#do not send me asks about them/j

[fried-trash]

The only thing I don't like about this platform is that I have to learn like all the tags for fandoms I'm in why can't I just download that information into my brain instantly

[agentark]

whatever you do, don't imagine a young J Corvin waiting every day at the end of their drive, hoping today is the day the mail carrier finally brings a letter from their very best friend

[skygemspeaks]

guys it's literally so embarrassingly easy to pull me into a hyperfixation for one of my fandoms, i got like one ask about the earth girl trilogy yesterday and it's all i've been thinking about since then.

[acourtofquestions]

Golden flame danced between her fingers.

Elide recoiled, and the fire vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"My name is Essar," the female said softly. "I am a friend--of your friends, I believe."

Elide said nothing.

"Cairn is a monster," Essar said, taking a step closer. "Stay far from him."

"I need to find him."

"You played the part of his mistreated lover well enough. You have to know something about him. What he does."

"If you know where he is, please tell me." She wasn't above begging.

Essar ran an eye over Elide. Then she said, "He was in this city until yesterday. Then he went out to the eastern camp." She pointed with a thumb over a shoulder. "He's there now."

"How do you know?"

"Because he's not terrorizing the patrons of every fine establishment in this town, glutting himself on the coin Maeve gave him when he took the blood oath."

Elide blinked. She had hoped some of the Fae might be opposed to Maeve, especially after the battle in Eyllwe, but to find such outright distaste...

Essar then added, "And because my sister--the soldier you spoke with--told me. She saw him in the camp this morning, smirking like a cat."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because you are wearing Lorcan's shirt, and Rowan Whitethorn's cloak. If you do not believe me, inform them who told you and they will." Elide cocked her head to the side.

Essar said softly, "Lorcan and I were involved for a time."

They were in the midst of war, and had traveled for thousands of miles to find their queen, and yet the tightness that coiled in Elide's gut at those words somehow found space. Lorcan's lover. This delicate beauty with a bedroom voice had been Lorcan's lover.

"I'll be missed if I'm gone for too long, but tell them who I am. Tell them that I told you. If it's Cairn they seek, that is where he shall be. His precise location, I don't know." Essar backed away a step. "Don't go asking after Cairn at other taverns. He isn't well regarded, even amongst the soldiers. And those who do follow him... You do not wish to attract their interest."

Essar made to turn away, but Elide blurted,

"Where did Maeve go?"

Essar looked over her shoulder. Studied her.

The female's eyes widened. "She has Aelin of the Wildfire," Essar breathed.

Elide said nothing, but Essar murmured, "That was... that was the power we felt the other night." Essar swept back toward Elide. Gripped her hands. "Where Maeve went a few days ago, I don't know. She did not announce it, did not take anyone with her. I often serve her, am asked to... It doesn't matter. What matters is Maeve is not here. But I do not know when she will return."

Relief again threatened to send Elide crumpling to the ground. The gods, it seemed, had not abandoned them just yet.

But if Maeve had taken Aelin to the outpost where they'd lied that the Valg prince had been contained...

Elide gripped Essar's hands, finding them warm and dry. "Does your sister know where Cairn resides in the camp?"

For long minutes, then an hour, they had talked.

Essar left and returned with Dresenda, her sister. And in that alley, they had plotted.

Elide finished telling Rowan, Lorcan, and Gavriel what she'd learned. They sat in stunned silence for a long minute.

"Just before dawn," Elide repeated. "Dresenda said the watch on the eastern camp is weakest at dawn. That she'd find a way for the guards to be occupied. It's our only window."

Rowan was staring into the trees, as if he could see the layout of the camp, as if he were plotting his way in, way out.

"She didn't confirm if Aelin was in Cairn's tent, though," Gavriel cautioned. "Maeve is gone--Aelin might be with her, too."

"It's a risk we take," Rowan said. A risk, perhaps, they should have considered.

Elide glanced to Lorcan, who had been silent throughout. Even though it had been his lover who had helped them, perhaps guided by Anneith herself. Or at least had been tipped off by the scent on Elide's clothes.

"You think we can trust her?" Elide asked Lorcan, though she knew the answer.

Lorcan's dark eyes shifted to her. "Yes, though I don't see why she'd bother."

"She's a good female, that's why," Rowan said.

At Elide's lifted brow, he explained, "Essar visited Mistward this spring. She met Aelin." He cut a glare toward Lorcan. "And asked me to tell you that she sends her best."

Elide hadn't seen anything that came close to pining in Essar's face, but gods, she was beautiful. And smart. And kind. And Lorcan had let her go, somehow.

[welcometogrouchland]

Thought about Damian and Dick's dynamic for too long and now I need to level a city block

[starrz-ombie]

hey is your onlyoneof bias yoojung? /j

omg!!! how’d you guess????

[krosiefics]

is that a bet? • stray kids ot8 x reader

M D N I 18+

Synopsis: at some point of playing ‘never have I ever’, you make a bet that you could make all eight of your best friends cum within 10-15 minutes…and well, you did.

WC: 3.7k (I have issues)

Tags: PURE SMUT, afab!reader, softdom!chan, dom!minho, dom!changbin, softdom!hyunjin, sub!jisung, sub!felix, dom!seungmin, switch!jeongin, switch!reader, piv, unprotected sex (wrap the eggplant yall), same hole double penetration, ass smacking, squirting, begging, overstimulation, hair pulling, spitting, oral (f. receiving), lwk gangbang, praise (pretty, good girl), degradation (slut, whore), light dacryphilia, breeding kink, creampie, biting(?), grinding, pet names (baby, babe, princess, hun, darling, kitten, bun, etc), marking/hickey, probably forgetting some…sorry :P

a/n: this is so smutty i am so sorry…but yw 🫠

You don’t remember how exactly you ended up in this position…something about a bet, yet here you are, half-naked spread out on the floor with eight pairs of eyes burning into your body.

8 minutes earlier

“Never have I ever,” Minho pauses in thought, “nutted before my partner.”

“What the actual fuck Minho.” Seungmin grimaces, though he takes a swig of soju. “What?!” Minho shrugs defensively, “It makes the game more interesting.”

“That’s a fucking lie though.” Jisung snorts as he also takes a shot of soju. “And how would you know that?” You ask with a sly smirk.

“I’ve seen him watch porn,” He deadpans, which sends everyone into a fit of laughter.

“You wanna bet Ji?” Minho challenges.

“Y’all seriously aren’t about to jerk off right here…right?” Chan looks at them in disgust and then at the white shag carpet underneath them, “Why, you wanna join?” Minho pokes.

“I bet none of y’all virgins can stop yourselves from cumming as soon as someone touches you.”

“You wanna make that bet.” Changbin chimes in. You groan at them which catches their attention, “Do you have something to say princess?” Jisung raised his brows teasingly. You groan yet again at the nickname before saying, “I bet I could make all y’all cum in fifteen, maybe ten minutes.”

“You really wanna do this?” Hyunjin lifts your chin with his finger. “Hmm,” you hum, “if you guys cum before I do, a hundred…from each of you.”

“That’s eight hundred bucks!” Jeongin blurts out, you nod slyly. “And if we win?” Felix tilts his head. “Y’all can decide on that.” you state.

You move to get up, dragging your hoodie over your body and exposing your oversized shirt underneath. You turn around looking at the eight boys. “Are we doing this or not?”

Everyone unanimously agrees. It went so fast, the soju from the previous rounds probably getting to everybody’s heads and letting you carelessly make these decisions.

“Oh and rules-“ “RULES?!” Minho, Seungmin and Jisung cried out. “Guys it’s her body, she can make rules.” Felix interrupts their protests. “Thanks Lix,” You smile before continuing, “no touching…well to be more clear no touching me or yourselves…but I can touch you.”

“What?!” They all exclaimed in disappointment.

“It makes the game more interesting.” You shrug, spewing Minho’s previous words at them, the said boy shoots you a playful glare.

You glanced over at the digital clock that hung from the wall. 12:48.

Present

And well, that’s how you ended up here.

Your hand trails down your body stopping at your soaked panties before circling over your clit, toes curling at the feeling.

You stare up at the eight boys, their eyes dazed on your leaking cunt that stains your panties. You let out a moan as you hook your fingers around the material and slip it down your legs, exposing your now bare glistening cunt. You let a finger plunge into your heat, biting your lip. You lock eyes with Changbin, his knuckles gripping at his sweatpants, the outline of his cock bulging through the material. You bite your lip as you stare at his bulge.

The sound of a small whine prompts you to look over at another flustered and painfully hard boy. Jisung looks at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his lower lip is caught between his teeth. “Please, Y/N.”

“Well since you asked so nicely.” You coo, pulling your fingers out of your cunt and crawling ever so slowly towards the round cheeked boy. As you settle by his side, you purposefully arch your back and push your ass out so that the guys sitting criss crossed on the floor behind me have a nice view. You trail your fingers up his knee and towards his thigh

He shivered under your touch as you made your fingers dance along his inner thigh. A desperate whimper left his mouth as you pulled back teasingly and went back to your original spot on the shag carpet.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin breathed out, “you’re ethereal.” His usually perfectly sculpted face contoured into a needy look- yet through his desperation he still looked as beautiful as ever. You moan softly as his praise. “Oh, does our little slut like to be praised?” Minho said to your right, you turned to him and bit your lip, your legs instinctively closing as his degradation surged throughout your body. “Fuck and degration too.” Seungmin hums as your eyes trail to him.

The hot touch of a hand on your lower hips snapped you out of the trace that Seungmin had basically pulled you into. You look towards your right, and there Minho is, smirking as his hand squeezes at the curve of your ass. “Hey!” You slapped his hand away, “No touching!”

“You never said what would happen if we did though, kitten.” The stupid pet name had you squeezing your legs together even more, “Aw, such a filthy slut for us.”

“Shit he’s right,” Felix breathed out, “what happens if we do touch you?” Shit, you didn’t think this far ahead- fuck you don’t even remember what the prize of the bet was…or if there even was one. Why are you guys even doing this again? “Fuck,” Chan groans gently, “does this pretty little cunt of yours want to be filled, love?” You feel his rough hands cup your bare cunt, jerking at the sudden touch. “Y/N?” Jeongin’s soft voice cracked as he whined out your name. You hummed in response as you fought the urge to grind against Chan’s large hand. “Can we touch you now? Please.”

“Oh God,” You throw your head back with a moan as Chan teasingly slips a finger inside your glistening pussy, “fuck yes! Please Innie!”

With that Jeongin springs up to his feet and quickly makes his way towards you. At the corner of your eye, you see the other five move from their spot to get closer to you. “Fuck,” you moan, feeling Changbin’s hands run under your tshirt, lightly teasing your pebbled nipples, “why did we do this again?” A small chuckle resonated from Seungmin’s sweet lips, “Because you wanted to win a bet, right pup?”

You bite down on your lower lip, Jisung’s lips attaching themselves to your clit next to where Chan’s fingers are plummeted inside. Felix helps you out of your shirt as Hyunjin and Changbin each take one of your breasts into their mouth. It all happened so quickly and at the same time, you feel your climax nearing faster than ever. And just like that your release is stolen from you as the four boys pull away from your body. You whine out desperately, “I swear to fucking God if y’all do that again I’m leaving and finishing by myself!” You threaten, sitting up onto your knees.

“Okay, okay princess.” Jisung purrs as he tilts your head up by hooking his knuckle under your chin.

You whimper as he nears your face, “This okay?” you gulp and nod quickly and to that he just clicks his tongue, pulling back slightly. “Words babe.”

“Yes.” you sigh breathlessly, Jisung attaches his lips to yours ever so roughly, a pair of soft hands grab at your hips, placing you down onto their lap. Your legs slotted against your chest being held by the man whom you’re laying on, while the said man leaves butterfly kisses along the nape of your neck.

Chan slipped his fingers out of your cunt prompting you to whine but the feeling of something warm and wet poking at your clit causes the whine to turn into a gasp, Jisung takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Your thighs instinctively clench around the head that’s propped between them.

“So sweet.”

Jeongin muttered against your folds before slotting his tongue alongside it yet again. “Holy fuck Innie!” you throw your head back, lips detaching from Jisung’s, with an erotic moan, your head now resting on the shoulder of the man behind you. At this angle you catch a glimpse at the the man- fucking hell.

He sinks his teeth into your neck, though the action seems so rough he doesn’t bite down to the point where it hurts. “Fuck, keep her making those faces.” Felix bites his lip, his hand rubbing himself through his shorts. You whine, shutting your eyes as Jeongin continues to assault your throbbing cunt as Changbin moves into massage your breasts. “Look at you,” Minho purred into your ear as he started grinding his hardened cock against your ass, “being so obedient and submissive for everyone, just like the little slut you are.” You moan out at the overwhelming mixture of sensations; Hyunjin nibbling at your nipple, Jeongin’s tongue running up and down your folds, and Minho breathing dirty words into your ear while peppering your shoulder with kisses and love bites.

The cat eyed boy sneakily brings his hand to your cunt and smacks it slightly, not too hard but enough that it stung a little. “Fuck you,” you groan out as Minho massages your core, his fingers dipping further down towards where Jeongin’s face is buried. “No,” Minho tsked, “I’ll do the fucking.”

“Don’t be too rough on her Min.” Chan spoke, you glance over to him and he had his hand shoved down his pants. “She likes it.” Seungmin said confidently, “Right, whore?” You do nothing but whimper at his words meanwhile your body starts to shake slightly. “Answer with words pup.”

“God, fuck yes! I love it- please don’t stop.” You can feel Jeongin smirk against your heat.

Your eyes wandered to the boy next to Seungmin, his eyes stuck on mine as his pretty face scrunched up, his shorts rustling while his hand too was shoved inside, and his freckled cheeks flushed so very red. “Lix,” you gesture for him to move closer, almost immediately the freckled boy quickly rushed down from his spot on the couch and next to you on the floor. He looks at you with pleading eyes, “take it off.”

You grab at the hem of his shirt, he swiftly pulls it over his head awaiting your next instruction. You were about to ask him something but the feeling of a harsh bite on your inner thigh caused you to squeak out instead. Your head whips down to see Hyunjin licking at the skin he just bit. They’re moving so quickly you can barely keep up with who’s doing what.

“Can we fuck you already?” A voice said from your left, your head instinctively turning towards the source. Seungmin stared at you with prying eyes. “Kim Seungmin!” Chan lightly smacked his shoulder, “Let her choose, remember?” The oldest shakes his head at the younger. “Min,” You whimper from the stimulation. “Yeah?” Both Seungmin and Minho responded. “Lee.” Seungmin pouted as Minho leaned in closer, hooking his chin on your shoulder.

Though your senses are so overloaded, you snake your hands down the space between your bodies, shifting your hips up to grab at his hardened cock. Minho’s brows furrow as you stroke his clothed dick. “Desperate are we?” He smirks, “You want all eight of us tonight? Or just a few?” Chan questions, he’s so thoughtful and that makes your heart hammer in your chest. “All.”

”Fuck.” Each boy’s voice sounds throughout the room, they all stare at you with lust-filled eyes.

Your hand that’s still wrapped around Minho’s cock, begins pumping it. Minho hisses at the feeling, precum leaking from the tip. You tease his slit before shifting your hips in his lap. Lifting your hips, you grind down on his cock, your arousal coating his shaft.

“Oh, fucking hell.” Minho throws his head back erratically as his tip pokes at your clit, he could feel as you throbbed against him. He wanted nothing more than to slip inside you already. Unbeknownst to Minho, you gesture with your head for Hyunjin to move closer.

The taller boy obeys, moving into your space, sealing your lips against his. Hyunjin’s hands moved to your hips, gently- yet quickly- pushing you down onto Minho’s cock. Both you and Minho moan out as you clench around his girth.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so well, yeah slut.” Minho grunts before he slams his hips into you roughly, not even allowing you to adjust. “Min, not too rough.” Chan warned as you dug your nails into Hyunjin’s shoulder as he continued kissing you.

“Yeah, she’s still got all of us!” Jeongin whined from Chan’s left. You clench at Jeongin’s words, the thought of you having all eight of them tonight makes you spiral towards your climax. “Not yet kitten. Hold it off.” Minho snarled into your ear, his cock continuously hitting your gspot.

“Hyune.” You whined, reaching down to pump his cock, jerking him towards your pussy that is getting pounded into by Minho. “Shit, you want me too darling?” Hyunjin smirked, his eyes gazing down towards where you and Minho are connected, where you’re pulling him towards.

You hastily nod, nothing but whimpers and moans spilling out from your mouth. Hyunjin shoots Minho a look over your shoulder, the latter smirks at him, taking your thighs and pushing them farther back to give space to Hyunjin.

Hyunjin’s tip pokes at your entrance before he pushes in. The stretch didn’t hurt too bad, but it was enough for tears to prickle in your eyes. As Hyunjin and Minho fucked into you, tears finally fell, cascading down your cheeks from the mixture pleasure and pain.

“Aw, don’t cry bun.” You hear Changbin coo. The built man moving over to you, kissing the tear stains on your cheeks. “They making you feel that good?” He gives a sly raise of his brow, his bottom lips jutting out. “F-Fuck Binnie.” You moan, you can feel both Minho and Hyunjin twitching inside you.

A harsh slap stings on your ass as Minho rubs at the now red spot. “I’m so close princess, can I fill you up?” Hyunjin grunts against your neck. “Yes, God, please, Hyune.” Your body begins to shake as Hyunjin spills into you, Minho following close after at the feeling of your clenching and Hyunjin’s cum coating his cock.

Jisung pushes Changbin out of his way before helping you up off of Minho and Hyunjin’s sweaty bodies, greedily taking you towards the sofa, sitting down and playing you on his lap. Jisung’s cock slips in with ease after being stretched out by Minho and Hyunjin.

You melt into Jisung touch as his hands guide you to roll your hips. His hands make their way towards your ass, spreading your cheeks apart revealing your swollen cunt to the boys behind you.

“Fuck you’re so warm baby.” Jisung groans into your ear. Suddenly another pair of hands are on you, massaging at your hips before rutting his cock between your ass. “Can I have a turn hun?” You hear Felix hum behind you.

You turn your head and give him a weak smile as a go ahead. With that Felix slips his cock alongside Jisung’s, both boys moaning at the feeling. Having almost orgasmed earlier, you feel it build up quicker than last time. Your thighs began quaking as Jisung bucked his hips and Felix thrusted into you.

Your hands shoot up to Felix’s blonde hair, tugging at it when the two boys hit your gspot directly. Felix released a low whimper, “Darling please, I won’t- last long if you do that.” He stumbled over his words, his freckled cheeks a deep pink hue.

You decide to tease the boy, clenching down on his (and Jisung’s) cock, pulling at his hair. You feel as he twitched inside of you before unexpectedly releasing. The freckled boy’s face scrunched up in pleasure as he leaned his forehead against yours as Jisung thrusted into you a few more times before emptying himself into you as well.

“Holy shit.” Felix shook, biting his lower lip before slowing his thrusts, robbing you from your orgasm again. “Save it for me, yeah love?” You heard Chan chuckle to your right. You turn to look at him, flinching when Felix and Jisung ease out of your clenching cunt.

Jeongin helps you off of the other’s bodies. He holds you up when your legs threaten to give out on you. Holding you by the waist, his pretty brown eyes flicker down to your lips, hesitant to lean in. You chuckle before cupping his cheeks and pulling his lips towards yours.

Jeongin groans into the kiss as he grinds his clothed erection into your hips. He pulls away, an embarrassed flush taking over his cheeks. You chuckle before setting him on the sofa like the other had been previously positioned.

Throwing your legs around his lap, you straddled the flustered boy under you. “This okay Innie?” You asked, even though you’ve already crossed that friendship line with him having already eaten you out, you still wanted to make sure he was okay with this.

“Oh fuck yeah I’m okay.” Jeongin grinned, his hands immediately roaming your breasts, squeezing and massaging at the flesh. You hastily undo the zipper of his jeans before tugging his cock out of the slacks. Jeongin hissed at your touch.

Suddenly a hot sting spread through your ass. You whimpered at the slight pain, turning over to see Seungmin glaring down at you. “Bend.” Jeongin stared up at the elder and you in a daze. You leaned as much as you could onto Jeongin before another slap landed on your ass.

A moan echoing from your mouth. With you moaning into his ear, Jeongin grew impatient, grabbing his cock before pressing inside of you. The mixture of the slaps and Jeongin’s cock filling you up made your back arch.

Before you could even begin to process what was happening, Seungmin rammed his cock inside your sopping cunt. You practically scream from the sudden intrusion, nails digging into Jeongin’s shoulders.

The two youngest boys out of your friends absolutely railed you, both stopping whenever your moans would pitch and you would start squeezing their cocks uncontrollably. “Minnie, Innie- let me please, I’m so close.” You cried, that knot in your stomach so tight that it almost hurt.

“You think you deserve it, after driving us all into this stupid bet, you whore?” Seungmin snarled, grabbing your hair and pulling your head backwards, “Open.” You oblige, parting your lips, lolling your tongue out as you understood what the man was hinting at. Seungmin let a drop of saliva fall from his mouth and into yours before harshly pushing your head back towards Jeongin’s neck.

The two boys continued using your cunt until they were spurting out warm ropes into you. Yet again you were robbed from your orgasm as the two roughly filled up your cunt.

“Fuck, you did so well pup.” Seungmin panted against the nape of your neck, leaving a small kiss there before slipping out of your pussy. When you pulled away from Jeongin’s sweaty body, he stared up at you with a wide grin and a dazed look, he looked absolutely fucked out.

Changbin helps you off the boys before pushing Jeongin off the couch and getting comfortable in that same spot, pulling you onto his lap. “You wanna take a breather?” Chan asked, crouching down to your seated level. “No…just…please, I’m so close.”

Changbin chuckled from behind you, guiding you to straddle him in reverse. You sink onto Changbin’s thick cock, the built man’s hands flying to your tits, holding and squeezing them as they bounce with your movements.

You peer through your eyelashes, raising your brow at Chan, insinuating for him to hurry up and fuck you. The oldest of the eight chuckles before slipping his cock out of his pants. “Gonna fill you up so good, yeah baby?” He says before sliding right inside your stretched out pussy.

“Holy mother of fuck!” You cursed, the stretch of Changbin was already overwhelming- but now adding on Chan’s way above average length…you don’t think you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.

Changbin thrusted harshly from underneath you, roughly pinching at your nipples. “Fuck bun, your squeezing us so much, might just bust right now.”

You loll your head back into his shoulder, “Bin…fuck- Binnie please.” You beg, your arms moving to tug at his wavy hair.

“Shit,” he huffed, his cock twitching inside you as he fastened his speed. Chan just watched as Changbin rammed into your cunt alongside his. The intense feeling of Changbin railing into you from underneath had you reeling, though the sudden circling of your clit made your orgasm finally hit you.

Liquid squirting out of you as you cried out, before Changbin released inside of you, Chan now picking up his pace, edging towards his climax.

“I know love, I’m sorry…just a few more.” Chan cooed as you whimpered from the overstimulation, he continued railing into you, not stopping when Changbin had pulled out of you.

Chan nuzzled his face into your neck, leaving kisses and sucking at the skin there. “Almost there love, gonna fill you up so good, yeah. You’ve been such a good girl for us.” His praise had you crying out, squeezing around his cock. At that Chan finally came, filling you up with his warm release.

Chan slowly eased out of you before gently moving you to lay on the less dirty part of the couch.

“Imma go get the towels.” A voice you’re not even sure who’s said. “I’ll get her some water.” Another stated.

Sometime later, Felix returned with some damp warm towels. As he wiped your lower region, you flinched at the sensitivity. “I’m sorry darling, almost done.”

A sudden hand gently raised your head from the back, supporting you to sit up. “You okay? We didn’t go too rough on you, right?” Seungmin asked as Minho handed you a glass of water. You took the glass with an appreciative smile.

“You guys were fine- oh.”

“Oh?” Hyunjin smiled in confusion. “The time.” You said pointing at the digital clock. 1:03. Exactly fifteen minutes.

“I win.” Some of the boys groaned while some chuckled, a bet is a bet after all.

taglist: @katsukis1wife

[0mg-bird]

Hangman’s Mystery - J Seresin x Fem! Reader

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Shy! Fem! Reader

Summary: Jake takes you to meet the crew after claims of him hiding you from them. You’re extremely shy and aren’t a fan of lots of people, making Jake be more protective of you. For once, Rooster knows more about Jake’s life than the others do.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety - protective Jake- Fluff!- language.

“All I’m saying is it’s a little suspicious.” Payback says, opening his locker up. Jake just rolls his eyes, preparing himself to go through this debate one more time.

“I hate to say this, but I agree with him.” Fanboy pipes in, pulling his flight suit off.

Somehow, the conversations lately always turn back to you. Ever since the flight crew found out Jake’s been seeing someone and it wasn’t a casual hook up, they’ve bugged him about it ever since. It had come up one night at the Hard Deck, when Coyote suggested to a perky blonde, who had been hitting on him, to focus her attention on the southern boy who was playing pool. She eyed Jake up, pleased with what was in her gaze and moved in on him.

Some of the boys gathered around to watch the cocky pilot work his magic. Coyote figured he was doing the pilot a favor since he hadn’t been seen with a girl on his arm in a while. Imagine their surprise when Jake took a step away from the grasp on his bicep.

“What’s he doing?” Payback questions, looking appalled.

“Is he sick?” Phoenix asked as she finished her beer.

Jake had smiled politely and rejected all advances the girl made, sending her away and going straight to his pool game again.

By the time Rooster came around with a fresh drink, the group scrambled to fill him in on the alien sight they just witnessed.

“He sent her away.” Phoenix said with a slack jaw.

“Like a poor puppy.” Coyote joked.

Rooster took a swig of his beer, then shrugged like they were idiots. “Yeah, he already has a girl.”

“What?!” They all exclaimed.

Ever since that night a week ago, Jake was being grilled on it.

As he takes out a fresh shirt to slip on, Jake shakes his head. “Coyote is getting married, and y’all are icing me for having commitment?”

Payback nods. “Well that’s because we knew of his fiancée, you have been hiding this girl like a dirty little secret.”

“I think him and Bradshaw are pulling our leg.” Coyote pipes in. “I think he made her up just to fuck with us.”

Jake laughs out loud. “You are just being ridiculous now.”

Bob, who has been quiet the entire time, ‘lurking’ as the crew likes to say, finally uses his smug voice. “Look, Seresin, I get it. I had a fake girlfriend too one time in high school, it’s embarrassing to admit, buddy.” His words make the guys laugh, and Jake shuts his locker with a loud clank. “She’s not fake! She just doesn’t really like hanging out with dick heads like you guys. She’s real shy.” He glares.

“Well, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Fanboy states. “Yeah, we want to meet her. You bring her to the Hard Deck on Friday night if she’s real, or else we will never stop bugging you about it.” He says, giving Jake a harsh choice.

His hand runs down his face. “I’ll talk to her about it.”

“He’ll talk to her about it, he says.” Coyote scoffs. “Okay Seresin, go talk to your fake girlfriend about it.”

“She’s not fake!���

~~~~~~~

“Baby?” He calls, walking through your front door. Moving to set his small duffle bag on the counter, he toes off his boots, trying to place where you were in the sea side house. It was oddly quiet, maybe you had your head phones in, oblivious to the world outside.

Down the hall he goes, pushing open your cracked bedroom door. Your scrubs were tossed in the corner, almost making it into the laundry hamper. You lay sprawled in bed, hair out of your braid, asleep in one of Jake’s t shirts he left at your house and some boxer shorts.

Slowly, he creeps to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed as he strokes your hair. You slowly start to stir, opening your bright eyes to him. A smile creeps up your pink lips, you take a deep breath in and twist to sit up.

“Hi.” You grin, happy he’s here.

“You alright? It’s only five, you look tired.” His voice was calm, sweet to you as he stroked the under side of your chin with his finger.

You rubbed your eyes. “Long day.” You breathe. “Mr. Johnson passed this morning.”

Jake’s eyes grow heavy with sorrow for you. He knew that this was normal for you because you were an at home nurse and a lot of the time the elderly patients pass. “I’m sorry, honey.” He says, leaning to kiss your forehead.

You lean into his touch. “It’s alright, I should be used to it by now but…I don’t know, Mr. Johnson was a sweet man, I actually adored his company.” You softly laugh. “But, that’s life, I’ll be fine.”

Pushing the covers further off of you, you lean forward and sweetly kiss the man that’s been in your life for five months. Despite the somewhat short time period, you couldn’t imagine life being any different than what it is. Your mother and sister called you crazy for being with an aviator, reminding you that he won’t stay in town forever, that he is quite literally owned by the government and will be wherever he is assigned to. The thought was scary, getting so attached to someone just for him leave when his ship comes in. It made your anxiety tick higher when you thought about it for too long. But, you don’t think you’ve ever been this in love. You’ll be the first to admit that you’ve never been a social butterfly, you were stuck in a shell, hardly bothering to get close to new people. Your handful of friends knew this about you, so it was a surprise when they met Jake and all of his infectious attitude. Somehow, Jake had a way of prying that shell open, his strong hands took you off the shelf and he learned that there’s a light hearted, good time, girl under all the shy innocence. He loved you for both versions, and it made you love him even more.

You declared that if you could, you’d follow him anywhere.

As he takes a shower, probably using your shampoo, you move to figure out what it is that you wanted to make for dinner.

You turn on some music, cracking a beer open and taking a drink. Soon, the kitchen is full of a delicious scent that Jake smells all the way from the bedroom. He follows the waft, sweatpants low on his hips and a casual tank top over her upper half. Finding you stirring some vegetables, he kisses the side of your head, then snatches the half drank bottle from your hand. This is usually the routine, you can never finish the drink you intend to, so he’s there to finish it for you.

“I want to…ask you something.” He says, leaning back against the counter.

You hum in question, and he loves the little look you toss him from over your shoulder.

“You wanna go out on Friday night?” He asks, making you smile. “Sure, where do you want to go?” You ask, unsure why he seems off.

“Well, I think since I’ve met your friends, you should meet mine. Let’s go to the Hard Deck with them, honey.”

You immediately stop your movements, anxiety sweeping over you. “Jake…I don’t know…a bar…”

“I met you in a bar.” He reminds with a smug look.

“That was different.” You turn to face him. “I was dragged there for my sister’s twenty first birthday and you know I hated it the whole time.”

He smiles at your pointed look. “Yes, I know but this will be different. Look, we’ll go, say hi, prove you actually exist, then come home and have sex on the couch.”

Your eyes widen. “Jake!” You gasp at his bluntness.

“Fine, we’ll do it in the shower.”

“Just stop talking.” You shake your head, hiding your smile. “The crew really doesn’t think I exist?”

He comes to grips with your waist. “They think I’ve made you up, like some sad Freshman geek…like i’m Bob or something.”

“Who’s Bob?” You ask with confusion.

His head dips to your neck. “Come to the bar and you’ll figure it out.” He mumbles, inhaling your scent before nipping at your skin. It makes you laugh, desperate to push him away but his strong arms have you locked in.

Something about him could make you forget anything. Sadness, anxiety, tiredness…the veggies that are burning in the skillet.

As his mouth moves up your throat, he’s engulfing you like a starved man. You try to speak before he’s inhaling you deeply, pulling you impossibly closer with his mouth on yours, searing you with a kiss that makes your knees weak.

“Jake- baby- mm.” You battle. “Okay, I’ll go with you. Jake- vegetables are charring.”

He finally lets go of you, grinning at your laugh and the way you stumble slightly as he lets you go.

~~

Clammy hands run down your jeans, once, twice, three times before Jake pulls you towards the entrance.

“They’re not gonna like me.” You stress.

“They’ll love you.” He states, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“They’ll be bored of me in two seconds.” You continue.

“No they won’t, just breathe, honey.”

You’re submerged into a room full of talk and music, some rowdy college kids are being thrown out and you’re sure you stepped in a puddle of spilled margarita. Your eyes are wide, and you shift closer into the larger body beside you. Jake leans down to whisper in your ear that it’s calmer in the back.

By the pool table, a group is gathered there and you immediately assume this is the infamous crew.

Phoenix is the first to notice, she smacks Payback and Fanboy, motioning for them to look alive.

“Well well, here he is, the man himself.” Coyote says smugly, setting his pool stick down.

A shorter pilot approaches you. “How much did he pay you to be here?” He asks, confusing you.

“What?”

“Just joking, I’m Reuben, but everyone calls me Payback, and you’re gorgeous.” He takes your hand in greeting, making your face heat with surprise and embarrassment.

Payback is pushed aside, and replaced by another. “I’m Fanboy, his back seater which means he’d be shit outa luck if he didn’t have me saving his ass.”

You shake his hand too, unsure of what to say.

“So, what’s your name? Wait, what was the last one, Jake? Abbi? Alison? Sorry, he has a thing for A names. Your name start with an A?” His tone is teasing, but he’s so straightforward, it makes things awkward.

Jake’s grip tightens on you. “Cut it out, Garcia.” He slowly said with a warning look.

Fanboy puts his hands up in defense. “Just trying to get to know this mystery girl you hid from us, Hangman.” He claims, then goes back to your gaze. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You say softly, brushing him off.

You’re introduced to more guys, all who make some sort of snide comment about your relationship with Jake, well, except for Bob who was utterly polite. To your surprise, you’re introduced to Natasha greets you with a hug.

“Well, you’re real and not crazy so that’s a plus.” She jokes, making you chuckle. “You want something to drink?” She asks.

“You’re sweet, thank you. I’ll just take a beer, I’m not picky.” You say in a grateful tone, she nods, saying she’ll be right back.

Moving in from outside, Rooster makes his appearance.

“I missed the meet and greet? Damn.” He says, making you turn with a grin.

“Bradley, hi!” You greet, stepping away from Jake’s embrace momentarily. Rooster hugs you politely. “Hey girly, how are you?”

The crew grows a sour look.

“You two already know each other?” Coyote asks.

Rooster nods. “I was there when her and Hangman met.” He says so casually.

“Bradley and Ashley come over for lunch sometimes.” You add, making the group look at each other.

“Does no one tell us anything anymore or…” Bob trails off.

The night continues with chatter and worthless bets on pool shots. At no point does your hand leave Jake, whether it’s intertwined with his or on his arm, his back, your finger hooked on his belt loop, anything. It might make you look needy, but it’s something that eases your nerves.

When you do pull away from him with intention of finding the bathroom, he immediately turns when your warmth is gone.

“Where you goin’?” He questions.

“The ladies room, a place you can’t follow me in to.” You tease, starting to walk away.

He’s eyes scan the room, then watch you closely. He doesn’t miss the amount of guys that turn to watch you, scanning you up and down, definitely making comments about how good you fit in your jeans.

His paranoia gets the better of him, he marches across the bar to the hallway where the restrooms are. Back leaned against the wall, he waits, standing guard, in his mind, but the pilots call him a puppy.

“Mystery girl went and made him a golden retriever.” Payback laughs.

Fanboy nods. “We’ve lost him for good. What’s he gonna do when he leaves next month for Po-dunk, Texas- or wherever he’s from?”

They all watch as you and Jake slowly start to walk back to the group. Rooster, who finishes his beer, simply shrugs and leans to line his pool stick up. “He says he’s gonna take her with him and marry her.”

“What?!”

[malkaviian]

how to realize i've had enough academically speaking today: i started to think about rafael and luca's domestic life, in case they somehow meet and get together after rafael's divorce.

[ferritins]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE (HOT TO GO!) | J. TODD

“I don't care how many years I've known you and how goddamn hot it is; we have not been friends for long enough to excuse you wearing short shorts in my home.”

“Short shorts?” Jason splutters. “They’re not fucking Daisy Dukes! These are US Army issue nylon tricot weave PT shorts! The Marines wear these!”

Yeah, you think, but I strongly doubt the Marines make them look borderline obscene.

Your eyes keep tracking to the thick, corded muscle of thighs, the ochre-gold of tanned skin cut through with dusk-rose scarring, the way the hems of his shorts strain against the sheer bulk of him.

(You’re ogling him. Knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to look away.)

“Actually, they phased silkies out of Marine PT uniform issue in 2011.” You say, mouth dry. “The US Armed Forces is responsible for many atrocities, but your slutty choice in shorts is not one of them.”

Realisation of what you've said strikes like a meteor through marzipan. You start throwing silent prayers to every god you can think of that Jason doesn’t pick up on a particular detail of your response.

You can practically see the moment that any divinity that exists in the universe decides to spite you, and the second half of your comment registers in Jason’s head.

He blinks hard, mouth dropping into a comedic little ‘o’.

“Wait a minute. You think my shorts are slutty?”

"...I think that if you can look me in the eye and tell me that three inch inseam shorts aren't a questionable choice when you're packing heat like that, you're lying to both me and yourself.” You reply diplomatically, tearing your eyes away from those delectable thighs.

Jason's ears flush crimson.

“Oh, like your shirt is so much better with that many buttons undone.”

You start, glancing down at yourself. Sure, there's more décolletage on show than you'd perhaps feel strictly comfortable with in public, but your shirt is hardly indecent. You look back up to find Jason's eyes trained on the hook of your collarbone, right at the point where it dips into the suprasternal notch; his eyes flit up to meet yours, pupils blown, as a patchy flush floods his cheeks.

“Wha— are you a bloody Victorian? Is showing a little bit of collarbone in my own apartment really scandalous enough to make you blush?” You ask, laughing a little with incredulity.

“Nothing Victorian about either of us, if the way you were staring at my legs is any indication about how your mind works. ”Jason retorts. Your jaw drops, and Jason snickers. “Yeah, sweetheart, I noticed.”

You feel your blood rush to your face at a frankly mortifying speed, Jason's smirk turning distinctly wolfish at your clear embarrassment.

“Okay, so we're both godless slatterns. Good chat. Glad we can end this here before I die of embarrassment.” You mutter.

Jason quirks an eyebrow.

“Slattern? Why, was ogling my thighs doing it for you, sweetheart? Thinking about how one of them would feel between your own?”

Jason's voice tips into a baritenor rumble at the end of the sentence, the sound sending heat dripping into the pit of your belly.

You can see that goddamn smirk on his face, caught somewhere between teasing and a flash of teeth, clearly enjoying every second of your fluster.

You've got to get your lick back.

“Depends. What was it you were thinking about, Jay? How pretty my collarbone might bruise after you sink your teeth into it? Or is touch more your thing, huh? Wondering about my skin under your fingers?”

The sound that leaves Jason is punched-out, his pupils blowing out to the size of dinner plates.

Your lips quirk up, something like victory in the corners of your smile.

Before you can gloat, you find yourself pressed up into the back of your sofa, Jason we'll and truly in your personal space.

Hovered over you, he’s all supposition; unyielding muscle and sharp lines, hard planes to your soft curves, flooding your nose with the scent of cologne and gunpowder.

You find yourself blinking up into a pair of ink-black pupils, ringed ever so faintly by teal.

“You are playing,” Jason murmurs, “a very dangerous game.”

“Am I winning?” You laugh.

“Fuck.” Jason mutters, husky and emphatic, then; “if you knew how long I’ve wanted—“

He breaks off, a savage huff of breath leaving him.

“Look, if you’re just teasing, I need you to say something now, before—“

With a roll of your eyes, you press your lips to his in a brief, close-mouthed kiss. When you pull back, Jason looks sun-stunned, hope and disbelief warring in his eyes.

“Idiot.” You snark fondly. “You didn’t answer my question. Am I winning?”

A moment, then two, then he’s brushing butterfly kisses to your cheeks, temple, the tip of your nose and the soft hinge of your jaw before, finally, finally, his lips press to yours, close-mouthed and chaste.

The two of you trade slow, shy kisses, soft and sweet until you catch Jason’s full bottom lip between your teeth, tugging slightly.

You hear his breath catch, and the kisses abruptly turn filthy; Jason licking at the seam of your lips until you open up for him, the electric pressure of his tongue against yours, sharp, incisors nipping sharply at your bottom lip.

You could die happily like this, you think; Jason’s hands rucking up your shirt, his mouth on yours, the knowledge of how he tastes burned into your synapses.

When you part, your chest is burning with air hunger, and your lips are spit-slick and puffy.

As much as you’d like to continue, you’re desperate for a cold drink, and only some of the sweat at your hairline is courtesy of your marathon make out.

You say as much to Jason, who groans, full throated, and sucks a savage mark into the side of your neck.

“Okay, you absolute menace. I’ll go grab you a coke, and as soon it gets below 95 in the shade, I’ll show you just how much of a winner you are.”

wallahi england is a godforsaken nation and not just because of r*shi s*nak and k*ir st*rmer. how is the humidity 81% at 11pm at night??? “marley aren’t u african and from desert country” YES. WHERE HOT ALSO MEANS DRY, AS GOD INTENDED.

at least desert country is arid heat.

anyway: Jason Todd good hot, England bad hot (and also a failed state run by cartoonishly corrupt devils, but enough abt britpol).

this one goes out to my fellow Jason Todd apologists @sems-diarie and @stars-n-sweets !!!

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

cw: menstruation (not graphic), afab anatomy

Part 4: “Girl Problems”

You shift in the office chair, stomach lurching uncomfortably. It’s been bothering you today - groaning and moaning nonstop. So far you blamed it on the suspicious chicken salad you got from the discount grocery store. You took every stomach soother you could, all the way down to chugging tea on the hottest day of spring so far.

With a rather pathetic groan you stand to meander your way to the bathroom. Surely sitting on the pot will help - at least as a placebo. Just as you do, though, a very distinct wet feeling makes itself known. You freeze, briefly, as if it will go away if you stand still enough.

“Ah, fuck!” You gasp, grabbing your purse and jogging down the hall to the single bath stall and popping the lock shut.

As soon as you sit, you let out a small sigh of relief. At least you caught it before you turned your underwear into a total crime scene. You’d rather not have to explain to John why you need to go home and change. You dig through your bag to your usual pocket of various supplies. From lotion to a sewing kit. It never hurts to be prepared.

Except, as you rifle around, you’re not finding your usual stash. There should be at least three in here… when did-?

The very loud, distinct memory of a girl at a bar stopping you while canvassing for some sanitary products hits you like a train.

“Whatever you’ve got I’ll take.” She practically begged. So, you handed them all over because got forbid someone get stranded during the most hellish week of the month. Like you are now.

You make a deep, frustrated noise in your throat and bury your face in your hands. You’ve been meaning to put a basket of backup wipes, pads, and tampons in the little bathroom cabinet - not just for you but for customers, too. It just kept getting pushed off when you got busy with other things.

Shit. What are you gonna do? If you put your pants back on you’ll just bleed through them in ten minutes. Cursed with a heavy flow (or blessed with a strong connection to the moon, as your former hippie roommate insisted.) Less time than that, probably, based on the vicious cramp that travels from your lower back to pelvis. You won’t be able to get to the corner store with out leaving a war crime in your path.

John’s the only person in the studio right now. He doesn’t have a client for another hour or so but you’d rather die than tell your hot boss you’re bleeding everywhere. For a few, quiet moments, you violently bounce your knee and go through every possibility. Maybe you’ll suddenly turn into the flash and you can get home before anyone even notices. You don’t really have much of a choice, do you?

With another groan you pull your phone from your pocket, thumb hovering over his contact for just a few beats too long while you work up the courage.

>> ok so this is terrible

>> im so sorry

>> but im having girl problems and am stuck in the bathroom

>> im so sorry this is so unprofessional

Girl problems? What are you? In fucking middle school? Before you can send yet another in a long string of planned apologies, John answers.

J >> How can I help?

>> i dont have any products on me

>> meant to stock the bathroom

>> sorry

J >> Stop apologizing

J >> What kind do you use? I’ll go to the corner store up the street

You breathe out a sigh of relief, still nervously gnawing at your lip as you send him what you need with an example picture (just in case) and profusely insist you’ll pay him back. John refuses. You’ll just have to sneak the cash in his tips or something.

It isn’t long before you hear the front doorbell ring, heavy footsteps, then a gentle tap on the bathroom door. “Y’alright, love?”

You perk up. “John, I’m so sorry-“

“Didn’t ask if you were sorry. Asked if you were alright.”

You snort. “Yeah…”

“I’m goin’ to unlock the door to slide these in. No lookin’ I swear.” John says. As if you were worried about that. You trust John. More than maybe any other man you’ve known (not that the bar is very high.) It’s nice of him to say, though. The door barely cracks open, just enough for him to toss the box to you across the floor and shut it immediately. You barely even see his arm. “That all you need?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” You murmur, bending awkwardly and snatching up the box. “I’m really sorry. I know it’s not really… appropriate.”

“Love, it’s normal. It happens. Just get y’self situated.” John taps the door once before you hear his footsteps drift down the hall toward the front.

You feel a bit skittish the rest of the day. You know it’s stupid. John’s a grown man and it’s a natural thing that happens and it’s fine. He said it’s fine. If it wasn’t fine you probably wouldn’t still look up to him the way that you do - the way that you have since you came here. The way everyone else seems to. Even so, you step around him a little wider than usual on your way out - keeping your head hung low and both hands tightly gripping your purse.

You chew your lip, shifting in place as he locks the front door. “Look, John, I-“

“If you apologize again I’m gonna fire you.” John mutters, pulling on the door to make sure it’s properly secured. There’s humor in it, though, the corners of his lips quirked up slightly.

You scoff, still not quite able to meet his eye.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” When you don’t move fast enough, apparently, he tilts your head up with a light touch. His eyes are so warm despite their icy blue shade. Sparkly in the setting sun. “Any man worth his breath wouldn’t give a shite. I’m sorry if that hasn’t been your experience, but really, it’s fine. I’ll help you out a thousand times over if y’need.”

“Okay…” You murmur, suddenly very distracted by the feeling of his fingers touching your chin, light as is it. You pull away and clear your throat, hoping he doesn’t notice the growing heat in your cheeks. “Well, uh, see you tomorrow, then.”

John nods, still smiling. “Sleep well, dove.”

When you come in the next day, you expect to get teased. A snide comment or a sideways look. You would have at any other job you’d worked - especially one with all men. All giggling and poking at you like a bear they know can’t bite back. No one says a thing outside of their usual greetings when you make your way to the front desk, though. Johnny pinches your hip like normal, Simon greets you with his new pun of the day, Kyle gives you a distracted wave over the hum of his practice gun. John doesn’t bat an eye when he says hello and checks in about the plan for the day.

You open the bottom drawer that you usually tuck your purse into, pausing before you set it inside. At the bottom, neatly tied together with a piece of twine, sits a king size chocolate bar and a pack of Midol.

If John notices the way you become extra smiley after that discovery, he doesn’t comment.

A/N: This was very self-indulgent but I’m having a bad time over here and need to be saved.

[reidrum]

if you keep asking | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

a/n: this was requested with “if you keep asking me i’m not gonna be okay” or smth along the lines 😭 i am a glutton for hurt/comfort fics so if yall have any more requests send em in :)

summary: in which you’re trying to keep it together when you hear some detectives talking ill of you, and spencer isn’t gonna have it

cw: hurt/comfort, self deprecation, insecure!reader, bitch ass detectives, protective bau my heart, use of she/her pronouns

wc: 2.2k

_______

the bau team was filing into the bullpen after landing from their last case in seattle, everyone making a beeline for their desks to get a head start on their reports so they could go home faster. everyone, except you. it felt like you were on autopilot, remembering your last known movements and just repeating them for as long as you could.

the case in seattle was rough to say the least. the unsub’s mo seemed to change every minute, making any progress the team made obsolete. the only thing that seemed to be somewhat consistent was where the unsub was taking his victims, which meant the geographical profile was the most important part to solving the case, a task you and reid were assigned to.

it started off fine, you both had found the comfort zone of where the unsub would strike next to figure out how to catch him in the act. except the next time he struck it was completely out of the predicted range, and this time a kid had died. no one could have anticipated that happening. it didn’t make the loss hurt any less.

the team knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, humans are unpredictable, and that includes serial killers. spencer made sure to tell you specifically that it wasn’t your fault, he knew how you’d get if someone didn’t tell you.

his efforts went to utter waste when you walked by a room at the precinct with detectives whispering about how “you fucked up the whole profile, that’s why that kid died” and “it’s clear you make the team stupider, how did you even get into the fbi in the first place?”

it wasn’t the first time your abilities were in question. you were the newest member of the team, having only transferred six months ago from cold cases. you may be new to the field, but there was a reason hotch chose you personally for the bau.

you tried hard to prove yourself, despite pretty much everyone saying your skillset was enough proof. you’d stay late to finish reports, do extra research on cases to help garcia narrow her searches faster, and you spent countless hours at the training range.

you were a worthy agent, anyone who knew you or read your resume knew that. but right now, you felt like the smallest person on earth, an imposter. what the hell were you even doing here if you couldn’t save him.

you shouldn’t be allowed to feel relief that the team caught the unsub, not when there’s blood on your hands.

the bad thoughts swirling in your head causes you to stall your motions when you’re putting files away, gaining the attention of morgan, “you alright, sweet cheeks?”

“i’m good morgan, don’t worry.” you lie effortlessly. if he can tell you’re lying, he doesn’t mention it and turns back to his work.

taking a deep breath, you stand up to go to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, when you run into jj finishing up making her own, “i was just thinking about you, i got this new creamer i think you’d rea-, hey, are you okay?” jj starts but ends concerned.

you try to focus on metronomic tick of the clock so you dont escalate, “i’m fine j,” you laugh unconvincingly, “what creamer did you get?”

she ignores your question, “because i know that was a tough case, and if you need to talk about it with someo-“

“jj, drop it, please.”

the blonde’s face drops a little at your sternness, but respects your space and offers you to try the creamer before returning to her desk. you feel bad for snapping at her, but the growing guilt within you is giving you apathy, and you can’t bring yourself to care at this moment.

you linger in the kitchen so as to avoid any more concerned faces, and you’re left to your own devices that are slowly overtaking you.

unbeknownst to you, spencer had been watching you since you all landed back in quantico. he kept his distance, mostly because he knew how overwhelmed you get at confrontation, especially about your emotions. he was the same way, a man of logic getting befuddled by emotion was enough cognitive dissonance to last a long time.

he knew it was different with you. you had a way of internalizing everything in your surrounding, a downfall to your endless empathy for others even if they never deserve it. he could explain the logic behind your beliefs, and hopefully use facts to help you relax, but that was the other thing he knew about you; you were stubborn. asking for help is something you hated doing, and if it wasn’t on your accord to be asking, it was even more detrimental to your mood.

so when he watched you duck out from the kitchen and push past the glass doors of the bullpen, he knew you were reaching the head of your doom spiral quickly.

spencer got up from his desk, “i’m gonna go check on her.”

jj nodded, “just be mindful spence, something feels different.”

they’d all been on cases that hit a little too close to home, how could they not when all they do is rid the world of the evilest of evildoers. but after a good cry, a rant to a teammate, or even an emergency therapy session, even the worst of the scum could be washed away.

something about the way you’ve been acting since they landed seemed like those fixits aren’t going to work this time.

he let out a sigh in response and walked out of the bullpen, realizing he didn’t actually know which direction you went in. assuming you’d want to be alone, he thinks the bathroom might’ve been a viable option for you and heads towards it.

the nice thing about the seventh floor is that it’s only for the bau, the bullpen was where the team spent most of their time but outside the doors there were so many empty rooms being used for storage.

so as spencer walked towards the bathroom in the hopes of finding you, his ears pick up on a tiny sniffle a little ways before it. he stops in his tracks, hoping he was just hearing things. but another pained sob rang through the door on his left, and he knew he’d found you.

he rapps the door a few times, softly calling your name, “hey, it’s spencer…can i come in please?”

you were on the other side sitting at one of the abandoned desks with your head down, but shot up at hearing spencer’s voice, “i- i’m fine i just needed a minute. i’ll be back in like two minutes, i promise.” you angrily wipe at the tears pooling on your face, grateful that you took your makeup off in the plane.

“honey, that’s not what i asked,” he starts, “is it okay if i come in?

your heart clenches at the term of endearment as you stare at the door knowing he was waiting for your okay to come in, and you start to internally weigh your options. you could let him in, and let him in to do whatever comforting you know logically would help. or you could lie, and feign ignorance to the end.

don’t they say ignorance is bliss?

you make sure to wipe the last of your tears and your runny nose before practicing a few fake smiles so it didn’t look like your face was frozen in sadness for the last thirty minutes. turning the knob you swing the door open, borderline creepy smile on your face as you greet the man, “hi dr. reid! was there something you were looking for?”

he furrows his brows at your complete (fake) shift in mood, but he comes in and shuts the door behind him, and moves to stand a few feet from you, “what’s going on?”

“nothing spence, i’m fine.” you insist.

spencer thinks if you could be more see through you’d be a windexed window. you’re avoiding eye contact with him, picking at the skin of your thumb, he can see your nose is red most likely from all the tissue blowing, and your eyes are still puffy and lined with some unshed tears still. you are so clearly breaking at the seams, like an old childhood teddy bear with stuffing falling out the sides yet hoping you can offer some semblance of stability despite your state.

“you don’t look fine, honey. why won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

his words almost make you falter, and you think the walls you built so high are starting to chip down. “it’s not a big deal spence, i-,” a hiccuped breath gives you away, “i can deal with it on my own.”

spencer instinctively shortens the gap between you two, “you shouldn’t have to. i just wanna help you.”

“but i’m oka-“

“no you’re not.”

there is only one tiny thin thread left holding you together. “well,” you take a deep inhale and your voice gets impossibly small, “if you keep saying things like to me i’m not gonna be okay.”

“that’s why i’m here.” he says softly.

you look up at him with the biggest glassy doe eyed look he’s ever seen, and it’s like spencer can hear the snap of the thread in real time when he watches your face absolutely crumble. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his embrace, allowing him to hold your head down in the middle of his chest while his other hand smooths up and down your back in comfort.

“i know, shh, hey it’s okay, i got you.” he comforts.

your hands wrap around his waist beneath his suit jacket and you keep your face buried in his chest, inhaling the musky vanilla scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh laundry detergent smell letting it ground you back to him.

“i’m sorry.” you cry.

“don’t say that,” he hushes, “is it about the case?” you nod in his embrace, “we talked about it remember? there was nothing we could have done. we did everything right, sometimes it just doesn’t work out, you know that.” he moves his hand to tangle in your hair and rub your head.

“i- i know,” you say through labored breaths. you take a big breath before admitting the true reason for your anguish, “when we were about to leave, i walked by a room with some detectives talking about how i ruined the case and that…i’m the reason the kid died.”

“what?” he pulls back to look you in the eyes hoping to find any indication that you didn’t believe those poisoned words, “we both worked on that geographical profile together, the whole team agreed it was accurate and acted accordingly. what happened was not your fault. at all.” he emphasizes the last two words.

“yeah but…i don’t know maybe i could ha-“

“stop. you can’t do that to yourself. we did what we could with what we had, the burden of that child’s passing does not fall on you. we were only able to find the unsub’s hiding spot when you figured out he’d been going to the same gas station since the murders started.” he reinforced to you.

“they said that they didn’t know how i even got into the academy in the first place, and that i make the team stupider.” you quietly added.

spencer felt the rage consume his body, already planning the ways he was going to obliterate seattle pd. he cradled your head to look at him in the eyes, “listen to me. you are an important asset to this team. you make this team better at what they do, you make me better at what i do. you mean so much to me and the team okay? please don’t forget that.”

he swipes at a fallen tear on your cheek as you tell him between sniffles, “thanks spence…” you hope he understands the sentiment and love you’re trying to exude to him, even thought you’re unable to vocalize it.

“you gotta tell me if something like that happens,” he softly scolds you, “i’ll make sure they lose their fucking jobs.”

you’re about to speak when he cuts you off, “and don’t tell me that we should be the bigger people, because once the rest of the team hears about this, they’re all gonna be fighting over who’s gonna kick the shit out of them.”

you let out a tearful giggle, “you sound really funny when you curse.”

he scoffs, “what the hell, i do not!”

“you sound like a baby duckling that just learned how to say fuck.”

he starts to guide you out of the room and towards hotch’s office so you can recount what happened, “ouch, i’m hurt. i’d like to think the pistol and fbi badge i carry makes me intimidating.”

you giggle again, and spencer puts aside his rage to revel in the fact that you’re feeling better.

when hotch learned of what happened he immediately called seattle pd to file a motion to get those detectives fired, and the rest of the team were secretly praying for a case in seattle again so they could, as spencer predicted, kick the shit out of them.

[joelmillerisapunk]

How quickly can you take your clothes off, pop quiz

Joel Miller x reader

Masterlist

Wordcount

Summary: The enemies to lovers/one bed/forced close proximity/light grumpy x sunshine/patrol partner fic no one asked for.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, grumpy joel, reader is called "the new kid", reader has breasts but no physical description. It's more tension filled fluffy bickering than smut, but I couldn't help adding a little drop of it in.

Notes: I've been so sick this weekend and was strictly supposed to read fic, but this idea came to me anyway, so I queued it up. I hope you like them as much as I loved writing this. Ty @saradika-graphics , what would we all do without you?

Evening, Day 1

As you fasten the straps of your worn-out boots, the reality of your first patrol with Joel Miller, the cornerstone of Jackson's defence, settles in. You've heard stories about his exploits, and you're determined to prove your worth, that you're more than just another mouth to feed.

The morning air is crisp as you meet Joel by the gate. He grunts a greeting, his eyes scanning the perimeter with practiced vigilance. You fall into step beside him, the weight of your rifle a comfort against your shoulder.

"So, where are we headed?" you ask, trying to break the ice.

Joel's response is terse as he nods in front of himself. "Out there."

You nod, swallowing your disappointment and try again. "So, Joel, I've been studying the maps, and I think if we—"

"Save your breath. We'll check the traps, clear any infected, and get back before dark. That's the plan."

You nod, a little deflated but still hopeful. "Got it.” You press your lips together, taking his words to heart. 

The rest of the patrol is silent, save for the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional direction from Joel. You're vigilant, alert, and when you spot a tripwire, you quickly signal to him, earning a curt nod of approval. But upon returning to Jackson, you go to sign out in the patrol book, and your brows furrow at the entry Joel has already made. 

Patrol Log - Jackson Settlement

Date: Indeterminate, Outbreak

Pair: Joel Miller/The New Kid

Entry Signout: All clear minus the constant chatterbox that seems to think their voice is a homing beacon for every clicker in a ten-mile radius. - J

You didn't even talk that much. You roll your eyes and close the book a little too hard.

Evening, Day 2

You meet Joel at the gate once more, you notice a flicker of surprise in his eyes when you simply nod in greeting, foregoing the usual stream of words. He grunts in response. You're determined to show him you're not just the “constant chatterbox" he'd written about. You've spent the day replaying his words in your head, using them as fuel to prove your mettle.

—

"Up ahead, there's a blind spot by that old truck. Cover me while I check it out." 

You nod, taking up position without hesitation. 

As he disappears behind the rusted vehicle, your heart pounds in your chest. Every sound is amplified in the stillness of the evening—the distant hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves in the wind, and then a low growl that sends a chill down your spine. An infected emerges from the underbrush, its eyes locked onto Joel's last known location. Without missing a beat, you take aim and fire—a clean shot that drops it instantly. 

Joel reappears just as quickly as he vanished, his expression one of mild surprise at your swift action. "Nice shot," he grunts begrudgingly before moving on as if nothing happened.  A small victory for you; perhaps he's not entirely immune to your efforts after all. 

The adrenaline from the encounter with the infected is still coursing through your veins as you and Joel continue your patrol. His rare compliment echoes in your mind, fueling your determination to prove yourself further. 

As you make your way back to Jackson, you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. You've not only held your own but also protected Joel's back when it counted. 

Back at the settlement, you hurry to the patrol book before Joel can beat you to it.

Patrol with Grumpy McGrumpface complete. All infected cleared. Check back in a few days. And for the record, this chatterbox saved our asses tonight. Maybe next time, you'll  remember to check your blind spots—and your attitude.

You add a little smiley face next to your entry, a playful jab at his perpetual grumpiness.

As you walk away from the book, you glance back to see Joel reading your entry, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It's a small crack in his tough exterior, and it gives you hope that there's more to Joel Miller than he lets on.

Evening, Day 3

The air is tense as you approach the gate, the familiar silhouette of Joel Miller waiting for you. There's a certain expectation hanging between you two, a silent challenge that has been building since your last patrol. You greet him with a nod, the same flicker of surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by his usual stoic expression.

As you set out, the landscape feels different, almost as if it's holding its breath. You're more attuned to the subtle shifts in the wind, the way the light filters through the trees, and the distant sounds that could signal danger. You move with a newfound confidence, your steps sure and quiet, your senses heightened.

We're going to sweep the old high school today," Joel says, breaking the silence. It's the most he's volunteered about the day's plan, and you take it as a sign of trust, however small.

You acknowledge his words with a simple, "Understood," and follow him towards the dilapidated building that looms in the distance. The structure has seen better days, its windows shattered, the playground overtaken by nature, a haunting reminder of a world that once was.

As you approach, you signal for Joel to hold position while you scout ahead. You move with caution, your eyes scanning for any signs of movement. The silence is broken only by the creaking of a swing, swaying gently in the breeze.

You clear the perimeter, finding no immediate threats, and signal Joel to advance. Together, you methodically clear the classrooms, the gymnasium, and the cafeteria. 

As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the desolate high school, you and Joel finish securing the premises. The tension between you has simmered down to a low hum. It's eerie how the remnants of childhood laughter still linger among the abandoned desks and faded educational posters. You can't help but wonder what became of the students and teachers who once filled these halls with life.

"All clear," you report, as you finish sweeping the last room, your voice echoing through the empty halls.

Joel grunts in agreement, his eyes lingering on the swing set outside, its melancholic creaking a stark contrast to the silence that now fills the school. "Let's head back. It's getting dark."

You nod, but as you turn to leave, a sudden storm rolls in, the sky turning an ominous shade of grey. The wind howls through the broken windows, whipping up leaves and debris in a frenzied dance. Within moments, the heavens open up, unleashing a torrential downpour that shows no signs of letting up.

"Damn it," Joel mutters under his breath, his gaze fixed on the rapidly deteriorating weather outside. "We ain't makin it back to Jackson in this."

Your heart sinks at his words. The high school isn't equipped for an overnight stay—at least not comfortably—and sharing close quarters with Joel Miller is an entirely different kind of danger than what you've faced so far today. But there's no other choice; safety comes first. You follow him to the least damaged classroom and start gathering materials to make it through the night: some old mats from the gym for bedding; whatever dry wood helps you start a small fire, and some canned food from what remains of the cafeteria's supplies. 

As night falls and darkness envelops your makeshift shelter, you can feel Joel's unease mirroring your own—two predators forced into an uneasy truce by circumstance. You both know that despite your differences and his gruff exterior, survival often requires uncomfortable compromises... like sharing body heat when temperatures plummet during stormy nights like these... like sharing a “bed” when there's only one dry spot left in an abandoned high school turned refuge from infected monsters lurking outside.

—

The storm outside rages on, its fury unabated, as the match from your hand hisses out against the wet concrete floor. The darkness inside seems to thicken and you can feel the cold creeping in, the dampness seeping through the layers of your clothing, chilling you to the bone.

Joel's silhouette is barely visible across the room, his frustration palpable in the heavy silence that follows the failed attempt to reignite the fire. The tension that had momentarily subsided now returns with a vengeance, amplified by the primal need for warmth and the instinctual fear of the unknown dangers lurking in the darkness.

Joel rummages through his bag, the sound of items being shuffled around punctuating the silence. He pulls out a small waterproof match case, flipping it open to reveal just three matches left inside. His fingers, roughened by years of survival and hardship, gingerly pick up the first match. The strike against the side of the box is sharp and swift, but the wind howling through the broken windows extinguishes it before it can catch. A second attempt meets with the same fate, and Joel's jaw clenches in frustration. "Damn it," he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible over the storm. He looks at the final match with a mix of resignation and determination. "You know, if you were more careful, we'd have more to work with," Joel grumbles.

"Oh, so now you're worried about being more careful?" you retort, unable to keep the sarcasm out of your voice. "A little too late for that now ain't it Miller?” 

Joel glares at you, his eyes narrowing in the dim light. "I've been careful," he growls. He strikes the last match, shielding it from the wind with his hand. But again it fails, leaving you with no heat. 

You can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at seeing Joel struggle. "Yeah, well, maybe you should've thought about that before we ended up in this situation," you say.

Joel shakes his head. "You think this is fun for me?" he asks. "Stuck in this godforsaken place with someone who can't stop talkin?”

You glare at Joel, his silhouette a dark shadow in the dim light. "You think I wanted this?" you snap back, frustration seeping into your words. "I'm here because I have to be, just like you."

Joel grunts in response, his gaze fixed on the remnants of the failed fire. "We don't have time for this," he says gruffly, standing up and brushing off his pants. "We need to conserve body heat."

Reluctantly, you both make your way to the makeshift bed, nothing more than a pile of old gym mats and whatever dry fabric you could scavenge and a small emergency blanket meant for one person. The thought of sharing such close quarters with Joel is unsettling, but survival trumps discomfort every time.

You lie down first, turning your back to him as he settles in behind you. The awkwardness of the situation is not lost on either of you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body despite the layers between you. As minutes pass in silence, save for the howling wind and rain lashing out, Joel shifts slightly behind you. His arm drapes over your side as he tries to find a comfortable position—and then his hand accidentally brushes against your breast. You stiffen instantly; it's an intimate contact that neither of you expected nor wanted under these circumstances. 

"Whoa! Watch it!" you exclaim indignantly, trying to wriggle away from his touch while still maintaining contact for warmth's sake—a delicate balance indeed under these cramped conditions.

Joel recoils as if he's been stung by a wasp. The tension in the room spikes, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Joel's breath hitches, and you can feel his body tense up behind you. The accidental touch has set off a chain reaction of awkwardness, and you're both acutely aware of the other's presence. "Sorry," Joel mumbles, his voice rough with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to..." His sentence trails off, lost in the sound of the rain pounding against the roof.

You nod, acknowledging his apology, but the damage is done. The line between survival and intimacy has been blurred, and the close proximity is playing tricks on your mind. You can't ignore the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, or the fact that you're both very much alone in this abandoned high school.

Minutes tick by, and despite your best efforts to keep a respectful distance, the reality of your situation becomes increasingly apparent. The cold is seeping in, and the need for warmth can't be denied. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you find yourself leaning back into Joel, seeking the heat that his body is so eager to provide. He stiffens at the contact, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he cautiously wraps his arm back around you, pulling you closer. 

It's been a long time since either of you has felt the touch of another person, the comfort of human contact that goes beyond mere companionship.

Joel's breath is warm against your neck, and you can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you. It's a startling realization, but it's met with an unexpected surge of desire that you can't quite suppress. The knowledge that he's affected by your closeness is thrilling, and you can't help but wonder if he can sense the effect he's having on you as well.

The line between necessity and want is blurred, and in the end, it's the human need for connection that wins out. With the storm as your only witness, you turn to face Joel, your eyes meeting in the dim light. There's a silent question hanging between you, one that's answered with a soft, almost hesitant kiss. The kiss is an exploration, a rediscovery of a basic human need that has been long neglected. It's a slow burn, fueled by days of tension and the shared experiences that have brought you closer than either of you could have anticipated. Joel's hands find their way to your face, cradling it gently as he deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the contours of your lips before slipping inside to meet yours in a dance that is both familiar and new.

The cold is forgotten as warmth spreads through your body, ignited by the friction between you. You find yourself pressing against him, seeking more contact, more heat. Your hands roam over his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and a soft moan escapes your lips as Joel's fingers deftly undo the buttons of your shirt, revealing skin that is hungry for his touch.

There's an urgency building between you now—a primal need that cannot be ignored or denied any longer. Clothes are shed hastily; each piece removed reveals another patch of warm skin eager for exploration and connection

As the last of your clothes fall away, the cool air of the high school classroom is a stark contrast to the heat that radiates between you and Joel. His hands trace a path down your sides, exploring the curves of your body. The rough pads of his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more.

Joel's gaze meets yours, and there's a vulnerability in his eyes that you've never seen before. It's as if the walls he's built around himself are crumbling down, brick by brick, revealing the man beneath the hardened survivor. You reach up to cup his face, feeling the stubble scratch against your palms, grounding you in this moment—a moment that feels both surreal and more real than anything you've experienced in a long time.

With a tenderness that surprises you both, Joel lowers his lips to yours once more, kissing you deeply as he positions himself between your legs. The anticipation is palpable; every nerve in your body is attuned to his presence. As he enters you, there's a brief moment of discomfort followed by an overwhelming sense of fullness—a completion that transcends physicality. You move together in rhythm; each thrust is punctuated by gasps and moans that echo off the walls of the abandoned classroom. The world outside has ceased to exist; all that matters is this connection—this desperate need for closeness in a world gone mad.

Joel's pace quickens; his breath comes in ragged gasps against your neck as he drives into you with an urgency born of months—if not years—of pent-up desire and longing. You meet him thrust for thrust, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back as waves of pleasure crash over you both.

The tension builds within you like a storm gathering strength—a tempest that threatens to sweep away everything in its path until there's nothing left but raw sensation and pure ecstasy coursing through every fiber of your being until finally - release washes over you both in a rush of heat and sensation that leaves you gasping for air. The world around you fades away, replaced by the pulsating rhythm of your shared climax. It's a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

As the aftershocks subside, you find yourselves entwined in each other's arms, your head resting on his chest and the steady beat of Joel's heart is a comforting sound against the backdrop of the relentless storm outside. The cold is kept at bay by the warmth generated by your bodies, and for the first time since this ordeal began, you feel truly at peace. 

Eventually Joel's breath evens out as he falls into a deep sleep, his body relaxed and sated in a way you've never seen before. You take a moment to study his face—the lines etched by years of hardship softened in slumber, revealing a hint of the man he might have been under different circumstances. With gentle care, you extricate yourself from his embrace and pull on your clothes, intending to keep watch over the sleeping giant beside you.

The hours pass slowly; dawn is still a distant promise when you hear it—the unmistakable sound of movement outside your refuge. Your senses immediately go on high alert; adrenaline courses through your veins as you cautiously approach one of the broken windows, rifle at the ready. The storm has lessened but not enough to obscure the shapes moving in the pre-dawn gloom. Infected? Or something worse?

You glance back at Joel, still lost in sleep, and make a split-second decision. You won't let whatever danger lurks outside reach him while he's vulnerable. Steeling yourself, you slip out into the storm-ravaged landscape. The rain pelts against your skin, a relentless barrage that does little to dampen your resolve. You move with purpose, your eyes scanning the darkness for any signs of movement.

The high school grounds are eerily quiet, save for the occasional clap of thunder echoing in the distance. You keep low, using the remnants of the playground equipment as cover as you make your way towards the source of the disturbance. The last thing you want is to lead any potential threats back to Joel.

As you approach the perimeter of the school, you catch sight of a small group of infected, their grotesque forms illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning. They seem disoriented, their movements erratic as they struggle against the wind and rain. It's clear they're not here for you; they're simply passing through, driven by some primal instinct to seek shelter from the storm.

You take a deep breath, steadying your aim as you prepare to engage. The first shot rings out, echoing through the deserted schoolyard. One of the infected drops to the ground, its body convulsing before falling still. The others turn towards the sound, their milky eyes searching for the source of the threat.

You fire again, and then again, each shot carefully placed to conserve ammunition. The infected fall one by one, their bodies piling up in the mud as you advance, keeping the upper hand through sheer determination and skill. But as the last one drops, you hear a new sound—a low growl that sends a chill down your spine.

You turn just in time to see another infected emerging from the shadows, its jaws snapping hungrily as it charges towards you. You raise your rifle, but the mud beneath your feet gives way, sending you sprawling to the ground. The infected is on you in an instant, its weight pinning you down as it tries to bite through your rain-soaked jacket.

With a surge of adrenaline, you manage to free one arm and reach for the knife strapped to your belt. You drive the blade upwards, aiming for the infected's exposed throat. The creature gurgles in pain, its grip loosening just enough for you to wriggle free and deliver the killing blow.

Panting heavily, you push the infected's lifeless body off of you and take a moment to assess the situation. The immediate threat has been neutralized, but you're acutely aware that more could be drawn by the sound of the struggle. With no time to lose, you make your way back to the school, your heart pounding in your chest.

You slip back inside and secure the door as best you can. You turn around and see Joel is already awake, his eyes scanning the room as he reaches for his weapon. The sight of you, unharmed, brings a look of relief to his face, quickly replaced by a scowl. "Where the hell were you?" he demands, his voice rough with sleep and worry.

"I heard something outside," you explain, keeping your tone even. "I went to check it out."

Joel's expression darkens. "You should've woken me up, you could have gotten killed out there," he grumbles, his concern for your safety masked by his usual gruff demeanor.

"I didn't and you needed the rest," you reply, meeting his gaze. "Besides, I can handle myself.”

Joel's jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he's going to argue. But then he just nods, acknowledging your capability even as his protective instincts chafe at the thought of you facing danger alone. "Next time, wake me," he repeats, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You can't help but smirk at the gruff concern in Joel's voice. There's a part of you that enjoys getting under his skin, challenging the walls he's built around himself. "You know, Joel," you say, your voice light but your eyes serious, "I think you might actually care about what happens to me."

Joel's scowl deepens, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something that looks a lot like vulnerability. "Don't get the wrong idea," he grumbles, looking away. "I just can't afford to break in a new partner."

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "Sure, Miller. Keep telling yourself that." You walk over to where he's now sitting and nudge him playfully with your foot. "Admit it. You like having me around.”

Joel rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a reluctant smile. "You're alright," he concedes, his voice gruff. "But don't let it go to your head.”

You can't resist the urge to tease Joel a little more. "I think you protest too much, Joel Miller," you say with a playful grin. "I mean, first you can't stop complaining about my chatter, and now you're almost starting to sound... affectionate."

Joel's eyes narrow, but the ghost of a smile still lingers on his lips. "Don't push your luckp," he warns, his voice carrying a note of fondness that he's unable to fully conceal.

You lean in closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, for someone who pretends not to care, you sure were... attentive last night," you say with a sly grin, your eyes dancing with mischief.

A flush creeps up Joel's neck, and for a moment, you think you might have pushed him too far. But then he chuckles—a low, rumbling sound that you feel more than hear. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" he says, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

You beam at him, feeling a sense of triumph. "Maybe," you admit, "but you like me anyway.”

—

As the first light breaks through the retreating storm, you and Joel prepare to leave the high school behind. You gather your belongings, exchanging quiet glances with Joel as you both acknowledge the shift in your relationship.

The journey back to Jackson is uneventful, the aftermath of the storm leaving the world outside quiet. You walk side by side, your boots crunching on the wet gravel. Joel seems more at ease, his usual stoic demeanor softened.

Upon your return to the settlement, the familiar sight of the gates brings a sense of relief. The guards nod in recognition as you pass.

You make your way to the patrol book, your fingers brushing against the worn pages as you prepare to document the latest entry. Joel watches you, his expression unreadable, as you pick up the pen and begin to write.

Patrol Log - Jackson Settlement

Date: Indeterminate, Post-Outbreak

Pair: Joel Miller/The New Kid

Entry Signout: Patrol complete. High school secured. Infected cleared. Storm provided unexpected overnight stay. No serious injuries to report. 

You pause for a moment, considering your next words carefully. With a small smile, you add a final note

Casualties: Zero. Zilch. Nada. Unless you count the ego of a certain grumpy individual who may or may not have been out-shot by yours truly.

You cap the pen and step back, allowing Joel to read your entry. His eyes scan the page, and you see the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he reads your postscript. He doesn't say anything, but the look he gives you speaks volumes. 

As you turn to leave, Joel's hand catches yours, his grip firm yet gentle. 

Hey," Joel says as he pulls you closer. "I, uh... I don't know how to do this," he admits, his gaze dropping to where your hands are joined.

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, offering him a small, encouraging smile. "Do what, Joel?" 

He takes a deep breath, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. "This," he repeats, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. "The... talking about feelings stuff." 

You can't help but chuckle at his attempt to articulate his feelings, the corners of your mouth curling up into a smile. "Is this the part where you tell me that despite your better judgement, you've grown fond of me?" you tease, squeezing his hand in return.

Joel rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in his expression. "Somethin like that," he admits gruffly, releasing your hand to run a hand through his disheveled hair. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. And maybe... maybe I don't mind the chatter as much as I let on.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the gruff admission meaning more to you than any grand declaration of love ever could "Well then," you say, stepping closer to him, "I guess this means we're stuck with each other."

Joel's response is a low chuckle. "Yeah," he agrees, his hand finding its way to the small of your back in a gesture that feels both new and familiar all at once. "I suppose it does.”

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: When your boyfriend finds out he didn't make you come, his anger quickly turns into lust.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving/giving), teasing, cursing, mature themes, fingering, talk of sex and orgasms (obviously)!

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

"So, how's your boyfriend?" Dorcas Meadows asks you one evening at dinner. She leans in closer and she sings-songs the questions as if your boyfriend is some kind of burning hot scandal. You glance up from your plate, your eyebrows creasing, as you cover your mouth to swallow and then answer your friend, 

"He's fine. Why do you ask?" you can't help the warmth that rises in your cheeks at the mention of James. Sure, you've only been dating for three months but it's been an absolutely amazing three months. 

"No, no, I meant in the bedroom," Dorcas deadpans which causes you to almost choke on nothing as your other friends chuckle. 

"How'd you know about that?" You ask, sending a glance at Lily Evans who looks sheepish as she shrugs her shoulders from beside Dorcas. She was the only one who was supposed to know you had slept with James a week earlier. You made her promise not to tell anyone because well, the experience had been slightly disappointing. 

"Heard he didn't make you finish," Dorcas continues carelessly and your eyes round when you see James and his friends come up from behind her. Dorcas didn't see them and she finishes her sentence with a wide smirk, "Who would have guessed James Potter is shit at making girls come?"

Your heart pounds in your ears as James stands behind Dorcas, his mouth open and his cheeks suddenly burning crimson. His friends stand on either side of him, their faces drained of color, and you feel like you could just crawl into a hole and die. Your fake moans come back to haunt you; 

"James, J-James," you groaned, wrapping your legs around him as you bruised your face in his neck. James's curls stuck to his forehead as he moaned into your skin and sucked on your collarbone. Thinking you had finished, he pulled out and kissed your lips before he smiled an exhausted smile. 

"What?" Your boyfriend mutters, his voice shaky. His friends are silent, not daring to make a sound as yours look horrified for you. Dorcas's shoulders are tense and she looks at you, muttering a "sorry," behind her breath as she shoves her mashed potatoes in her mouth.

You've never seen James leave the Great Hall so quickly and you sprint after him. You manage to catch his arm and pull him into an empty classroom. You press your hands to his chest, letting him lean against a wall, but he just pulls your hands away.

"James Potter is shit at making girls come?" He repeats Dorcas's words, his tone piqued, and you can't tell if he's more upset or disheartened by the implications of the words. "When we," he pauses and turns his head away from you, "you didn't orgasm?" 

Frantically, you claw at his collar, shaking your head as guilt overwhelms you. "No–I- I didn't, but James," 

"You faked your orgasm?!" James interrupts, hurt now evident in his eyes as his voice grows more squeaky.

"James, I- I didn't mind," you start to explain, "Really! You were just so close and I could tell you wouldn't last much longer and- I needed more time. I didn't want to make you wait for me," you bite your lip, looking up at him. 

James's chest is rising and falling rapidly. His dark, hazel eyes flicker from yours to your lips and then to all your features in the middle. Gently, he lowers your hands from his collar. "Y/n, why didn't you tell me?" his voice comes out strained and broken.

Your heart shatters. "And why have you been going around telling all your friends I'm shit at making you come when you never even gave me the chance! I thought you had!"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," your expression hardens and you scrunch your nose, "No one was supposed to know. I only told Lily because she's my best friend. I tell her absolutely everything! I guess she must have mentioned it to the others. I'm really sorry, James. Are you terribly angry with me?"

James frowns. He obviously wants to feel angry with you. He wants to be seething mad that you faked your pleasure and then went around telling your friends, but all he can think of is that night. How you looked; that beautifully flushed expression, mussed hair against his pillow, the way your lips had opened and closed to let slip your moans. 

James clenches his fists. Had that all been a lie?

He looks at you now and his eyebrows scrunch. He walks closer to the wall, backing you into it as you stare at him. You can't help the way your heart is beating as his closeness. "Okay, tell me, what did I do that made you feel good then?" James asks seriously and you're surprised by the question.

You'd expected more yelling, or blaming—

—definitely less seducing. 

"I-," you pause when James's eyes narrow and his hand moves to hold under your chin, wrapped easily around your neck. You inhale, eyes widening as he applies some pressure. He looks angry but there is also a deep, lustful, fire burning behind his eyes. His breath fans over your mouth as he whispers, 

"What. made. you. feel. good?"

"I- I liked when you kissed me, kissed behind my ears, kissed my collarbone," you mutter, breathing becoming even harsher as you remember that night. How you'd been sprawled out on his bed, legs intertwined, and he'd kissed all your worries away. James wastes no time in attaching his lips to your neck, under your ear, and you let out a shaky breath. 

"I- also- I liked when you used your fingers," you say as if prompted by the feeling of James's foot sliding over yours and pushing your legs apart. His hand dips down to your panties and he feels how wet they've become. He doesn't comment on it, just slips his hand under them and teases your clit.

"You should have told me," he reprimands in a whisper, his fingers sliding up and down your slit. 

You clutch onto his arms and shake your head, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you mutter like a prayer. 

"You should have told me because I wouldn't have stopped until my girl had come for real," James says with a nip at your skin. You let out a whine as his finger easily slides into you and he kisses you to muffle the sound.

"Fuck, my gorgeous girl. How could you?" he says as he pulls away and looks at you with slightly glossy eyes. "How could you not tell me?"

"I didn't want to embarrass you," you whimper as he runs his thumb on your clit. 

"Embarrass me?" James's eyes darken and he uses the hand holding your chin to push your head against the wall a little harshly, he scoffs, "You did just that and so much worse, my lovely," he pauses, "It doesn't matter anymore because I'll show you that James Potter can make his girl come." 

"I'm sorry," you say again. You chew your lip to suppress the needy sounds you're making. James shakes his head with a smirk and kisses the side of your mouth. He then moves his lips onto yours, teasing you with his tongue. 

"You will be," he smirks and slides his hands down your sides until he's on his knees in front of you. You look at him, his hair is messy and his expression is flustered. James grins wolfishly. He squeezes your hips and pulls up your skirt to bunch around your waist as he kisses above your panties.

"Did I not spend enough time on foreplay with my girl? Is that what it was, lovely? Was the feel of my cock just not enough for you," he soothes your embarrassed whines with another sweet kiss on your exposed stomach, "don't be shy, it's okay. You should have told me," he insists again, his words still a little harsh.

"I'm sorry, Jamie," is all you can manage to mutter, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel James's hands grip onto your thighs. You're already soaked. How embarrassing. James smirks and pulls down your panties. He slides his index over your entrance and hums when he feels your wetness. With a wider smirk, he spreads your pussy lips and exposes your needy clit. 

"You're so needy, love," James teases, "I just can't resist kissing you all over." 

As he says this, he attaches his lips to your clit and you let out a broken moan. Your hands find his hair and you chew on your lip so your noises aren't muffled. James hadn't done anything like this the last time. It had been messy and needy the first time. He'd used his fingers to open you up but you'd both been so eager, you'd missed foreplay. 

It seems likely the lack of foreplay was the issue because you feel like you're in heaven now. 

"J-James," you moan, almost incoherent as he licks and sucks at your core like a starved man. You didn't think he'd be so good at this. Your thighs clench around his head and when he pushes them apart, you moan uncontrollably. 

"Don't," James reprimands as he opens your legs and looks up at you. You can barely focus. James smirks and licks his lips. Standing up, he takes your chin in hand. "Do'ya wanna come on my tongue or my cock, darlin'. Please, tell me now because this time you are coming. I'll make damn sure of it."

You can barely form coherent thoughts let alone words as James tightens his grip on your chin. "Tongue or cock, Y/n," he says so seriously your stomach clenches with need. 

"I- I don't know," you whimper. 

James drops your chin and makes the decision for you. With a smirk, he lowers his head and places his lips around your clit again, sucking until you're once more a moaning mess. With one last whimper, your thighs tremble and you come apart. 

James moans into your pussy, pulls away, and uses the palm of his hand to rub your clit as he finishes you off. You're completely spent when James stands and kisses you. You can taste your own release on his tongue and feel his hard cock pressed against your thigh. 

"Jamie," you whine, eyes lidded. You want to please him too. 

James just deepens your kiss and whispers into your mouth, "What do you want?"

You reach out and run your hand over the bulge in his trousers. James hisses and grips your wrist, shaking his head with a stern look. "Honey, this is about you. 'M okay," he promises, but his eyes squeeze shut as his cock hardens even more. He mutters a curse under his breath. 

"I wanna," you mutter. It's your turn to drop to your knees. 

James's protests are futile because you have his cock in your mouth very quickly. While you don't necessarily enjoy giving head, this time it feels entirely deserved and you suck him eagerly. James's hands find your hair as he curses, "Fuck me," and his hips involuntarily buck into your mouth.  

"Shit, baby, I'm gonna come," he mumbles, biting his lip. 

You take him deeper, encouraging him with a small smile as your hands find his thighs. You feel him want to pull away, not wanting to come inside your mouth, but you hold him still. With a grunt, James comes and you look up at him as you swallow obediently.

Without another word, James pulls you up and smoothes down your skirt as he spins you around and kisses you passionately. You help him tuck himself back into his trousers as he kisses you and you smile against his lips. "Thank you," you say. 

"Don't thank me for making you come, darlin'," James argues, his cheeks still a little flushed from coming and the lingering embarrassment. You move to hold his cheeks in your hand and you kiss his nose. 

"Thank you for making sure I'm taken care of," you whisper anyway and lean your forehead on his. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier," you say. 

James wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in closer, "Damn right you should be," James's eyes soften and he kisses your cheek, "I'm sorry if I made you feel like you couldn't tell me. Just know, from now on, when we play—I'll make sure you come. Hard."

You giggle at this and James just nuzzles his face in your neck, enjoying the beautiful sound of your laughter.  

[jaylaxies]

HARD THOUGHT !

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader

cw: smut, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, usage of nicknames.

warning: 18+ content, minors dni

a/n: this was requested by anonnie! i hope you enjoy <3

“Don’t fucking move,” Jungwon groans right against your cunt, sending the vibrations up your spine as he spread your folds with his fingers, caressing your clit teasingly, looking up at you for just a second—his lips wet with his drool and your juices, dripping down his chin, “don’t you dare move, kitten,” he chuckles, his gaze dark as he holds on to your thighs tight enough for it to bruise later.

When you said you needed a release, this is exactly what you had asked for. Exam season stressed you out beyond words, and after the last exam of the subject you hated the most, there was no way you’d act calm, especially when Jungwon came to pick you up, clad in the white button up which was attractive as it is, but he had to go a step further by rolling up his sleeves which did nothing to hide his veiny hands.

“You did so well on your exams, let me reward you now, hm?” He said, eyes focused on finding the perfect spot to park his car, his hand squeezing your thigh wasn’t helping either, a low whine leaving your lips, and even though your eyes were closed, you could clearly feel him smirking as he stopped the car.

“Get in the back,” he whispered.

And that’s how you found yourself all spread out for Jungwon, even in the little room that the backseat provided, he made it all work. With your arched back pressed against the door, you tugged on his hair harder, a growl leaving his mouth with how immersed he was in pushing his tongue inside your hole, his rough thumb pad taking care of your clit in a speed which had your legs feeling weak.

“J—Jungwon,” you whined, causing him to hum and chuckle as he felt your body shaking.

He couldn’t help but dig his fingers in the flesh of your thighs, pushing his face closer to your cunt, as if he wanted to suffocate between your legs.

The sensation coursed through your body, your toes curling as the windows started fogging up with your activities and Jungwon had no intentions to stop, lapping up your cunt as if he’d be waiting ages to do this, to taste you, and somehow, each lick and flick of his tongue on your clit felt more intense than the previous one.

“You did so well, so fucking well, kitten,” he mumbled, hair messy as you kept on moaning louder, chanting his name as your thighs shook and you squirmed, but his hold on you was tight enough for you to stay in your place. He could care less about your cunt dripping all over his car seats, he only had one thing in his mind—your cunt.

It was as if he was addicted to your taste, and he ate you out like he meant it, making sure that your whole body could feel his desperation, your mind numbing as you approached your high, and Jungwon wasn’t going to stop, not even when you were throwing your head back and biting your first to stop your moans.

“Fucking hell, let me hear your moans,” he cussed, slapping your cunt while staring at you with dark eyes—a warning for you to behave. You couldn’t help but listen, somehow moaning even louder than before, trying to grab something, anything, which is why you tugged on his hair again, causing him to suck on your clit while fucking his fingers into your wet cunt, still not stopping.

“Jungwon, please,” you cried out, and he only went harder, using his two fingers and thrusting them into your hole so hard, you felt as if you were seeing stars, your sounds reverberating and your mind blanking out even more as he went on, so fucking needy to have a taste of you, and you knew you were gone the second he curled his fingers in your cunt. The last bit of sanity left your body as you squirmed and squirted all over his fingers while he only chuckled and rubbed your clit with his fingers, loving the sight in front of him, letting you breathe for just a second before asking:

“Ready for round two, kitten?”

© Jaylaxies | tumblr

[mossyivy]

NSFW ALPHABET

[DI! Leon S Kennedy Edition]

❗Minors Do Not Interact ❗

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Cuddler, massive cuddler. Honestly I see Leon as enjoying his partner being cuddled up to his chest but as long as you're touching each other he really doesn't mind. He just needs to be grounded after sex because he's not use to intimacy. (Remember y'all, aftercare in important FOR EVERYBODY INVOLVED DOM/SUB/SWITCH WHOEVER!!!)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Definitely proud of his arms. Man's got two pythons where his forearms are supposed to be. I'd be proud of those bitches too. It also doesn't help how often you tend to cling to them, admire them while cuddling up together or compliment how they look when he flexes.

When Leon's asked the good old "tits or ass?" question older than time itself he smirks and simply says thighs. He loves something plush to nap on when he comes home from work. He always says it'll be a quick 30 minute nap but he's always out for 3 hours when he's laying his head on your lap. They're just such a nice pillow and even nicer wrapped around his head.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Usually prefers finishing inside. If not then on your stomach. There's just something mesmerizing about watching his cum slowly drip out of you on down your belly that just makes him so horny that he can't get enough of you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Okay... So you send Leon pictures and he saves them. (He'd never share them though) But he secretly has an album in his phone labeled as WORK meticulously organization so that when you open the album it has important looking photos but if you scroll far enough it's just things you've sent him. Nudes, videos, even screenshots of steamy texts.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Decently experienced. Enough to get him by but also good at listening to his partner. Takes criticism well in the bedroom. Just wants his partner to have a good time and show that he loves you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

On your side or anything he can see your face. He's often tired so slow easy strokes on his side and using his hands is right up his alley. But for when he's feeling more energetic he's definitely up anything he can see your reaction with. He aims to please and the man is a good shot.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely 50/50. Leon can crack jokes when his life is at risk I'm sure he'd probably say something goofy to make you laugh or even something stupid like "come here often?" When you're changing positions and his creaky body pops or cracks he'll say some smart ass comment about the bed makes weird sounds again.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Definitely trimmed. Leon doesn't strike me as a massively hairy guy to begin with. But what hair he does have is well kept.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Intimacy is his favorite part of it all. Very tender and soft compared to what he is during work. Enjoys the touching the most. He's very touch starved. Cuddle him and he'll melt into a puddle. He LOVES being little spoon.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Jerks off often. Uses it as a stress relief thing but doesn't do it as often when he gets a partner. But I do think when he's away on cases and he has downtime at night he tends to call his partner and have phone sex.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Begging, biting, breeding, dirty talk, edging and roleplaying

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere at home. Leon would most likely be super hesitant about doing anything outside of the house and risking criminal record.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

His partners touch. Leon just really likes being touched. If you mostly just kiss him and move to his neck (it's sensitive, that's why he rarely wears anything that constricts his neck) you'll get him going in no time.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

No hitting, nothing with feet, no bathroom related stuff, no voyeurism or exhibitionism and no humiliation

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

50/50. But definitely more giving in the oral department. Uses it as a form of foreplay. Enjoys it because he loves hearing your slowly break and cry for him.

Sometimes he's just to exhausted to fuck so those are the times he'll just straight up tell you to sit on his face. He doesn't care if you're bigger, he knows you're not gonna hurt him. If you try hovering her will definitely wrap his arms around your thighs and pull you down on him. The man is skilled with his mouth and hands. So be prepared for the time of your life.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Definitely slow sensual type of guy. He likes making every moment last. But there's definitely been a flurry of passion after gets back from particularly long cases.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If he has to go out for work and he has a little bit of time before leaving, most definitely he'd be down for a quickie.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's fine with experimenting but not often.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Good for 3 rounds unless he's super tired. Last decently long, always makes sure his partner gets off first each time.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Oh Leon definitely owns one of those vibrators that work with apps. Sometimes when he's due to come home and he knows you have it in you he'll just tease you on the way home.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Usually Leon doesn't tease but when he's in a particular frisky mood, he will make beg to cum. And he doesn't care if you want it. If you don't beg like he wants he will make you wait and keep bringing you to the edge over and over like an asshole.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not loud in the slightest but he's definitely not scared to moan or whimper. Even curse under his breath, especially if he has you on your side and he's right in your ear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Said I love you for the first time during sex. Was mortified with himself, he meant it but was extremely embarrassed. Apologized profusely and told you he did mean it. And thankfully you love him back, obviously.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Ah yes, python 3. I'll be honest, I'd say he's at the higher average end in size but makes up for it in girth... Like a fucking coke can.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Leon had little to no sex drive but once you two got into a relationship he's like a teenage boy again. Can barely stop from wanting you all the time. But he's still more of the romantic intimate type and would rather just exist with you than constantly be at each other.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He clings onto life afterwards. Just wants to make sure you're taken care of but the second you relax against him he's down for the count. Like a god damn bear in hibernation.