#caffeine and constellations

[autumnscribbles]

truth | rc

pairing: bsf!rafe x reader, rafe x sofia

summary: y/n overhears sofia and hollis unintentionally, and as rafes friend decides to tell him

warning: swearing, that’s about it i think

wc: 1.8k

a/n: thank you to the anon who sent this in! i’m loving the rafe angst lately, i’ve been having so much fun getting back into writing!! I legit couldn’t think of a title so for now there isn’t one lmaooo

part 2

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The fresh night air filled your lungs as you took a deep breath. You always loved walking at night. The air always felt better, the way everything quieted and slowed down always brought you peace. You loved to sit on the dock, listening to the crash of the waves. You watched the stars, mentally pointing out your favorite constellations as you spotted them.

You were brought out of your trance by a familiar voice coming from one of the boats in your vicinity.

“How much?”

You turned your head, leaning your body to try to get a good view. You spotted Sofia, sitting on a boat with that blonde lady you saw the other day. What was her name again? Holly?

“25, dear,” she said. “No questions asked.”

You slowly rose to your feet, trying to get a better view and be more in earshot. You had to stop your jaw from dropping when you heard the conversation. Twenty five grand for Sofia to convince Rafe to take the Goat Island deal. The well put together woman tried to make it same like it was for Rafe’s benefit, but you could tell by Sofia’s reactions that it wasn’t. She just wanted the money, she didn’t care how.

“What the fuck,” you whispered to yourself.

You saw Holly…Hollis! That’s what it was! She handed something to Sofia, and you caught a glimpse of what looked like cash inside. The conversation started wrapping up and you quickly picked up your pace, walking in the opposite direction and off the dock so neither of them saw you.

The sound of your shoes on the pavement sounded too loud in your ears as you hurried back to your house. You knew you weren’t supposed to overhear the conversation, but what were you supposed to do with that information now that you had it? You had to tell Rafe, right? He was your friend. You couldn’t let him get screwed over, especially not when he thought Sofia had good intentions.

You sat on the edge of your bed, breathing shallow as you went over everything you heard. You let out a mix of a sigh and a groan as you flopped onto your back, staring at the ceiling. You’d sleep on it, and decide how to go about telling Rafe tomorrow. You were supposed to meet him at the beach, maybe you could catch him alone before that.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

The sun was bright and unforgiving, your eyes squinting automatically as you walked down the street. You decided you’d meet Rafe at his place before going down to the beach together. You needed to catch him alone.

You already felt the sweat forming on your forehead as you approached his front door, knocking urgently. When he didn’t answer, you knocked again. Eventually, the door flung open, his eyes half closed once the sun hit his face.

“Can you chill out?” he groaned, shielding the sun with his hand.

You could tell he had just woken up. Usually you’d feel bad, but honestly, you didn’t care. You needed to talk to him, to tell him what you heard and saw last night.

“Rafe I need to tell you something,” you said. “It’s important.”

He groaned slightly before stepping aside, silently inviting you in. He disappeared for a minute or two, arriving back with two mugs of coffee in his hand. You let him take a few sips, waiting for the caffeine to be in him before you started explaining. He needed to be alert and awake when he heard it.

“I was out at the dock last night, just clearing my head,” you started. “And I overheard something I think you should know.”

He stared at you, urging you to continue. His bright blue eyes were fixated on you now, fully awake.

“I saw Sofia and…Hollis?” it came out as more of a question. “I heard Hollis telling Sofia that she would give her 25 grand to convince you to sign the deal.”

“What?” Rafe said, his eyebrows ruffling together and his head shaking as he set his mug down on the coffee table beside him. “You must have misheard.”

“I saw Sofia take the money, Rafe,” you sighed. “I’m sorry, I know you really like her and everything but I really thought you should know and-”

“Just stop, y/n!” Rafe cut you off, raising a hand as if to pause you. “Spare me the fucking dramatics. Why are you trying to fuck with me?”

His jaw clenched, twitching as if he was biting his tongue. You hit a nerve, you could tell. You sat up a bit straighter, trying to show that you were serious. He wasn’t believing you. He didn’t want to think you might be right.

“I’m not!” you protested. “I just thought you should know. I think this Goat Island thing is sketchy, and she’s in on it.”

“Are you seriously that fucking jealous?” he asked, his voice raising as he stood up, towering over you. “You seriously can’t handle the thought of me being happy with someone so much that you have to make shit up?”

“Rafe this isn’t about Sofia!” you defended, standing up to match him. “I want you to be happy, but I can’t not let you know she’s being shady behind your back!”

“No, you know what y/n?” he asked, not waiting for the answer. “I’ve waited for you forever. Just waiting for the day you finally give me the time of day. For once, my attention is on someone other than you. And you can’t fucking handle it.”

You took a step back, your mouth opening slightly. You were at a loss for words. He really thought this was a jealousy issue? That you made up a whole complex story just because you don’t like Sofia? Sure, you were a little hurt when they got together. She was beautiful, and kind, and there were moments you wished he looked at you the way he looked at her. But this wasn’t about hurting her, or getting your way.

“You just loooooved pulling me around behind me like your puppy,” he continued, matching your step back with one forward. His voice lowered and his eyes narrowed, meeting your gaze. “You loved holding me close. You know how I feel for you, and you love it, y/n. You love the attention and you love how you can use it to your advantage.”

“Are you hearing yourself?” you screamed. “You’re fucking delusional Rafe. I’m trying to tell you something serious and you think this is just a love triangle? A lovers quarrel?”

“Stop messing with my head!” he shouted, tapping his temples with his index fingers. “That’s all you do, is fuck with my head! All the time!”

Your mind was reeling. Is that how he felt? Like you were just stringing him along. You never knew Rafe saw you as anything other than a friend. If you weren’t so focused on trying to tell him the truth, you would have held on longer to what he said about waiting for you. Did he mean he had feelings for you all this time? You always buried your feelings for Rafe, pretending they didn’t exist. It was easier that way. Easier to accept you’d never be together.

Rafe had always made your heart flutter, but the baggage that came with him often kept you at a distance when it came to getting closer. He was your friend, you cared for him. You never told him about how you truly felt, because you knew it would likely be a bad idea to be romantically involved. You assumed he’d never feel that way about you anyway, so you buried the hatchet.

“Fine,” you exhaled. “Don’t come to me when you find out your little girlfriend screwed you over. It’s your 400k, not mine.”

Trying to keep up an air of strength, you clenched your jaw. You wouldn’t cry, you wouldn’t react emotionally. He’ll find out the truth eventually, the truth always comes out. He’d admit you were right if you gave it time.

Until then, you walked out his door, leaving it open behind you. His earlier words still coursed through your mind. The mean ones, and the ones about his feelings for you, but as always, you swept them under the rug. You couldn’t face the truth yourself.

You felt something tug at your wrist, turning around to meet Rafe’s blue eyes once again. You thought they looked glossier, a sheen over them. Was he tearing up? No way, Rafe Cameron never cries. Not over this.

“Y/n,” he said lowly, a stark contrast from his previous shouting. “Tell me the fucking truth. Are you just saying this to fuck with me and make me question my relationship with Sofia?”

“No, Rafe,” you said honestly. “I know what I saw. This isn’t some ploy to get you to break up with her or be with me instead. I’m just trying to protect you.”

It was the truth. Despite how you felt about Rafe, you wanted the best for him. If Sofia was what was best, you’d support it. You almost wished you hadn’t seen what you saw at the dock. That way, you wouldn’t have to insert yourself in their relationship at all. You could continue to stand on the sidelines, watching his life pass with you becoming less and less present.

“Protect me,” he scoffed, mocking your words.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked harshly.

“Protect me from what, huh? My little poor heart being hurt?” he asked sarcastically. “It’s too late for that, y/n. You can’t protect me from anything when you’re part of the problem.”

You shook your head at him, at a loss for words. He clearly wasn’t done speaking, but you ran out of snarky retorts. You felt like you had whiplash from all the directions this conversation was going. He stared at you for a moment, his mouth slightly open, his hands running over his newly buzzed hair. You heard him release a quiet sigh, his head hanging down.

“No one will ever be good enough in your eyes,” he said, looking back up at you. “Not Sofia, and not me. I was never good enough for you, and Sofia isn’t good enough for me. So you can’t protect me from ‘heartbreak’, y/n. Because you are the problem.”

He pointed a finger at you, his teeth clenched together as the words left his lips. He turned around swiftly and walked back into his house, slamming the door behind him. Unable to process what just happened, you stared blankly in his direction, met with nothing but the front of his house. By trying to help, you somehow managed to make things so much worse, and so complicated.

“Now what?” you said to yourself under your breath.

[youthguk]

Front seat surrender | jjk (m) | Parasocial

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: smut, car sex, oral (m receiving), best friends with benefits, a little bit toxic, jungkook and reader are a little messy and ruin life’s of people around them

words: 4,6k

summary: jungkook was yours even if you had a boyfriend and another girl was warming his bed. you had him wrapped around your finger. one sharp breath, one heated stare— two bodies reckless in the backseat

this is a part 2 of parasocial series. however, this can be read as a stand alone story!

Reason #2. Front seat surrender

​​"The hell is wrong with you tonight?" The words cut through the party noise, making you wince.

You slouched deeper into the couch cushions, your plastic cup dangling limply between your fingers. The bass thumped through the floorboards as people laughed and danced around you, their joy making your mood feel even more out of place.

The summer breeze drifted through the open windows, carrying the sweet scent of June flowers. Your first year of university lay conquered behind you - a battlefield of all-nighters, caffeine-fueled study sessions, and those nerve-wracking moments before exam results. But through it all, Jungkook had been your constant, your anchor. The same guy who'd shared your elementary school lunch table was now sharing your college journey, your paths parallel even as you pursued different dreams - you in the biology labs, him in the maze of computer science.

"God, you two are totally dating, right?" The question followed you everywhere like an echo, bouncing off hallway walls and floating across cafeteria tables.

The memories of that night in senior year still burned bright - Jungkook's fingers intertwined with yours, his whispered words against your skin: "It should be me. I want it to be special for you." After that, something shifted. The careful dance of friendship blurred into something more intimate. His touch lingered longer - an arm sliding around your waist in crowded corridors, pulling you onto his lap during lunch breaks, his palm warm against your thigh. You found yourself melting into these moments, your fingers absent-mindedly playing with his hair while he hunched over textbooks in your room, or curling into his side during movie nights, his heartbeat steady under your ear.

The whispers grew louder. Even as Jungkook worked his way through the university's dating scene, you remained his constant star in an ever-rotating constellation.

"We're just friends," became your mantra, even as something deeper stirred in your chest, unacknowledged and unnamed.

Each time he disappeared with another girl, you swallowed the bitter pill of jealousy with a smile. Because no matter whose bed he woke up in, you were still the one he'd drop everything for at 3 AM if you needed him.

But watching him with others carved little wounds in your heart, each one deeper than the last.

Then Ren appeared - all soccer-star swagger and magnetic charm. His pursuit was relentless, and you found yourself drawn to him like a moth to flame. The resulting explosion with Jungkook was nuclear.

"What the hell does it matter to you?" Your voice had risen with each word, hands trembling.

Jungkook's eyes had flashed dangerously. "What does it matter? Are you seriously asking me that?"

"Yeah, I am! You're out there hooking up with half the campus, but God forbid I actually date someone!"

"That walking STD clinic?" Jungkook's voice had softened then, that familiar tenderness creeping back in. "You deserve better than that, baby. You deserve the world."

"Maybe I want to decide what I deserve." Your chin had lifted defiantly. "I'm giving him a chance."

Six months later, that argument still simmered between you, erupting periodically in heated exchanges and meaningful glares.

Ren, your golden boy with his campus king crown, was everything Jungkook wasn't - and that was both the appeal and the problem. He couldn't comprehend your relationship with Jungkook, couldn't understand why your best friend's hands still found their way to your waist, why his lips still brushed your cheek in greeting. Jungkook, for his part, seemed to delight in pushing those boundaries, his touch growing more possessive whenever Ren was watching.

"Have you fucked him?" Ren's question had come like a thunderbolt after watching Jungkook's hand slide dangerously low on your back.

The lie had tasted bitter: "No." You'd avoided his eyes, guilt churning in your stomach. What was there to tell? It was ancient history - well, sort of.

Despite his obvious hatred for Jungkook, Ren stayed. He took you on proper dates, showered you with gifts, and yes - the sex was good.

When Jungkook found out about that last part, his reaction was explosive.

"You should have talked to me first!" His voice had cracked with emotion.

You'd laughed, sharp and defensive. "Since when do I need your permission for my sex life?"

"Don't you remember-" He'd run his hands through his hair in frustration. "Why are you cutting me out because of him?"

But you weren't cutting him out - you were just drawing lines that should have existed all along. Every time you did, Jungkook acted like you were severing vital arteries instead of creating healthy boundaries.

His possessive tantrums had been almost entertaining - until Teri. Tall, blonde, and apparently more than just another notch on Jungkook's bedpost. A month had stretched into two, and now she was everywhere - at group hangouts, campus parties, even movie nights. The sight of her made your stomach twist.

"Want to catch Anora?" You'd called him last week, missing him and any attention while Ren was away despite the constant stream of texts from your boyfriend.

"Already saw it with Teri." His casual response had felt like a slap. Since when did Jungkook take his hookups to movies? "But hey, Teri's roommate is throwing this end-of-year thing next week. You in?"

"I..." The lump in your throat had made it hard to speak. Their campus was an hour away, and the thought of watching them together made you feel physically ill.

"Come on," he'd coaxed, his voice holding that special warmth reserved just for you. "I'll drive you there myself."

An hour alone in his car? "Okay," you'd agreed before your brain could catch up with your heart.

But now, a week later, at this very party, you were sitting there with a sour expression that you weren't even trying to hide.

Everything started not as you wanted when he picked you up to get to the party. 

The car ride started with Jungkook pulling up in his cherished '98 Toyota Supra - the same one that had carried you through countless high school adventures. You tugged at your tank top, the summer heat providing a convenient excuse for the revealing outfit and short denim skirt you'd chosen for this hour alone with him.

"Remember when we almost crashed this thing trying to learn stick shift?" you asked, sliding into the familiar passenger seat.

His laugh filled the car. "You mean when you almost destroyed my clutch?"

The conversation flowed effortlessly in your little bubble, words tumbling out unfiltered between bursts of laughter. Your hand found its way to the back of his neck - an old habit - fingers threading through the soft hair there. Usually, this would be when his hand would find your thigh, that familiar touch that always sent warmth pooling in your stomach.

But something was different today. Each time his hand drifted toward you, he'd pull back sharply, as if burned. The sixth time it happened, you couldn't help but notice how white his knuckles were on the steering wheel.

"What the fuck?" you muttered under your breath. Since when did Jungkook hold back with you? Was this about... her? The thought of Teri being the reason for this new restraint made your chest tight with an emotion you refused to name.

"You okay?" he asked, glancing over.

"Peachy," you replied, forcing a smile. What right did you have to feel this way? Ren's latest text sat unread in your phone, a reminder of your own relationship status. So you swallowed the bitterness and kept the conversation light, even as jealousy gnawed at your insides.

The house came into view, music already pulsing through the walls, fairy lights twinkling in the growing dusk. Jungkook's hand found its usual spot on your lower back as you navigated through the crowd of drunk students, his body a protective shield behind yours.

Teri spotted you from across the room, Annie and Tom trailing behind her. Her face lit up at the sight of Jungkook, and she moved in for a kiss. Your stomach lurched, but Jungkook - after catching your eye - only gave her a quick hug.

"I'm sooo glad you made it," Teri slurred, swaying slightly. You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

After a few dances with Jungkook, his hands stayed firmly on your waist - no wandering touches like before. Your skin tingled where his fingers should have been but weren't. The bass pulsed through your body as you watched Teri and her friends whisk him away, leaving you alone with Annie and Tom on the couch. Their lips locked together while you nursed your drink, stealing glances at Teri hanging off Jungkook's neck, her lips brushing his ear. Despite staying sober to drive you home, he seemed to be enjoying her attention.

"Hello? Earth to space cadet?" Annie's voice cut through your brooding. Tom finally came up for air, both of them staring at you.

You drained your beer, pushing yourself up from the couch. "I'm out."

Annie's hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. "Are you crazy? It's barely been two hours!" She spun you toward the dancing crowd, where several guys were already eyeing you appreciatively. "Look at all these guys checking you out."

You rolled your eyes. "I have a boyfriend, Ann."

"Funny how you only remember that when it's not about Jungkook," Annie muttered, but the alcohol buzzing through your system let you brush it off.

"Boring. I'm leaving," you insisted, pulling away.

"It's late, and dressed like that? Have you lost your mind?" Genuine concern laced Annie's voice.

Your lips curved into a mischievous smile. "I'll find someone to drive me. Didn't you just point out all my admirers?" You winked at her.

Weaving through the crowd, you zeroed in on the most attractive guy you could spot through your beer goggles. "Want to give me a ride, handsome?" The words dripped like honey from your lips. His eyes darkened with desire and understanding. The attention, even this kind, soothed the ache in your chest, numbing the cocktail of anger, hurt, and jealousy burning in your stomach.

He nodded, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he led you toward the door. The crowd's energy vibrated around you as you pushed through. A flutter of nervousness tickled your stomach, but something in the back of your mind told you this night would end exactly as you planned.

The stranger stopped so abruptly you collided with his back. Like clockwork. Showtime.

"Get the fuck out before I make you." Jungkook's voice rumbled like thunder, and the stranger vanished like morning mist. You lifted innocent eyes to meet Jungkook's, watching his broad chest rise and fall with barely contained rage. "What the hell are you thinking?"

Victory danced through your veins. Just as you knew he would, your Jungkook had been watching, even while entertaining Teri across the room. Your Jungkook would never let you leave with anyone else.

"I just wanted to go home," you murmured, pushing your lower lip out into a pout and furrowing your brows. Pure innocence. Jungkook's scowl began to soften around the edges, even as he fought to maintain his anger.

You flashed him an angelic smile, bringing your index finger to your lips in that way you knew drove him crazy - one of many secrets you'd shared over late-night conversations about what got you both going, even now with other people in your beds. "My head's spinning... I can't stay here anymore," you whispered, and the last of his frown melted away.

How could he stay mad at you?

"You know I would've taken you home - all you had to do was ask!" He guided you toward the exit, his frustration evident in every step.

The June night air kissed your skin as you walked to his car. "You seemed busy," you purred, and Jungkook's growl sent shivers down your spine.

"Bullshit. You know I'm never too busy for you." He ran his fingers through his hair, jaw clenched. God, he looked good when he was worked up.

"Sorry," you gazed up at him through your lashes as he steadied you with a hand on your waist, helping you into the car.

"I forgive you, but I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you." He gripped the steering wheel tight, starting the engine.

"Kookie," you cooed, reaching out to stroke his neck. "Isn't it amazing that we have each other?"

A smirk played at his lips. "You could say that."

"No, really..." Your fingers traced the curve of his bicep, giving in to your body's constant need to touch him, to confirm he was still yours. Completely.

His arm tensed beneath your touch, a fleeting reaction, but you felt it. His gaze flicked toward you—dark, hungry—before snapping back to the road. A muscle in his jaw ticked as his eyes had taken in the way your legs, bare under the short skirt, angled toward him.

Yet, Jungkook kept his hands on the wheel. Kept his focus.

“We’ll always be in each other’s lives. I won’t allow anything else,” he murmured, his tone as steady as if he were reciting the time.

Your thighs pressed together, heat pooling between them, betraying you.

“Stop at that little shop and get me some ice cream,” you said, your voice feigning nonchalance. “And get some for yourself too.”

Jungkook let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. “Well done, Y/n. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger.” Yet, he pulled into the lot without hesitation.

The gas station shop stood mostly deserted, its neon sign buzzing faintly in the night. Your pulse quickened as you realized—no audience. Of course, Jungkook’s windows were tinted, but if your little plan worked, you wouldn’t want any spectators anyway.

Jungkook stepped out, leaving you alone in the car. You watched him through the windshield, eyes trailing the broad line of his back, the powerful way he moved. He’d always been good-looking, even in high school, but university had sculpted him into something more—a man.

Your fingers curled against your thighs, pressing hard. A slow, traitorous thought slithered through your mind. If his body had changed this much, what else had?

You threw your head back against the seat, exhaling sharply. Fuck. This was Jungkook. Why did you start this?

Ren.

Your stomach twisted. You had a boyfriend. A serious relationship. Or at least, it could’ve been serious—could’ve become something real.

Your eyes flicked back up, catching Jungkook’s reflection in the glass door as he stepped out, two ice creams in hand. And just like that, the guilt evaporated.

He slid into the driver’s seat, handing you yours, but before he could start the car, you stopped him.

“Wait. Let’s eat here.”

He stilled, turning his head slightly. His gaze dropped again, just for a second, to your skirt before he forced it back up. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel. “It’s dark,” you continued. “We’ve got half an hour left to drive. Let’s just sit for a bit.”

Jungkook’s lips pressed together as if he were testing the weight of your words. Then, with a slow nod, he leaned back. “Amazing reasoning for someone who was ready to leave with a stranger ten minutes ago,” he muttered, a trace of irritation lacing his voice.

You swatted at his thigh—a playful tap. But the way his muscles jumped under your palm wasn’t lost on you.

You ate in relative ease, chatting about summer plans, laughter slipping in between bites. You avoided mentioning Ren’s lake house, the two weeks you were supposed to spend there. Jungkook talked about work, how he was saving up for a new car.

The ice cream melted, sticky and sweet.

Your thumb smeared with a drop, and instinctively, you brought it to your lips, tongue darting out to clean it. But not before making sure Jungkook was watching.

His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“You’ve got something…” His voice was rougher now, his thumb gesturing to the corner of your mouth.

You blinked at him, feigning innocence. “Where?”

He pointed again, this time on himself.

You tilted your head, pretending to inspect your reflection in the mirror before sighing. “Better clean it yourself, Jungkookie.”

His breath hitched—just barely, but enough. He reached forward, swiping his thumb across your lips. The warmth of his skin sent a shiver down your spine.

You caught his wrist before he could pull away, guiding his touch. Slowly, deliberately, you let him trace the outline of your lips. His pupils blew wide as his breathing grew heavier.

You parted your lips, drawing his thumb inside, your tongue curling around the pad of it.

Jungkook went rigid.

His fingers twitched, barely brushing against your teeth, his breath coming out in shallow, uneven bursts. You sucked lightly, slow and deliberate, eyes locked on his. The effect was instant—his chest rose sharply, his other hand gripping his thigh.

“Y/n, you—”

You sucked harder, feeling the way his body jerked, the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His free hand found his belt, gripping it like an anchor.

Poor thing. Big, intimidating Jungkook, the guy everyone feared—sitting before you, struggling to keep himself together.

You pulled his thumb from your lips with a wet pop.

“I…” You leaned closer, voice dripping with intent. “Want to take care of my friend.”

Your fingers trailed down, tracing the outline of his jeans. Even through the fabric, he was already straining against it.

Jungkook cursed under his breath, eyes dark and unreadable. “Fuck, Y/n, don’t joke like that.”

You smiled, wicked and knowing.

Still, he barely hesitated as he shoved his seat back, giving himself more space.

His legs spread wide, head tilted back against the headrest, breath shallow.

The space between you crackled with unspoken words, heavy breaths filling the car like a storm about to break. His fingers trembled slightly as they brushed your waist, hesitating—just for a second—before his hunger swallowed his restraint whole.

“Fuck,” Jungkook muttered, his voice raw as his forehead met yours, eyes dark and unreadable. “We shouldn’t—”

“We already are,” you whispered, undoing his zipper with slow, deliberate precision, your touch both a challenge and an invitation. His breath hitched, his restraint fracturing as your hand wrapped around his hard cock, warmth searing through your palm. His jaw clenched, a curse escaping between gritted teeth.

You felt him, hot and heavy in your grip, marveling at how thick and perfect he was. The way he twitched in your grasp, the heat radiating off him, made your mouth water. The anticipation pulsed between your legs, the ache undeniable as wetness pooled between your thighs.

His head fell back against the headrest as you leaned down, the tip of your tongue teasing him, tasting the anticipation on the tip of his dick. The groan that tore from his throat sent shivers down your spine, deep and guttural, like he was losing himself in you..

“Fuck, baby…” His fingers found your hair, gripping tight—too tight, a contradiction between wanting control and surrendering to you entirely.

You let him guide you, let him use you, taking him deeper, reveling in the way his composure unraveled with every flick of your tongue. The way he cursed your name, a plea and a punishment in one breath. You moaned softly around him, reveling in the weight of him on your tongue, in the way he barely held himself together under your touch. The way he filled your mouth, stretching your lips, sent an intoxicating thrill through your body. You were dripping for him, your thighs clenched together, desperate for friction.

The car’s interior felt suffocatingly small, filled only with the slick sounds of desperation and the raw edge of something neither of you wanted to name. You were lost in it, lost in him, lost in the way he unraveled for you so beautifully. And when his body finally tensed, his release shattering through him, the sound he made sent a shiver down your spine—a sound so unguarded, so devastatingly undone that you felt yourself trembling in response.

But the hunger wasn’t satisfied. Not yet.

Even as he came undone in your mouth, his body still thrummed with hunger. Lust. That damn longing neither of you could outrun.

His breathing was ragged as he grabbed a condom, his fingers shaking just enough for you to notice. He slid it on swiftly before pulling you onto his lap, hands gripping your hips like he was afraid you’d slip away.

His fingers found the hem of your tank top, pushing it up with deliberate slowness, his eyes darkening as your breasts spilled free. He groaned, dragging his thumbs over your nipples before taking one into his mouth, his tongue circling, teeth grazing, making you arch against him.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he murmured against your skin, his voice wrecked with desire.

You stared at each other in the dim light, breath mingling, hearts hammering against ribs like they wanted to break free. His lips parted, something unspoken lingering there, but neither of you dared voice it.

Because this wasn’t just lust.

It was poison, dressed as passion.

And yet, as you sank down onto him, your body stretching to take him in, the only thing that mattered was the way he filled you, the way his hands gripped you tighter—like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the moment.

“God, you feel…” Jungkook's voice broke off into a growl, his forehead pressing against your shoulder, his hands roaming your body with reverence and possession.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your short denim skirt, shoving it up roughly to expose the slick heat between your legs. His grip tightened as he thrust up into you, the stretch so intoxicating it made your head spin.

You gasped, nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure crashed through you in waves. He groaned, his hands steadying your hips before he snapped his own upwards, burying himself deeper. The force of it sent a cry tumbling from your lips, the intensity overwhelming as he set a brutal pace.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he panted, his voice trembling with restraint, but the way his hips surged up against yours betrayed his desperation. His hands wandered, one gripping your waist possessively while the other trailed down, slipping between your thighs. The second his fingers found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles, your entire body tensed.

Your breath hitched, vision blurring as pleasure coiled tight, unbearable, electric. His touch was ruthless, his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the edge until the pleasure became too much to hold back.

“Jungkook—” His name broke from your lips in a strangled moan as you came undone around him, waves of ecstasy rippling through your body. Your walls clenched tight around him, pulling him deeper, making him groan as he chased his own release.

His movements grew frantic, desperate, his teeth grazing your shoulder, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force. And when he finally let go, his release spilling into the condom, he clung to you like a drowning man.

The air between you was thick with something more than lust—something dangerous, something that made you forget why this should’ve never happened in the first place.

And when you finally collapsed against his chest, panting, trembling, your bodies tangled together in the sticky heat of the moment, you knew it wouldn’t be the last time.

No matter how much you wished it would be.

You gripped the car door handle, knuckles white against the cool metal as the engine rumbled beneath you. Jungkook's cologne filled the space between you, mixing with the crisp night air that whistled through a crack in the window. Neither of you spoke, but your racing heartbeat seemed to echo in the silence.

"So." His voice cut through the quiet, lips curving into that familiar half-smile. "Is this your way of telling me you and Ren are over?"

Ren's name hit you like a punch to the gut. You pressed your forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching streetlights blur past. "No," you whispered, your reflection avoiding his gaze in the darkened glass. "I... I don't know what's gotten into me."

Jungkook's low chuckle vibrated through the car. "I do."

Your gaze snapped to him. "What?"

His eyes caught yours, dark and knowing. "This was your way of checking if I still belong to you."

Your chest tightened. "That's not—"

"Don't lie to me, baby." His words sliced through yours, wrapped in a velvet laugh. "I know you better than you know yourself."

The truth of his words sank into your skin like ice water. Your reflection stared back at you, cheeks flushed with shame.

Your nails carved crescents into your palms as you clenched your fists in your lap. Every cell in your body screamed with self-loathing - for the betrayal, for the way your skin still tingled where Jungkook had touched you, for knowing you'd never look at Ren the same way again.

Jungkook's voice dropped to a husky whisper. "How do you plan on fucking him now?" His words dripped like honey laced with poison. "Now you that you remembered how good my dick feels?"

Heat bloomed across your face, equal parts shame and something darker, hungrier. You smacked his arm. "You're an asshole."

His laugh filled the car as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Maybe." Those eyes found yours again, gleaming. "But you love it."

The next morning, you blinked against harsh fluorescent lights as you emerged from your last biology lecture. Your notebook was filled with sketches of cell membranes and chemical equations, but your mind kept drifting to other things. The strap of your bag dug into your shoulder as you pushed through the heavy doors into the summer air.

Your lips curved upward as fragments of last night flickered through your mind - the way Jungkook's fingers had branded your skin, how perfectly he'd filled you, the rough edge in his voice when he'd...

"Y/N."

The sharp voice shattered your daydream. You spun around, and your stomach plummeted to your feet. There stood Teri, her manicured nails digging into the strap of her designer bag.

Her mascara-rimmed eyes blazed, lip curled back in a snarl. "Slut." The word cracked like a whip in the space between you.

Your jaw clenched tight enough to ache. "Excuse me?"

In one fluid motion, Teri reached into her bag and hurled something at your feet. The familiar scrap of black lace made your blood run cold. Your underwear.

The ones you'd left tangled in Jungkook's backseat.

Shit.

Whispers rippled through the crowd of students gathering around you, but they felt distant, underwater.

Teri's voice trembled, each word sharp as broken glass. "You think I'm stupid? You and Jungkook—using people like we're fucking disposable while you two play whatever twisted game this is?" Her voice climbed higher, cracking at the edges. "You clearly have feelings for each other. So why the hell are you dragging the rest of us into your mess?"

Your mouth opened and closed, but your throat had sealed shut. What defense could you possibly offer?

She stepped closer, close enough that you could see tears gathering in her eyes beneath the anger. "You could've just had him. Why mess with others?"

The guilt pressed against your ribcage like a physical weight. But underneath it, something else unfurled - a dark satisfaction that purred: She's gone now. Jungkook was never meant to be hers anyway. She was just trying to be another obstacle between you and him.

Because what you and Jungkook shared was sacred. Untouchable. Beyond anyone else's understanding.

part 3

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[zenithsturniolo]

SCREAM, BITCH - ghostface!chris x blogger!reader

♬ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ series intro | 1 |

chapter one: user 187 is now following you

this chapter will contain.. stalking, online surveillance, obsessive behavior, mentions of murder, themes of isolation, and strong language. wc: 1.2k series summary: a dark, twisted slowburn where obsession bleeds into desire. you're a true crime blogger. chris is the masked stranger recreating your cases. dual povs, filthy tension, and cliffhangers sharp enough to scar. it’s not just stalking - it’s seduction. not just fear - it’s fascination. you wanted a story. he wanted you. now you’re both in far too deep.

♯ reader pov

who's watching? tell me, who's watching? who's watching me?

you don’t notice him right away. not because he’s unnoticeable — no, he’s anything but. it’s more that he’s familiar. a fixture, like the bittersweet cling of espresso on your tongue or the soft whir of the café's ancient ceiling fan. he’s threaded into your mornings so seamlessly, you’ve stopped questioning it.

he’s already there when you unlock the front door, hunched against the glass, hoodie up, airpods in. the early fog curls around him, softening the hard edges of his frame, but it doesn’t touch him. he looks carved from it. unbothered. waiting.

you flash a tired smile out of habit, and he returns it with one of his own — lazy, boyish, like he’s never harbored a dark thought in his life.

“you opening up just for me?”

his voice is syrupy — thick, golden, a little dangerous if you listen too long. smooth enough to catch you off guard, but not sharp enough to bleed.

you roll your eyes, the keys jingling in your hand. “you know the drill. get in, sit down, and don’t judge my playlist.”

he always judges. it’s practically ritual. you’ll press play on some haunting Lana Del Rey ballad or a chaotic collision of true crime podcasts and r&b, and he’ll shoot you a mock-offended look over the rim of his drink.

his name’s chris.

you call him “mr. pepsi” because his drink orders sound like a dare — cold brew with four espresso shots and a splash of vanilla. a concoction for someone who seems half-fueled by caffeine, half-fueled by some darker current.

but he’s kind. attentive in a way that feels deliberate. always tipping more than he should. always asking about your blog, your writing, your life — lingering a second longer than necessary. like he’s cataloging it. and today, he’s no different.

“working on anything juicy?” he asks, balancing his drink between ringed fingers.

you shrug, wiping down the counter. “nothing you’d wanna read. it’s fucked up.”

his smile curves sharp. knowing. “i like fucked up.”

you laugh it off because it’s easier than digging into the strange way his eyes catch the light — like glass splintering under pressure. you tell him to shut up. he leaves after an hour, promising to see you later, like always.

routine. safe. familiar.

you never think twice.

—

by the time your shift drags itself to a close, your body feels splintered. your spine hums with dull, angry aches, and your feet burn with every step. the grocery bags dig into your fingers on the walk home, biting little crescents into your skin.

you kick the door open with your hip, the scent of stale coffee and city rain clinging to your jacket. your keys clatter into the ceramic dish by the door. the apartment sighs around you — quiet, save for the low hum of your laptop screen still open on the couch, casting ghostly blue light across the room.

you move on autopilot. water hissing onto the stove, bubbles snapping against the pot. you open facetime.

he answers before the first ring even finishes.

chris’s face fills the screen — messy curls, a loose tank top baring a constellation of freckles on his arms. sprawled across his bed like he’s been waiting for you.

“chef mode?” he teases, voice a low, scratchy lull.

“pasta night,” you murmur, tossing a fistful of spaghetti into the boiling water.

he grins — slow, lazy, like he’s savoring the image. “save me a bite.”

you roll your eyes but warmth blooms in your chest anyway, traitorous and soft. you like the way he talks to you, like you’re something he’s already halfway claimed.

the conversation drifts, background noise blending with the clatter of plates and the thick, comforting scent of garlic. he tells you about a podcast he binge-listened to; you talk about the blog post you’re nearly done with.

“it’s a weird one,” you say, voice dropping as you stir sauce into a simmer. “the lakewood strangler. old case. real fucked.”

“give me the quick version.”

you oblige — missing girls, same stretch of isolated trail, strangulation, peculiar signatures nobody could ever piece together. the mystery of footprints vanishing mid-path.

chris hums quietly under his breath. “you always write about killers like they’re puzzles.”

“aren’t they?” you ask, only half-joking.

he’s quiet for a beat too long before murmuring goodnight.

you don’t dwell. you plate your pasta, pour a glass of cheap red wine, and collapse onto the couch, laptop warming your thighs. your blog post blazes on the screen — paragraphs of gory fascination, cold case theories, criminal pathology.

you read it through one last time. every brutal detail. every chilling quote. every twisted breadcrumb.

then you hit publish.

it goes live at 9:37 p.m.

you don’t expect fireworks. your blog usually simmers before it sparks. so you cue up a mindless show, twirling pasta absently, brain half-scattered between the glow of the TV and your screen.

then — buzz.

one notification.

then five.

then seventeen, snowballing faster than you can blink.

your heart hiccups in your chest.

your posts don’t move that fast.

you swipe to your dashboard, fingers trembling.

a new user. no profile picture. no bio.

user 187.

they're clawing through every post you’ve ever made — liking, commenting, reblogging with cryptic little phrases. most are just emojis.

🔪 👁️ 🩸

your stomach flips, nausea curling cold and sour.

at first, you think stalker. a fan. maybe someone from the café who dug too deep. you tell yourself it’s not that weird. it’s not.

you click absentmindedly to the news.

your breath freezes in your lungs.

BREAKING: YOUNG WOMAN FOUND DEAD IN LAKEWOOD NATURE RESERVE.

your wine glass slips from your fingers, shattering against the hardwood.

the TV blares in the background, some canned laugh track ghosting through the apartment, but all you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears.

on screen, a reporter clutches her microphone like a lifeline, her face bloodless against the crime scene's yellow tape. behind her — a sliver of woods.

familiar.

too familiar.

“-victim was discovered late this evening by hikers. the body bears signs of strangulation and unique markings consistent with the decades-old cold case known as the lakewood strangler-”

you can’t breathe.

you posted the story thirty minutes ago.

and the murder is a carbon copy.

every gruesome detail — ones you dug out from buried police reports and half-rotted forums — laid out, chillingly exact.

your phone buzzes again.

user 187 commented on your post:

you forgot the part where she begged.

the words claw into your chest, sharp enough to tear.

your phone slips from your shaking hands, thudding against the floor like a gunshot.

you’re frozen. paralyzed.

your body knows what your mind refuses to accept.

this isn’t a prank.

this isn’t coincidence.

this is real.

no one knew you were writing that story.

no one — except maybe—

you scroll with clumsy, desperate fingers.

user187 reblogged your post with the title:

next up: hollywood. tell me what she’ll scream.

your stomach lurches, bile burning the back of your throat.

because hollywood is the next case you were planning to write about.

and you haven’t told a single soul.

find parts of this series here !

a/n: next chapter is yummy trust🤞🏻thank you @owensbabygirl for proofreading ilyy

🏷: @drewswife @k4urltzx @courta13 @briizysturn @y2kstarr @chriscantwhisper @tezzzzzzzz @adorechris @cherryystemm @dolliraez @rriverscuomo @sturnsblogs @mattspillowprincess @mattsplaything @sturns-mermaid @auttysturnz @sonnyangelsweetiee @izzylovesmatt @ribbonlovergirl @k4urltzx @matts-girlfriend @pair-of-pantaloons @444sturns @weron1ka

divider by @anitalenia

this series is a work of fiction created for entertainment purposes only. all characters, events, and dialogue are entirely fictional and should not be interpreted as real. any similarities to real people or events are purely coincidental. credit and respect to all creators who’ve inspired similar works before me. I claim ownership only over my original writing, ideas, and interpretations. please do not repost, plagiarize, or steal. reblogs and love are always appreciated.

© zenithsturniolo

[riddlesrizzler]

𝘼 𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙩𝙝

𝘱𝘵.2 𝘰𝘧 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘊𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 𝘊𝘶𝘱

summary: A chance encounter leaves Mattheo Riddle obsessed with a girl who unknowingly turned his world upside down.

characters: ceo! mattheo. teacher! reader

warnings: none, just ceo! mattheo getting his world rocked.

word count: 1.3k

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The first time Mattheo had stepped into that coffee shop, it was only supposed to be for a moment. a mindless routine of caffeine and efficiency before he buried himself in another day of deals and deadlines. He had barely registered the soft hum of whatever jazz station had been playing that morning or the rich scent of espresso that curled into the air. An insignificant five minutes that didn't take away from his day, and yet those five minutes had turned into something with greater significance.

He had met her.

Well met might have not really been the right word with the catastrophe that followed the moment he had turned to the door, only to end in the result of her wearing most of his sumatra blend. The girl with the colorful sweater and eyes that shown with such intense guilt as she tried to hand him napkins as her perfect lips spilled apologises.

Y/N

She hadn't even really done anything that was extraordinary, he should have been livid that she had ruined his three thousand dollar shoes. But when she tucked a strand of lose hair behind her ear, there was something that started to stir within his chest. There was a lightness about her, a way that she carried herself that seemed effortless and unbothered, a stark contrast to the calculated world he had created.

Mattheo wasn't a man who dwelled on distractions. He didn't believe in fate, or serendipity, or any of those ridiculous notions that people seemed to cling onto which made them pathetic. Every success he had was built from careful planning, calculated moves, and ruthless ambition. Nothing about the life he led- his company, his reputation, his name- were left to chance.

But if Mattheo didn't believe in fate, then why the hell did he keep coming back to the coffee shop?

Monday, he convinced himself it was coincidence, he just needed something to get him through the day. Tuesday, he reasoned that the coffee here wasn't that terrible. Wednesday, he found himself sitting by one of the large glass windows, his fingers drumming against the heavy watch that sat on his wrist. Thursday, he started to wonder if she had been nothing more than a fever dream- something his own brain had created as he teetered between the thin line of exhaustion and stress. Friday, he had started to research different therapists in the area because the only logical explanation that he had for his behavior is that he had gone mad.

But then the bell above the door chimed as someone walked in, Mattheo felt annoyance grow as he turned his head up to see if maybe it was the girl. Cursing himself for doing it every time that bell rang, he was not better than those dogs in Pavlov's experiment. The air had shifted- like the world around him stopped rotating because through that door had walked in her.

There she was.

The girl who had walked through the door held so much power and yet she didn't even know it. She had somehow possessed the CEO to make him return to the tiny coffee at the end of the street in order to catch a glimpse of the radiancy that she held. But she had no earthly clue.

She was wearing a dress, not just any dress- a deep navy fabric, scattered with golden constellations, tiny galaxies stitched into place like they had been crafted just for her. The stars shimmered as she moved towards the register. She was a walking universe in the middle of the dimly lit cafe, utterly oblivious to the fact that Mattheo Riddle- cold, ruthless, untouchable- was currently forgetting how to breathe.

He didn't feel entirely in control of his body as he let go of the ceramic cup that he had been gripping tightly in his hand as he moved towards the girl who seemed ethereal, like she belonged in one of the galaxies that shown on her dress.

She was studying the menu, delicate fingers lightly tapping against the counter, lost in thought, Oblivious. Completely unaware that, for the past five days her presence has been haunting him like a ghost.

Mattheo let the silence stretch for a moment just long enough for anticipation to coil tight in his chest before he finally gathered the courage to speak, courage he normally had a never ending supply of.

"Not bad."

Her reaction was immediate- her head turning towards him, her hair flowing over her shoulder to show off the stars that hung from her ears. Her eyebrows raising in surprise.

"It's you," she said as a flicker of recognition flickered across her face, as she realized that the man in front of her was the reason she had to wash her colorful sweater three times in order to get the stain out.

"You looked better with the coffee stain on your sweater," he murmured, his voice smooth as his dark gaze flickers down to the dress that she was wearing.

For a second, she didn't say anything. She simply blinked as her lips began to part as if she was simply caught off guard. Mattheo's heart seizes as he regrets coming off so cold so quickly, but then it hit his ears. The most beautiful sound that he had ever heard, one that a chorus of angels couldn't even compare to. She had laughed, a soft melodic laugh.

"Well," she giggled, at his blunt opinion of her outfit. Mattheo couldn't remember the last time he had ever made anyone laugh. Cry? He had made ten people cry this week alone. But laughter? He couldn't even begin to pinpoint a time.

She gestures down to herself, "no coffee stains today, Just space."

His gaze traced over the galaxies stitched into her dress, as if seeing them again for the first time. Although she looked ethereal, Mattheo was unsure of why she would ever need such a dress.

"Space?"

She smiled and nodded her head, and he felt it- like the earth was tilting under his feet as they spoke.

"It's Space Day at my school," she explained enthusiastically. "I'm a teacher at Applewood Elementary School. My students would absloutely riot if I didn't look 'out of this world'," she laughed with a tilt of her head.

A teacher.

Mattheo wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he hadn't guessed teacher for her profession. But yet it made perfect sense to him with the way she smiled. She was a beacon of light, her presence practically screamed warm and inviting.

"Unbelievable," he mutters under his breath as he runs his hand through the dark curls that he had styled earlier that morning. He exhaled sharply as he felt frustration coil into his chest.

Mattheo Riddle, the cold and heartless CEO, had been rattled by a teacher of all people?

He groans as he turns down to look at her sweet expression- curious and completely unaware that she and thrown his world off its axis.

She studied him for a moment, biting her lip as the barista handed her the beverage that she had ordered before this interaction, clearing her throat as she spoke again.

"I never caught your name last week."

Mattheo's attention was suddenly seized by the fact that she was asking for his name. She was asking about him, she had remembered their encounter from last week, he felt his heart grow a little lighter.

"Mattheo Riddle," he introduced himself just like he would to any other business partner. His words cold and precise like his name wasn't just any average name, but yet a title of power.

"Well, Mattheo, it's nice to officially meet you when we both aren't wearing coffee," she giggled once again, her eyes sparkled with a friendly warmth that not even the brightest star could mimic.

Then, just like that, she turned and walked towards the exit, the golden specs on her dress once again caught in the light that poured in from the glass windows.

Mattheo clenches his jaw, watching as she disappeared through the door to probably head to work. He ran his hands down his face as a groan of annoyance escapes his lips.

Damn it.

He was in trouble.

[atypicalamortentia]

You Invite Them Back To Your Dorm

Synopsis - The boys reactions to you inviting them back to your dorm room.

Warnings - Slightly suggestive.

Notes - Characters aged up to 18+!

Word Count - 0.7k.

{Caffeinate Me}

You’re in the middle of a heated make-out session in the restricted section of the library with SEBASTIAN SALLOW when you ask him. He pulls away from your lips for a moment to breathe when you finally ask “do you want to come back to my dorm room?” Immediately, Sebastian nods his head. His fingers lace with yours and the next thing you know, you’re being dragged back to your dorm room. Sebastian pushes you into your dorm room without a care in the world, throwing you on to your bed before attaching his lips to your neck. It’s needless to say, it doesn’t take long before your clothes are scattered around the place and the brown-haired, freckled male is thrusting inside of you haphazardly.

You and OMINIS GAUNT are in the Undercroft practising some spells when you ask him. Ominis looks in your general direction, almost as if asking you to repeat your question again. “Ominis? Do you want to come or not?” Ominis nods his head and smiles lazily at you as you grab his hand and lead him out of the Undercroft. You lead him to your common room before pulling him in, mindlessly saying hello to all your friends. You and Ominis sit on your bed cuddling and just talk for hours, maybe you guys make-out a little bit, but Ominis feels uncomfortable taking it any further with your friends just outside the door. 

You’re helping GARRETH WEASLEY with one of his potion concoctions. You’re admiring him when the words just slip out of your lips. He looks at you, slightly stunned for a moment before grinning widely. “I’d love to accompany you back to your dorm room.” You help him finish cleaning up the mess he, of course, made before grabbing his cloak and pulling him to your dorm. When you reach your room, you pull the Weasley inside and close the door quietly behind the two of you before sitting on your bed and dangling your legs off the edge. “So,” Garreth asks with a cheeky grin. “What are we doing here?” You grin back at him and grasp the collars of his shirt, pulling him down on top of you and smashing your lips against his. The two of you stay like that for a long time, kissing and touching each other until eventually one of you pushes the other too far. 

You and LEANDER PREWETT are standing in the hallways just talking when you invite him back to your dorm room. The two of you had been shamelessly flirting with each other for weeks and you were tired of waiting for him to make the first move, so you put yourself out there. “You mean… You wanna go to your room… With me?” He asks, slightly taken back by your question. You nod and smile at him, holding out your hand for him to take should he agree. Of course he did, grabbing your hand gently and waiting for you to take him back to your room. The second you enter your dorm, you’re pushing the ginger onto your bed and kissing him passionately, taking him by surprise yet again. He couldn’t help but let out a soft moan into the kiss and allow his hands to trail your body. It’s safe to say he finally has the confidence to claim you as his after this. 

You are drinking firewhisky with AMIT THAKKAR when you drunkenly invite him back to your dorm room. You’re out on the astronomy tower looking at the constellations when you blurt it out. Amit raises a quizzical eyebrow at you, watching as you slur over your words. Being the gentleman Amit is, he accepts your invitation and picks you up bridal style to carry you back to your dorm, knowing full well you’d be falling all over the place if he let you walk on your own. He places you gently into your bed when you try to initiate something, letting your hands roam over his body as you place delicate kisses on his neck. “Not tonight sweetheart,” he mumbles, pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “For now you need some sleep. Don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you wake up in the morning.” You let out a grumble but nod, closing your eyes and falling asleep. True to his word, Amit was there when you woke up in the morning, ready to help you take care of your raging firewhisky hangover.  

[deadhands69]

Will you be my Valentine?: Heroes (fem characters)

How does your favorite hero act on Valentine’s day when they have a crush on you? fem characters edition ▷ masc version ▷ villain version Featuring: Mina Ashido, Kyoka Jiro, Ochako Uraraka, Tsuyu Asui, Rumi Usagiyama (Mirko), Laina Tsutsumi (Lady Nagant), Mei Hatsume (okay, not a hero but same side.)

Mina is soooo excited! She wasn't sure if she wanted to go out to dinner, a movie, or dancing with you so she bought tickets to all of them. The day of, she shows up at your door dressed for a fun night. Surprise! She helps you pick an outfit that will work for all of the stops then you're out the door!

The movie isn't as good as the previews made it look but that's okay. The two of you spend all of dinner laughing about it before heading out dancing.

How to handle this: Go along with it, it'll be fun! (maybe have a little caffeine first)

Jiro writes you a song. She's a bit shy about singing it at first but after spending so much time writing it, Denki hypes her up enough to go for it.

Denki she texts you asking if you can stop by for a bit. When you arrive, she invites you in and you notice she put a bit more effort into her hair and makeup than usual. After some nervous stalling, she sits across from you and begins to play. It's beautiful!

How to handle this: Let her know how much you appreciate the song and her, she really needs to hear it! Maybe suggest an activity you can do after, she was so worried you wouldn't like it that she didn't have a chance to plan anything else.

Ochako has always been super nice to you so you've had some idea that she liked you for a while. Well, you think. Maybe she's just that nice. Either way, it's not too much of a surprise when she asks if you'd like to go out for mochi and milk tea on Valentine's day Friday. She never really specifies if it's a date, but you're excited to go anyways. The two of you have so much fun, giggling as you walk around most of the evening. At the end of the night she kisses you, solidifying that yes, this was in fact a date.

How to handle this: Ask her on another date, preferably somewhere with sweets!

Tsuyu is a bit shy when asking you out, but wants to do it right. At first you thought something was wrong. She had been avoiding you and not making eye contact for days which is pretty out of character. Quietly, she asks if she can speak to you in private. Panic intensifies. You follow her away from the crowd and she stops, turns to you, and works up the courage to ask.

The date she planned is cute. Lunch at a new cafe and a walk around a botanical garden while you hold hands.

How to handle this: Be excited and happy to be there, she did the hard part (asking you) now enjoy the date. Also, maybe bring an extra jacket for her just in case it gets cold.

Mirko checked your astrology charts to make sure the two of you are compatible - you are! An almost perfect match! Don't recall telling her your birthday, location, or time of birth? Don't worry about that, she has it covered. Of course, you find all of this out Valentine's morning when she lets you know the two of you will be going on a cute date that evening. Yay!

At promptly 7pm, she picks you up in her SUV to drive off to the mountains. Again, you don't recall telling her your address but that's just a small detail she laughs off. After a few hours, she pulls into a clearing, throws a tarp and some blankets on the frosty ground, and cozies up for some stargazing. She knows a good amount about constellations and can tell you the stories behind them which is cute. She also seems to know a good amount about you because she brought all of your favorite snacks, drinks, and music for the drive.

How to handle this: You have two options: go along with it and have a girlfriend who is obsessed with you or tell a trusted adult as soon as you have cell service.

Lady Nagant has been hanging out in your general vicinity all day, sparing you the occasional glance while trying to seem busy with other things. She's not. The entire time, she's been trying to find the balance of appearing like she's not soft/doesn't care about these types of things and wanting you to notice her. When it's time to go home, she lingers briefly trying to find some excuse to spend more time together.

How to handle this: Ask her to spend time with you, she'll crack immediately.

Mei forgot it was Valentines day. That is, until she saw everyone walking around with oversized bouquets and stuffed animals. Her eyes widen and she freezes, recalling a conversation you had with friends last week about not having Valentine's day plans. You didn't seem to care too much, but seeing everyone else with their overdone confessions of love, she imagines you must feel, well, kind of like she does right now.

Quickly, she grabs a prototype for you that she's been working on for a while now. Adding a few finishing touches and a cute card she made from printer paper and markers lying around her workspace, she runs out the door. It's only 9pm, there's still time! She even stops to shower and change (!!!!) on the way to your place.

When she arrives at your door, slightly out of breath, you're already in your cozy clothes, very much dressed for a night in. She doesn't mind, she thinks you look adorable. You invite her in. Weeks ago, you found something that reminded you of her, but you hadn't had a chance to actually give it to her yet. Now's the perfect time!

How to handle this: Cut her a little slack for being late, it's still a miracle she figured out what day it is.

masterlist

[justaslytheringal]

How to spot a... Hogwarts edition

How to spot a Slytherin

Common habitats: gothic cathedrals, 24-hour coffee shops, antique stores, art galleries, forbidden forests, the quietest spot in libraries, cemeteries, wandering around the city at night

Common behaviours: sarcastic, stubborn, bottles up a lot of their emotions, drinks coffee in the evening, swears a lot, has a small but close social circle, likes to dress up, has expensive taste, may suffer from resting b**** face, did I say sarcastic?

Other attributes: trench coats, leather journals, marble statues, fancy teacups, family heirlooms, black silk, French perfume, sly smirks, black and white photography, champagne

How to spot a Ravenclaw

Common habitats: overstocked libraries, fancy stationary shops, mysterious castles, vintage stores, under the stars, local museums, forests, quirky cafes

Common behaviours: writes pretty notes, has the best conversations at 2am, prefers nights in, gets frustrated if they don't get something first try, caffeine addicts, prefers cold weather, listens to classical music, has a million half-finished creative projects, likes to stargaze

Other attributes: leather bound notebooks, hot coffee, old books, the arts, fountain pens, tortoiseshell glasses, constellations, ink stains, vintage blazers, stolen glances, raindrops on windows

How to spot a Hufflepuff

Common habitats: independent book shops, cosy cafes, meadows, thrift stores, petting zoos, drive-in cinemas, local bakeries, snuggled up under their blanket

Common behaviours: always has a warm drink in hand, bakes when stressed, holds the door for strangers, tends to stick to their comfort shows/movies instead of watching something new, loves plants, dances in the kitchen

Other attributes: handwritten letters, fuzzy socks, quirky mugs, old sweaters, pressed flowers, bubble baths, vintage jewellery, sunlight cracking through curtains

How to spot a Gryffindor

Common habitats: outdoor concerts, record stores, old playgrounds, by the fireplace, retro diners, campsites, petting zoos, light festivals, treehouses, secret gardens

Common behaviours: gets along with everybody, takes the risk - no matter the odds, has an unbridled passion for oddly specific things, stands up for what's right, loves to make people laugh, nice but can come across as flirty

Other attributes: gold jewellery, fireworks, hot chocolate, quidditch matches, friendship bracelets, endless laughter, crunchy leaves on an autumn morning

[brandileigh2003]

Coffee shop or bakery fic recs. Let me know what I missed including self recs

please give these authors love, fandom engagement with writers is down and it means more than you know.

-Like Real People Do by @third_crow ft disability and raising Harry

-Au Pif by sreka, @yumenouveau @smodernlife pining, fluff misunderstandings

-Blue Moon Café by @lazuli-moon ft raising teddy, chronic pain/illness, non-binary Sirius

-Found Heaven by @madefortherain University texting

-what a wonder (what a waste) by peachyybabe @lavenderhaze mcd magical au ft raising teddy

-Half Moon Chocolate by @brujabanter magical au no voldy

-The Barista, the Burglar, and the Sofa by orphan_account fluff au

-Number Neighbours by @moonsblack texting fic

-Be silent like deep water by @her-smile-forges-galaxies ft deaf remus

-The Barista by ever3tt au with pining

-Leather and Cinnamon by @tracingpatternswrites raising teddy modem au

-Of Caffeine Addictions and Nail Polish by @blueAzalea ft raising teddy and moonflower friendship

-Bean Genie by bethanlovescoffee fluffy au

-Love by the Seaside by viwrites @just--vi ft fluff and chronic

-i want to build something permanent by rekindled University ft trans remus

-Fractured Skies by orphan_account ft deaf Sirius and epileptic remus

-Blends by rvltn909 pining and banter

-Best Friend's Brother by bizarrestars @starsworth love the moonwater friendship, fluff with some angst

-Tip Jar by @starling011 ft chronic illness and moonflower friendship

-labyrinth by moonymoment @mayescapade exes to lovers

-I'll paint a mural of your smile by irlhawke ft mental health, trans remus

-Finding Warmth by Moony @adashofinspiratio blind Sirius and deaf remus

-Good Old Fashioned Lover Boys by Hell_Again trans remus, disability and mental health

-Tartan Books & Longing Looks by Lia @liaskisses cute with banter

Not sure if it technically counts but I like it and they spend time together there --ten reasons (to go to michigan) by @greyeyedmonster-18

Have 2 bonus flower shops:

-The Language of Flowers by B1ackCatChatsBack ft disability and pining

-my jokes are my armour, my kindness is my sword by @littleoldrachel ft disability and trans Remus, they're so cute

Recs from others:

early morning, coffee cups by alarainai bakery

-Constellations and Coffee by AisForAlex

-The Web by @lesmardisbleus mcd

-Back to September by @WriterwithaWindow

-oat milk latte by @vinylsonthewall

-Sorry I'm Late - I Was Searching For You by @euripidestrousers

--rec from @missmoonfrost

-Spilling Coffee on Strangers by fictional_simp09

[sv3t1ana]

⇜ previous chapter ⋮ next chapter ⇝

➤ a multi-chapter fic in which Satoru and Suguru are your childhood best friends. Reuniting as adults, you realize you're in love with them both. Will they make you choose? S. Gojo x fem reader x S. Geto

WARNINGS ᯓ saying ily during sex, oral (f receiving)

WORD COUNT ᯓ 829

Chapter 4. Gravity

It was a quiet Sunday morning, the kind where the city whirs beneath the weight of early risers and caffeine addicts, when your heart drops. Your turn the corner, eyes half-lidded from the early hour, ready for the familiar warmth of your daily coffee.

Suguru.

He stands outside the corner store, his figure framed by the rising sun. For a moment the world pauses, and it felt like you two never drifted apart. He never really left.

He noticed you immediately, that subtle shift in his posture, the instant recognition, the way his eyes settled on you. It makes something twist inside you, a connection that felt so distant now so close again.

“Well, well” he says, his voice calm. He stepped closer, his earthy scent and the crisp morning air suffocating you, surrounding you in an embrace. “Look who we have here. I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”

You could only stare at him, breath catching in your throat.

“What are you doing here?”

He tilted his head, his eyes softening. “I live here now,” he says simply, like it should make perfect sense. “I moved for work.”

“Work?” You glanced at him trying to wrap your mind around the reality of it. Suguru, in the same city as you. Not just a passing figure, but you really weren’t dreaming, and he was really here.

His lips curving with his signature lazy grin. “Yeah, dropped out to start fresh. Figured I’d follow where things were taking me.”

Here it was again, the gravitational pull of past desires realigning in the most unexpected of ways. Suguru was no longer a distant star. He’s suddenly in front of you, a constellation you lost drawing you close. While the world breathed with the same rhythm, the spaces between objects collapsed on themselves, pulling together the fragments of what once was into something new.

You and Satoru were still tangled in the threads of each other, bounded by the quiet joy of rediscovering what you once had and never realized. His name being the most frequent in your messages, a pulse refusing to fade. He was the ache you felt rediscovering an old song that was once your favorite.

But now, Suguru stepped closer, sweeping you under to guide you once again. “I’m not the same person I was,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “But I think you might be the same, or at least the same person I’ve been looking for.”

It was like a breath held in anticipation, the sweetness in his tone, a pull toward the unspoken. It wasn’t just Suguru, but the way the world seemed to open up with him in front of you. He was a map you wanted to explore again.

Later that day, Satoru’s name appears on your phone, a message lighting up the screen.

“Hey, what’s up? Miss me yet?”

You laughed softly, fingers hesitating over the screen as you relished in his familiar warmth, slipping into something you knew all too well. The connection you had with him only pulled the threads tighter with every exchange, every laugh, every glance.

When you’re with him, everything falls into place. It’s like the universe just clicks, like things that were scattered in time come together in this perfect alignment. There’s no awkwardness or hesitation, just the familiarity of someone who’s always been there, even when you didn’t realize how much you needed them.

And maybe that’s what it is. Suguru’s unexpected arrival, it’s not just him. It’s the way the world keeps pulling you back into the same cadence. The things you lost finding their way back to you.

That’s why you decide to visit Satoru the following weekend. It was like no time passed in the days spent without him. He always took your burdens on his shoulders, navigated your obstacles for you. That’s why it accidentally slipped when you said you loved him.

It was in the heat of the moment, at least that’s the excuse you gave to yourself. Tears brimmed your eyes when he made out with you after giving you the most liberating, mind-numbing orgasm with his mouth. You were having aftershocks, coming down from your high when he stuffed your deprived hole full and leaned in to kiss you through it.

“Fuck, ‘Toru,” he fucked you deep, senseless in the way you felt intoxicated every time he hit your cervix, stretching you out with his languid pace.

“’Toru, I love you,” you muttered between kisses.

He stilled inside you, unblinking as he asked you to repeat yourself.

You just couldn’t do it, your Freudian slip masking your face in a deep blush.

It took until he said it back, fucking you with purpose. Grunting like an animal, and repeating it over and over as he released deep inside you.

It was a cathartic experience, an unreal moment shared between you two and only you two. You couldn’t ever imagine sharing this with another person.

tags: @fortunatelyfurrygiver

[snowbellsystem]

types of people

midnight: soft eyes, tired faces, empty coffee cups, witty jokes and banter, sad smiles, sagging statures, sweaters in abundance, wild plans, good grades

dawn: soft makeup palettes, quiet words, pastel paintings, dainty laughter, inside jokes, younger siblings, morning people, fancy teas, swishy skirts

noon: "too bright", large smiles, loud, infectious laughter, sunflowers, denim, hands hiding in pockets, cigarettes, okay grades, napping under trees, pointing out constellations, bucket hats and bandannas

dusk: falling asleep, cozy video games, writing essays hyped on caffeine, blankets and pillows, lofi music, floral/botanical print fabric, jewel tones, flannel, wet grass, daydreams, taking notes

twilight: books, endless notebooks, astrology obsessions, english degree, hot cocoa by the fireplace, cold nights, snowfalls, cold hands, stage fright, drama/theater, large rooms with high ceilings, large dreams, drapery curtains

[castiwls]

back again!! would you do something with sam winchester perhaps where sam does something that makes reader realize that she’s in love with him and then skips to confessing and such?? love ur work SMMM

you are in love - s.w

Pairings; Sam x fem!reader

Synopsis; One coffee changes (almost) everything

Warnings; fluff (lots)

Notes;Tysmm!! I love this idea so much i really need to write for sam more <3 Also I highly suggested listening to 'you are in love' (by taylor swift) while reading this as I kinda based it on that song:)

Masterlist

'Small talk, he drives Coffee at midnight The light reflects The chain on your neck He says, "Look up" And your shoulders brush No proof, one touch But you felt enough'

The night breeze was cool against your skin as you settled into the grass beside Sam. “Here.” He passed you a takeaway cup which had been sitting beside him. You thanked him before taking a sip of the warm drink. “Is coffee at midnight a good idea?” you asked tilting your head slightly. Sam shrugged looking over to you. “Not like we were gonna sleep anyways.”  

The two of you sat in relative silence, making small talk as you slowly finished your drinks. You felt a small buzz from the caffeine slowly start to warm your body. “Y/n. Look.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sam put down his drink before he pointed up to the sky. As he moved his shoulder brushed yours. You followed his finger and squinted slightly. “What am I meant to be looking at?” 

Sam let out a small laugh before leaning slightly closer and moving his finger in a pattern. His finger traced lines in the sky as he spoke. “Perseus was a Greek hero who killed Medusa. After He killed Medusa he found Andromeda who was chained to a rock, her parents wanted to sacrifice her to a sea monster. He saved her and later they got married.” You listened as Sam continued to explain how the two had become constellations and what they meant.

As he spoke you found yourself more and more captivated by his story. His smile seemed to grow as he spoke listing more and more information on the myth. As you watched him speak you felt yourself slowly become more and more captivated by him. The stars reflected off his eyes making them glisten slightly. 

 A small shiver ran through you as a particularly cold breeze ran through the area. 

“Are you cold?” The question brought you out of the almost trance-like state you had been in. You quickly looked away and cleared your throat. ‘No. No im fine.” Sam frowned before moving to take off his jacket. “Oh. Sam you don’t have to im-” He shook his head before cutting you off. “No. no, it's fine seriously.” He smiled as he wrapped the jacket around your shoulders.

His smile sent a slight flush to your cheeks. The jacket smelt like him, something which sent butterflies wild in your stomach. “That's a beautiful story.” You quietly spoke turning fully to face him. Sam smiled and you could have sworn a small blush dusted his cheeks. 

After a moment he stood before offering you a hand. “It’s late, we should probably head back.” You nodded allowing him to pull you up. 

You stood for a moment mulling over your thoughts. Were you in love with Sam?

It had been a few weeks since the night in the field and your feelings had only grown more.  You knew you had to say something soon or you were gonna go mad. The last few weeks had been with seemingly case after case but you finally had time to yourselves. 

Dean had wandered off to a bar a few hours ago leaving just you and Sam in the bunker. It was now or never. “Sam.” You called as you walked into the map room. Sam looked up from his laptop with a small smile. “Hey, what's up?” He shuts his laptop and turns his attention to you. 

“I uh..I need to talk to you about something.” He nodded before gesturing to the seat beside him. Your hand shook slightly as you sat down and placed your hands on your lap. Taking a breath you tried to push your nerves down before looking up to him.

“I don’t really know how to say this” You laughed nervously, beginning to play with your hands in your lap. You knew you had to say something now or you might not get the chance for god knows how long. 

Sam watched you for a moment equally confused and concerned by your behaviour. Leaning forward he took your hands into his drawing your attention back to him. He gently squeezed your hand. 

Taking a deep breath you opened your mouth. “I think im in love with you, but I don't wanna make it weird if you don't feel the same way an-” Your rambling was cut off by someone pressing their lips against yours.

It took a moment for your mind to catch up and register that the person kissing you was Sam. After a moment he pulled away moving to brush a strand of hair away from your face. 

“Took you long enough.” Both you and Sam flew away from each other at the sound of another person’s voice. Dean leaned against the wall with a smirk he waved a hand in your direction before pushing off the wall. As he walked past he clapped his brother on the back before sending you a wink and wandering down the hallway. “Remember to use protection lovebirds.” He yelled before disappearing around the corner.

Sam shook his head as you let out a quiet laugh. “Truthfully,” He started leaning in again. His hand moved to cup your check. “I think I’ve been in love with you since we met.” He gently ran his thumb across your cheek and you felt a slight flush on your cheeks.

His words left you feeling slightly giddy as he connected your lips again. 

You’d never been more grateful for coffee in your life.

'You are in love True love You are in love'

[unsuperingyournatural]

determined to win

Pedro Pascal x Actress!Reader / featuring Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Karl Urban, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Misha Collins

flirting, allusions to...stuff

The lot was humming with the kind of energy that only came after hours of shooting on a show like The Boys—chaotic, irreverent, and a little too caffeinated for everyone’s own good. The crew was flipping setups, shuffling gear, calling out camera specs while makeup artists darted in and out with brushes and blotters. You were parked in your chair just off set, content for now to recharge in costume, your boots still on, gloves folded neatly beside you.

Your suit clung tight, the zipper at your collar loosened just enough to breathe. You’d been shooting most of the day—blood squibs, stunt cues, shouting across a smoldering set piece with Karl and Jensen in full Butcher and Soldier Boy gear. The adrenaline had long since ebbed, leaving behind the comfortable drag of fatigue. Your phone rested in your palm, the screen lighting up every so often as you scrolled in idle loops.

Off to the side, the showdown between Jensen and Karl was reaching gladiatorial levels. Backgammon had never looked so personal. Jensen leaned forward, jaw tight, eyes narrowing with each roll of the dice. Karl lounged like a king with a winning hand, expression calm and casual, that classic New Zealand drawl giving every jab a little extra charm.

“You gonna roll sometime this year, or are you still mapping constellations on the board?” Karl asked, sipping from a can with far too much smugness.

Jensen didn’t look up. “Keep talking, Urban. I’m one roll away from erasing you from the bracket.”

“Mate, you said that three rolls ago.”

Jeffrey Dean Morgan had the best seat in the house—in a director’s chair nearby, Coke in one hand, Sour Patch Kids in the other. Jared stood a few feet off, arms crossed and smiling as he watched the game. Pedro, suited up for his cameo, leaned against a grip stand just outside the cluster, phone in hand, thumbing casually through his messages while keeping one ear tuned to the surrounding chatter, amusement flickering now and then across his face.

Then Misha appeared, striding in with his usual whirlwind energy.

Fresh from his own scene, costume jacket open and hair pushed back, Misha slipped into the conversation with a force of nature grin. He lingered just behind Jensen, soaking in the rhythm of the conversation, then zeroed in on the most animated corner of the group—where Jeff and Jared were chatting.

Your phone buzzed.

Pedro: Send help.

Your lips twitched.

Pedro: He's deep in a story about rescuing a possum with a French accent. I'm barely hanging on.

You bit the inside of your cheek to hold back a laugh and glanced up. Sure enough, Pedro was standing just as before, now with Misha planted squarely at his side, animatedly holding court with Jeff and Jared while directing a steady stream of commentary to all three. Pedro's body was angled politely toward the group, head nodding occasionally, lips curving into the kind of laugh you could instantly recognize as courteous. Not fake. Just... polished. Polite. Reserved. He glanced down at his phone between chuckles, playing it off so smoothly it was almost impressive.

Another buzz.

Pedro: He's doing the possum voice. I think the possum just offered JP a cigarette.

Time for you to step in then and do the opposite of your character: save the day.

You stretched your legs out slowly and rose with care, joints popping quietly beneath the tight weave of your suit. The movement was deliberate, measured. No one gave you a second glance. That was the point.

Just as you were about to veer toward Pedro’s personal sitcom, a familiar voice rang out.

“Hey!”

You glanced over to find Jensen pointing dramatically toward the gaming table. “I need you in range. Two feet. Minimum. You’re my unofficial lucky charm now, and I’m not letting Urban mess with my stats.”

Jensen thought you were some kind of lucky charm of his now. Apparently, he finally beat Jared at some app game they played while on set, and it just happened to be the moment you plopped down into the cast chair next to him. A second victory happened when you appeared in front of him, kicking at his boot with yours, demanding to know why he told your PA to change your pineapple pizza order to something more palatable. Ever since then, if he engaged on any competitive games on set, your presence within a short range was required. You only humored him because it kept him from getting together with Jared and pranking the hell out of you—a deal you absolutely insisted on when you saw the wicked gleam in his green eyes at the word prank.

You raised a brow, deadpan. “Give me a minute. And by the way, I’m charging you for this. Full rate.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “Just don’t let him throw his smug at me unchecked.”

“Love you too, Ackles,” Karl muttered, not looking up from the board.

You turned your steps toward Pedro and the others, your smile reserved but sly. Pedro clocked your approach immediately, though he didn’t move. His laugh timed perfectly with another of Misha’s stories, but his gaze flicked to you like a tether snapping taut.

“Hey, JareBear,” you said with an affectionate nudge to Jared’s arm. “Still letting Misha pull you into a one-man play?”

“I mean, it’s kinda impressive,” Jared said, grinning. “Possum’s got range.”

Jeff snorted, shaking his head. “Only Misha could turn a possum into a full character arc.”

“Excuse you,” Misha replied, deadpan. “That possum had layers. Tragic backstory. Existential dilemma. A deep love of unfiltered Gitanes.”

You nodded once. “While I'm sure it will be a strong Tonys contender, I’m stealing an audience member. Pascal, put your phone down and escort a lady back to the demanding asshat who's yanking on her shackles.”

Jeff lowered his sunglasses to look at you. "A lady?"

You shot him a mock glare. "Put a cork in it, Morgan." He snickered and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

Pedro glanced up, his expression one of mock-surprise. “What do you need me for?”

“Testing a theory,” you said. “Seeing if you’re Karl’s good luck charm. Ackles is convinced I’m his, but I’m trying to disprove it with science.”

Jared laughed. "Oof. Ackles, you hearing this?"

"Loud and clear," Jensen called without missing a beat, not looking up from the board.

Pedro fell into step beside you with an easy nod. "I’m just here to observe the carnage," he said lightly. "Call it moral support—maybe even strategic sabotage."

“That’s the spirit,” you murmured, lips twitching. “Let’s go rig the board.”

Pedro's mouth tilted into a slow, knowing grin. “What can I say? You're a terrible influence.”

You tilted your head in the direction of the gaming table, a silent signal he picked up on instantly. He moved when you did, matching your pace with a casual familiarity, as if he’d been doing it for years without needing to think twice.

"Thanks," he said lowly once you were out of earshot.

“No problem,” you said. “You owe me, though.”

“Anything specific you have in mind?”

His voice dropped into that deep, velvet register, the one that always felt like a palm sliding down your spine. The last time you heard him speak like that was the other night when he—you stopped that thought in its tracks and quietly cleared your throat.

Not the time. Not the place.

“I’ll think of something,” you replied airily.

“I’m sure you will.”

You tried to sneak a gentle nudge to the seat of his pants with your boot as you walked. He dodged it effortlessly, smirking.

“Nice try.”

You had to stop yourself from sticking your tongue out. You remembered what happened the last time you did that.

“About freaking time,” Jensen said as you both approached. “Thought you were gonna make me forfeit.”

“You dragged me off a perfectly good break. This is on you.” You gestured to Pedro. “And I brought your doom with me.”

Pedro dropped into the chair beside Karl, nodding cordially. “Let’s see what you got.”

“Glad to have ya, mate,” Karl said, clapping him on the shoulder.

Jensen narrowed his eyes at you. “You really gonna do me like that?”

You looked him dead in the eye. “Yeah. I’d do you like that. Hell, I’m doing you like that right now.”

He cocked an eyebrow, instantly leaning into the innuendo. “At least buy me dinner first.”

A low snicker came from Karl, who didn’t bother hiding it.

You ignored both of them and sank into the chair between Jensen and Pedro, folding one leg over the other with practiced ease.

Your phone buzzed.

Pedro: "Doing you like that right now"... Huh. I seem to remember you saying something similar the other night on my couch—but you were much bossier.

You stiffened ever so slightly, adjusting your posture rather than reacting outwardly. But your fingers were already moving. You tapped out a reply—letting the words drip slow and deliberate into the silence between you.

You: You didn’t seem to mind... in fact, I think you liked being told exactly what to do. If the way you kept begging for it is any indication.

His phone buzzed, and you saw the subtle shift in his posture as he felt the vibration, glanced down, and brushed his thumb across the screen with studied calm. His throat bobbed with a quick swallow, and he shifted slightly in his seat, fingers tapping once against his leg before stilling—a faint blush creeping just beneath the scruff along his jaw.

Then the bubble appeared—three dots blinking into existence. They vanished. Reappeared. Vanished again.

The quiet little smile pulling at your lips came unbidden, small but satisfied. You knew you’d landed your hit—even without seeing his face. The game might’ve been backgammon, but this? This was checkmate—and you were determined to win.

[thirstywoso]

Masterlist

Hi guys, decided to start writing again even though I severely lack motivation half of the time. I'm up for writing any kind of stories but promts are appreciated. I'll probably not write for players I don't know much about but send your requests even if they aren't on the list because I've probably forgotten some.

Players I'd write for

Jessie Fleming

Niamh Charles

Open to see completed and upcoming works

Completed

Jessie Fleming

Series

Love me like a sailor part 1

Roses have thorns part 1 part2

Five years down, forever to go 18+ part 1 part 2 part 3

Lessons in Photography 18+ part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 - finished

Caffeine for the heartache part 1

One-shots

Constellations 18+

Forget about your girlfriend 18+

Take me out to the ball game - fluff

Patience is a virtue 18+

Modern Loneliness 18+

Colour outside the lines -fluff

Mile High 18+

Niamh Charles

Fruastration 18+

In the works

FYDFTG - Jessie Fleming part 4 (18+)

For a good time call... - Jessie Fleming (18+)

Unnamed - Jessie Fleming + Niamh Charles (18+)

Caffeine for the heartache part 2 - Jessie Fleming

Bartender - Jessie Fleming

I have a few other ideas I'm working on too

Back burner

(doesn't mean they aren't coming just either have others I'm prioritising because I have limited writing time or don't have current motivation for them this may mean fics may move between in progress and back burner)

Roses have thorns (part three)

Unnamed - Niamh Charles(18+)

Colour outside the lines- Jessie Fleming pt2

Ghost of you - Jessie Fleming

Dirty little secret - Jessie Fleming (18+)

Feel free to request a synopsis for any of the fics here or send requests that I will get to eventually unless I specifically reply saying that I won't. If you've sent a request that isn't answered then I apologise but it means eventually it's coming and I'll reply when it's out.

[hugsandchaos]

Sometimes, I really think that Danny meeting Luna before she turned into Nightmare Moon would be pretty awesome because

Luna: No one appreciates my beautiful night… They all just sleep through it like it’s of no importance!

Danny, currently running on caffeine from staying up for 3 nights stargazing and frantically trying to hide the entire alphabet, punctuation, and number system he created based off of stars: HSHVBHSCJR— SOMEONE’S HERE!!! HIDE THE SPACE NERD STUFF!!!

And once he realizes that he can be completely open about his space obsession with Luna, it’s just

And Luna’s so happy that someone appreciates the night sky so much that they actually made a sort of written constellation language.

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝕭𝖊𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖐

Derek danforth x gender neutral reader

Summary: as Derek’s personal assistant, it’s your job to do whatever you need to in order to make your boss’ day run smoothly.

This is like a continuation of the other story that I wrote for Derek, but can also be read as a standalone.

You can also read this on wattpad or ao3

Warnings: gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Smut! Oral sex (reader giving). Dom Derek. Boss x advisor relationship. Sorry for bad grammar. Sorry if it’s cringe. Enjoy :)

Word counts: 3000+

The coffee pot is already halfway empty when you walks into the staff kitchen at half past eleven, the handle of your green and white spotted mug hanging loosely from your fingertips. You nod a greeting at a coworker of yours, scrolling through her Blackberry as she sips from her own orange mug, and step up to the counter. Setting your cup down on the linoleum surface, you grab the pot and fill the cup two-thirds with the liquid energy that doesn’t work as well as it used to.

The office is abuzz with the usual hustle and bustle. People huddle around the coffee machine, tapping away at keyboards, and discussing weekend plans.

You could hear whispers barely audible from behind you.

You strut past, your chin held high. You catch their stares but don’t flinch.

They are more than likely talking about the purple constellation that adorned your neck.

Courtesy of the esteemed boss, Mr. Danforth. They are like a badge of honor, they show how dedicated to your job you were.

You open the cabinet overhead and digs out three packets of sugar and a stirrer. Tossing them next to your mug, you traverse the small space to the fridge and pull open the door to grab the hazelnut creamer off the side. When you turns around, closing the fridge door with your elbow, Mickey is squeezing into the room around the woman as she leaves.

“Need a boost already?” Mickey asks with a bit of laughter in his voice.

Mickey is one of the members of the UDG and, although he and you aren’t particularly close outside of the office, he makes for good company during the day.

You offers up a smile before returning your attention to your coffee. “I’ve been running around all morning coordinating the arrival plans of various investors,” you explain, opening the creamer and filling your mug the rest of the way. “And there’s that joint meeting with Production after lunch so I can’t risk passing out.”

Putting the creamer aside, he tears open all three packets of sugar at once and pours them in.

Mickey hums sympathetically even though he’ll be sitting in on the meeting as well. He takes a quick look at the side of your neck, rolling his eyes at the indecency in trying at least to hide obvious things. He goes to grab a cup of greek yogurt with his name written along the top and side in thick, black marker, nabbing the creamer on his way to the fridge to put it back.

You gently stir your coffee to dissolve the sugar. You curl your fingers around the handle, careful so they don’t brush against the burning stoneware.

“Long night, eh?” He said while glancing back quickly at your neck with his eyes.

“Oh, you have no idea.” your eyes gleaming as you remembered the party that occurred the night before.

You raised the mug in a wave and laughed at the annoyed pinch of Mickey’s eyebrows. Lifting the mug to your lips, you take a sip off your coffee as you turn to walk through the floor back to your own office. It’s still much too hot, and you may have overdone it on the sugar, but you need the caffeine to kick in sooner rather than later.

You walk past, triumphant, leaving behind your coworkers still whispering behind your back, unapologetically proud. Because sometimes, in the corporate jungle, you’ve got to wear your bruises with pride.

The department is in a casual disarray with the preparations for the afternoon meeting, the potential launch of a new line of products the main stressor. It’s still rather early in discussion; all of the serious panicked overtime work won’t happen for another couple months.

Taking another sip of your coffee before placing your mug down on the coaster you drunkenly stole from a sports bar a few months ago, you drag over your tablet. You tap and drag your stylus over the screen until you pull up your email. There’s already five new emails in your inbox.

You sigh from annoyance.

At the light call of your name, you push out of your lazy lean over your desk and straighten up. Turning over your shoulder, you lock eyes with your boss. The slightly older man rests against the open doorway, a hand tucked into the pocket of his light green slacks. He wears a light smile that quirks into something of a smirk.

His pupils were dilated.

The fucker was already having fun without you.

“Yes, Mr. Danforth?” you answer, fully facing your boss with your head resting on the back of your hands closed with your fingers intertwined. Your eyes start to wander toward the floor but you drag them back up to the older man’s face.

Your boss looks you up and down with purpose. “Come into my office for a moment, please?” He talked with that preppie teenage snot voice that you’ve come to like more and more.

“Now?” You hide a grin behind your hands. You could hear footsteps of other coworkers.

“If you have the time.”

Nodding, you keep your eyes on your boss as the older man steps out of the doorway and walks across the hallway to his own office. Once he’s out of sight, you heave in a deep breath.

You grab your coffee, taking one last drink while it’s still warm because you know you’re not going to be back before it cools.

For being the CEO of a ‘successful’ company at the young age of twenty-eight, Derek Danforth has a unique head on his shoulders.

As his personal advisor, you know a lot of Derek’s quirks — the signs he’s not as indefinitely happy as he seems and wading in stress. Signs like the way his eyes were iced over a moment ago, and like the way his fingers twitched where they hid in his pocket.

And it’s your job to keep Derek ‘in check’.

It had started with a stealthy look during a meeting, when you were still relatively new to the job.

Then with a stolen smile in the hallway.

Then with a light exchange of words while you were still working at night.

To then sex whenever the two of you wanted to.

Every encounter was a risk (at least for you in the beginning), but the thrill and the passion had overwhelmed you two like a stormy wave.

You step into Derek’s office, eyes on the tips of your shoes. You drag the door shut and twist the lock behind your back without raising your chin.

“Yes, Sir?”

Derek’s fingers tap along the surface of his desk, the skips in rhythm a confirmation that he’s under stress. They stop, and then you hear the slide of a computer mouse over a mouse pad followed by a click and a flurry of typing.

And you wait, playing with your fingers behind your back where Derek can’t see. (Although he probably knows that you are fidgeting. You always had a problem with fidgeting.)

The tip tap of Derek’s fingers moving over the keys echoes in the spacious expanse of his office and the lack of immediate attention leaves you to hover between alertness and disconnect.

“Come sit,” Derek says at last, tone conversational.

You lets yourself disconnect a little more, the command enough to push you into a pleasant haze. You bobs your head in a nod. “Yes, Sir.”

Derek isn’t one for flair but the visitor’s chairs in his office have cushions like clouds. You leave a subtle hint every once in a while that you want to know where they came from but Derek has yet to divulge.

You want to reach out to touch the back of one of the two chairs, but you keep your hands to yourself as you round the desk and stop at Derek’s left. You catch a glimpse of Derek’s desk as you drop to your knees.

There was some strange paper that looked like a sort of message but you had no time to read it as the paper was instantly crushed by Derek’s fingers and thrown to the trash.

Derek sinks his fingers into your hair with an approving hum.

A quiet exhale blows over your lips. You lean into the touch, letting your eyes fall shut as you’re petted. When your mind starts to wander, you lose track of time, so you don't know how many minutes pass before Derek turns in his chair and guides you between his spread legs.

“Do you mind helping me out?” Derek asks in a needy voice, massing his fingers into your nape.

You hum, pleased. The fingers at your neck press harder and you pull your eyes open. “Of course.”

Derek’s hand leaves your neck and travels to his belt.

“Actually...” you meet Derek’s eyes for the first time since entering his office. The heady gaze of hunger makes your cheeks tint and your heart soar. At the quirk of an eyebrow, you know to continue. “I was waiting until after the meeting but I have a proposal for you.”

Derek’s right eyebrow raises to join the left. He leans back in his chair and props one of his elbows up on an arm rest. “Show me, then.”

You rise to your feet. You preen under Derek’s attention, squirming cutely as you undoe the button and zip of your pants and inches them down to your knees, along with your underwear. Waddling to face the desk, you spare a glance back at your boss before moving his laptop off to the side.

Resting your weight onto your elbows, you leans over the desk with your unbuttoned slacks held up by spread thighs. You swipe your tongue over your lips and shifts your weight onto one arm, reaching back with the other to spread yourself open for Derek to see.

The chair creaks a bit when Derek raises out of it.

“You’ve been stressed as of lately and it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it to me. I was hoping I could—”

“Quiet.”

Pressing your forehead against the desk, you bite back another whimper and clamp your lips shut.

Derek’s fingers are cold as they trail down the slight exposure of your back and over the curve of your ass. Already properly ready to take him thanks to you.

“How many times have you come today?” He rubs his finger up and down.

You shake your head.

Clicking his tongue, Derek bears his hand down on your ass, the slap light but scolding.

Your breath hitches and you exhale out a small giggle, soaring a little higher after the hit. “Zero.” You answer properly.

“I’d love to fuck you loose and then turn you over the other side of my desk. Unlock the door and let anyone who comes in see how beautifully you gape.”

Whimpering, you clench around nothing under the effect of his finger. Derek rubs circles into the small of his back, shushing you under his breath.

“You want it that badly, eh?”

His words get lost in the clouds filling the space between your ears, making his voice a dull noise that sounds like it’s happening outside the walls of the office.

“Sweetheart?”

Giggling, you press your cheek into the desk and tries to look up at your boss.

Derek pokes the tip of his nose and chuckles when you scrunches it. “You went down further than I thought you would,” he mumbles to himself. “That’s fine. I guess we both need it.”

You stare at him starry-eyed, grin uncontrollable, as Derek retrieves his fingers and yanks your pants up.

Beginning to work at his belt, Derek nods at his advisor. “On your knees”

A part of you wants to whine at the command — wants Derek to touch you, wants to be able to touch yourself — but the gruff voice of your boss’ voice scrapes over your skin and leave you warm and obedient. You push yourself up and easily return to your position on the floor, back pulled straight in attention and arms folded behind your back, hands curved around your elbows, in denial.

Derek brushes soft fingers over your cheek and under your jaw. “Aren’t you so beautiful like this, sweetheart?” He slides his belt free and loops it around the back of your neck. With a harsh tug, he pulls your face to his crotch.

“We don’t have a lot of time, so you’re going to suck me off and then I’m going to send you out,” he explains. “But since you prepared such a nice present. Sit close to me during the meeting so it won’t be as boring. If you can make it through without needing to excuse yourself, we can just leave, maybe go back to my place and fuck over and over. I don’t need to explain to you what happens if you can’t resist, clear?”

“Crystal,” you slur, mouth smushed against the stiffening swell of Derek’s erection.

Derek releases the belt, leaving it hanging around your shoulders, and let you work at the button of his pants.

You lower yourself to sit back and to be in line with Derek’s hips.

Without answering, Derek opens his pants enough to pull himself free. His cock hangs heavily between the green flaps of his slacks, already hard enough to hook to the right. Leaving one hand loosely curled around himself, he presses the fingers of the other to your lips.

You part them, still looking up at your boss with starry eyes. Derek teases a finger along your bottom lip.

He chuckles brightly but a second later his entire face closes off. “What are you smiling for?” His voice sinks nearly a whole octave and, as expected, your tiny grin drops.

Breath quickening, you quickly lower your gaze and try to straighten your back impossibly more, the sound of Derek’s voice hitting that particular low knocking you into another level of submission.

The fingers at your lip hook over your teeth and pull his jaw open wider.

“Excited to have my dick?” Derek angles his dick up and rubs the shaft, already smelling thick with arousal, over the ball of your cheek.

Your eyes begin to glaze over where they’re glued to the fall of Derek’s light green or seawater tone dress shirt over the base of his cock. You try to blink yourself out of it, faintly aware of where the two of you are and your limits, but when the hand at your mouth leaves and drags back along your jaw to settle like an anchor at your nape, the desire to sink is so inviting.

“You’re my sweet, little cockslut, aren’t you?” Derek punctuates the question by slapping the side of your face with his dick, the sound made hollow by your open jaw. “Always so good for me.”

Sucking in a shuddering breath and letting your eyes drift shut again, you nod once. “Yes,” you exhale and turn your head to press your nose into Derek’s shaft.

Derek’s grip softens and he grazes lines into your skin. “Haven’t had you like this in a while,” he says, and then reestablishes the weight of his hand.

He presses the tip of his cock to your lips, which part once more without instruction, and slides into your mouth.

“That’s it,” Derek sighs. He draws out before guiding you down his length again, giving little time to allow his slut to relax. “Take all of it.”

The bit of coarse hair at Derek’s base that pokes out over the hem of his pants tickles your nose and if you hadn’t fallen deeper, you probably would have laughed. But you’re quiet as Derek holds your face flush against his hips that shallowly roll forward, pushing his cock as far into your mouth as his limits will allow.

He sighs again, more labored, and you peel open your eyes to glance up at him.

Derek’s own eyes trail up from where they were watching your mouth to meet his slut’s gaze.

You blink three times, your signal for an okay when he can’t use his hands or words.

Derek inches out, checks his hold on you, and slides back in, gaining speed and ending up choking you as he uses your mouth to get off.

And you take it so well, hollowing your cheeks on the backstroke and swallowing around the head of Derek’s cock when it bumps the back of your throat, even as the rough treatment steals the air from your lungs and builds tears in your eyes.

Sporadically, Derek murmurs a compliment in between the low groans and hushed curses, so proud of his precious advisor, his sweetheart — and every word makes you ache between his legs, makes your hands tighten where they’re clamped around your elbows, makes you skyrocket.

The ringing of Derek’s office phone goes ignored as he focuses on the moist warmth of his slut’s mouth and chasing his end. It’ll get him in trouble one day, maybe, but here in this moment, with your throat working around his dick in that way he likes and the blood in his veins singing, he can’t be bothered with caring.

Derek doesn’t always warn you before he comes, but you know all of the signs. Signs like how he presses his nails into your skin or how his left knee trembles the slightest bit. And when he sucks in his cheeks and hum, Derek comes warm and thick on your tongue.

Some of it leaks when Derek pulls out of your mouth, sliding over your swollen lips, but the older man is quick to catch it on a finger and feed it back to you.

“Tuck me in” Derek demands after you swallow, voice still husky but now light. The corners of his lips rise into a satiated smirk.

Unfolding your arms, you shake the crawling feeling out of them before tucking Derek back into his underwear and adjusting his pants. As he redoes the buttons, Derek rubs all over your neck, upper back, and shoulders. “Was I able to help?”

With a gruff he managed to pull you on his lap, not that you showed any sign of protest. “Not too bad so far. We’ll see how I feel later tonight”

All you do in response is tuck your nose into Derek’s throat and enjoys being held.

“Can’t wait,” you exhales.

Note: thanks for reading. Criticism is completely accepted

[dark-romantics]

Zodiac signs as summer aesthetics

Virgo: cozy video games, writing essays hyped on caffeine, blankets and pillows, lofi music, floral/botanical print fabric, wet grass, sleeping with the windows open, taking notes, caramel icecream, art gallery dates and greek statues, daydreaming out loud.

Libra: late night drives down empty roads. singing to lana del rey, beach weather, counting stars, mapping out constellations, breaking into abandoned buildings, loud, heartfelt laughter. feather tattoos and band t-shirts, thrift stores and life long friends, falling in love too easily, loving too loudly. 

Taurus: Sunshine and linen sheets, freckles and dimples, gold and sand, warm laughter and cold cocktails, strawberry lemonade, pizza and a can of soda, tan lines and stretch marks, afternoon naps on the porch and late night rides, a light breeze in the summer heat

Pisces: wiling the hours away, staring at the ceiling, wanting to write but not knowing the words, blaring music, ignoring texts, bucket lists, hiding from the world, scrolling aimlessly through the internet, messy hair from the heat, reading books before class starts. cozy bookstores and losing track of time

Cancer: large smiles, loud, infectious laughter, sunflowers, denim, hands hiding in pockets, cigarettes, okay grades, napping under trees, pointing out constellations, bucket hats and bandannas, morning people, fancy teas

Leo: blooming flowers, late study nights, picking up an old hobby, writing never-sent love letters, reminiscing about the past, buying heartfelt gifts for friends, telling the moon all your problems, mature for your age yet still a child within, competetive, secretely cries during movies