused expression on his face. He looked up when you walked in and smiled warmly, beckoning for you to sit down across from him. You obliged, smiling back.

"I didn't take you for a baker," you teased as you sat down, picking up a gingerbread piece and inspecting it.

"Well, it's actually been a long time since I baked," Stefan admitted. "But, well, Christmas is my favorite time of the year, and I just...I thought it would be fun."

You looked around the kitchen and saw various cookie cutters and icing. There was a bunch of different candy for decorating, too.

"Are we making gingerbread houses?" you asked, your face lighting up.

"Yeah, if you want," he replied, a slight flush on his cheeks.

You let out a happy squeal and reached for a piece of gingerbread, trying to find the perfect piece. After a moment, you finally found one and set it down on the counter, ready to start decorating. Your expression was serious, your tongue sticking out slightly in concentration.

"What's on your mind?" He teased, pouring you a glass of whiskey and eggnog, which you gratefully took.

"I'm thinking about what style I want my gingerbread house to be."

He laughed. "Oh? And what's the plan?"

"I'm thinking I'm going to recreate your house, it has such interesting architecture." You grinned, looking around.

"That sounds like a fun idea. Why don't we have a little competition? Whoever makes the best house has to pay for dinner,” 

"Oh, you're on," you said, grinning.

Stefan smiled. He grabbed a piece of gingerbread, placing a few more pieces next to it, and then carefully assembled a rough outline of the Salvatore mansion, which was quite impressive.

You began to carefully cut pieces of gingerbread to create the basic structure of the mansion, which was a challenge considering how old and intricate it was.

After a while, Stefan finished the outline and got to work on piping the roof with icing, creating intricate patterns on the surface. You looked up from your work, your eyes wide.

"You are irritatingly good at this," you grumbled, focusing back on your task.

"Don't be jealous," he said, smiling.

After about an hour of working, Stefan had finished the basic structure, and had begun to add candy as decorations, creating a very realistic and detailed look.

You, on the other hand, were struggling.

Your roof had collapsed several times, and you couldn't seem to get the front door right.

You groaned and leaned back in your chair, defeated. All of your design skills were wasted on sugar and confectionery.

"You alright over there?" Stefan asked, a slight smile on his lips.

"No, I suck."

"You don't suck," he reassured you. "Let me help you."

"How are you going to help me?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged and leaned over you, piping a little bit of icing where you had failed.

You stared at him, a smile forming on your lips. His face was so close to yours that you could see each individual eyelash. You felt your cheeks warm up, but didn't move. You liked the closeness.

He continued working, his eyes focused on the gingerbread. You watched him, admiring his hands and the way he concentrated, his brow furrowed, his eyes squinted.

The nervous energy you felt from being so close to him, manifested as butterflies in your stomach. Your heart rate quickened, your breath hitched and you reached up and booped his nose with a dollop of icing.

He looked up, surprised, his eyes wide, and you grinned, licking the icing off your finger.

"Oh, you're asking for it," he warned playfully, taking the piping bag that was in his hand and flicking some icing at you.

It landed on your cheek, and you gasped, wiping it off, staring at him. He smiled innocently, shrugging, and then you retaliated, reaching for the container of sprinkles, grabbing a handful, and throwing it at him.

A cloud of sprinkles rained down on him, and you burst into laughter, unable to stop. He looked so cute, his face and hair covered in them.

He grinned, his eyes mischievous, and stood up, coming towards you. You squealed and jumped back, trying to run away. You tripped, landing directly on top of Stefan's gingerbread house.

Your laughter abruptly stopped as you stared at the damage, horrified. It was completely destroyed, pieces of gingerbread and candy scattered everywhere.

"Oops," you whispered, turning to look at Stefan.

He was laughing, his shoulders shaking, and you couldn't help but laugh, too.

"I guess I win, huh?" you asked, your laughter finally subsiding.

"Absolutely not," he said, a grin on his face. "Mine was better."

You gasped, feigning offense. "How dare you."

"It's true," he said, chuckling.

"It was not," you insisted, glaring at him. "You have no proof,"

"Was too," he argued, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Was not," you repeated, giggling and poking him in the chest.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and your breath hitched as his face was once again close to yours.

You stared at him, your heart racing. His eyes flickered down to your lips, and he slowly leaned forward, giving you a chance to pull away. You didn't, your breath catching as his lips brushed against yours.

He kissed you, gently, tentatively, as if he wasn't sure how you would react. His lips were soft and sweet, and he tasted like sugar and spice and everything nice. You kissed him back, your hands resting on his shoulders, and you felt him relax, his hands gripping your hips tighter.

You pulled back, staring at him, and he stared back, his eyes searching yours.

"Stefan..." you whispered, unsure of what else to say.

He smiled, pulling you in for another kiss, and you happily obliged, losing yourself in the feel of his lips.

The gingerbread houses were long forgotten as Stefan pulled you upstairs, leaving a trail of icing and sprinkles behind.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Daryl helps you reignite the Christmas spirit as best as he can.

A/N: This started as an incorrect quote inspired by a friend and her epic battle with a christmas tree. You can find the quote here. A special thank you to @shadowcitrine for allowing me to bear witness to this gladiator battle to the death. It was the hardest I have laughed in a long time. And furthermore, thank you again for allowing me to use your suffering to my creative advantage. I love you. ❤️

🎶Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree🎶

“How ya even know when it is anyway?” Holding the hex nut up to eye level, he turned it over between his fingers. Yep, that was the one. He placed it in the designated spot and fitted the wrench, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he worked. 

“I don’t, but it’s mid winter and it’s snowing and why not? Don’t be so bah humbug, Daryl.” You chuckled at his expression. He never knew he was making it and you never told him. He would certainly make every attempt to stop and it was far too adorable to allow that. 

“I ain’t.” He grumbled, sitting up to scrutinize his own work. A droplet of melted snow landed on the apple of his cheek. He didn’t seem to mind, if he noticed at all. The roof of the old stall was known to leak. “Just—never understood it, s’all.”

Your smile faded. “You never had one.” You didn’t need him to confirm, and he didn’t. Not verbally. The way he paused with the wrench halfway to the bike spoke volumes. After a heartbeat, he cleared his throat and continued his work. 

The holiday wasn’t something that had been celebrated in the several years since the turn. Truthfully, no one had paid attention. Some of the children likely didn’t even know what Christmas was. The thought had always made your heart heavy but there had always been something standing in the way of any reclaiming of the holiday. 

“We should celebrate this year.” You blurted, not even really realizing that you had spoken out loud until Daryl scoffed. 

“Good luck with that.”

“I’m serious.” Crossing the space between the two of you, you crouched and balanced yourself with a hand on the bike’s front tire. “Come on, Daryl. It’ll be great for the kids. Hell, maybe it’ll do everyone some good.” He sighed, allowing his hand to fall away from its task. The pout you pinned him with was certainly what did him in. 

“Fine.”

Biting your lip in the center of a beaming smile, you lunged at him, almost toppling him over with the embrace. “Thank you!” Daryl nodded and patted your back, still awkward in his reciprocations of your touches even after so long as a couple. It was endearing. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whaddaya need me to do?”

With a firm grip on his upper arms, you pushed him back to arm’s length. “You’re gonna be Santa’s little helper! Come on!” 

Daryl scrubbed a hand over his face and gave a heaving sigh. “M’a regret this.”

It had taken six days and four supply runs to gather enough decorations for at least your own home to be decorated. You enlisted the help of some of the children for drawings and crafts that could be used as well. Though you wished you could color the community in lights and garland, your space would have to do for that first year. 

Your hope was for it to coax the holiday spirit from within the adults and inspire a sense of wonder from the little ones. Even with all the effort, it seemed so lackluster. And Daryl, bless him, was granting a valiant effort toward your endeavor. 

You had just pulled some cookies from the oven—gingerbread men for the kids to decorate with what little frosting and candy you could manage—when there was a knock on the door. 

“Yeah, one sec!” You called, pulling off the oven mitts to discard them on the countertop. A spared glance into the living room had you smiling. The multicolored lights you ran for a few hours each evening cast a brilliant illuminance across the door and then Carol’s face when you opened it. “Hey, come on in.”

Her boot had barely touched the floor on the other side of the threshold when a loud crash sounded from the living room. “What was that?” She queried.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it!” Came Daryl’s gruff response before your lips could even part. Carol’s eyebrows shot toward her hairline before another thump thud crash could be heard. 

“What was that?” She chuckled. 

“You’re askin’ a awful lot’a questions for someone who ain’t even in the goddamn room!”

Try as the two of you might to withhold, you broke out into laughter. You hid your knowing smile behind your hand. “Daryl’s putting up Christmas decorations.” 

“No I ain’t!” He shouted with obvious annoyance.  “M’playin’ “whose dick’s bigger” with a plastic fuckin’ tree!” 

More ruckus echoed, and you finally decided that maybe your archer needed some assistance. “Are you okay in here?” You chortled, rubbing your lips together in an attempt to maintain a straight face. 

Daryl was chewing his bottom lip in earnest when his eyes met yours. There was no anger there, but something more akin to embarrassment. Tilting your head, your nose crinkled and brow furrowed. What on earth could he be embarrassed—

Oh. 

The tree leaned to one side, bare spots where lights should be, limbs missing and broken on the floor. No matter the battle, it appeared the tree had won. Carol was snickering behind you, shushed by a wave of your hand and a stuttering ssh as you tried not to join her. 

“It looks—” You began.  

“Like it needs a stage name.” Carol finished for you. You turned to her again, your smile belying your admonishing tone. “Something about it seriously isn’t right with Jesus.” She laughed heartily. 

“He ain’t got nothin’ to do with this.” Turning back, you could almost see a pout decorating his handsome face. “May be his birthday but this is my tree!” Oh, how hard it was not to tease him. “Why couldn’t he just’a got a cake like everybody else?”

“Daryl!” You gave in, nearly doubling over. 

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a lighter and some beeswax.” He grumbled, petulantly yanking his arm away when you laid your hand on it. 

“It’s got character.” You assured him, face mockingly serious. Arms crossed, you stood next to him, head tilted to match the lean of the tree. “Like an extra in the Nutcracker.”

“One ya ain’t gonna let dance in the front.” He mimicked your pose, appearing a little more at ease—almost as if he himself might laugh. Carol joined the two of you, three sets of eyes studying the colorful disaster. 

“It really says something.” She affirmed with a hint of amusement. 

“Yeah, says m’sorry.” Daryl huffed. Smiling genuinely, you switched the tilt of your head to the other side, your temple resting against his shoulder. 

“I love our little crooked tree.” Your smile broadened when you felt his arm move and come to rest around your shoulders, his lips pressing into your hair. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” 

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, comfortable in his embrace, but the excited yays from Judith and RJ broke the trance, your already upturned mouth splitting into a beaming smile. 

“Uncle Daryl, we have a tree!” The young boy exclaimed, jumping up and down. You had explained the gist of things to a group of children, delighting in their excitement when you promised to try your hardest in reviving the season. 

“Sure do.” He sounded almost proud, sparking something warm inside your chest. 

“How about some cookies before we invite everyone over?” You offered, your eyes on the children before finding Daryl watching you, a corner of his mouth upturned. 

There almost wasn’t room in your modest home for all the townsfolk but you made it work, serving stew and desserts and heaping helping of cheer. The laughs and smiles were all you had ever wanted for the community, the desire to uplift their spirits and inspire hope where so little had remained.

“Hey.” Daryl breathed against your ear, his arms wrapping around your middle. All teeth and crinkled eyes, you laid your head back against his shoulder and just watched. “Think ya did it.”

“We did it.” You corrected him, angling your face upward to kiss his chin, his whiskers comfortably scratching your lips. He hummed.

“Got a surprise for ya.” Daryl stepped back, arms releasing their hold only for his hand to find yours with a gentle tug. A curious expression crossed your face. 

“A surprise?”

“Mhm.” 

It took no coaxing for you to follow him to the door, watching him open it with sheer excitement reflecting in your bright orbs. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but to see his bike, strategically wrapped in garland and bells under the gentle peppering of snow was not it. 

“Oh, Daryl.” Your bottom lip quivered, your voice trembling. “You did this for me?” The tears that began to escape were unbidden, born not of sadness. 

“Well, yeah.” He kicked at something nonexistent on the porch, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Y’deserve something too.” Your smile was dazzling but dimmed after a moment, expression falling as you watched him. “What?”

“I didn’t—I couldn’t get anything for you.” 

Daryl stepped into your space without hesitation, the side of his forefinger below your chin while his thumb stroked your cheek. “Got all I need right here in this house.”

“Daryl.” You sniffled, a sob cut off by his lips on yours. The kiss was chaste, the taste of sugar and smoke so deliciously Daryl that you felt your heart flutter. 

“C’mon, let’s take ya on a sleigh ride.” 

With your hand in his, he guided you to the bike, your eyes wet and your heart full. Not even the cold winter wind whipping against your face could erase your smile. 

[islandofthedollz]

❤︎Jimmy’s voicemail ❤︎

⁠❥TW implied Rape, blood, implied blackmail

❥ You’re Ex boyfriend Jimmy leaves you voice mail.

“Hey (Y/N). Thought I’d call you. This is probably the, what? Probably the 16th voicemail I’ve left you.”

“I know that one time you answered… and you said… what’d you say? You said that you’d call the police or something? File a restraining order? One of those. I don’t really remember. My memory has been weird these days, maybe it’s the alcohol, but um… I just wanna tell you some things.

I wished you would’ve just picked up the phone… the last time I heard your voice I was hard for hours. I’m gonna have to start recording your voice now. It’s embarrassing, but I’m having trouble getting it up without you.”

“Did you get the poem I sent you it reminded me of you? I’m sure you have, I mean, you’re fucking obsessed with me like I’m of you. I saw a poetry book… I saw it in your apartment that time I fucked you. I know you try to pretend like you’re not obsessed but trust me, I know. Fuck, you’re the prettiest girl there is.”

“My favorite line of the entire thing is when I talk about- when I talk about taking your heart out and ripping my chest open and putting your heart inside me…”

“If you had no heart, you wouldn’t be able to love at anyone else, would you? You’d stop making me so fucking jealous. You love making me jealous, don’t you? You..like playing hard to get. You like it when I’m jealous, want me to fuck you when I’m jealous. You’d like that wouldn’t you?

Fucking you with my cock until you’re crying? Little crybaby, acting like she doesn’t want to, like she doesn't want it.”

“I’m gonna get you one day, you know… one day. I’ll cut your fingers open and collect your blood… wear it around my neck and you’ll wear mine so everyone knows you’re mine. You’re already mine, just no one seems to know it yet. It pisses me off… I want you so fucking bad, baby.

You have no clue. I think about you all the time; all my poems are about you, you know I read them to curly he says say it’s nice that I found another hobby that isn’t weightlifting don’t you agree?”

“you know my favorite one is… where I wrote about how I want to hold your hand and kiss you. About how I just want to be with you, you know? But, um, the dirty ones are especially about you.”

Jimmy chuckles there’s a pause he sighs.

“Listen, I don’t really know what I did for this kind of treatment, babe. I’m starting to get a bit impatient. You don’t respond to my messages, my calls… you’re starting to hurt my feelings. Do you realize how that I die a little bit on the inside when you don’t call me back?”

“But you just love to play hard to get… fucking ignoring me. Hell, I even asked you out and you said no. Do you… do you realize my love for you? Do you realize who the fuck you said no to?

I love you so much it hurts I don’t care who gets in the way of out love. No one is gonna separate us. I’m always watching you. You need me as much as I need you. I know you want me, you’re just teasing me.”

“But you… you know I love it when you tease. Told you that myself, huh? All those times I teased my cock with your cunt… you liked it too, I remember. Yeah, you may have been drunk but you were moaning like a whore.

They say even in your drunkest state you’re honest. if You were moaning, you came so many times, remember? Came all over my cock. You said- you said in your little voice ah, Jimmy , harder! Remember?”

“I was a good fuck wasn’t I? You were saying I was a bit rough and you mentioned how you thought you were bleeding. I mean, if that’s what you’re into. I don’t mind a kinky girl.

I’d prefer one, actually. Maybe that’s why I love you so much we’re so alike. You wanna be my slut, do you? Hm…”

“It would be a shame if your family found out… they’d probably never talk to you. All your dirty little secrets brought to light, and yeah, I know you have secrets. If you don’t want those to come out, you better fucking call me back. You have my number.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Remembrance of Things Past: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fearing for your life

Summary: Someone leaves an unmarked package by your door that sends you into a spiral of fear. Meanwhile, the team joins forces with Virginia police on a case Rossi was on decades earlier, one that he will have to go back into in order to figure out the one that's staring at him in the face.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"Remembrance of things past is not necessarily the remembrance of things as they were." - Marcel Proust

"I swear I'm not making it up," you say as you turn the coffee machine on. "I felt eyes on me last night. Like someone was watching me. Like someone was in my apartment. I don't know. Maybe I'm going crazy."

"Was anything missing from your apartment?" JJ asks over FaceTime.

"No."

"Maybe you just had a bad dream or something."

"Yeah, maybe." Spencer walks into the kitchen as he finishes tying his tie, and he walks over to the coffee maker. He looks at your phone propped up against the flour container and smiles when he sees JJ. "Hey, Spence."

"JJ! It's good to see you."

"I miss all of you."

"We miss you, too." Spencer pours himself a cup to go before kissing you briefly. "I'll see you at work, okay?"

"Okay," you nod.

Spencer loves to get to work early when he can while you like to take your time in the morning and enjoy it before heading out.

"So, this mysterious person... Is there any energy left behind?"

"No or none that I'm seeing."

"I thought you saw them all."

"No, not everyone. I barely notice Spencer's. I don't notice half the team's anymore. I guess the ones that I've gotten to know personally, I don't see anymore."

"Hmm, I'm sure it's nothing."

You grab the coffee pot and pour what's left into your thermos so you can take it to work even though you know Spencer will have a cup waiting for you on your desk.

"So, are you excited for your new job?" you grin.

"It's going to be new, that's for sure."

"You're going to do great. Seriously, you're really valuable."

"Thank you. Listen, I have to get Henry ready before my meeting with the Pentagon."

"Give Henry my love. Oh, and JJ?" She looks at you through the tiny iPhone screen. "I'm proud of you."

"I'm proud of you," she smiles back.

You two hang up and you finish getting ready for work. You grab your purse and open the front door but frown when you see a package sitting at your front door. Was this always here? When did it get here? Who dropped it off? Spencer would have noticed a package when he left so it had to have come after he left. Why didn't anyone knock on the door?

You set your purse and thermos on the small table near the door and pick up the box to inspect it. There is no label or anything on it indicating who it's for but curiosity gets the better of you. You only realize how stupid of you it is to pick up an unmarked box when you hear something click inside of it. Rhythmic and steady beeping comes from inside the box and your entire body is paralyzed in fear.

Someone sent you a bomb in a box and you're holding it. Any slight movement will cause it to go off, killing you and potentially everyone else in this building. You have both hands underneath the box so you can't lean over and grab your purse which has your phone in it.

"Siri!" you yell loud enough for your phone to hear. "Hey, Siri!"

No response comes from her. You must be too far for her to hear. You're forced to wait until someone comes to your rescue, and you let tears fall at the many possibilities this can have.

After making a cup of coffee for you, he expected you to be at your desk. Since you're not, he takes the cup to the briefing room, passing by JJ's empty office. He pauses by the door and sees Penelope already inside of it. This is the first day since JJ left and not everyone is ready to do this without her.

"I miss her, Penelope sighs.

"Me too."

Penelope removes the nameplate from the door and heads back to her cave while Spencer walks into the briefing room. He sets the coffee on the desk where your spot is and takes his seat. Derek and Emily walk into the room with Derek nose-deep in his phone. He chuckles at a text he gets and sits down.

"Is that Ellie again?" Emily asks.

"She texts me every morning on her way to school."

"How is she doing?"

"She's already got herself a bff named Jill, and she thinks she wants to play soccer."

"She's adjusting. That's good."

The rest of the team walks in to start the briefing, and Hotch looks at your empty seat. Rossi isn't here since he is on vacation.

"Where's Y/N?"

"She should have been here by now," Spencer frowns. "Probably morning traffic. She'll be here shortly."

"Alright, we can't wait for her. Let's get started." Hotch hands out files to everyone. "The body of twenty-five-year-old Jenny Delilly was found yesterday in Bristol, Virginia. She had been tortured, sodomized, and electrocuted before being forced to make a goodbye call to her parents. Her body was then dumped off Elden Street. A week ago, the body of Kara Kirkland was found in the same area having suffered identical injuries."

"This reminds me of the Butcher case," Derek says.

"Why does that name sound familiar to me?"

"The Butcher was a sexual sadist who killed twenty women in the same area of Virginia from 1984 to 1993 and then vanished. He tortured blond women in their twenties who lived in or near Bristol."

"That was one of Rossi's old cases, wasn't it?" Emily asks.

"Yes."

"Does he know?" Rossi walks into the briefing room holding an opened box in his hands. "Some vacation. Did you get any sun?"

"I never got any anything."

"Do you think the Butcher's back?"

"I doubt it. We profiled him as a white male in his late forties back then. He'd be in his seventies by now."

"Didn't you almost catch him?"

"In the spring of '93, we narrowed the geographical profile. We alerted every blonde in their mid-twenties in Bristol and the surrounding counties. The pressure got so intense that the killings just stopped," Rossi sighs.

"Well, the Copelands killed into their seventies. This could be him coming back," Spencer suggests.

"It's probably a copycat. If he's emulating the Butcher, he could just be getting started. Alright, let's go over victimology."

"Both Jenny Delilly and Kara Kirkman were single professional women. Jenny had just gotten a job as a web designer, and Kara worked for a nonprofit. Each woman was taken from a populated area with no witnesses. Jenny from a crowded drugstore parking lot and Kara from the back patio of a ground-floor apartment when her roommate went inside to answer the phone."

"Why not take the roommate?" Derek asks.

"She's brunette. He prefers blondes."

"These vics were forced to make phone calls. Jenny left a message and Kara spoke with her fiancé."

"Garcia, were you able to trace the calls?" Hotch asks.

"My pretties, they're using disposable cells so I'm coming up empty."

"We do have a timeline, though. According to the ME's report, both victims were dead for about three hours before they were found which means based on the times of their messages, they endured five additional hours of torture after making their goodbye calls."

"It wasn't enough that he caused his victims pain and suffering, it extended to their parents as well?" Spencer wonders. "Rossi, were the phone calls the Butcher made his victims leave similar?"

"Yeah, but the content varied. Thirteen vics left answering machine messages for loved ones, five actually talked to someone before they died, and two reached no one."

"Didn't the Butcher make his victims end their messages by saying they were enjoying it?"

"That was his signature."

"Wouldn't that make a sadist flaccid?" Derek asks.

"It wasn't about him. It was about the parents. He wanted to make sure that they knew he had complete control and dominance over their daughters," Rossi shrugs.

"Alright, Morgan and Prentiss, go to the ME. We need to compare the ritual and MO. Rossi, Reid, and I will interview the families and go over the messages. Reid, where's Y/N?"

Spencer frowns at your absence and takes out his phone to call you. It rings six times before going to voicemail, and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He tries you once more but the same thing happens again.

"Something's wrong. I need to go home. We'll drive up together once I figure out what's going on. It's only a thirty-minute drive to Bristow."

"Okay. Keep me informed."

Spencer is out of his seat before Hotch can finish speaking. Spencer races home and practically sprints up the stairs to your apartment.

"Y/N?" he calls out.

"Spencer," you cry. He steps off the top stair and pauses when he sees the brown box in your hands. You're trying hard not to shake and sweat is rolling down your forehead. "Don't come near me."

"What's going on?"

"I think this is a bomb. There's something ticking in here."

Spencer's eyes widen in concern. "Don't move. I'll call it in." He takes out his phone and calls the head of the bomb squad. Yes, he's been in enough situations to have him in his contacts. He quickly explains the situation to the man who says he'd be right over with his team. He dials Hotch next and keeps a close eye on you. "Hotch, we have a problem."

"Is Y/N okay?"

"She thinks someone sent a bomb to our house. She's standing in the doorway holding a brown box terrified. I don't know much more about it but I'll let you know when I do."

"Is the bomb squad on the way?" Rossi asks.

They must be in the car and the call went through Bluetooth.

"Yeah."

"Should we turn around?"

"No, you keep working the case. I'll be right here with her. As long as she doesn't move, she'll be fine."

"Please be careful and call when you know more."

"Of course." Spencer hangs up and looks at you. "It's going to be okay, Y/N. You're going to be okay. The bomb squad is on the way. Just try not to move."

"I'll try," you cry, trying to keep yourself from shaking.

The whole team is worried about you and Spencer but they have a job to do. They get to Bristow and meet with Detective Green who is eager for their arrival.

"This isn't the Butcher, believe me. Unless the Butcher is Jack Lalanne, this is a younger copycat."

"We need a room with a whiteboard, a window, and six chairs," Rossi says. "The bodies were left in the exact same location."

"Everybody knew the details of this case. The paper even printed part of the answering machine messages. It's a copycat."

"Have you been able to step up police presence on Elden Street?" Hotch asks.

"It's a seven-mile stretch that runs through the city. I've done what I could considering our budget."

"Are detectives Clemmons, Benton, and Gallagher still here? They worked on the first case," Rossi says.

"Clemmons and Benton both died two years ago. Gallagher retired from the force when his wife was killed at the Pentagon on 9/11."

"So, you're the lead detective on this?"

"Unfortunately. Look, the families of the victims should be here any minute. If there's anything I can do to help you guys, let me know."

"Thank you."

Both victims were assaulted with an electrified object based on the burn wounds that could have been by a curling iron, poker, or some other object. Both also have lacerations on their bodies with slight ones near the throat and deep ones on the chest. Whoever did this used multiple knives. The unsub was creative. There are also contusions on the backs of their heads likely sustained during the abduction.

It's a slightly different approach than the Butcher's abductions. Based on Rossi's profile, the Butcher was a smooth-talker who lured his victims without initial physical force. Clearly, this unsub doesn't have the same confidence or finesse. He's sloppy.

Derek and Emily head to the place where Jenny was taken and watch the security footage to understand what might have happened.

"Alright, this is right where she parked her car," Derek points to the empty parking spot, "and then she rushed in there to get a prescription. Then, she comes back to her car and somebody gets her attention."

"They call out to her. She throws her stuff in the trunk and runs off that way," Emily points, "and that's when we lose her. So, how do you snatch someone from here? Push her into a car?"

"It's way too crowded, but there is a blind spot right there. There's enough of an obstruction here to park your car, blitz her from behind, and then push her into the vehicle. Could you do that alone?" Derek asks.

"I doubt it. Two people would explain how the first victim was abducted so quickly from the patio when her roommate went in to get the phone."

"It would also shed light on the ME's findings. There wasn't one unsub with two knives, it was two unsubs with their own weapons."

Derek turns off the iPad and looks around the parking lot with a sigh.

"I'm worried about Y/N."

"Me too." Emily takes out her phone and calls Spencer. "Hey, Reid, is there an update?"

"The bomb squad is here and they evacuated everyone out of the building including me. I hate waiting knowing she's up in there terrified out of her mind."

"She's going to be okay. You have to believe that."

"Yeah, I know," he sighs.

"Keep us informed."

Spencer looks up at the building in wonder and wishes you're doing okay.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[peachhcs]

i feel like she’s got to realize at the end of the day she got two national titles with the school and three great seasons that’s so much she got there that she should take the offer because it’s her future and if she turns it down she may never get another offer

the side plot has begun 🤗 and my cliff hangers have returned

au masterlist

“wow..this is amazing, sweetie. we’re so proud of you,” ellen rushed out after reading the lengthy letter from the head coach. jim reread it more closely after looking at it from over his wife’s shoulder. samy embraced her mom, the excitement not as prominent on her features.

“this is so big for you. wow, i have no words,” the older woman laughed as she looked at the letter again, but she finally caught her daughter’s somewhat solemn expression.

“you don’t seem as excited?” ellen pointed out.

“no, no, i am. i am. i just..i guess i’m still processing it all. they’ve been looking at me since my freshmen year and they want me right away..” the girl trailed off a bit. she couldn’t believe a program like theirs had eyes on her since she was 18 and now they wanted her. of all people they wanted her on their team right away.

but at what cost? if samy signed on, she’d lose her last year at mich. what about all the friends she’s made? hannah? the two had plans for a house already next year. her teammates? she couldn’t just abandon those girls she’s spent so much time with? they needed her for her last year.

“are you thinking about not taking the offer?” jim approached the subject and samy flushed, burying her face into her hands.

“i don’t know. my mind’s been all over the place,” the younger girl admitted. she thought driving home to talk to her parents would help lead her in the right direction, but samy still felt incredibly lost.

“what would make you not wanna take it?” ellen wondered, her hand rubbing her daughter’s shoulder.

“everything i’ve built at mich. my senior year of college? hannah? the team? my last collegiate season with the program i basically helped build? there’s a lot,” samy rambled off and her parents exchanged a glance.

“and what would you lose if you didn’t take this offer?”

“maybe my only chance to go pro at a sport i love and have devoted my life to since i was like 12,” the brunette laughed a bit sadly.

“honey, we want you to make the best choice for yourself. this is such an amazing accomplishment right here. there’s people who see your talent and the skill you possess. remember when we were having a similar conversation about if you wanted to stick to hockey or take on soccer full time? back then, there wasn’t a pro league for women’s hockey yet and you knew soccer would bring you a lot more opportunity in the future. this is one of those moments, babe. a full offer right in front of you,” ellen said gently and samy sighed. she eyed the invitation again and everything in her mind was pulling her in two different directions.

“have you told your brothers yet? will?” jim asked and the girl shook her head.

“i haven’t told anyone except you guys.”

“maybe you should call them. they might have some insightful advice or a different perspective we aren’t saying,” her dad offered and samy knew he had a point.

her brothers always had something good to say, but she also knew they would tell her to take the opportunity. she knew will would tell her to because then they’d be closer if she moved out to california.

“yeah, i probably should,” samy nodded and her parents squeezed her shoulders.

“we’re gonna be proud of you no matter what you decide, okay? don’t think you’ll disappoint us if you decide to stay or go,” ellen whispered before sending her upstairs to have some space.

the brunette wandered back into her room, collapsing on her bed to just breathe for a second. she found her phone and trailed to the sibling group chat—a wash of deja vu hitting her back when she was calling her brothers to help her decide what college to go to. it was all so familiar being home in her childhood bedroom with no one but her parents downstairs.

luke joined the call first and then jack’s face appeared a second later in the same frame, “what’s up pop?” jack grinned.

“hi moose, hi rowdy,” samy smiled seeing them. luke readjusted his phone so she could see both of them on the couch together.

quinn connected a second later in his own apartment. he waved, “what’s up crew?”

“hey q-tip,” jack snickered at the nickname making quinn roll his eyes.

“i thought we talked about not calling me that,” the older boy said.

“we did, but i’m still calling you it,” the middle hughes snickered.

“i miss you guys. i wish you were here,” samy smiled sadly.

“uh oh, whenever baby hughes gets sappy, it means something’s wrong. what’s wrong?” jack immediately said and the girl flushed at how well he knew her.

“nothing bad..i just..” she trailed off and eyed the letter now on her desk, “i got an offer to play pro out in california,” she finally got out.

the three boys’ eyes widened in disbelief.

“no fucking way. holy shit, samy! that’s awesome!” luke quickly exclaimed.

“what team?” quinn asked.

“bay fc. apparently head coach montoya has been watching me since my freshman year and he wants me on,” the girl explained briefly which only heightened her brother’s excitement.

“holy shit, pop. that’s amazing. i always knew you had it in you,” jack grinned.

“but he wants me on right away which means i forfeit my last year at mich to move out to san francisco,” samy explained the downside.

“ah, the catch. there’s always a catch,” luke tsked.

“i mean that’s basically what moose and i did. we played at mich for two years before going pro. it sucks it has to be your last year but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity,” quinn rambled a bit and the girl nodded. she bit at her lip and luke quickly caught onto her expression.

“are you considering not taking it?” he voiced his thought out loud.

“you have to, sam. bay fc is a wicked good team. they’re like top eight right now. if the head coach has been watching you since freshmen year that has to mean something,” jack quickly cut in.

“i know, i know, i guess it’s just a lot to process right now. i mean how do i leave a program i helped build and bring two national titles home to? hannah? my teammates? my last year at mich in general. that’s not something i can just easily walk away from. it may be easy for you to say, jack because you never went to college,” the last part was a harsh dig and samy knew that.

“okay, okay, you’re right, pop. walking away from a team like that isn’t easy,” quinn stepped in before an argument escalated.

“sorry, i didn’t mean it like that,” she quickly backtracked. her emotions were definitely getting the better of her right now.

“i get it, it’s not easy. you know everyone would want you to take it though, right? that team, your coach, hannah, they’d all want you to take that in a heartbeat after everything you’ve done for the school and the program,” jack came a little softer.

“does will know?” quinn wondered and the brunette shook her head.

“i haven’t mentioned anything. i drove home after getting the letter to tell mom and dad. you guys are the only people besides them who know right now.”

“well, he’s gonna be ecstatic that you’ll be so close by,” luke grinned and the girl flushed.

“but don’t make a decision just because you’ll be close to your boyfriend,” quinn said and the girl rolled her eyes a bit.

“and when have i ever done that?” she said, but the older boy shrugged.

“just reminding you.”

“what do you think i should do?” samy asked her brothers honestly.

“you know we can’t answer that for you, pop. it’s your choice. your life. your dream,” jack said and the girl nodded.

“but if you were me, what would you do?”

“i’d remember the really great three years i’ve had with my teammates and friends and let that carry me into the next chapter in my life. the legacy you’ve left there isn’t gonna be one anyone forgets, samy,” luke hummed.

the younger girl sighed knowing she had a lot to think about in the next three weeks. it should’ve been such an easy decision for her, but the idea of leaving behind everything she’s ever known in a place that’s built her family wasn’t as easy thinking about.

[asarajaa]

Hiiiii Sarah, I'm one of your new followers and I just wanted to say that, I LOVED the Wally West x Reader angst fic (it had me screaming into a pillow) you wrote a while back !!!

I do have request tho , would you maybe be willing to write a part 2 of that fic? It was just sooo good and I couldn't get it out of my head

Tysm my love!! I wasn't very sure about how it turned out but your comment really hyped me up 💗. Of course! ty for following me and I hope this reach your expectations!!

Warnings: fem!reader, angst romance, forbidden love, reincarnation (?) Words: 2338 Disclaimer: English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

You always liked cats.

They were cute and fluffy, but what you liked the most was the myth that cats were able to live 9 lives.

Of course, your logical and trained superhero mind knew that such a thing as reincarnation had very little chance of happening and much less with cats, but you liked to fantasize about it anyways.

You would catch yourself constantly thinking about it, 9 lives. 9 different whole lives, what would you do with those? The answer, for you, was obvious.

You would plan your 9 lives, thinking about what you would do and with who. Maybe you weren’t a superhero in one, maybe you were just a normal civilian, maybe you liked to do snorkeling and once and for all stopped fearing the ocean.

Yeah, that would be what you’d do in your first life. 

You would spend your first life snorkeling, feeling all the different textures of sea animals and organisms. Maybe you would get bitten or harmed by one and needed medical attention and as you would be lying in the hospital’s bed, sedated with medication, you would no longer fear the sea and lived near to it for the rest of your first life. 

And then, after your accident, maybe you could even have a date with the cute doctor that laughed but thanked you when you said— high as a comet— that his eyes were the most beautiful jewels you’ve ever seen, they reminded you of emeralds. 

In your second life you would be born in a word without any type of powers or superheroes, you would decline your mothers wish of being model and choose a peaceful and quiet life, studying mechanical engineering because your dream job  would be to be a F1 driver— but you would settle for being the person who designs the cars they’d drive, if being a driver didn’t work out.

At night, when the world was supposed to be asleep, you would sneak into the underworld and spend your nights racing illegally, a big smile on your face— because you never knew why or how, but going super fast without any other feelings besides adrenaline made you feel happy and free.

You would laugh while you drove at full speed, the tires would squeal and the car would give off a toxic smell of CO₂ that would seep into your lungs. You would love the feeling of the adrenaline running through your veins and your heart racing as much as your car, the air brushing your hair because you’d like to leave the car windows open while you’d drive.

Then, one night, for the first time, you would be defeated by a new guy that just moved into your town. He would be the new Drift King that would make you eat the ground for the first time in a long time. The thought of your next race would make your face lighten up because since that day, you wouldn't stop thinking about new techniques to defeat and take your place as the Drift Queen back from that damned new guy who’s hair looked like a forest in the autumn season.

In your third life you would be an absolute fan of superheroes. You would help your twin brother, Dick Grayson, to fight at night being his computer specialist. You would also help your father figure, Batman, and whoever he asked you to help to.

You loved superheroes, but you could never be one, never. The job was too risky, you needed to be the one who would take care of them from the comfort of your house, being a type of online vigilante that even though it technically could train and fight goons, would never try to. 

You would help Alfred with the cooking and assist your brother and father figure when they would train, handing them towels and bottles of water when necessary. You even learned medical assistance under the wing of Alfred, being too afraid to lose your new family member like you did a time ago in a circus.

You would help your family and some years later, when the death of your younger brother and the moving of your twin one would be too much to handle, you would find yourself moving too.

You would escape far away, leaving all the things you’ve known behind and trying to create a normal life with normal acquaintances. 

But it couldn’t be that easy, could it? What was the saying? Once a vigilante, always a vigilante. It seemed like troublesome things would be attracted to you like magnets.

So, taking that into account, you weren’t very surprised when a robbery attempt happened in your local bank.

You would act calm—the teachings of Bruce sunk in your mind like roots—as you followed the criminals orders, all the time tricking them into perceiving you as submissive as you would subtly protect the rest of the civilians. Technically you were a civilian too, but it wasn’t the same, you had more than basic training that Batman taught you that you followed since a kid.

But before anyone could get hurt, The Flash entered the building, saving all of them in a flash. You would observe him, Wally West, the new Flash and your twin brother's best friend save all of you.

Wally and you have never been that close, the only reason you guys got along was because of Dick but when he moved to Bludheaven and you moved to Central, at some point, the calls and the messages stopped. 

You tried to brush it off but the truth was that you missed your twin brother, you missed your father father figure, you missed Alfred and you were secretly excited to meet the new young boy—Tim, if you recall—that entered the family.

You sometimes envied Wally, since your brother always hung out with him and for some years, Wally West has known most things about your brother than you, even know, he probably still talked and meet him while you would only stare at your shared chat—one that has been silent for some time—in silent, waiting for a magical text to appear.

The Flash came into your way, not even looking at you as he moved his hands to untie your hands, your heart raced as you thought if he would remember you.

“You okay, ma’am?” he would ask calmly in a i’m-comforting-a-civilian voice.

“Yeah, thanks” you would answer, your heart skipping a beat when his head raised quickly, eyes wide open as he looked at you. His eyes comparing you to the version of you that he remembered, surprised written all over his face like if he didn’t expect to see you.

You would thought that he reacted like that because he didn’t knew you moved here, which made you ask yourself why Dick didn’t tell him. Maybe he stopped caring for you after all?

He stumbled over his words but the only thing you had in your mind was—

Oh, he still got a constellation drawn in his face.

Months passed and after encountering him a lot of times because of superhero type of problems, he finally would ask you to grab a coffee with him to "catch up". 

In your fourth life you probably would run away.

You would travel the word and meet places you never thought they would exist until you landed on them. You would block all of the persons you once knew, breaking the expectations your family had for you—maybe you would listen to them in another life, who knows.

In your fourth life you would be in every city for a while but you never stayed long enough to make stable friends, you would be surrounded by different people from different cultures, cities and personalities but you would be completely and utterly alone cause none of them would be a person you would trust your life with.

In your loneliness you would adopt a big and fluffy dog and raise it by yourself, making it travel the world with you and stay by your side to the point where it would watch you take your last breath on this earth. 

In your fourth life you would never be able to find him, to find the right person and who was meant for you. You weren’t ready and since being ready is a decision, you would decide that you’d never be. You wouldn’t even give anyone the chance to approach you in the fear of disappointing them so you always left before they could get the chance to do it.

In your fifth life you listened to your family’s advice.

You would  take your family out of poverty, you’d retire your parents after you studied a career you didn’t like at all, fulfilling the dream they asked your older brother to do before he runned away .

You would get a job that would make you work from 8 to 6, you would make a stable income and settle down with a man you’re not very sure you’re in love with but he would be a good father to your children.

You would buy a house near the beach, where you would take your children to do snorkel under your teaching while your husband would reading a book as he laid down in the sand after he took your children to collect ‘sea treasures’, as they liked to called them, before you took them to do snorkel.

You would forgive some infidelities for the sake of your family and would kill yourself yourking to make sure your children had everything they needed, unlike you did when you were their age.

You weren’t completely happy and you were sure your younger self would feel a little disappointed of you, but you didn’t have a bad life and some women had worse family issues.

Sometimes, when your kids were swimming in the seashore and your husband went for a walk when his phone began to ring, you would stare into the little golden sea star necklace your childhood best friend gave you for your birthday right before you moved from Central City to Star City.

You would smile at the memories of that little boy who always was up to a race with the other kids, remembering how you promised to marry each other at 30 if none of you had a couple for that time and how you exchanged gifts, he’d gave you a golden sea star necklace and you would gave him a  golden thunderbolt bracelet because he always said something like—“I’m as fast as a flash!”

You’d wonder who that little boy was nowadays, what his job was and what happened to his life.

In your next 2 lifes you would be lost.

You wouldn’t know what to do with your life or with whom. You would have a nostalgic, beautiful but painful feeling everytime you walked into nature because the color green meant something to you, reminded you of someone you just couldn't make yourself remember to who.

You would have the same feeling everytime the sun would express itself through sunrise and sunset, because the mix of those warm colours would remind you of a love you weren’t capable of remembering having felt before.

It would happen everytime you would see a ginger, no matter if it was a boy or girl. Your heart would begin to race for no known reason as you would wait for them to turn around, feeling disappointed when they weren’t who you expected them to be—but it wasn’t like you knew who you were expecting either.

You would feel empty because you desire something with all of your heart but you never knew what it was.

In one life, you would find it. 

In the another one, you wouldn’t.

Then you would reach your eighth life— the one you prayed you were living.

In your eighth life, you and Wally would find a cure to the reaction of your abilities combined.

You would cry tears of joy when time passed and none of you could feel any difference from the first minute you guys started to be near each other.

Wally would kiss you all the time he could, a smile on his face because no matter how many minutes he would be by your side, his body didn’t slow down.

You would make your relationship public, receiving blessings from all the people you’ve known and approving smiles from both of your mentors.

In your eighth life you two would marry each other properly, a big ceremonie for all your known ones and then a little dinner for the closest ones. You would wear your ring proudly in your finger instead of hiding it in a necklace under your shirt.

You would travel the world together for a year after your marriage before settling down on the outskirts of  Central City, leaving behind the apartment on the second floor you guys shared before in the centre of the city.

You would have children, two twin boys that were as handsome as their daddy  and a little girl that was as beautiful as her mommy. 

In your eighth life, your self being wouldn’t be a threat to the other one. You know your eighth life is like this because sometimes you dream about it, and it feels so real that you almost start to think "this is the bad dream" but that is your reality.

But you don’t have 9 lives, you only have one.

This one.

So I guess you will pass it sneaking around, always close but never close enough, always fearing the consequences of being loved by someone who isn’t supposed to love you back,

You only had one life, this one, but you like to think that the universe couldn’t be cruel enough to not allow you and Wally a happy ending in at least one.

You only had one life and you would spend it praying for another one.

Hope you liked it 💗 If you prefer to be a happy ending, you could just imagine like the 8th life was the current life 😽alte

Remeber that if you wanna get tagged everytime I post something, go to my pinned post>taglist>chose the fandom you want to get tagged in!

© asarajaa — Please, do not copy, translate or reuse my work without my permission.

[ray935sworld]

A kiss in the darkness

Beznaia

22.12 winter writing

content warning: masturbation

Everything on their trip seemed to be cursed. First Vale and Luca bailed out the academy winter trip. In their defense, Franci was pregnant and Luca definitely would not enjoy the trip when his 2 month old daughter was at home.

Franky had already booked a stay in Brazil to catch up with his family and his boyfriend had finally found the guts to join him. So Migno was out too.

And Cele had gone down with the flue only a few days prior, leaving Pecco and Bez to go alone.

And at first this had seem like a dream come true for Pecco. He would be able to spent a few days all alone with the man who he had a crush on since they were stupid teenager. No one to interrupt them. No one to call him out if he was staring to much. And most importantly - no one to distract Bez from spending time with him.

Then it dawned on him.

He would spent days ALONE with the man who he had a crush on since they were stupid teenager with no real other distraction.

He had been driving when the realization hit him fully. Marco was next to him, singing along to the mamma mia soundtrack. It was completly out if tone and objectively speaking, terrible. But when the older Italian turned to him and saw how his thick curls nodded along with the rhythm and how happy and relaxed he looked, he knew it was the most wonderful thing he ever heard.

He took a deep breath, knowing this could either be the worst or the best holiday ever. He was promising himself that he wouldn't be awkward and he wouldn't embaress himself.

Then he did excatly that.

With no one to interrupted them and no one else to focus on, he suddenly notice Bez behavior more. He noticed that he regularly looked at him. Like he was staring. But why would he?

Of course Pecco was staring too but only in a way that the other didn't notice. Or at least he thought so.

"Youre staring" Bez had said over dinner. He had looked up from his food, a playful smile on his cheeks. "You're always staring. Do I have something on my face?" he asked.

His hand was moving over his face. Over his beard, the side of his face and at the end even over his neck. For a second Pecco froze, he watched the tattooed hand touch Bez own skin and his brain went into shortcut.

"Am i that ugly that you always stare at me?" he asked and Pecco felt his cheeks heat up. For a moment he didn't realize that there was not just a playful tone. There was a little bit of hesitation bordering on insecurity.

"No!" he replied, maybe by the way the other raised his eyebrows a little bit too fast and too intense. But he couldn't stand the thought that he didn't saw himself as anything but beautiful.

"I... I mean, come on... You're pretty. Pretty ugly." he said and despite it being an absolute bad joke, for which he felt incredible bad, Bez laughed along. It was his rich, honest laugh, where there was no holding back. No hesitation.

"Yeah? Well maybe I just need some of yours to make me a pretty boy?"

And that was the moment Pecco was sure he had died.

For a moment he couldn't help but imagine Bez naked infront of him. Sweaty. Moaning. Marked by him. Taken apart by him. Covered in his cum. Some of yours? He had no idea what taht actually meant but his brain had already made up it's mind.

With that thought he felt his pants getting significantly tighter. He was getting hard but just in that one second he didn't care that he sat opposite his best friend with a hard cock.

"Some of my - what?" he asked, swallowing drily. He didn't know if he was pushing or what he was even trying to push for. Marco looked him up and down for a few seconds that felt like hours. He bit his lips. Then grinned.

"Some if your hair products of course. I bet you have the really fancy stuff!" Of course. Pecco wanted to knock his head against a wall. What had he been thinking?

"Yeah. Of course. I can give them to you. Everything you want, princess"

The last word just slipped out but for a moment he thought he had seen a faint blush on his cheeks. He wanted to dive in the feeling that a simple nickname had gotten a reaction like this, but he knew it was just delusional thinking, so he didn't entertain the thought much more

The next days went almost the same. Bez made stupid jokes that made Pecco think wrong things. Pecco felt like he was stumbling around Marco like an idiot.

His newest high was when Bez fell asleep on the couch, with his head against Pecco's shoulder while watching a movie. He had sat there calmly, without moving, even watching part of the next movie, until Marco wake up.

But instead of just going along with it, and acting friendly, maybe teasing him a bit, he had just started at him.

But now it came to a head when Bez suddenly burst into his room with nothing but a towel around his waist after they had spent the day skiing.

His hair was still wet. His curls still not yet flat and instead more waivy but already detangled. Small drops were falling down his strands. They dropped to the floor or - as Pecco spotted while following one of them - ran over Bez gorgeous body.

He couldn't help but look him up and down. His chest was defined. His muscles were ever present even during the winter holiday. And his arms - He wanted to do nothing more but to stand up, take Bez biceps and press him down on it.

Feel the muscles, knowing Bez could fight him off and probably win but in this particular moment he wouldn't. He would give in, letting Pecco win. He would let him press him down against the bed on which the older man was currently sitting. He would allow him to do whatever he wanted to his body.

And fuck -

That was when he spotted the silver bars that pierced through his nipples. Whatever thought he had was gone.

He wanted to lean down, put them in his mouth and suck. He wondered if they would actually taste metallic if he'd take them in his mouth.

"Pecco?" With that he was back into reality "Sorry-" he hurried to say. "Sorry, I - What did you say?" "I said my curl cream is empty. You got some?" "I... Curl cream? Yes. Wait-"

He stood up, refusing to turn around while he was rummaging through his bag, looking for needed tube. He blushed when his finger brushes the tube of lube that happened to be excatly next to it.

A part of him told him to just grab that one, give it to Bez and told him to get ready. Just to see how he would react. He wanted him to blush or to smile greedily. He wanted him to sit down and do excatly taht.

But either he would get laughed at - which he wouldn't be able to handle - or he would get it smashed against his face.

And he really didn't want to risk their friendship. After all that was all he seemed to get. And he was grateful for that. He was willing to take anything he got, hoarding it like a dragon and never letting it go.

Plus he would have to explain why the hell he had taken lube with him. On a ski trip. With his best friend. And he really had no interest to do so.

So he grabbed the curl cream and turned around. Only to find Bez, sitting on his bed.

He was sure that was the moment he had died. Again. Because his definetly naked crush was currently sitting on his bed. He was leaning back, arms stabilizing him, his head leaning against the wall.

Pecco stared and blushed when he saw Marcos eyes opening and winking at him. He was about to open his eyes. Maybe to say something inappropriate or stupid. Something that would ruin the moment gotr Pecco so he decided to end it on his own.

"Here" The former champion said as he handed Bez the hair product. "Thank you very much, my savior" he replied and left Pecco who definitely didn't got a small high out of being called a savior. Or Bez savior in particular.

Pecco was still standing there, slightly shell shocked. It was only when he heard the hair dryer that he was able to move again. He wasn't proud of the fact that this was his feist reaction after that but he had hold back to much. He couldn't deny it himself any longer.

And he felt safe enough, so he grabbed the other tube out his luggage and sat down on the bed. Exactly where Bez had sat a few minutes before.

His hands went down to his pants to open them quickly and pull his already hardening cock out his underwear. There was a flicker of guilt for what he was about to do but the vision of Bez, with his hot, naked ass right infront of had been too good.

He poured some of the liquid on his hand and closes his eyes. He started pumping a few times. It wasn't really for his own satisfaction or enjoyment. It felt more like an internal need he just had to obey and please.

And that was squeezing his own hard, leaking cock. Wrapping his hand around himself and imagining his own body heat was the heat that was surely radiating in Marcos mouth. He imagined the lube being Marcos saliva and he moaned at that thought.

He quickly bit his lips and pulled a face. He had to be silence even if the sensation of his hard cock, the heat that was pulling inside of him and the desperation in his body was too much for him.

He took a deep breath and run back his memories. Not just Bez a few minutes ago, but over the course of years. How beautiful he had looked on the top step of the podium. How gorgeous he had looked when they went to the beach together, sunbathing and playing volleyball. His smile when he ran to him to tell him he had signed a motogp contract.

He remembered him shirtless, sweet, sweaty, moaning after a race. He remembered him covered in champaign and wine and whatever else his team had poured over him which he had greedily taken.

Everything. He felt like he remembered everything. Every little smile and every little moment.

Then he came, right across his own hand. The hot liquid burning against his skin, a small reminder that his fantasy was nothing more than a vision his brain had come up to create satisfaction.

He refused to lose the afterglow so soon. So he just closed his eyes, trying to regain a normal breathing pattern. Soon he heard the sound of the hair dryer die down so he quickly got up to wash his hands in the kitchen.

He sighed. "What the hell were you thinking, Bagnaia?" he asked himself. Because if he thought he had already been awkward now was even worst.

It was one think to jerk off thinking about Bez when he was in his own home, where no one was around to judge him. But jerking off to his best friend while said best friend was just down the corridor was totally different.

He couldn't manage to look at Bez when he came back - this time dressed - to return the cream. He was grinning happily, his hands puffing up his hair.

"Looks good, doesn't it? You really got the good stuff" "Yeah, thanks" he said, while grinning awkwardly. He felt a mixture of shame at his own thoughts and actions. But he couldn't deny that he was happy that he could provide something good for Bez.

He felt Marcos gaze against him. He heard the fabric ruffles as he crossed his arms infront his chest, still looking at him. He didn't dare to return the glance. Not when he had just come for those eyes.

"You okay?" Bez asked, his voice daring and strong. Like he was saying 'I know you're not so don't lie to me'. Pecco swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. Totally." he even forced a smile "Everything fine. Why wouldn't it be?" "I don't know... You've been acting weird. Anyway..."

He turned around, shrugging and left.

Pecco used that moment to burry his head in his hands. He was fucked. He wasn't getting fucked. He was just fucked.

But at least he assumed that there was no way this whole situation could get anymore weird and awkward. That was until the evening came around.

He was already getting ready for bed when suddenly the lights went out and he was left in the dark. The whole room just went dark without any warning.

He blinked in confusion, trying to get used to the darkness.

He grabbed his phone - no signal - but the flashlight was still working. He illuminate the room with a reliefed smile. Just when he was about to look for a solution, he heard a loud scream.

"PECCO!" He knew the voice and he knew he hated the fact that he was screaming. "PECCO! FUUUCK! Shit. Shit. Shit. AH-!"

The combination of curses spiked his panic. He quickly ran to the door and pushed it open. He ran through the corridor where he heard Bez moving and still silently cursing.

"Marco? I'm here!" he yelled back, worried that he had fallen or hurt himself in the dark. Because as he saw, the whole house was dark.

He found him easily and quickly lowered the flashlight after accidentally holding it right in Bez face. He blinked and closed his eyes but the shiver of his whole body was evident that something wasn't right. And looking at the thick hoodie and socks he was wearing, it couldn't be the cold.

"Marco, is everything okay?" "I... The... The light has gone out." he replied, his voice slightly less confident than usual. There was a faint sound to it, he couldn't fully identify. His words were shacky.

"Yeah... I don't know. I guess the power went out." he took a look at the electric watch that was connected to the oven but it was dark. "Yep. We just have to wait till it returns. I'm sure it's normal." "Can't we call someone?"

Pecco saw how Bez started to move his hands. They were grabbing into his own hoodie, while his gaze was fixed on Pecco. He moved slightly closer. "I mean - There has to be a way, right?"

And now Pecco could identify the underlying sound. It was fear. He looked at his friend for a moment in confusion. He watches him shiver and move from one feet to the other.

"We're not getting a signal. And there's too much snow to drive. But it's just one night. We-" "But it's cold and... Forget it." this time it was him avoiding his gaze. It worried the older man.

"Hey, it's okay. What's going on? Marco, I'm your friend, you can trust me." he tried, hoping his voice was calm enough to actually have an effect.

He watched Marco seemingly contamplaiting, thinking it over, maybe considering his words. Then he replied with a quiet and stubborn sounding. "I don't like the darkness. Okay? I'm afraid of the dark. There. That's it. You can make fun of me if you want to"

He had this stubborn, defensive sound that he couldn't help but want to get rid of.

"What? No." he quickly said and couldn't help but pull him in a hug. "No I'm not gonna make fun of you for that. Everyone has a stupid fear over something. We... We'll figure it out, okay? Just... I think it's best if we just go to bed, alright? And in the morning everything will be easier."

Bez was still cuddle against him, nodding slightly. "But... I... I had my window open." he confessed. "And?" "My room is as cold as outside. I was... I turned the heating back on but without the power that won't work either."

And now he knew what he meant. Bez couldn't stay in a room that had -9° or something like that.

"Okay. Fuck it." Pecco decided. He didn't really think about his words. Instead he just spoke because he knew he wouldn't come up with another idea.

"We're gonna have a sleepover. Like when we were kids, okay? You're sleeping in my bed." "I... Are you sure?" "Ye-Yeah" he said, trying to push the horny thoughts away that Marco would actually be spending the night in his bed. At his side.

He managed to somehow keep his thoughts clean until it was actually time to climb in bed with his best friend. 'just like when we were kids' he thought to himself.

But back then he didn't even know that gay sex was even an option. He didn't know he could feel like this for Bez. He just pushed his ideas away, covering them as a stupid idea.

But now -

And back then Cele, Luca, Migno, Bulega, Franky - they had all been there. They had been a cuddle pile. There hadn't been anything even remotely sexually about it, even if you'd tried.

But now -

"If you don't want to, I can-" Bez started and was about to sit up again when Pecco quickly laid down next to him. He just slid under the covers because worst than being worried about how to act was just Marco leaving.

The first few seconds were awkward. He felt tense and unsure. Until he felt Bez move more towards him. He felt his hands against his frame, slightly pulling him more towards him.

"You know what?" he whispered. "This is actually pretty nice"

Pecco felt Bez head against his side and he couldn't help but extend his arm to give him some more physical contact. He tried to tell himself that this was just to give Bez more comfort.

He knew very well that Bez love language was touch and it would call him. Not to mention that it was a way to keep each other warm. But in reality he just wanted to use every chance he got to touch Marco and feel him close.

He scooped him up in his arms, holding him close. He knew they only did this to calm down, for this one night but he wished it was more. He wanted to feel him pressed against his body again and again.

He didn't want to lose to feeling of having him on top of him and sleeping, like this. He felt his regular breathing. He was sure he was asleep by now. All while he refused to fall asleep now. He didn't want to waste a second of feeling Bez close to him with sleep.

"I wish this wasn't a one time thing" he whispered into the darkness. "I wish we could spent every night and every day like this. I would hodk you close, protect you and treat you right. I promise you, I would do anything for you." "Mm... A kiss would be enough for now" he heard and froze in shock.

Bez moved and opened his eyes. He smiled at him.

"Bez, you're... You're awake?" he asked. "Yeah... So? Am I getting that kiss or not? I'm asking very nicely for it, Pecco.... Please" "You - you want -" "Yes I want a kiss. From you. Now. Preferably."

He blinked a few times. He wanted to make sure this wasn't a dream. But even if it was, he decided not to care. Instead he just used his chance to lean down and kissed him.

It was soft kiss. They kissed just for the sake of kissing. They kissed because they wanted to kiss. And they didn't want to stop.

They were locked away, locked inside this little house, somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Locked in the darkness and locked inside each other.

Both knew they were too tired and exhausted to actually do anything else so when they separated again to take a breath, Bez used the chance to kiss him again.

Just a quick peak on the lips and he grinned.

"Thank you... Hopefully I can stop teasing you now. I love you by the way." he whispered before he closed his eyes again, his head now laying completly on Pecco.

"I love you too" Pecco replied and planted another kiss on Marcos forehead. For a moment he was wondering if the other would remember their moment. But when he woke up from Marco softly nipping and kissing the skin at his throat, he was sure he did remember.