#got As in everything but now I’m seriously worried if I can keep up that

[theseinfernalangels]

can we get #28 w/ brennan please 🙏

your last one for him was sooo good (he def gives such gentle love vibes)

28: One person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist any longer, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss.

(Sorry, anon. I’m feeling angsty today).

“I never asked if you were tired. I asked what you’re worrying about — and I know you’re lying, by the way.”

Brennan’s words, soft and stern, have you going still in his hold. You knew he could read the expression on your face with ease, but you hadn’t expected him to call you out on it so directly.

“And?” You reply, leaning your head against his shoulder. “It’s not like you can do much about that, Bren. You know that’s just how I am.”

“I do,” comes his reply. He hooks a finger under your chin, guiding you to face him directly. His face is shadowy in the darkness of your room, but it doesn’t do anything to dim the seriousness in his eyes. “But I’d also like to know what’s on your mind. You’re a worrier, but not to this degree. I can feel your heart pounding, angel.”

You shrug and avert your eyes. Eye contact was never your forte, especially when you got like this. Not when you saw, not when you knew that something bad was coming in advance.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as you feel one of Brennan’s fingers slowly start tracing your cupid’s bow, the touch grounding, warm, and familiar.

“I…saw something.” You hesitate to continue, keeping your gaze fixed past his head — anywhere but his amber eyes that look almost dark as coffee in the night.

“Yeah?” He encourages, stroking your bottom lip. “You wanna tell me what it was?”

You shake your head instantly. If he knew, he’d instantly try anything and everything to prevent it — and that might end in the worst tragedy of them all tomorrow. You could deal with the knowledge of other people dying, but not Brennan. Never Brennan.

“‘S bad,” you whisper, biting down on your tongue as if you were blocking the flow of words from leaving your mouth. “I don’t want to have to think about it more.”

Brennan’s finger pauses and slides up your jawline before he leans in, pressing a slow kiss to your mouth. He’s warm and light, but you can tell by the way his lips move against yours that he’s a little worried now, too. He’s just trying not to show it for fear of making you worse.

Good thing he won’t have to deal with it for much longer.

“Hey,” he murmurs, nuzzling your nose with his. “I’m sure that whatever it is, we’ll find a way through it. We’ve gotten through college, war, and death together. As long as we stick by each other’s sides, we’ll come out swinging.”

You nod and try to force a reluctant smile. It doesn’t come easily, though. He doesn’t know — won’t know — until it happens, and you can’t burden him with the knowledge that he won’t be able to do anything to change the outcome of the battle tomorrow.

So as you kiss him again, distracting him with the addictive pull of plush lips and lavender-tinged balms, you desperately pray to any god available that he won’t be watching once you finally fall from the back of your already-deceased dragon.

He can’t know. He won’t. Not until they read your name off the death-roll, and by that time, you’ll be nothing more than ashes in a common breeze.

[fqolai]

thinking about the new avengers first fight. they have a million firsts together and a million fights. but i mean their first really big, really bad fight. like team is breaking up kind of fight. it’s bound to happen and probably already did in those fourteen months we skipped.

i’m not a fic writer at all but here’s how i think it would play out...

with no one taking them seriously as the new avengers, tensions are high. especially for valentina. she banked everything she had left, which was admittedly, not much, on this whole sham. everyone’s doubting them. no one believes they measure up to the old avengers. and to top it all off, sam wilson is threatening to sue.

feeling pressured to get them good publicity, valentina arranges — what should’ve been — a layup for them. some small community assignment. all they had to do was show up, smile for the cameras, shake a few hands, etc. but one thing led to another and boom: utter catastrophe.

the press is having a field day. fourteen year olds on tiktok are having the time of their lives. reddit users have never felt so employed.

everyone on the team is arguing. the worst in everyone is coming out. alexei is trying to keep the team positive but it’s only making things worse (and everyone more annoyed). it’s getting bad and bob is frightened.

yelena… who has finally got a taste of what walking in her sisters footsteps felt like — who finally had a shot at a real family, at belonging — can see it all crumbling. she’s trying to hold them together (maybe even trying too hard). it comes from a place of love, of desperation, but she can’t express that in the moment.

ava can see the end coming and she’s seen enough to know it’s better to leave than to be left behind. so she’s the first to throw in the towel.

john follows quickly after. he should’ve known this would never work out. alexei, confident that he can bring them back around, rushes after them.

bucky had been silent the whole time. and yelena, in her anger, lashes out at him. she accuses bucky of not really being a part of the team. of never really letting any of them in. of never getting to know them or letting them get to know him. oh, how he must be so relieved that he can go back to sam wilson now that the whole charade is over. no pesky complications getting in his way.

yelena storms out and bucky doesn’t bother to follow.

and mel? mel needs a raise. again. cleaning up valentina’s messes is never an easy task. but this might just be her toughest assignment yet.

in talking with bucky, mel realizes that they’re all still dealing with their traumas and regrets and that maybe they just need a push in the right direction.

and quickly. valentina is seriously considering creating a world-ending event to bring them all back together. that cannot happen.

so she goes to yelena first. makes it clear val didn’t send her and asks how she’s doing. yelena insists she’s fine. who needed the avengers anyway? not her. and what a relief to no longer have to worry about valentina or the public breathing down their necks and judging their every move.

mel asks after bob. how is he doing? it must’ve been hard on him with the team breaking up and all. yelena stops to realize that in her anger, she didn’t check in on him before leaving. she had promised him they would stick together. yet, she had broken promise.

she sets out to find him and make things right.

she finds bob in his room in the tower. the darkness creeping up on him. she pulls him back. they’re still a family. sometimes family fights. but it will work out in the end. yelena does her best to sound more confident than she feels. she thinks bob can probably see right through it though.

mel finds alexei after. he’s inconsolable. he’s lost yelena again. he couldn’t stop their team from breaking up. he had to watch the light slowly fade from yelena’s eyes as the arguments got louder and louder. mel points out that he hasn’t lost anyone yet. yelena or the team. but he could, if he doesn’t do something about it. alexei leaves, convinced that a grand gesture is the only way to bring the team back together and bring some light back to yelena's eyes.

next, mel goes to john, who is spiraling into new levels of self-hatred. she thinks she sees him arguing with a reddit user under a burner account before he manages to hide his phone screen from her.

mel asks about his ex-wife. how are the custody negotiations going? she heard he got visitation once a week. that olivia was finally starting to trust him again. though, being an avenger after all, it may be hard to keep to a regular schedule. but, hey, on the bright side, if the avengers are done, that means john has free time on his hands. he can go back home, make things right with olivia, get a regular 9-5, watch the rest of the action play out on social media like everyone else these days. maybe that would be enough?

john sees through what she’s trying to do, but he supposes that she’s not wrong. he wouldn’t be satisfied with that life. she leaves him with a lot to think about.

then mel goes to find ava. she asks her why she was the first one to walk out. mel understands. it’s scary to let people in and know that they’re the only ones with the power to hurt you as a result. but if ava recalls, no one had mentioned leaving until she had brought it up. it was only after ava had left, that the others had followed.

was she too ready to give up at the first sign of strive? to protect what was left of her already fragile heart. perhaps, she had been too hasty...

bucky goes to see sam. to tell him… he was right? it all blew up in their faces? it was never gonna work out? whatever he meant to say, he doesn’t get a chance.

you see, sam has some opinions on this so-calle d‘team’ if that’s what they still are. he doesn’t know them. not really. he only sees what anyone else on the outside does:

yelena, an assassin, who loves being an avenger and all the glory that comes with it. who’s never had to work to make up for the bad things she’s done. and didn’t she just try to kill clint last christmas?? (sam doesn’t know how much she regrets what she’s done. that being an avenger is how she begins to make up for it all. and the whole killing clint thing, well… bucky can’t really defend that and if he’s being honest, it’s the first he’s heard of it)

alexei, a former soviet asset, working for one of america’s biggest enemies for most his life, and seems to want nothing more than to go back to the good old days. (sam doesn’t know about alexei’s biggest mistakes. and maybe that’s a blessing in disguise. but he doesn’t know alexei’s regrets. of allowing natasha and yelena to be taken to the red room. of not being there for his daughter who died worlds away. of almost losing yelena right in front of him. of failing both his daughters, time and time again, and trying to get it right this time)

john walker, a murderer, an asshole, who killed a man with steve’s shield. who’s wife left him and took custody of his child with her. whose ego won’t allow him to admit that he’s a terrible person. (sam knows john more than the others, certainly, but he hasn’t seen what bucky has over the last year... sam doesn’t know that john hates himself more than anyone could ever hate him for all those reasons and more. and that’s not to say he’s absolved of his sins because he feels bad about them. but bucky had heard from yelena about john nearly walking straight off the edge of the elevator shaft when faced with those regrets… hard to argue about the asshole part though)

ava starr, who sam knows has some history with scott before going completely off the grid. she seems to have as much trouble playing with others and making nice as the rest of them. self-isolating. alone. doesn’t really spell ‘reliable teammate’ does it? (sam wasn’t there during the fight. he doesn’t know that she was the first to suggest going after yelena in the void. he doesn’t know that she’s the first one to throw herself into danger to protect the people she cares about. that she would always come back for them and never leave anyone behind in battle)

and who the hell is this bob guy anyway???

it was all wrong. they were never a real team. not to sam. not to the public either. they're not cut out to be heros and everyone knows it.

but bucky? bucky who was the winter soldier. who was a former asset, though, against his will. who's killed a lot more people than john walker ever could. who has trouble nurturing his friendships and is alone more times than not. who is lucky enough to be one of bob’s friends.

for the first time since this had happened to them all, bucky gets defensive. protective of this thing they had made their own. hearing sam speak about all the reasons why the others weren't good people and realizing how much he has in common with them really puts things into perspective.

sam doesn’t mean to offend bucky. bucky isn’t like them after all. he’s different. but bucky isn’t so sure that’s true.

defensive and faced with their differences, bucky decides to leave without telling sam that the team was done and goes for a long walk. he has a lot to think about.

back at avengers tower, ava, the first to come back, finds yelena and bob asleep on opposite ends of the couch. a movie still on the tv. she turns the volume down and settles into the reclining chair for the night.

the next morning they awake to john loudly complaining about the mess left out. bob volunteers to clean up and do the dishes.

ava and john quietly acknowledge the other came back. but they don’t make a big deal about it.

bucky returns to the tower next. yelena teases him. says that he looks awful. like he hasn’t slept. bucky knows it's her way of saying that it was good to have him back. her way of apologizing for how they’d left things. bucky keeps the mood light. jokes that this is where is bed was so of course he didn’t sleep. they don’t talk about it any further, just an unspoken agreement to let bygones be bygones.

this is when alexei returns. he teases yelena about how cute she and bob were, snoring away on the couch. sleeping like the dead. yelena tries to protest that she doesn’t snore but doesn’t get the chance — not that anyone would have believed her.

alexei ushers them into another room where he's set up a huge party while they were sleeping, with mel’s help, of course, to celebrate their 1 year anniversary as a team. it hasn't been one year yet technically, but alexei insists it’s close enough (and "happy anniversary" was the only cake topper left at the market so they’d just have to go with it).

alexei gets emotional about how much the team means to him. and about how much he knows it means to yelena. how they need to do better. to really be there for one another.

yelena, teary-eyed, accepts a hug from her dad. says she doesn’t blame anyone for their mistakes at valentina’s stupid publicity event. being honest, they never should’ve agreed to go to begin with.

bob repeats what yelena had told him the night before. that family fights but they always come back together.

ava apologizes for being the first to leave. she promises not to assume the worst anymore and to stick around, even when it gets tough.

john jokes that the team is better with him on it anyway. what with his practical skillset. no one is amused. but he admits that maybe, just maybe, he’s better with the team at his side too.

everyone turns to bucky. it’s his turn now.

it looks painful for him, but bucky opens up about how being open to friendships is a reoccurring issue for him, according to his therapit anyway. this is the first time he’s had people who truly understand the things he’s been though. who have been through some of those same things. this is all new to him: the whole letting people in thing. but he's making an effort to learn to trust them. they'll just need to be a little patient with him.

john commends him for the beautiful speech. bucky tells him to shut up. they enjoy alexei’s party.

mel calls valentina to let her know the crisis has been averted. and to cancel the attack she was planning for new york, for god's sake.

[onika-t-maraj]

…

[disastertwins9000]

more of the ditf au from this post

this is the better art i had and i was waiting to post it

so like i said in the last post jason finds out tim’s not rly looked after (probably not canon but ive decided he isn’t AND they legally get to keep tim idk don’t ask me) so now like either dick or alfred foster tim (bc jason’s still sixteen) and tim moves into the manor and becomes Batkid.

Jason has been struggling with Bruce’s death and so taking care of Tim has become something he can focus on, and obviously Dick and Alfred are worried bc Jason was totally killing people just a second ago but i think they’d ask him to go to therapy and he’d actually go because he wants to be the best he can mentally to help raise Tim.

Tim is their (currently) foster brother but Jason is basically everything Tim never had in a parent. Dick sees how seriously Jason takes all this but knows that Jason is still a kid and makes sure he gets a break often enough to not worry about taking care of someone else. then when Damian shows up Dick is out in space, and so now Jason is a single mom with two kids and is praying Dick will hurry his ass up and come home (obviously alfred is a huge help he just wants his older brother home)

when dick gets back he’s like “bro i left you for how long and you got another whole ass kid” and then he totally sees how Damian looks like his dead adoptive dad and then goes mama mode on that little bean and adopts him while he’s at it

when Jay is old enough Tim asks Jason to adopt him and bro totally cries his eyes out. Tim has been waiting for Jason to be old enough to be adopted into the family, not that he doesn’t like Dick, quite the opposite he loves his biggest brother, but jay and tim saved each other and the feels are hard to explain but yeah he wants jay to adopt him. Dick adopted Damian right away but when Jason is old enough Damian asked for them to have split custody of him, because he’s always had both his big brothers to look after him and he wouldn’t have it any other way

Tim becomes the Batkid Dick is still Nightwing and Jason is Red Robin up until Damian is old enough to become Robin, then i think Tim would be old enough to become Batman and Jason would become Red Hood (i’m actually still debating if he would be red hood or smth else but i’m sticking with red hood for now) i also gave him a more Arkham Night lookin outfit bc he’s got the cute ears that might remind him of his dad

there’s probably some other stuff i wanted to say but missed but oh well, thanks to @foerchen for letting me rant and also helping me decide on things here and there, ily <33

[astars-things]

Private argument turned public

based on the comment Lando wrote on the Mclaren Instagram page 

Y/n Hughes x Lando Norris

"Lando seriously," You said trying to film a challenge video between him and Oscar, but Lando was refusing to cooperate, you both had a strict rule that when you both are at work you guys are just colleagues, especially when it came to filming content for the team

"It’s literally just a ‘Who Knows Me Better’ challenge between you and Oscar. All you have to do is sit down, smile, and pretend you like each other for ten minutes." you explained, you were stressed, trying to film this, get pictures done and everything else and Lando wasn't making it any easier for you

Oscar sat on the orange McLaren beanbag, already mic’d up and ready, casually scrolling through his phone. He looked up, raising his eyebrows as Lando continued pacing behind the cameras, hands on his hips, lips pressed into a frown.

“I’m just not in the mood,” Lando muttered, running a hand through his hair. “This whole thing is stupid.” You stood there trying not to snap, this was your job at the end of the day, you weren't his girlfriend right now you were a part of the social media team. You both knew to keep relationship drama outside of work, "give us a minute" You said to the team and Oscar as you grabbed Lando's hand and walked over to a small area

"You going to tell me what the fuck is going on?" you questioned looking into Lando's eyes, "I just don’t feel like being fake today. This stuff is dumb, and you’re being bossy about it." Lando whispered his tone full of attitude, you stood there trying to figure out what to do, at the end of the day this was your job, "Stop being a fucking toddler do this video and we will talk later" You whispered your tone full of anger, you walked away and went back to where the team and Oscar was

Lando walked back a minute after you grabbing his mic with a dramatic sigh. Once he sat down on the other beanbag, you gave them their cards, which had questions for the other person, the environment was tense, Lando barely smiled and Oscar was trying to keep the banter going, once the video was done you took the sd card out of the camera and gave it to the editors while you work on the promotion post of Instagram 

@.McLaren who knows who better is it @.Landonorris or @.oscarpiastri 

To find out who won on our YouTube 

View comments 

@.Landonorris  Next time maybe film with someone who actually likes being on camera 😅 

 →@.user2 Someone’s sleeping on the couch tonight 

→@.user3 Maybe you should keep this private 

you felt your work phone buzz, so you checked the notifications and when you saw Lando's comment you saw red, now he decided to embarrass you on social media which was a new low for him. You just decided to ignore him and just let him throw a temper tantrum, when you felt your personal phone buzz you were worried but seeing your brothers had messaged you made you anxious 

Jack Jack you and Lando okay? saw his Instagram comment

Lukey🐀  Did you and Lando break up?!! 

Huggy bear🧸 give me a call when you can 

you didn't know how to react, Lando had dragged an argument publicly for fans, your family, friends and many others to see. You put on a brave face and picked up your bag and camera and went to take photos. You headed out to the paddock, pretending your hands weren’t shaking and your eyes weren’t burning with unshed tears. You snapped photos of cars rolling out, of Oscar chatting with mechanics, of the orange blur that was your job and your world. You didn’t trust yourself to go near Lando’s side of the garage.

by the time you got to the hotel room the environment felt toxic, you felt like you couldn't breathe "So that’s it?" Lando snapped. "You're just gonna act like I’m the villain in all this?"

You froze. "You posted that comment, Lando. I have my brothers messaging me if you and I have broken up, you took a private argument and made it public for everyone to see" You snapped. The fight escalated fast. Words flew faster than thoughts. Every buried frustration, every jab you hadn’t said earlier, came tumbling out in raised voices and sharp edges.

"Do you even understand how hard it is for me to be taken seriously when I’m dating a driver? Do you know how many people think I only have this job because of you?!" You shouted your voice cracking trying not to cry, trying to seem weak Lando went quiet. His jaw clenched, eyes cold. "Maybe we’re just better when we’re not working together."

That one stung.

Your heart pounded painfully in your chest, your breath short and uneven. The walls of the hotel room felt like they were closing in. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe past the anxiety gripping your ribs like a vice. “I can’t do this right now,” you whispered, trembling.

Lando was silent for once, watching as you backed away from him, blinking hard to keep from breaking down completely. You grabbed your phone out of your pocket finding the contact you needed, you pressed your phone to your ear and slowly walked to the bathroom "Who are you calling?" he asked quietly. You ignored him, once you were in the bathroom you locked the door slid down the cooling tiles and just sat there 

"Hey, Zak... I have a family emergency I need to leave tonight."

He didn’t ask questions just told you to take whatever time you needed.

Fifteen minutes later, you had your suitcase packed and a one-way ticket booked to New Jersey. You didn’t say goodbye. You didn’t trust yourself to. 

You Knocked on Jack's door, and as soon as he opened it you were in his arms crying. Jack didn’t ask questions. He just held you tighter. 

please reblog and like 🫶

Part two -> here

[nereidprinc3ss]

strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

series masterlist

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 

Stupid scarf, you think. 

Stupid door. 

Stupid wind. 

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 

You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 

Stupid Lord Byron. 

Stupid cafe. 

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 

“How did you do that?” 

His cheeks turn slightly pink. 

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 

He was totally in love with me. 

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 

Spencer. Spencer. 

It feels important. 

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 

Spence. 

Reality sets in. 

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away. 

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 

“Who was that?” 

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 

Adorable? Get a grip. 

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 

So that’s cool. 

You’re cool with that. 

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 

Nah. Boys are dumb. 

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh. 

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard. 

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again. 

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 

But his job is important. 

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm. 

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 

“I would.” 

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles. 

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 

He says none of that. 

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird. 

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 

-

part four

[l1tw1ck]

Sponsored by Stark

Dom!Bottom!Tony x Sub!Top!Masc Virgin Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,358 ☆

AFAB Language Used | Event Request

CW: Dubious Consent, Age Difference, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Semi-Public Sex,

After retiring from hero work, Tony opened up an academy to teach hopeful heroes, tech lovers, and future entrepreneurs. The academy teaches students starting from age 14 and above. It's a combination of high school and college. There are a lot of campuses all over New York. You finished high school in Midtown High and applied to join the academy. Tony loved your application so much that he awarded you with a special scholarship. It’s only granted to one person every four years. After your first meeting with him, he offered to buy you dinner. You didn't think it was strange. Why would it be?

You look up at Tony with an anxiety filled and hesitantly lustful gaze. He came onto you during dinner and you were afraid you’d lose your scholarship if you denied him. You were also afraid you'd seriously regret giving up the chance to fuck him. So now you're staring at his pussy as he grinds down on your clothed cock. His t-dick is poking out of his bush of hair and the sight makes you worry you’ll come too early.

“Don't worry about getting a job anymore. I’ll pay for everything you need.” He rolls his head back. “Gonna get you a credit card..use it whenever.”

You feel more like a prostitute than a scholarship student.

“Fuck…ever been with an older guy before?” He asks. You can't deny that he looks so fucking sexy like this. The way he's rubbing his pussy on your boner is definitely helping you forget why you were nervous in the first place. Your underwear is drenched with his slick. It's undeniably hot.

“Never…with anyone.”

“Yeah?” He breathes out. “Good. I’ll take the lead.” He stops and leans into your neck, sloppily kissing it and as he removes your boxers. He moves away from your face and leans his body closer to your cock. He points at the part of his stomach where the tip of your cock is. “That's how deep you’ll be inside me.”

He grips your shoulders and hovers over your cock. You gulp. He sinks himself down onto your length, a confident smirk plastered on his face.

“I haven’t done it in so long–” He moans as you completely fill him up, his back arched. He rolls his hips and strokes his t-dick. Seeing a guy like him use you like a toy is too hot for your own good. You never knew you were into this kind of thing. You could probably come just like this. You’ll try not to though, it wouldn't turn out well if you got him pregnant. “You want me to move, baby?”

“I…I wanna see you come first.”

“If that's what you want.” He strokes himself harder. Your heart is racing. You can feel it as he reaches his peak. His cunt is giving you nice, wet hugs. He rolls his head back, his pussy seizing its movements for a moment before resuming. He squirts, his slick covering your face. You lick your lips. You’ve been able to stop yourself from coming this whole time but you're not sure how much longer you’ll last.

He grinds down on you and moves his hand away from his sensitive cock. After a while, he eventually starts riding you. You don't think you’ll be able to last.

“Wa- wait- wait—” You panic. “I’m- I think–”

“It's okay, sweetheart.” He keeps bouncing. “I can't get pregnant.”

You would let out a long sigh of relief if it weren't for your sudden orgasm. You bite down on your lip as he keeps going despite that. It feels good and insanely overwhelming. You can't believe you just came inside Tony fucking Stark. “‘s too- too much-” You moan.

“I’m not satisfied yet. You’ll let Daddy keep bouncing on your cock, won't you, baby?”

You nod. “Ye- yes-”

“Good boy~” He lets out a satisfied sigh. “Letting Daddy use you like a cute little toy.” He loves the way your body is reacting. You're so inexperienced and sensitive, he knows he’ll have a lot of fun with you. He’s glad he changed careers. You stare at your cum spilling out with each thrust. It's so erotic you feel like you're gonna pass out.

Tony notices the subject of your gaze. “You like that? How your cum drips out of my pussy? Hm?” He grins. “Wanna keep filling me up, baby?”

You nod rapidly. “Yes- yes, Daddy-”

His body stutters as he comes again. He stops, his walls flexing around your cock again. Tony leans into your ear. “You know what a mating press is?” He asks.

You shudder. “Ye- yeah-” You grab his waist and manage to flip yourselves over. Sweat drips down your forehead as you grab Tony’s thighs. You move him into position and just looking at him like this makes you come again. Your cock starts to soften. “Sorry-”

“‘S okay, baby. It's cute.” He laughs. “We can keep working on your endurance another time.”

You walk into Tony’s office, wearing an outfit he bought for you. As he stands up, you notice his belt is unbuckled and his pants are unzipped. He leans against the wall and you instantly make your way over to him.

“I’ve been waiting for you all day.” His hands slither onto your shoulders, his soft lips graze your ear. “I couldn’t stop touching myself. I had to cancel my meeting this afternoon.”

Your breath hitches.

“Are you gonna help me, sweetheart?”

“Yeah-” You watch him pull away from you and remove his pants and underwear. He shows the damp spot in his white boxers to you. You're already hard. He motions for you to kneel, making you feel like a dog. You look at his pussy eagerly, excited to see it up close. You already know what he wants you to do.

You wrap your lips around his t-cock and suck it.

“Yes~ like that, baby-” He shivers. You slip two fingers inside him, one at a time, and try your best to finger him properly. Your mouth on his cock is more than enough to distract him from your noob-ness. He doesn't seem to care about the amount of noise he's making either. Given his personality, you don't feel any anxiety over it. No one would dare enter his office when they hear him. “Fuck, right there~!” His hip thrusts involuntarily. You managed to find his g-spot. You do your best to pleasure him with it and by the sound of his voice and the clenching you feel around your fingers, you know you're doing a good job.

“Yes– yes—!” He squirts. This time you get to really taste him. You slowly move your head back, a line of spit connecting you to his cock, then lap your tongue all over his pussy. Tony twitches with pleasure.

You stop, then look at him like a puppy awaiting orders. He curls his index and middle finger, signifying that he wants you to stand up. He quickly frees your boner from your pants. “I still have one more meeting today.” He takes your wrists and has you hold onto his waist. He mouths ‘hold me’ so you pick him up. “But since you come so fast, I’ll let you fuck me.”

You press your forehead onto his shoulder. “Thank you-” You breathe out, sinking into his cunt. “You- you feel so good, Daddy-” He's sopping wet.

Tony wraps his arms around you as you sloppily thrust inside him. Your desperation turns him on so much.

“Can I- fuck- can I come inside?”

“Mhm~” He hums. “‘M gonna keep it inside. Walk around with your cum in me.”

You shudder, your cock shooting ropes of cum inside him. His laugh is breathless and lustful. “You're too cute.” He smiles as you bring him to his desk, laying him in a way to prevent your cum from spilling out as well as you can. You grab his boxers and slip them onto him.

You watch as he stands up and fixes himself up to look presentable. “I’ll see you tonight.” He winks, leaving the room.

[whatswrongwithblue]

Girl Talk

Part Two of my Imagines with Angel Dust.

“So Alastor, he’s like all . . .” Angel Dust made strange gestures with his hands above his head, his thumbs pressed to his hair and fingers splayed out, and you were fairly certain he was trying to mimic antlers growing. “. . . murder-y and shit right? Even if he’s at the hotel, you can’t expect us to believe he’s stopped doing all that.”

It was late at night and you and Angel were at the bar, keeping Husk company, and nursing a couple of cocktails.

Alastor had disappeared hours ago, which wasn’t unusual, but it was getting late. You weren’t letting yourself be worried just yet, he was the Radio Demon after all, and could certainly take care of himself. But you couldn’t help being a little on edge. Alastor always came home but still. He could give you an idea of where he had gone off to and what he was doing when he took off like this.

“Why, are you going to tattle to Charlie if I say he is?” you said, a little too defensively.

“Hey, I ain’t no rat,” Angel said, also defensive. “I’m just trying to figure the guy out.”

“He’s still the Radio Demon,” you respond vaguely.

“Oh well that tells me everything.” Angel rolled his eyes.

Husk chuckled, wiping a glass dry.  

“He’s a serial killer and a cannibal. The day that guy stops doing all that is the day I’ll stop drinking and gambling.”

You scowl over the rim of your cocktail.

“You make him sound like a monster when you say it like that.”

Husk raised an eyebrow at you.

“Excuse me if I ain’t your boytoy’s number one fan. ‘Sides, not like anything I said wasn’t true.”

“Hey, he’s not out their killing all willy nilly, right?” Angel offered. “I mean, I pissed him off the other day and he let me go. Val woulda done way worse. So that means he’s got a type, I’m assuming? Like a uh . . . a demographic . . . of people he kills. If you ain’t that, he’ll still be creepy and fucking weird, but you’re probably safe.”

“Probably,” you smirk.

“Whatever,” Husk said with a grumble, and threw his towel over his shoulder, turning his back on the two of you.

“So, about those tentacles-“

“No,” you snapped, cutting off Angel’s sentence before it could be finished.

“Oh come on! You can’t leave me hanging like that!”

You just rolled your eyes and sighed, taking another sip of your drink.

“Oh . . . hanging, now there’s a thought,” Angel pressed on. “So suspensory play, huh? I bet those are really fun for that. Just how talented is the guy with those things? Because I bet with some practice, you could even use them for some interesting kind of Shibari. Or is he unimaginative and just shoves them right up your-“

“Angel, seriously, did you not learn your lesson last time?”

“Oh I learned my lesson all right. I learned how hot it is. So c’mon, admit it,” he teased, leaning closer to you, “you guys are into bondage.”

You laughed, unable to hide the sly smile on your face, but said nothing.

“I guess it makes sense,” Angel continued, “the guy does own souls. He’s probably gotta have that type of control in the bedroom.”

“You just go ahead and let your imagination run wild, my friend,” you said with a giggle.

“Baby, my imagination can run marathons,” Angel bragged. Then suddenly, he turned serious and looked over at you. “Wait, does he own your soul?”

Husk turned around and both men were now looking at you. Knowing both of their predicaments, you almost felt bad for your answer.

“No,” you said quietly.

“NO?!” Angel yelled, slapping his hand down on the bar counter.

‘No,” you repeated.

“But . . . but, that’s what he does. I mean, he even owns Niffty’s soul. So why are you with him-“

“Angel,” you interrupted, putting your hand on his arm. “I’m with him because I love him. Because I choose to be.” You said your words firmly, making sure your point was crystal clear. “And anyway, Alastor’s not the type to sleep with a soul he owns. It’s hard to explain his twisted moral code but he would think that was rude . . . or abusive . . . or just trashy. No offense.”

You knew about Angel’s forced and strained deal with Valentino and felt awkward, exposing the stark differences between your relationship and theirs.

“If I was making him sound like a monster, you’re making him sound like a fucking angel,” Husk said.

“Fair,” you agreed. “So, he’s complicated. But so am I.”

“So you really are into monster fucking. Got it,” Angel said, sounding deadly serious but when you looked at him, you saw the hint of a smile beginning to spread across his face.

“Wellllll,” you said, drawing out the word and giving Angel a side eye, “sometimes he has to blow off some steam. And those antlers are great for holding onto for balance.”

Angel choked on the drink he was taking a sip from.

“Now we’re talking,” Angel replied, eagerly leaning towards you again.

You held up a finger, stopping Angel from invading your space anymore. “That’s more than enough information for now.”

“Let me get this straight. He’s got the tentacles, he’s got the antlers,” Angel listed, holding up a finger for each item on his list. He held up a third finger, looking at you and tilting his head expectantly. “Say, you ever have a threesome with his shadow?”

You felt your face heating up, desperately trying to keep your composure and think of a witty response that wouldn’t give anything more away than your expression was, when thankfully you were saved by the front doors of the hotel slamming open.

Alastor walked in, his usual confident walk more of an exhausted shuffle, and he was covered head to toe in blood and the occasional clump or string of viscera.

“Holy shit buddy,” Angel exclaimed, “looks like you bit off more than you can chew.”

“I’m fine,” Alastor huffed and waved his hand dismissively. “Splendid, really. Just need some cleaning up.”

“Do you need any help?” you asked, sounding more flirty than concerned.

“Down girl,” Alastor replied and tapped you on the head with his microphone as he strode past you. “I’ll see you all in the morning.”

He evaporated into shadow as he reached the staircase.

“If he could just do that, then why’d he have to make a show of walking through the front doors?” Angel complained, “He left bloody footprints all over the lobby!”

“That’s Al’ for you,” Husk said, “Always gotta be dramatic.”

You sat in silence, ignoring the two men’s banter and you gripped the glass of your cocktail, staring at it as if it had your entire focus.

A few moments went by where no one said anything and the lull in conversation became awkward.

“You don’t have to stay down here, you know,” Angel offered. “I can tell you want to go sexually attack him.”

You nodded. “I need to go lick every inch of that man clean,” you said and headed upstairs.

Part 3

[g4rvez-r3id]

Dream A Little Dream

Bf! Spencer Reid x Gf!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Spencer comes home from work and finds you sleeping in bed and he’s completely mesmerized by you as you sleep.

Category: Fluff

Warnings: spencer likes watching you sleep (but not in a creepy way), fluffiest of the fluff, cuddling, talks about weird dreams and dream analysis, spencer is completely infatuated with you 🤭

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! i got this idea bc i love love love cuddling fics with reid 🤭 i wish this man were real so bad :( anyways i hope you enjoy this hehe

“Honey, I’m home,” Spencer smiled gently to himself as he heard the words leave his mouth. He never imagined he’d ever say that out loud to anyone. But now he had you. It was as if he still couldn’t believe it every time he said it.

He’d called out to you but there had been no answer. Granted, it was three in the morning, he figured you were probably asleep by now.

Spencer softly closed the door and he placed his satchel down by the door and removed his converse off from his feet, placing them next to your shoes near the table they’d had near the door. He scrunches his nose as his mismatched socks (he’d opted for a light blue sock paired with a yellow sock with patterns on it) patter on the floor as he walks towards the kitchen.

By the evidence on the stove, you’d made chicken Alfredo pasta. A good chunk of the pasta is left on the stove — you most likely saved it for him because you worry about how skinny he is — and he smiles to himself. At least you ate.

He makes his way over to your guys’ shared bedroom and that’s when he sees it. You’re on the bed, sleeping soundly and bundled up under the covers but sprawled across the bed, holding his pillow, no less and wearing one of his old CalTech sweatshirts. On the bed is your laptop laid far away but not too far where it would fall off the bed. No, it looked like you were in the middle of work and decided to take a break and instead had fallen asleep.

Spencer leans against the doorframe with crossed arms and a warm smile as he watches you sleep. He’d often took advantage of the times where he’d come in from work late.

He liked watching you sleep. But not in a total creep kinda way, absolutely not. He more so liked seeing you so well-rested since you were always up on your feet, dealing with work and stress and never really taking a break from anything since you were so independent. It was one of the many things he liked about you. But in all seriousness, it might’ve been his favorite thing about you.

He adored the way your nose would scrunch while you slept and the way that you snored softly into the pillow. Sometimes, you’d even had a dribble of drool onto the pillow and he even found that cute. He’d found everything cute about you.

Eventually, he’d had enough of just looking at you and decided to join you. The first thing he’d done was remove and close your laptop and carefully place it on the dresser. He even opts to put it on the charger for you.

He begins slipping off his slacks along with his dress shirt and cardigan and puts on a gray t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms and quietly climbed into the covers next to you.

He carefully places his hand on your arm and rubs it soothingly and you stir a bit and scrunch your nose up once more and open your eyes to see your boyfriend, smiling warmly at you.

“Hi, honey.” He whispers and you inhale deeply as you smile sleepily at him. “You’re home!” You cheer tiredly as you scoot closer to him, you head resting on his chest and inhaling his scent as you snuggle as close as you can to him.

“I am home,” He smiles as he holds you impossibly closer. He looks down at you as you keep your eyes closed and hold him as tight as you can. “Are you okay, sweet girl?”

You nod into his chest as you open your eyes and look up at him. “I’m perfect, now that you’re here.” Spencer smiles softly at you as you rest your head again on his chest.

“Were you in dreamland?” Spencer asks with a crooked smile.

There was an abundance of times where you’d dream strange dreams. Like one time you were being chased by a hot dog or the other time you were awake on a gurney while doctors performed open-heart surgery on you. Point of the matter was, you had weird dreams.

And you could brush those off as getting food poisoning from a hot dog and never eating them again or when you fell asleep watching Grey’s Anatomy but you always dug deeper into your dreams.

Like you being chased by a hot dog could meet something that’s entirely harmless is causing you stress or overwhelming you. Or the fact that maybe you had a fear or an anxiety of being awake while having open heart surgery. You were one of the few people in Spencer Reid’s life that read into your dreams. He wasn’t one to believe in dream analysis, but you did. And so he’d often asked what you dreamed about this time, since you had dreams like that so often.

“Mhm,” You smack your lips with a sigh and curled up impossibly deeper into his chest. “This time, I was flying without wings.” You said and he furrowed his brows with an amused smile on his face. “Flying without wings?”

You nod once more, “I was suddenly floating and all of a sudden, I was falling and right before I hit the ground, I woke up.” You told him and he thinks to himself at this.

“When you dream about falling and then suddenly wake up just before hitting the ground, it's usually due to a "hypnic jerk,"” Spencer tells, being the rambler he was. And you gladly listened every time. The first time you’d gone out with him, he kept apologizing about his rambles about whatever was on his mind. You assured him that you really didn’t mind, you loved listening to him talk.

“It’s an involuntary muscle contraction that happens when your body is transitioning between wakefulness and sleep, often interpreted by your brain as a sensation of falling, causing you to jolt awake.” Spencer tells and you shrug, “Yeah, it was something like that.”

Spencer smiles softly, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear as he rubs your back, back and forth with his hand. You drifted off for a moment before looking back up at him and he kept his eyes trained right on you. Like you were his only given vice, something worth living for and fighting for. To which, you were. To him, at least.

“How was work?” You asked and he turned away from you as he answers, “We can talk about it later.” Which was code for, ‘I really don’t want to talk about it right now but I mean it when I say we can talk about it later’. And when he was ready, he’d talk about with you. Eventually, he did.

“Right now, I just wanna stay here with you.” Spencer told and you smile into his chest, “I missed you.” You tell and he chuckles, “I missed you, too, sweet girl. And I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You snuggled with him, hiking your leg across his torso and holding onto him as you closed your eyes and your breathing evened once more. He smiles, looking down at you and not wanting to move a muscle to disrupt you. He probably wouldn’t get much sleep tonight since he’d be too busy staring at your sleeping features and silently thanking God you were in his life and that he could share these moments with you.

And in the morning, he’d tell you that he asked Hotch for a few days off in advance because he wanted to spend as much time as he could with you. Your guys’ schedules always seemed to be opposites and the only time you’d ever really get together is in bed, like this. You deserved a few days to be with him and he you.

But for now, he’d let you sleep and veer off into dreamland again.

[cakelitter]

Doll Repair

Sweet Kidnapper! Leon x Fem! Reader

warnings: dead dove, p in v, daddy kink, pet names, praise, glass cuts, blood (not in a sexual way lol)

summary: Kept away from prying hands and unwanted glances, all his to love. Filling that gaping hole in his chest, and emptying his cluttered brain. That may have cost you your entire personality and the rest of your life; but all is well as long as the two of you have each other.

words: 2k

a\n: i'm back!!! you have no idea how much i missed this. Leon is so sweet and protective in this one. God, i love sweet old men :(

It’s been 398 days since he made the best decision of his life, usually Leon’s decisions never have prospering outcomes; however, he definitely lucked out on this one.

You’ve fully adapted to this lifestyle that you were—with all love and care—forced into. He likes to think that it’s better for you this way; sure, you’ve been living the same day over and over again for the past weeks you’ve stayed with him.

But on the bright side, you don’t have to deal with the shit that other people your age have to deal with. While other college students worry about housing and tuition, eating the same cup ramen for dinner. His act of generosity (kidnapping you) has saved you all that trouble.

Leon takes care of everything, paying the bills, feeding you, buying you clothes, washes said clothes, and the list goes on. Keeping you safe in the bubble he created so that pretty brain of yours doesn’t work too hard.

You’re his favorite hobby.

As soon as he walks through that front door, agent Kennedy is long forgotten —crumbled up and tossed aside until he needs to save the day again.

You’re perfect.

Perfectly sculpted by his hands to fit into the mold that suits his lifestyle best. Truthfully, he’s not sure what your true personality is like. You went through phases, eyes wide open as adrenaline rushed through your veins whenever he came too close. The only time you got sleep is when you’d hyperventilate and pass out.

Then the determination arc began, begrudgingly swatting his hands away, venom dripping from each word you spoke—shattered his heart into bits.

And while this phase lasted a little longer than he would’ve liked. It was nonetheless a cloud that passed just like the one before it.

Tears beaded along your lash line, completely isolating yourself and refusing to eat. Considered starting to plan your funeral, one which he would be the only one attending.

 And while Leon doesn’t pray anymore—by an act of a miracle—it only took two weeks before crying because of him, turned into crying in his arms. Glad he didn’t have to flush you down a toilet like a fish, he wasn’t in the right headspace when he came up with that plan.

Ever since that breakthrough you’ve been nothing short than on your best behavior, reciprocating his affection and touch; the way things were supposed to be from the start. Where you always this loving? Always this clingy? Well, you now are.

His little treasure.

Kept away from prying hands and unwanted glances, all his to love. Filling that gaping hole in his chest, and emptying his cluttered brain. That may have cost you your entire personality and the rest of your life; but all is well as long as the two of you have each other.

 And while he takes his job of protecting you very seriously, practically baby-proofing his entire house, mistakes can still slip through.

As he walks through the front door of the place you both call home, your absence next to the door; tail swaying back and forth to greet him since last seeing him this morning doesn’t go unnoticed.

He calls out your name a few times, perhaps you’re asleep somewhere. That has happened a few times before, but seeing you curled up into a ball in the corner of the dark living room with tears streaming down your face is a first.

“Sweetheart?”

Your glossy eyes look up at him, lips quivering as they lock with his.

“I’m sorry.”

Reaching towards the light switch, the room lights up revealing your weeping figure. And that’s when he sees it, bloodied handprints smeared all over your thighs and arms. His heart drops, worst-case scenarios popping into his head before a single coherent thought can from.

What could you have possibly done?

The knife drawer is locked shut—triple checked that before he left— and you don’t have access to any razor-sharp object either.

“I’m so sorry.”

Stepping closer, he slowly makes his was over to your hunched form. “Hey, hey it’s okay.”

With his empty palms facing you, you allow him to kneel in front of you.

“Talk to me, baby.” he practically whispers.

“I’m sorry, daddy. I didn’t mean to break it.”

His hand reaches towards your cheek, his thumb brushing against the soft skin; noticing the way you flinch at his touch. “What did you break?”

“The glass.”

“Glass what?”

“Please don’t get mad.”

Your voice breaks before you start sobbing again. Taking in a deep breath, his hand runs through your hair while the other runs up and down your exposed calf soothingly. “I promise I won’t be mad, sweetheart. Just tell me what it is.”

“The glass- the glass cup.”

Those fucking cups, should’ve known to throw those away. In his defense, he didn’t hand them over to you on a silver platter. Took him five months before letting you switch from plastic to normal fucking forks for crying out loud.

Rubbing his temple, he nods slowly. “Did the glass hurt you?”

You nod, tears flowing slower than before yet still watching his every move attentively. “Can you show me where?”

Removing your hands off of your upper arms, you open your trembling palms to him. He places his large hands beneath yours, carefully inspecting the surface; small cuts are littered all over the area with fresh blood seeping through the injured skin.

“Gotta wash your hands. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

Nodding again, he helps you get up before leading you into the bathroom, turning on the faucet and placing your hands beneath the cool water. You both watch as the blood tainted liquid washed down the drain, Leon’s hand rubbing your waist gently.

Your crying calmed down, leaving behind only a few sniffles and winces from the pain. Grabbing a clean tissue, he gently pats your hands dry, making sure to not put too much pressure on the scathed area; then proceeding to wipe the blood streaks strewn over your body.

“I’m gonna go grab the first aid kit, go sit on the couch, baby.” He ushers, deep blue eyes cutting through your thread of thought.

Doing as your told, you walk out of the room leaving him to search for the first aid kit beneath the bathroom cabinet before following pursuit.

It feels like he’s been picking glass shards for eternity, each tiny piece engraved in your delicate hands. He makes sure however to reward you with praise every now and then to keep you going.

‘You’re doing so good, baby.’

‘Such a strong girl, huh.’

‘Almost done, sweetheart.’

With enough patience and a few more tears each time the alcohol met your cuts, it’s not long before he’s wrapping your hands in bandages after disinfecting the surface for the last time.

“Thank you, daddy.” You mutter, scooching closer and curling up on his side like a cat. “No problem, baby.”

Leaning in, he plops a soft kiss on the crown of your head; rough hands running up and down your back comfortingly.

Your fingers manage to tug on his shirt, demanding another kiss. He chuckles lowly, grabbing your chin and placing his lips onto yours. Your lips are slightly chapped, juxtaposing their usual soft nature. And while it feels like you’re fishing for the right opportunity, you manage to straddle his lap; keeping your lips on his.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling your chest flush against his. “What’re you doing, hm?”

He asks, softly nibbling on your lips. “Apologizing for making daddy worry?”

You nod, grinding onto his crotch; the rough material of his jeans rubbing against your panty clad clit. Slipping his hands down and onto your hips, he guides their motion. Rocking them while thrusting upwards to apply more pressure onto your clothed cunt.

 You bite your lip as slick pools on the gusset of your panties. “Daddy.”

“Tell me, sweetheart.”

You moan in response, forgetting what you were planning on saying as all your thoughts turn into mush. “Aw, cute pussy just wants to cum? Is that it?”

 “She just wants to use daddy to get off, huh?” You shake your head; unable to grab his shirt in your hand like you normally do. You’re so cute when you try to make things up for him, he finds it endearing. Always trying to bridge a gap that doesn’t even exist.

“Don’t lie, sweetheart. You only want daddy’s cock.” You shake your head even harder, eyes however still focused on the area your hips are rutting against. “Want to make daddy happy.”

He chuckles, connecting your lips together. “I’m just messing with you, doll.”

 His lips go for your neck, hungrily sucking and biting on the tender flesh; leaving a new bruise to make up for the ones that just started fading out. You whine and whimper, muscles tense as your high approaches.

“Soak those panties, and cum for me so I can stuff this needy cunt.”

And with enough filthy words whispered in your ear, and enough kisses scattered on your neck, you squeeze down on nothing as you reach your peak.

Leon drinks up the expression on your face each time, his obsession, a face that is burnt in the back of his mind reserved only for him.  

Wasting no time, he picks you up and heads straight to your shared bedroom. Placing your gently on the bed like you’re made out of glass. He does quick work of his belt, discarding the piece of leather on the floor, the rest of his clothes following pursuit.

You lay flat on your back, bandaged palms facing the ceiling as you watch him approach you. His finger hooks on the band of your flimsy shorts, pulling them down swiftly along with your soaked panties. A few open-mouthed kisses land on your hips, his eyes focused on yours as he drops the last one on your clit before caging you between his arms.

He strokes himself a few times, angling the tip of his thick length at your entrance before thrusting in. You’d probably have died if he did that a few months back, but at this point he’s managed to stretch you out enough to fit him easily –what was once painful dulled into a sense of familiarity.

“Daddy.”

“Right here, baby. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

He fucks you deep and slow, earning a low moan out of the both of you with each thrust of his hips. “Squeezing me so well, sweetheart. That’s a good girl.”

Your hand reaches down to the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric and revealing your plump breasts; he can’t help but feel proud. His mouth latches onto one of your nipples, lapping at the tender peak with his tongue. You squirm beneath him, your walls squeezing around his throbbing dick causing him to grunt in return.

The slow thrusts begin to pick up speed. His tip knocking the opening of your cervix time and time again, the mixture of pleasure and pain almost euphoric. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cream my cock, sweetheart so I can fill you up.”

Listening like you always do, Leon watches as that same expression reappears on your face, your back arching off the mattress while slipping out his name in tandem. The once translucent fluid coating his length has already turned white by the time your body slumped back. Feeling lightheaded by the fluttering of your walls, the knot in his stomach snaps shooting ropes of cum till his balls went dry.

Your eyes begin to feel heavy as he pulls out and grabs a towel to clean you up. He smiles at the sound of your even breathing as you drift to sleep, giving your inner thigh a soft kiss before tucking you in bed.

“You still mad?”

A soft voice calls out for him. Walking up next to you, he tucks a few stray strands of hair behind your ears.

“Never was.”

Heading towards the kitchen, he turns the light on to be greeted with the expected sight of the incident. Sighing, he grabs the broom and begins cleaning the glass shards scattered on the floor.

Back to plastic cups it is.

divider by: @/fairytopea

[loonylupinblack3]

Overprotective

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, intoxication, suggestions of violence occurring (nothing actually happens just very brief suggestion)

Summary: Going to the club and getting drunk without your overprotective boyfriend is never a good idea

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: posting bc of max's win in china

Max had always been protective of you. Since as long as you can remember Max had acted like your protector, stopping you from doing risky things and helping you when you did them anyway and hurt yourself.

You were childhood best friends, having known each other since you were five and he was six, brought together by a love of karting. As time passed and the two of you grew up, your relationship stayed strong, but changed. Feelings grew between the two of you, though it took until you were 21 before you two did anything about it.

So you were used to Max’s slightly overprotective tendencies. It was second nature to you, as familiar to you as breathing. However, that didn’t mean it didn’t get on your nerves from time to time, like tonight for instance. You were supposed to be going out with your girlfriends to a newly opened club, but Max was having some trouble letting you go.

He raised his eyebrows when he saw you enter the living room from his seat on the couch, eyes roaming your body. You were wearing a cliche club outfit; short black dress, heels, and bangles on your arm. You could see the appreciativeness in Max’s gaze, but also concern.

“You look nice,” he said, putting his phone down.

You smiled and gave a little spin. “Thank you. It’s the dress I got on Tuesday.”

Max stayed silent for a moment, considering what to say. “You look very beautiful, Schatz, don’t get me wrong…. But is that what you’re wearing out?”

“Is there something wrong with it?”

Max hesitated again. “It’s just… it’s not very restaurant friendly.”

You made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth. You had wondered briefly why Max had been so calm about you going clubbing, but you’d brushed it off thinking he just didn’t mind it. Now you knew it was because he didn’t actually know.

“Well, Max, that’s because we’re going clubbing, not to a restaurant,” you say slowly, waiting with baited breath for his reaction.

Max blinked, surprised. “You’re what?”

“We’re going clubbing….”

Max opened his mouth then closed it, clearing his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged. “I thought you knew.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “You thought I knew you were going clubbing? Even though I didn’t say anything about it? Or warn you about drinking too much?”

You grimaced. “I know how it sounds but I genuinely didn’t realise you didn’t know.”

Max sighed. “I know, I trust you. I just don’t know if going clubbing is a good idea.”

“But it’s already been decided. And I got dressed up.”

You pouted slightly and Max rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m just worried about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. Me and the girls have sorted everything out.”

Max started. “You mean it’s just going to be you girls alone? What about Izzy’s boyfriend Liam? Or Kate’s boyfriend? They’re not going?”

“It’s a girls night,” you reminded him. “No boys allowed.”

“Schatz….” Max warned. “I don’t feel comfortable letting you go to the club alone.”

“I’m not going to be alone-”

“You’ll be with a group of girls, all of you vulnerable and easy to prey on,” Max said sternly. “I’m not trying to be mean, but without a man around you there are certain people who will take that as an opportunity to try and hurt you.”

You sighed. “I know Max, but we’re fine. We know one of the bartenders and he’s promised to keep an eye out for us, plus Liam will be driving us home so we have a ride. Seriously, you don’t need to worry.”

Max frowned, looking at your face for any trace of doubt. “I always worry about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Max continued thinking before eventually conceding, walking up to you and wrapping you into a tight hug. “Be safe,” he murmured into your ear.

You returned the embrace. “I always am.”

You pulled back, still in Max’s arms, and he tugged down your dress with a slight scowl. “Too short.”

You rolled your eyes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Goodbye Max.”

“Don’t drink too much,” Max said, “and text me when you’re coming home.”

You nodded your head and hugged him goodbye once more before leaving the apartment and your boyfriend. You knew he was worried, knew he’d probably be worried for the rest of the night and wait up for you, which made you feel guilty. He hadn’t prepared for you to go out clubbing, completely different from a tame meal at some restaurant, and you knew he’d be agonising over it for the rest of the night.

All you could do was answer his texts and make sure he knew you were safe. 

Except things didn’t go to plan.

You arrived at the club and everything was fine. You looked around, taking pictures of the new place, and greeted your bartender friend. You ordered some drinks and stayed by the bar for a bit, talking and catching up, before one of your wilder friends, Lily, suggested shots and then dancing. You weren’t much of a shot person, mostly because you were a lightweight, and you hadn’t planned on getting too drunk tonight but everyone was egging you on, and you didn’t want to be left out so you agreed, the four of you slamming down tequila shots like you did in college.

Then it was off to the dance floor, you, Lily, Kate and Izzy forming your own circle, dancing and laughing with one another. And you were having fun. You were feeling happy, giddy, and the only thing that would make this night better would be to have Max by your side.

You stepped out of the dance circle, moving back to the bar as you took out your phone. Noticing the multiple texts from Max left unanswered you felt a pang of guilt, but it was distant compared to the excitement you felt.

y/n: maxieeeeeeee

maxie❤️: you okay?

y/n: im the bset y/n: i mss yoi y/n: u shoud come tothe club

maxie❤️: are you drunk??

y/n: jst a litttle bit

y/n: lily siad shots

maxie❤️: you did shots? are you okay?

y/n: im grate

y/n: u should cmoe hree

y/n: i wnna party wth yoou

maxie❤️: already on my way

If you were sober, you probably would have picked up on the annoyed/concerned tone Max’s text had, but you were not sober, so you texted him a ��yaaaaayyyyy’ and turned your phone off, waiting for what you thought was going to be your party ready boyfriend.

Instead, after you’d had another shot with your friends and continued dancing, you found yourself face to face with your concerned and worried boyfriend.

“Maxie!” you slurred, throwing your arms around your boyfriend in a hug. “Come dance with me!”

Max chucked, trying not to show his concern, but his tight hold on your waist gave him away. You pulled back and looked at him. “You are going to dance with me, right?”

Max sighed, manoeuvring you so you were off the dance floor. You were almost too drunk to notice, just clinging onto your boyfriend. “I’m here to take you home.”

“But I don't want to go home. I’m happy here,” you whined like a child.

Max muttered under his breath, “did I or did I not tell you not to drink too much.”

You frowned at his bad attitude. “I just want to dance.”

He shot you a look. “You can dance at home where you're safe, not in a club full of strangers while drunk out of your mind.”

You pouted but your boyfriend had already made his decision, half dragging half carrying you to where he parked his car. You knew better than to fight Max when he was like this, even drunk, so you sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed, glaring at the road ahead of you while silently cursing Max and his stupid overprotectiveness. 

Max glanced at you as he drove. “I can tell you’re upset with me.”

“I was having fun,” you complained, “and you took me away from it.”

Max sighed. “I’m sorry Schatz, I am, but I wasn’t comfortable letting you stay in a club full of strangers drunk without me.”

You pouted again. “So why didn’t you just stay at the club with me?”

Max laughed a bit. “Because I only enjoy clubs when I’m drunk, and the whole purpose of me being there would be watching you while you’re drunk, not the other way round.”

It made sense even to your drunk brain- sort of -so you dropped the subject, letting Max off the hook. Maybe you’d argue with him in the morning when you were sober and had a better grasp on reality, but as Max parked in your driveway and helped you out of the car, all you wanted to do was curl up with your boyfriend and go to sleep, which is exactly what you did.

Max helped you undress and got as much makeup off your face as he was able to with his limited skill set and then got you into bed, laying down beside you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest where you sighed into it, content.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair.

Even drunk and half asleep, you still managed to reply, “I love you too.

[lewisvinga]

my mistake | lando norris x fem! reader

summary; lando had been chasing after oscar’s friend, y/n for a couple months now. he’s confused on why she keeps dismissing him until he finally got his answer

fc; nailea devora

warnings; cursing

taglist; @namgification

note; requested !

masterlist !

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others

yourusername: thank u mclaren n oscar for having me 🧡

tagged; oscarpiastri, mclaren

mclaren: always a joy to have you😎🧡

username: pretty girls stan y/n

oscarpiastri: ur annoying

yourusername: god forbid a girl ask for food

oscarpiastri: i kept getting weird stares bc you made me get you 4 plates of food.

yourusername: THE CHICKEN PASTA WAS GOOD🙎‍♀️🙎‍♀️🙎‍♀️🙎‍♀️

username: her friendship w oscar is everything

username: PAPAYAAA

landonorris: you’re forgetting someone 🤔

yourusername: no i don’t think so

landonorris: a handsome brit? 😁

yourusername: oh! lewis😁

landonorris: i meant me…

yourusername: ok !

username: lando😭

Y/N L/N ANSWERS YOUR FAN QUESTIONS!

lando👍

y/n

y/n

y/n🌷

what now lando

lando👍

what happened to u and why’d u distance yourself from f1😁

y/n🌷

none of ur business

lando👍

pleaseeee

aren’t we bffs😁😁😁

y/n🌷

no we are not

you just got my number from osc

lando 👍

well i’m not leaving you alone until you tell me

y/n

y/nnnnnn

answer

answer

answer

pleaseeeeeee🙏

y/n🌷

you really don’t remember?

lando👍

no?

y/n🌷

2019

i was starting to gain a following but nothing like what i have now

and i went to a race and i was so excited to be there and then i saw you

of course i was happy to see you but then when i smiled, you just rolled your eyes at me and looked really annoyed at me

and that hurt , lando

lando👍

shit

y/n i honestly don’t remember

but fuck i’m sorry

y/n🌷

whatever im over it

just sucks when someone you’re a fan of acts annoyed by u xx

but then i met osc and now he’s my friend so now i’m back into this f1 shit

lando👍

y/n seriously i’m so sorry

it was my mistake, i must’ve thought you were someone else

let me make it up to you

y/n🌷

it’s fine lando

past is past but just wanted you to know

lando👍

no i wanna make it up

y/n🌷

i said it’s fine

lando👍

nope!

not until i can make u laugh

at least let me take you out for lunch

y/n🌷

hmmmmm

fine

but i’m gonna order a feast

lando👍

fine by me😁

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and others

yourusername: how does 1 live knowing that u invited someone out for food only to steal their fries ….. #landonorrisisover

tagged; landonorris

landonorris: u got full after 3 bites of your burger

yourusername: wrong it was 4! and it was a very big n filling burger!!

landonorris: omg u finally posted me 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

yourusername: don’t make me delete this post, lando norris 😒

username: i just know lando is giggling knowing he finally made it to a y/n post

username: did months of lando norizz flirting in her comments actually pay off??

oscarpiastri: wow.

yourusername: omw w fries for u don’t worry pooks

landonorris: worry if i eat them all

oscarpiastri: shut up lando norizz

lilyzneimer: miss u sm🥹🥹

yourusername: i miss u more💔 lmk when ur going to a race 😞

username: y/n gorgeous omg

username: wait who is that???

username: f1 driver and teammates w y/n friend oscar!

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and others

lando.jpg: the gf chronicles

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: fuck u and those stupid burgers and ur stupid jokes and ur stupid cute smile and the latte u bought me

lando.jpg: don’t worry guys she just hasn’t had her afternoon nap yet

yourusername: i’m so tired 😞😞

yourusername: bf🔥

lando.jpg: gf🔥

username: oh hello

username: wHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?

username: she’s scute i love her sm

username: idk who i want more him or her

carlossainz55: about time ! i didn’t know how many more calls of you talking about y/n i could handle!😂😂

yourusername: awh he talks abt me??

lando.jpg: not you exposing me, carlos 😒

oscarpiastri: fuck you you left me with half of my fries that time

lando.jpg: they were good sorry not sorry

yourusername: bro he’s such a fries stealer, i can’t ever eat my fries in peace

lando.jpg: tomato tomato

[gingersxng]

Sex Addiction

Pairing: f!reader x San

Summary: your boyfriend can’t keep his hands to himself and isn’t sorry about the consequences which follows

Genre: Smut 18+

Notes: sub!reader, rough dom!San, San has a sex addiction, San is really horny, public touching, nipple sucking, pussy eating, fingering, spanking, bruising, unprotected sex (always keep safe), cum eating, cream pie, many rounds, overstimulation

Words: 814

you were invited to a family dinner with your parents at a fancy restaurant earlier this evening but halfway through your boyfriend decided it would be appropriate to start playing with you under the table. caressing his hand on your squishy thighs and then further up your short skirt while holding a conversation with your mom. you felt your heart race and your body froze cause you were so scared someone would notice. you squeezed your thighs together locking his hand in between them to give him a warning. a deep chuckle escaped his lips. he pinched your thigh making you jolt up with a “ouch”. you threw a deadly glare at him and he honestly couldn’t care less cause all you got in return was a dirty smirk. “everything alright honey” your mom asked with a worried look on her face. “she’s been having bad cramps lately, I think I should take her home so she can get some rest” San replied squeezing your thigh.

and that’s how you ended up on your bed with your boyfriend sucking on your nipples and a hand inside your panties. “y-you really can’t restrain yourself c-can you” you moaned out trying to sound angry. San let go of your nipple and gave you a smirk sliding in two fingers inside your hole. “oh how well you know me..” he chuckled pumping his fingers faster. his actions made your back arch and eyes shut tight. this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened when you and San were out together, his sex drive was almost too much but you wouldn’t have it any other way seriously.

he pulled down your panties and rubbed your clit a few times before he dove right in. tongue gliding up and down your folds tasting your arousal. you put your hand in his hair pushing him down a bit, he groaned against your clit sending electric waves to your stomach. your moans were like angels singing in Sans ears and he could feel his cock twitch in his pants. your orgasm hit you like a train and you came all over his tongue, your body felt so heavy. San didn’t waste any time, he licked you clean and hurried to undo his pants letting his leaking aching friend out. “you don’t know how hard it is to keep my cock inside my pants when we’re out darling” his voice were deep and serious making your whole body shiver. he took his cock guiding it to your aching hole, being too excited like he used to get he didn’t give you a chance to adjust to him and you let out a whimper from the burn. he rutted into you like his life depended on it, your hands grabbing around him scratching his back. his eyes were pitch black and his bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead, San wasn’t that vocal instead he was growling and it always made your pussy clench around his cock sucking him all in. “fuck, I’m gonna cum if you keep clenching like that” “then cu- cum mmh inside me” you moaned out. he almost came just hearing you say that. he pulled out grabbing you by the waist flipping you over on your stomach. “on all fours now” he growled. with shaky legs you obeyed him.

he hit your ass cheeks very hard a few times which would leave handprints before taking hold on your hips squeezing hard while he pushed himself inside again. you felt tears rolling down your cheeks from the mixed feeling of pleasure and pain, San always used to go very rough on you when you had sex which meant you almost never had romantic and slow sex. “my beautiful sexy girl gonna get filled up good with my cum” he groaned throwing his head back. you felt your stomach twist and your mouth fell open when he put one hand on your clit and the other squeezing your ass hard while thrusting in and out. “pls S-Saaaannn!” you screamed, your legs almost gave out under you. “cum for me baby” he spanked you one more time with force and you came while letting out a loud broken moan. San pressed his hips into you and you could feel his cock twitch inside you, a big load of cum spurting into you. San pulled out watching as the cum was dripping out from your stretched hole all over your thighs, just the sight made him hard again. before you had time to rest you felt him pushing his cock in again.

“San you’re kidding…” you threw your head back to look at him. he gave you a sly smile letting out a little laugh. “when you have an addiction it’s damn hard to stop” he said bending over kissing your neck and grabbing your boobs as he started to thrust into you again.

[somethingthing]

Warm Up

Rafe Cameron x pouge!fem!reader

Warnings: none really, just fluff

Word count: 630

A/N: what is happening?? Two fics in like three days?? I must be sick or something.

No but seriously, I’m so in love with Rafe and I just need some fluff so this is just something short and sweet that took me way too long to get down.

Hope you enjoy!! <33

You were cramped up on a sunbed, it was a tight fit but with Rafe laying half on top of you it was comfortable enough. His head was laying on your chest, using it as a pillow. It was still warm out, the last bit of sun warming up your bodies.

"This is nice" you reached your hand out to get the drink on the small table next to you, taking a sip "Want some?" you held the glass at his level.

"Thanks, but that means i need to move" he squeezed his arms tighter around you "And I´m way too comfortable" he finished.

"Suit yourself" you downed the last bit, leaving only the ice in the glass.

"I´m sorry about what went down on the beach" he mumbled. Your hand that had been stroking his back stopped for a moment "I know I should’ve said something"

You shifted a bit, making him look up at you "I know you are honey" you had been mad at him, but you understood why he hadn´t said anything. With all the whispering behind his back about his dad and family he was scared, scared that if he wasn´t all in with the rest of the kooks they´d turn against him.

"I´m sick of it, the whole kooks and pouge thing" he laid his head down on your chest again "But I did hate them, especially those idiots my sister keeps running around with, but i like you" he nestled his face into your neck "Really like you" you could practically feel him smirking as he placed lazy kissed on your neck.

"Rafe" you giggled out. You sank deeper into the sunbed, placing yourself directly under him. He was hoovering above you, making the sun hit your face.

"You really are something, you know that?" you felt your face heat up. It wasn´t too often he was like this, the rare moments you got, you cherished "Pouge and all" he teased, grinning down at you.

Just like that, the peace you just felt was replaced with mischief "And you are an asshole" you shot back, placing a playful kiss on his nose "You know, if you like me and I´m a pouge, you might like the others too"

He huffed "Pfft if they´re not you, I don´t like them" you scrunched your face in dissaproval "But-" he sighted deeply "but I`ll try and tolerate them" he finished, kissing your lips softly.

"I can live with that" you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. The sun had gone down and the lack of the previous warm rays made you shiver slightly "Is the hot tub running? I´m cold"

"Don´t think so, but it doesn't take long to heat up" he sat up, pulling you with him. Your legs draped over his knees "But in the meanwhile I think I know a few ways to get you warm again" his hand ran up your leg, grinning at you, your cheeks fluster again.

"My saviour" you said dramatically, swinging your legs to the ground you stood up "I´m gonna go and get my bikini while you heat the tub up" standing up as well he wrapped his arms around you from behind.

"Bikini? No no, no need for that" he once again placed lazy kisses along your neck, making you lean your head back against him "I told you, I have a plan to keep you warm" he slowly started to walk towards the hot tub still with his arms around you.

"Mhm, right" you giggled out, turning your head to place a kiss on his jaw. You wished you could stay like this forever, just you and Rafe, away from everyone and everything. You knew that tomorrow would be back to the usual chaos that seemed to curse the island, but for now, you were here. Just here in the moment with Rafe, not worrying about anything.

——————————————

Not sure I like this but it just feels good the write I guess so here we are. And as always feedback is always welcome and thank you for reading!! <33

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 7 ] || [ Chapter 9 ]

Pairing: Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: ghost is making a move.

Chapter 8: Awooga?

Surprisingly, your one-night stand with John last night did wonders for you. You felt energized all day and made it a point to clean everything instead of moping about like you have tended to do since your break-up with Ethan.

There were days when you considered texting him, neck deep in feelings you couldn’t quite move past, trying your best to stay afloat. Four years by his side couldn’t be forgotten in the blink of an eye, even if neither of you wanted anything to do with the other and had each other blocked on every platform imaginable.

It’s 4 P.M. on Saturday and you’re laying about in your living room wearing lounge clothes, your legs spread over your coffee table, eyes lazily locked on the TV as you fiddle with your phone, twirling it in your hand.

Eventually, you find yourself getting bored… So you decide to open Tinder one last time. You got what you wanted out of it. John scratched that itch… There’s no need to keep it. But it’s still funny enough to judge the men on that app even if you’re no longer doing anything with them.

You start Left Swiping on every profile that comes onto your screen, silently judging each one and murmuring to yourself. You get about 15 profiles in before you find yourself bored of even that.

Sighing and getting peckish, you decide to order yourself something good for dinner from a delivery app. Then, while waiting for the notification that your driver is on his way, you return to Tinder.

You open the DM tab, finding dozens of new DMs from guys and skim through them, none of them catching your eye. If you were in the mood, you’d maybe engage in convo with one of them, maybe annoy them a little… But they all seem so… bland.

Then you find Simon’s chat lost in the influx. You click on it for a moment, smiling a bit as you spot his politeness and excess professionalism for someone that’s on a dating app looking to get laid.

Biting your lip, your fingers glide across the keyboard as you shoot him a quick message.

you: so… are you thinking of ever uploading a new pic of yourself?

The Read indicator popped up under your DM almos instantly, and the bubbles indicating Simon was typing soon followed.

Simon: Look who it is. Simon: Hello to you too. Simon: No, I don’t intend to do that. you: hi, sorry. x you: why not? Simon: I don’t take this app seriously enough to want to show off what I look like. you: was that a dig at me for having a whole gallery? Simon: No. Simon: Unless you want it to be. 😉 you: 😱😱 you: SIMON DID YOU JUST USE AN EMOJI? Simon: I regret doing it now. you: NOOOO pls don’t! you: it was fun!!!! Simon: Alright then. Simon: How are you feeling today?

You’re genuinely shocked by his question and you find yourself smiling a bit.

you: i’m okay hru? Simon: Just okay? I’m fine thanks. you: yeah! feeling lazy. Simon: You had me worried you weren’t feeling well after last night.

Your cheeks warm up so quickly that you even sputter and sit up on the couch with a start.

you: you know?? Simon: Of course I know. Simon: John’s my captain.  you: he told you??????? Simon: No. John’s old school. No kiss and tell. Simon: But we were all expecting he’d go home with you. Simon: Kind of an open secret. you: oh Simon: Does that bother you? you: i don’t think so? you: i guess i should’ve expected you would realize it Simon: I’m sorry. Simon: To be fair, I can tell you that you did a great job, he’s in a much better mood. you: that is not the praise you think it is 😭 Simon: I’m not used to giving praise, cut me some slack alright? you: right. i can see that. you: the whole - my team would say i push them - thing Simon: I stand by that. Simon: I’m not very good at talking. Simon: But I’m not a liar. you: i’ve noticed you: you tend to hate being called that. Simon: Lie enough on the job. Simon: When I’m talking to people outside of that, I like being as honest as I can be. you: i see you: sooo does that mean i can ask you things and you’ll be honest in the answers? Simon: About? you: you Simon: Within reason. you: what do you look like Simon: 6ft4, blonde, brown eyes. you: that’s it? Simon: I said ‘Within reason’. That means I won’t give you more than I think I should. you: infuriating 😤 Simon: That’s life.

Just as you’re about to answer, your doorbell rings. You were so absorbed in Simon’s chat that you didn’t notice your delivery driver arrived.

You slip on some shoes quickly and dash downstairs to the front door of the building to receive your food.

Once upstairs, you set your food on the table and unwrap everything, beginning to eat your Nando’s chicken as you try to resume texting Simon one-handed.

That’s when you spot the message he sent you while you were busy.

Simon: Added some new pics. Simon: Don’t say I never did anything for you. Simon: But I’ll take them down in 2 minutes so you better hurry up.

Eyebrows raised, you quickly click on his profile and rush to tap through to the new pictures.

The first one makes you chuckle. Of course, it’s him wearing a hoodie and a stupid mask… But the second one? Your jaw drops open and you find yourself swallowing dryly.

“Awooga…” You quip to yourself and giggle, amused at your own silliness as your eyes trail over every inch of exposed skin in Simon’s chest. Even if that’s not him, even if that’s just some… bloke he found online, it’s still a bloody fine picture.

Returning to the chat, you type a quick reply.

you: not bad Simon: Answered your questions? you: raised a couple more. Simon: Good. Simon: You keep them in your mind for later. you: why does it feel like you’re leaving?? Simon: Because I am. Duty calls. Simon: I’ll tell John you said 'Hi'. you: okay... you: be careful!

As soon as you sent that message you found yourself facepalming. Why do you sound like a concerned partner? You don’t even know this man. Any of them really. Even if you had one of them inside of you less than 24 hours ago.

You don't dwell too much on it because soon there's a message from Simon on the screen.

Simon: Always am. Don’t miss us too much.

Shaking your head, you set down your phone, locking the screen, and turning back to your peri-peri chicken and chips, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.

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

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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur , @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear

[vettelshon3ybadg3r]

he doesn’t - dr3 ❤️‍🩹

“…I know you don’t need my comfort but I’d like to think I can carry some of it for you…if you want of course…” Is this how first dates usually end up? Who the fuck have I been going on dates with? Where did he spawn from?”

word count - 4.3k

summary - reader with unspecified chronic illness, general health anxiety, gentleman! Daniel, mentions of being uncomfortable around alcohol, food, prescription medication. suggestive of slight sexual tension and difficult health related conversations. fluffyyyyy.

"Girl I don't think I can do it..." you repeat on the now three hour FaceTime call to your best friend for what seems like the millionth time this evening.

"You can. And you will! You deserve this, more than anyone" she also repeats for probably also the millionth time.

You sigh and continue curling your hair.

It's your first date since your diagnosis 9 months ago, after two years of battling with debilitating symptoms, gaslighting doctors and pain medication that doesn't even scratch the surface. Not forgetting the tears, the tears cried and the hope lost that you'll ever be okay again.

You don't feel that you will ever be okay, but your friends can't stand to see you wallow in bed and accept your life passing by, and long story short that's how you matched with Daniel on some dating app they downloaded on your phone.

"Okay, my Ubers here" you shakily tell your friend through the phone, sat on your vanity. You smooth your long-sleeved black mini dress, pull at your knee high boots and adjust your bag on your shoulder.

"Do I look okay?" You ask, looking down the camera, stepping back and giving a spin.

"Breathtaking. Go get him girl" she smiles.

"I'll keep you updated" you pick up your phone, checking your lipliner in the camera.

"You have everything you need?" she checks. You know what she's referring to.

"Yep, meds...and backups..." you nod.

"Condoms?..." she smirks.

"Okay let's not get too ahead of ourselves" you laugh. you never even anticipated that being an option for tonight.

"Go on...go have some fun, you deserve it."

You hang up and take a deep breath, taking the lift from your apartment downstairs to your uber.

"Uber for y/n?"

The driver nods, you get in and take some deep breaths, taking a moment for yourself with the anxiety bubbling and the potential placebo of your body giving out on you at any point from now on.

The scenarios that play out in your head through the short drive are relentless, from him standing you up to something going seriously wrong within the blink of an eye during dinner and having to explain to Daniel...well...everything, and blowing your chance at something good happening to you for once.

It's those scenarios that scarily pass the time, and before you know it you're outside the restaurant, shakily closing the door to the uber and forgetting how this all works.

Do i go inside? Is he already inside? No i’m ten minutes early so he'll arrive any second...what if he's fifteen minutes early and already sat-

"Y/n?"

I jump and spin on my heel, there he is.

Good lord.

"Daniel hi!" You go on your tiptoes and wrap an arm around Daniel's shoulder, resting your chin on the other. He rubs his large hand over your back and his scent fills your nose, musky but floral.

God he’s tall.

"Shall we?" He gestures to the door, flashing a smile and you respond with a nod. A smile that's enough to make you forget all the scenarios and worries repeating in your head since you got out of bed this morning, well...afternoon.

He pulls your chair out for you, sitting opposite and tucking himself in.

"So! How are you?..."

There's the dreaded question. Lie.

"I'm really good! I've been really looking forward to trying this place out!" You smile and look around the low lit Italian restaurant.

"How have you been? You're home for the holidays?" You return the sentiment, picking up the jug of water to pour a glass for your drying mouth and Daniel doesn't miss the shake in your hand at its heaviness.

"Let me.." he takes the jug from you and pours you a glass, pouring himself one after. You smile as a thank you. You wait for him to question it, he doesn't.

"Yeah, yeah I'm home for Christmas and then back to it in January" he nods, taking a sip of water and kissing his teeth. You can't tell if it's awkward, you feel like he knows you're being standoffish, keeping your guard up or just simply thinks you're being a bit of a bitch.

He doesn't.

She’s breathtaking. I can’t stop looking at her lips, the sparkle of eyeshadow lighting up her eyes and how effortlessly her hair falls on her shoulders. She’s enchanting.

You also take a sip from your glass, it's like you've forgotten how to act and just copy him except you put your glass down and hold onto it, the coldness soothing your clammy palms.

"So what is it you do again...you're a racing driver?" You tilt your head, leaning forward on the table. His eyes crinkle into a smile as a chuckle escapes his lips and he nods.

God he's beautiful.

"Mhm, formula one...never heard of it?" His lip curls into a smile and you blush.

"By the sounds of it I should have..."

"No no not at all..." he shakes his head and leans back in his chair, resting his forearms on the table and tapping his fingers.

"It's not like it's the highest level you can get in motorsport or anything..." he shrugs, putting on an act of mock nonchalance and scratching the back of his neck.

You laugh, you actually laugh.

"Oh right! I'm sorry Mr. Bigshot! I suppose I better ask for your signature or something huh?" I tease.

He shakes his head, clasping his hands together under his chin and resting his elbows on the table.

"How about my phone number?"

Your heart flutters. Wow he's forward...wow.

You feel the heat creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks and look into my lap as a small laugh escapes your lips.

"Maybe..." you smile softly, before his eyes on yours grow that smile into one you haven't felt in a long time, an actual smile.

The waiter arrives, requesting our drinks order and placing the menus down in front of us. You gesture for Daniel to go first.

"Yep Uhm..." he glances at the drinks menu, before looking up at you.

"What you feeling?..."

Your heart skips and your hands go clammy.

"Oh go with whatever..." I nod and smile, he returns the expression.

"Do you have the uh...Chianti Classico? Red?...a bottle for the table please and a lasagna for me" Daniel glances up at the waiter, your eyes on his hands spread across the menu, holding it so effortlessly and his fingers dancing lightly over the print.

The waiter nods and takes note, looking at you.

"Oh could I uh...just grab a Coke Zero?" You say in a small voice, Daniel looks up at you.

"Would you like a different wine? Do you prefer white?" He opens the menu back up, worried he hadn't considered your taste.

You shake your head, not wanting to create something.

"No no! I'm okay...honestly..." I smile and nod, Daniel leans forward slightly.

"I don't mind driving you back? Or ordering you an uber or?..."

he doesn't get it, you can't expect him to...it begins.

Your throat feels tight and you wipe your palms on your dress, licking your drying lips and looking back at the waiter.

"I'll have a glass for the wine, and I'll just stick with the water on the side, oh and Uhm...the spaghetti bolognese please" I smile and nod, handing him the menu as he expressed he'll be back with our order.

As long as you drink it slowly...steady and slowly it'll be okay...it'll be okay...

Daniel looks at you, expectantly, but unsure of what exactly. You wait for him to pry, he doesn't.

"So what do you do?..." Daniel asks as the waiter returns with the wine, pouring into your glass and you stop him after just a a few glugs. Daniel accepts an actual glass of wine.

"I work in digital marketing and advertising" you leave out the details of it being remote, and part-time.

The conversation flows, the laughter bellows, your knees knock under the table and you feel fine...great actually. You try not to think about the three sips of wine you've drunk, and whether you'll have to skip your medication tonight and it comes easy because Daniel's presence doesn't leave you space to think of those things, not with that smile and almost honk of a laugh he has.

The food arrives, he's dramatic, eccentric, authentic.

"Oh wow you have to try" Daniel's eyes widen as he holds out his fork to you, with some of his meal on to try.

I glance at him, almost checking it's okay but the sparkle in his eyes with excitement to share this experience with me tells me everything I need to know. I giggle and shake my head, before scraping off the small bite from the fork with my teeth, closing my lips around the fork.

My eyes shut then widen.

"Wow..." I nod slowly, looking at my own plate.

"You definitely got the best dish...wait you’re…sorry you’re not sick or anything are you?” You hesitantly check.

He shakes his head.

“Fit and healthy…you won’t catch anything from me today…” he smiles.

That must be nice.

He gestures with his hand to give him some of your food to try, as if to test your claim.

You chuckle and shake your head. He's so easy to be around.

You gather some of your dish on your fork, holding your hand under it and moving it across the table to him, watching his lips close around it and his hand come up over his mouth.

"No way yours is so much better!" He exclaims with a laugh.

"Swap?" You offer, going to lift your plate. Daniel shakes his head.

"I can't take a beautiful girl to dinner and steal her food..." his laugh booms, it fills your chest and your ears and the blood rushes to your head and your toes and your fingertips.

"Share?" I suggest, tilting my head.

The two of you end up sharing both meals, laughing...obnoxiously, sharing stories, fingers brushing one another's on the table and by the end of the meal both leant in to the middle of the table. Like you can't breathe each other in enough. He's tantalising. He's too good to be true.

The waiter collects your plates, offering the dessert menu. You check the time on your phone.

21:30pm.

"Uhm...hmm I..."

"We'll have a glance..." Daniel smiles and nods, you appreciate him taking the pressure off as the waiter scurries away.

"No room for dessert?" Daniel pours some more wine into a glass, gesturing to yours to ask if you want some, you hold up your thumb and index finger with a small gap to suggest a little, he pours a little.

"It's just late...and...yeah I guess...yeah I'm not really a dessert girl-" you stumble and blush.

Fuck now you really look like you're trying to escape.

"Wait I...I'm sorry...I..." Daniel tilts his head at your apology.

"I have ice cream at mine? If you wanted to finish up here and maybe?..." you offered.

You didn't want Daniel to think you were trying to get out of the rest of dinner, because this was truly the best night you'd had in...well probably over a year, and typically by this time in the evening you'd taken your medication and were in bed, certainly not out on a date.

"That sounds perfect...if you're comfortable of course..." Daniel nods, you nod and smile.

"Of course."

Daniel pays the bill and you leave the restaurant, your arm linked in his and you uber back to your apartment, the second you unlock the door you remember the state you left the place in.

The blankets on the sofa, the hospital letters and documents strewn across the kitchen with prescription boxes you had been sorting.

"Oh god okay don't look!" You exclaim, going up behind Daniel to try cover his eyes with your hands.

"Okay nope too tall..." you mutter to yourself, he throws his head back and laughs, spinning around with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"It's fine..." he smiles.

"Okay..." you sigh,

"You come in here..." you drag Daniel into the living room, quickly tidying the blankets and fluffing the pillows.

"And don't move...I'll be two seconds!"

He laughs, spreading his legs and leaning back on the couch, his large hand on his thighs. You clear your throat before remembering he can see you staring, stepping off to the kitchen and trying to turn it into something that looks somewhat presentable. You grab two spoons and the three ice cream tubs from the freezer alongside the Nutella bringing them back into the living room and setting them down on the coffee table, finding Daniel observing the photos on your cabinets, tracing his slender fingers alongside your trinkets and general miscellaneous keepsakes.

"Can I get you a drink?" You blurt out, standing awkwardly. Daniel turns with that crinkly eyed smile, shaking his head.

"I'm good for now...thanks" he sits back on the couch and you join him.

"Nutella and ice cream?" He quizzes, leaning forward to grab a spoon.

"Yeah...it's kinda my comfort food..." I chuckle, unzipping my boots.

"No I love that...I like controlling the ratio..." he nods, looking over his shoulder  at you with a curl in his lip and glint in his eye.

Okay that look was definitely a moment.

He notices you struggling with your boots.

“Want me to?” He nods to your boots, holding out his hands for your foot.

You nod and lift your foot, he takes it in his hand effortlessly and the weight lifted is heavenly.

“Mmm..” you involuntarily groan, your cheeks reddening.

Daniel turns to look at you with a smirk, his large hands still resting on your calf and knee.

“Long day on your feet?”

“Could say that..” you smile, as his fingertips move to the zip on your inner thigh and your breath hitches at the contact. He moves the zip down slowly, tenderly, you can’t take your eyes off his gaze on your leg, his attentiveness making your stomach flutter. He places the boot on the floor and gestures to your other leg, which you lift and sigh at the relief, he lets out a small chuckle.

Daniel rests his hands on your legs, as if to not let you put them back on the floor but not consciously, like he wants you to rest on him.

The two of you share ice cream, more stories, more laughter. Daniel’s fingertips trace up your legs, not teasingly, gently. Rubbing the skin softly relieving tension you didn’t know you had.

“Can I just have a second?”

Daniel nods, you get up and head to the kitchen, popping out your medication for the evening and pouring a glass of water.

As you put the tablets on your tongue Daniel walks in with the tubs of ice cream, all in one hand…god his hands were huge.

“Oh…sorry I…”

I shake my head and swallow the tablets, turning around.

“No no…sorry…I just…”

“I just uh…the ice cream was melting and uh…yeah”

I nod and take them from him, bending and putting them in the freezer, Daniel glances across the counter to your container of medication.

I turn back and smile.

“Shall we go back through?”

The two of you head back to the living room, you’re keen to forget the awkward encounter, you know he wants to ask, but the answer will make him wish he never questioned it at all.

You sit back down next to Daniel, your legs curled up and your hand rubs your feet, those boots really did a number on you.

He notices, gesturing with his hand to take your feet.

“Want me to?”

You blush.

“Give me a foot massage?” You ask jokingly. He nods, seriously.

“If you want…those boots didn’t look the comfiest…beautiful…but not exactly comfy” he chuckles. You drape your legs over his lap.

“You think they’re beautiful…” you snicker.

“You’re…beautiful I mean…” he looks over at you.

God he’s smooth.

You smile and shake your head, watching as his nimble hands relieve the tension from your feet.

“Mmm…” you nod, closing your eyes.

“Good?” You can hear the smile on his lips.

“Oh yeah…”

It’s quiet for a while, comfortable. you didn’t think on your first date in 9 months you’d be being given a foot massage on your couch at a measly 10pm…but here you are…and you didn’t expect to feel so…normal about it.

“So uhm…” he begins.

Oh no.

“What was Uhm…” Daniel gestures with his thumb to the kitchen.

“I mean…like are you feeling okay?” He continues.

Great…and you spoke too soon because it’s about to go all wrong.

I shake my head, as if to brush it off.

“It’s nothing…just some meds I have to take every now and again…”

“Are you sure…I mean I completely understand if you don’t wanna talk about it…but I…look I really like you, and I wanna get to know you”

You take the jump and open up. About your symptoms, your diagnosis and your daily life. Explaining how tonight was quite a big night for your journey with your health, as it’s the biggest thing you’ve done for yourself in a while. How you didn’t want to tell him at the table about your situation with alcohol and medication and the complications of mixing the two.

“Fuck I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to…pressure you or anything”

You shake your head, putting your hand on his arm which was still tracing on your leg.

“No…no please don’t be sorry…you can’t have known it’s okay…”

You continue with your story a little, leaving out the not so glamorous parts of the 2am breakdowns because nothing is cutting the pain, or the calling your best friend because you can’t get to the bathroom by yourself.

He listens intently, his eyes never leaving your lips as you ramble on, and his hands continuing their soft tracing of touches on your legs.

You take a breath, satisfied with how much you’ve shared, until it feels like too much.

“I’m sorry…I-“

“No” he cuts you off.

“I mean…don’t be sorry…thank-you…” he continues.

“Thank-you?” You chuckle.

He nods, scoffing slightly.

“Yeah…I mean that shits…that shits heavy…you didn’t have to trust me with all that…yet you did. All of that and you’re still accommodating to letting people in…it’s…yeah you’re impressive” he nods.

“I wouldn’t say impressive…”

“It is…maybe it’s my own ignorance or…I dunno…but if you hadn’t mentioned anything I wouldn’t have suspected a thing. I mean you go to hell and back daily…yet you still, show up, and smile…and laugh…” Daniel drapes a hand over the back of the couch.

“I’m sure you’ve been told before, and it might not mean much anymore when it seems like you’re fighting a losing battle…but you’re strong…like fuck…I couldn’t…” he shakes his head.

“Well unfortunately this shit just creeps up on you…whether you can or not…you don’t get a say…”

He nods.

“You’re right…sorry I…”

“No no…you don’t need to…comfort me…I’m not trying to be standoffish…it’s just…”

“No I get it…I mean no sorry I don’t get it…I understand the principle of what you’re suggesting…nothing I can say will make it better you’ll still wake up tomorrow and do it all again…”

Okay pinch me…he gets it?

I lean my head on his arm that’s draped behind me on the couch. Smiling at him. He smiles back.

“Your profile doesn’t do you justice you know that?”

He chuckles.

“No?” He raises an eyebrow. You shake your head.

“You’re gorgeous…” you almost whisper. He scoffs and looks into his lap. He looks back at you, his hand lifting and his fingertips tousling with the hair at the back of your head.

“C’mere” you whisper, gesturing for him to come closer. His hand moves up your leg, moving it to the side as he moves between your legs. Your hand finds the back of his head and you pull his face to yours as your lips meet, pulling him down onto the couch with you. His hand holds himself up by your head, as the other continues to move up your hip and waist, really holding you, his thumb rubbing over every curve and bone.

The kisses become breathless and heavy, your fingers tightening in his curls as your other hand grips his jaw, your noses knocking and his forehead on yours as he pulls away for air.

“All that medical talk like foreplay for you ey?” He breathlessly chuckles. You giggle, before dreading the next expected development.

“Daniel I…”

“Not tonight…I know…” he nods warmly.

“I’m sorry I…I just-”

“Shh shh shh…” he squeezes your hip, looking down at your plump lips and tucking some strand of hair behind your ear. you stare at his warm doe eyes and pink cheeks.

“Just this…this is okay…you’re more than enough like this…”

You nod.

God he makes it impossible not to take him right here.

“Is that okay?…can I?…” he looks back down at your lips, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger, you nod.

You and Daniel spend some time like this, your lips on each others like teenagers, not testing the waters for something more but instead completely satisfied with it being just this for tonight.

It comes to Daniel leaving, he’s at your front door, flushed cheeked and bearing a shit eating grin.

You lean against the doorframe as he stands in the hallway.

“I had a really…really good time tonight…I really needed it…” I smiled.

Daniel stood with his hands in his pockets, nodding.

“Me too…I really like you…i…yeah so if you wanna uh…maybe do something again another time?”

“I’d love to…really…” you nod.

“You’re choosing this time…theme park or movie night here…time and place I’ll be there” he smiles.

You nod, with a smile you know looks cheesy and giddy, but you don’t care. You’re happy.

“Can I…get that number then? Or signature…I’m sure I can show it around…” you joke, he laughs, well…bellows, scratching the back of his neck.

“Oh I uh…I wrote my number on the post it in your kitchen earlier…I was worried you wouldn’t wanna see me again so I thought when you didn’t call I could just tell myself you didn’t see the note”

You laugh and step forward, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him into you.

“Believe me I don’t want it to end here…” I look up through my eyelashes at him, his hands finding my waist and gripping tightly.

“Mm” he hums.

I tiptoe up and press a chaste kiss to his lips.

He nods.

“Yeah…yeah don’t let it end here please…”he chuckles after his almost needy admission.

The two of you part ways, and you get ready for bed giddy, thinking of him and his gentle hands on your feet and calves but their harshness and neediness on your hips. The sound of his laugh and the taste of his lips tainted in your memory. The smell of him lingering in your apartment.

You send a quick text to your best friend.

“He’s perfect. Deets tomorrow xoxo”

She responds with a simple, “EEEK! Get it girl!” You laugh.

Sleep claims your body instantly as your head hits the pillow, for once you’re not dreading waking up…for once.

It’s just gone 11am, you’ve been laying in bed for around an hour, just recuperating from last night when your doorbell goes, you’re not expecting a delivery.

You grunt as you push yourself up out of bed, padding barefoot and in an oversized T-shirt to the front door, unlocking and peering through the gap.

“Hello?”

“Morning…”

“Daniel?” I pull the door open further in shock, to reveal a hoodie, shorts and snapback clad Daniel, holding a brown paper bag and some coffees.

“I brought some food…ease you into today after last night? I can leave it with you or?…”

I shake my head.

“What?…I’m…what?” I chuckle out of shock.

“Sorry…I just…I just thought with how much last night must have been for you…I could bring you food so it’s one less thing for you to think about…I know you don’t need my comfort but I’d like to think I can carry some of it for you…if you want of course…”

Is this how first dates usually end up? Who the fuck have I been going on dates with? Where did he spawn from?

You grab the food from him and place it on the counter, grabbing the pocket of his hoodie and dragging him inside, shutting the door behind him.

“Woah I-”

Daniel looks down at you, grinning, as your body’s pressed against his.

“We could always pick up where we left off last night?…or just…have breakfast…” you shrug teasingly.

Daniel kicks off his shoes with a grin, bending down and pulling you over his shoulder.

“This okay?”

You squeal a “yes”, laughter ringing through your apartment as Daniel stands and carries you over his shoulder to your bedroom…actual laughter.

“We definitely have some unfinished business” he grins.