#i'm sorry if this is all over the place but then again i think i am always all over the place lol

[aperrywilliams]

Tin Wedding (Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader)

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Author Masterlist | Event Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader.

Summary: You've become friends with Penelope Garcia over the past year, and after much insistence from her, you agreed to visit her at her office one day. What you didn't expect was to run into your ex-husband there. And surely you didn't expect that he - Spencer Reid - is Penelope's coworker.

Word Count: 7.2k (please, stop me!)

Warnings: Yes. I set this one as +16. Mention of Reader being drunk. Curses and some strong words. Mention of sex - oral (m&f). Nothing detailed. IDFK anything about the US marriage and divorce system.

A/N: 2nd Fic for the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge I was hosting during October with my sis @babymetaldoll. I'm so sorry for the delay, but life has crushed me these past weeks.

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The ding of the elevator signals you are already on the sixth floor. The doors open, and the first thing you see are people going and coming. It's the bustling of a lively office at noon. But this is not just any office; this is the FBI headquarters in Quantico. You never thought you would be in a place like this in your life, but here you are after your friend Penelope convinced you to visit her at work after insisting for weeks.

BAU - Behavioural Analysis Unit reads the glass doors in front of you. This is the place. Looking at the scattered desks on the open floor, you look for a clue that leads you to Penelope.

People walk past you without paying much attention. Maybe you should ask for help. But before you can decide to do so, a voice behind your back breaks you out of your thoughts.

"Can I help you?"

You know that voice. You're sure of that. But wait. It can't be—not after years of not hearing it.

You slowly turn around just to confirm that your suspicions are correct. Standing in front of you is a curious Spencer Reid, who pales when he sees your face. He remembers you, too.

"Oh God, Spencer?"

A stupid question with an obvious answer, but that doesn't take away the surprise of coming face to face with someone you never thought you'd see again in your life.

"(Y/N)? Wow..."

Time has passed, you tell yourself. Spencer looks more grown up. His hair is a little shorter, and he doesn't look so skinny anymore; it even seems there's some muscle under the white shirt he sports. Some stubble adorns his face, and dark circles can be seen under his eyes. But his beautiful eyes are the same as you remember them from when you first met in Pasadena.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, still shocked. Spencer's expression seems pretty much the same as yours.

"Uh. Well, I work here," he explains after clearing his throat.

A Caltech's genius working with the FBI? You wouldn't have expected it. But then again, you didn't expect to cross paths with him after all this time. "And what are you doing here?"

Good point. Why did you come? Oh, yes. Penelope Garcia.

"I'm here to see a friend," you mumble. Spencer's confused look changes to what? Disappointment? Of course, you're not there for him. It's stupid ever to think that, considering you haven't talked since the day you said goodbye and parted ways in that tiny apartment you shared in Pasadena.

And then an awkward silence. What are the chances that after so long, you were going to meet Spencer? And if you're wondering how long, we're talking about ten years when you were both pursuing your degrees at Caltech. In your case, it was the first one because Spencer was already in his third PhD when you met.

Before you can say something else, the one and only Penelope Garcia burst into the room, looking for you.

"There you are! Why didn't you call me when you got here?"

Totally unbeknown to the tense silence, she steps in front of you and hugs you. You can feel Spencer's confused look on you. "I'm glad you made it! We have so much to talk about."

"Garcia is your friend?" Spencer asks, gaze on you, and it's when you realize how weird the situation is. Penelope turns to him, an eyebrow furrowed.

"Of course, I'm her friend. And she came to see me," Garcia scoffs until she realizes something. "Wait a minute. For what reason would you ask that?"

Spencer clears his throat. He doesn't know what your opinion is about people knowing that fact.

"We know each other," you explain to her before asking. "How do you know Spencer?"

"No way! What a coincidence!" Garcia chirps. The exclamation raises the interest of the people entering the bullpen. Some of them approach to where you all are. "Reid? We work together!"

What were the chances of something like that happening to you, you wondered, as Spencer continued to stare at you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"What's happening here, baby girl?" A toned man asks Garcia, who can't contain her excitement.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," she announces as two women join the conversation.

Garcia briefly explains to the audience who you are and that she just found out that you both know Spencer, too. After the first impression, she proceeds to introduce you to those there: Derek, JJ, and Emily. From the corner of your eye, you can see Spencer downcasting his look at their curious glances at him.

"So you guys know each other?" JJ asks.

You both nod at the same time as Spencer mutters, "Caltech."

"Ah, fellow grads," JJ assumes. And in part, she is right. Indeed, you met while you were starting your master's degree and subsequent doctorate in the same area as Spencer.

"Kind of," you admit, seeing Spencer's cheeks flush and feeling yours burn too. The guy who was presented as Derek Morgan has a smirk plastered on his face.

"College sweethearts?" Morgan asks in a teasing tone. And he is kind of right, too. You lock eyes with Spencer, and you can't tell if he did or wants to say to his colleagues what you really were at that time. But before you both can even think of saying anything, Garcia's eyes widen in recognition.

"No! Wait a minute! Did you go to college together? You said the other day that you-" she starts connecting information, and you start to freak out internally. Before you can stop her, Garcia blurts. "Oh! Spencer is your ex-husband? You have to be kidding me!"

Shit. How did she figure it out so quickly? Sure, it might be your fault for sharing details about your college love life with her on a night filled with alcohol, but how could you have known she was already acquainted with him? You were careful not to mention any names or specifics, yet here you are.

"Wait, what?" Morgan's smirk turns to jaw slack in astonishment. There is no difference between JJ's and Emily's reactions. Spencer's face is flushed, and so is yours.

"Someone is going to say anything?" Emily asks, bouncing her eyes between you and Spencer.

"Uh, well—" you start, giving Spencer an apologetic look, who returns you an awkward tight-lip smile.

"Yeah. We were married," he confirms.

"When we were at college," you add.

You can feel the heaviness in the air and the mid-surprised, mid-incredulous looks from the people around you. Morgan is the first to break the silence.

"Damn it, pretty boy. What a story you had hidden from us," he says, patting Spencer's shoulder. JJ - the quietest one until now - senses how uncomfortable you and Spencer are with all the attention.

"Guys, why don't we give them a minute?"

After a moment of consideration, Emily seconds the motion. "Yeah, Morgan, would you help me with something?"

"Su- sure," Morgan agrees, still confused but following Emily nonetheless.

"But—" Penelope is still trying to understand the whole situation and has many questions she wants to ask.

"Come on, Garcia. I'm sure (Y/N) will find you when she is ready," JJ encourages, looking at you. That's when you get out of your daze and nod.

"Yes. Yeah. I'll text you, Penelope."

And just like that, the same way people surrounded you just seconds ago, now it's just you, Spencer, and an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you worked here. I didn't know you were Penelope's coworker, and—" you start to apologize.

"No. Don't. It's not your fault," Spencer rushes to speak.

"I shouldn't have told her about - about," you trail off.

"About you having an ex-husband?" Spencer supplies, and you shyly nod.

"Believe me, it's not a thing I tell everyone I meet, but Penelope, well, she-" you try to find the right words. Spencer nods in understanding.

"Yeah, she can be pretty convincing when she wants to know something."

Another halo of silence passes between you until it's Spencer who breaks it this time.

"So, how have you been? I mean, it's been a while." You nod, still uncomfortable with the situation but just as curious as you assume Spencer is.

"Yeah, it's been a while," you confirm. "Good, all good on my end. Working and living. What about you?"

"Me? Good. Working here at the BAU."

"Cool."

Cool? What does that mean?

A sharp 'Reid' is heard from behind you both, making you turn to the source. A well-dressed man with a serious gaze is looking at Spencer from an office threshold. "Can you come, please?" the man adds. Spencer nods quickly. "Sure. I'll be there in a second, Hotch." The answer seems to satisfy the man, so he nods and returns inside.

Spencer turns to you again. "Uh. I - uh-" he stutters, motioning where the man called Hotch was a second ago.

"Yeah. I have to go, too." You have to, actually, but you don't think you can face Penelope or anyone else right now, for that matter. "It was nice to see you." As you are about to run away subtly, Spencer calls your name. Stopping in your tracks, you turn, and your eyes make contact with his again.

"Would you - uh. Would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime?"

It catches you off guard, but you only assume he's being polite. You think you should return the gesture.

"Sure. Why not," you say, giving him a little smile. "Now I have to go. Bye, Spencer."

And with that, you resume your escape to the elevator.

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From the moment he saw you at the BAU, Spencer has never been the same. He never imagined he would see you again, especially under those circumstances. Spencer was so astonished he wasn't even able to start a decent conversation or even ask for your number after inviting you to a coffee.

Also distressed about the interrogation he knew his colleagues would subject to him, Spencer wanders through the BAU halls as if he were not in the present. And, in fact, he is not. After seeing you, he has only been able to think about you and the years you both spent in Pasadena.

A smile tugs the corners of his mouth every time one of those memories comes to him.

"Okay, pretty boy, spill," Derek prompts when he sees Spencer in the kitchen two days after your encounter.

"Uh? What are you talking about?" he turns, confused, to see Derek looking at him with a frown and arms over his chest.

"Come on! You know what I'm talking about. About the pretty lady, Garcia's friend, who happens to be your ex-wife?"

Spencer huffs through his nostrils.

"I already told you. We met in college, and we were together until we graduated," Spencer says nonchalantly as if it's normal. He tries, at least. Morgan scoffs at his attempt.

"Reid. You married her. You just can't tell me you 'were together' as you're talking about any other relationship. She was important; what happened?"

Morgan remembers well a few years ago when Spencer told him about a great love he had while at Caltech and how, from time to time, those memories would come to plague his head. It wasn't hard for Morgan to connect the dots and assume you were the person Spencer was referring to.

Spencer sighs thoughtfully. "We ended it by mutual agreement. We both knew our career paths were going to be incompatible, and we both had so many dreams to fulfill. Our greatest act of love was letting each other go. At least that's how I saw it for a long time."

"But you regretted it at some point," Morgan adds, and Spencer nods. "Why didn't you try to find her then?"

"I didn't want to be selfish. What if she already had her life going perfectly, and I was just going to show like a kicked puppy? It wasn't fair for her."

"Man, I get it, but what about now? You found each other again. Can it be a kind of sign or something." Spencer glances at Derek with an incredulous look.

"Are you listening to yourself? You sound like Garcia," Spencer grumbles, making Derek laugh.

"Yeah. Definitely, it's something my baby girl would say. But, truly speaking, Reid, why not take a chance?"

Spencer huffs in frustration. "I - I don't know anything about her in these years! I didn't even ask for her number that day. I was frozen on the spot!"

"And that will stop you?"

A satisfactory smirk appears on Derek's face when Spencer stays silent, contemplating his options.

---------

Not wanting to talk about the encounter with anyone, you write to Penelope, apologizing for having to leave suddenly that day. She responds everything is fine and doesn't even ask you why, to which you are tremendously grateful.

But as the days pass by, you know you have to talk to her at some point, so you invite her to come over one afternoon.

You have been thinking a lot and rationalizing everything that happened. Of course, there was always a possibility of crossing paths with Spencer someday, but turning it into reality is different. So you conclude all your nerves were out of the shock of something unprovable happening, not because seeing Spencer after ten years made you fall off your balance.

With that in mind, you were ready to talk to Penelope.

Once she gets to your apartment, you first apologize for leaving that day and explain how you got frozen after the unexpected encounter. Garcia tells you not to worry and even says she is sorry for telling everyone about her discovery without any filter.

"It's just- I was so impressed. I couldn't help it!" she explains, and you nod in understanding.

"It's okay. I guess no one expected something like that."

"Right? But I have to ask. How did Spencer Reid become your husband? I mean, you told me about your ex-husband and all, but I'm sorry, I can't picture Spencer even talking to a girl without stuttering, less asking for marriage, and then divorcing? It's beyond me."

It catches your attention how she talks about him. Although you met Spencer when you both were very young, knowing how shy he was, over time, you managed to beat his barrier and meet a wonderful man full of charisma and not so sheepish after all. Has he never shown that side to anyone else in all these years?

"Why so much interest in my marriage? It's been a decade," you ask Penelope, and her scoff sounds a mix of obvious and disbelief.

"Honey, it's unbelievable Doctor Loving Reid has kept THAT information to himself for so long. So now that it is out, it does pick my full interest. Spill. What happened?"

You shrug your shoulder. "It's like I said the first time I told you. We were young, a whole life ahead. Neither he nor I wanted to cut each other's wings."

"But you loved each other!" Penelope complains with an adorable pout. You have known this woman for what? Less than a year? And she seems brokenhearted about something that happened to you and Spencer ten years ago. She's right, though. You and Spencer were mad in love. Unlike what people have believed for years, your marriage was not a result of a wild night of alcohol and passion in Pasadena. You were both quite sober when you went to court that day. Both even had written down the vows you professed in front of the judge- yours on a piece of paper and Spencer in his brain, of course.

"If it's any consolation, the year we were married, we were very happy," you tell her, fondly remembering that time. Garcia rolls her eyes.

"Well, exactly that's what I mean, miss. If you were so happy, why end it like that?"

The only answer you can think of is 'it's complicated,' but that will surely increase her curiosity.

"We wanted the best for each other, even if it meant being apart. As good rational beings, we weighed our options, and the sensible thing to do was to end it."

Putting it in that way, Penelope can believe it. Having known Spencer for years, she knows for a fact his big brain is capable of analyzing every probability of every possible outcome. What seems incredible to her is how feelings - how love - can be rationalized like this.

A ding from your phone pauses your talk with Penelope. You glance at the device and see a text from an unknown caller.

'Hi. I'm Spencer. I stupidly didn't ask you for your number, so after cursing myself for the past few days, I had to find it out. Don't get mad, please. I would really like to grab a coffee with you if you are up to it. If you don't want to, I understand. And if you don't want me to contact you again, just say the words, and I'll stop. But I really hope you say yes. SR.'

Okay. This is unexpected. Indeed, you remember not having exchanged numbers with Spencer, and you didn't give it much thought either, assuming his invitation had been out of pure kindness. But here you are, reading the message and feeling an emotion you can't describe. Nostalgia, maybe?

You narrow your eyes to Garcia, who immediately suspects who sent you a text.

"Before you ask, I didn't give him your number!" she defends as you breathe a deep sigh.

"He's asking me out for coffee," you tell Garcia, and she can't help but squeal.

"Will you say yes?"

"I don't know. Is it a good idea to get back in touch after all these years?" you muse more for yourself than her.

"Honey, only you know what's best for you, but if you ask me, I remember you telling me after you both split up, you were left with a lot of 'what ifs' in your head, and some of them are still floating around. Maybe this could help clear them up once and for all."

Penelope has a point. But now, you have a dilemma in the form of a coffee invitation.

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It's just a coffee. Don't overthink it.

You have been telling yourself that for a while as you walk to the coffee shop where you agreed to meet Spencer today.

He is just being nice.

Sure, after ten years of no contact, this sudden encounter in the FBI - with all his colleagues there - maybe pressured him to invite you to grab a coffee.

Still lost in your thoughts, you don't realize you are already there. After taking a deep breath, you step inside and look around. You spot him in a booth in the corner, back to you. A smile tugs at your lips, remembering all the coffee dates you both had back then. It was your thing. Hours and hours talking about everything and anything until the owner asked you to leave because they needed to close.

"Hey," you greet, making Spencer look up to you.

"Hi," he returns, a smile plastered on his face. "Thanks for accepting my invitation," he gestures for you to sit.

"Sure. Why I wouldn't?" After taking off your coat, you sit in front of him in the booth.

"Yeah. I mean, we haven't talked in ten years. And then we see each other at my work, and- well, it's kind of weird, I guess?"

Weird is an understatement, you think.

"You are right. Kind of it is."

You notice there are two coffee cups on the table. Spencer follows your line of sight.

"Uh- I had ordered already," he points to the coffee in front of you. "I don't know if you have changed your order, though."

"Thanks," you mumble appreciatively. "I haven't changed it, actually."

"Great!"

You try to gauge his expression. Is he nervous? Anxious? Because you are.

"Spencer, if you are uncomfortable, we can just go home. There is no—" You can't finish the sentence before Spencer cuts you off.

"No. No, I'm not. Please, don't think that."

"Okay," you concede. "I won't. But you need to be honest with me, okay?"

"Of course," Spencer agrees.

"You felt obligated to invite me here after what happened?" You bluntly ask, and Spencer's eyes widen.

"What? No, of course not," Spencer immediately denies. "I really wanted to see you. It's just that-" he hesitates. You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. "I just didn't know if it was right, you know? I mean, we never reach out, and then it happens. We never agreed-" he trails off. And you know exactly what he's talking about.

Back then, when you decided to go separate ways, Spencer asked you what would happen if you met again in the future, and you shook your head, saying it probably wouldn't happen. So yes, you never talked about the possibility, and Spencer understood he should never contact you, and so did you.

"I know. We didn't," you recognize, regret slipping in your voice. "I guess I didn't want to think about the possibility back then."

You two know there are things you left out and left unsaid the last night you were together in Pasadena, but you don't think it's a good idea to say them now—not when this is supposed to be a friendly reunion between exes.

"So, since when have you been working in DC?" Spencer asks after you tell him about your work career on the west side.

"Almost two years," you admit.

Two years living in the same city. Spencer wonders if Garcia hadn't met you, he would have ever seen you again.

Your professional career has certainly been prolific; Spencer can tell after the stories you have been recounting. Years of experience and important jobs, just as you had dreamed when you were in college. These are the same dreams you shared with Spencer during the nights of studying and those where there was everything else but studying.

"I thought you were going to pursue academics. When did the FBI happen?" you ask after saying it's enough of talking about yourself.

"I thought that too. And I did it for a while. Then I met Gideon. He - uh, he showed me what the BAU had been doing, and I knew it was my place to be."

Spencer fondly tells you about his early years working as a profiler and how much he has learned. It seems that, like you, he has found his professional calling.

Two hours and three coffees later, you are both laughing about the weird and funny things you have seen in the past years. It feels good, and much of the initial nervousness has dissipated. But there is one topic you both have actively avoided: romantic relationships.

You are curious about it, and Spencer is, too, but neither of you wants to be the one to mention it first. Spencer is who breaks first.

"Are we going to talk about - about that? I feel we have been dancing about the topic, but I don't know if you want to."

You can't help but snort out of being caught and for the subject itself. You are sure your almost nonexistent love life is enough to make anyone cry or laugh.

"I'm still that obvious?"

"You have your tells," Spencer shrugs. You raise an eyebrow.

"I have my tells? What about you, doctor? You have been bouncing your leg the same way you did the day you defended your engineering PhD dissertation."

Spencer's eyes widen. "You still remember that?"

The insinuation of you forgetting that day makes you scoff.

"Of course I do! I tried everything to try to calm your nerves. Do you remember what I did, and actually, it worked?" Spencer's cheeks redden because he remembers.

You won't tell the details, but you recall, as clear as the day, how you helped him to 'decompress.'

"Okay, okay. Guilty as charged."

"So, what do you want to know?" You ask, still not fully ready but resigned, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest.

"Are you with someone?" Spencer asks, and you gasp, feigning surprise.

"No beating around the bushes, uh?"

Spencer's cheeks flush, and he can't help it. "If it's out the line, you don't need to answer."

Seeing him flustered and biting his lower lip makes your heart do flip-flops. It's something you haven't felt in a long time—ten years, to be exact.

"If you had asked me a month ago, I should have said yes."

Indeed, you had a boyfriend until a month ago when his insistence on moving in with you was too much to handle, and his frustrated self decided to say a lot of awful things when you said no to him.

Some people would say you have commitment issues, and maybe you have. But in all honesty, until this day, there is no one you have felt secure enough to take that step.

It's ironic, considering you already have a marriage under your belt.

"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbles.

"No. Don't be. It wasn't meant to be."

'Like I used to think about us,' you want to add, but you refrain. Instead, you explain in not much detail every failed relationship you have had. Spencer listens intently, his heart aching to think of how a part of you might have been broken with each failed relationship. He hasn't done any better, though.

"And that's all. As you can see, there is nothing too exciting to remark," you chuckle to lighten the mood. "Tell me about you. There is a Mrs. Reid waiting at home?"

Spencer snorts, shaking his head. "No. There's no Mrs. Reid. The only one who has held the title has been you," he says with a look that makes your breath hitch in your throat. What is it? Longing?

"Wow. I feel honored," you tease, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.

Spencer tells you about the few relationships he's had over the years. In his own opinion, none of them are very meaningful. When you ask him why, he doesn't hesitate to answer. "This job not only consumes my time, but also a lot of me as a person. Not everyone understands that."

He would like to say no one has ever been so important as to make him doubt continuing to work in what he does. The only person who ever made him doubt was you. But instead of saying it, he prefers to end with a "I guess that's why no one has stayed."

Listening to him talk is like listening to yourself, trying to minimize the fact that professional success is possibly one of the main reasons why other parts of your personal life have never flourished.

It was your choice. You both decided to make it that way. But sometimes you wonder if...

"Do you think we made a mistake?"

Spencer's question gets you out of your thoughts.

You look at him, baffled. "What?"

"Do you think we shouldn't have broken up? That I shouldn't have left?"

You pondered his question for a second. It has to do with how you felt at that time? Or does it have to do with how you felt after or even now?

"Honestly? I don't know, Spencer." A resigned sigh leaves your lips. "I always wanted to think it was the right thing to do."

"You never regretted it?" He asks you, and you shrug, not knowing much to say. Instead, you opt to ask him the question back.

"Did you?"

"Yeah. I did," he admits. "Sometimes I still do."

A heavy silence settles between you. The admission that you both had doubts about the drastic decision you made almost ten years ago is difficult to take. It unfurls a whole new set of questions whose answers you are not sure you are ready to hear or say. But it's only fair he knows your truth as you know his now.

"For what is worth, me too. I regret it. More often than I would like to admit."

Spencer's heart starts to beat faster; breath hitches in his throat for a second.

He tentatively reaches out to rest his hand on yours. You watch the action and think you know what it means. His eyes are hopeful. Something you'd like to mirror in your own, but the uncertainty is there, and you can't help it.

"Spencer, no. Please, don't." You try to articulate but not take your hand away from his. "I wish I could tell you I'm willing to try- to try to make up for lost time, but I can't. Even though it may not seem like it, we're strangers to each other, and I'm not in a place to even think about- you know."

Spencer gives a little squeeze to your hand, nodding.

"I know. And I'm not asking you for us to redo our story and start from where we ended. No. But I would love to get to know you again and be your friend."

"Friends?" You ask, brows furrowed. He smiles.

"Yeah. First and foremost, you were always my best friend. My person. Even if we never get back together as a couple, and we don't have to, I don't want to lose you again."

You take a moment to think about his words. What would be the harm? You're at a stage in your life where you don't want to live thinking about those things you wish you had done and didn't. The things you might have done differently. Why not put reason aside for a moment and just be?

You squeeze his hand back, a sign of yes; you're willing to get to know the Spencer in front of you.

---------

Three months have passed since your conversation with Spencer at the coffee shop. You both agreed to reconnect as friends, which has led to many coffee meetings, lunches, dinners, movie nights, and walks in the park. And to say your heart feels full and happy would be an understatement. You've realized how much of the Spencer you met in Pasadena still exists, and the connection that once brought you together has revitalized and is stronger than ever.

Neither of you has wanted to rush things, and so far, you're both happy to be able to spend time together.

Spencer has also opened the door for you to the BAU team, which has been his family for eight years now. In addition to the bond you already had with Penelope, you now regularly attend the girls' night she hosts with JJ and Emily. You've also gotten to know Derek and Hotch better and understand why Spencer considers them like his older brother and father figure, respectively. You've also become a favorite of David Rossi, who doesn't take no for an answer every time he invites you to one of his dinners.

Like tonight, where you find yourself vividly chatting with the girls in a corner of Rossi's backyard.

"No way I could have passed Dynamics and Mechanics without Spencer," you acknowledge when you're talking about the most challenging subjects you had in college.

"It seems a very interesting topic," Emily jokes, not knowing what the hell you were talking about.

You giggle at the memory, cheeks turning a shade of pink.

"I still remember those afternoons Spencer spent trying to help me memorize the Euler–Lagrange equations and the Hamilton's principle. He made it interesting, if you know what I mean," you wink at them.

"I don't think I want to know," JJ muses. Emily snorts at the suggestion.

"Oh, I definitely want to know what that means," Penelope pipes. You chuckle.

"One night, he made me recite the whole equations with his head buried between my thighs," you confess with a mischievous look.

"Oh my God!" Garcia's jaw goes slack, and Emily's eyes widen in disbelief.

"You fucking kidding me!"

"Definitely, I didn't want to know that," JJ shakes her head.

"Well, I helped him with Applied Computer Science. He had to produce a code to operate a string of relational databases while I was on my knees su-"

"Okay! I get it!" Garcia cuts you off, with her hands in the air, as Emily laughs and JJ groans.

"You asked," you shrug, a smirk on your lips.

"Okay, okay. But hear me out. Since we are talking about college time, and honestly speaking, we all have had someone in college, more or less important, with whom to study or do other things," Emily prefaces, making you giggle. "But from that, to marry, and one year later to divorce? How do you get over something so intense like that?"

You have questioned yourself the same for years.

Looking past JJ's shoulder, you see Spencer talking with Morgan, beer in hand, and you can't help but feel the smile creeping on your face when he looks back and winks at you.

If anything, the past months have made you realize what you had back then with him was unique. But what you're having now? It is as unique as before and better.

"I don't think you get over it. And it's okay; you learn to appreciate it and value the chances life gives you after."

The girls follow your line of sight and share a knowing look. When they see Spencer approaching the group, they collectively decide to go inside the house for a new drink.

"All yours," Garcia whispers to Spencer before going in a bee-line with Emily and JJ.

"What was that?" Spencer asks you with a quirked eyebrow when the girls are out of sight.

You look at him, pretending not to understand.

"I assume they wanted a refill," you say with a shrug. Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And you don't? Do you want me to get you something?"

"No. I'm fine," you respond to his offer. "Besides, I think I've got my alcohol ration filled for the night."

"If you're done for the night, I can take you home if you want."

That's the Spencer you know, always concerned about your well-being and comfort. You shake your head.

"Not yet. Walk with me, though?" You ask, extending your hand for him to take. Without questioning reasons, Spencer nods and takes your hand. The two of you begin to walk towards the pool area, where the sound of the music coming from the house is less audible.

It's not unusual for you to hold hands now. You trust each other, and it's been an innocent way of showing affection. And while the tension of something more has been building, neither of you has wanted to take the next step yet.

When you stop in the pool deck, Spencer moves to stand in front of you, his free hand reaching to tilt your chin with his index so he can inspect your face for some kind of clue.

"Are you okay?"

You nod as your fingers, from your joined hands, absently play with his. A thorough smile tugs the corners of your mouth. Your eyes admiring Spencer's honey ones in the moonlight.

"More than okay," you admit. But Spencer knows there is more in your mind you're not saying.

"Yeah?"

"Yep." You're stretching this on purpose. A smirk plays on your face. Spencer knows what you are doing.

"Good." His voice is amused. This game was one you both used to play back then, testing each other's curiosity and seeing how long it took the other to demand an answer about what the other was thinking. Usually, you were the one who won since Spencer couldn't stand not knowing.

"Have you grown patient over the years, Dr. Reid?" You ask, entertained. Spencer's laughter fills you with a feeling you thought was dormant inside you, but he has managed to refloat.

Not wanting to prolong his torture, and because you don't have it in you to hold back any longer, you decide to speak.

"I know you remember, but can you tell me the first thing I said to you the day I met you?"

Spencer's eyes narrow in search of the moment you're referring to.

-

You were in the library, busily searching through the shelves for a book you couldn't find. Spencer could see the stress radiating off of you. After watching you for a few seconds, he decided to walk over to the shelf, and leaning down, he pulled a book from the top shelf before presenting it to you. "Maybe this is the one you're looking for?" And he was right. Your first thought was, 'How did I not see it before?' and then you realized the weirdest thing of all, 'how did he know which was the book you were looking for?' You didn't know the guy, and as far as you knew, he didn't know you either.

Seeing your confusion, he proceeded to explain. "It was an educated guess, seeing as you have Fuller's, Richmond's, and Helbert's there. I assumed you were in Thermodynamics 301 and didn't have Priest's."

-

Spencer laughs before trying to imitate your voice. "Can I buy you a coffee in appreciation and keep you in my purse for future reference?" You nod, smiling.

"Bold of me for asking that to a stranger, uh?"

"Bold of you for thinking I would ever refuse," Spencer says in a mocking tone to match your joke. You both share a fit of laughter. Once it subsides, your eyes fix on him.

"Bold of me to think I wouldn't fall in love with you after all these years." Your words hit Spencer, whose expression changes from light to serious in a second.

"What?"

"It's like they say. At some point, something has to give. And this is my moment." You pause before continuing. "I can't say I'm sure what's coming, because I'm not. I also don't know if what you've seen of me these past few months is worth enough for you to love me again. But there's one thing I do know. I love you. I loved you, I missed you, and now I've loved you again."

Spencer is speechless. His brain tries to piece together each word you say. You take both his hands in yours, and you can feel them tremble.

"If you'll have me, I want to be the one that stays," you add, hoping your words are good enough to convey your emotions.

You don't know when tears start running down your cheeks. It might be when you see Spencer's glassy eyes.

"I do love you. And I want you to be the one who stays," he rasps before releasing your hands to cup your cheeks with his own, leaning down to whisper, "Let me be the person you want to stay for."

"You already are," you whisper back before closing the distance between you, allowing your lips to meet in a tender, sweet kiss. A new promise and a new beginning for two souls that were meant to be. Thanks to fate, or maybe not. That doesn't matter anymore.

-

As you kiss, part, whisper sweet nothings to each other, and kiss again, not so far away, are two people watching the scene with satisfied looks on their faces.

"Do you see that, Hot Stuff?" Garcia asks Morgan. A smirk appears on his face.

"Yeah, mama. I see it, clear as the day."

"We did it!" Penelope cheers, whisper-yelling, making Morgan chuckle.

"I should never have doubted you, baby girl," the man says, kissing her cheek.

"Of course not. But I forgive you only because I'm so happy our plan worked wonderfully."

-----------

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

Penelope Garcia's curiosity always gets the best of her. She has gotten to know you better in the past months since the IA convention where you met. She sees you as a beautiful person and a good friend. So when you told her on a night full of alcohol about your ex-husband and how important your relationship was for you, Penelope couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to know more, so maybe she could do something to help. Do what? She didn't know, but maybe more information about it would give her an idea.

Quickly typing on her keyboard, she finds a Pasadena Marriage License with your name on it. Checking the date, Garcia notes you had married in the summer before your senior year. It was expected. You already told her that.

What was unexpected, though, was finding out who the person you had married was. Garcia had to read the name twice before realizing the huge discovery she had just made: Spencer Walter Reid.

'No way! It has to be a mistake,' she squealed, fast-reading the information on the papers. No, there wasn't any mistake. You married Spencer Reid almost ten years ago. The same Spencer Reid she has known for so long and works with her every day.

But wait. You had said, ex-husband. Where are the divorce papers?

Typing again, she finds a divorce request signed by you and Spencer a year after you married. So that is true, too.

Overwhelmed by everything she has just discovered, Garcia is about to close the web tabs with all this data when something pops up: it's a court resolution dated six months after the divorce request. The resolution reads that the request has been denied because one of the parts couldn't be notified for comparison to the Pasadena tribunal. Garcia narrows her eyes and types again, looking for an updated legal document granting the divorce request. She finds none.

'Double holy fucking shit! They are still married!'

Without knowing what to do with this new information, she starts pacing frantically in the office. Garcia knows that the information she found wasn't for her to know, but at the same time, how does it not you or Spencer know this? She can't tell you, but she should, or maybe not. Grabbing her phone, she dials the only person she knows will help her with the dilemma.

"Derek Morgan. I need your delicious ass in my office right now!"

And just like that, a plan emerged. A plan to give a little push to destiny. A little push to you and Spencer cross paths again. Maybe this time, for good.

-----------

"And when are you going to tell them about their failed divorce?" Morgan asks Garcia, who is still looking at the couple giggling and kissing.

"Oh, shush. Let them enjoy tonight. There will be time for that."

Derek Morgan shakes his head, laughing. "Okay. You're the boss, mama. You're the boss."

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

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

[thatgaydemigodnerd]

Brucie Wayne had wandered off to find the bathrooms. This excuse would buy him around 10 minutes of time to find the Penguin's plans. He was definitely planning something.

What Bruce didn't expect was the joker to bust the Gala. He'd hoped it would've been the riddler this time, or maybe even Harley and Ivy.

So now of course the whole building was on lockdown, if he could slip away he could make an appearance as-

He was being tackled.

"Where are you going you idiot! There's a Joker attack," hissed a familiar voice. Ah, Danny Fenton. Time to play up the Brucie act again.

"Joker? Oh I would love to hear a joke. Do you think he can make balloon animals? He's a clown right?" Oracle giggled over the comms, no doubt watching through the security cameras.

"Does he... How do you not know how dangerous he is! You live here!" Danny got up off of him and dragged him to a side room, clearly a small office of some accountant, and locked the doors behind them.

"Joker was in the main gala hall last time I saw him, he was not looking for you as far as I heard. Pretty sure he just wants attention from Batman like usual." Oracle confirmed he still is in the main gala hall with the hostages. Dick would need to show up as batman today, Bruce couldn't slip away. He pressed the button hidden on his cufflink to indicate he was stuck in civvies but not in immediate danger. Oracle would handle the rest.

"Oh, that's a shame. I was hoping he would give me a balloon animal." He pulled a sad face, like a child that's been told they can't have candy before dinner.

"How. How are you the richest man on the planet? How has someone not scammed you out of all your money yet? You'd fall for the first nigerian prince scam someone sent you. How did Gotham not eat you alive?" He looked like he was about to tear his hair out.

Bruce looked at his body language, he's still keeping his voice down despite his anger, and he always keeps the door in his field of vision. When he entered he did a quick scan of the place, eyes landing on the airvents, clearly considering them an emergency means of escape.

If he was bullied he would be vigilant, but this level of vigilance and calm during an emergency situation, especially the gotham rogues, would not be explained so easily. Clearly this young man has done some vigilante work himself. He would need to take a closer look at the amity park hero after this.

Welp, time to mess with him.

"Oh no I'm not related to a nigerian prince, he's actually somalian. Such a nice lad, I really should book a flight to Somalia and visit him. So nice of him to reach out and offer me part of the inheritance. Almost as nice as the Zimbabwean family who also offered me part of their inheritance."

Danny was tearing at his hair, he looked about ready to beat him to a pulp.

"I know I don't have much of a Somalian or Zimbabwean complexion, but with the gotham air who can expect me to truly get any sun, such a shame. I should go to the beach more of-" there was a knock at the door.

Oracle confirmed it was Red Robin here for extraction.

"Oh who could that be? Maybe it's that clown? You think he'll give me a balloon animal?" He had moved to the door and unlocked it before danny could pull him back.

"Sorry to disappoint mister Wayne, but the only balloon animal I can make is a worm. Let's get you two out of here."

Danny let out a sigh of relief, no doubt glad to pass off Brucie wayne to the local vigilantes.

He'll get more fun next gala he's sure. Besides, danny keeps showing up to these. He's not even part of the Mansons, their daughter keeps inviting him and he keeps saying yes. Clearly he is also enjoying this, or he thinks brucie would die without him.

Danny keeps on meeting Brucie Wayne at Galas when he goes to keep Sam company. He hates the man. There is no adoption, no adoption jokes, he never meets Batman. Give me Danny Fenton and his unending beef with Brucie Wayne. Bruce finds this absolutely hilarious. This feisty 14 year old is incredibly fun to antagonize.

[brattyspence]

safe and sound | s.reid

summary: in which post-prison!spencer finds himself so comforted by your presence that he can’t help but fall asleep whenever he’s around you. (anyone else remember that tiktok trend abt how frequently falling asleep around certain people is a sign of someone feeling safe? no? just me?)

tags: fluffy! post-prison!spence (but its not rlly mentioned in detail)(just reminding u all that man is Traumatized capital T), gun mentioned, sleeping… that’s it i think

a/n: hey idk how to follow up my last fic so here is this??? its a drabble!

word count: 651

(a very short) masterlist here

You had been sitting on your couch, laptop open on your lap as you typed away the last bit of paperwork you needed to complete for the night. The TV was playing softly, some random documentary channel you’d put on hours ago. The room was dim, only the soft lighting from the table side lamp illuminating the space.

Even though your relationship was relatively new, you were at a point where simply existing in each other's presence was an acceptable reason to hang out. You didn't need to be doing something, you were just content to exist in each others orbit. 

In recent weeks, you’d observed a new phenomenon; nearly every time he came to your apartment, he would fall asleep within an hour. 

Not that particularly you minded. Sometimes you found yourself tangled somewhere in his arms, the book you had been reading slipping from your fingertips as you also fell asleep. Other times you were so busy with work and laundry and whatever else you were up to to notice that he had been sleeping at all. 

You shut your laptop and placed it on the coffee table in front of you. It was late now, nearly 11pm. 

“Spence…” you reached over to ruffle his hair softly, hoping to stir him. “It's past 11.”

He made a slight whine of protest before fluttering his eyes open. You watched him squint at the digital clock on your TV stand. “Ugh. I'm sorry. I’m going.”

“I wasn't kicking you out,” you reply. “I just thought maybe you didn't want to spend the night on my couch.”

He sat up, rubbing his eyes for a few seconds. “Yeah, that's probably not very smart,” he replied, a slight smile creeping across his lips. “I don't know why your apartment makes me so tired.”

He did know, in fact. It was no secret that the past year hadn't been kind to him. Prison had left him changed, and touched every part of his life irreversibly, including his own home. It was stupid, he knew. He was a fully grown man, a trained agent who owned a gun and knew how to use it, and he still could never feel as safe in his own apartment as he was in yours. You were the only person in his life who didn’t see him during that point in his life. You hadn't watched him change and expected anything from him. Being in your presence was the only time there was no weight to bear.

“It's more than fine with me,” you said. You shifted across the cushions enough to tuck your head against his shoulder. “You can sleep on my couch whenever you want. But you should probably consider the bed instead, if you don't want back pain for the rest of your life.”

He chuckled softly, sliding an arm around your side to settle you against him. “I’ll consider it.”

The air grew still again. You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of his fingertips tracing lines up and down your side. Eventually you felt him place his cheek against your head. You were certain you’d also succumb to the temptation of sleep that had been creeping up on you.

“You should just stay the night,” you mumbled. 

“We both have work tomorrow, honey.”

You huffed. “But we’re so comfy right here. Please?”

“Maybe I can just get up extra early tomorrow to have time to go home…” he said. “Just because you asked so nicely.”

“Mhm. Do that.” You nodded. “And next time just pack a bag. Or I'll make space for you in my closet. Whatever will get you to stay.”

You felt him laugh quietly before he removed his arm from its position around you. He stood up before you could protest further, offering his hand to you. 

“Come on. Let's go to bed like adults.”

You groaned, accepting his hand anyway.

[suiana]

(yandere! bully victim x gn! bully reader) (cw: erm... yandere stuff, body horror or whatever its called idk bruh, he kinda carves his name into ur skin but its not mentioned in detail)

"how does it feel to be on the receiving end now, huh?"

you shiver, letting out a strained sound as you trash on the table.

"pluh- mn!"

"what was that? you've got to be clearer with your words, my dear. how do you expect me to understand muffles?"

the male hums, his cold hands dancing across your body. you could only shiver yet again, unable to do anything but remain binded to the table.

"oh, sorry, i forgot you couldn't speak. haha, how silly of me."

yeah, how silly of him to completely gag you so you couldn't speak. how completely silly of him to tie you to some cold table, restraining all your movements so that you couldn't fight back against him. how absolutely whimsical for him to be recording all your grunts, groans, and whines while you were completely restrained.

well, you suppose it's a bit ironic. considering that you were the one doing it to him when the both of you were younger. albeit not on this level.

you wonder if this was how he felt. vulnerable, naked, defenseless.

it happened so long ago, but the wounds you inflicted on him were still fresh. no matter how hard you try apologizing, his scars still bleed warm.

you shouldn't have been mean to him. you really shouldn't. especially when he was so much nicer back then.

"mn... you have no idea how much I've wanted to do this. it really makes me happy to see you so..."

he pauses, eyes raking over your form that was tied down to his table.

"so weak."

we've all watched the movies where the bully gets put in place and completely punished. you used to laugh at those films. i mean, how could the bully even be so stupid to get karma for their actions? couldn't they have hid better? tried making up for it? why did they have to go through the consequences of their actions? what idiots!

but now that it's happening to you, you wish you hadn't said those words.

the second you found out that your ex-victim was your boss, you couldn't even as much as utter a word. no, you felt like you were about to have a mental breakdown. especially because you were now his secretary, working for him.

"come on, what happened to that big, scary, and mean ol' bully that i knew? the one that used to pour water over my head and have their friends restrain me?"

his words have a hunt of condescension- no, they were fully condescending. he was mocking you right now. mocking you for your stupidity, mocking you for your actions. and he was absolutely taking pleasure in seeing you in such a weak and reduced state. a shell of the person you once were.

you couldn't do anything but to take it like the loser you were.

"haha, look at you. all tied down and gagged like the dog you are. why don't you bark for me? maybe I'll be nicer if you act like a stupid bitch in heat."

he laughs, hands resting on your clothed abdomen. his hair falls over his eyes, the usual up kept man looking like a mess as he continues to taunt you.

"you know, when i confessed to liking you, i never expected you to bully me. seriously. i thought you'd be like, I don't know, nice about it. if you were nice I don't think I'd have stalked you and do all this. would've courted you normally until you accepted. I'm a patient guy after all."

the words that come out of his mouth have just the tiniest bit of sadness in them. however, it's completely squashed down by the sharp look in his eyes.

"had i known you'd be such an ass about it... I'd have just taken you for myself right there and then. who cares about having a normal relationship, right? as long as you're with me, it's all that matters."

right, like what he was doing right now. ever since you started working for him he's been constantly... acting like he was your boyfriend rather than your boss. constantly giving you gifts, telling you that it was okay that you bullied him because he knows you're just shy and that he'll make things right... the worst part was when he forbid you from interacting with others.

it was fucking creepy.

things were only worsened when he found you on a night out at a bar, flirting with some random stranger. you had wanted to let loose and relieve some stress but it looks like karma loved to see you suffer.

"what are you doing? are you cheating on me?"

what the fuck?! you stare at your boss in horror, freezing in place. quickly turning back to the stranger you were flirting with, you shake your head and apologize, explaining that your boss was just a little weird. why the hell is he even here?!

"look, I'm sorry but he's a bit of a creep and-"

"my darling, i think it's time we go back home. you've had one too many drinks."

that experience was only the start of an even worser time. one that led him to declare to the whole damn world that you were now his in a fit of anger and mania. i mean, he practically has you locked in his house now. and it wasn't even illegal since you agreed to come.

he had called you to sort out some paperwork or whatever and you being his secretary... you couldn't refuse even if you wanted to. so you made your way to his house, all naive and ignorant of what was to come the second he opened those doors to that luxurious mansion of his.

you passed out and the next thing you knew, you were restrained to the table, gagged and staring at him with a half lidded look in your eyes.

god damn it, you should've known better than to believe this crazy guy's words. why would you willingly go to his place where there'd be no one but you two? ugh, stupid, stupid, stupid.

and now you could only express how terrified you were with your eyes and shivering body.

"how cute. how seriously cute. I've always wanted to see you look at me with that expression."

he coos, lips stretched into a smirk as he leans down to your face. his breath hits your skin, cold hands trailing up your chest and to your jaw before he grips hard.

"you're mine. it wasn't clear when i was just a boy but you've always been mine. since the day i let you bullied me, and even right now, I've made it clear. you're mine, and always will be mine."

he's right, you've always been his. why else would this rich and obviously powerful guy just let you bully him? he could've had you gone the second you made a move on him but instead...

"i still remember the slaps and bruises you left on me. ah... you were so cute back then. hitting me like that. should've scarred me too, maybe then I'd see your horrified face whenever i flashed it."

a sadist. you're sure that he's some sort of sadistic masochist.

"oh well, it's no matter. I've done that job for you."

he pulls away, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his bare upper body to you. to say that you were completely terrified would be an understatement. because why the hell was your first name (and his last name btw) painfully carved into his other flawless skin? right above his heart, no less!

"isn't it beautiful? you're forever with me now."

his words send a chill down your body. what the hell, you don't want to be with him at all! and it looks like he sensed that but chose to ignore your feelings.

your boss smiles at you before pulling out a small blade from his pants.

oh hell nah.

"it's your turn, darling."

no no no, you don't like where this is going. your body trashes violently against the cold hard table he had you strapped in, pupils blown wide as adrenaline fills your veins.

"mgh! mf!"

"hey hey, quiet down. it's only fair that i get to do it to you, right? consider this my payback. you had your fun and now I'm having mine."

no! shit shit shit, what are you supposed to do?!

you try shaking your head, sweat forming on your skin as your breath grows laboured. your body continues to trash against the bindings, but it looks like the bindings were done just a little too well.

"hm... should i do it somewhere visible? or maybe... right where your heart would be?"

you shake violently, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"nh! mh!"

"aw, is my little darling about to cry? that's so cute. go on, cry for me. cry for me just like i cried for you."

tears fall down your cheeks as he trails the vlade over your clothes. the sharpness of the item has you shivering, cold dread creeping up your spine at the very thought of that anywhere on your skin.

"hm... since you look so scared, I'll carve my initials instead of my full name. how about that? a good offer if i say so myself."

if you could speak, you'd be cursing and begging him to stop. unfortunately that wasn't the case and your boss took your lack of words as the green light.

"don't worry, I'll kiss your pain away afterwards. it'll be over before you know it."

oh god damn it, you really should've just politely rejected him when he confessed.

[bad268]

Another request for clingy Antonelli, maybe he is coming up as a reserve as one of the Mercedes drivers is sick and f1 gets a taste of clingy Antonelli, trying to keep reader with him at all times including trying to drag her into the drivers parade with him and getting made fun of by all the other drivers and team principals

Just the Way You Are (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Reader)

Clingy Antonelli Universe

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (Took me a minute, but I'm getting back into the swing of long content lol)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1715

Summary: Clingy Antonelli meets F1 for his first weekend, and the comments are getting to him.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

“I’m sorry, but do you not understand the point of a driver's parade?” You questioned in a condescending tone, but that didn’t deter Kimi from pulling you down to the track. “It’s for drivers! Not drivers and their significant others!”

“You’re like my personal photographer! This can count as working and getting content,” Kimi reasoned, and honestly, he had a point. Kimi was promoted up to Formula 1 for the last race of the season because George got food poisoning at the start of the weekend. It was a last-minute option, but Toto decided that since Kimi was going to be in the car next season, he could race anyway. “Consider this practice.”

“I think my three years of experience in photographing you in multiple races and multiple series should be plenty,” You replied as you planted your fee at the start of the track. You pulled your arm back to force Kimi to look at you. “Kimi, this is your time to shine. I do not need pictures of you in the driver’s parade today. Maybe sometime next season, I’ll talk Toto into getting me on somehow, but this is literally your first F1 race. It’s your time to shine.”

“It’s your first F1 race too, and I want you beside me just like every other first race we’ve done,” Kimi explained as he held out a hand to you. “Together?”

“You’re really trying to pull the ‘together’ card on me?” You teased as you crossed your arms, stepping back from him.

“You can never say no to the ‘together’ card,” Kimi stated as he grabbed your wrist again to pull you against him. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you tightly against his chest before whispering against your ear, “You can’t say no to me in general.”

“Let me grab my camera,” You melted as your arms dissolved and loosely wrapped around his waist briefly. Then, you gently pushed him back so you could head back to the garage to grab your camera. However, standing behind you with your camera was none other than Toto Wolff. “Hey, Toto. How can I help you?”

“I assumed he convinced you to go on the drive’s parade with him, so I brought your camera over on my way to the pit wall,” He explained as he handed it over to you. You narrowed your eyes on him, confused what he was talking about, so he continued. “I was going to ask you to cover it anyway. Kimi said he was going to get you on the bus, and our normal photographer is busy.”

“You are feeding his addiction, Toto,” You chuckled as you snatched your camera from him. “How else is he going to learn?”

“Not my problem,” Toto laughed with you, “Now, get on the bus.”

You sighed before turning back to Kimi, seeing him standing off to the side. You grabbed his wrist as you put the camera around your neck and dragged him over to the bus. You pushed him ahead of you to get on first, “Go, Kimi.”

“Nice of you to join us, Kimi,” Ollie laughed as he watched you two climb onto the bus. 

“Had to bring your emotional support photographer, I see,” Jack laughed as he nudged Kimi with his shoulder. Kimi just rolled his eyes as he gripped your hand and laughed at them sarcastically.

“You’re just jealous you don’t have one,” Kimi joked as he walked over to lean against the rail. He tried to pull you closer to him, but you placed a hand against his chest. “What now?”

“I have to get pictures of you in your natural habitat. To do that, I need to be over there,” You gestured to the opposite side of the bus. “I’m gonna go. You have fun out there.” You didn’t give him the chance to say anything as you pushed away from him while the bus started moving down the track and media personnel started interviewing different drivers. 

“Can’t even handle a few minutes to yourself, huh?” Jack bumped into Kimi’s side as they both watched you walk to the other side of the bus.

“Shut up,” Kimi muttered, pushing past Jack to stand at the edge of the bus to wave at fans.

“How much convincing did it take to get them on here?” Ollie joked as he leaned against the railing next to Kimi. Immediately, Kimi turned to glare at Ollie, but Ollie just laughed. “You know I’m teasing. Probably took more convincing to get Toto onboard.”

“I’ll have you know Tot was the one that convinced them, not me,” Kimi set the record straight as an interviewer walked up to him.

“You are filling in for George Russell, who had food poisoning earlier this week and has been declared unfit to compete this weekend,” They started off, “Last time you were in George’s car, you crashed it. How does that affect you coming into this week?”

“I can’t focus on that,” Kimi chuckled nervously, “I can say that I am much more confident this time around. I’ve had more running time in the car, I’ve had more races in F2 to find my craft, and I have my family here to support me. I can’t complain.”

“Yeah, we’ve seen your significant other snapping pictures in the background,’ The interviewer laughed and pointed you out. Kimi waved at you as you took pictures of him before he turned back to the interviewer. “Was it your doing to get them here? You have a reputation of being overly attached to them.”

“You can call me clingy. I take pride in it,” Kimi laughed, shyly looking back at you before addressing the interviewer again, “But no, I didn’t pull any strings. I wanted them here, but Toto was the one who actually convinced them to come. You can’t blame me, though. I just like having my favorite photographer around.”

With that, the interviewer took their leave while Kimi waved out to the crowd. He mindlessly waved to the fans as someone else walked up behind him. 

“I’m expecting P8 or higher as thank you,” Toto said before laughing as Kimi jumped, not expecting Toto to be behind him. 

“I’ll give you P5 or higher if you let them come with me on every parade,” Kimi negotiated quickly. Toto thought about it shortly before holding his hand out to make the deal.

~~

Kimi stood next to Toto, overlooking the data just before qualifying when George walked up beside them. George leaned against the table before someone gave up their seat for him since he technically wasn’t supposed to strain himself at the track anyway. He offered some input for Kimi and gave some tips about how to manage the track. The conversation was pretty short as Kimi had to start preparing to qualify. 

“Where’s your personal photographer? I thought you two were like velcro,” George laughed. Kimi just threw a glare at him, causing George to laugh a little too hard before putting his hands up. “I’m just saying I’ve never seen one without the other.”

“Working,” Kimi said simply, but even George could hear the frown in his tone.

“What’s with the sadness? It’s your first F1 race!” George asked, concerned for his incoming teammate. They may not be the closest of friends, but they would be teammates next year. That also wouldn’t stop George from trying to be an older brother to the rookie.

“We have a pre-race ritual, but they’re not here for it,” Kimi pouted. No one would know, however, because he threw his balaclava on before anyone could notice. George could see it in his eyes, though, that this affected him more than he wanted everyone to believe. “We’ve never missed one when they were at the track with me.”

“I bet we could call them over,” George trailed off, looking over at his manager, who was already pulling out her phone and calling you. George walked closer to Kimi and gently took his helmet from his shaking hands. “Kimi, slow down. Breathe. We’re getting them here. Just go into the back for a minute. We’ll send them back when they get here.”

Kimi didn’t need to be told twice as he retreated to his driver’s room and sat with his head in his hands on the couch. You were already on your way back when your phone started blowing up with messages. You didn’t look at them as your hands were full of equipment, and you walked through the back of the Mercedes garage, planning to drop everything off in Kimi’s driver’s room before joining him by the car for the ritual. You used your back to push open the door, and when you turned around, you immediately noticed Kimi on the couch.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be getting ready for quali?” You asked, not noticing anything wrong until you heard him take a deep breath. You set everything down by your bag, looking at him questionably, “What’s happened, Kimi?”

“Am I clingy?” He asked, looking up at you. His face was red with embarrassment, but he needed to know your opinion. 

“Who said you're clingy? Only I’m allowed to call you clingy,” You replied quickly, moving to sit in front of him. “You’re my Clingy Antonelli, and I love you just the way you are.”

“Everyone’s been saying it today,” Kimi muttered, looking away from you. He looked down at his lap and fiddled with his fingers. “The driver’s parage, in the garage, just around the paddock. Everyone says I’m clingy with you, and maybe they’re right.”

“You’re not a bad clingy,” You said immediately, taking his hands in yours. “I’ve learned that you just like me in your space. It’s your love language, in a way, and I’m not going to get mad at that. I love that you’re clingy because, secretly, I like being around you just as much.”

“You do?” Kimi’s head snapped up to meet your eyes. 

“I’ve never had the chance to be clingy because you always make the first move,” You chuckled, “I just bask in the love from you, so no, I wouldn’t change a thing about you because I love you just the way you are. You and all of your clingyness.”

~~~

Series masterlist

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Previous - Part 12 - Next

"So we just have to wait a little longer... Here you go"

You were finishing explaining the situation to Curly while giving him his medicine, Anya was standing behind you grimacing in pain at the sounds the man made while swallowing.

Anya: "How is it that... Can you tolerate that?"

"What thing? The sounds? The burnt meat? The smell? The blood?"

You were mentioning while slowly and carefully removing the bandages from his body, the man trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to further discomfort the other woman present, but the bandages were almost stuck to his skin.

You were applying water little by little to be able to peel them off better, you had managed to get more drinkable water from the station, grateful for it since they had been without bathing or cleaning themselves to avoid wasting it for weeks now.

Anya: "Everything..."

"Well, I've been to many places, doing different jobs... I've gotten used to it."

When you saw the woman's horrified face, you realized how bad that sounded.

"I worked in morgues and crematoriums! Heavens... I didn't kill anyone."

Anya: "Seriously?"

"My dad owned a morgue and a crematorium, when I turned 18, he made me work, you have no idea how many times I had to clean my own vomit off the floor... or the corpses."

Immediately, she covered her mouth, almost vomiting at the thought of it, but you laughed at her reaction.

"That was exactly my reaction! I grew up with a strong stomach."

Anya: "How did you get here?"

You finished removing the bandages from the man, looking at his skin, you sighed knowing full well that you would have to clean it, pus was already forming in certain areas.

Anya, upon seeing that, had to turn around and hold her stomach, trying to think of something else.

"If you want to get into medical school, you have to watch this, no professor will have pity on you for having a sensitive stomach."

Anya: "I've already seen it without the bandages... But... Today they look extremely bad... I'm sorry..."

Upon saying that, she took a deep breath and turned back again, ready to help you clean her wounds.

"...I was in charge of the morgue in just a few years, and one day, while preparing bodies... I saw him, my father on the table in front of me, ready to be open and empty like any other corpse.. Three shots to the chest, some guys had robbed a store while he was in, he tried to be a hero defending the cashier, and they shot him. The thieves fled with nothing in their hands... I got depressed..."

You looked at Curly, who was watching you attentively while you told that story he already knew.

"I ran away from home... I started with drugs... and all kinds of things to get money... I went to my mother's house just to ask her for money or to eat something, I didn't care how much she begged me to stay... I just... I couldn't feel good again, and I was destroying myself to know that I was still alive."

Anya: "...How did you get out of that?"

"Because of this stubborn one"

You smiled at Curly, who soon looked away as if he weren't paying attention to what you were saying.

"He found me shoplifting in a store, and instead of turning me in, he bought the things I was taking and invited me for a coffee" you laughed, recalling that moment.

Anya: "Seriously?"

"Then he was looking for me all over the city."

Anya: "Did he want to see you again?"

"I stole his wallet."

You paused to laugh at the memory as well, before continuing with the story.

"But he insisted on keep meeting with me, on helping me, and I ended up falling for his kindness... I started living in his house, he was never around because of work, I got a job as a dog walker to have my own money while I was recovering, and he was always making sure I was okay... After years... Finally, I had the strength to see my mother again... And she felt relieved to see me well... Ugh, you have no idea the scene she made when she met Curly, so happy that i found a good man, I wanted the ground to swallow me up."

Anya: "That still doesn't tell me how you ended up as co-captain."

"...Five years ago... Curly recommended me, I did the physical and psychological exams, the training, and since I passed everything flawlessly, well... That's how I ended up here!"

You scratched your neck, smiling somewhat embarrassed that it wasn't a great story of how you became captain on your own; that was the plain truth of how you had ended up there.

You finished putting the upper bandage on Curly, ready to continue with the lower part.

Anya: "We're going to have to be careful with the catheter for this part."

Immediately, they heard Curly's complaints when they were about to remove the bandages from that part.

"Don't be like that, Curly! Anya was the one who has been changing your bandages, washing them, and put the catheter in for you; there's nothing wrong with her seeing you again."

Anya: "I think he doesn't want you to see him..."

She said a little embarrassed, you turned to look at Curly, speechless, not knowing what to say to him.

"Okay, no problem, I'm leaving."

You raised your hands to get up from your seat and leave that room. 

Anya: "You shouldn't feel ashamed, she'ss your wife after all, she'll see you again someday."

Curly shook his head slowly, he preferred that you see him again when he was recovered.

[chososlittlestuttyboy]

·˚ [featuring] !! ' jing yuan x ftm reader !

cw — :: !! bottom!ftm!reader. top!Jing yuan omegaverse, alpha!Jing yuan, and omega!ftm reader, knotting, Words like cunt, pussy, clit, etc used for reader !! ::

_

not proofread so, i'm sorry for any spelling mistakes !!

"(nammmeeee)" Jing yuan pouted, "hm??" you replied, your eyes still glued to the book you were reading, as Jing yuan moved towards you, sitting on the floor next to you, "I'm sooooooo bored" he groaned, "you've been reading that book all day" he tugged on the book, yanking it out your hands "pay attention to me..please??", you looked at him.

"ok, ok, I'm sorry" you said, finally getting up from your seat, "Jin-" you were cut off by him kissing you, "I've been waiting for you all day.." you felt him grind his cock on your stomach.

he picked you up, walking to your shared bedroom "I don't think I'll be able to hold back anymore...you smell so good.."

once you got to the bedroom, he dropped you down on the bed, ripping off your pants "those were my favorite pants...." you frowned, "ill buy you new ones" he then took your boxers off, your cunt glistening with slick.

he moved down, until he was face to face with your pussy, "ah..your already so wet for me, my love..you smell Devine.." he licked your hole, "mmh..hah.." you whimpered as he ate you out.

"this is driving me crazy, you smell too good..." his cock throbbing with Impatience, he then sat up, picked you up, then placed you in-between his legs, pushing his fingering into you "ugh..mghh!!" "you're so tight~" feeling his fingers going in and out of you, shutting your eyes as you felt tears swelling up in them.

"haa..ah..!" you gasped, as he picked up the pace, this tip of his fingers hitting your g-spot, over and over again, your body twitched "s-top..!" you tried to push his hand away, "ngh! uungh..!" you cried out, but, he pulled his fingers out of you, "look" he said before you opened your eyes, "you're so tight my fingers went numb" he grinned.

"its all wet" he laughed, "you're just begging me to fuck you, huh?" Jing yuan's cock twitched, before he lifted you up and lined himself up against your hole, before he even slipped his cock into you, you were already drooling with a dazed expression.

jing yuan thrusted into you, causing you to gasp out, "it hurts..! jing!!" you cried, as he prodded at your cervix, trying to push pass it, "ow! n-no st-op!!! y-you cant!! ugghh...!!"

"you feel so good..." he kissed your cheek, before slamming back into you, his tip hitting your cervix over, and over again.

-

how long has it been?? it feels like you and jing yuan have been going at it for days already, you couldnt even form a coherent thought, you were just a crying mess, at this point , "my love, whats wrong?" he grinned, "its only 5:00...remember~ we still have all day" you couldnt even understand what he was saying, he then switched the position, resting his body weight on top of you.

"you're too he-heavy..!" he was going so deep that your leg was starting to cramp ! You couldnt take it anymore.. "uunghh...!!" your toes curled, and you tried to move away !! but he just pulled you right back !! "ah, ah.. where ya' think you're goin..." he caged you with his arms, "too...! d-eep.... hnngh...!!" you tightened around him.

he flipped you onto your back, a bulge noticeable in your tummy, he grabbed your hand and pressed it down on the bulge, causing you to tighten around he so hard that he couldn't even move.. "hey..." he cooed "its okay, calm down.." he spoke, but you weren't listening, "hey, hey, i said relax..." he kissed you, causing you to calm down, "atta' boy" he contined to ram himself into you.

-

you guys have been going at it all day now... it was 12:00 am when you first started, and now its 9:00 pm.. and you're barely conscious !!

"uuughh.....!" this felt like you 30th time cumming... ! "please....n-nomore..." you slurred on your words, and you tried to crawl away, but he just dragged you back onto him, "you keep saying that...but your body says otherwise.." he slammed into you.

"i...can't.....hah...mgh..!!" He slapped your ass, "shh...i know you want it...stop trying to..get away..." he grinded into you, as you scratched at his back, "Do you feel me?.. you feel my tip hitting your insides.. feels so good right?" You couldn't even answer if you wanted too, opening your mouth only led to more choked out cries spilling out of your mouth.

"fuck...i'm close again.." he whimpered, he pushes his hips forward, hitting that bundle of nerves that makes you arch your back, making you see stars.

"nnngh...." he moaned, as he knotted you, it hurt, but fuck it felt good, he kissed your neck, you started to feel yourself fall asleep, "lets just stay like this..." he said, your eyelids started to get heavier.

-

-

(you beat jing yuans ass for getting you pregnant)

[f1tales]

i beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker - mv1

that's that me espresso || part five

previous part || next part

pairing: max verstappen x ofc!piastri

summary: oscar’s older sister is a singer, who’s taylor swift’s opening act for the eras tour. she goes to a few races on her break. she meets max; who thinks about her every night now. much to oscar’s annoyance.

author's note: it's very dialogue heavy towards the end, but it's a videocall and idk how to write that any differently. i also don't really know where i'm going with this whole fic, but i'm having fun writing it. it's like a little break from other fics i'm working on. more serious ones, maybe? idk. hope you enoy x

face claim: sabrina carpenter

Ivy hurriedly got out of the car. She rushed towards Max, who was still standing in front of the building with his arms crossed over his chest. The expression on his face was hard to read.

"Max," Ivy breathed out in front of him. She tried to smile, but her face trembled as she stood in front of him.

The media had really put her through it with her relationships before. But she never cared before. She wouldn't let the media ruin what she was trying to build with Max. She couldn't let them do that.

"I know how cliché this sounds, but it's really not what it looks like!"

Max frowned as he looked from Ivy to Daniel. Daniel was standing just a few meters away from them, by the side of his car. Ready to jump in the car and speed off should the situation demand it.

"Can you please look at me?" Ivy grabbed Max's hands. She smiled, "I came to surprise you."

"Consider me surprised," he muttered.

Ivy looked at him with an unimpressed look on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine. Be like that. Don't hear me out then. Trust me, I have no problem getting back in Daniel's car and have him drive me straight back to Nice airport."

Ivy saw the way Max visibly deflated at those words. His arms dropped from the cross over his chest to the side of his body. He nodded, silently telling Ivy to continue. She looked around, they were still outside.

"First, we're going back to yours."

She turned on her heel to grab her suitcase from Daniel. She gave him a hug and thanked him for picking her up from the airport. She wheeled the suitcase behind her and dropped it in Max's hands before strutting towards his car.

Daniel laughed at the whole ordeal. It was a funny sight: Ivy, standing with her arms crossed next to the passenger side of Max's car and Max fumbling with his car keys to open the booth. Daniel waved at the pair when they finally drove off.

They drove in silence to Max's flat. They also rode the lift up in silence. Max opened the door for her, watching as she walked in. He trailed behind with her suitcase in hand.

Ivy sat down on the couch and patted the space next to her. She waited for Max to sit down next to her before she turned her body towards him.

"I don't know what you saw online, but I didn't fly all the way from Australia for you to just jump to conclusions about me and Daniel. I thought you knew me better than that. And if not me, at least Daniel."

Max stayed quiet as he looked down at his feet. She was right. He knew she was right. Yet, when he had seen those pictures online of Daniel and Ivy he couldn't help but jump to conclusions.

He released a long breath before looking at the gorgeous girl sitting next to him, "I'm sorry. I got so insecure when I saw you with Daniel. I know he's a lot better looking than I am and-,"

Before he knew it, Ivy had wrapped her arms around him. She placed a soft kiss on his cheek with a smile on her face.

"Don't ever say that again, okay?" Ivy firmly shook her head. "It's you I want. Not Daniel, okay?"

Max nodded, "okay."

Ivy grinned, "now, I've come to meet your fur children. Where are they?"

The Dutchman laughed as he stood up. He motioned for Ivy to follow him so he could introduce her to his cats.

Later that evening, Ivy was sitting on Max's couch. She had just showered and had changed into one of his hoodies. One she'd been wearing she he tactically left it for her at Daniel's farm weeks ago. Max was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the two of them.

She had her phone in her hand, Oscar's face filling the screen. "It was just a misunderstanding."

Oscar didn't seem convinced on the other end of the line, "you sure? I can ditch the MTC now and be there in three hours to kick his arse."

The older Piastri sibling rolled her eyes, "I'm older than you, remember? I think if anything, I should look after you."

It was now Oscar's turn to roll his eyes, "I'm always going to look after you. Especially after you know."

"I know."

Ivy gasped when she felt something jump up on the couch next to her. She turned her head to find one of Max's cats curling up to the side of her. She smiled as she started stroking the cat. She turned back to Oscar.

"Where are you going?"

Oscar looked rather smart for a quiet night in. Ivy watched him rummage around in his apartment. He appeared back in the screen, "just dinner with Lando," he mumbled as he put his watch on.

The singer grinned, "why you all dressed up for dinner with Lando?"

"Please, Vee," he groaned, "we're friends. And it's a fancy restaurant."

"Hm, the blush on your face says something different. And I've seen the heart eyes you make at him. The whole internet has."

Oscar cleared his throat, "right I think you of all people should know not to believe the internet." He looked at her with his eyebrows raised. "Anyway, I'm leaving now."

Ivy heard footsteps approaching, which must mean Max finished cooking. "Okay, love you. Say hi to Lily and Lando for me." She laughed as Oscar groaned again.

"Okay, bye. Love you."

Max sat down on the couch with Ivy. He handed her a bowl of pasta, keepig one for himself. "What was that about?"

The singer shook her head with a smile on her face, "I'll explain at some point." They ate in silence for a while with the TV playing in the background, the Dutch version of First Dates playing. Ivy turned to Max, "can I show you a song I wrote after dinner?"

The driver's eyes widened, "of course! I'd be honoured."

Ivy grinned, "it's called Espresso."

part six coming soon

taglist: @mastermindbaby @charlesgirl16 @a-beaverhausen @shelbyteller @anilovessadbooks

[purplecoffee13]

NFWMB - PART FIVE*

Summary: “Y/N hasn’t been able to stop thinking about what happened, but it seems like she is not the only one overthinking this time…”

Tropes: innocent!reader x boxer!harry

Wc: 3k

Warnings: smutty scenes, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, teeny tiny bit of angst ig

A/N: I AM BACK! I finished my exams today and I hurried home to write the rest of this chapter bc I have been itching to do so for the past weeks. I will try not to put as much time in between the next chapters, sorry about that! Love you all and enjoy!!!

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It had been three days. Three entire days since the kissing-in-the-car debacle that Y/N had participated in, and she still wasn't over it. How was she supposed to act normal at their class tomorrow? It had plagued her mind ever since she walked into her apartment that Saturday night.

All weekend, she had been contemplating different things. Saturday and Sunday, she was sure she wanted to never see his face again because she couldn't stand the embarrassment. But when Monday rolled around and re-thought everything after coming back from work, she realized that she should probably be mature and talk to him.

However, that resulted into her pacing around her room like a maniac with the phone in her hand, his number ready to dial. For the past twenty minutes she had been trying to convince herself to just press that call button and get it over with.

"C'mon..." Y/N growled to herself. She stopped in her tracks, took a deep breath, and finally called him. Her hands were sweating as the dial tone sounded over and over again, and the nerves she felt were sure to explode her stomach, but she kept breathing and waited for Harry to pick up.

The distant sound of a phone ringing took Y/N’s attention away from her own attempted call. Her heart began beating even faster as she walked towards her front door, and sure enough, when looking through her peephole, she saw Harry standing in front of her door.

As she took the lock off, Y/N broke up the call and putting her phone in her pocket. Harry's eyes were wide at the door opening all of a sudden, but he still managed to muster an awkward smile amidst his shock before he greeted her.

"Hi." He said quietly.

"Hi." She greeted back, unsure of what to do or say or feel. "uhm, what are you doing here?"

The question came out so soft, as if she was scared to ask it, not ready for the consequences his answer may bear. Maybe it was true; she had always had the feeling that her body was better at communicating her true feelings than her brain was.

"I need to talk to you." Harry said, his tone serious enough for Y/N's chest to start pressing on her, but a soft edge to it nonetheless. "Can I come in?"

She nodded, opening the door wider and letting Harry inside her apartment. He walked in and silently observed the place. Y/N felt oddly tense as she waited for him to take it all in, but he was quite quick to turn around. In the seconds that he stood there, entirely quiet, Y/N deduced the obvious: he was awaiting some instructions from her.

"Go sit on the couch, do you want something to drink?" She asked, already heading for the kitchen. Harry sat down like she told him to, but shook his head.

"No thank you, just wanna talk. Can you... sit down?" His difficulty to meet her eye and the apprehension behind his words had Y/N immediately head for the couch and sit down next to him.

"What did you want to talk about?" She asked innocently, like she wasn’t the reason this awkwardness existed in the first place.

"About last Saturday." He answered. You began to shake your head, cheeks already reddening from the shame that washed over you.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Just— hold on," He interrupted her. "I said something, that night, I can't help but think that you didn't take it how I meant it. And it has been eating at me all weekend because I'd hate to be the fool who accidentally rejected you."

Harry's eyes bored into Y/N's until she couldn't take the intensity of it anymore and looked down. He leaned forward, putting his hand on her leg. She studied his fingers as they slowly caressed her skin.

"Harry, it's okay. I misinterpreted it, you don't have to make excuses to make me feel better." She shrugged her shoulders, hoping to prematurely dodge any bullets that might have ended up with her crying otherwise.

"I'm not!" He protested. "I— Y/N, look at me."

When she didn't instantly comply, Harry's fingers traced up to her chin and redirected her face towards him, forcing her to meet his gaze. His thumb slowly stroked her chin as he took in every inch of her face.

"I wanted it." He said slowly, making sure she heard every word he says. Slowly leaning in, he added: "Really bad."

His lips hovered near hers, so close it was nearly sending her into a frenzy, but far away enough for him to assess her reaction on his movements. But Y/N was an open book, a reactive person when it came to these desires. She couldn't feign disinterest as she had never felt this strongly about someone in such a perverted manner before. Harry mouth slowly curled up into a smirk.

"Can I show you how badly I wanted it?" He asked, the heat of his breath reaching her face and making her core pulsate. The only thing Y/N could do was nod, and before she knew it, Harry's lips closed in on hers.

A soft whine escaped her throat as he kissed her, the desperation of her body unshielded under his roughly delicate touch. Nothing seemed to make sense as he slowly slipped his tongue into her mouth and pushed her back on the couch, nothing but him.

Harry leaned forward, not taking his mouth off Y/N as she sat against the armrest. He hovered over her, his body between her spread legs. One of his hands was holding onto her waist, while the other one kept him up by holding onto the armrest.

As their tongues danced around each other, Harry's hand slipped down from her waist towards her inner thighs, and Y/N felt her panties getting wet at the suggestive caresses of her skin. She put her hands on Harry's shoulders and pushed him back a little bit, their lips now apart. Still caught up in the heat of the moment, Harry mindlessly trailed his kisses down her jaw and then onto her neck.

"Harry." Y/N tried to get his attention, but his name sounded more like an erotic plea, and caused a growl to sound from his lips, followed by a rougher treatment on her neck. Her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head as his lips sucked at that sensitive skin of her, and a small whine fell from her as he bruised her neck.

"Ha— hmm... Harry!" She exclaimed. "S— stop."

Within a millisecond, or at least it felt like that, Harry's hands and mouth were removed from her. His face was filled with worry as he took in hers.

"Are you okay? Did I go too far?" He began asking, but she was quick to shake her head.

"No! It's just— I haven't really, done much of this before. I don't have a lot of experience and uhm, I just wanted you to know that before we... proceeded." Y/N explained, voice near trembling as she spoke. Harry's eyes softened, and his face pulled into a soft smile.

"Thank you for telling me." He said, leaning forward and giving her a kiss before pulling back, sitting up straight. "I just have one question, though."

Y/N nodded, big doe eyes staring right at him as that innocent smile transformed into a smug grin.

"Can I show you what I actually wanted to do last Saturday?" He asked, stroking her already spread legs. Before she knew it, the answer fell from Y/N's lips.

"Yes."

He let out a satisfied hum before his hands grabbed at her shorts and pulled them down along with her underwear, leaving her bare cunt to be exposed to him. Y/N blushed, feeling slightly embarrassed at how exposed she was, but the fascination that twinkled in Harry's eyes washed most of her insecurities away. She watched carefully as he leaned down and his fingers began stroking her folds.

Y/N held her breath in anticipation, curiously waiting for Harry to continue, and when he finally put his hands on her clit, she couldn't help but shift in her seat a bit at the tingling sensation.

"O— oh!" She shrieked when she felt Harry's tongue attached itself to her clit, his middle finger now paying more attention to slowly beginning to slide in and out of her. Y/N tried to control her breathing to the best of her abilities as Harry explored her sopping and pulsating core.

Y/N's mind had gone all fuzzy from the sweet feeling of his touch on her sensitive parts. It was impossible to focus on anything else than Harry, and even if it was, she wouldn't dare take her eyes off of him anyway. It was addictive, the way he was ravishing her like she was a culinary meal, and it felt glorying.

Harry temporarily removed his mouth from her heat, and looked up at Y/N before saying: "C'mon, angel. Tell me how it feels."

Her heart skipped a beat at the nickname she'd grown to love ever since the first time he said it, and she tried to control her whines as she responded.

"So— ah! So good..." She managed to reply, her knuckles turning white from balling up her fists in an attempt to not come too early. Harry's tongue swept over her clit in such an intoxicating way, and his now two fingers pumping in and out of her was only getting her closer to her inevitable climax.

Harry moaned at her verbal approval, and picked up the pace of both his mouth and his fingers, leaving her nothing but a whimpering mess under him. This was surely going to be the death of her, wasn’t it?

"Harry— I think I'm going to..." She ran out of breath before she could finish your sentence, and she began convulsing around him, legs trembling as her orgasm began to reach her like a wave building up. And then just like that, it crashed.

With a cry of his name and a few profanities that followed, the sensual waves of her release hit Y/N. The release was slow and long, and one of the most satisfying ones she'd ever had. Harry's touch stayed on her skin, helping her ride out her high.

When he finally backed away, Y/N was still breathing heavily from what she had just experienced. Wide eyed, she observed how he licked his lips before he looked up at her. She could've come again from the sight of that alone.

"D'you want some water?" Harry suddenly asked, getting up from the couch and walking over to your kitchen. She followed him with her eyes, mouth agape as he went through her kitchen cabinets until he stumbled upon two glasses and filled them with water. As he returned to the couch, he raised a brow, indicating that he was still waiting on an answer.

"Uhm, yes, thank you." Y/N stumbled as he handed her the glass. She took a few sips, scanning him while she drank. He was so casual all of a sudden, leaning back against the couch with his legs spread like that... there was something cocky about it and Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted to roll her eyes at it or jump his bones.

Possibly both, at the same time.

Y/N put her glass down and slowly crawled over to Harry, who sniffed a laugh at her wobbly movements on the way too squishy couch. She hoped it would at least come off as cute, now that her attempt at being sexy had been trampled by her own furniture.

As the laughter from both parties died down, Y/N took it upon herself to slowly start kissing Harry's neck. Her heartbeat rose when she felt him shifting in his seat, a pained sigh escaping his throat. Meticulously, she dragged her hand down his chest until it reached his pants, and she began unbuckling his belt.

She was surprised when she felt his hand pull hers away, and stopped her actions to see what was going on. When she saw his clenched jaw, she frowned.

"Are you okay?"

"You don't have to do that angel." He said, tilting his head a bit. She slowly shook her head.

"Oh, alright." She said, and felt a pang in her chest at the idea that she could've done something wrong. Harry took both of her hands, cupping his over them.

"I’d like to save it for next time." He suggested, the slight raise of his brow adding a certain playfulness to his reply. The hint of a smile on his face filled her with a warm feeling, and she quickly found herself nodding at what Harry had said.

“Plus, I have to get my beauty rest… I’ve got a long day tomorrow. I teach this private self-defense class, client’s got me working till late.” He joked, eyes beaming when a giggle fell from her lips. Y/N took her bottom lip between her teeth, stomach fluttering as she took in the painfully beautiful, funny, charismatic man in front—or well, under her.

“Really? Is she any good?” She teased back, brows raising in surprise when Harry nodded.

“Difficult to teach tho.” He responded.

“Why’s that?” Y/N questioned, genuine curiosity dripping from her tone. Harry took his eyes off her and shamelessly lowered his gaze to her body as his hands, that had dug into her waist, slowly began to trail down to her ass.

“‘S just so hard to concentrate…” He said lowly, and she felt her core heating up again at the sole sound of Harry’s voice. Her cheeks flushed alike at what he was implying, and she felt like an animal with the way her body reacted to him.

Y/N remained as quiet as she could, savoring Harry’s touch on her bare skin. She would have closed her eyes, had she not been too mesmerized by her face to do so.

Nerves swirled in her stomach as she watched Harry’s stare trail upwards again, only to stop at her lips. Gradually, he leaned forward, closing the gap between the two’s mouths. Y/N couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her when Harry put his lips on her again, and much like the touch of his hands on her, she relished in the way his tongue circled around hers, and she was surprised at how well their bodies captured the connection that she had been unable to explain in words.

It was safe to say that Y/N was disappointed when at last Harry pulled away, but she couldn’t be mad at him, not with that face of his.

Her eyes widened when he got up all of a sudden, hands still holding up her thighs in the few moments before she wrapped them tightly around him in response to the sudden movement. He sniffed a laugh, which Y/N was only able to hear because her arms were locked around Harry’s neck and her face was only a few centimeters away from his. The urge to smile almost prevailed over her shock.

Harry’s hands let go of Y/N’s thighs, and she lowered her legs in response, putting her feet on the ground again and removing herself from his touch completely.

As they walked towards the front door, Y/N found herself to be a bit gloomy. She didn’t want him to leave, he was so fun to be around. He made her not worry, which was a miracle because Y/N always worried. And she knew she’d go back to worrying and overthinking the second she’d be alone again, so the prospect of Harry going away was not the most fun. She had to remind herself that she’d see him tomorrow, though.

Y/N opened the door, waiting as Harry put on his coat. When he finally had, he turned to her one last time.

“Sleep tight, angel.” He said, and with that, walked right out the door. Y/N croaked out a weak ‘bye’, but she was pretty sure she’d heard the elevator ding by then.

It took her a minute to recover physically before turning off her lights in the living room and floating towards her bathroom, where she smiled like an idiot all the way through brushing her teeth.

It wasn’t until her head hit the pillow that what she dreaded came along again: that tiresome worry. Thoughts and scenarios filled her head as she lied in bed, watching the ceiling as if it would grant her answers, or peace.

It was as if, with Harry, nothing else truly mattered. Not necessarily in the corny, dramatic way, but rather in the sense that it felt like the outside world wasn’t that much of a factor in Y/N’s decisions, nor did she have the feeling that it should be whenever she was around him. But when he was gone, it would all start to matter again and suddenly she found herself doubting whether dating Harry would even be a good idea.

What would her parents think? What would Sophie think? Would she be viewed as less professional by her co-workers for dating her trainer? Would it impact Harry’s reputation—

She stopped herself. Probably not, considering Harry was a man.

It was with a frown that Y/N eventually dozed off into a deep slumber. Not even in her dreams she was safe from the anxiety that plagued her, a nightmare about being fired stirring her awake at around four in the morning. She was more exhausted when she woke up than when she went to bed.

But despite all of it, her body still buzzed in anticipation of tonight’s class…

Taglist: @meetmeatyourworst @mema10 @seafoamwhispers @namoreno @inkedskin @fangirl509east @mellamolayla @lizsogolden @prettydelilah @kierramcduffie @harry2121 @babegoals @hermionelove @bitchidontpost @lomlolivia

[ghostface-knight]

Soda tapped his foot against the creaky wooden floor. He glanced at the clock for what felt like the thousandth time. 3:30 in the morning. He had thought surely Ponyboy would come home as soon as he cooled off.

He wasn't expecting Pony to immediately forgive Darry. Hell, Soda himself hadn't entirely forgiven his older brother, who sat, head clutched in his hands, on the couch.

Still, he understood how Darry could have done what he did. When Pony didn't come home, Soda and Darry had thought the worst possible. However, it seemed that Soda's worry had translated into relief at seeing him brother okay, while Darry's had instantly become anger.

The silence of the house was unbearable. It was like the crack of Darry's hand against Pony's face had deafened the brothers to the world.

Finally, Soda shot up from his seat. Darry didn't turn to look at him.

"I'm looking for him." He said simply as he gathered his shoes and his jacket. He realized with a pang in his chest that Pony had run out without a jacket on. He must be so cold.

Darry remained silent.

"What, you're not even going to help me look?" Soda asked.

Darry finally looked up from his hands, and Soda saw tears brimming his eyes. "Do you really think he wants to see me?" Darry said gruffly.

Soda stilled. "No, I... I guess not." He turned on his heel, then walked out the door and shut it behind him.

He shook thoughts of Darry from his mind. Right now, he had to focus on finding Pony and bringing him home.

The first place he thought to check was the lot, where Pony and Johnny had apparently fallen asleep just a few hours prior. He walked across the gravel, softly calling Ponyboy's name. He received no response.

He wandered throughout Tulsa for hours, searching for his brother. The whole east side was eerily quiet.

As the black sky shifted into the pink and orange sunrise, Soda made his way back to his house.

When he pushed the door open and walked in, he heard Darry rushing from the kitchen.

"Pony! Pony, I'm real sorry, I never-" Darry trailed off when he entered the room, and saw Soda standing all alone. "Soda? Did you find Pony?"

Soda shook his head, exhausted. "I'm calling the guys. Maybe he stayed with one of them." Darry nodded, guilt ridden.

Soda called Two-Bit, Steve, and Dally, one by one, and none of them had seen Ponyboy since the drive in. In fact, none of them had seen Johnny either. Soda felt sick with the fear that rattled around in his stomach. The gang agreed to meet them at their house, and help them look.

Once they had gathered, they split up to cover more ground. It was decided that Steve and Soda would keep looking around the East Side, and Dally, Darry and Two-Bit would take Buck's car over to the West side, in case Pony had done something real stupid in his rage and fear.

Soda shuddered as he and Steve made their way around town. They started walking through the park they had played at as kids, when Steve spoke up.

"Little shit got himself into trouble again." He muttered. "He knows Darry don't mean it. He knows you two were worrying your heads off."

Soda felt the need to defend his little brother. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, Pony wasn't wrong. Darry shouldn't have blown up at him. He should have known-"

"Soda." Steve's tone was deathly serious behind him. Soda turned, and saw that Steve had stopped a few steps earlier. He stared past Soda with a look of utter disbelief, his eyes glazing over.

Soda whipped around to see what he was looking at.

First, he just saw the pool of red. Then, he noticed the forms surrounding it.

He wanted to run. But his body felt like it was moving in slow motion. He stumbled towards the first of the bodies -- the one in the pool of blood -- and dread sank in his gut. It was Johnny, lying there, with his eyes open wide and blood plastered across his shirt, spreading from a deep gash in the center of his chest. There was a pocket knife laying still in the pool of blood, and Soda realized with the jolt that it was Johnny's own knife.

That was when Soda set his eyes on the second figure.

He was slumped over the brim of the fountain, unmoving, with his face submerged in the water.

Soda stood very slowly, as if moving too quick could startle the situation into getting worse. He stepped around Johnny's body, unflinching when Steve started yelling at him.

He reached the second body, and grabbed him under his arms to hoist the figure out from under the water.

He was so heavy.

Still, Soda was strong. He lifted the body out of the water, and set it down on the pavement.

Soda sat down beside the body as it dawned on him that this boy was his brother.

"P- pony?" Soda stuttered. He grabbed Ponyboy's shoulder and shook him. "Pony, Ponyboy, wake up." He shook him harder. "Pony, what are you doing?"

"Soda..." he heard Steve call desperately to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Steve clutching Johnny's corpse. Soda didn't care though.

"Pony, get up! It's not funny, Pone, you can't-- you need to-- just wake up!" Soda's words were becoming increasingly strained, but he was scared to shake him to hard. He didn't want to hurt him.

"Jesus, Soda!" Steve shouted from right beside him. When had Steve gotten there? "Soda! Soda look at me!" Soda forced himself to make eye contact with his best friend.

"We're going to give him CPR, okay? I'll do the chest compressions, and you'll breathe into his mouth." Soda didn't quite know what was going on, but Steve sounded so sure of himself that Soda found himself blindly following his orders. Soda easily ignored the drying blood on Steve's hands. Johnny's blood.

Steve delivered round after round of compressions, between which Soda performed the rescue breaths. It went on for what felt like forever. Suddenly, Steve stopped. He fell back on his heels beside Soda. Soda gawked at him.

"What- what are you doing? Come on, we need to give him CPR, to save him, remember? Come on!"

Steve finally met his eyes. "He's gone, man. We can't save him."

Just then, it finally clicked in Soda's head.

Gone.

He turned his head back to his brother, in horror, as the sounds of shouting began to echo behind him.

Darry, he thought numbly and he grasped Pony's shoulders and pulled his baby brother's head and chest into his lap.

That was Darry, Dally, and Two-Bit. He knew their voices. Still, he didn't turn around. He just wrapped his arms around Pony's cold body.

Even though he never turned away from his brother, he could still hear every beat of the scene play out.

He heard Darry calling his name between strides, then he heard his big brother crumble to the ground as he tripped over something.

Something that, then, caused Dally to begin screaming and cursing and praying to God.

Funny, thought Sodapop. I've never heard Dally pray.

He heard Darry pick himself up from off the ground, and slowly approach from behind.

"Soda?" He called hesitantly. Soda didn't turn.

"Soda, is that-" he heard Darry choke. "Did you find Ponyboy?"

Soda nodded, even though he knew Darry couldn't see.

He stared down at Pony, clutching him even tighter as Darry made his way into his peripheral vision. Suddenly, Darry was on his knees beside Soda, trying to pry their littlest brother from his grip.

"Pony! Soda, let me see him!" Darry cried, but Soda just held on tighter.

Soda's eyes were open, but they saw no more than those of his brother he held in his arms. Still, he heard.

He heard Darry sobbing and begging to see Ponyboy.

He heard Dally cursing God.

He heard Steve and Two-Bit trying not to cry as they tried to no avail to pry their grieving friends away from the dead bodies of the boys who had been like their brothers.

He heard the voices of neighborhood kids and workers start to crowd around them to inspect the scene.

Soda looked up and saw the last remaining wisps of pink and orange fizzling out of the sky.

Pony always loved sunrises.

How bout Pony dies at the fountain WITH Johnny? Add a little twist, make it fun. The gang is looking for them and stumbles across them in the park or something. (Maybe literally depending on how dark it is and how much angst you want)

[winwintea]

dreamies meeting their kid for the first time + as a parent

GROUP ↬ ot7 dream x reader (ft. their child)

TAGS/WARNINGS ↬ some angst, LOTS OF FLUFF MY TOOTH IS LITERALLY ROTTING, spider-mark agenda is real, the child is sometimes a cockblock, haechan does some weird michael jackson-sherlock holmes roleplay idk it made sense in my head, jaemin going on shopping sprees, chenle never loses, ji... is ji.... (poor baby)

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ everyone say thank you to @https-lvesick for getting me on that baby fever stuff... like i hate children but i love children. iykwim... anyways this is meeting their kid for the first time, but i can't come up with reasons why they were separated so you fill in the blanks. probably angsty reasons i love angst.

Mark Lee

when you come back through that door with a child holding your hand, it’s him you meet first again, and the tears are already glossing his eyes over before you can say anything.

literally has no words when you smile at him gently, saying it’s his.

mark swallows nervously, before making his way to the both of you, holding the two of you in his arms for only god knows how long.

“i.. can’t wait to live my life with you both, my love,” he mumbles into your hair, ears slightly tinged, only causing you to laugh at his adorable antics.

as a father, he isn’t very strict, and he isn’t all that good in child-rearing, either.

but he tries! give him some slack — you have to keep reminding yourself of this when you see your child holding a sword?! 

and of course mark was in his halloween costume. typical.

“baby.. i can explain,” mark says calmly when you first find the two of them

well actually, three; it seems haechan was in on this little practice, though he quickly bolted when he saw you. good strategy.

“엄마, papa said he was iron man! he teached me how to be a superhero!” your child exclaims, flailing the sword around excitedly as your gaze only darkens.

“well, you see, i meant spider-man, but—” his words die down when he sees your unimpressed face practically dripping with murderous intent.

mark slowly kneels down to whisper something you couldn't make out to your child. the little one nods seriously, slowly putting down the weapon.

then, as seconds pass, mark immediately hoists your child up in his arms, running out of the room as both his laughter and your child’s squeals echo throughout the halls.

“mark min-hyung lee, you are so dead!” you scream, running after them.

“3, 2, 1 — I COULD DO THIS ALL DAY!” the two of them scream back, before bursting into laughter. they’re always in sync. It’s exasperating.

but you love it anyways

Huang Renjun

when you meet him at the door, there's a flurry of emotions clear on renjun's face, but his smile says it all.

“is it too much to say i’ve been waiting for you this whole time?”

regrets the fact that he wasn’t able to be a part of his child’s life for the first few years, literally becomes wrapped around your little one’s finger because of it.

so adorable and happy that he’s blessed with your lovely child, always smiling when he thinks of them.

literally makes the other members question whether or not they want a child too.

bonding time is painting of course!

usually ends up with all three of you cramped in the shower, you scrubbing furiously at the sticky paint on their skin.

“i’m sorry for having you do this all the time,” renjun's soft voice makes you forget why you were mad in the first place tbh.

massages your shoulders from behind you, causing your fingers to halt in their journey of rubbing some stubborn blue paint off your child.

“it’ll take more than that if you wanna make it up to me,” you hum, leaning back into his chest and gazing into his eyes.

your lips were just about to meet, when —

“ma, i'm not clean yet!”

damn. cockblocked by your own child.

you groan, renjun laughing as he picks up the pouting child with their arms crossed.

“don’t give 妈妈 too much of a hard time, okay?” he never forgets to take care of you above all.

Lee Jeno

when you walk through that door once more, nervously telling jeno that this child is his, you’re afraid of his reaction.

and when you finally gather the courage to do it? his jaw drops and he can’t stop staring at you nor the child and you have to help him sit and calm down.

“아빠?” your child asks, staring up at the still slightly panicked jeno as you hold your breath.

he stares for a moment, mouth wide, before finally, finally smiling, albeit a little awkward and rough around the edges. “yes, little one?”

very new to this whole parenting thing and can barely do anything without asking you first, so he feels bad quite often for having to lean on you so much.

plus he barely knows how to handle a sobbing child, nor can he entertain the child very well,

but you find that the both of them are quite content in each other’s presence as is. so that's a plus !

you'll usually find them in jeno's room together, while you need jeno to watch your child while you go out for an errand or something.

but when you see jeno, well, he starts to look ethereal as the sun shines through the windows in his room.

then, a gentle smile gracing his face as he stares at his sleeping child.

jeno utters your name, causing you to look up, only to find him tracing circles around your child’s soft skin. “딸,” he rasps out, cracking a bleary eye open and gripping their wrist softly. Then, he smiles, all sorts of soft and lovely and.. unguarded.

“You two.. are the best things that have happened to me.”

Lee Donghyuck

haechan tries swallowing back the lump in his throat when he sees you standing in front of that damned door, though to no avail as a tear slips.

starts full-on crying when you say that you’re back for good and that the child is his. it's okay, let it out hyuck. <3

“ah, crying like that on our first meeting… don’t you think your fath — i’m a bit embarrassing?” he asks, sniffling as he tries to muster a smile through his tears.

your child giggles, eyes crinkling while grinning. “no! mommy told me a whooooole lot about you, daddy!”

you have to intervene at this point to stop him from sobbing again.

haechan wastes no time in making up for what he’s missed, so he's definitely going to spoil this child every second that he can.

you’d always find the two of them either going out shopping or messing about at home

also probably just chilling in the comforts of his room, doing god knows what.

one day you were curious, so you peeked through a tiny crack of the open door.

genuinely concerned at what you saw.

was that a... trenchcoat on your child? the two of them were engaged in conversation as haechan started nodding with a serious look on his face.

“so, mj, do you think waffles make mummy happier?” your child asks, holding his magnifying glass up like a mic in front of haechan's face.

mj???

haechan strokes his chin for a moment, before answering, “seeing her reaction when we gave her the ones we bought yesterday, i dee-hee duce they do, sherlock!”

sherlock...?

“good deduck – deduction, mj! i thought so too.”

you can't help but snort as haechan grabs his crotch and poses while high fiving your child.

as stupid as this was, your heart literally melts. the two are far too cute for you, you having to calm yourself before walking in with the widest smile on your face. dorks. 

Na Jaemin

“i was hoping you’d be back, my dear.” his perfunctory smile is so smug that sometimes you just want to punch him in the face. “with a lovely little thing in hand.”

“Your lovely little thing,” you say gently, trying to ignore your anger. you were here to show your child to jaemin. jaemin looks at the two of you with surprise, the curves of his mouth inching upwards.

hey jaemin wasn't trying to be possessive... cause that's weird. but the way you emphasized the word 'your' made his breath hitch. we can unpack that later though.

for now, na jaemin is a certified sugar daddy

jaemin is wrapped around the little one’s finger, his rotten spoiling being the effect of not being in your child’s life for a good while, and, of course, his indispensable regret for having you come back to him.

you asked jeno the whereabouts of your lover and your child, only for him to give you the look, responding that they were out yet again, and are probably not coming back without a few shopping bags in hand.

okay something needed to be done about this. so you decided to conduct a harmless experiment.

placing a few coins on one side of his desk, a toy in the middle, and a beloved fruit on the side. after explaining to him that it’s to see what your child’s fate would be — picking between fortune, fun, and, well, snacks, you think — he simply leans back, interest shining in those eyes of his.

but your child pushes all these away in a second, opting to hug the wide-eyed man on the soft armchair behind the desk.

“and what.. does this mean, ma chérie?” fuck him and the words he's picked up from traveling abroad. but jaemin looked honestly confused as his hands slowly wrap around your child’s.

you smile softly, “isn’t it obvious, silly? the little rascal loves you more than anything.”

he laughs. he doesn't get it. preparing for yet another shopping spree. why do you even try at this point?

Zhong Chenle

oh my god. when he first sees you after years with a child, his child, grasping your hand, chenle has to literally take a quick second to calm down cause he’s so angry.

no, not at you, of course, he would never. but at himself.

he wasn’t there for his child, for you, and god, even if he were, would he have been a good father?

“Y/ — 甜心,” he starts, running his fingers through his already messy bed-head hair and staring at you with eyes that practically scream "please hug me, i'm insecure"

“how am i supposed to take care of a child when i couldn’t even take care of you?”

but don't worry, after many reassuring words and warm hugs, chenle's finally okay and back to his normal self, holding your child up and giggling.

maybe this was a wrong idea cause now you have to take care of a manchild and a child.

is surprisingly very gentle with your child because he honestly doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. (just because he has a nephew does not mean he knows how to parent a child.)

also very grounded and doesn’t fall for cute little tricks as much, so out of the dreamies, he’d end up becoming one of the better fathers.

also cause he never loses. and no way is he gonna lose an argument with a child.

“不行。” “爸爸, pleaaase?” “no. 不可以。”

chenle seemed to be holding a chocolate bar high above his head, steely gaze fixed on your young child trying to ignore their pleading puppy dog eyes.

“妈妈说 no chocolate, right?” your heart warms when you realize he remembered you scolding your child yesterday, though you can’t help but to feel a little bad.

“chenle,” you say, both their heads turning towards you. “how about you give the little baby some chocolate and we can eat the eggs i just made in the kitchen?”

the way both their eyes shine almost identically is so fucking adorable.

Park Jisung

??!?>!?!>?>!?@#?>(*#(@*(*#!?!@?

“that’s… mine??” “what?” “… it?” “it?” “the.. child?”

actually malfunctions.

jisung is very flustered, for lack of better terms. he was always considered the baby maknae of dream, but his own child? lord, help him.

you... him.... the baby... it or they.. came out of you??? what.

gets awfully flushed whenever he’s carrying his child around the building. everyone tries to stop and coo at the baby, + chenle and haechan have decided to make his life a living hell cracking up jokes whenever they can.

jisung is surprisingly good at getting your chaotic child to sleep with his bedtime stories, which are usually all his big yap sessions.

“and did daddy get that bruise on his forehead because he slipped while chasing uncle chenle and uncle haechan?” you question the two of them, wondering what they had been talking about earlier.

your child nods, bright eyes sparkling and grinning, “아빠 also said, ‘get back here, you devilish imbeciles!’”

oh fuck.

your accusatory gaze turns towards jisung, who averts his eyes, holding an ice pack to his bruising forehead, trying to shield himself from possibly getting more bruises.

“i-in my defense, they were—”

“one more time, park jisung, and i’m changing their legal godfathers to the two imbeciles you love and appreciate so so much.”

his eyes widen in shock, “you wouldn’t.”

“try me.”

now jisung is a grumbling mess when the two idiots are around his child, but the lack of chasing them around can be counted as an upgrade, i guess.

TAGLIST ↬  @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @ldh0000 @galacticnct @peterm4rker

[hesperisms]

Sylus and reader just started their relationship and she can’t keep up with sylus’s high sex drive

// Relentless Conqueror

"As for what's been keeping you up at night, well, I'm more than enough..."

// summary: you finally admitted to Sylus that you had feelings for him, but you had no idea that getting to see his softer side would also show you how much he deserves his title as a Relentless Conqueror...

// content warnings: 18+ (mdni), dominance, established history, pet names, oral sex, vaginal sex, creampie

// a/n: anon, anon, anon, what have you done to me with this ask! Sylus has been rattling around in my brain since this one came in, begging to be unleashed! hope you're pleased <3

likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated!

Sylus' large hands wrapped around your body possessively as you stood at the bathroom counter, his left hand snaking upwards under your oversized shirt to cup your breast, rolling, kneading, squeezing tenderly while his right hand splayed out over your stomach, holding you firmly against him, the pads of his long fingers pressing into your soft skin. "I woke up and you weren't there, kitten...I didn't like it." Sylus purred in a husky, newly awake gravel tone that dripped down your neck as he nuzzled his lips against your ear.

You blushed and reached down to rub your hand over the back of his hand on your stomach, melting into his firm chest pressed against your back. Slipping out of bed about twenty minutes beforehand while Sylus softly snored on his stomach, face down in the pillows, white hair a fluffy tumble was the first peace you'd had to yourself in almost two days. You knew that Sylus was an incredibly driven man, you'd seen his file in Hunter HQ that referred to him as The Relentless Conqueror but you had no idea that would also apply to his sex life. In hindsight, coming to know Sylus and falling for him as you had, you were naïve to think it wouldn't.

Sylus was a man of quiet confidence; you knew anything he committed himself to, he committed himself fully and this newly blossoming relationship with you was something he was giving his all. His passion for you was insatiable, an almost otherworldly hunger had roared to life within him once you'd told him that you wanted to be his. Every deep passionate kiss felt like he wanted to suck the air from your lungs and breathe you in, every possessive shield of his broad chest against you felt like he wanted to meld yourself with him.

Sylus had his other half back.

Sylus was whole again.

The rush that came with knowing that you were his again, that missing piece of his existence slotted back into place had surged his libido and he couldn't get enough of you. He already had a higher than normal sex drive, but the rush of that sweet honeymoon phase that had him so very love-drunk on you had turned his dial into overdrive and your body was struggling to keep up with his appetites.

Sylus had spent a lot of time watching you, studying every little expression and your body language intimately in his time re-discovering you, so he picked up on it in the vanity mirror when you winced slightly as he squeezed your breast. He switched things up and stroked the underside gently instead, kissing your neck and murmuring softly to you as he side-eyed your shared reflection. "I'm sorry sweetie, I know you have a sensitive body," he begins. "Have I been too much for you these last couple of days?"

You blushed, cheeks flushing and you smiled, reaching up to cradle his head against your neck, stroking his hair and he closed his eyes contentedly at the touch. "I know you're making the most of our time together before I have to head back to Linkon tomorrow, but I'm already dreading the suspicious looks I'm going to get from my teammates if I have difficulty sitting down comfortably at the conference table on Monday." You admitted to him with a gentle sigh.

"It's a very large conference table..." Sylus murmurs with a serious tone. "Should I schedule a meeting with your boss so that I have a reason to come ravage you on top of it in front of all of them? You won't have to think up an excuse, that way?" He chuckles wickedly, his warm hot breath fanning over your ear as he teases the idea of outing your relationship publicly. You give his cheek a gentle tap in a mock slap and he huffs, turning you around to face him.

Those hawkish crimson eyes of his glitter with a mixture of mischief, adoration and unbridled lust as he stares down at you, brushing the backs of his knuckles over the side of your cheek tenderly. He slides his hands down under your ass and you instinctively wrap your arms up around his neck, pulling his large frame down into a hug and he melts easily under your touch pecking kisses on the crown of your head, sniffing your hair. "Your scent...I want it to belong to me." he growls as he squeezes your backside and you feel a shiver of anticipation run down your spine.

You bite your lip, tilting your chin up to look up at Sylus, matching that hungry gaze of his with curious eyes. "If I promise I'll be gentle, can I have you again, kitten? I can't smell myself on you strong enough yet, I haven't finished marking you as mine." Sylus whispers, fingertips dimpled into the flesh of your ass cheeks possessively. Your breath catches in your throat at his words and despite the worn-in ache between your thighs from a long weekend of his significant girth stretching you out, you feel your heat start to build, desire stirring in your hips.

Sylus notices your bright eyes darken and your breath adjust. He knows he could carry you off to the bedroom right now and you wouldn't stop him, but he needs to hear your consent; his ego needs you to voice your desire for him, to hear that sweet voice of yours give him authority to lose himself in you. You smile at him seductively and look up through your lashes at him, nodding.

"Take me."

A predatory wolfish grin hits his lips at hearing you voice his claim on you and he scoops you up into his arms, striding confidently back into the bedroom with you and laying you down on the silk sheets of his large bed. You slide the oversized shirt off over your head and toss it at him, aiming for his face. With a cocky grin he flicks the tip of his index finger and a tendril of his evol swirls angry black and red, knocking the shirt away from him.

Sylus slides his silk robe off his shoulders, letting it pool at his feet and he stalks towards you on the bed like a big cat striding down its next meal, eyes locked on yours as he climbs between your thighs, brushing the tip of his nose against yours as he holds his weight above you. "Tell me that I'm the only one you want, Sweetie..." he purrs at you with a seductive, needy tone, fingers brushing your hair away from your neck so he can lean down to sink his mouth on your delicate skin, licking and sucking at your rapidly racing pulse, teeth lightly grazing before his tongue laps the pain away. "Tell me that this beautiful body of yours is mine to worship."

You tilt your head back, closing your eyes and letting your lips part slightly, a soft moan escaping you. He doesn't stop his ministrations on your neck, tongue swirling tantalizing patterns across your throat, but you feel the vibration of an impatient moan he lets out in response to yours.

"Do I need to tell you Sylus?" You laugh with a breathy whisper. "Or is my entire body singing it to you every time you touch me enough?"

His lips burn a trail down your throat, over your collarbones and down onto your chest, your nipples already firm and aching to be touched. Sylus wraps his lips around the sensitive bud, tongue lavishing slow wet curls across it, lovingly kissing it. You gasp in pleasure and close your eyes and as you do, he tilts his face up to watch you while he suckles at you. After a couple of minutes his warm wet mouth swaps sides, making sure he's dedicated attention to both your breasts.

"I'm not quite convinced," he hums, vibrations through your nipple on his tongue making you whimper. "I definitely think I need to hear it if I'm going to stay in control of my urges."

Feeling bold, you reach down and snake your fingers through his thick hair, smiling sweetly and scratching his scalp with your nails. "Do all Crows talk this much, or just mine? I believe I was promised worshipping." You say cheekily, crying out in shock and pleasure as his teeth find your nipple and press down gently in response.

Pulling back from your breasts, he releases your nipple with a wet suck and grins up at you, his devilishly handsome features all angles in the soft glow of the bedroom lamps. He lifts himself up on his knees and makes a show of bowing to you, hand pressed to his heart like he's making a solemn vow. "Let me put my lips to better service of My Lady then" he smirks, dropping himself backwards off the edge of the bed to comfortably rest his head on your inner thigh.

His thumbs rub gently down your delicate folds, your juices quickly slicking them and making their movements sound slick and sinful. Sylus' hot breath tickles your wet heat and he murmurs quietly "so wet for me already Kitten and I've barely touched you...maybe your body is trying to tell me something."

"I think the signs might be there if you squint hard enough." You nod in agreement with him, biting your lip with a soft genuine laugh.

Your laughter stokes his fires of passion for you and it takes all his self restraint not to bury his face in your heat intensely. He had promised you he'd be gentle, that he'd take his time with you, ease the aches he had rut into your body over this past few days and while Sylus is always a man of his word, it took everything he had to keep that promise when you looked so perfect beneath him. He could smell the sweet tang of you and it called to him, made him feel like he was home.

Sylus' tongue explored your soaked heat teasingly, gently, featherlight flickers across your aching bud in a cursive language you didn't comprehend. Jolts of raw desire and need coursed through your walls and deep into your abdomen with his deliberate attentions. You moan his name and arch your back and he presses his large hand flat on your belly, encouraging your coiling orgasm to build more intensely. He's setting such a slow and intense pace that time feels like it has slowed down for you both, you feel like he's been lapping at your folds for what must be an hour when he finally introduces his fingers to explore your needy pussy.

Dripping wet under his tongue, your swollen walls offer his long fingers no resistance, drawing him in with needy clenches as his skilled tongue coaxes sighs and moans from your lips and his fingers slide in and out of you. He feels the subtle tremors, the way your walls begin to firm around his fingers and he knows you're so close to unravelling on his tongue, if he just pushes you a little further...

Sylus' deep rumbling moan against your clit makes your nerves explode in pleasure and you buck against his mouth, crying out his name in shuddering shaky breaths as your orgasm cascades in rhythmic clenches of intense pleasure through your body, leaving your thighs trembling with aftershocks and your heart rate pounding like a war drum in your chest.

He pulls away from you and looks up at you, smug satisfaction written across his face as your orgasm drips from his lips and down his chin, glistening. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and sucks on it, savoring the taste of you and offers you his slicked fingers to suck on. You take them greedily, tongue lewdly slurping up your own juices and he watches with an intense stare of love for you, cheeks flushed red, eyes glistening and pupils blown out, feeling so accomplished that he caused you to come undone this way.

"I'm so lucky I'm the only one that gets to see you like this, Sweetie."

It comes out huskily, his emotions getting caught in his throat for a moment, manifesting your pleasure so important to him.

He withdraws his fingers from your mouth and leans over to kiss you passionately, lining his aching erection up against your sopping folds. "I'll take it slow, okay?" he promises again, sliding his tip through your slit to coat himself with your juices before easing the head in gently. Your whole body shivers underneath him and you shift your hips, lifting your legs up and wrapping them around his ribcage to grant his girth more access.

Just as he promised, Sylus takes his time, inch by inch slowly slipping into you until you're so full of him that you feel the ache of your tired walls starting to settle and get used to his significant size. You've never been more full, he's so big and his tip presses insistently up against your cervix in a way that's almost painful if he thrusts too hard. He begins to roll his hips down into you, building a soft but intense rhythm, hitting all your most sensitive spots so very deep inside.

He grinds into you, holding his weight just off you so that he's not suffocating you and you moan deeply as you look down between you to see his length plunging in and out of you, his hips keeping a steady pace. His eyes are closed and his mouth hangs open ever so slightly as he chases your shared pleasure. You cup his cheek and brush the pad of your thumb across his lip and he opens his eyes to gaze down at you, shimmering ruby eyes overwhelmed by blown out pupils.

Sylus moans against your lips as he feels you tensing "if you're close just let go, I'm right here with you my dove" and it's enough to send you keening into your second orgasm, your walls rippling and clenching down, meeting the resistance of his hard flesh. His pace doesn't relent as he strokes you through your pleasure, feeling yourself gushing onto the sheets as the lewd sounds of him slapping into your wetness echo in the room.

As his eyes lose focus and his hips start to hitch, you wrap your legs tighter around him, trapping him deep into you and you slide your arms up around his neck, pulling him down so his head is buried in the curve of your jaw. Your ear is full of his hot ragged breaths and his moans and you lean in, purring back in his ear.

"Gooooood boy....you're everything I want Sylus".

His head snaps backwards with a loud, gutteral moan and his eyes widen in shock for at your unexpected praise as he starts to seize inside you, orgasm flooding your walls in scalding bursts as he tries in vain to keep thrusting. Panting heavily, Sylus lowers his weight down onto your hips a little and props himself on his forearms, staring into your eyes, searching you for any discomfort, kissing your lips gently when he doesn't find it.

"That was a dirty trick Y/N," he laughs, kissing you again. "It was a dirty trick and I loved every second of it."

[wherewritersgotodie-blog]

Knee Socks- Tate Landon x reader

warnings: smut, unprotected piv (safety first), oral (recieving), hot and sweet, the 90s

don’t skip this one it’s good

To be clear, Tate didn't have a crush on you.

When you first met, smoking outside Westfield in between classes, sure, he totally thought you were hot. Definitely the prettiest girl in Los Angeles, including the stupid actresses and models. You were a totally real girl, raw and real and beautiful. But he saw you as a friend.

He never thought about have sex with you. He respected you way too much for that shit-- he wasn't going to fuck up what you guys had. You were his only friend, and even though you were pretty popular, you had confessed many times that you only felt like you could really be authentic around him.

It was true: his bedroom was the only place you could be real.

You'd climb the stairs after school and put on vinyls and talk about Kurt Cobain and Morrissey. All of your friends listened to pop music on the radio. Sometimes you felt like Tate was the only person with any depth in the whole city.

"Why do you hang around Langdon?" your friends would say, “He's a total headcase. Freaky eyes." You wouldn't even bother to respond. He didn't care what anyone said about him. You didn't either-- you got him. That's what mattered.

After you started dating Connor, the captain of the football team, you made less time for Tate. He missed you, but he wasn't jealous. He was happy that you were happy.

When you still came to his house, he was only grateful.

You didn’t ring the doorbell anymore. You just came in through the backdoor, which was always open, and run up the stairs.

Sometimes, you got to his house before him if he had something to do after class-- an errand or a detention.

So, you flipped through his records until he came home.

"Hey, Miss Popular,” he said, "I didn't think you were coming over today."

"I'm always over on Wednesdays," you say with a smile.

"I thought you'd be with Connor," his smile leaves an impression in his cheeks. "Hot and heavy, you two."

You laugh, covering your face. "Whatever!"

His eyes scan you. A Nirvana concert t-shirt, red shorts and white knee-high socks. He bit his lip. You don't see this.

You place a record on the turntable. You sit on his bed as usual. "Today was shit," you say.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Well, Connor says I smoke too much, and I said, Whatever, 'cause it's whatever, right? but then he fucking threw away my pack," you say, rolling your eyes.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry," he says. His eyes wander to your thighs again. They look really smooth today, he thinks to himself. "Do you want a cig?"

"Yes," you groan, "Please."

His eyes wander your face for a second. He smiles, then hops up and grabs two out of the pack on his dresser, along with his lighter. He holds out the lighter and you take a drag, looking into his eyes. "Fuck," you whisper.

Were your cheeks always this pink?

"What did you do today?" you ask him.

"Eh. I got detention, but I snuck out," he says.

"Yeah? What for?" You walk over to the window, leaning on the windowsill. He stares at your ass and your thighs as you're slightly bent over. What the fuck was it about you today?

"Uh- I got caught making out with Stacy in the locker room," he laughs.

You snap your head to look over your shoulder. "Stacy? Like, cheerleader Stacy?"

"Yeah," it's his turn to cover his face.

"I hate her," you mumble, returning to the window.

"Yeah, well, she's a total bitch. She told Mr. Donnahay that I kissed her, and he believed her, of course, cause he's a creep," he says.

"Huh,” you say. “Well, good on you, you kissed the prettiest girl in school.” He furrows his eyebrows. You put out your cigarette and hop onto his bed. You lean back on his pillows, knees bent, hands folded between your legs.

Your hair was falling around your face in this disheveled sort of way and your skin looked ultra-soft. And those socks, he couldn't stop imagining them wrapped around his back. Like, what the fuck was going on today?

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you say, brows furrowed, eyes wide.

"What?"

"I don't know. Weird," you say.

"Oh, I," he says. "Did you do something with your hair?"

You smile, and shake your head. "No. Are you okay?"

He stares another moment. Your eyes are so bright in the light and your cheeks are rosy and you're looking at him so intently, head tilted slightly, and your legs are open with just the length of your thigh showing and his chest is tight and he can't help it, he closes the gap between you and kisses you intensely.

He expects you to pull away, but to his surprise, you don't. Instead, you wrap your hands around his neck and whimper into his mouth.

Because, whether he felt it for you or not, there was one thing about you that he totally didn't know: you were absolutely, sickly in love with him.

See, you had followed him out to the courtyard when he went to smoke. You forgot your lighter on purpose. You chatted him up about your favorite bands cause you knew he liked them, too. You asked him to do your biology project together because you also knew you'd suggest to study at his house.

You pull his shirt over his head before he even gets a chance to get his hands on you. You pull away to look at him. He puts his hands on hips and adjusts himself to hover between your legs.

"What about my boyfriend?" you whisper. God, you were a good liar.

"Forget your fuckin' boyfriend," he says, diving back into your mouth.

And you always did whatever he said to do. So you forgot your boyfriend. And you let him take off your shirt. You weren't wearing a bra. He stares for a few moments. "Holy shit, why didn't I do this sooner?"

Good question, you smirk to yourself.

He kisses you again, then detaches from your mouth less than half an inch to whisper, "Can I take off your shorts?" It's so breathy you can barely understand him, but you nod.

He takes your shorts off and leans his head down between your legs. He kisses you over the cloth of your underwear and you throw your head back. He kisses you down your thighs, biting periodically, which earns from you a choked whimper each time. He presses his face into your heat, groaning. "Can I?" he whispers.

You only nod again.

He pulls your underwear down your thighs and over your socks.

He runs his tongue up the center of your heat and you groan. He runs circles around your sensitive spot, whispering into you, "Godohfuckbabybabybaby..."

He tilts his head up, wipes his mouth and leans up to look at you. He then traces his fingers down your stomach and presses his fingertips into you. You moan again, and now with his face level with yours, you wrap your arms around him.

He works you, pressing his fingers into you and pulling them back out to circle up, and he repeats that a few times, until you are so worked up that the flush in your face has reached your chest and you are undeniably out of breath.

"Please, Tate," you mumble. You finish on his fingers and he smiles, laughing happily as he falls onto his back.

You take a moment to ride it out, then whisper into his ear, "Can I take your pants off?"

He looks over at you, smiling wider now, and nods. You crawl down to his waist, smiling up at him. He's rock solid. You pull his boxers and denim down, both at once. You're absolutely not surprised to find that he is huge.

You straddle him, and he grabs your hips, then runs his palms up to your waist, brushing your tits, then back down to your thighs. Your body is even better than he imagined.

“For the record,” he says, “You’re way prettier than Stacy.” You beam.

Then, you lower yourself on him. He groans. He's too far away from you. With all his core strength, he pulls his body up at once to lean nearly upright against the wall behind his bed.

You didn't even expect this and it hits your core in the dirtiest way. He pulls your body into him, so your stomach, your waist, your chest are all pressed against his. He forces your head into the crook of his neck with an arm wrapped tightly around yours, the other one wrapped around your waist. You are surrounded by his heat, his sweat. You can barely keep any rhythm now, you're so entirely caught off-guard by the intense embrace.

You're completely overwhelmed and he knows it. God, he knows you. So, he begins to thrust himself off the mattress into you. At that point, you're done for. You're almost embarrassed how quickly you come undone after he starts. "Tate, holy fuck," you whisper. He doesn't even respond. He just pets the back of your hair down, comforting you.

When you pull yourself together, you attempt to roll your hips on him again. This clearly shocks him, because he groans your name out loud. You peel yourself off of him, pressing your hands into his chest as you roll yourself into him. He mumbles a string of incoherence, eyes closed. You can tell he's almost there.

He opens his eyes once more, and you can tell that he's about to come, and he whispers, "Fuck, baby,can'tpullout," he whimpers.

"It's okay," you say, and you feel yourself close again.

And he does it again. He pulls you tight to his chest, almost as if he's trying to make your bodies into one. Does he do this for everyone or only you? You'll ask about this later.

"I love you, baby," he says as he trembles underneath you. One of your arms reaches down to grab his hand and he squeezes it, hard.

When you are both finished, you peel yourself off of him.

"I love you, Tate," you smile. He smiles too, and pulls your back to press against his chest.

That's when you realize that it's definitely just for you.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Pull the Thread

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky used to be so in love and so… ignorant of the roles you had to play, which lead to you breaking up. But that didn’t seem to keep you away from each other since you now act as Bucky’s nurse whenever he gets hurt. Based off my mini fic here.

Warnings: mentions of child death

Stitched Together | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

When you wake the next morning, Bucky and Sam are gone. Their sleeping areas are made up and a note is left on your kitchen counter.

Thanks again.

See you around.

-B

PS. call me if you ever need anything

Beside it is a cup of coffee and a stack of bills. You count it out and chuckle in disbelief. Bucky left you two hundred dollars for helping him out.

You grab your phone and type in Bucky's number. You insert a picture of the money along with the text:

You: you didn't have to pay me.

Bucky: I wanted to. For disturbing your night and for your work.

You: It's fine, but thanks anyway.

Bucky: Hope you have a good day, sweetheart. :)

You pause. Sweetheart. You can't help the way your heart beats a little faster when you read that word. He used to call you that when you two were dating. It was never "babe" or "honey". Always "sweetheart".

You feel conflicted. You want to scold him for calling you that...but you also really miss being called that by him.

You decide to not respond back at all, since you still need to eat before you head into work.

_____________

Bucky shows up at your place again a few nights later. This time, he's alone and with a bullet graze on his side.

You frown at him as you let him into your apartment, "Is this going to be a habit of yours?"

He snorts, "You think I purposely get hurt just to come and see you?"

You shrug, "I don't know, Buck! We don't really know each other anymore, so I'm not sure what you'd do!" you snap at him. He looks at you with surprise and you sigh, "Sorry. It's been a long day and I wasn't expecting you."

"I can go. I'll-I can find someone else to help me."

"No. You're here already. Might as well get it over with." You gesture to the couch and he sits down as he waits for you to come back with your first aid kit.

Bucky starts to rethink things. It's true that he didn't purposefully get shot at so he can see you. But he definitely didn't hesitate to start heading to your place as soon as things were handled. He just misses you.

You come back with gloves on. You have Bucky take off his shirt so you can fully assess the wound. Just a bullet graze. He lays on his other side as you clean his wound.

Again, you work in silence. You're focused on getting this done quickly and efficiently so you can go to sleep.

As you dress his wound, you say, "You should get some antibiotics or pain relievers so it doesn't get infected or if the pain becomes too much. Change the dressing often. Make sure there's minimal movement."

He nods, "Alright. I can do that."

You help him sit up and pull his shirt back on.

Once he's dressed, Bucky looks up at you, "Maybe you and I could make an arrangement."

You look at him with a cocked brow and he stammers “Not that kind of arrangement! Business! Strict-Strictly business. You take care of me and my people when we get hurt. I pay you for your efforts and we’re out of your hair until the next time.”

"...I don't know, Bucky."

"We'll be discreet. I promise. I'll make sure everyone knows not to blab about you and to only come if it's an absolute emergency."

"I'm sure you can find an actual doctor or something to help you. Why me?"

"Because I trust you."

"Bucky, my dad is the chief of police. You shouldn't trust me."

"I know you wouldn't tell your dad. Because despite how long it's been, I still know you care about me."

You cross your arms over your chest and look at him defensively, "And how do you know that?"

He gives you a cocky grin, "Because you wouldn't have helped me that first night."

"I was doing my civic duty. I'm in the healthcare field. It's my job to help people no matter where they come from."

"Okay. Fine. All I'm saying is that you do good work and I don't want anyone else fixing me and my guys up, but you. And, of course," he pauses to pull out his money clip, picking out a few hundred dollar bills. He holds it out to you, waiting.

You weigh out your options and then take the money. You agree, because, despite what your father tells you and how Bucky treated you in the past, a part of you still loves him and will always love him.

"Alright. I'll do it. Just let me know when you're coming just so I'm not surprised every time there's a knock at my door."

"Will do," he mumbles, grunting as he stands to his feet, "Get some rest. I'm sorry you had a shitty day."

"It-It's fine. I just-" you pause and start feeling choked up. You let out a sob and you lean forward, burying your face into Bucky's shirt.

His arms immediately wrap around you in a protective, comforting hug, "I got you, sweetheart. It's okay. Let it out." His heart breaks when he hears your muffled cries.

"We lost a patient today. He had cancer. He was only eleven," you mumbled into Bucky.

His arms around you tighten, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. That's heartbreaking. But I'm sure you did everything you could to make sure his last moments were good, right?"

You slowly nod and step away from him. You wipe at your eyes, "Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, Y/N. Cry on me whenever you like," he gives you a soft smile, "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. I've just been keeping that in all day. Thanks, Bucky."

"No problem. You're a great nurse, Y/N. I just know that those kids are lucky to have you take care of them. I know I am." He kisses your forehead, "'Til next time." He murmurs before heading to the door.

"Hopefully, not any time soon."

He shoots you a grin, "No promises." With a wink, he's out the door. You go over and lock it in place. You lean against it and let out a long sigh. Your heart is beating fast again.

_________________________

It's one of those nights where you dad comes over after a shift and you two have dinner. Neither of you felt like cooking, so you ordered takeout instead. You eat out of the styrofoam containers at your small dining table, pausing in-between bites to chat.

"Work's been okay?" your dad asks before shoveling food into his mouth.

You swallow your food, washing it down with water, "Yeah. We lost a patient earlier this week and I-I can't seem to shake it."

Your dad nods in understanding, "I get it. It's never easy and it never gets easy. And you can't even do anything but continue working after it happens. You gotta push through it. In our line of work, it's important to care for others, but also important to care for yourself too. Got that, bug?"

"I know, dad. Thanks. What about you? You said earlier that work's been super stressful lately?"

Your dad gives an exhausted sigh and leans back in his chair, "Yeah. Been working closely with different units. For years there's been word that the Barnes Family has been the head of several crime operations happening around the city. They've been good about keeping their tracks covered, but since George Barnes' passing, I'm hoping to see his son slip up." Your dad gives a disappointed shake of his head, "Still can't believe you were friends and dated his son."

"He wasn't a bad kid, dad."

"Yeah, up until he started being a prick to you. Good thing you broke things off with him when you did."

You slowly nod, "Yeah. Good thing."

___________________________

You hadn't seen Bucky for two weeks, but he'd been texting you here and there during that time.

He sent you pictures of dogs he'd seen while out and about, would ask about your dad, even ordered food for you when you said you were too tired to eat. It was really sweet and kind of him, but you couldn't help but still have your reservations about Bucky.

Did your heart skip a beat every time you received a message from him? Absolutely. But were you still anticipating on the day he'd turn around on you again? Yup.

You kept things friendly, but also not too friendly. You didn't indulge in anything too personal or detailed. For all you knew, Bucky could be using you to get information about what your dad had on him. As much as you wanted to think Bucky wouldn't do that, you had to keep yourself accountable and aware.

[sjylouvre]

You’ve Got This (SJY)

PAIRING ➤ sim jaeyun x afab!reader

GENRE ➤ fluff

WARNINGS ➤ kisses, reader is overthinking, stressed out, proofread but i'm sorry if there's mistakes! (Imk if i missed something pls!!)

WORD COUNT ➤ 1.2k

MASTERLIST

The night before your big presentation, the room feels like it’s closing in around you. Notes are scattered everywhere—on the bed, on the table, some even in your hands—but no matter how much you read them, the words just won’t stick. The reality of speaking in front of over 50 people looms over you, making your stomach twist with dread. Each time you try to rehearse a line, your heart races, and it’s as if the very air in the room is too thick to breathe.

Jake’s been watching you silently for a while, his gaze soft and worried. Finally, he stands up, crossing the room and gently places a hand on your shoulder, his touch instantly grounding you. “Hey, babe,” he says softly, his voice like a balm against the tension in the air. “You’re doing that thing again.”

You blink, glancing at him with wide, slightly panicked eyes. “What thing?”

“The thing where you get so in your head that you forget to breathe,” he says, smiling a little as he rubs small, soothing circles on your shoulder. “Come on. Sit down with me for a sec.”

He leads you over to the edge of the bed, where he sits down beside you, keeping his arm around your shoulder, his other hand moving to rest gently on your knee. You feel the warmth of his touch, the steady rhythm of his breaths, and some of the tightness in your chest begins to ease.

“Jake… I don’t think I can do this,” you mumble, barely above a whisper, your eyes fixed on your notes. “Every time I think about all those people watching me, I freeze. What if I completely mess up? What if I stand there and just… go blank?”

Jake’s hand moves from your shoulder to your back, his palm pressing softly against you in a comforting rhythm. “You’re not going to mess up. You’ve been practicing for this for weeks. You know this material inside and out.” His voice is steady, gentle, but filled with conviction. “And even if you do stumble, it won’t matter, because everyone in that room is there to listen, not to judge.”

You bite your lip, still feeling the knot of worry that refuses to leave. “But what if I forget everything? What if I just… blank out?”

He takes your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Then you take a deep breath, and you remember that you have a whole room of people waiting to hear something incredible from you. If you need a moment, take it. You don’t have to be perfect.” His eyes meet yours, filled with a warmth that makes your heart stutter. “You’re going to do amazing, because you’re you. And that’s enough.”

You close your eyes, his words sinking in, but the anxiety is stubborn. “It doesn’t feel like it’s enough, Jake… I’m so scared of disappointing everyone. Disappointing… myself.”

He moves closer, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you fully into his embrace. “Hey,” he murmurs, his voice a comforting whisper in your ear. “You won’t disappoint anyone. Least of all yourself. You care so much about this, and that’s what’s going to make you shine up there. People can tell when someone’s passionate about something.”

You can feel your heart begin to calm just a little, lulled by his closeness, his steady breathing. “I just… I’ve never felt this kind of pressure before. It feels like all these expectations are suffocating me.”

Jake tightens his hold on you, one of his hands moving to gently rub your back. “Then let me take some of that pressure off you. How about this? Tomorrow, when you’re up there, I’ll be right in the front row, smiling at you the entire time. Every time you look at me, you’ll know you’re not alone.” His voice is so sure, so steady, that for a moment, you let yourself believe it too.

You pull back slightly, looking into his eyes, and find a soft smile spreading across your face. “You really believe in me that much?”

He grins, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “More than you know. You’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met, and I don’t just say that to make you feel better.” He tucks the strand behind your ear, his fingers lingering just a little longer against your skin. “I know you’re scared. And that’s okay. Being nervous just means this matters to you.”

You sigh, feeling a mix of relief and lingering nerves. “What if I lose my place? What if I stammer and forget where I am?”

Jake’s hand moves to cradle your cheek, his thumb gently brushing over your skin. “Then you’ll pause, take a deep breath, and just keep going. Nobody will judge you for needing a moment.” He tilts his head, his gaze tender. “You’re human, babe. You’re allowed to not be perfect.”

You close your eyes, leaning into his touch, feeling some of the weight finally lifting. “It’s just… it’s hard to believe that everyone else will be as understanding as you.”

“Well,” he says with a playful glint in his eye, “if anyone isn’t, I’ll just have to take a stern talk with them afterward.” He winks, and you can’t help but laugh, a sound that feels freeing, even if just for a moment.

“Thanks, Jake. I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smiles, leaning in and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Luckily, you don’t have to find out,” he murmurs, his lips warm against your skin. He wraps his arms around you again, pulling you into his chest as he rests his chin on top of your head. “Now, here’s the plan. You’re going to get a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow, when you walk out there, you’re going to remember that you’re not alone. I’ll be right there. And when you finish, I’ll be the first one standing up, clapping my hands like a madman.”

You laugh softly, imagining Jake cheering for you in the audience, his face lit up with pride. “You’re really going to clap like a madman?”

He chuckles, nodding with a mischievous grin. “Absolutely. I might even embarrass you a little by yelling out how amazing you were.”

You shake your head, feeling the last bits of tension slip away, replaced by warmth and gratitude. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it.” He kisses you again, this time on the tip of your nose, and you feel your cheeks flush. “Now, promise me you’ll at least try to sleep? You need your rest, or you’ll end up overthinking everything again.”

You nod, feeling genuinely relaxed for the first time that evening. “I’ll try. But… will you stay with me?”

He smiles, pulling the covers back and guiding you to lie down beside him. “Of course. I’m not going anywhere.” He wraps his arm around you, pulling you close as you nestle against his chest, his warmth surrounding you like a cocoon. “Just close your eyes, okay? And remember… you’ve got this.”

With his hand gently stroking your hair, his steady heartbeat in your ear, and his quiet, comforting presence beside you, you start to feel the last remnants of fear melt away. As you drift off, his words echo softly in your mind: You’ve got this. And somehow, with him beside you, it starts to feel like the truth.

© sjylouvre 2024, do not copy, steal, remake or brand my content as yours.

[brotherwtf]

I submit this and humbly request your imagination of a scenario

wait wait this got me thinking about frat boy/preppy Gale, someone who's a little shit kind of like how Gale is in canon, quick one liners to easily make fun of people all while looking so innocent

John who's kind of shy, doesn't really talk to people and keeps to himself, but he opens up more with his friends, some sort of tutor and that's why he's always in the library when Gale finds him

Gale's failing english, point blank period, and he needs to save his grade or he's going to get kicked out of his frat, so he finds John in the library and asks for his help.

and John's nervous because he has a couple of classes with Gale, knows he can be outright cruel if he wants to be, knows he has a beautiful girl on his arm, so he hates himself even more when he gets those stupid teenage butterflies in his stomach whenever he sees Gale, all cleaned up and proper and Johns already so far gone

but Gale's a sweetheart, always kind and quiet with John and while he sometimes teases him it's all in good fun, and Johns always a blushing mess whenever Gale sits next to him and he almost can't concentrate on the assignment they're working on

sometimes Marge will tag along, offer up some unhelpful commentary, maybe she mentions something about Johns glasses "they do nothing for your face, hun" and when Gale gives her a look she feigns innocence "what? I'm just stating the obvious," and Johns up and leaving, trying not to look behind him and have his heart broken again

the next time John meets with Gale he wears his contacts, he almost doesn't recognize himself in the mirror but maybe Marge was right, maybe they were the problem, and he hates to admit that he wants Gale to like him the way he likes her

and when Gale sees him he looks confused, like he's trying to place something until he asks "where are you glasses, John?"

"I decided to wear contacts, Marge was right they're not doing anything for me" John shrugs and Gale furrows his eyebrows together

"I thought your glasses made you look cute," and OOPS John's a fucking goner because now he can't talk and he's rendered speechless and Gales acting like nothing even happened as he very casually pulls out his book and waits for John to get his wits together so he can actually be doing what he's supposed to

and it keeps going on like this "that sweater makes you look cute" "I really like those pants Bucky" "did you do something different with your hair? it looks good" all while John is secretly telling him to shut up because he can't handle all of the compliments lest Gale wants him to pass away from all of the compliments

Gale says one day that he broke up with Marge, couldn't handle her negativity, says he likes how positive John is, and then it's quiet for a moment, Gale fiddling with the pages of his book, and Johns freaking out before Gale just kisses him on the cheek, smiles with the faintest blush and runs out of the library before John can even say anything

he texts Gale after, asks if everything's all right, and Gale doesn't respond, doesn't respond for a couple of days and John worries that their friendship is ruined, blames himself for all of it even though Gale technically kissed him first

he's walking back to his dorm one night when he hears someone call his name, and he turns to find Gale running after him, panting and looking like he just ran across campus

"John, I'm really sorry, but I gotta tell you something. I like you, like I like you a lot, and I'm sorry if kissing you fucked up our friendship, you don't ever have to talk to me again, I just felt like I had to say something before you left," Gale confesses, and it's like John was hit with a fire hose

and he can't quite help himself, doesnt know what happened or what came over him, but he grabs Gale's face and kisses him, almost desperately, and he can feel Gale smile into the kiss, hates but doesn't hate how much he loves how it feels to finally kiss him, after so many hours of quietly watching him, it feels so good

anyway I have this sweet hc where Gale just lifts John's glasses whenever he wants to smush his face against John's, pulls them off so he can sloppily make out with him and I just think that's neat :))