#i miss doing sillies i need to do sillies

[gf2bellamy]

Hi i was wondering if you could write a fic where bau!reader is cheering spencer on at his baseball game?

softball — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: mention of a guy throwing sort of rude remarks at spence ( just like in the scene ) a/n: i rewatched the scene to write this and omg i forgot how silly it is i love them all so bad theyre literally family ( also i miss blake ) i had so much fun writing this i hope you like it !! <3 ( also i literally know nothing about softball so if anything is wrong i'm vv sorry </3 )

The warm afternoon sun bathed the softball field in golden light. You walked beside the bleachers, your sneakers crunching against the gravel path, with JJ at your side. Her son Henry skipped ahead, his tiny hand clutching hers, his excitement obvious as he pointed at the players warming up on the field.

Ahead, Spencer stood by the chain- link fence, deep in conversation with Derek, who was already dressed in his baseball uniform, adjusting his grip on his glove.

Spencer, in contrast, looked hesitant and nervous.

His eyes darted toward the field, where players were tossing balls and stretching, and you could see the uncertainty written all over his face.

“Hey!” JJ called, drawing their attention. 

Spencer turned, his brows furrowing slightly before his expression shifted into surprise. Practically the entire BAU team was gathered behind you—Hotch, Rossi, Garcia, Alex and even little Jack standing beside Henry. 

“What are you all doing here?” Spencer asked, his voice laced with disbelief. His eyes flickered over each of you.

You stepped forward, grinning up at him as you held out a black cap. “Came to support you, of course.” 

He turned it over in his hands, examining it, before slowly placing it on his head. The cap sat awkwardly over his curls at first, but he adjusted it carefully, pulling it down until it fit snugly.

“There,” you said, tilting your head as you studied him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Now you look the part.”

Spencer huffed out a small, amused breath but didn’t argue. 

Ten minutes later, the game was in full swing. Derek was already at bat, sending the ball flying across the field with a powerful hit. The crowd erupted in cheers as he sprinted toward first base.

You clapped from your seat on the bleachers, sharing an excited glance with JJ. 

You watched as he stepped up to the plate, his movements hesitant as he selected a bat from the rack. He gripped it tightly, his knuckles whitening as he took his position. His stance was awkward, his feet too close together, and he shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other.

Just before the pitcher threw the ball, Spencer turned his head, searching for something—someone. 

His eyes found you. 

You gave him an encouraging look, your lips curving into a soft, reassuring smile as you nodded.

Spencer swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tightened his grip on the bat. He squared his shoulders as he turned back toward the pitcher.

The opposing player wound up and threw the ball.

Spencer swung—and missed. 

You bit your lip, fingers curling around the edge of the bleacher.

It was okay. He just needed to get a feel for it. 

The second pitch came. Spencer adjusted his grip, focused his gaze, and swung. 

Missed again. 

The sound of the bat slicing through empty air was met with a few sympathetic murmurs from the crowd.

You exhaled softly through your nose, feeling a twinge of nervousness for him. You could see the frustration creeping into his posture, the way his shoulders tensed and his jaw tightened.

Rossi, stood up from the bleachers as he clapped his hands together. “It’s all right, kid. You got this. Just keep your eye on the ball.” 

Spencer rolled his shoulders before repositioning himself. The third pitch came. He swung—and missed once more. 

A sharp whistle blew, signaling the end of his turn. Spencer sighed, pushing his hair back under the cap as he stepped away from the plate. 

Time passed, and the game continued. The team erupted in cheers when Derek hit a line drive into the outfield, sprinting around the bases with that signature confidence of his.

You clapped along with everyone else, letting out a light laugh when he slid into home base, grinning like he owned the field. 

Your attention drifted back to Spencer. He stood off to the side, a bat in his hand, tossing it lightly into the air as if trying to distract himself.

Except, instead of landing smoothly in his grip, it fumbled and hit the dirt with a dull thud.

You had to bite your cheek to suppress a laugh, not wanting to embarrass him further. He bent down quickly, picking it up like nothing had happened, his cheeks tinged with pink as he went back into position.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. There was something so endearing about Spencer Reid—genius, FBI profiler, and yet utterly out of his element on a softball field.

You stood up from the bleachers, brushing off your jeans as you made your way over to the chain-link fence that separated the stands from the field. Leaning against it, you called out to him, your voice light and teasing.

“Need a hand with that bat, or are you just practicing your juggling skills?”

Spencer’s head snapped up, his eyes widening slightly as he realized you were watching him. He straightened, brushing a stray curl out of his face as he walked closer to the fence, the bat dangling loosely in his hand.

“I, uh, didn’t realize anyone was paying attention,” he admitted, his voice tinged with embarrassment.

“Oh, I’m paying attention,” you said with a grin, resting your arms on the top of the fence. “And I have to say, your juggling could use a little work. Maybe stick to profiling for now.”

He let out a small, self-conscious laugh, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “I’m not exactly cut out for this,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the field. “I mean, I can calculate the trajectory of a ball in my head, but actually hitting it? That’s a whole different story.”

You tilted your head, your smile softening. “Hey, you’re doing better than you think. It’s just a game, Spencer.”

He glanced over at Derek, who was currently showing off with a series of exaggerated practice swings, much to the amusement of the rest of the team. “Yeah, well, Morgan makes it look easy,” Spencer muttered.

“Derek’s had years of practice,” you pointed out. “You’re just starting. Cut yourself some slack.”

Spencer sighed, leaning against the fence on his side so that you were face to face, only the metal links separating you.

Your heart softened. “You don’t have to be good at everything, Spencer. It'’s okay to just have fun.”

He looked at you for a long moment, his brown eyes searching yours as if trying to find some kind of reassurance. Finally, he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Fun, huh? I guess I can try that.”

“That’s the spirit,” you said, reaching through the fence to give his arm a playful nudge. “And hey, if nothing else, you’ve got the best cheering section here. We’re all rooting for you.”

Spencer’s smile widened, and for the first time since the game started, he looked genuinely relaxed. “Thanks,” he said, his voice warm. “That… means a lot.”

Just then, Derek’s voice boomed across the field. “Reid! You’re up again! Stop flirting and get over here!”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, and he quickly straightened, adjusting his cap. “I, uh, should probably go,” he said, glancing back at you.

You laughed, waving him off. “Go on. Show them what you’ve got.”

Smiling you went back to your seat. When he stepped up to bat, he glanced over at you one more time, and you gave him an exaggerated thumbs-up, earning a small chuckle from him.

JJ, Penelope, and Alex all exchanged knowing glances. 

When Spencer turned his back to get into position, you caught them looking and furrowed your brows. “What?” 

JJ smirked, leaning in slightly. “Oh, nothing.” 

“Absolutely nothing at all,” Penelope added, eyes twinkling. 

Alex just shook her head, biting back a small, amused smile. 

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth blooming in your chest was undeniable. 

And when Spencer stepped up to bat once more, he stole one last glance at you before squaring his stance. His eyes lingered for just a moment, and you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

But then, from the opposing team’s dugout, someone called out, “This guy can’t hit.”

You frowned, your expression twisting in annoyance.

That was unnecessary.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one who noticed. 

Derek, standing near home plate, lifted a hand and called for a time-out. He turned on his heel and strode toward Spencer, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he leaned in to say something. 

You let out a small breath of relief. 

Rossi, seated just below you on the bleachers, leaned back slightly and smirked. “Shoot him another one of your good luck smiles. Maybe he won’t miss this time.” 

Your eyes narrowed, heat creeping up your neck. “Funny,” you muttered, crossing your arms in an attempt to keep yourself composed. 

Rossi chuckled, clearly enjoying himself, and the rest of the team exchanged knowing glances. 

Derek finally walked back to his position, and Spencer turned around once more—his eyes searching for you almost instinctively. You met his gaze, and despite the slight nervousness still lingering in his stance, you smiled at him, giving him an encouraging nod. 

“There you go,” Rossi muttered under his breath, and you shot him a glare, though it held no real heat. 

You ignored him, keeping your eyes on Spencer as he adjusted his grip on the bat, exhaled, and squared his stance once more. 

The pitcher wound up. 

The ball came flying toward him. 

Spencer swung. 

And missed. 

You bit your lip, fingers curling slightly as you watched him adjust.

The second pitch came. 

Another miss. 

You swallowed hard. You could tell he was getting in his own head. 

And then, just as the pitcher lined up for the third throw, that same player from earlier muttered loud enough for everyone to hear, “This guy’s got nothing.” 

Your head snapped toward him, irritation bubbling up in your chest. Oh, shut up, you thought, resisting the urge to march over there yourself. You shot the player a glare, but he didn’t seem to notice—or care.

Then, the third pitch came. 

For a split second, time seemed to slow. 

Spencer swung— 

Crack! 

The unmistakable sound of the bat making solid contact echoed across the field. 

The ball shot into the air, soaring far past the infield. 

For a second, Spencer just stood there, wide-eyed, almost as if he couldn’t believe it himself. He blinked at the bat in his hands, then at the ball still sailing through the air, as if trying to process what had just happened.

He didn’t move an inch. 

“Spencer, run!” 

Everyone was shouting now—Derek, Rossi, JJ, Penelope,Alex even Hotch. But it was your voice that seemed to snap him out of it. His head jerked in your direction, and when he saw you standing, hands cupped around your mouth as you cheered, something seemed to click. 

He ran. 

Derek was smacking his hands against his knees. “C’mon, kid, move it!” 

Spencer rounded first, then second. The outfielders were still scrambling to recover, and the team’s cheers only grew louder. 

By the time he made it to third, you could see the determination set on his face. His cap had slipped slightly, his curls bouncing with every stride, and his cheeks were flushed from the effort.

“Go, Spencer!” you yelled, clapping wildly. 

The second the opposing team threw the ball toward home plate, Spencer took one final, desperate sprint— 

And then slid. 

It wasn’t the smoothest slide, and judging by the way he grimaced as he skidded across the dirt, it definitely wasn’t something he had ever practiced before. But when the referee threw his arms out and called, “Safe!” the entire BAU team erupted. 

Derek was the first to reach him, pulling Spencer to his feet and clapping him on the back so hard it nearly knocked the wind out of him. “That’s what I’m talking about, kid!” he shouted, his grin wide and proud.

JJ and Penelope were cheering loudly, their voices carrying across the field, while Rossi let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. Even Hotch, who was usually so stoic, was cheering.

But your eyes were on Spencer. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath, but there was a look of pure triumph on his face.

His cap was crooked, his shirt was covered in dirt, and his hair was a complete mess, but he looked happier than you’d seen him in a long time.

When his eyes found yours, he smiled—a real, genuine smile that lit up his entire face. You grinned back at him, giving him a thumbs-up, and he shook his head, laughing softly as he adjusted his cap.

After a few moments, as the team’s cheers began to subside, Spencer finally managed to wiggle free from Derek’s grip, stepping away from the celebratory pit.

His teammates continued to pat him on the back, offering congratulations and words of encouragement, but Spencer’s attention was already drifting.

His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for you.

When he finally spotted you, his expression softened, and a small, almost shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

You walked up to him, your smile growing wider with every step.

Spencer was still slightly breathless, his chest rising and falling with adrenaline , but all he could focus on was you.

The noise of the cheering team, the occasional slap on his back from his teammates—it all faded into the background the moment your arms wrapped around his neck. 

His fingers instinctively tightened around your waist, his grip warm.

“You did great,” you said, your voice full of excitement, as you pulled back slightly, your smile so wide it felt like it could light up the entire field. 

Spencer’s lips parted slightly, his mind struggling to catch up with what was happening. You were so close.

He could see the way your cheeks were slightly flushed—whether from the excitement of the game or something else, he wasn’t sure. 

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

You nodded, smiling brightly. “Yeah.” 

His heart stuttered at the confirmation, at the way you were looking at him like he had genuinely impressed you.

It wasn’t often that Spencer Reid felt cool, but right now, standing here with you, he kind of did. 

The way you were looking at him, your arms still loosely draped around his neck, made him feel like he’d just accomplished something extraordinary—even if it was just a lucky hit in a casual softball game.

“See, pretty boy? Told you you had it in you,” Derek called, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked past, effectively snapping Spencer out of his daze. 

You giggled, finally stepping back, though Spencer hesitated before letting you go.

Garcia practically skipped over, phone in hand. “Oh, don’t mind me, just capturing all these adorable moments,” she teased, wiggling her fingers at her screen. 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the warmth creeping up your neck. “Garcia…” 

“What? This is gold,” she argued, waving her phone. “The genius hits a home run, and his biggest fan is the first one to congratulate him? I live for this.” 

Spencer, still trying to recover from all of this, rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks burning.

You reached up, gently adjusting his cap.

Your fingers brushed against his forehead, and for a moment, Spencer froze, his breath catching as he looked down at you.

“There,” you said softly, smoothing the brim of the cap. “Now you look like a proper MVP.”

Spencer’s lips parted, but no words came out. He just stared at you, his mind racing as he tried to process the way your touch made him feel.

Rossi, who had been watching from the bleachers with an amused smirk, leaned toward Hotch and muttered, “I give it two months.”

Hotch merely sighed, shaking his head. “They’ll be the last to realize it.”

[munsonsmixtapes]

I Never Got to Say Goodbye

ex boyfriend!eddie x reader

You see Eddie over a year after your break up and you both realize that you never stopped loving each other

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex, hurt/comfort, angst, a guy gets handsy with reader

You sit at your vanity in your room, dreading to get ready. You don’t even want to go out, but you feel like you have no choice. Your friends are trying to get you to meet someone new but how can you when you’re still not over your ex? 

You’re not even sure why you broke up anymore and you’re wondering if he feels the same. If he lies awake playing your breakup over and over, wishing that you would have just stayed together. But you suppose it was just a “right person, wrong time” sort of thing, that it was more the situation than anything that led to your relationship ending. 

You put on your makeup and get dressed as you put on the mixtape that one of your roommates had made for you. You’re dancing around as get ready, loving every song that’s been put onto it. She knows you so well, knows exactly what you like. But then you freeze when the familiar guitar riff floats through your ears. 

“I can’t dance,” you tell Eddie as he guides you around your living room. He’s trying and failing to teach you how to dance but he’s just so determined to show you how. 

“Sure you can,” he says, turning up the volume of the stereo before taking your hands in his. He steps forward and you step back as he guides you through the moves, being so gentle with you like always. “Eyes on me, okay?” 

You nod and keep your eyes on his pretty brown ones as he slowly shows you the steps. You’re not even sure how he learned this but you love seeing the fluid steps and wonder how he does it so well. There’s just so much about him that you want to know and you hope you’re together long enough to find out every single thing about him.

A knock at the door pulls you out of your flashback and you’re quick to turn off the music before hurrying to answer it. Janet is on the other side, a bright smile plastered on her face like always. You know she’s waiting on your to finish so you all can leave and you’re actually kind of pissed at her for not at least letting you finish your flashback. 

You’ve been having a lot of those lately. It’s like your brain is trying to torture you with all of the memories because it knows just how much you’ve been missing Eddie. You miss him so much that it actually hurts. It’s to the point where it’s gotten so painful to think about but you don’t want the memories to stop.

You grab your purse and follow Janet and the other girls out the door. Luckily, the club is just down the street so you don’t have to hail a cab to get there. They’re all talking about finding someone to hook up with but of course, all you’re thinking about is your ex and how much he would have hated a place like this.

Being in that close proximity to strangers-drunk strangers at that-was his worst nightmare and the loud music was so overstimulating which you totally understood. It was something that he would always push through for you because of how much you loved it and now you know you’re going to miss having him by your side, whispering silly things into your ear and staring down any man who even looked at you. 

As the four of you get in line, Violet slips some condoms into your purse that you’re sure you’re not even going to need but you let her anyway. It’s easier not to put up a fight, especially when they’re all just trying to help. 

The club is newer and allegedly very hard to get into and as you look up at the name, you notice that it sounds very familiar, something you’ve heard a billion times but you’re sure that it’s not actually what you’re thinking of. 

“Ed’s?” You ask with a laugh. “That’s the name of a bar, Eddie, not a club. And why do you want to own a club anyway? That’s not exactly your scene.” 

“For you,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world before pressing a kiss to your lips. “I want you to have a place you can call your own, where you can make the decisions. You always complain about the music and the prices and now you’d be able to have whatever you want.” 

“You’re doing this for me?” You feel tears welling up in your eyes at the gesture, wondering how you got so lucky to have someone who cares that much about you. That pays that much attention and is willing to drop a bunch of money just so you could be happy. 

“I’d do anything for you, you know that,” he winks and your heart flutters. 

“Ed’s,” you nod, having a newfound love for the name. “I like it.” You lay your head on Eddie’s chest while he runs his fingers through your hair, your favorite lullaby. 

“I thought you might.” 

You’re thrown back into real life to the bouncer outside the club asking for your ID. When did you get to the front of the line? Did you really zone out of that long? 

You shake the thought away and pull your wallet out of your purse, retrieving your ID and handing it to him. Once he sees that you’re of age, he hands it back and you head inside. As you walk through the doors and take in everything, you still think about how familiar everything looks, almost as if you’ve seen it before. But it can’t be what you think it is…can it?

Your friends have separated from you yet again so you head to the bar for a much needed drink. As soon as you sit at the bar, you look around and see just how busy it is. The bartenders are working hard to stay on top of their orders and as much as you really want a drink, you’re willing to wait as long as you need to. 

You pick up the menu and look at the drinks, the deja vu coming over you again as the names all sound familiar. They’re based on metal songs, songs that you’ve heard so many times you could sing them from memory. 

They would all play so loudly in Eddie’s car as you’d drive around town, screaming the lyrics as loud as you could through giggles because you were just so happy to be around each other. 

You haven’t even been able to listen to any of them since the breakup because it just hurts too much. At first, you were only listening to them because of Eddie, but over time, you really grew to appreciate the genre and even started listening to them on your own. 

Eventually, one of the bartenders comes over to take your order and your mouth falls open as you make eye contact with him. You definitely must be hallucinating because he looks so much like Eddie. As you stare at him, taking in his features, his longer hair, his beard, and nose ring, his own eyes widen which causes you to believe that he is in fact real. 

The last you heard, he was in Chicago. What was he doing back in New York? And why hadn’t he told you? Oh, that’s right. He probably doesn’t have your number anymore and considering that you haven’t kept in contact, you don’t really deserve to know what’s going on in his life anymore. 

And that just kills you. You wonder how much about him has changed besides his appearance. He obviously still opened the club even though you aren’t together anymore. And it seems to be doing really well so you can’t help but feel your heart swell with pride. He got everything he ever wanted. And the stab to the chest is that he didn’t even need your help to do it. 

“What can I get for you?” He asks and now you don’t even want a drink. You want him to sit next to you while you tell each other everything that’s happened over the past year. You want to tell him just how much you fucking miss him. 

“Rum and Coke,” you reply and he smiles, loving to see that you’re still ordering the same drink. 

“You got it,” he nods and moves around the bar, fixing the drink. You watch him, staring at his back, wishing you could hug him from behind like you always used to do. He’d just laugh and turn around , wrapping his arms around you and giving you a squeeze. You miss everything about him, but you’re pretty sure you miss his hugs the most. They were always so tight and long, his favorite way to show you just how much he loved you. 

Loved. As in, past tense. You never stopped loving him but you’re not sure if he still loves you. Considering how he’s been treating you like every other customer, you don’t think he does. You almost want to just get up and leave but he sets your drink on the bar in front of you. 

“One rum and coke,” he says, wiping his hands off on a towel and you can’t even look him in the eye. It’s just too painful. 

Eddie can’t fucking believe that you’re here. He hasn’t stopped thinking about you since you broke up, well, more specifically, that day and how much he regrets the whole thing. It still plays in his head on a loop, torturing him. What he would give to go back in time and beg you to stay.

“So what are you saying?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Surely you’re not suggesting what he thinks you are. No way are you breaking up with him. You just can’t be. You’ve been through far too much to just give up on each other.

“I’m saying that what’s the point of even being together if we can’t be together? We’re both always busy and we see each other once every few weeks. That’s not a relationship Eddie.” He knows your right, but he’s sure that you just need to push through and you’ll get through it just like the two of you have every time you’ve had something you needed to work through.

“So you want to break up?” He almost looks like he’s going to cry and you just can’t bear to look at him if he does. You don’t need this to be any harder than it already is.

“I didn’t say that…but I don’t see any other choice.” You’re both crying now and the whole thing is just pitiful, the two of you looking at each other with tears streaming down your faces, having a conversation you never thought you would. 

“No. No, we can make this work.” He’s taking your hands in his and as much as you love that he’s fighting for you, you know you just can’t keep going like this.

“How?” You ask and he reaches up and wipes your tears, resting his hands on your cheeks. This is one thing he just can’t fix and that breaks you.

“I don’t know. I guess maybe it’s for the best,” he shrugs, finally seeing it from your perspective. He feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest and he’s not entirely sure what he should do about it. You’re always there to fix things for him and the one time he really needs you, you’re not going to be there.

“I guess so,” you sniff, the two of you now breaking into sobs, knowing that things between the two of you will never be the same. 

You moved your stuff out of his apartment that week and you both cried the whole time, the pain all consuming as he helped you pack up your stuff, being his sweet self which just added salt to the wound. You broke up with him and he still helped you move your stuff, being nothing but a gentleman about the whole thing. 

He didn’t even beg you to stay or anything like you thought he would. He just silently helped you pack stuff into boxes then put it all in the truck you rented. All he did was cry, not even uttering a single word to you as he did so. 

He hasn’t seen you since that day and he has no idea how you got even more beautiful since then. You’re wearing a pretty silver dress and the biggest standout is that you’ve cut your hair. The short style looks good on you, but Eddie thinks that everything looks good on you. 

He doesn’t know how he ever let you slip through his fingers, who he let you move your stuff out of his apartment, why he even went as far as helping you pack everything up. It was the hardest thing he ever had to do but he felt like it was the right thing for both of you. 

But now that you’re here tonight, he’s wondering if it’s fate giving him a second chance. God, if he’s offered one, he’s going to take it. Just thinking about it, he feels the weight on his chest lifting, like everything finally makes sense again. 

You’re sipping on your drink so elegantly, giggling with a man who’s now occupying the stool to the left of you. You seem to be having a good time and now you’re holding Eddie’s heart in your hand, squeezing it as you continue to giggle with the man and he can feel it, his chest aching as he watches you slip through his fingers once again. 

But as he’s turning his back to help the other customers, he sees the man’s hand sliding up your thigh and something about watching this happen is making his skin crawl. Just thinking about this guy touching you like that makes him want to break every single one of his fingers, especially because of how uncomfortable you look. 

You’re trying to scoot away but don’t have the strength, the guy grabbing hold of your arm and holding you there so you’re unable to move. Even from your profile, he can see the fear in your eyes as you try to push him off. 

 Eddie’s had enough of this and rounds the bar, grabbing hold of the guy and pulling him off the stool. As soon as he looks the guy in the eyes, seeing that he’s not even phased tells Eddie that he does this a lot and that doesn’t sit right with him. He’s seen red now as he holds the guy by his shirt and he knows he really shouldn’t but before he can stop himself, he raises his fist and punches him square in the face before letting security take care of him. 

He shakes his fist afterwards because of the tingly feeling just as you’re throwing yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as you bury your face into it. He doesn’t exactly know what’s going on, pretty sure that you’re trying to thank him, but he doesn’t need it. He did it because it was the right thing and honestly would have done it for anyone. 

You pull away and Eddie feels every part of him ache when he sees that you’re crying. He notices your face change, your eyes widen as you slip your arms from him, almost as if you think that you’ve made a mistake.  

“I’m sorry,” you tell him as you step away, quickly adjusting your dress before wiping your tears from your cheeks. There was a time where that was Eddie’s job but being chronically single since the breakup, you’ve learned to do it for yourself again 

“For what?” He asks, tilting his head to the side as he slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans to prevent from reaching out for you. 

“For hugging you,” you reply as if it’s obvious, but clearly it’s not since he’s still looking at you like a confused puppy. Has he always been this adorable? 

“Baby-” he cuts himself off, the nickname coming so naturally like it hasn't been months since he’s called you that. “You can hug me anytime you want. Especially after that.” 

“Sorry,” you shake your head. “This is just weird for me, I guess. I-I wasn’t expecting to see you here and I guess old feelings are just flooding back.” You’re chuckling awkwardly like you shouldn’t be saying it, but it’s honestly music to Eddie's ears.

Eddie’s brain short circuits as you finish speaking. Old feelings? So you don’t still love him. You don’t feel the same way as he does and that absolutely kills him. This whole thing has just become torture but he can’t get himself to walk away because he’s still wrapped around your goddamn finger. Some things just never change. 

“Well, I um-” you cut yourself off, now feeling flustered. “I should get back to my friends,” you jerk your thumb over your shoulder and Eddie couldn’t be more disappointed. He really wishes he had more time with you, realizing just how much he missed you now that you’re leaving again. If he doesn’t say something now, he’s going to be kicking himself for the rest of his life. 

“Wait,” he calls after you and you turn around, clearly caught off guard by him still having something to say. “I get off in about an hour. Do you want to…go somewhere?” 

“Eddie…” You look hesitant, almost caught off guard and now he’s trying to think of how he can backtrack since he’s clearly made you uncomfortable. 

“I just want to talk.” You think about it and Eddie can practically see the gears turning in your head. You want to, you really do, but there’s so much that you want to say that you probably shouldn’t. 

You want to tell him how much you miss him, how you miss being wrapped up in his arms, the way he’d squeeze you tight before the two of you fell asleep. You miss the humming that he did or the tv constantly playing on low volume in the background because he hates silence. 

You miss his kisses and even though it’s been over a year since your last one, you still vividly remember what his lips felt like. They were almost always chapped and he often tasted like the mint gum he chewed to cover up the tobacco for you. 

“Okay, yeah,” you nod, craving to be in his presence so badly. Being here with him now, all of that anxiety and dread you’ve been carrying around with you is gone, replaced with warmth that’s spreading throughout your body, the calm that always coursed through you when you were around him. For the first time in so long, you finally feel like you’re home. 

-

Eddie’s feeling clammy as he stands outside the club. He’s smoking a cigarette to help ease his anxiety but it’s not working. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous to talk to you. Maybe because there’s so much uncertainty. There’s so much he wants to say and he’s unsure how you’re going to take it all. He wants to tell you just how much he misses you, how much he still loves you. It’s fucking breaking him being apart from you and when you left, he felt like he lost his purpose, his passion for everything gone with you in the moving truck. 

And the thing is, he doesn’t even blame you for leaving because what else were you supposed to do? That’s what happens when people break up. He just wishes he had gotten the chance to say goodbye since you made the decision to leave while he was at work. He got home and all of your stuff was gone, those cute little mugs you had collected over the years gone from the kitchen cabinet, your books that you would read to him every night before bed disappeared from his bookshelf along with everything else that you owned. 

Seeing you tonight made his feelings for you even stronger and now he can’t even fight them off like he usually does. They have to make themselves known, wanting Eddie to not deny them anymore. He guesses he can’t now and he honestly has no idea what he’s going to say to you without looking like a lovesick fool. 

So he just continues to smoke his cigarette until it’s gone, then reaches for his pack to get another one when you exit the club, giggling with your friends before saying goodbye to them and heading over to him. You’ve gotten even more beautiful since he last saw you a couple hours ago and it hurts so bad knowing that he can’t have you. After getting your closure, the two of you will go your separate ways and Eddie will go home to a bottle of tequila and put on the mixtape he made for you while he drinks until he cries himself to sleep. 

He’s pathetic and he knows it. He’s imagining you telling him that you miss him too then sharing a kiss that’s filled with fireworks. He really needs to get a grip and stop wishing for something that will never happen.

“So,” you speak up, standing there awkwardly as you fiddle with the strap of your purse in your hands. “Where are we going?” Eddie completely forgot to come up with a spot and now he’s panicking, saying the first thing that comes to mind. 

“Dina’s,” he says as he takes one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out underneath his boot. Your eyes widen at the name, memories flooding your mind of sitting in your favorite booth, the two of you giggling over pancakes and a milkshake with two straws. 

Eddie suggesting that place is like a stab to the gut, too painful to go there and try to relive the good memories of your failed relationship, but you think that maybe it won’t be too bad. 

“Dina’s, wow, I haven’t been there since-” you cut yourself off, wondering if this is even a good idea, talking things over with your ex, bringing up the past as you both mourn what could have been. You’re just not sure if you should be doing this. Maybe it’s not too late to catch a cab and go home.

“Since our anniversary,” Eddie finishes, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket, seeing that you’re not wearing one, your shoulders bare, your arms wrapping tighter around your body to try and warm yourself up but it’s not working. It’s taking everything in him not to give you the jacket right off his back but he knows you won’t take it, too stubborn like always. 

“Right,” you nod, knowing that this will be nothing like that. It will just be an awkward and painful conversation that you really wished you hadn’t agreed to. You have tried so hard not to think about Eddie, pushing out every single thought you’ve had but there is always going to be little pieces of him sprinkled into your life. Whether you like it or not, there’s always going to be something that reminds you of him, taking you back to that painful place where you left him as you moved out that day. 

Eddie leads you to his van and you can’t help but feel like this is a date. You wish it was, though. Maybe you’ll be able to turn everything around and he’ll be your boyfriend again. Or your friend at the very least. 

He opens the passenger door like he always used to and helps you into the van and it’s just like old times. You look around the van as he rounds the hood and it looks exactly the same, the stickers that have been on the dash since you’ve known him are still there, even the ones you gave him. 

They’re curling up at the edges, the adhesive wearing off, but that only means that he’s loved them so much that they’ve been there a while. You run your fingers over them as Eddie gets into the driver’s seat, watching you from where he’s sitting with a smile that’s filled with admiration. 

He starts up the van and catches you singing along to the next song on the tape he’s got in. It’s the last one you made for him that he plays in a loop because apparently he loves to torture himself. It’s got his name written across it in your handwriting with sloppily drawn hearts all over it. 

He can’t keep that stupid smile off of his face and joins you, both of you laughing through your duet as if no time has passed. Things are so different now but one thing you at least know for sure is that Eddie still loves ABBA. 

You sing the rest of the song, your laughter fading away as another one starts and now it’s just awkward silence. Neither of you know what to say even though you unknowingly still love each other. If only the two of you could get over your anxiety and just say it already. 

But you can’t. You won’t. You already hurt him once and you’re not going to do it again. He’s doing so well and you’re not going to stumble into his life and claim your have feelings for him when he’s definitely over you. 

If only you could see how lovesick Eddie still is. If only you could get back all the cobwebs that have gathered in your past and see the future that’s right in front of you. Eddie is still as head over heels for you as he’s always been. He never stopped loving you even when everything went to shit. He’s tried, god, he’s tried. He’s wanted to forget you, but you’re always still there, stuck in his mind forever. 

He pulls up to the restaurant and you’re thrown back in time again, another flashback that you can’t seem to escape as much as you want to. You remember the tender touches of your hands across the table and the loving stares and now you’re just sitting across from each other like two people on a blind date. 

You hate that you still remember your exact orders even though you haven’t even thought about this place since the last time you sat in this very booth. His hand is resting on the table as he looks at the menus and god, you just want to reach for it, to know if they’re as rough as you remember. You hope he still uses that lotion you always used to buy him. 

He’s sitting there, looking so pretty with his hair tucked behind one ear, moving an unlit cigarette between his fingers that’s always been a nervous habit. You hate that he’s nervous but you completely understand why. This is uncharted territory. You’re completely different people now and this whole thing was completely unplanned. 

You mimic him and look at your own menu but you’re not even hungry. You’re actually feeling sick thinking about why you’re actually here. You’re nervous as shit to have this conversation. You just know he’s going to break your heart and you suppose you can’t even be upset with him since you deserve it for leaving him all that time ago without even so much a goodbye. But the thing is, you actually actually left because you were terrified to see the look on his face so you fled to avoid the pain of seeing how heartbroken he was. 

“So,” he says, taking a deep sigh as he sets his menu on the table, looking you in the eyes as he does so. 

“So,” you repeat in the same fashion and furrow your eyebrows when he brings his hands up to cover his face, scrubbing at his eyes. He then slaps his hands onto the table which startles you, looking at you with that fire that you’ve missed the entire night. 

“I’ve gotta be honest,” he says, his gaze still burning into yours. “I’ve missed you. Like, so much that I can’t even stand it.” He knows that it’s rushed and that he probably sounds crazy and eyes widen at his confession, he’s terrified that he’s scaring you away. God, he’s driving you away again, fucking up one more time before you leave his life for good. He just can’t seem to get it right. 

Before he can even finish his speech that he’s been writing in his head for months because in the blink of an eye, you’re sitting right next to him, a goofy but adorable grin on your face. He has no idea what’s going on but he sure as hell isn’t going to deny you being in such close proximity to him. 

“I’m sorry,” he replies, nervous all over again because even though you’re smiling at him, he can’t help but feel iscared that you’re going to slip through his fingers. “I-I don’t know why I said that. I just-”

“Eddie,” you cut him off, your hands cradling his cheeks like they used to and his eyes widen as he stares at you, wondering what you’re going to do next. 

“Yeah?” He asks, his voice small for the first time tonight. 

“Will you please just shut up?” You ask before pressing your lips to his, pouring out all of your repressed emotions for the past year pouring into it and you don’t even care that you’re crying. You just need this and apparently Eddie does too because his arms are wrapped tightly around you, his own tears trailing down his cheeks as he involuntarily whimpers against your lips. 

This is the best way he’s ever been shut up in his life and it’s crazy to him just quickly you’re both able to do this after so long, picking it up like it’s nothing. It gets progressively more hungry and as you’re sticking your tongue into his mouth, you suddenly realize where you are, deciding that you can’t exactly do what you’re doing here. So you stand from the table and offer him your hand which he gladly takes. 

You’re both out the door in a flash and as soon as you’re heading down the alley between the diner and the other building, you’re pulling Eddie into the dark, pressing yourself to the wall as your lips find his again, somehow even more hungry than before. You’re both crying again but you’re too caught up in your need for each other to be embarrassed. 

His hands are sliding up your dress as he kisses down to your, nipping at whatever skin he’s able to get his teeth on as he goes. It starts off as gentle kisses as he murmurs the words “I missed you” against your skin but it gets progressively more intense as he begins to suck on your skin, making your brain feel fuzzy. 

“I missed you too,” you moan as he pushes you gently against the wall. He’s pulling down your thong and you let him despite being so out of practice that you’ve felt so nervous about sleeping with anyone else. Being with Eddie, though, just feels so right. 

You unbutton his jeans and pull them down with his underwear, so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t even notice that he’s slid himself inside you, both of you grunting at the tight fit.  

He’s moving slowly at first but progressively gets faster, missing the feeling of being inside you, missing the way you moan, the way you grab onto him, scratching up any part of him you can get your hands on, missing you. God has he missed you. It feels so right being here with you now.

He’s moving so fast, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pumps and pumps, his lips finding yours again, biting down on your bottom lip as another moan slips past your lips. It’s loud and he’s eating it up, wondering how much more he can get out of you before you’re absolutely spent. 

You’re close already but to see how long you can hold out. You’ve gone so long without him between your legs that it doesn’t take much for you to orgasm, to completely undone as he bottoms out inside you. He’s still going as you whine his name, pumping in and out, in and out until he reaches his own orgasm, moaning so loudly that you’re almost concerned that someone is going to hear him. 

The words “I love you” fall from his lips and you melt when you hear them, so happy that he still feels the same way, that the love you have for each other has never faded. You’re both smiling now as you pull him into another kiss, mumbling the words back to him against his lips. A laugh escapes his lips as he pulls away and he picks you up and spins you around. He’s the happiest he’s been in so long. 

“C’mon, angel,” he says, grabbing hold of your hand and leading you back to his van that’s around the corner. “Let’s go home.”

[aaagustd]

stay | kth (m)

title: stay pairing: kim taehyung x (f)reader genre/rating: established relationship, smut , fluff; 18+ summary: Sometimes you can be a lot, but Taehyung knows just what you need. warnings: unedited, mentions a petty argument, tae pulling up with the receipts, makeup sex, hickeys, hair tugging, lowkey brat tamer!tae, small Dom/sub vibes, wrist pinning, soft sex, orgasm control, begging, slight edging, i think that’s all wc: 0.7k release date: february 28th, 2025; 10:12pm est author’s note: Someone requested some smutty boyfriend!tae. This is also a repost because tumblr wiped the first one.

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“What’s my name again?”

Hands gripping fistfuls of his dark brown hair, your back arches off your messy bed as Taehyung leaves a trail of hickeys across your chest. 

Waking up to your angry boyfriend standing over you with last night’s messages on display in his hand was a surprise. 

Neither was getting your soul fucked clean out of you before 8AM.

But here you are, a withering mess beneath him, not even able to remember your own name—you sure as hell remember his though.

“Taehyung!—”

“Uh, uh.”

He silences your cries with a gentle kiss on your lips, contrasting the way his hips violently snap as they deliver thrust after thrust.

Taehyung’s consistency leads you to your peak in little time, but just as the sweet taste of ecstasy falls on your tongue, his pace decreases, bringing your pleasure to an agonizing halt.

“What did you call me last night?” he teases, reminding you of all the things you typed in the heat of the moment.

Whines instantly tear from your parted lips. But Taehyung doesn’t bat an eye of sympathy for you; instead, he mocks your disappointment.

“Aw, being bratty isn’t working out for you, huh?”

Taking both your wrists, he pulls you away from his thick tresses and pins them above your head. He sinks deeper, touching your cervix while he stares at you with those dark eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, your voice hoarse and trembling. “You’re not an asshole.”

He smirks.

“Of course, I’m not.”

Taehyug nearly pulls all the way out of you only to swiftly thrust back in. You yelp his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but that doesn’t deter him one bit.

“An asshole, wouldn’t drive an hour after working 14 hours just so he can see you,” he growls in your ear. “Would he?”

“No!”

You cry out as he carries out the same movement as before, but this time, it’s with more precision. Your walls quiver as the tip of his dick hits your G-spot.

The sensation in your gut is slowly returning, and you aren’t sure if you can handle another missed opportunity. You try your hardest to make up for your silly little rant so that your boyfriend will do what he always does—fuck your brains out and then cater to you like you’re his queen.

“Assholes can’t fuck you like this. Can’t they, baby?”

Taehyung seems to be feeling the exact thing. His body is tense as he begins to slide slowly in and out of your crevice. He squeezes your wrists, fighting back the urge to chase his high before he can prove his point.

“No, Tae—”

His lips cut you off, kissing you deeply while he fucks you into the mattress. Your hips lift off the bed to match his thrusts, fueling Taehyung to fuck you faster and harder. Your tongues swirl around each other’s, adding to the lewd sounds resonating throughout your bedroom.

As the sex gets hotter, your moans get louder, and soon your legs are wrapping around your boyfriend’s waist. He chuckles, knowing how desperate you’ve become in the palm of his hand. He knows you’ll do anything to reach your sweet peak.

“Say my name again,” he requests. “I won’t interrupt.”

“Taehyung…”

Without hesitation, his name rolls off your tongue, and it does again and again—until he decides he’s done playing his little game.

“Cum.”

Like he flipped a switch, your body reacts to his command. The wave hits you hard, making you freeze in place as Taehyung fucks you senselessly. His movements become wild, but his intentions are clear. He holds on with everything he has, ensuring you reach your peak before he seeks his own pleasure.

Only when you’re squirming with sensitivity does he pull out, stroking his dick until he paints your thighs with his hot seed.

Both of you stay in your positions, exhausted and out of breath—the argument long gone out of your minds. You look at his defeated figure hovering above you, trying to find something to clean you before he takes off. 

However, you couldn’t care less about the mess. There’s only one request you have for your man as you reach for him and pull him closer.

“Stay.”

…And he does.

[no-144444]

confronting- o.piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! Skyf1interviewer! reader

summary: a confrontation in a hotel room doesn't go so well thanks to Franco's loud mouth...

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

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Entertaining the idea of dating Oscar when you knew you’d be gone at the end of the season wasn’t fair. He deserved someone who’d be there for every race, be there for him. You weren’t that person. You weren’t the person anyone should want, you just weren’t like that. 

Qatar rolled around and Oscar won the Sprint, and he was P3 in the race. You were meant to do the interviews. He knew that. That’s why he frowned when he was met with Jenson’s face at the end of the race. 

“Where’s Y/n?” he asked, not holding the microphone up to his mouth. 

Jenson smirked. “Missing her?”

Oscar nodded. 

“She’s with Franco, he was pretty upset after the crash.”

“Oh,” he nodded, and the interview began. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

It’s not like you were trying to avoid him, it was just… easier that way. And Franco really was quite shaken after the crash, so that part wasn’t a lie either. You just didn’t want to deal with all of the shit the media and people online would give the two of you. You just wanted a nice, clean break from the world of F1, and the people online who shipped you and Oscar would never let that happen. It was upsetting, because he really was a good friend to you, and you thought you were a good friend to him. Maybe it could’ve been something else, if things were different. You sat with Franco, calming him down since he was pretty upset that his second last race of the season was fucked by a silly turn-one incident. 

“What’s going on with you and that model?” you asked. He chuckled. 

“Oh my, you saw it too? It’s so embarrassing,” he sighed. “Even my mother has been asking me about it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” you laughed at his reaction. “We can talk about anything you want.”

“What’s going on with you and Oscar?” he smirked and your face fell slightly. 

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “We’re friends.”

“Friends?” he pried. “You two seem like more than ‘friends’ to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “We’re not. We’re just friends,” you assured him. 

Franco sat up, leaning closer to you. He was so close his breath was on your cheek, his eyes staring longingly into yours. You knew what he was doing.  “So he wouldn’t mind it if someone kissed you, no?”

You laughed, pushing him back down to his previous position of lying down. “Stop being weird. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. He shouldn’t care anyway.”

“Let’s test that,” Franco challenged. “Kiss me in front of him, and then we’ll know. I’ll ask Lando to tell me about it, they’re close, right?”

You sighed, something about it felt a little bit… manipulative. And it’s not like you were looking for Oscar to like you back, he didn’t. That’s what he’d said the last time, it was only a joke, a prank, a mistake. Which was fine with you, of course. It made sense. You couldn’t be there for him while you were supposed to be there for someone else. Someone else on his team. 

Ok, so maybe the move to Indycar isn’t just about Sky starting to cover it. Maybe, they need more European fans, and you have to go over there and sell it to them with a relationship with Pato O’Ward. Maybe McLaren is paying you a lot of money to do that. 

Just maybe though. 

“I can’t do that Franco,” you explained. “It’s not fair. And anyways, I’m kind of… seeing someone.”

“Is it Oscar?!” he questioned. You shook your head. “Lando? Lance? Zhou? Yuki? Who?” “He’s not in F1!” you giggled, watching as Franco freaked out. 

“Who is he?! You have to tell me right now!” he begged, taking your hands. 

“He’s in Indycar, that’s all I’ll tell you,” you smirked and his jaw dropped. 

“Is that why you’re leaving?!” he almost shouted. 

“No! Sky really is just branching out, but yes, it is nice that I’ll actually be able to watch his races,” you chuckled. 

“I’ll miss you,” he frowned. 

“I’ll miss you too,” you chuckled, pulling him in for a hug. “Now, I have to go do my post-race duties, so I’ll see you in Abu Dhabi, alright?”

He frowned even deeper. “Alright,” he mumbled. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me!”

You left the Williams garage with a smile on your face, very much amused by your conversation with Franco. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You pulled up to the media pen, really to meet with Jenson and Nico, your co-hosts this weekend, but they were nowhere to be seen. Regardless, you prepared yourself with the running order. 

Lance, Lando, Max, Checo, Zhou, and Fernando. That’s all you had to get through before you got on a flight to Abu Dhabi the next morning. After another few minutes of waiting, Nico and Jenson showed up, acting slightly strange. They weren't really speaking to you, only with each other. It’s not like they were excluding you, just… not asking for your input. They seemed guilty too. 

Lance, Lando, Max, and Checo were all fine, polite and out of there quickly. Oscar didn’t show up. Unsurprising, as you had been avoiding him. Zhou and Fernando went by in a flash, and you were back to your hotel by 2am. 

When you walked into your hotel, you were not expecting to see Oscar Piastri standing outside your door. 

Holy shit. You were so astronomically fucked. 

“What are you doing here?” you questioned. He turned to you. 

He cleared his throat. He’d been thinking of a response to that question since the second he’d started waiting outside for you. What was he doing? This was insane. His plan was to make you stay, but he was much too upset to talk rationally when he got the text from Franco about you seeing an Indycar driver. Honestly, it crushed him. He genuinely thought you’d liked him. “I wanted to… talk? Or something, just to gauge what the fuck is going on here,” he was getting heated, and you understood he was probably angry with you, and it’s not like he didn’t have a reason. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, opening your hotel room door and letting him inside. 

“You’re going to Indycar?” he questioned. “What the fuck?”  

You gulped, hard. “Yeah?” 

“Why?” he demanded. “What does Indycar have that F1 doesn’t? F1 is faster cars, faster drivers, more money, more races, more countries, more-”

“Oscar! Did it ever occur to you that this wasn’t my fucking choice?!” you shouted over him. Silence. “Indycar doesn’t have Sky coverage, but Europeans are interested in the sport and they need a known interviewer to go there and make it easier to sell it to people, and I got picked. That’s it.” 

“So it has nothing to do with whatever Indycar driver you’re fucking?” he scoffed. Your face fell. Your eyes fell to the hardwood floor beneath your feet. “Yeah, I know.”

Your face soured and you looked up again, offended. Who did he think he was? He had no say in your life at all. You’d hated him for 2 years, and you had no real reason to, now you had one. “I owe you nothing Oscar. I’m an adult in a consenting relationship, and yes he’s in Indycar, is that a crime?” 

“Is that why you’re going over there?” he asked, stepping closer to you. You could cut the atmosphere in the room with a knife. “Or are you running away from something here?” 

“Fuck you,” you pushed him back. This wasn't the Oscar you knew. He was different, angry, mean, and rude. You owed him nothing. “Get out.” 

He nodded, and left without another word. 

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mclaren masterlist

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[joudeq]

kento x reader

~ cornball

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modern au : nerd!nanami x reader

tags : fluff / AWFUL jokes / hes a silly nerd / TW: exams / modern au / jjk / kento x reader (not gender specific) / oneshot

a/n : just a short nanami drabble bc i love him hes such a stupid loser

context : hes your nerdy roommate and you're both studying for upcoming finals, you find yourself overwhelmed with the workload and he tries cheering you up

ALSO 8 followers i love u guys

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The low hum of your desk lamp filled the otherwise quiet room. The exam was just a couple of days away, and the tension was eating away at you. You had been studying for hours, your brain already tired of trying to memorize everything. Each sentence on the page started to blur together, and you found yourself thinking more about how much you wanted a break than the material in front of you.

Nanami, on the other hand, was the picture of composure. He sat across the room, as usual, his posture straight and his focus unwavering. You could hear the sound of his pen scratching across the paper, making meticulous notes in the margins of his textbook.

You tried to focus on your own work, but it was useless. Your mind kept wandering. Finally, you couldn't take it any longer. You let out an exasperated sigh, slumping down in your chair.

"I'm going to fail," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes in frustration. "I can't do this. There's s no way."

He glanced up from his work, his usual calm and composed expression softened by a hint of concern. "You're fine," he said gently. "You've been studying for weeks. You'll be ready."

You groaned again, feeling the weight of your anxiety pressing down on you. "It just doesn't feel like enough. I can't focus. My brain is mush after digesting that much chemistry at once!"

He set his textbook aside and stood up slowly, walking toward you. He was always so composed, like the world was always under control. But tonight, something about the way he looked at you made him seem a little unsure, even bashful.

"I think you need a break," Nanami said, his voice unusually soft. "Maybe... maybe I could tell you a joke? That might help, right?"

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was serious. Nanami? Kento Nanami? Telling a joke? You could never imagine him doing such a thing. His usual serious, no-nonsense demeanor didn't exactly scream 'comedian.'

"You?" you asked, almost teasing. "You want to tell me a joke?"

He shifted awkwardly, his face turning a faint pink, and you could tell that this was definitely not his comfort zone. "Well, I thought It might make you feel better?"

You sat up straighter in your chair, genuinely curious now. You didn't expect your roommate to go for something like this. "Alright, I'm all ears," you said with a genuine smile, even though it was a little teasing.

Nanami cleared his throat, straightening up and pushing up his glasses as though he were about to deliver some profound piece of wisdom. There was a nervous energy about him, and you could see the awkwardness in the way he held his hands at his sides. "Okay, here goes. It's a simple one, don't get your hopes up." he muttered.

You waited expectantly, trying to hold back a smile.

"Why don't skeletons fight each other?" he asked, the serious tone in his voice making it sound like this was a big deal.

You blinked at him, confused but intrigued. "Uh,why?"

And without missing a beat, Nanami hesitated for just a moment, then nervously blurted out:

"Because they don't have the guts."

....

A long silence followed. Nanami's gaze flickered to the floor, looking extremely uncomfortable as he waited for a response. You froze for a moment, processing the full weight of the corny joke. You stared at him, and he was just standing there, his cheeks lightly flushed, clearly waiting for you to either laugh or tell him how terrible it was.

You couldn't t help it. The awkwardness of it all was too much. You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as you practically collapsed onto the desk.

"Oh my god, Nanami," you gasped between giggles. "That was...That was so bad!"

Nanami's face turned a deep red, and he immediately looked away, a little embarrassed. "I thought it might help - you know, make you smile," he stammered, scratching the back of his neck. "It was a good joke, right? I mean - it's classic humor," he looked at you then, his eyes sparkling as if he was seeking your approval, a small smile curling the corners of his lips as he watched you laugh.

You wiped away a tear from the corner of your eye, still chuckling. "It was so bad that it was hilarious. I'm literally dying here."

Nanami shuffled awkwardly, clearly unsure how to respond. He had always been so calm, so serious, but seeing him this flustered made him even more endearing. He cleared his throat again, still trying to regain his usual cool. "It was just a joke," he muttered, his hands still slightly trembling. "I thought I'd lighten the mood."

You straightened up, finally able to control your laughter, and gave him a softer smile. "You definitely lightened the mood. In a very unique way."

He rubbed the back of his neck, still flushed but also looking a bit relieved that you weren't somehow upset. "I shall try harder next time. Maybe I'll work on my material."

You smiled at him, feeling your nerves ease a little. "Nah, you're good. You've definitely earned a break for the night. But next time, maybe leave the dad jokes for another day, okay?"

He raised an eyebrow at you, a little embarrassed but also clearly pleased to have made you laugh, even if in the most awkward way possible. "I'll take your criticism as a compliment."

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you, It was the way he had stepped out of his comfort zone just to make you feel better, to bring some levity into your stressful night.

Suddenly, the tension in your shoulders seemed to ease, and you realized that for the first time tonight, you were genuinely at ease. Nanami had managed to make you forget about the looming exam, if only for a moment. And in that moment, everything else felt a little less important.

You paused for a moment, looking at him with a soft smile. The warmth in his expression was enough to make your heart flutter, and without thinking, you stepped forward and gently kissed his cheek, your lips lingering for just a second.

Nanami froze for a moment, his face going beet red. "W-What was that for?" he stammered, clearly caught off guard.

You smiled at him, feeling a rush of affection as you took a step back. "For making me laugh," you said softly, your eyes lingering on his flustered face. "You're a good guy, Nanami."

He blinked, still processing the kiss, and you could see the tips of his ears turning red. "Oh, um.. thank you," he mumbled, his usual stoic nature failing him for a moment.

The awkward tension in the air was gone, replaced with the comfortable silence between you two. You both knew that the exam was still there, looming over your heads, but for a little while, it didn't matter.

Well, not until you opened the exam paper in front of you the next day.

Sheesh, you seriously should've studied for this.

[bytemee]

extra content (chapter eight) | WHERE DO YOU SLEEP? — YU JIMIN.

𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 — y/n, a rising music producer, has built her dream career while keeping her personal life under wraps. karina, aespa’s leader, is preparing for a huge comeback with a mini album produced and written by the one and only y/n.

karina knows this is the opportunity of a lifetime, and she has to nail it. the only problem is, she may be a bit distracted by her producer.

something about their connection feels different—like maybe it's worth the risk of prying eyes. but how much will they give up to chase after what they want?

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — read chapter eight before this, social media only chap, my silly humour, youtube & twitter themed, suggestive jokes, and let me know if there's more.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 — 1.9k

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲— um tried something different

taglist (open) — @sunshinez4 @gtfoiydlyj @yuyuy90 @liaponderstings @rinapomu @bimkayd @minaripenguu

series masterlist. main masterlist. chapter eight.

Y/N in Milan | PRADA S/S 2025 Womenswear Show behind

1.1M views | 367.2k likes | Nov 20, 2024

[the vlog begins]

(about to get on the plane headed to milan)

the camera focuses on your face as you wait in line to board the plane, headphones slung around your neck, a hat pulled low over your head. you're standing there, feeling a little bit in awe of how far you've come. "guess what popped into my head today?" you say, tilting your head toward the lens with a small smile.

"i thought about my first world tour and all of a sudden i was just like... am i getting old?" you laugh a little, shaking your head. "the world tour for she was over four years ago, and i was so young, but it feels like only yesterday."

(nostalgia creeping in)

"it's crazy, right? time flies by so fast, and you don't even realize how much has changed until you stop and think about it. i mean, a lot has happened in the last four years."

the line starts moving, and you take a step forward, thoughts floating through your mind. it's wild to think about how much has changed in just a few years—things you used to only dream about are happening now, and it all feels like it came out of nowhere.

(fond)

"but i guess it's normal, isn't it? to look back at your younger self and see how much you've changed, or how much you haven't."

[cut scene]

(need to board the plane soon)

"it's crazy," you say, chuckling and shaking your head, "i'm nervous to take off my hat," the line is getting shorter and shorter, and you are closer and closer to boarding the plane. "it's surprise under here. you'll see it soon enough when i'm all the way in milan," the line moves, and you follow suit, throwing up a peace sign.

(*^-^)V

[cut scene]

(stepping off the plane, arriving in milan)

the camera catches you walking through the airport, your energy high as you adjust your bag over your shoulder. "okay, milan, let's do this," you say, looking around as you walk. "i feel like i've missed you more than you've missed me probably," the camera is now facing you as you walk, your voice slightly shaky from the plane ride.

(excited)

"we're here in milan for prada's 2025 womenswear show. im pretty excited, i've been to a few menswear and womenswear shows before, and they're always so unique. each year is just something new, and i'm happy that i'm able to go."

(smiling so hard it's starting to hurt)

"okay, where's the nearest gelato shop?"

[cut scene: you holding a gelato cone, the camera zooming in on the treat.]

"this is literally the best thing i've ever tasted. like, what the...flip." you say, taking another lick of the gelato. the camera is still trained on the gelato, and you laugh at the zoom-in, moving the camera to face you again. "we should stop this," you say, laughing, "it's getting a bit weird, isn't it?"

(still eating gelato, a bit of chocolate at the corner of y/n's mouth)

(is completely oblivious)

(manager is cruel for not telling her)

"milan's gelato is next level, and i'm not even exaggerating," you say, holding up the cone like it's a prized trophy. "this is literally heaven in a cone. like, i could live here and eat this every single day, no problem."

the camera shifts to focus on the gelato, chocolate starting to drip down the side, a messy but beautiful masterpiece.

"i'm not kidding, this might inspire a song," you say, almost to yourself, eyes glued to the cone. "seriously, i'm thinking about writing something. i mean, look at it. how could i not?"

(is very serious)

(the chocolate is still on her face)

softly, you start singing under your breath, voice low and smooth: "i see you when i sleep at night. dwibakkwin natgo bam... you know i dream you, right?"

your eyes flutter closed for a moment as you take another bite, the melody lingering in the air. the camera pans back to your face, chocolate smudged at the corner of your mouth. your eyes suddenly pop open, and you grin wide, realizing what you've just done.

"oh, whoops. i think i just leaked an unreleased song," you say with zero regret, your smile growing wider. behind the camera, jamie groans dramatically.

"it's called 'gelato,'" you announce, licking the cone confidently as the camera zooms in on your face. "don't even think about stealing the title, i mean it."

(a few minutes later)

"okay, real talk, this might be the best thing i've eaten," you pause, contemplating. "or at least top three. yeah, definitely top three." the camera pans down to your now-empty cone as you lick the melted chocolate off your fingers, clearly satisfied.

you toss the cone into a nearby trash bin, wiping your hands on a napkin. "and now, i'm officially ready for the show." with a playful grin, you throw up two peace signs.

V(￣∇￣)V

[cut scene to hotel room]

the camera opens to your hotel room, a perfect blend of cozy luxury, with sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. you're perched in front of a vanity, dressed in a fluffy white robe, while your team is already in full swing. one stylist adds the finishing touches to your makeup, blending highlighter along your cheekbones, while another carefully adjusts your wig—its blonde strands so flawless, it looks like you were born with them.

(dun dun dun)

(hair reveal!!!)

you smile into the mirror as the hair stylist combs through the strands, adding a few pins here and there. you turn to look at the camera, eyes bright and smile wide, the most natural expression ever.

(still feeling out the new color)

"so, we've reached the big reveal, haven't we?" you say, your fingers lightly run through your hair.

[cut scene: quick photoshoot before leaving the hotel]

the next part of the vlog shows a mini-photoshoot happening right in the hotel lobby. there's a portable backdrop and a couple of lights set up, nothing too fancy, but it gets the job done. you're standing in front of it, fully in your outfit now, looking like you just walked out of a magazine.

you move through a bunch of easy poses—hands in your pockets, leaning slightly to the side, tilting your head a little. at one point, you flash a grin, and it feels so natural it might've been unplanned. the photographer keeps snapping away, hyping you up with stuff like, "that's perfect!" and "just one more shot!"

(a quick spin to show off the fit)

you even throw in a little playful spin, laughing because you almost trip, but it ends up looking cool in the footage.

after a few more photos, you call it a wrap, giving the camera a peace sign before heading out the door.

[cut scene: arriving at the event]

the scene cuts to the outside of the car as it pulls up to the event. the second the door cracks open, you hear it—the screams. like, actual screams.

you step out, looking cool but trying not to trip on the way. you adjust your jacket, give the crowd a little smile, and wave. then you wave again. and again. and again, because everywhere you turn, people are shouting your name.

(camera flashes everywhere)

you pause on the red carpet, cameras clicking furiously as you strike a few poised yet approachable poses. you remain composed, but inside, your heart is beating wildly. it doesn't matter how many red carpets you walk, there's something about the excitement, the anticipation, that makes you want to jump out of your skin.

[cut scene: entering the showroom]

the camera follows you as you step into the showroom, and immediately, it's like you've walked into another world. everything feels grand—high ceilings, soft lighting that makes everything look like a movie, and rows of perfectly set chairs with the runway in the middle.

but before you even get a second to take it all in, the cameras are back.

(flashes everywhere again)

photographers are everywhere, snapping pics like it's a competition. you're barely two steps inside, but they already want your attention. you try not to blink, but the flashes are so intense, and they won't stop going off.

(finally got seated) (is just happy to sit for a second)

the camera catches you pulling your phone up, using it as a makeshift mirror while your tongue pokes out in concentration.

(silver-haired y/n, inspecting their look) (not sure yet?)

"it looks better in person," you mutter, mostly to yourself, a small smile tugging at your lips. the silver strands are a bold choice, but it fits. the color looks like it was made for you, and the way the strands catch the light makes your head shimmer.

"it's a change," you admit with a soft laugh, tilting your head as if that'll give you a better view. "but i like it. plus, it's temporary, so no pressure, right?"

[cut scene: still fixing your hair]

a few seconds later, you're back at it, smoothing down the flyaways.

[cut scene: and again]

this time, you frown slightly, brushing the strands down with more focus.

"she'd yell at me if she saw this," you joke quietly, clearly talking about your stylist.

(camera catches y/n looking very serious about this hair thing)

after one last adjustment, you sit back and sigh, smoothing your outfit while flashing the camera an exaggerated frown.

[cut scene]

you stop fussing with your hair, finally sitting back in your seat, waiting for the show to start. you look around, taking in the glamorous atmosphere of the showroom—people chatting, cameras flashing, and everyone looking polished and chic.

as you scan the room, your eyes meet Karina's for a split second. you freeze, almost caught off guard, before quickly looking away, your heart rate picking up a bit. you pause for a second, remembering where you are and the eyes on you.

(AESPAS KARINA 💙💙💙)

with a soft smile, you look back at her, offering a small wave and saying, "hey."

she smiles back, motioning to the camera behind you. you follow her cue and turn the camera with a small smile on your face.

^_^

picking up your your seat indicator card, the one with your name on it, you pose with it like it's the most natural thing in the world.

(so photogenic)

(so natural)

(no awkwardness here)

(just a very cool and talented musician)

[cut scene] the show starts, and you're just sitting back, soaking it all in. the lights dim, the music kicks in, and models start strutting down the runway in all kinds of crazy cool outfits. it's all so surreal, and you can't help but smile, staring at everything happening in front of you.

you pull out your phone, snapping a few pics and trying to keep up with everything without looking like a total tourist.

(snapping a few pictures)

you glance at the camera once more, shrugging a little as if to say, "what can i say, this is really cool."

[cut scene: after the show]

the show's done, and you're walking out of the showroom, still buzzing from the experience. fans are all lined up outside, screaming and waving, and you make sure to wave back, giving them the attention they deserve.

(still waving and smiling)

you blow a few kisses and throw up a peace sign, grinning the entire time.

you keep waving, your energy infectious, and soon, everyone around you is doing the same.

(is so kind to everyone)

(so grateful)

[cut scene]

cut to you, now back in your hotel room, finally alone. you sit down in front of the mirror, letting out a small sigh as you brush your hand through your hair that was now your natural hair color.

(a quiet moment)

"today was a long day," you admit, letting your hands fall in your lap. it was so cool though," you add, nodding. "the glasses and the accessories were just—so cool. and the way they used metal in the outfits? it was everything. so futuristic but still wearable, you know?"

you start to get more excited, gesturing with your hands as you talk. "there were so many different elements used, like a mix of hard and soft textures. so many contrasts, but it all worked together. definitely one of the most fun shows I've ever watched."

(knock knock knock)

you jump a little, pausing, then quickly add, "i'll head out now, bye." you give the camera a small wave.

[end of video]

series masterlist. main masterlist. chapter eight.

[boybandbaby]

I’ll Be Alright (Evan Buckley x SingleMom!Reader)

911 Masterlist (other SingleMom!Reader fics)

summary: Buck gets hurt on a call. Evie is scared of hospitals but Buck helps her through it.

word count: 1457

warnings/tags: injury due to fire, child panic attack, mention of parent/grandparent death, as always if I missed anything lmk

note: new chapters for my series The Sweet Escape are on hold for a bit as I’ve come to a writer’s block. I have an idea for the next three chapters but I just gotta get to writing. For now, here’s more SingleMom!reader x Buck

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Evie knew something was wrong when you picked up her and the passenger seat was empty. She had spoken to Buck through a mouthful of fruity pebbles about how excited she was to see him today.

Buck had promised her a trip to McDonald’s to start the weekend off. She was young but not young enough to notice when her mother was sad or scared. As she climbed into the back seat, backpack slinging alongside her and hitting the back of her calves, she clocked the silence from the radio. Another sign that something was wrong.

“Hi baby, how was school?” You ask. It comes out quiet and cautious.

“Mommy, what’s wrong? Where’s Buck?” She buckles herself in. “Did you guys break up?”

“No!” You screech, then chuckle all watery. “No, it’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is?” She pouts.

“Hold on alright?” You pull the car out of the pick up line and park in a nearby grocery store parking lot. She watches as you turn the engine off, get out of the car and make your way to her door. “I don’t want you to worry, okay?”

You kneel slightly beside her, hands holding hers. “Baby, Buck got hurt while at work today. He’s in the hospital right now.”

“Oh…” She looks down to your intertwined hands.

“He’s okay, he just needs a lot of rest.”

Bobby had called you sometime in the morning that Buck was taken to a hospital due to a piece of roof falling on him and breaking his right shoulder and partially hitting his head. Luckily, his gear kept his head semi-safe (a small concussion but not visible damage) and there was no burns.

You watch with concern as her face becomes stoic and her hand clench in yours.

“Evie? Evie!” You shake her shoulders gently. Her chest is rapidly rising and falling and her eyes fill with tears.

She breaks from her trance at your raised voice. “I want to go home.”

The car ride is silent as you make your way home. You peek in the rearview at every stop sign or red light to see her staring straight ahead. Her eyes look hollow and she makes no attempts to wipe the tears rolling down her cheeks.

Last time Evie saw someone she loved in a hospital bed was when her grandpa (her father’s dad) died. He had requested to see her and shortly after he had passed. When she came back from the cafeteria with you, he was covered with a sheet and pronounced dead already. You realized maybe she was too young and took her home.

When you get home, she heads straight for her room, asking if she can take a nap. You get down to your knees and open your arms for her. She wraps her arms around your neck and cries into your shoulder.

“Buck is so strong, remember? He’s going to be totally fine babe. I know it’s scary to hear.”

“When can he come home?” She squeaks through her sniffles. It’s cute to hear her ask when he’s coming “home” considering he doesn’t actually live with you, yet at least.

“Not sure yet. I’m waiting for Bobby to call me. Go take a nap and I’ll wake you in time for dinner.” She nods and gives you a kiss to your cheek before taking her nap.

Two hours later, she’s still sleeping when you sit at the edge of her bed. “Hey, I just spoke with Bobby. He says Buck is awake and wants to see us.”

“Do I have to go to the hospital?”

“Not if you don’t want to. Maybe we can see if Eddie will FaceTime with us? Is that okay?”

“I don’t want to see him.” She wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Can I wait here while you go?”

“Who’s gonna watch you, silly?”

“I’m old enough, I’m almost 10.”

“What if you wait with Bobby in the waiting room? How does that sound?” She nods, relenting.

Once you get to the hospital, you immediately find the 118 in the waiting room.

“You stay here and listen to Bobby okay? Here’s 5 dollars to get something from the vending machine.” You give her a kiss on her forehead as Bobby holds a hand out for her.

“Alright kid, let’s go see what we’re working with.” She hands him the money, then takes his hand.

You make your way down the hall, guided by a nurse who knocks on Buck’s door. You creep inside and thank the nurse.

“Hi handsome, how are you feeling?” You sit beside him on the bed, kissing his forehead.

“Like shit. I’m glad you’re here though. Where’s our girl?” He furrows his brows.

“She sends her love but she doesn’t want to see you.” You hold his hand and run your thumbs along his knuckles.

“Is she upset with me for not being there to pick her up?” He pouts.

You snort before affirming, “It’s not you.” You sigh, beginning to explain why you believe she is acting the way she is.

“I see.” He nods, “where is she now?”

“She’s with Bobby in the waiting area.”

Buck begins to get up from the bed. “Stop. You need to rest. You have a concussion, Buck.”

“My legs work just fine.” He sasses.

“You’re on pain medication right now. You need to take it easy.”

“Fine, can you get my nurse for me?”

“Buck, you better stay in this bed, I’m so serious.” You warn.

“I am, I am. My call button is not working.”

“Right…” you roll your eyes but oblige him. You’re barely down the hallway when you see him escaping his room. With a shake of your head, you turn back around to follow him out to the waiting area.

Evie sees him just as he’s passing the authorized personnel door. She cowers against Bobby’s shoulder, in her chair. She just turned 9 but she’s still your baby and she acts as such.

“Hey, no need to be scared. It’s just me.” Buck gently whispers, kneeling in front of her. He ahhhs at the aches in his body as his undamaged hand reaches out for Evie.

“Evie, look, I’m totally fine. Just a little scratch, nothing major.”

She refuses to look at him, Bobby’s arm shielding her from her fears.

“I know I have a scary job sometimes. I can’t promise that I won’t get hurt again, but I promise I will try to keep myself safe enough to always come back to you and mommy.”

She shakes her head, a mix of tears and chocolate smearing against Bobby’s shirt.

“Here, give me your hand.” Buck lays his hand out, palm up. “This is my cast and sling. They’ll help me heal.” He guides her hand over the cast decorating his arm.

“How long will you have to wear it?” She gently cries, eyes screwed shut still but open to talking about it.

“Just a few weeks. But do you know what that means?”

“What?” She opens one eye and squints at him.

“I can’t work and I’ll get to spend so much time with you and mommy.” He sings, “That means we can do so many activities together.”

“This is the first time I’ve seen Buck not jumping to get back into action.” Bobby whispers to you. You chuckle and watch as Evie nods to something Buck says. She hops off of the chair and holds onto Buck’s hand.

“Where are you going now?” You scold Buck.

“We’re going back to my room, nurse.” He jokes. “You coming?”

You nod and thank Bobby for watching her.

“Don’t let him annoy you too much during his recovery period.” Bobby laughs.

Evie snuggles with Buck in his bed as they watch Full House on the small tv. Buck scoots over to make room for you. You opt to stay seated in a chair to prevent any strain on his arm.

“You’re going to come stay with us.” You tell him. “Evie and I will take care of you. Isn’t that right babe?”

She nods sleepily as she holds the box of juice Buck gave her.

“When can you be discharged?”

“Tonight if I want.” He shrugs.

“I’ll go talk to the nurse, get your papers signed. You two behave.”

“No promises.” Buck smiles, leaning into the kiss you place on his cheek.

“Mommy? Can you bring us more jello and juice cups?”

“Bring me a lime one please?” Buck gives his best puppy eyes.

“I want orange.” Evie whispers.

“Oh, and an orange one.” He smirks.

“Fine, fine. Orange and lime coming right up.” You playfully sigh, rolling your eyes. These next few weeks should be very interesting.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

[t1ts-4-donaldson]

omggg yessss more jealous alien art plssss🤸‍♂️🗣️💳💥💳🙂‍↕️🙌 alien art who does anything in his willpower to keep you interested i him (he doesn't need to obv but his a dummy) throwing himself at you so you can explore sex more, kissing and touching and stuff (him wanting for you to use the strap again yum) silly little blondie

NSFW 18+ mentions of free use, maybe dub con

YES, his high libido was honestly getting to you, feeling absolutely exhausted whenever he asked for more rounds of sex, whether he was trying to please you or vice versa.

"I can't" you'd plead whenever he'd come up and pull you into his room sitting you on his bed trying to tug your shirt off "can we take a break a few days."

"but I miss you" he pants kissing the column of your neck as you throw your head back "you miss me too right?" he whines nipping your skin cupping your tits over your shirt

you couldn't saying no to his puppy dog eyes not when he's pathetically on his knees slowly pulling down your pants spreading your legs apart nudging his face between your clothed pussy licking a stripe against your underwear wet with your arousal. Acting all innocent when he knows you'd always say yes.

Also is ass out ready for you to fuck him with the strap you know what he wants cause he leaves the bottle of lube and your strap set on your bed, of course he's back arched ready for you.

and no amount of kisses and fucking can satiate his desires you'd honestly turn into his free use toy letting him bend you over the couch or forcing you to sit on his dick in the mornings or slips inside your bed seething himself inside you just to calm him down is a tease about it though keeps sliding his dick through your slick cock working himself up just to stuff himself in you last minute cum in your pussy (think I spoke about this before). It's his favorite little routine.

it got 10 times worse whenever you hang out with guys especially Patrick, will stare at both of you in the corner of the room thinking of ways to end him then jumps your bones the minute he leaves.

He would do anything to mark you too, hickeys, bites, bruises, scratches even leave a residue on your clothes and skin that is hard to wash off (weird alien cum <3). He'd grin happily whenever anyone would mention his markings on you "what that goo on your shirt? You really should take a shower your hands are sticky" so nasty. Yes it's degrading he expects for some kind of punishment maybe the silent treatment but so fucking hot you don't care. Possessive Alien Art just loves you doesn't know how to not be a freak about it.

[suzume2moon]

blue lock boys in other sports/part2

including: yukimiya, reo, shidou, isagi

Yukimiya -> golf

Okay, I admit it, at first it was the glasses. But now I can't unsee it that this guy would make a stunning performance in golf. In my head it's kind of a "rich sport" (and I'm not putting Reo here for a reason) and Yukimiya sure is giving kind of gentleman vibes so far. Also because of his famous gyro-shot, I think he can perfectly handle ball trajectories, even at bigger distances. I'm somewhat sure that he would make golf famous in no time and he would also participate in some sport-brand promotions and charity events. He also makes the perfect person to be asked in an interview, always answering nice and patiently even to the most random (definitey fan-asked) questions.

Reo -> horse riding

Idk if it's said "equestrian" or "dressage" in English but the nice type of horse riding. It's also one of those "rich sports" but it requires a pretty important extra: the ability to form an emotional bond with the horse. Sure, Reo is an egoist, just as the rest of Blue Lock cast, but he also cares deeply - so deeply it almost crushed his soul in the second selection. Horses are really emotional animals too, so I think Reo would be a perfect rider, knowing the mood and needs of his horse out of it's movements and looks. And okay, you're right - he would make a real handsome sight in those costumes.

Shidou -> mma

Don't say you don't see it. I have this hc that he has been raised in an oprhanage or institute but anyways, Shidou would make a great fighter in MMA. For his "original" sport I would say taekwondo or maybe kick box, due to his kicks. I'm sure he would be extremely popular for his extremely spectacular plays and when giving interviews, 9/10 he would give his usual self (explosions, sexual stuff, etc). It's a sight to behold when figure skater Itoshi Sae gets photographed with bloody-faced Shidou (who only wears pants) who looks like he owns the world in that moment. He also has a dragon tattoo on his back and loves to show it off. However he is very - and I mean very - good with kids and never once missed to draw something silly when asked for autographs.

Isagi -> chess

It was a hard choice but hear me out. It's freakin scary when he's looking at you over the board as his opponent and you can almost see the puzzles replaying in his head. He can see through his opponents' plays in a moment, only to destroy them at their peak plays. Outside sport (yes, chess is officially a sport) however he is awkward, almost shy. Definitely has anxiety when gets invited to chess clubs of elementary- and middle schools and on the way there he swears that he won't do it again. But after warming up to a community, he is kind and funny, almost sociable.

first part here

©suzume2moon 2025.03.01.

[sxprot]

dandy x reader where reader is babysitting pebble and pebble likes reader more than Dandy so Dandy and reader kinda have this competition for to be pebbles favorite. in the end it turns out cosmo is pebbles favorite because he gives the most treats to him.

Vibe is like rivals but make it parenting. One ups and jabs

Note: Real shit is when I don't know if the vibe is suitable for the requester, like c'mon, what does that mean?? I gotta do better, I must think about what I'm writing! It's like you're the teacher and I'm here, worrying about my grade. Hope you like it tho! Lol.

Dandy x gn!reader

But the reader is just a little gremlin, they like to cause mischief. Pebble part is platonic(divider cred:cafekitsune)

The shopkeeper isn't fond of you. You were a tad bit childish when it comes to winning, sometimes like to make silly challenges to partake in these...messes. Just a day of him asking you to babysit Pebble and...

Ugh, is it that necessary to you to take Pebble away from him? Dandy can't believe that you already sway the pet rock away with just some small treats.

And Dandy admits, he doesn't understand why you would use this to compete with him, especially using his dog just to be Pebble's favorite.

Now, the pet rock seems to never stick close to him but around you, happily barking to get your attention. Oh, how he likes to cling to you, licking your cheeks affectionately...It makes him rage a little with fury. Or just more than what he could describe?

He feels so sour, despite telling himself that you're simply didn't mean to. But he can never miss the way you would smirk, the smugness behind it when you had won in winning Pebble's attention.

And he knows he had to step in. This competitive side of you irritated him a tad bit, so he might need to get his point across your silly little head!

"Hello! Do you mind if I take Pebble back now?"

"Dandy, it hasn't been that long! What? You think I will steal your friend away?" You snip airily, with a giggle following along "Impatient."

Oh, how dare you to say that! He's no impatient flower, and he already waited for many days to dare and strike a proper conversation with you, what kind of lies are those? Those blatant lies, done openly and unshamedly by you, aren't acceptable

And from that moment on, you two started to take on a challenge: To be Pebble's favorite.

It started from playing, feeding, training and so much more,...To the point most Toons would get tensed when they spotted the two of you already sitting at the table, the dreadful tension filling the once peaceful area.

"Drop it." "Haha, admitting that you already lose?"

But all of those childish yelling is soon ended when the swirl cake roll comes in, waving at Pebble as the dog instantly hops off your lap.

Cosmo would just snicker, based on your reaction to his presence and impact, that seems to satisfy him when you two look back and stare at each other dumbly as if shocked about the results.

You feel awkward. You don't really think, feeling a bit of guilt and embarrassment for doing this, making the shopkeeper flinch in slight surprise at your sputtering words of 'sorry', head bowing down in shame.

But Dandy just shrugged, as if he were hesitating. Dropping a question to start being friends, and leaving behind all of those past troubles and mistakes. He too feels a bit of remorse for some reasons, thinking of it as a great way to start again.

Beside, he found you quite interesting.

He can't lie, all those times when he argues with you, parenting Pebble,...You piqued his interest.

He can be your friend. And he will.

(haha, dies becuz idk. Cosmo is glad because maybe you two would stop this madness after he got pebble's attention xd he had enough of u two frfr)

The fic end quick with a rushed ending, yep thats totally me cuz im suck

[lovelywyenn]

“Oh m-my goddddd” you moan out, a manicured hand desperately pressing against Hange’s abdomen. But your partner was so fucking strong and easily swatted your hands away, grabbing right at your throat and pulling your back flush against their chest. But their hips don’t stop. Of course they don’t fucking stop. The mean pummeling they were giving speeds up.

A wickedly happy laugh falls from Hange’s lips as they stare at your reaction in the mirror. Poor thing, you were a mess. Mascara streaking down your cheeks, she almost felt bad. Seeing the fat globs of tears welling up in your eyes. But they knew you both needed this.

“Why are you runnin’ from it sweetheart, thought you wanted to get pounded?” Hange coos. The sweet words are so confusing, filled with fake kindness. If they were really as giddy as they sounded, why were your guts being rearranged?

Your eyes roll back in your head as Hange’s pulsing tip nudged right against your sweet spot, and if it weren’t for that tight grip on your neck you would have fallen over as your knees buckled.

“Right there, huh baby” and you start to squirm from the spotlight on your g-spot, you shouldn’t have been so fucking loud, because now they weren’t letting up on you. “Yeah, I know mama, you like it when I bully that spot?”

Your voice is barely coherent as you answer them, the desperateness clouding your brain speaking for you, “Yesssss” you keen.

“This all you needed isn’t it, missed me pounding some sense back into you.” Hange speaks and you cry out as they punctuate each hardened word with a mean and rough thrust, each one digging deeper into your quivering hole.

“D-Didn’t mean it” you try to explain, gasping for air, But Hange wasn’t having it. “I don’t care if you meant it or not” they sneer, “No reason I should ever come home and see you in lingerie right next to my best friend.” The humor was completely gone from their voice, and their thrusts held no care in them anymore. Hange was fucking you silly. You needed a good reminder of who you fucking belonged to.

“J-Just wanted y-your attention baby, I s-swear” you stutter.

And Hange gets it. They have been so busy at work lately. Spending long nights in the office so they could afford this big house for you. All the endless name brands you asked for. The insurance for that pretty pink car you drive.

They knew you loved attention, craved it from them. But dammit, loving you was frustrating. You could be so immature sometimes and it left Hange with no choice but to take their anger out on you in the only way they ever did. Pounding your poor pussy raw.

“I know” they finally answer you, grip on your neck growing gentle as they make you look at them. “I wish you’d just be patient sweetheart, I work so hard for you ya know?”

Your eyes flutter close as a gentle kiss is pressed against your cheeks. But those mean ass hips don’t stop moving.

“But if you miss me all you have to do is call, you know that” They say.

You knew your actions were childish. You and hange were grown adults. You shouldn’t be pulling shit like rubbing all up on Levi just cause you felt neglected. And it was a bit shameful you had to be pounded like this, legs quivering and thighs sticky with a filthy mixture of hange’s precum and your juices.

“M-M’sorry” you apologize in that sweet little voice. “I don’t want him, you know I don’t baby. Just want you”

It wasn’t often you apologized, and Hange knew you were sincere. Plus, you knew how to fuel your partner’s ego. And those pretty claims of not wanting Levi went straight to the cock throbbing inside of you.

You were getting closer, Hange could tell by how your walls were squeezing around them. No matter how many times Hange fucked you loose you would always tighten up again. Every time was like the first and it only ever drove Hange closer to their own orgasm.

“It’s okay darling”Hange mummers, pressing kisses along your shoulder. A sneaky hand runs along your body, soon joined by another. One teases around your nipple, touch feather light to the point you could barely feel it. But just enough that it stole some of your sanity. The other traces the delicate curves of your body until it reaches your pretty little bud, perked up and begging for attention.

You cry out as soon as Hange rolls their pointer finger around your clit, and your partner knows they’ve done you in. “Go on sweetheart, make it up to me and cum on my cock, you can do that for me right?”

The words do you over, and you feel like you can’t breathe. Hange’s thrusts send fire throughout your body and you can’t even moan from how fucking deep they were inside of you. You cum with a silent cry, pussy spasming as the squelching in the room only grows louder.

If it weren’t for Hange holding your limp body up, you would have fallen right on your buckled knees.

“F-Fuck woman, ya milkin’ me here darling “Hange stutters, finally giving into the pleasure they had been desperately holding back to teach you a damn good lesson.

You swear you cum again when you feel splashes of white, hot cum ill your hole. And Hange doesn’t stop fucking it into you, just pushing it deeper and deeper until you were sure your birth control would be rendered ineffective.

If being a brat got your pussy stuffed like this…

You would be sure to do it more often.

[ofgeneticperfection]

Of course, she had already been playing that game, or else she would not be where she was today. “Silly me, you are doing a fine job at playing all on your own. I am sure you don’t need much of my advice when it comes to handling people. In regards to Heideggar I am a bit bias with the man. He doesn’t seem to like us very much.” He always had an issue with the Science Department for reasons she wasn’t quite sure of. All she did after all was see to the handling of his Soldiers. Without them he wouldn’t have his army.

Ironically, her exposure story was true, although it was missing a lot of detail. When she had been found Hojo ordered her be brought to the labs. With his assistance she had eventually woke back up and reached a point of stability. That was his key to press onward. His decision to change her had saved her. Perhaps, it was just the right combination or a happy accident. If it wasn’t for her being half-alien she was certain she would need those tune-ups or that she’d be dead by now. It was nice not needing them or having to worry about degradation sure, but what price did she truly pay? At least Alice was still human. Isrieal was Project X.

She laughs to herself when Alice contemplates her being lucky or cursed. “I often ask myself that. Perhaps it’s a bit of both.” The blessing one she had a life. The curse? She had lost all memories prior to waking up where she was now. She had suffered at the hands of the mad man for the first few years until she took her fate into her own hands. Did she truly though? Or did he have her exactly where he wanted her all along. All she had done was prove that she was better than all the other half ass experiments so as not to be discarded. She had wanted to run once but what would she be without him? She had played at the mercy of whatever sick Stockholm events took over her mind. A part deep down still hated him, but the other knew that were it not for him she wouldn’t be alive. Wouldn’t be what she was today. Whether that was a good or bad thing was up to fate.

He had given her a life, crafted her a fake file. Isrieal Romanova. Born Oct. 24th. That was the day she had woken up in his care. Platinum hair, blue eyes, Russian descent. All the obvious things that were good enough for most people and places.  All her credentials, her training and medical certificates were approved thorugh the ShinRa programs and overseen by him. If anyone tried to pull her file that is the basic human one they would find. Nothing interesting to see and moving on. The only off thing was that was a lot of training and expertise she now seemed to hold despite her youthful appearance. Most wouldn’t overthink that.

However, locked so deeply in the depths of the labs and their secrets was a file on her more true. Her medical records, her analysis and entire story. Those files were hidden away under Project X documents. Sure, some close acquaintances in the past had known her truth, but she didn’t share it with anyone she did not completely trust or who wouldn’t understand. It was often other experiments. If not people just as broken as her.

“I don’t know. Like I said everyone is different.” She moves over to the tray to sort her things and start cleaning up. “I don’t expect to find anything.” She tells her. “I just need to see a base line of where everything stands for future comparison. If I have nothing to tell you then consider yourself lucky.” She looks back to meet that determined gaze and it was like looking at herself.

No one was more determined to control everything than Isrieal, even fate itself. She played a dangerous game but she sensed bigger threats were on the horizon. She had her own secret projects she was working on. Ones that could possibly defy death itself and what would that mean? She meets her with resolution. “No. You can control this. We will find a way.” She reaches over to place her last vial in the holder but the room flashes before her eyes. She takes a step back and drops the vial as she places a hand to her head.

The vial seemed to fall in slow motion while a series of images flashed through her mind. Alice. Genesis. Wounds spread with black lines. Alice in a room falling to the ground. Black lines spreading from her thigh, racing across the ground towards her own feet which causes her to sharply gasp just as the vials shatters in that very spot. The same moment a light flickers above her. It snaps her back into reality but that piercing headache remains. Everything that just happened would have been a mere few seconds to Alice.

She hadn’t had any strange visions in some time but they had been more frequent ever since moving Jenova into the building. Most of them made no sense to her but left her with a feeling of dread. Most of them implying fire and chaos to ShinRa but sometimes they were of a person. It had happened with Genesis. She takes a step back from the blood and leans over the nearest counter to hold her head for a moment. The downside to the psychic part of her powers was always the terrible headaches if she used too much force. But these visions always seemed forced upon her. 

“Sorry.” She apologizes while trying to at least pull herself back together. “Migraines, you know?” She draws a blue syringe from her garter and injects it into herself while across the room. “Don’t worry about that.” She gestures in the direction of the broken vial. “You’re good to go. Get some rest.” Her once collected tone now seemed to be rushing her out.

@nakamvra

Drama was exactly the word Alice would use to describe the numerous board meetings she had already attended. Each department had their own agenda and each executive thought their work was far more important than the others'. She would be lying if she said she didn't fall into that same mentality sometimes. Alice was no stranger to the ego that came along with grand ideas.

She was lucky, at the moment, not to be on anyone's bad side. She had made allies in Reeve and Tseng; Heidegger was an ally to Scarlet, and he tolerated Alice well enough that Scarlet was never at her throat. She had a civil relationship with Hojo, and Isrieal now, too. And President Shinra enjoyed parading her around like Shin-Ra's shiniest trophy.

Really, the only director she hadn't made an impression on was Palmer, though the respect of the entire board never seemed to reach him, so Alice had no qualms shutting the man down at every opportunity. She had no desire to build a rapport with him since he served absolutely no purpose in her own ambitions.

"Hm..." Alice considered Isrieal's advice. Playing the game is all she had ever done since joining Shin-Ra. Even before, when she still lived in Junon, the game of the elite was a complex one to learn the rules of, but once she had, she dominated every session. Fake smiles and proper manners got her a long way. It was what recently got her her current position. The board of executives was another party of powerful elite men and women who could sense weakness in an instant and did not hesitate to use that weakness against its owner.

"I've been playing this game a long time... It's almost second nature for me to navigate among people like them. But don't worry about me. I'm quite good at making allies of difficult people." Alice smirked at Isrieal's quip about her own boss. "Heidegger isn't too bad. Loud, obnoxious, and impulsive? Sure. But once you learn to put up with that, you'll find he's actually quite competent."

There were many things Alice disagreed with Heidegger on, and their personalities tended to clash often. However, Alice also respected the authority the man could hold. He was excellent at strategy and rallying troops. He was a massive presence with a massive personality to match, and people listened to him without question.

If she lived long enough, perhaps she'd be around when the man finally croaked. His job is what she was truly after in the long run; she knew he'd die in the position before relinquishing it willingly. For now, though, she liked him well enough not to stage a coup.

Alice watched as Isrieal took a few blood samples, the crimson shine of her own blood feeling foreign. Somehow, despite seeing herself bleed many many times, she always imagined her blood running blue with mako through her veins, so much so it would appear the same once oxidized. Or, perhaps, her own delusions of importance imagined herself to be blue-blooded.

"I hope you don't mind sharing what you find when you run your tests." Alice never asked to see her own file from the labs, having done so once when she was younger and receiving a stern reprimand from Hojo. It's none of your business what I'm doing to you. That's how Alice had interpreted his response. However, Isrieal seemed interested in Alice's inquiries about her own treatment. Lowering the dosage of Mako was a sign that something in her treatments up until this point wasn't quite right, so perhaps she could get more information out of her new acquaintance.

Alice noticed the way Isrieal's body stiffened at the mention of her Mako treatments. Alice sighed, looking over Isrieal as she turned, taking her in as a whole. There was a lot to her that didn't quite make sense... Her story on her exposure to Mako one of those things.

"I don't know whether to consider you lucky or cursed..." Alice finally said. She had never experienced Mako poisoning herself, but had seen its effects in others. It wasn't an experience she envied... but to live without needing "tune ups"... that was an appealing concept.

Alice gathered herself, still slightly unsteady on her feet as she stood, but regaining her composure quite quickly. She would take another day off tomorrow to recover: an agreement she had come to with Heidegger so as to keep her image unmarred by her weakened state during her Mako injections. It was quite amusing hearing others speculate on her mysterious absences once every two months. Those in SOLDIER suspected more accurately the cause of them, but she preferred not to disclose any specific details to anyone.

Alice readjusted the leg of her loose trousers—a nice pair of professional looking pants that flowed fashionably yet were practical for these appointments. "I refuse to believe I can't control this." Alice straightened herself again, meeting Isrieal's eyes with the intensity that always burned behind them when her determination was sparked. Isrieal's advice was not bad per se, but it left too much to the hands of fate. She didn't believe in fate. Everything was controllable if one knew how to control it.

@ofgeneticperfection

[employee052]

inspired by this post

[dimeadozencows]

[egophiliac]

bring your son to work day

[dilfmobius]