#i need a tall drink of water

[hs4whore]

you don’t understand. suzanne is finally going to encapsulate haymitch’s victory in the quarter quell and literally paint a picture of how the games turned him into a raging alcoholic for the next 25 years. you don’t understand. we are so back.

[ghuleh-recs]

one task. one single task. just the one.

vs.

my adhd.

[nellciashrinking]

⋆so, i may have discovered a new'un to stan 😍⋆

[sodrippy]

oh fuck im getting the Worlds Worst Daughter medal for 2024 my ma is texting my brother to ask if they can change their tickets to leave my place two days early. like for real.

[reireichu]

We’ll forever have the scars.

V. the last of a dying breed.

In the old country, they were once closer to kings than to men. What are kings without country though.

Jaehaerys and Alysanne managed to save the tapestries, the books, paintings and vases. Jewels and gold were useful, to spell out some wealth but to trade for brick and mortar, for the castle they now call their family home.

Their real home, Alysanne told him, it was marble floors, and with a tower that pierced into the sky. We looked over it all, and we were at the top of the world.

That was the old country, that was when they were closer to kings and one could only wish to be worthy.

So Part V took me way longer than I wanted, and probably because I think writing Daemon in this setting after having been through what he’s put himself and everyone else around him through just makes me want to scratch the skin off myself and take a shower.

There’s just so much squick.

Also, no, I geographically cannot locate ‘the old country’.

How the fuck did Daemon get a chapter in a FIC ABOUT AEGON????????

GOOD GOD I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO WRITING AEGON AGAIN.

[filet-o-feelings]

I forgot getting into this bed at my parents' house is basically an Olympic sport for someone of my height.

My parents got an alarm so I'm now locked in and can't even open a window. It's hot in here and nice outside and I just want to open a window 😭

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine ex-husband Gojo and your son, Sen, getting into the nastiest fight to date.

"Doman expansion: Infinity Castle!"

You feel yourself floating right side up, then everything shifts and you're suddenly falling upside down. You hit the tatami mats with an "oof!"

Sen's domain is a Japanese-style castle with infinite rooms he can manipulate at will. The domain is infinite and some rooms can lead to nowhere, reminiscent of Satoru's domain. When he and his best friend Naoki overlap their domains, one could find themselves isolated, battling shikigami in various parts of the castle.

Sen and Satoru land on their feet not far from you.

"Yikes," Satoru says. "Pretty crude, if you ask me."

"Good thing I'm not asking!" Sen would say, powering up his next attack. Satoru would move to counter and by now you have a headache and a bruise, and you've had it with the bickering.

"Domain--"

"Enough!" You put your hands together. "Domain expansion: Thousand Heavenly Gates"

The scene shifts and you find yourselves standing on water with a clear sky above you. One thousand torii gates stand tall all around you. Your ex and son feel the rage inside them start to fade away.

Pointing an accusing finger, you scold them, "You two are two of the strongest sorcerers who ever lived. Using your gifts to bicker with each other is some of the most blatant disregard for your stations I've ever seen! I don't want to see another domain used for this kind of stupidity again. Am I clear?"

"Yup."

"Yes, mama."

"Now," you say slowly. "When I drop this domain, you two are going to spend some civil father-son time together. Go get lunch. I don't care where, but on the way back, pick me up an ice cream. Double scoop. Satoru?"

You ex-husband grimaces and has the decency to look chastised. "Yeah, I know what flavor. That swirly one you like."

"Good. Don't come back until you've learned to play nice."

~

Imagine ex-husband Gojo picking you up from girls' night.

Sen goes back to the school dorms at night, so you figured you go out for a few drinks with your friends to catch up. Satoru heard about the event from Shoko and offered to take you home. You agreed and on the way took a detour to your favorite arcade from when you and Satoru were teens.

"Ugh! I swear these things are rigged!" you groan in frustration when the claw game drops the plushie you were aiming for.

"My turn," Satoru says. He scoots you out of the way and focuses hard on the white one-eyed cat you've been trying to get.

In the reflection of the plastic, you notice a slight glow behind Satoru's blindfold.

"No way you're using the six-eyes for this!" You whack his arm playfully, trying to stifle your laughter.

"Don't hate the player, babe, hate the game," he replies. With that, he presses the button and the claw drops. It hits the toy dead center. Closes. Lifts. The two of you hold your breaths.

And drops right into the chute.

"Yes!" you squeal while Satoru retrieves it. His face screws up in a look of contempt.

"Ew, it's even uglier up close."

You snatch it from him and hug it close to your chest. "Don't say that! He didn't mean it, Gege, don't worry."

"You named it already?"

"I named him."

"His face makes me mad for some reason."

"Your face makes me mad for many reasons."

Satoru lightly punches Gege in the face, which leads to you chasing him all the way back to the car, brandishing your new friend like a weapon.

~

Imagine ex-husband Gojo walking you to your front door.

You thank him for the ride and for taking you to that arcade. He doesn't need to know this, but being there with him made you feel like you were seventeen again.

Many things about Satoru remind you of how happy he made you. Even now.

"I'm sorry I acted like that," he says. Your reminiscing means you didn't catch the first part of his apology but you nod like you've been paying attention the whole time. "We're not together any more and I haven't been good about respecting boundaries and I'm sorry."

He blabbers on some more but all you can think about is how this whole apology is exactly the kind of communication you'd been wishing for throughout your marriage.

"So if you're seeing someone now, I get it. I mean, it doesn't matter if I get it or not because it's none of my business but--"

"Oh, shut up, Toru!" Fisting a hand in his shirt, you drag him to your level and kiss him like you’d never get to again.

~

Thanks for reading!

Click [here] for more of Sen being mean to his dad | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[glycolicacidserum]

i can't believe that people on tiktok are actually drinking one gallon (4.5L) of water every single day 💀💀💀

[ozzgin]

I was 100% thinking of the Shinsengumi when the brainrot struck, but let us assume a more generic, unnamed circumstance for this. Random, uh, elite group of swordsmen working for the shogunate in the Edo period. Here's the awkward, horny himbo I had previously mentioned. Content: female reader, historical setting, crossdressing, NSFW

Yandere!Captain commands his group with an iron grip. Many people in the Capital know his name, whether it's fellow warriors or petty merchants, and not without reason. His unmatched skill with a sword had even reached the ears of the court, and he was quickly appointed as the head of a newly formed group of samurai meant to maintain order in the city.

As if keeping hot-blooded thugs under control wasn't enough, he is now stuck with an even bigger issue: you.

"We can't have women in here", he declares with a grimace.

"I can pretend", you counter stubbornly, pulling your hakama pants up by the sash, almost in an act of defiance. "In fact, I don't see any woman here. I came to apply."

Yandere!Captain’s reputation does not only revolve around his intimidating strength. Among his underlings, he is known for being completely and utterly uninterested when it comes to women. Will he join his group for drinks after a long day of work? Absolutely. But that’s where the fun stops. When the others begin to slip away with smiling courtesans, he remains at the table with a somber countenance. It is a running joke that nothing can deter this man from his duty.

Thus, your presence at the headquarters should make no difference. He had to begrudgingly accept that you spoke the truth when you'd said you can handle a sword. It's not uncommon for women to keep a small tanto underneath their obi for additional protection, but your knowledge doesn't stop there. You arrived with your own katana and backup wakizashi, swiftly proving their worth upon your first city round when you slashed the arm off a street hooligan.

Well, that's one less worry for the captain. Except, to his great shame, it's not as simple as that. He is the only one aware of your secret, which means that he is the only one available outside of working hours. He was terrified to discover the hesitation in his hands when bandaging your ribs after a stabbing incident, or the halt in his step when he happened to find you switching to a night gown. Oh, how deplorable! Have his morals crumbled into nothing? His latest perverted thought nearly caused him to draw a blade across his stomach.

It is with this faltering confidence that he greets you before the bath one evening.

“You don’t have to do this”, you tell him. "I can wait until you're done."

His struggles haven't escaped your observant eye. You were initially amused by his rather obvious awkwardness; then, a certain idea insidiously made its way into your mind, impossibly tempting: for how long could he keep this façade?

You find yourself going out of your way just to tease your poor captain, perhaps secretly hoping he'll soon break down and give in to his yearning.

“They will become suspicious if you never join us. I do not care for your nudity. Undress at ease”, he says, throwing away his own towel and lowering himself into the hot water. “Get in whenever you want.”

If he insists.

You nonchalantly follow suit, sitting across from him with your arms resting against the rocky edge of the hot spring. You can tell his eyes have wandered involuntarily. His face is red, and he’s wearing a humiliated frown.

“You’re awfully quiet, Sir.”

His lips are pursed indeed. The tall man shuffles briefly, avoiding your gaze. A smirk crosses your features as you decide to approach him.

"In fact, I'd go as far as you say that you're in dire need of help."

To your surprise, he doesn't protest when your hands stray to his lower half, feeling up and down his erection. The small grunts escaping his mouth encourage you to pick up the pace, now equally aroused.

Soon, you feel his heavy arm wrapping around your waist, forcefully throwing you out of the water and onto the cold ground. You open your mouth to complain, but it's quickly shut back by his hot lips, suckling and biting in a desperate hunger to have you.

“It’s improper for a subordinate to take the lead”, he finally says in a low, breaking voice.

He can only hope no one else decides to use the hot springs, though that’s as far as his concern currently goes. He’s much too preoccupied with other pressing matters, holding onto your folded legs for support as he thrusts into you in a depraved, delirious need. His movements are jerky and erratic, with an almost predatory glimmer in his eyes. You wonder how often he imagined this happening. All of his shame and guilt, coming undone at once.

Days later, during one of the hangouts, you find him whispering to one of the courtesans.

“What, you suddenly have a taste for women now?” you question discreetly, unable to hold your tongue.

You’d hoped to be on the receiving end of any future lust-driven gestures from the captain, not some common worker.

He appears to hesitate, twiddling his thumbs and glancing away.

“I was just…asking how you properly please a woman”, he finally confesses.

If he’s going to continue fucking his subordinate behind everyone’s back, he may as well do a good job while at it.

[More Original Works] | [Yan!Swordsman Concept]

[rninies]

✮ pampering a giant baby - gojo satoru

synopsis: gojo satoru rarely gets sick, but when he does, he acts like a child (you don't mind that because when will you ever get the chance of taking care of gojo?)

warnings: sick gojo, fluff, gn!reader, gojo is stubborn (hates being taken care of) — wc: 528

notes: IM BACK YEAHHHHHHH im almost finished with my finals so here we are :3

“y/n, please leave.” satoru blocks the door with his tall figure, leaving you unable to enter his apartment. “i’m begging you.”

you huff, standing your ground. “i am not leaving until you let me take care of you. you’re sick, toru! your body is heating up as we speak.”

“i’m fine-” satoru lets out a cough. “seriously, just go home! i can take care of myself.” as soon as he says that, he sneezes, knees feeling weak. you quickly catch him before he falls.

“‘i’m fine’ my ass. come on, let me take care of you for once.” you mumble, helping satoru inside. you gently lay him on the couch, to which he instantly rests his head on the pillows. “i’ll go make you some porridge, yeah?”

satoru nods, too weak to speak. you instantly got to work, cooking up a porridge as quietly as possible to not disturb his rest. as soon as you finished making the porridge, you brought it over to satoru, gently waking him up. “toru, wake up. you need to eat.”

satoru reluctantly opens his eyes. “can i eat later? i feel sick.”

“you have to eat now so then you can drink some medicine. after that i promise you i’ll let you sleep as much as you want.” you softly say, helping satoru sit up. “just eat a few bites and i’ll be happy.” you hold the spoon full of warm porridge in front of him and he opens his mouth, just wide enough to eat.

after a few bites, satoru mumbles about how full he feels and you stop, quickly grabbing medicine from the drawer and a cup of water. “here. drink this and you’ll feel better.” satoru drank the medicine and you smiled. “there.”

instead of laying back down on the pillow, he lays his head on your lap. “sorry.”

you tilt your head in confusion. “hm? what are you sorry for?”

“don’t know… just feels annoying being sick.” satoru mumbles, hiding his face in your shirt. “i hate feeling like this.”

“mm, i know, baby. everyone has their sick days. you know how it is.” you say, gently caressing his head. “i don’t mind taking care of you for once, though. it’s a good change. i like it.”

“i should be taking care of you, not the other way around.” satoru complains, finally meeting your eyes. “it’s like- i don’t know. it feels weird.”

“hey, don’t feel bad. i like taking care of you, don’t worry.” you leaned down and gave satoru a quick kiss on the lips, to which he immediately covered his lips. “what?”

“i’m sick! you can’t just kiss me! what if you get sick too?” satoru’s voice is muffled behind his hands. “i don’t want you to get sick too.”

you smiled. “i won’t. trust me. now you go back to sleep and you’ll feel better in the morning because my porridge has magical healing powers.”

satoru laughs and closes his eyes, quickly falling back to sleep.

(the next day, you were woken up by a scratchy throat and blocked nose — to which satoru was delighted because he can finally take care of you).

[seventh-district]

CW: mention of death and health issues (but it’s in a relatively positive light, for once!)

[fireinmoonshot]

unpredictable (like the weather) | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader (mentions of slight Scott x Fem!Reader) Summary: When you meet Tyler Owens, you have no intention of getting to know him – you know what kind of reputation he has in town. Tyler, on the other hand, has only one plan: win you over in any way he possibly can. Warnings: Alcohol, heavy drinking/getting drunk (not the reader), mentions of being sick Word Count: 7k A/N: So, someone commented on my last longer fic, Death Wish Love, saying that Tyler reminds them of the movie The Choice (which I love), so I rewatched it the other day and this is what ended up coming out of that inspiration! I wrote it pretty much all in one day (which is kinda insane for me), but now that Twisters is out online and I rewatched it twice in two days, the desire to write for Tyler is stronger than ever. This one is a longer one, so settle in and enjoy! 💗

If someone was to ask Tyler Owens about the first time he met you, he’d say that things didn’t quite go to plan. Not that there was a plan at all, really, considering the fact that he didn’t know who was going to be on the other side of the door when he heard a knock. All he knew when he opened it was that the woman standing on the other side, holding a stack of several towels in her arms, was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

“Oh, damn, let me take those,” Tyler said, reaching out to take the towels from you. “I told the owners we’d be happy to come grab them ourselves. You didn’t have to bring them all the way up here, but it’s well appreciated.”

You shrugged a shoulder. “The owners are my parents, and there’s nothing they love more than sending their daughter to work…” You really looked at him, then. Tall, blonde… and soaked from head to toe in water. The man was literally dripping, a puddle having formed on the tiled floor at his feet. “Did one of your pipes break or something? Do you need a repairman?”

Tyler looked down at himself and laughed. “No, we uh– we were out chasin’ and we got caught in the middle of a rain storm when we jumped out of the truck to grab some footage.” He jabbed a finger over his shoulder and you spotted another man further in the room, wringing out a bright yellow t-shirt in the sink. “Weather can be pretty unpredictable.”

“Oh, you’re storm chasers?” You raised your eyebrows, seemingly intrigued. “We get a lot of those here at the motel.”

Tyler couldn’t help the grin that sprung to his face. “Yeah, I bet you do,” he hummed. “None quite like us, though.” He watched as your lips quirked up into a small smile. “So, your parents own the place? Does that mean I’ll be seeing you around more often?” 

“Maybe. If you need more towels.”

Tyler laughed and you couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling from your lips as well. He was just about to ask you for your name when Boone came up to him, grabbed a towel and said “Quit flirting and start dryin’ yourself off. You’re makin’ a mess of the place in front of the owners daughter, Ty.” 

The smile dropped from your face almost instantly and for a moment, you just looked at him without saying a word. Tyler had just started to wonder if he or Boone had said something wrong when you spoke again. 

“Are you Tyler Owens?”

Boone let out a loud whoop. “Told ya we’re gettin’ famous on Youtube, Ty! 200,000 subscribers, baby!”

“You’ve heard of me,” Tyler replied, a little cockily, ignoring Boone behind him. He was suddenly even more curious about you. You must have come across their Youtube channel – maybe you were even subscribed. He could forgive you for not recognising him at first sight. That simple fact somehow made you even more attractive to him. Maybe you were more interested in their storm chasing videos than in him… but he could change that.

“Oh, honey, that’s not a good thing.”

Tyler raised his eyebrows. “And why’s that?”

“I’ve been warned about you. By the girls at the bar in town. Ringing any bells?” You crossed your arms over your chest and suddenly Tyler was intimidated. Tyler was the type of guy who never got intimidated.

He hated that it wasn’t ringing any bells in his head. He’d gone to the local bar a fair few times over his years of storm chasing around the area. He was a flirt – that much was clear to anyone that spoke to him. But he was a gentleman as well. His mother had raised him to be.

“Please don’t take offence to this, darlin’, but I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tyler attempted, though he had a feeling you’d already made up your mind about him. 

You smiled at him, then, and Tyler knew it wasn’t a friendly smile. It was more of a how the hell don’t you know what I’m talking about smile. If that was a thing.

“Tyler Owens, the storm chasing hunk who flirts with everyone but the second things look like they might get serious, he hurries off with a tornado to chase,” you explained. “That you?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a “Hang on– no– okay, that’s not–”

Much to his dismay, you were clearly done with the conversation. “If the towels are all you need, I’ve gotta get back to work. You’re welcome to ring the office if you need anything else. Just dial 7 on the phone on the desk.”

With that, Tyler watched as you turned on your heel and walked away. He laughed to himself in disbelief at what had just happened, leaning up against the doorframe until you disappeared from view.  

“Hey, storm chasing hunk suits you, man,” Boone called from where he was towel drying his hair in the mirror. 

“Not sure if that’s the kinda reputation I’m after, Boone.” 

Tyler had learnt that day that you could also be just as unpredictable as the weather. 

~~

After your first encounter with Tyler Owens, you had been glad not to see him for a month. It’d been a relatively calm weather month, with a few storms here and there but none really amounting to anything. It was good in some ways, but not in others. Less storms meant less storm chasers staying at the motel, which meant less money. 

You’d almost found yourself wishing for more storms.

At least until you saw Tyler’s familiar red truck pulling into the parking lot on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

That day, your parents had left you in charge while they headed out to Oklahoma City to stock up on a bunch of supplies that the motel was running low on, and how typical of that to be the day Tyler Owens and the Tornado Wranglers returned after their month long absence.

You watched as Tyler walked towards the office, clearly not bothered by the drizzle of rain. It didn’t surprise you – given the fact that he’d been soaked from head to toe when you first met him and was more interested in flirting with you rather than drying off. That had told you everything you needed to know about him.

When he pulled open the door and met your eyes, he flashed you a grin. “Your favourite storm chasing hunk returns,” Tyler greeted, his tone joking. “Long time no see, hey?”

“If only it’d been longer,” you give him a small smile of your own. “And favourite is a bit of a stretch. I met you once and you think you had that much of an impression on me? Have we got some storms coming our way, then?” You attempt to change the topic.

“What if I said I was just here to see you?”

You raised your eyebrows as you looked up at him. “I’d say you’re an asshole for getting my hopes up that we might end up booked out with storm chasers for the next couple of days.”

Tyler scrunched up his nose a little. He looked cute. Even though you’d been warned to steer clear of him, you had to admit he was a good looking man. You shook the thought from your mind.

“Been slow out this way this month?” He asked.

“You have no idea.”

“Well, it’s your lucky day then. You got five rooms for us? Just for the one night for now. Gotta see what tomorrow brings,” Tyler said. 

You knew that there were five rooms for them – there were only three other guests staying in the motel at the moment and you had forty rooms, so it was an easy job to book five for Tyler and his team.

“Five rooms, huh? Not sharing anymore?”

The last time they’d stayed, you remembered that they’d only booked three rooms. The dark haired man with the moustache had been in Tyler’s room when you’d met him. 

Tyler nodded. “Yeah, our Youtube has kinda blown up a bit over the past month,” he chuckled. “We can afford separate rooms for the first time ever so we’re making the most of it.”

You made a mental note to look their Youtube channel up later. Even if Tyler wasn’t on your radar, all of his friends had seemed nice enough last time you met them, and they must have been fairly talented at what they did to have amassed such a following online.  

“Okay, so your rooms are from 201 to 205, just head up the stairs to the second level and you’ll see the numbers on the doors,” you said, grabbing the five sets of keys to the rooms and handing them to him.

He took the keys, slinging the key rings on his fingers to make them a little easier to carry. 

“I guess I’ll see you around, then?” Tyler asked, taking a step back from the counter.

You smiled at him. “Not if I can help it.”

~~

The Tornado Wranglers had stayed at your motel a few more times since the second time Tyler met you, and every time, you had reacted to him the same way. You tolerated him. No matter how much Tyler tried to win you over, flirt with you, get you to show any interest in him, it never worked. 

Tyler was nursing his sorrows with a beer, the rest of the Wranglers and a few other storm chasing groups in the parking lot of your motel when he saw you. You were tugging on a coat and heading out of the office, a set of car keys in your hands.

He’d known that you didn’t live at the motel like your parents did and had seen you arriving at the motel early in the mornings when he’d been up early during their stays in the past, but he’d never seen you when you left. 

“I’ll be right back,” Tyler said to no one in particular, putting his beer down and standing up, jogging over to where you were walking towards your car. “You heading out?”

You turned, meeting his eyes, and let out a sigh at the sight of him. “Going home, actually.”

“Why don’t you stay?” Tyler asked, nodding back to where his group was. “Have a couple of drinks with us. We don’t bite, really. You might enjoy yourself.” He was being truthful in his words. He’d decided to try a new method. No flirting, just honesty. Just trying to show you that he was interested in you without being too over the top.

For a moment, Tyler thought you might actually say yes.

“I can’t,” you shook your head. “But you guys enjoy your night, and try not to be too loud. Remember that my parents live here and they don’t wanna deal with noise complaints.”

Tyler laughed. “When have we ever been the cause of a noise complaint, darlin’?”

You laughed, too, and Tyler thought it was the most beautiful sound on earth.

“Okay, none that I’m aware of but there’s a first time for everything.”

“Exactly,” Tyler grinned. “If you’re not gonna come have some drinks with us, then what do you say to coming on a chase with us? First time for everything. Promise I won’t drive you into the middle of a tornado on your first chase.”

You raised your eyebrows. “So, you think I’m gonna say yes to a tornado chase when I won’t say yes to drinks? Tyler Owens, you are ridiculous,” you let out a breathy laugh. “And who says I haven’t chased before?”

With that, you were quick to unlock and get into your car, ending the conversation. Tyler stepped out of the way as you reversed and drove out of the motel. He sighed to himself as he walked back to the group, a small smile on his face. Had you chased before? He wanted to know everything about it, about you. Who had you chased with? When? He figured they were questions he’d never get the answers to. 

“Oh, you got it bad, Ty,” Boone said as he got back to his seat. 

“Yeah,” Tyler said, taking a swig of his beer. “Yeah, I do.”

~~

The next few times Tyler stayed at the motel, he didn’t see you. Your parents had insisted that you were all right when he’d asked, just told him that you’d ‘gotten busy all of a sudden’, and Tyler wasn’t sure what to make of that. 

It was the fourth time they’d stayed at the motel in the past month when he saw you again, and it was only when he and the other Wranglers made their way to the local bar for some drinks after a long day of failed chasing. The very bar you’d mentioned to him that he had a reputation in. 

He almost walked straight back out the door when he saw you, but Boone pulled him right back in, insisting that this was the night to show you that he was nothing like his reputation anymore. If he could win you over, tonight would be the night, Boone said. 

Boone had never been further from the truth.

It wasn’t long after they’d arrived that Tyler spotted a few members of the relatively new Storm Par team wandering into the bar, dressed in their uniforms like they were attending a meeting, not going out for drinks. He scoffed – until he saw the tall browned haired man , Scott, he thought his name was, wandering over to you, holding… holy hell, was he bringing you roses?

By the smile on your face, they were definitely for you.

Oh, Tyler felt like he could melt right into the floor. So this was why you’d never paid him any attention? This was why you’d been missing from the motel? Your parents telling him you were busy was because you were with Scott? He suddenly remembered you saying you’d been chasing before. It had to have been with Scott. 

Storm Par had begun to get in their way a lot with their chasing, and now they were getting in his way again, but with you instead. 

He watched as you took the roses from Scott’s hands and sniffed them, a smile blooming beautifully on your face as Scott took a seat beside you, resting his hand on your thigh. 

Boone, sitting beside him, muttered an “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, oh shit is right,” Lily said from the other side of Boone. “You all right over there, Ty?” 

He hadn’t realised he’d paused with his beer half way to his mouth. He cleared his throat and spun around in his chair, moving to face the bar again. The last thing he wanted to do was get caught staring at you in this bar of all places. 

“I’m fine,” Tyler lied through his teeth. “She was never interested in me anyway, and now I have a reason not to be interested in her anymore.” Or a reason to be incredibly jealous and have a few too many drinks… which is exactly what Tyler did.  

Later that night, he found himself wandering across the bar to find you. He’d watched Scott and the rest of the Storm Par team leave an hour ago and had been surprised that you’d stayed behind. 

Dani and Dexter had attempted to stop him but there was really nothing that could stop Tyler Owens when he set his mind to something. Even if, a few hours ago, Tyler had felt like giving up on winning you over was the best course of action.

But Tyler Owens didn’t give up. Not that easily, anyway. And who was he to give in to someone from Storm Par? He was Tyler Owens, a Tornado Wrangler! The fact that he was incredibly drunk never crossed his mind.

“So,” Tyler said, pulling up the seat beside you. “Scott from Storm Par took you chasin’.”

You spun to look at him, surprised by his appearance. You’d spotted him in the bar a few hours ago but had been too preoccupied at the time to think much of it. You assumed he’d left when you’d seen a few members of his team leave earlier, but apparently not.

“He did,” you nodded. “I take it you saw him and the others here earlier.” 

Tyler screwed up his nose. “But you’ve never been storm chasin’ with me.”

You looked at him, amused. He was clearly quite intoxicated. You’d never seen him like this before. Drunk Tyler Owens was quite endearing. “No, I haven’t been.”

“You should,” he said. “I think you haven’t actually been storm chasin’ for real unless you’ve been in my truck, storm chasin’ with me. And you haven’t been, so your trip with Scott doesn’t count.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. This was the man the girls at this very bar had warned you about? The one that flirted with everyone? The poor man was much too drunk to flirt with anyone right now – including you. That probably wouldn’t stop him from trying though.

“Oh, doesn’t it? Well, that’s a shame. I’ll have to tell Scott.”

Tyler shook his head. “Don’t tell your boyfriend I said that.”

“Boyfriend?” You raised your eyebrows. “Who says he’s my boyfriend?”

You saw something like hope spark in Tyler’s eyes. “Isn’t he?”

“He wishes he was,” you admitted, looking down at the roses on the table in front of you. You hadn’t expected him to give those to you, nor to make a beeline to you when they arrived at the bar tonight. Sure, Scott was cute, and he could be sweet when he wanted to be, but when you looked at him… well, that was the problem, really. When you looked at him, you just couldn’t look at him the way you should look at someone you really liked. 

Tyler stared at you for a few moments, as if in shock. “I will be right back.”

With that, Tyler jumped up from the chair and bolted straight to the mens bathroom. You watched as the man he was sitting with before, Dexter, sighed and walked into the bathroom after him. Dani, the other member of his team, wandered over to you.

“Sorry about him,” she said, nodding her head towards the bathrooms. “He usually doesn’t get that drunk. He’s much better at holding his liquor than you’d think he is.” 

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine. Will he be okay? If he doesn’t drink that much?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Dani seemed quite certain. “He’ll wallow in his self pity for a while and then he’ll be back to same ol’ Tyler. Anyway, I’m gonna go order an Uber to take us back to the motel. No way Ty’s staying here after that. See you around, yeah?”

Dani left before you had a chance to ask her what self pity he was wallowing in and by the time Tyler and Dexter came out of the bathroom, Tyler was in no state to continue a conversation with you. Dexter gave you a nod as he helped a very green looking Tyler out of the bar and probably into the Uber awaiting them outside. 

You finished off your drink and sat in silence, thinking to yourself for a while. For the first time since you’d met Tyler Owens four months ago, you were actually feeling intrigued by him.

~~

It’d been three weeks since your encounter with Tyler Owens at the bar. You hadn’t seen them the following morning, as they’d left the motel early to get chasing, according to your parents, who had taken the keys when they checked out. 

They’d been at the motel once since, and you’d been surprised at the disappointment you felt when Tyler had ignored you for the entire time. He hadn’t even said a single hello, nor come up to you and joked or flirted with you like he usually did. You had no idea if he remembered your conversation at the bar a few weeks ago, but your instinct told you that he didn’t. You couldn’t help but be curious at what had caused the switch.

It was out of that same curiosity that you typed Tornado Wranglers into Youtube and clicked on their channel, wondering if you watched some of their videos, you’d get some kind of clue as to why Tyler had changed around you. They had 500,000 followers now, and you vaguely remembered Boone mentioning they had 200,000 when you’d first met them. That was quite an impressive growth for four months, especially for something as niche as storm chasing.

You were about to start scrolling through their videos when you noticed a new one, right at the top, titled Not My First Tornadeo Live Stream. You laughed a little at the name as you clicked on it, not sure what you were exactly clicking onto. But your breath caught in your throat at the sight that greeted you when it loaded.

For the first time, you let yourself notice how attractive Tyler Owens really was.

Tyler and Boone were sat in the front seats of what you assumed was his red truck and, by the looks of it, they were driving head first into a tornado, as they seemed to do quite often judging by the thumbnails and titles of their other videos. Tyler was driving, one hand on the wheel and his other arm leaning against the arm rest.

“Looks like this is gonna be a good one, guys!” Boone cheered, turning to face the camera to the outside of the truck and showing the tornado forming in front of them. “Look at that beauty!”

You furrowed your eyebrows, watching as Boone moved, taking the camera with him and pointing it out of the passenger seat window. He then spun it again, facing it towards himself to show the upper half of his body hanging out the window. 

“Boone, get back inside,” you could barely hear Tyler’s voice through the wind on the microphone.

You were surprised when Boone listened to him, moving back inside the truck and pointing the camera at Tyler. You’d never seen them storm chasing before, but you could tell from the look on Boone’s face that Tyler wasn’t quite himself. 

“Tyler’s feeling a little out of sorts today,” Boone started. “Well, all month, actually. You need to get laid, Ty. Hell, I know it, you know it, even the tornado knows it.”

“Boone, are we live right now?” Tyler glanced at him.

“Yeah, we are, and the chat agrees,” Boone said, clearly looking at something on the screen. “Oh, hang on – I think we even have some volunteers!”

“Don’t say stuff like that. What if she’s watching?”

She? You’re suddenly intrigued. Who is this mysterious she that Tyler mentioned? He’d never mentioned anything about another woman to you – not like he would ever tell you, since he spent most of his time when he spoke to you just getting on your nerves. At least until the bar. But maybe things had changed. Maybe that’s why he’d been different. Because he had something serious with someone. 

Maybe he was no longer the storm chasing flirting hunk that he had been when you’d first met him. That’d explain why he’d stopped flirting with you and started ignoring you. Something uncomfortable settled in your stomach. 

Boone scoffed. “Ty, the day that girl watches one of our lives is gonna be the day that tornadoes miraculously decide to stop forming.” He looked at the screen. “Everyone’s asking who she is now, y’know?”

“Thank you so much for telling all–” Tyler paused to quickly glance at the screen himself, “all 284,000 people watching us right now about her.”

“You brought it up, man!” Boone replied defensively. “Hey, maybe this’ll give you more luck with the ladies and help you get over her. Guys, if anyone’s interested, we’re gonna be at–”

“Let’s focus on the tornado, Boone!” Tyler shouted, louder than you’d ever heard him before. But it did the job, bringing Boone’s focus back to the tornado in front of them as they drove closer to it.

Your mind was whirring as you watched them get closer. You were sure Tyler was right with what he’d said at the bar. Maybe you never really had been storm chasing, considering the fact that what you were watching was so different to the chase that Scott had taken you on. And Boone had said something about getting over her. Had Tyler been dating someone? Had it ended badly? 

As if on cue, your phone buzzed beside the computer, the screen lighting up with Scott’s name on it. You stared at it for a moment and then picked it up and hit answer. 

~~

“Man, you gotta tell me what the hell is going on,” Boone said, grabbing a beer out of the cooler and sitting down on the fold-up chair next to where Tyler was sitting comfortably with a beer of his own. “You’ve been in a bad mood for like a whole month. Even the chat is starting to notice when we’re live during a chase. It’s bad for business.”

Tyler sighed and took a long drink of his beer.

“It’s cause of that girl,” Dani offered from her spot in the doorway of the van. “You know, the one from that motel? Remember when we went to that bar– oh, wait, you wouldn’t remember cause you got drunk by 9 o’clock and Lily took you back to the motel.” 

Boone narrowed his eyes at her. “Yeah, I remember a bit, Dani.”

“Guys, come on,” Tyler attempted, breaking his silence. “It’s late, we’re all tired after the last couple weeks. Can we not just enjoy the quiet and relax?”

“No, man, we can’t,” Boone sat up straighter in his chair. “I’m invested now. What happened with that girl from the motel?”

Dani pointed a finger over to where the Storm Par cars were parked. A few of the members of that team were milling about, but most of them had headed upstairs already. “She’s dating Scott from the Storm Par team,” she explained. 

Tyler’s eyes narrowed in on Scott, who was pacing back and forward, holding his phone up to his ear. Was he talking to you? Listening to you, hearing your beautiful laughter on the other end of the line? On second thoughts, Tyler didn’t wanna know.

“Oh, wait – I do remember that! Didn’t he give her flowers?” Boone piped up, memories coming back from his very drunken night. Tyler was surprised he was able to remember the detail about the flowers considering how much he’d had to drink that night. 

“Yeah, he did,” Lily nodded, joining in the conversation. “And then Ty got so drunk he apparently ran out on her mid conversation so he could go and throw up in the toilet, and Dexter had to go and rescue him.” 

Tyler furrowed his eyebrows. “Mid conversation with her?” He looked between Dexter and Dani. “Was I talking to her when I was sick?”

Dexter nodded. “Yeah, we tried to stop you from going over there but it would’ve taken a tornado to hold you back from her, I think. You weren’t there for long before you made the dash to the bathroom though.”

“Yeah, but she seemed to be understanding when I talked to her about it,” Dani added.

Tyler frowned. He had no memory of that at all – what had he been talking to you about? He’d seen you from a distance the last time he’d been at your motel but he’d made a point not to speak to you because of Scott, trying to save himself the heartbreak, telling himself it was his own damn fault for liking a girl who never gave him even the slightest hint of reciprocation. He took another drink of his beer. Whatever you’d spoken about didn’t matter.

“Okay, enough about her. I’m sorry I’ve been in a bad mood, let’s just move on, all right?” Tyler raised his beer in the air. “How about a cheers to being 10,000 subscribers away from 600k?” 

~~

It didn’t take Tyler long to go back on his word about moving on. 

When they all stayed at your motel again, he had no idea that you’d been watching the livestream a few weeks ago, but what he did know was that he wasn’t going to give up so easily. He’d learnt a lot over the past few weeks of storm chasing. Especially when he saw Scott from Storm Par parked on the side of the road, yelling at one of his team members.

That enough told Tyler that he had to win you over more than ever. He just hoped that in the past few weeks since he’d last spoken to you and since he’d seen you at the bar with Scott, things hadn’t gotten so serious between the two of you that he couldn’t stop it. 

Tyler knew that you deserved someone so much better than Scott. Even if that wasn’t him, he wasn’t going to let you end up with someone like that – a man that yelled at his coworkers the way he’d seen Scott yelling at his was not a good man.

He and the team had taken their bags upstairs to their rooms after your parents checked them in and Tyler had been heading back down to the truck to grab a few things they couldn’t carry before when he spotted you. You were walking into the entrance of the hotel from the street. 

Tyler quickly forgot about getting the things out of the truck and made a beeline to you. He could tell by the look on your face that you were surprised at seeing him. Probably because he’d ignored you last time he was here – something he regretted – and here he was, walking right up to you.

“Tyler,” you greeted him with a nod of his head and made an attempt to side-step around him, but he was quick enough to step in your way, making it so you couldn’t pass him. You looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “Have you remembered I exist this visit?”

“Listen, about that–”

“Oh, you’re actually talking to me now?”

Tyler huffed. “Yeah, I am talking to you now.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to win you over. Like I’ve been trying to do for the past six months.”

“Six months? Tyler, why are you so intent on winning me over?”

Tyler took a deep breath and then spoke. “Because I like you. I have ever since I first met you. And I cannot stand the idea of you being with someone like Scott, so if you’ll just listen to me for a second–”

“Scott?” You cut him off. “You don’t remember that conversation at the bar, do you?”

He paused. “Do you not remember how drunk I was?”

You laughed to yourself. “Well, yes. I do remember you being so drunk you had to run off to the bathroom, you were slurring all your words and you called Scott my boyfriend. I told you that he wasn’t. He still isn’t, and he never will be.” 

Scott had called you that day you were watching the livestream to tell you that he wasn’t sure he could put as much time into a relationship with you as he put into his job and chasing. It had been a weight off your chest – one you didn’t even realise you had there.

The look on Tyler’s face almost made you laugh again. He looked completely flabbergasted.   You reached up and gently patted his shoulder in slight pity before stepping around him and heading towards the office. Your parents had given you a break, which you’d used to go for a walk and stretch your legs, and they were likely awaiting your return.

Tyler stood in shock for a few moments, but it only took him a second longer to come to his senses. He turned around and called your name, making you turn back to face him. There was a look of amusement on your face. 

“Yes, Tyler?” 

“Go on a date with me,” Tyler said, the words accidentally being more of an order and less of a question. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I mean – will you go on a date with me?”

That was really not very gentlemanly of him at all. 

 “I thought you usually run away and chase tornadoes before it can get serious with girls.”

Tyler shrugged his shoulders. “Thought I’d change it up a bit and chase you instead.” He paused and then laughed. “Okay, that sounded way more creepy than I intended it to sound. Don’t take that too seriously, darlin’.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him and the sound of his laughter.  Despite the fact that you had spent the last few months doing nothing but tolerating Tyler Owens, you relented. What could it hurt, anyway? It wasn’t him flirting with you at a bar and running off before things got serious. Besides, you had a feeling you might have judged him a little too harshly based on his reputation at first. “Fine. One date.”

“How does tomorrow night sound?”

“You sure you can fit me into your tornado chasing schedule?” 

“Yeah, I’ll pass on a message to the tornados not to happen tomorrow night.”

When Tyler headed back upstairs later that night, he found Boone sitting in his room. He looked at him expectantly as Tyler closed the door behind him. “So, how did it go, man?”

Tyler found it impossible to keep the smile off of his face. “That Storm Par asshole is out of the picture, and I have a date scheduled for tomorrow night.”

~~

For the first time in a long time, Tyler Owens had forgotten to check the weather before leaving the motel. But somehow, it had worked out in his favour. His plans of a romantic sunset picnic were going perfectly. The sky was coloured in bright oranges and pinks. It was the perfect backdrop for your first date. 

Tyler opened up the picnic basket from its spot on the picnic blanket underneath you and passed you a sandwich. You were sat just to the right of him, your eyes fixed on the sunset. 

“Did my mother make this?” You asked, looking down at the sandwich.

He grinned. “I may have enlisted her help. Y’know, she told me that she prefers me to ‘that other boy she’s been seeing’. Says I have more of a country boy spirit to me, that the other one seemed too much like a city kid.” 

You snorted. “I mean, she’s not wrong there. When Scott took me chasing, he specifically made sure we stayed out of the hail and he was very proactive with making sure I always had my window wound up so no water got inside the car.”

If Tyler had been drinking, he was pretty certain he would have spat it all back out. “And you seriously went out with that asshole?” He shook his head. “You’ve seen the greener side of the grass now that you’re here with me, though, haven’t you?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Hmm, it’s not that much greener…”

Tyler gave you a look that made you laugh. 

“No, but seriously. Your storm chasing looks much more adventurous than Scott’s. A hell of a lot scarier, as well. You won’t catch me hanging out the side of your truck just to get a good video of it, that’s for sure,” you grinned. 

He looked at you for a moment, eyebrows furrowed. “You’ve seen our videos?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, taking a small bite of the sandwich finally. “I watched a little bit of one of your live streams a little while ago. Boone was hanging out the side of your car and was saying something about you needing to get laid.”

Tyler flushed. Oh, no. Out of all of the live streams you could have caught and you’d watched that one? The one where Boone had said tornadoes would be more likely to stop forming all together rather than you watching their videos? “Okay, I’m gonna need you to wipe that whole experience from your brain for me, okay darlin’?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at him, shaking your head at his pink tinged cheeks. He was embarrassed. At this point, you honestly weren’t sure that Tyler Owens even knew how to feel embarrassed. But apparently, he could.

“Only if you tell me one thing in return, cowboy.”

“Deal.”

“Why were you so intent on winning me over? And don’t say it’s just because you like me.”

Tyler sighed and leant back on his hands, staring up at the sky which had dulled a little in colour but was still beautiful. “Well, you know that when we first met each other, I liked you straight away. I was flirting with you from the get-go. I think at first it started out as a little bit of a challenge for me. I’m not really used to girls not liking me – and I know that sounds cocky as hell, and it is, but that’s just the truth,” he admitted. “But there was always just something about you that made me wanna get to know you better. And I don’t give up once I set my mind to something, which is why we’re sitting here right now.”

You honestly felt flattered by his words. Amused, too, about his admission that he wasn’t used to girls not being interested in him. But mostly flattered. 

“Now you tell me why you said yes to this date,” Tyler said.

There was no point lying or trying to come up with any other answer other than the truth. You also didn’t want to lie to him. He’d been completely honest with you. He deserved the same from you.

“When we first met, I really didn’t like you. I think I made that pretty clear. I wasn’t interested in being just another girl who got flirted with and then abandoned. But I think that night at the bar, the one you don’t remember, was what made me interested in you. It was the first time I’ve seen you completely honest. You weren’t just trying to flirt with me or mess with me. And then you ignored me the next time you saw me.”

“I said I’m sorry about that!”

“I know,” you smiled. “But I just think I said yes because I figured, what the hell? Things with Scott and I were never gonna work out, I was getting jealous over you mentioning your ex on a live stream. If that isn’t a sure sign I like you at least enough to say yes to a date, I don’t know what is.”

Tyler sat up straighter. “Mentioning my ex on a live stream?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Boone was talking about you getting over someone. You don’t remember? It was the same one where he hung out the window. I only watched the one.”

“Darlin’, that wasn’t about an ex.”

“No?”

“It was about me trying to get over you.”

You stared at him for a moment and then burst into laughter, completely unable to stop yourself. Tyler couldn’t help but laugh as well. The amount of miscommunication between the two of you simply because you didn’t communicate was ridiculous. 

Both of you had been so busy in your conversation and laughter that neither of you had realised that the sunset had disappeared, replaced with dark clouds. It wasn’t until rain started falling that you both stopped laughing and looked up to the sky.

“Shit, we need to get the stuff back to the truck!” Tyler was quick to jump up, scooping things back into the picnic basket while you grabbed the blanket and rolled it up in your arms. 

You both laughed as you ran back to the truck, luckily parked not far away, and shoved the basket and blanket on the back seat. But the rain had intensified so much in the short amount of time that you were both already soaked to the bone by the time you’d gotten to the car.

“We could really use some of those motel towels right now, huh?” You said.

Tyler looked at you and laughed again. There was no rush from either of you to get back into the truck as you stood side by side beside it, looking into each others eyes as the rain pummelled down. 

He couldn’t believe he was here right now with you. Standing in the rain, on a date. He’d forgotten to check the weather for the first time in a long time. But he’d known all along just how unpredictable the weather could be. Just like you could be. And just like he could be, too.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, voice loud enough to be heard against the sound of the rain and thunder that had just appeared overhead. 

He watched as your lips quirked up into a smile. “Yes,” you nodded in reply.

Tyler wasted no time in placing his hands on your waist and bringing his lips to yours. He’d never kissed anyone in the rain before, and while it was a memorable experience, it wasn’t entirely pleasant, especially due to the rain getting heavier and heavier by the second, but none of that bothered him because he was kissing you. Because it was your lips moving against his, your hands running through his hair, your body pressed up against his. 

When you broke apart for air, Tyler rested his forehead against yours.

“So, did I win you over?”

“Hmm,” you smiled. “Maybe if you bring me some towels…” 

Tyler let out a laugh and leant in to peck your lips again. “Comin’ right up, darlin’.”

[benevolentbones]

beach day | spencer reid x fem!reader part 2

part 1

warnings: heated kissing!!! slightly suggestive.

word count: 1.2k

a/n: here is part 2!! hope you all enjoy, thank you for the support and 200+ followers!! reblogs & comments appreciated !!

the sun was at its highest point, casting burning rays down onto the white sand. you and garcia were splashing around, emily and jj had run off to look for seashells and derek was building a mega sandcastle with jack while hotch and spencer were sat by everyone’s bags.

“i’m getting a little cold now y/n, im getting out to warm up.” garcia announced as she began to wade back out of the water, you decided that it would probably be a good idea to take a break maybe get a drink to rehydrate, so you followed the blonde back to the towels.

“honestly hotch the water is perfect are you sure you don’t want to come for a swim?” you grinned as you walked back.

“i think i’m good here.” he mumbled, smoothing down the hawaiian print shirt that adorned his tall figure.

“well in that case- lets get ice cream.” penelope chirped, as he dried herself off putting on a violently floral beach coverup over her swimsuit.

“ice cream!” jack came running back, practically leaping onto his dad, covering them both in sand.

“well that’s one way to summon a five year old.” you laughed.

hotch sent you a joking glare before picking jack up. “yeah lets get some ice cream.” he agreed passively.

“morgan, ice cream lets go hotch is buying!” penelope yelled to derek who was now two feet deep in a hole he was digging.

“wh- i never said…fine.” hotch shook his head in disapproval as he walked away, jack still in his arms, with penelope and derek in tow.

“get me my favourite!” you yelled out as they left, earning a dismissive wave from hotch.

you turned to face spencer, who had now picked up your towel and was using it to block his legs from the sun. his face was buried in his book, with only a few pages remaining.

“can i use my towel, spence.” you smiled sweetly once his doe eyes met yours.

your two piece clung to your body, saturated in sea water. little droplets of water trickled down your bare skin, spencer’s intense stare watching as they connected to each other and fell from your figure.

he cleared his throat before speaking, “i-uh yeah here.” he quickly pass your towel to you, your finger briefly skimming over his causing heat to rise in your cheeks.

you towel dried your hair, wringing your salty locks out.

spencer closed his book, setting it down on the blue cooler to his right. he eyed you, as you began to pat your torso dry, wrapping the towel around yourself, over your two piece, like you had just stepped out of the shower.

“when did you last put suncream on?” you questioned, flicking your hair off of your shoulders.

“i don’t know- maybe four hours ago.” spencer pondered.

you gasped loudly in a playful manner, immediately diving into your beach bag and pulling out your trusted factor 30 suncream.

“i- y/n i think i’m fine.”

“you’re supposed to reapply every two hours- you should know this.” you muttered, shuffling towards spencer’s seated figure.

spencer let out a small groan, although secretly he thought it was cute how concerned you were.

“stand up please.”

“i’m not moving.” a smug smile resting on his face, he wanted to test how serious you were about the application of suncream, surely you’d give up.

you let out a prolonged exhale, dispensing suncream onto your hand.

“you gave me no choice!” you exclaimed, climbing onto the beach chair. spencer’s eyes widened as you practically straddled the man, one leg resting over either side of his lap.

you pushed back his hair with one hand, gently applying the cream to his face with the other. his face burning at your close proximity, he was staring directly and your towel clad form.

once you finished applying it to his face, you reached for the bottle again, you moved down to his neck, then to his arms. at this stage spencer was compliant, doing whatever you needed of him.

“give me your arm.” you muttered, taking his forearm and rubbing in the cream on any visible skin. spencer stirred as you shifted your weight to one side, getting comfortable on his lap.

spencer knew you were a confident person, it reflected in your work on the field, but he never expected you to go this far.

“i know you’re enjoying this.” you joked, your small laugh ringing in his ears.

“s-shut up. i say you couldn’t wait to get your hands on me.” he rebutted your remark, and now it was your turn for your face to flush.

“so what if i did…” you mumbled, taking his other arm in your hand. spencer’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to read your expression, he wasn’t certain if you meant it. so he decided to find out.

“is that why you wanted my hands all over you?” he questioned. it was a bold move, even for spencer, he couldn’t quite believe those words came from him.

this caught you off guard, you dropped spencer’s arm and stared at him, his hazel eyes stared back with intensity.

“and what if i said yes, dr.reid?” you replied, chewing your bottom lip waiting for his reply.

spencer lifted his dominant hand, slipping it under your towel to rest on your waist. you breath hitched in your throat as his warm hand came in contact with your chilled skin.

“maybe you need a top up.” he mumbled, his grasp on you not faltering.

you studied him, the fresh layer of suncream on his facing causing his skin to glow from the few rays of sun that managed to shine through the gaps of the umbrella.

your hold on the bottle of suncream loosened causing it to fall into the sand below. you brought your right hand up to his face, resting it against jaw as you smoothed your thumb over cheek.

he gave you a small smile, embracing your hold. you reluctantly leaned closer, shifting your position on him. spencer could tell what you were doing, quickly closing the gap between you and pressing his lips to yours.

it was gentle at first, a soft brush that sent shivers down spencer’s spine. you immediately brought your other hand up, running in through his hair. spencer’s grip on your waist tightened, as he brought his other to rest on your thigh.

you shuddered at his touch, your beach towel slipping away from your torso and pooling by your hips. spencer deepened the kiss, as you leaned forward, pressing your body against his. you kissed back hungrily, trailing your hands to cup his face.

spencer pulled away, taking in your features. your eyelids were heavy, your lips slightly swollen. a grin spread across his face as you leaned back in pressing a kiss to your jaw, then to below your ear.

“spence?-“ you breathed out, resting your arms around his shoulders as he continued peppering kisses along your neck before returning to your lips. spencer had wanted to kiss you for months, and now it was finally happening, he wanted to savour every moment.

his lips were soft, his kiss much more tentative this time, spencer’s hands tracing over your figure.

you both pulled back to gaze at one another, heavy breaths slipping from your lips. you could practically feel the heat radiating off of spencer. you both sat for a moment, in silence, taking in what had just happened.

“will you go for a swim with me now?” you questioned.

“i think i’ll need to after that..”

taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea

[hannieehaee]

Hi!! Could you do a fic where Jeonghan is being the menace that he is, but his partner is the only one who can quell him with one look pls? Like he is just super soft w her and always listens cos he’s a simp?

content: simp!jeonghan, established relationship, afab reader, slightly suggestive, etc.

wc: 1156

a/n: this was based on that one scene from nana tour in which jeonghan basically waterboarded mingyu for absolutely no reason (ik he was on a mission but he drenched him ?!\>\£). hope u enjoy <3

masterlist

jeonghan was always known to be a bit of a menace by all his friends.

well, maybe even more than just his friends. after all, there was a reason why he was often called the loki of seventeen by many of his fans.

he was simply a bit unconventional in the ways in which he found entertainment, such as the time in which he berated dokyeom into searching for bugs for them to eat on the streets. he simply had a tendency for bugging his members (out of love, of course), becoming an extra obstacle in their lives just for the fun of it.

now, jeonghan also had a heart of gold and far too much love for his brothers to ever actually cause any harm to them. however, after over a decade of knowing his brothers, he had somehow conditioned them to accept his odd behaviors and simply go along with his shenanigans whenever he felt like acting up.

you, as well as his members, always found great entertainment in his weird behaviors. i mean, it takes a great man to be able to cheat his way through every single game without consequence.

despite finding humor in his ways, you would sometimes have a tendency to put a halt to it. a simple whine of 'hannie!' would have him stopping in his tracks and murmuring against your ear as he whined back but relented at you. what you didn't know, however, was that you were the only person who held this power over jeonghan (even his sister would occasionally fall victim to his menacing ways).

today was one of the many instances in which jeonghan grew bored while at practice, deiciding to wreck havoc just for the hell of it. it was easy for him to spot a victim, – it was usually mingyu – which then lead him to approach him with the illest of intentions. there was never much thinking that went into teasing his members. it was just second nature to him by now. so when he eyed the water bottle in mingyu's hand, even the other members who were standing nearby could see what jeonghan's next move would be.

he was patient with it; engaging in conversation as he usually would as to not draw suspicion. jeonghan realized in that moment that maybe his instincive need to bug mingyu for no reason might be something to look into, but that would come some other day. for now, he wanted a quick laugh.

jeonghan saw his opening the moment mingyu uncapped his bottle and brought it to his lips, taking advantage of his calculated proximity to tilt the end of the bottle in order to drench mingyu's face, causing the man to almost choke on the water he'd been drinking.

as expected, this began a mini war between the two boys, as five minutes later they were both attacking each other with any and every water bottle they could find in their vicinity, even going as far as causing collateral damage to a few of the other members. what jeonghan hadnt planned, however, was a sudden visit from you, who had walked in just as jeonghan squirted yet another water bottle directly at mingyu's face.

"jeonghan!", you scolded as soon as you were in earshot, "leave him alone, you got him all drenched!", you were now standing next to the group, frown on your face as you took in the scene.

"baby? what are you doing here? did you–"

"don't 'baby' me. why are you bugging mingyu again? look at him! he's completely wet."

"i got water in my eye!," whined the tall man, taking advantage of your defense for him.

by now, a few of the members nearby were snickering at the swift turn of events, entertained by not just the water fight but the way in which you immediately sided with mingyu rather than your boyfriend.

"i'm wet too! how do you know he didn't start it?", tried jeonghan, knowing full well that the idea was unconvincing.

"hannie, don't lie to me."

"okay, fine. i got bored, okay? it's just water, baby. it's fine. right, mingyu?"

"dude, you fucked up my hair," mingyu didnt seem truly offended, but more so wanting to feed the flames now that he had an opportunity. jeonghan could tell by the slight smirk on his face.

the frown remained on your face, continuing to come in mingyu's defense for some reason unknown to jeonghan.

"jeonghan, apologize to him."

"what?", his wide and incredulous eyes turned to look at you, ignoring the snort he was pretty sure seungkwan had just let out.

"you heard me."

"but–"

"hannie!"

"f– fine," like a petulant child, jeonghan turned to mingyu and gave him a forced smile, "i'm sorry for getting you wet, gyu."

"than–"

"thank you", you interrupted the man.

jeonghan couldnt help but feel scolded by you. it was rare that you actually ever went against his shenanigans, but he did know he could sometimes go a little extra hard on mingyu due to mingyu's disposition to put up with jeonghan with no complaint (usually even fighting back). he was a bit embarrassed by the way in which you sided with him and even berated him in front of his members, but he also knew he could never say no to you, so apologizing just seemed logical to him.

after a few moments of him whining at his members to mind their business and go get their own girlfriends, he dragged you away to a less polluted corner of the practice room to get some one-on-one with you.

"babyyyy," he immediately pouted at you, proceeding to attaching to you like a bear, burying his head into your neck.

"hannie, you're all wet!", you complained despite making no move to push him away, even wrapping your arm around him and running a hand through his damp hair.

"why'd you have to do that? the boys are supposed to think you're obsessed with me," he frowned against your neck.

despite the whine behind his words, you could feel the vibration of his giggles against you and the smile pressed against your neck. as per usual, he was just whining because he could; something which you always found an endearing result to any rare instance in which you'd scold him.

"they're all gonna think im a simp now," he continued.

you giggled at that, causing him to sway you back and forth as he buried himself even deeper against you.

"are you not?", you inquired.

"i am, but they dont need to know that!"

"you're so annoying ..."

"yeah, but you find it fun, don't you?"

"im not at liberty of releasing that information."

he laughed against your neck, reaffirming to himself how much he liked the back and forth between the two of you, even if it meant relenting to you every single time, earning himself the title of simp among his members.

[call-sign-shark]

Of Bending and Breaking || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Always being the one who cares for others comes with a price: you break down, but the most unexpected person is here for you: Tommy, the man you were forced to marry.

Words: 2,3k

TW: Hurt/Comfort, very tiny mention of past sexual assault, no proofreading 'cause it comes from clearing my drafts.

Notes: Aunt Isabella's is a tribute to my own aunt Isabelle who, unfortunately, died because of cancer a few years ago.

It all started with Polly shaking Tommy like a tree, her thin hands firmly grabbing his nephew’s broad shoulders: “You can’t keep sabotaging yourself like this, Tom.” These were the words that left her quivering lips as she dragged his staggering frame to the bathroom and pushed his face into the bathtub right under the tap. When the freezing water splashed all over his neck, Tommy opened his blank eyes wide and inhaled sharply, as if he had suddenly come back to life. Since Grace’s awful death, the gangster was the shadow of his former self. When he wasn’t waging a senseless war with Father Hughes and the Italian, or when he wasn’t keeping his buzzing mind busy with work, Tommy usually numbed himself with a deadly combination of whisky and opium until his deep-seated pain became bearable. It was the night he almost overdosed that Polly decided to take charge of his nephew and found him a new wife, in the hope of soothing his nephew’s mind and finding a mother figure for poor little Charlie. The idea had obviously sent Tommy in a fit of anger but Polly Gray couldn’t care less.

Regarding your own situation, it was not the opium nor the loss of a dear lover that had led you to Birmingham’s most dangerous man but rather the bump in your belly. Aunt Isabella had understood what you were suffering from the moment you had stormed out of the vardo to throw up your breakfast in the nearest bush. The tall and lean woman, whose light brown and curly mane danced in the cold autumn wind, had looked at you right in the eyes and raised one of her thin eyebrows. If there was something pleasant with her, it was that words weren’t necessary.

Yet, later she encountered Polly, with whom she had been a great friend since childhood, and explained that a powerful American man had forced his seeds in you during his stay in England. Not willing to go through the traumatic experience of aborting, Isabella only saw one solution to your problem: you needed a husband who could protect you and your future baby from the evil man with his scarred lip. A wedding would be your salvation. At the realization of what Aunt Isabella had planned for you, you tried to run away from the camp in the middle of the night but she knew you too well and soon caught you, her sly hand firmly grabbing your wrist: “Y/N! It’s for your sake! He’s rich, he needs a wife and he is feared! You’ll be safe with him, don’t you understand?” She explained, cupping your face with her long fingers adorned with claws painted in red and far too many rings. “I don’t need a man to protect me! I don’t need anyone. He’s older and he’s a criminal! Who’s going to protect me from him eh? Have you think ‘bout that?” You cried, the soft light of the sunrise turning your tears into liquid gold.

But still, you wedded him and what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life turned out to be a dull event during which you dissociated the whole time. The only memories you had in mind were two piercing and frightening turquoise eyes staring right at your soul and soft whiskey-tasting lips stealing a quick peck from your cherry lips. A kiss devoid of any form of affection. And then, the groom left.

From what Aunt Isabella told you, your husband had spent most of the celebrations with his brothers, drinking and taking bets outside of Arrow House. Months had passed and still, you felt estranged to this place and its staff. The only moments your heart lightened were when Aunt Isabella visited you, or when Charlie spent time with you, otherwise you remained emotionally closed, trapped in your own mind. Overall you could not complain: You had a house far too big for you with plenty of workers willing to exhaust every one of your wishes. Charlie was a sweet boy, who loved you with all his heart even if you were well aware that you’ll never replace his mother. As for the Shelby clan, they were cordial with you without being really friendly either. And there was Tommy…

Cold and distant Tommy, who you only saw late at night when he discretely slipped under the bedsheet and turned his back to you without uttering a single word. Busy Tommy, whose replies remained concise and spoken with a quiet husky voice each time you asked him something — at least he talked to you a little bit. Trapped in a loveless marriage, that was what you were: Tommy was more a stranger, a mere gust of wind in your life, than the love of your life.

Still, the gangster stayed true to his words and he provided for everything, never refusing to give you money when you asked, and protecting you from the man who had taken your innocence. He even gifted you a wonderful stallion because he knew how much you missed riding. In exchange for his protection and riches, all you had to do was take care of Charlie and do your best to be there for your husband when his darkness threatened to swallow him whole.

You found out about the nightmares shortly after your wedding and quickly decided to do something about it. When he woke up screaming and drenched in sweat after tasting the tunnels’ dirt and Grace’s crimson blood in his troubled sleep, you always cradle him, your fingers losing themselves in his wet dark hair to pet his head gently. At first, you feared his reaction, expecting the infamous Tommy Shelby to push you and not-so-kindly ask you to keep your distance but, to your greatest surprise, he never did. Instead, he would bury his face in your cleavage, panting and trembling, and let you reassure him. Just like he let you bring dinner to him each time he drowned himself in paperwork and forgot to eat. He never commented on your cooking skills though, even if he always handed back empty plates.

The blood on his skin? You cleaned it.

The wounds of his flesh? You never failed to patched them up.

The hole in his heart? You tried to seal it off with caresses, soft kisses, and shoulder massages. Maybe one day he would slowly turn his iciness into affection. Little did you know that he needed it. And by it he needed you. Just like the whole family. How many times did you walk the streets of Birmingham at night, seeking for Arthur and then bringing him home to take care of a wasted and high him? Far too many to keep track. Similarly, you had spent countless evenings helping Ada when she felt overwhelmed, either nursing Karl or cleaning her house when, just like her brother, she overworked herself. And finally, Polly could never thank you enough for everything you did to soothe her mind after the gallows, still haunted by the bite of the hanging rope on her throat.

“Thanks Poppy.” Arthur muttered, the gravel in his voice coated with shame now that you were down clearing and disinfecting his split knuckles. The oldest brother had started to affectionately call you so for the sole reason that, according to him, you must probably grow better when blood was considering how much you had seen when patching the Shelby siblings. “Sorry for errr… For the mess.” He went on, his steel blue eyes fleeing yours.

“That’s okay.” You replied in Romani, “You, sweet idiot.” Endeared by how surprisingly soft Arthur’s harsh complexions could turn, you couldn’t help but gently put your hand on one of his cheeks. And during this tender display of affection, Arthur was convinced he had caught sight of a smile — a scarce event barely happening on your beautiful but resigned face. Comforted by the warmth of your palm, he leaned into your touch and looked at you through dark lashes, his lids half-closed.

“Tommy’s one lucky bastard to have ya for himself, eh."

"Let's both flee together then." You teased, the familiar tone of Romani language rendered even more melodious by your siren-like voice.

"Don't tempt me, little one." Arthur replied, softer than intended and probably only half-joking.

The oldest Shelby brother had barely closed the door when your smile disappeared and tears flooded your eyes. Admittedly, spending months of repressing your own anguish didn’t do any good to you despite thinking that focusing on others would have helped. Quite the contrary, all those negative emotions you had left on the back burner turned into a silent and deadly parasite that was eating you up. Dragging your tired frame to the cold and empty marital bedroom, you curled up in a ball in a corner of the room, your bruised knees pressed against your chest, “Positive. You gotta stay positive and push forwards y’see Y/N? Do the right things for the family…” You whispered to yourself as your breath started to quicken for the ball of sorrow in your throat was growing more and more. Yes, you had to smile and say that all was just fine because you knew you were lucky to be here and that you hadn’t any real reason to complain now according to the rest of the world. And yet, the truth was you were tired. So tired and overwhelmed by everything around you. With your wild soul trapped here in the mighty walls of Arrow House, you could not help but drown in an excruciating feeling of worthlessness.

You were lost in a world too difficult for you to understand. Lost and unprepared for a life that asked for too much. When you were living in the vardo with Aunt Isabella life seemed so much easier despite the lack of money and, sometimes, food. Prior to your wedding, she used to tell you that everything would become clear once you’d be a wife and a mother. You’d be an adult adult, you see? But she lied. They all lied. Even with a husband and kids, you still felt like a scared and confused child, who wanted to hide under the blanket of her warm bed and never face the world ever again. These concerns of yours? You never shared because you wanted the Shelby to keep seeing you as a reassuring presence— moreover, God knew how much their broken hearts needed your silent care.

Bringing your trembling fingers to your mouth, you muffled a first sob, convinced it would be enough to keep you from crying. What you didn’t expect was to burst into tears, uncontrollably weeping. After all this time forcing yourself to be strong, your mind had enough. As your heart-wrenching cries echoed in the room they muffled Tommy’s footsteps that were coming closer and closer. When the door flung open, you did not even move, lost in a spiral of pain and psychological exhaustion.

“Y/N?!” Tommy called you, his usual coldness swept away by a surge of panic. He closed the distance between you and him with hastened steps, and put one of his knees on the floor to be at your level, “What’s wrong, ay?” His husky voice asked, worries thickening his Brummie accent even more. You hiccuped and raised your flooded eyes towards him, parting your lips to answer. Yet, as soon as your gaze met his turquoise iris you started weeping again, louder this time. Words were at a loss by dint of never having the chance to express what you felt throughout your life. “Bloody Hell, Y/N! Speak!” Tommy hissed, his heart now drumming in his chest at the sight of his young and always-so-strong wife crumbling in bits in front of him. Never in his life, he had felt so powerless, not even in the tunnels… And, God, he hated it.

“N-nothing. I don’t… I don’t even know it’s just that— I’m so fucking tired, and lost, and confused, and afraid!” You spoke with a very fast pace, spitting years and years of repressed emotions flowing from you all the while feeling deeply ashamed of your mental breakdown. When you were done venting, you simply turned your head and waved off the topic, tears still rolling down your reddened cheeks “Anyway! You’ve got — more important things to do.”

“Stop it, Y/N,” He scolded, low voice rumbling in his chest. His strong and calloused hands, damaged by the war and hard work, cupped your face with a softness you didn’t know he possessed. For the first time in your life, his grip felt utterly reassuring as if you knew these scarred palms were not going to let you fall apart. Never. “You’re what’s important right now.” With that being said, Tommy leaned his forehead against yours and his enchanting eyes soon met yours to force you to focus on nothing else but the vast blue oceans which composed them. “I want you to calm down.”

“I can’t, I can’t—“ You tried to speak but you couldn’t, struggling to breathe under the crushing weight of your panic attack. Your mouth gaped, looking for the oxygen it couldn’t find.

“Oi!” Tommy said louder. So loud that his voice managed to overcome the cacophony of your beating heart and the buzzing sound of your anxiety that filled your head, “I want you to breathe with me, Y/N. Alright? You can do that for me, ay?” He asked, his eyebrows slightly frowned and charming crowfeet appearing at the corner of his eyes — how odd it was to see Tommy’s face veiled with something else than unsettling placidity. Caught off guard by the sudden realization of how close he was, you quieted down a little bit and soon followed the pattern of his breathing.

One long inhale through the nose, one longer exhale through the mouth, and a short pose.

Do it again.

Your shaky hands slowly grabbed his wrists in a desperate attempt to anchor you to reality. This, as well as the focus you had on his mesmerizing complexions.

His long dark lashes — you inhaled slowly.

His cat-like turquoise iris — you exhaled.

His salient cheekbones — You stopped breathing for a very short while.

The myriad of freckles — “Breathe with me, Y/N.”

The soft, hoarse lilt guided you through the dark and thick fog of your own brain, just like a lighthouse. Coming back to clearer waters, your body finally relaxed and fell almost limp in his arms. And once again he caught you, keeping you all safe against his chest. Tommy’s voice, low and steady, resonated one last time in the bedroom with a reassuring warmth as he uttered the simple yet powerful phrase, "I'm here." Each word carefully enunciated, carrying a quiet strength that soothed and reassured, like a comforting anchor in a stormy sea.

Keep your writers motivated: Reblog and/or comment if you liked it, you filthy animal! o/ English is not my first language btw.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @red-riding-wood

[peachesofteal]

Cool girl

ghoap x female reader / 18+ warning: the boys are foul - could be considered dub con / part one / part two

Two (three) can play at that game.

"When you're done being a brat, call us."

You decide within a week, that you're very much not done being a brat.

And you're very much done with them.

Fuck them, you coach yourself in the mirror as you fix your makeup. Fuck them both. And her, whoever she is, though you know she doesn't deserve your wrath. She probably has no idea the tangled web she's walked into, she's the one stuck in the trap, now.

The doorbell rings, and you check your reflection one more time, satisfied with your dress, the way it gathers across your breasts, how it flatters your shape. It's a tad short, there's a bit of cleavage, little pieces that make it more than perfect. Something about this style, the way it fits, always drove the boys nuts, so it should be more than good enough for your date.

Fuck them.

You bring him to the dive. It's a safe choice, the bartender knows you, pays attention. You feel safe here, familiar. It's a great option for a first date.

And because you're a cool girl, you don't know how to play pool.

Of course, he's happy to teach you.

You start with a tequila. It scalds on the way down and settles like fire, but it takes the edge off. One turns to two, and it's enough to get you closer, allowing him to rest his hand on your knee at the bar, allowing him to keep a hand at the small of your back as he guides you to the finally empty pool table.

He's handsy, and normally, you'd be a little put off.

But not tonight.

"Okay, it's simple. You use the white ball to break." He lines up your shot for you, folding you into place, bending forward, hand brushing against your thigh as he leans beside you.

You intentionally short the shot, barely breaking the triangle of balls free. He chuckles. "Not bad for a first go."

"What do I get if I win?" Your smile is shy, and it's only half forced. You do like this guy, he's very nice, very attractive. Tall with a strong jawline, kind eyes. His fingers find yours, and his touch is gentle, patient.

"A kiss?" He ventures, testing the waters. You nod.

"Sure thing."

You're halfway through the game when the energy in the bar shifts. It's like everyone freezes, a collective whoosh of air washing through the bodies hunched over at the bar, loitering on the walls, perched on the wrought iron chairs out back.

The regulars look at one another and then return to studying the TV, or each other, their half empty drinks.

You don't need to look, to know.

You can feel them.

Apparently, so can your date.

"Don't look, but there are two guys staring at you, across the bar." You bat your eyelashes.

"Who?" It's innocent, this kind of play. Playing dumb. It's pure, until your chin turns over your shoulder and find them, white knuckled and focused, Johnny alight with anger, Simon stoic as ever. Sadness, and rage, roar inside your head, and you force yourself to look them in their eyes. Force yourself to be brave.

After a second, you turn away and into your date. He pulls you closer, palm resting on your lower back, mouth dangerously close above your ear. "Are they bothering you?" What a nice guy.

"No." You assuage immediately. You know what would happen, if he tried to be your knight in shining armor. You know how it would end.

With blood. Broken bones. And tears.

"Let's keep playing." You suggest. "Will you show me how to hold the stick?" Your teeth hold onto the last syllable, hand wrapping around the polished length of the wood, slowly moving it up and down. Your heart pounds, but a thrill rushes through you at the same time. Fuck them. Your date raises an eyebrow, mouth cocking into a sly smile, and nods.

After your third drink, you can't delay using the bathroom anymore. Skin tingling from all the places his hands have traversed, you're dizzy with the pulse of power, the high of your performance. It's wrong, and twisted but...

they deserve it. They deserve worse.

"I'll be right back." You promise, tracing a fingernail down his arm. "Get another round?" He trots off, eager to please.

The chairs scrape as soon as you turn into the dingy hallway, and their shadows fill the air, sucking it dry. You resist the urge to turn, palm flat against the swinging door of the toilets.

"What are ye doin'?" Johnny rages, and you turn to mouth off, only to jerk backwards at the realization of how close he is. You can count the flecks of gold around his irises, see the shimmer of cerulean blue. Simon stands at his back, a wall blocking out the rest of the hall, hiding you from view.

"I'm on a date." Simon laughs.

"You call this little show a date, sweetheart? Is that what you think that is?"

"Not sure you'd know what I'm like on a date since you never took me on one." You spit, and Johnny goes rigid, muscles hardening.

"Not sure that little boy would know the first thing about handlin' ye."

"Handling me?" The squeak your voice makes is embarrassing and incredulous at the same time. "Handle me? You think I need handling? I'm a full grown woman. I don't need-" He presses closer, close enough you can smell him, and your mouth drops open when he pushes you against the wall, cock hard under his jeans. "J-johnny."

"Aye, we think ye need handlin'. Ye're only supposed to be handled by us. Not by some sad wank who cannae stop droolin' like a dog."

"Stop." The resolve in your voice wavers, your resistance cracking and crumbling as Simon appears beside him, mouth pressing to your ear.

"You think that boy has a fat cock to feed you, sweet girl? Think he knows how-" One of them cups you between your legs over the fabric of your dress, palm grinding against your clit, and you grit your teeth against the friction, the moan it tries to pull from your throat. "to take care of this pussy?"

"She's high maintenance, ye know." Johnny snickers, lips dotting your cheek, down to your neck. He cups a fistful of your breast, thumb stroking where your nipple strains beneath your bra. "Ye think he'll be able to make ye gush for him? Make ye cum on his cock?" You're boiling, anger and desire feeding twin flames, trying to sputter out a response.

"What's going on here?" Your date practically shouts from the edge of the hallway, and Simon's grin turns feral. Predatory.

Fear strikes, and turns you cold.

"D-don't." You try to implore.

"Are you okay?" Your poor date catches your gaze, and you try to will him away with your eyes.

"Leave him alone." You plead.

"Fuck off mate. This is between us and our girl. Ye're done here."

"Excuse me?" He steps closer, and Simon pushes off the wall. Desperate, you latch onto his forearm.

"Simon, please. He's not-"

"He said you're done here." Simon snarls. "Run along like a good boy."

"Fuck you." He postures, and you shake your head frantically, trying to step out between them. Johnny doesn't budge, keeping you half pinned against the wall.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Maybe you'd like to watch us fuck her, after we make you beg for it. After we stretched out your neglected little hole." Johnny laughs, a cackle full of crow, smart and mischievous, and you nearly faint. Your date looks sick.

He takes one look at you, another look at the boys... and then flees. Johnny whistles. "Coward."

When they both turn back...

you burst into tears.