#if i make one fake photo for every week of the year then i could potentially have 52 fake photos by the end of 2024 FJDSKL

[dandyshucks]

tfw you wanna make a scrapbook page for ur F/O but you have to draw all the photos that'd be in it -_-

[adore-gregor]

Room decoration tips are very welcomed

[biteyoubiteme]

redlightdesign

fem!reader x hyunjin 

synopsis: you get tattooed by your favorite tattoo artist. 

warnings: !!!🔞!!! tattooartist!hyunjin, tattooing, needles, pain, oral (f!rec), use of teeth, overstim, multiple orgasms (f!rec), squirting, fingering, pussydrunkvibes, subspace kinda, prob forgot some sorry 

wc: 5.2k

an: I want a new tattoo </3 feedback appreciated! [m.list] not proof read sorry ;-;

You didn’t think you would ever get a consolation let alone an appointment with redlightdesign. For over three years you have been submitting a request anytime their books were open. You set timers for when the form dropped to make sure you were one of the first to be seen but everyone was doing the exact same thing. 

redlightdesign would make an announcement that the submissions were closed an hour later saying they were booked solid for the next three months. The process repeats itself and every time you pray you get a response. 

Thirteen forms later and you finally got an answer. Your dream tattoo will be underway in a matter of weeks. You made sure to keep the perfect space open for the piece. Not a single artist is the right fit to do your idea justice the way Redlightdesign could. 

Before you read the email you didn’t even think you would ever be picked, your thigh would just always be bare for the possibility that never would come to fruition. But sitting in a coffee shop on a Sunday morning avoiding finishing your homework for Monday's class you jump on the opportunity to check your phone when it dings. Post notifications for redlightdesign on since you started following them. Every time they announced open books or a dropped appointment you jumped to put yourself up for the running. You remember the magazine article Redlightdsign had been featured in that started your obsession. The anonymous tattoo artist is based in Seattle and New York, traveling across the states to get a wider audience. Not that they needed the help, they were globally known, with people submitting forms all around the world, purchasing plane tickets after they confirmed an appointment. 

It was stiff competition and the anonymity of the artist was sacred to each client. There was barely any information about Redlightdesign on the internet besides the finished product, and the address to their studios was only given out just before your appointment. Once the details of the New York studio had been doxxed online and redlightdesign had stopped working for a year, packing up and shutting down in well deserved retaliation. When they came back to their socials they made it clear the next time they wouldn't stop for a year but quit entirely. No one shared any information after, only stating that Redlightdesign was one of the nicest people they have ever been tattooed by and a photo of the beautiful work after. 

But there sipping on an almost empty drink avoiding work that needed to be done you felt your pulse race just like every other time you've submitted a form. Only this time your stomach bottomed out seeing the email that popped up in your inbox a few minutes later. 

h.rldesign/gmail.com Hi, I love your idea and sketches. I think this would transfer perfectly in my style. If we are to do the piece on the thigh at the size you want I think it's best we split the work into two appointments. My open slots for this would be January 9th and 10th. Let me know if these dates work for you and then I can get started on designing and cleaning up your idea. -redlightdesign 

even just knowing their email address was shocking enough, seeing a response could have sent you into a coma. If Redlightdesign needed you on the 9th and 10th you would do everything in your power to be right at their door. You didn't care if you had to call in sick, you would put on the most convincing fake cough known to man; you would sell out stadiums with the performance if need be. 

You couldn't type a response fast enough, needing to send in a confirmation just to know it was solidified. Within seconds you got a link for a deposit to hold the dates and a promise that Redlightdesign would be working on your piece asap. You were too excited to even think about your work anymore, sitting in the coffee shop staring down at your phone in disbelief. 

It was only a few days later when the first drafts of the tattoo you would be getting were sent over for you to approve. You could tell the work had been drawn in a sketchbook and scanned to send in an email, the charcoal lines and highlights showing the detailed work. It was everything you could have hoped for, redlightdesign taking the amateur rendering of your idea and turning it into the masterpiece sitting in your inbox. They promised to have perfected versions ready when you arrived early on the ninth, reminding you that they would transfer it into the stencil and use a pen to finish drawing the finishing touches to make sure it flowed with your body just right. Make sure to eat before the appointment and don't wear any lotions on the tattoo area. Take care to remember we can take as many breaks as you want you have the day booked up with me so no need to rush through just to get it over with. 

You made sure to dress appropriately. A pair of shorts you didn’t mind getting ink on in case any decided to ruin them. It was cold the morning of the ninth, a drizzle setting in as you made your way towards the address you had been sent before you had woken up. Even just seeing the street name and knowing this whole time you’ve been a fifteen-minute walk away from Redlights studio was bizarre. How many times have you driven by the building without ever knowing? 

The email with the address had said the door would be open and to take the stairs up to the loft. The separate space on the ground level was a bakery, the sign flipped to closed. But as you felt the first droplets of rain you pulled on the handle for the door only for it to not budge. You check the address again to make sure it is right, you can see the windows to the studio above but the curtains are pulled shut. You were running over the email you could send to redlightdesign, reading it over once more when someone reached past you making you jump. “holy shit you almost gave me a heart attack,” you breathe your phone pressed to your chest. 

The soft laugh of the person beside you is muffled behind the black medical mask they wear, long dark hair hanging on their brow leaving only smiling eyes glancing over you. “I'm sorry I was running late and didn't make it in time to beat you here,” they push their key into the lock twisting until it clicks, painted nails wrapping around the handle to hold the door open for you. 

You give a weak thanks stepping into the little hallway leading to the stairs waiting for them to step in and follow. 

You're trying hard not to make it seem like you're staring at them but it's almost impossible not to. Right in front of you is the person whose identity has been hidden from the public for years. You've tried to imagine what redlightdesign looked like since you read that magazine article. Now with the early morning mist still stuck to their hair you were seconds away from knowing exactly what they were like. Watching how their long fingers flipped over the keys looking for the one to unlock the loft door, how they used their shoulder to push open the door turning back to give you smiling eyes, waving you in. 

They moved around to pull open the long cream-colored curtains, the gray light pouring in revealing the space. The walls have tacked up charcoal drawings, painted landscapes, and oil pastel flowers. A worn brown leather couch pushed to one side, heavy white blanket pushed back like someone had taken a nap there against the throw pillows. Tattoo bed next to rows of inks and past designs. On another wall a cluster of polaroids, stepping closer you can see its every tattoo that redlightdesign has done here. You're excited to see ones they haven't posted on their socials, so distracted you don't hear a closet door opening and the wheeling of a cart behind you. “I wanted to be set up so we could get started right away but,” when you turn you see them shrug. The view outside of the waterfront off in the distance matches some of the paintings done during different times of the day. 

“It's okay I can wait, we're booked all day right?” 

“yes that's right,” they go through their bag pulling out a large sketchbook, “here take a seat and we can go over some of these together,” 

they sink into the couch pushing back the blanket to make room for you to follow. Your thighs touching before they hand over the sketchbook. You're amazed by the craftsmanship, and the detail put into each variety of the tattoo idea you have given them. No other artist has given you so many possibilities, maybe one of two but a whole spread dedicated to small details was never on the table. redlightdesign had taken time working through this with passion. “Wow,” you breathe not knowing where to look first. 

“do you like it? It's a big thing, a tattoo of this size, and I wanted to make sure it really had all the elements you wanted in it while also not being too chaotic and messy. You see this one has less shading and seems more open but this one is heavy-handed if you're into that kinda style. I see you have other work done on your arms and if you want to go that way style-wise I think this one would be perfect,” they point at the one you've been focused on knowing that it was exactly what you wanted. 

“It's amazing, they all are, I'm so impressed redli-“

“Hyunjin, you can call me Hyunjin,” they chuckle, “I should have introduced myself earlier but I was late and it slipped my mind I'm sorry,” 

“no, it's okay thank you hyunjin,” you try the name in your mouth, “I think this is exactly what I want, better than what I could have imagined,” 

“great I'm happy to impress let me get this printed in a stencil and we can add anything else after we find the right placement,” you watch as they stand moving to the corner with a desk, you can't see their face but know they've taken their mask off as they turn on the printer. “Do you live around here or was it a commute?” 

“oh I live right up the street, I was surprised to see how close it was to my place actually,” you say over the sound of the scanner. 

“that's good, sometimes I have people coming from all over it's fun to finally have a local visit,” 

“I would have come out to New York if that's where you would have been,” you admit. 

“I haven't been out there in a while, they are doing construction on the street the studio is on so I've been located here for a while now,” he states pulling out the stencil sheet. “I did a few different sizes to start with,” 

he turns around and you're shocked at how beautiful Hyunjin is. In all the time you've thought about redlightdesign never did it cross your mind to account for prettiness but if you did your scale would be broken. You're still seated when he comes over and kneels in front of you. 

“Can I?” he asks looking up at you, your hands in your lap covering your thighs.

“oh yeah sure,” you're flustered lifting your hands away. 

“left or right?” he asks, holding two of the stencils over each leg. 

“right,” your hands sinking into the couch as Hyunjin wipes his thumb over your bare thigh. He shows you the three different sizes and you decide on one before he asks you to stand in front of the mirror so he can place the stencil on. 

“Here,” he mutters, being gentle to get the placement right in the first go. “We can always print more if you don't like it here,” he blows cool air over the purple lines traced on to make sure it's dry enough for you to move. He slides his hand behind the pit of your knee tugging your leg. You reach out to steady yourself with his shoulders, the backs of your hands feeling the tickle of his long hair hanging past his ears. He lifts your leg enough so that your foot is resting on his thigh, his hands slipping over your skin checking it looks good. 

You love the way he's found the perfect spot on your thigh so that it flows with your body, “I think you got it first try,” 

“Look in the mirror first just to make sure,” he lets you go, pulling himself to stand behind you so that you can see yourself. 

“yes it's perfect,” and he nods, grabbing a purple pen. 

“finishing touches then,” he gets back down in front of you lifting your foot back to his knee so that he can steady you. The marker is cold on your skin as he draws, adding lines and shading in spots to make the work blend better. When he blows on the wet lines of ink you shiver especially when he draws on your inner thigh, your skin so sensitive you swear you could imagine his fingers tracing shapes instead of the pen. “Perfect,” he states, giving your knee a tap letting you know he's done. “Let me set up and if you need the bathroom before we start I'd go now. I have water and a kettle for coffee over under the desk, and we can stop for lunch around let's say twelve or one-ish?” 

You nod, taking your seat on the tattoo bed. He's set it up so that you're slightly leaned back but still sitting up. You watch him pull on black gloves and get all of the inks and needles ready, following a system you've seen done before. He clicks on a stereo the soft song playing in the background just loud enough for us to talk if we wanted to or just to listen. you adjust in your seat when you hear the sound of the tattoo gun whirring, hyunjins free hand stretching your skin in preparation, “The hard part will be around the knee so let's get that area out of the way,” 

you nod watching as he starts, the familiar burn of the needle digging in but not too painfully. He was right that it was worse than some of your other tattoos but not unbearable. What distracts you is how concentrated he looks leaning over your leg, hair pushed back behind his ears but one strand hangs across his forehead, the corner of his lip between his teeth. 

He starts to ask you small questions about yourself, the conversation leading to learning about him and how he got into tattooing. He talks about his art and the little things he likes. Both of you are so invested in one another that you don't even notice how far you've come in the day, lunch already rolling around before you know it. He's gotten through more than half the outline when he starts the loose wrap to keep it clean while you go out for lunch. The bakery is just downstairs offering lunch deals you can't refuse and when you get back upstairs both of you sit on the couch and continue your conversation. Giggling over nothing much but being comfortable in each other's company more than what you could have asked for. 

redlightdesign could have been a total dick but you were blessed enough to get someone so genuinely kind and talented. And when you got back in the chair to finish the day's session you were sad to know that tomorrow would be the last time you saw Hyunjin unless you somehow got another appointment. The idea in it of itself was making you dread leaving. 

“Could you tie my hair up?” he asks lifting his wrist up to you, a hair band waiting for you to take off. You lean over taking the tie from him and running your fingers through the dark strands. He hums as you brush the hair from his face gathering it all to tie into a ponytail. “thank you,” he nods letting the end bob up and down, a sweet smile teasing his lips before he goes back to the linework. 

When he finally declares you done for the day you sigh, his thumb smoothing over the ends of the tape he's put to hold the wrap he put over your thigh. His finger slips across your inner thigh making you jolt harder than when the needle was to your skin. “sensitive?” he asks and you nod, not wanting to think too much into it. You were definitely sensitive but not from the pain, watching his long fingers work over your skin didn't put the cleanest image in your head. 

He starts to break down his workstation, cleaning up and wiping everything to disinfect. While you put on your coat he asks, “Do you want to get dinner?” you turn to make sure he is not on the phone but he is in fact asking you, “I know this great spot a block over it's not that far a walk if you're up for it?” 

“Sure,” you nod and he rubs the back of his neck. 

“You know if you're not busy or anything I don't usually ask clients out for dinner but we were having a good chat and you know if you don't want to,” he drags on his ears pink, it was cute to watch him flustered. 

“I'd love to go to dinner with you hyunjin,” you smile following him out. 

You share an umbrella as you make your way to the small cafe-style restaurant, outdoor seating covered with a canopy so you won't get hit by any rain. Sitting across from one another, Hyunjin asks to see your other tattoos. You lay one arm down on the table, hyunjins fingertips ghosting over your skin as he traces the lines of all your other work. “I think I've seen this one before, did you get it from Felix? Or what's his username…”

“youg.ink?” you nod, “I actually got it because I saw you mentioned them before and it introduced me to their work. instantly fell in love with this when he offered it up,” 

hyunjins not even paying attention to the tattoos anymore as he lets his fingers glide over your smooth skin. Most times after a client was done for the day in his chair he walked them to the door, waved goodbye, and worked in the studio on the next person's design. Most times he had people who he didn't mind not seeing again but you and your laugh, your gentle conversation, made him want to break his own rules for once. He walks you home after dinner and promises to see you tomorrow at the same time. 

When you show up for your second session you're double fisting two iced coffees; the door is already unlocked as you make your way up the stairs. Hyunjin is sitting at the desk with headphones on sketching away before he sees the movement in the corner of his eye. He gives you a big smile, all teeth and is so cute. He tugs his headphones off letting them hang around his neck, “you got me a coffee?” 

“Maybe or maybe I have a caffeine addiction,” you joke, handing over his cup. You look over to see what he's working on and he leans back to give you a better view. 

“The next client wants their back done, it will be spaced out over the next four months. first sessions tomorrow,” 

“I wouldn't even know where to start on something that big,” 

“the same way I started yours,” he looks down at your legs, the wrap still in place only today you're wearing a skirt instead of shorts. The only other clothing item you felt would give him space to work today. Hyunjin looks back to his sketchbook, shutting it and standing. “let's get you up on the chair and get started,” 

you follow his instructions, sinking back into the chair and letting your skirt bunch between your legs to expose your thigh. Hyunjin starts to set up his station, pulling on his gloves after flipping to the sketch of your design to have to glance at while he works. “might hurt today with all the shading if you need any breaks let me know we can go as slow as you need,” he peels away the tape before cleaning your leg with a towel and watered down soap. “It already looks good,” he nods, pressing around the tattoo. 

“I think I can handle it,” 

“Okay, we can work the bottom to the top again today, get the area closest to the knee and get the most painful bit first,” 

and you think you can handle it and you can for the most part but the dragging of the needle over the still red outline from yesterday is painful today. Your hand bunching in your skirt as you remind yourself to breathe. You let your head roll back in the chair not able to watch anymore, focusing on the music playing, the dull hum of the tattoo gun usually comforting you but now a reminder that you're here for a while. 

hyunjin is trying to concentrate, he's great at what he does, but what's testing him is how you're flashing your panties at him. he was going to say something, bring up a conversation about anything but when he looked up, a simple glance he was face to face with the dark grey fabric, the outline of you silencing him. You didn't even notice, your neck exposed as your free hand not holding your skirt gripped the armrest. 

Tattooing people made nudity and almost nudity normal. It was why Hyunjin preferred his private studio so that he could make people feel comfortable, it was better than having someone who wanted a hip tattoo strip in a shop where anyone could watch. But with you sitting in front of him he forgot that he shouldn't look so close. Because instead of ignoring the view he was imagining ways that he could make your pain more bearable. Imagining how if he reached over and brushed where he knew your clit would be waiting you wouldn't be moaning in pain. 

It's not until lunch that your skirt is let go but it's done the work of keeping Hyunjin hard for the entirety of the progress he's made toward the tattoo. When he sprays the tattoo down with the soapy water beads roll back up your leg because of the way the chairs are angled. The cold water feels great against your hot skin and Hyunjin apologizes for the mess passing you a paper towel to wipe any that got too far. You slightly lift your leg to wipe your inner thighs, the movement flashing Hyunjin again only this time the droplets of water had dampened your panties. The gray fabric was dark where he had been fantasizing they would be. 

He doesn't even want to think about standing from his stool knowing that the second he does he will have to adjust himself only drawing attention to the fact he is very hard. He tries to make a list of things in his head as he wraps your thigh. To think about how it's almost over, that you will be gone in the next hour or two but that only makes it worse. You would be gone when he was this needy? He wanted to make an excuse to have you come back for another session. But it was quite obvious he would be dragging out the appointment when he only needed to do a small section when the two of you were done with lunch. He could have waited and finished, pushed your lunch back, and waved goodbye but no. 

He swiveled his chair away from you, taking a sip from his almost empty cup of coffee as you slid down the bed to stand. Hyunjin takes a breath and prays you don't notice but it's the first thing you see when he turns, the strained outline not very well hidden. You pretend to look out the window, feeling your cheeks get hot. All you can think about is if it was your noises that did it, all the whimpering wasn't usually how you handled tattoos but this one was the biggest piece you've gotten, and didn't know two sessions would make your usually composed self break so easily. it would explain the silence compared to yesterday. So you toy with the idea, how far would he go if you made yourself available? 

You grabbed lunch together, hyunjin putting a pillow over his lap to steady his plate of food but both of you knew that wasn't the real reason. And when you were back in the chair you intentionally let your skirt roll up this time. It doesn't help that he's now working on the part of the tattoo closest to your center, how he wraps his hand around your thigh, pushing your legs further apart to reach a spot on your inner thigh. Gloved fingers brushing over your panties for the smallest second, your hips sinking into the seat to keep yourself from moving. Hyunjin noticed but needed to get through the rest of the tattoo, if he stopped now he wouldn't know when he would start again. Your lip between your teeth he watched as you tried to close your legs again to block your exposed panties, now wet with your slick and nothing else. He could see the spot and almost ripped his gloves off as soon as he finished his work. But now he was teasing you. Cleaning the tattoo down and wiping it down. He doesn't even bother with the normal photos he would take right away instead putting on the second skin to protect the tattoo. As he smooths the thin film over your inner thigh he lets his fingers slip up brushing against your center to see your reaction. 

Your head rolls to your shoulder watching him through your lashes as he takes off his gloves and tosses them on the cart. He lifts the armrest on the tattoo chair before reaching behind your knees to pull you to the edge of the seat so your legs are dangling off the side. “how is it someone can make the prettiest sounds and sit so still for me?” he leans down and plants a kiss on your tattooless thigh, “because all I could think about was how I wanted to see your legs shaking for me while you whined like that,” 

you tried to draw your knees together but he was in the way, kissing up your inner thigh, nipping at your skin with his teeth. When he reached your skirt he flipped it up with a lazy hand giving you no time before his thumb was over your clit rubbing a harsh circle over the fabric. You felt the shock run up to your stomach, your voice breathy as you whimpered his name. He followed the wet line down the front of your panties before hooking his finger along the seam to pull them back. He wanted one taste, needed one taste but knew he wouldn't stop at just one, not when you looked this edible and ready for him. 

He ravages your clit, your hands shooting to his head burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks. He's careful of your tattoo but your other thigh is fair game for him to wrap his arm around and push you open, fingers bruising with how he spreads you. His free hand prodded your entrance, circling in your wetness before slipping in knuckle deep. “Hyunjin,” you whine, your hips rocking against his lips, feeling the build up of your orgasm. He curls his fingers pressing up into you enough to make your legs jerk from the new angle. 

You're seeing spot before too long, hips stuttering as he gives a final hard suck, fingers still as you clench around them. You're moaning so loud you're sure someone will hear but you don't even care. Hyunjin doesn't stop the flick of his tongue against your clit making you cry out, “I said I wanted to see them shake,” devilish smile covered in your slick before he latches on to your clit again. Fingers pumping in and out of you before he presses deeper into you. You can feel tears at the corners of your eyes, and when he pulls away slightly to let his teeth brush your clit you're done for, legs trembling as you cum. He is persistent and you have to tug his head away, a slight smile stuck on his wet lips as he watches your body shake from the overstimulation. “once more?” 

“I can't- I can't do it,” you shake your head but he drags his fingers out slowly before inching them back in, your hips jumping. 

“I know you can, you've been doing so good for me already, one more time won't hurt,” he hums, dipping his nose down to brush over your nub. Jolting at the feeling he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh, slowly building up speed with his fingers, “can't you do just one more?” it's the way he asks so softly, the heavy gaze under heavier eyelids that makes you nod. 

You're so sensitive that one lick has you shaking, your orgasm feeling so far and yet so close all at once. His tongue laps through your folds circling your clit. Hyunjin is obsessed with the taste of you, completely under the spell of your pussy and how it responds to his touch. He could go all night eating you out, watching as you fell apart again and again before him. Your cries are getting louder and before you know it your back is arching into him almost coming off the seat, your orgasm so intense you don't expect the clear fluid to squirt out of you until it has. 

You're breathing so labored you place a hand over your chest to try and calm yourself. hyunjins pleased grin is the only thing you see before he pulls his fingers out of you and sticks them in his mouth to clean them. Every once in a while your legs jerk from an aftershock, the delight in his eyes worth how tired you feel. Your thighs are sticking to the leather seat under you as Hyunjin pulls your underwear back into place leaning down to leave a ghost of a kiss over your clothed clit. “next time I want you to cry this pretty for my cock okay?”

[dcxdpdabbles]

I reread Dauntless Matchmaker recently and I love it, could you please make another part? Either that or another part for One Hell of a Bellhop, Legal Compensation, or Mr Flavors Soda, any of the above would be great, your choice ^-^

Danny skips up the stairs towards Wayne Manor's front entrance with a binder, a few notebooks, and his laptop tucked away in his carry bag. Humming under his breath, he raises his hand to knock. Before he can touch the wood, the door swings open to the beaming face of his fake boyfriend, Tim Drake.

"Hi!" The other gasps breathlessly. He adjusts his cardigan from where it had fallen off his left shoulder. Danny has noticed something about Tim. He was always so nervous and clumsy. The poor thing was taking his heartbreak badly.

"Hi, Tim." Danny grins. He holds up his NASA theme bag with pride. "I brought the stuff!"

His boss' brother lets out a string of nervous chuckles that slowly dissolve, coughing when he chokes on his spit. Alarmed, Danny started smacking his back in hopes of helping. He wishes he could say this was a one-time thing, but Tim, unfortunately, does this often.

"Master Tim?" Alfred calls from down the left hallway.

"I'm fine! Everything-cough-hack- everything is fine!" Tim screams back, entirely red and looking a tad bit mortified. Clearing his throat, he straightens to full height, back pin straight and looking every bit the young gentleman of his standing. "Shall we move to the viewing room?"

Danny knows he's only trying to save face, so he only smiles and steps inside. As they had agreed on two weeks ago, Danny loops his arm through Tim's, pressing himself close to the other's side, just as Alfred walks by.

The aged man seems pleased to see them so affectionate, which Damian said Danny had to play up because otherwise, it would not be believable. Tim only dated men and women who showed their care through physical touch, and he was often seen holding hands or looping arms with his partners.

As it is, Tim does his part well, beaming up at Danny. He was taller after hitting a second growth spurt, but sadly, he seemed to take after his mother rather than his father. Danny was only two inches taller than Tim.

On the other hand, Jazz grew like a weed. Once it became apparent, she took after Jack in height. Dan's appearance gave Danny hope that he would break the six-foot mark in a few years—you know, if the madness and devouring Plasmius didn't affect his development too much.

"What are you showing me today?" Tim asks as they stride past Damian. The younger boy makes a face, the same one Danny made whenever Jazz brought over a boy, and they were being sickly sweet. He offers his boss a smile in return, watching those intense green eyes roll.

"I brought evidence of why Yetis' healthcare is far superior to ours." Danny pats his bag with a satisfied smirk. "Nothing beats Frostbite."

Tim melts. "That's amazing. I can't wait to hear all about it. Then we could go get dinner. How does Divine Palace sound?"

"The upscale restaurant? I would need to change before I'm allowed in there. It has a dress code, doesn't it?"

Tim snuggles closer. "You can borrow one of my suits."

"You know it's bad luck to wear someone else's clothes?" Danny tells him they have just arrived at the viewing room. The projector is set up, and Danny is waiting to plug in his laptop. A sizeable plush couch is pushed in front of the large empty wall, where Tim plans to curl up and watch Danny's presentation.

Meeting someone who adored all the educational information about Ghosts and their culture was lovely. Danny's parents were more interested in the aspects of biology and anatomy than the sociology and anthropology he studied.

After he finished his slide show—sadly without pictures as ghosts disrupted the camera—he would show Tim his notes, which the two could flip through together on the couch. Since his PowerPoint lacked images, Danny settled for some drawings and blurry photos he had stored in his binder while exploring the Zone.

He started it when he was fourteen, gradually growing over the years.

"Why's that?" Tim asks, throwing himself on the couch and crossing his legs underneath him. He places his elbow on the meat of his thigh and leans his head on his hand, his eyes never leaving Danny.

They seem to be shining, utterly captivated by the Halfa.

"It makes it easier for ghosts to overshadow you," Danny answers promptly, unzipping his bag to take out the materials from his bag. He had to look away from his friend because the way he was staring was making him a bit flustered.

"Overshadow?"

"It's another way of saying possession, but it's more politically correct." He responds, plugging in the wires to his laptop and watching the lock screen of his computer appear on the wall. "My sister's first boyfriend attempted to do that to her. Gave her some of his girlfriend's stuff so she could form around her and use Jazz as an anchor to stay on this plane."

"And you saved her before he could succeed," Tim sighs adoringly.

Danny puffs out his chest. "I did!"

Tim pressed a button on the side of his couch. At once, the thing expands, pushing the backrest down and expanding the bottom until it forms an even flat surface. Danny initially thought it was a recliner, but apparently, rich people had couches that could turn into beds in seconds.

He lays flat on his stomach, kicking his feet and leaning on both hands as he smiles like a loon at Danny. "That's amazing."

Danny bites his lip, trying to be modes,t but it's hard when he's being praised by someone like Tim Drake.

"Well, it's just what a good brother does. All I really had to do was use his bad luck against him, and really, Jazz sort of snapped out it when he tried to punch me," He babbles while scrambling to log into his account. He needs to do something before he bursts from all the giddy, mushy feeling in his chest. "It was nothing compared to when I had to win a pie-eating contest against Baker."

"Hmm?"

"Baker is a pasty theme ghost that is shockingly powerful. He locked me in a battle for five days before I convinced him to switch to a food theme contest." Danny laughs, shaking his head at the memories. "I was stuck in bed for a day with the biggest stomach ache, but I won that day. And victory was sweet."

Tim swoons.

Just as Danny is booting up the presentation, his superhearing catches the whispers of Tim's other siblings from the hallway. Damian had instructed him not to let anyone else in the household learn the truth of his contract because it would eventually get back to Alfred.

After meeting the man, he completely understands the paranoia.

"Who is that?" He's pretty sure that's the oldest Dick.

"Tim's new obsession." Answers Steph with a smirk in her words. "Apparently, he's some paranormal-obsessed conspiracy theorist."

"Why does he always go for the crazy ones?" Jason sighs dramatically.

"Have you seen Danny's biceps? Were it not for his health issues, I would have thought Tim found a secret off-duty hero."

Danny hastily focuses on his first slide, trying not to show his fear. Tim continues to watch him kick his feet and play with some of his hair. He has a habit of twirling his hair. Tim almost always does that whenever Danny sees him.

[bitchface24-7]

FORGIVE ME FATHER, FOR I HAVE SINNED PT 2 - JAYVIK X READER

idea inspired by @honeybeemain

synopsis: at the last couple of services, a nice catholic boy has taken an interest in you. Sitting next to you in church, whispering during sermons, even escorting you outside so you no longer have time to linger with Father Viktor and Father Jayce. They're mad. Really mad. Hopefully, you can make it up to them…

warnings: age gap (again R is 19, J & V are in their early 30s), jealousy, oral sex (f & m receiving), rough vaginal sex, canning, safe-words introduced (stop light system), dom/sub dynamics, dom!viktor, switch!jayce, sub!reader, possessiveness, marking, biting, hair pulling, crying, dacryphilia, body worship, face-fucking, throatpie, aftercare, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f

p.s. The awaited pt2 is here!! Also, tell me why it was so hard to find photos for this pt but pt1 was so easy like wtf?? Hope y'all don't mind it being in black and white LMAO

Letting loose is incredibly freeing, you've come to realize these past few weeks. You understand why your classmates did what they did a few years ago. This fun.

This is exhilarating.

The amount of sex you're having would now make you the epitome embodiment of the sin lust. The way you're monopolizing your handsome priests is the type of greed they talk about in the Bible.

You hear how all the other women in the town talk about them. People old enough to be your mom, people old enough to be their grandma, girls your age. And you have to control yourself not to smirk smugly cause you know everything. You know how their fantasies would actually play out, you know what they look like under their priest garbs, you know what they look and sound like in the thoroughs of pleasure.

It's only for you to know.

Unfortunately, your time with them has shortened, against your will. There's this boy that also goes to the church, James. He's cute, kind, gentle. Honestly he would've been your perfect match if Viktor and Jayce hadn't ruined you for everyone else.

He sits next to you at church, whispers in your ear during mass, walks you to your car afterwards. A true gentleman at heart.

He's continuously ruining your plans, and you can't tell him off.

You're still perfect in the eyes of the town. Perfect daughter. Perfect potential daughter in-law. Your parents are thrilled at the potential match you and James make.

You want to rip your hair out.

Viktor and Jayce are getting more and more frustrated. They subtly glare at every move James makes on you. You're their girl. Not his.

They wish they could mark you up for everyone to see, they wish they could make you scream their names until the whole town heard you and your voice was raw.

It’s getting harder and harder to stay cordial during mass. The perfect handsome priests that worship only god and can do no wrong.

They fear they might snap and fuck you in front of the whole congregation.

But they know they can release that pent-up anger soon, you three were able to make plans for tomorrow night after mass. Poor James has come down with the stomach bug, it’s all his dear mother can talk about. Jayce and Viktor don't care but they give fake pleasantries anyway.

God's timing is always right.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You're nervous as you pull up to their house. It’s a bit farther away from the town, surrounded by trees. It’s a beautiful house, truly. Although you're nervous, you kinda wanna laugh too.

How does no one in town suspect anything? No one is questioning why they live together? Two handsome men in their early thirties living together in a secluded area doesn't ring any bells? Sound any alarms?

Oh no they can't be fucking each other or anyone else. They're priests.

They're hot young men, they're gonna break a few sacred vows.

You shut your car off with a small giggle at your thoughts. Jesus Christ these men have ruined you.

Exiting your car you lock it with a honk and walk up the steps to their front door. You barely get one knock in before the door is whipped open and you're dragged inside, the door is shut and you're slammed up against it.

Okay so… they're not very happy right now.

The only contact you've been able get these last few weeks is during the holy communion that started this relationship. A brush of fingers against your lower lip as a communion bread is placed on your tongue, a heated glance as you drink the wine. Getting away with a few too many buttons undone on your shirt so they can see your tits when you curtsey.

You've made them go feral.

The only thing you can see is the burning gaze Jayce gives you as his big hands squeeze your biceps. You think you may bruise a little.

He snarls before crashing his lips onto yours, you gasp and he slips his tongue into your mouth. A moan leaves your throat as your eyes flutter close. Fuck you've needed this, desperately.

Without even realizing Jayce has moved you to the couch, where Viktor is waiting. “Hello darling. Its been a while.” You whine at his tone. So dark and husky. He's taunting you, teasing you.

“It has, I’ve missed you.”

Viktor's look softens at that, “We’ve missed you too. But there's a punishment to be given.”

You gasp, “Why? To who?”

Both men give you a pointed look and you look sadly at them, “To me? I didn't do anything though.” Viktor pushes his tongue into his cheek and Jayce chuckles darkly, “Thats exactly it. You didn't do anything, and James has been all over you.”

You snort out a laugh, “James is nothing compared to you two, a mere schoolboy compared to two grown men. He wishes he's done even a fraction of what you've done to me. Worst thing he's done is whisper in my ear. Poor thing.”

Jayce's eyebrows raise at your mean tone, Viktor snickers, “We really have ruined you. That was mean darling. But still, he shouldn't have gotten that close to you in the first place. You're ours. And we’ll remind you of that. Jayce, sit down on the couch, you kneel over the armrest.”

At the commanding tone, you do as you’re told. As you two get into position, you notice your arms rest agaisnt Jayce’s lap, and he's got an iron grip on your forearms. Before anything else occurs, Viktor adds, “I’m going to spank you until your ass is black and blue. Until every time you move all you can think about is us. This is going to be intense, and I won't stop if you say no. So we're going to use colours okay?”

You furrow your eyebrows, “Colours?”

Jayce pips in, “Like the stop lights. Green for go, yellow for slow down— we need to change something, and red for stop. If you say red, we stop immediately and that's it. No more sex. We talk about what happened and make sure it never happens again.”

A hum vibrates in your throat, “So if I need a breather or I want something to slightly change, I say yellow?”

Viktor proudly nods, “Exactly. You're such a smart girl.” Your face heats up at that. “I want your ass bare, is that okay with you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to use my cane to spank you. Colour?”

You ponder for a moment before stating, “Green.”

Viktor smiles, “Good girl.” You clench your thighs together at that. Holy shit, you've barely even started and you're not sure if you'll survive this.

Viktor rips down your skirt and panties in one go, they're pooling at your ankles now. He caresses your ass, his large hand lightly dancing across the soft skin. Then there's a stinging pain. You gasp in shock.

“Colour?”

You whine, “Green. I think I can handle a little harder.”

Jayce groans as he tightens his grip on your arms and you bite your lip. Another wack hits your ass and you moan at the painful pleasure.

Then Viktor hits you again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

You're wiggling, whining, moaning, and crying. Your face is hot, your eyes are wet, and so is your face.

Lets not mention how wet your cunt is.

(she’s soaked.)

Eventually you sob out, “Yellow.” and Viktor stops the assault on your ass, “Whats wrong darling?”

You sniffle, “I can’t take anymore hits. It’s starting to hurt too much.” Viktor croons as he rubs your ass, leaning over your back and kissing you on the cheek, “You’re such a good girl, our perfect girl. Following our instructions beautifully. I think that deserves a reward. Jayce, would you like to eat her out?”

Jayce whines at that, his eyebrows furrowed as he ruts the bulge in his pants into your arms. Viktor very loudly and not so subtly whispers, “Jayce has been dying to taste your pussy again. It’s all he’s been talking about since he got to taste it last time. Poor thing has been starving. Would you like Jayce to eat you out?”

A high pitched moan escapes you at that, “Yes. Please. I want it.”

Viktor smiles and stands back up, “Jayce, reposition her so she’s sitting where you are, then get on your knees.”

In what seems like a millisecond, Jayce accomplishes his task. Your sore ass is on the couch and you can’t help but moan at the stinging pain, Viktor sits next to you as snickers at your petulant look, “You asked for it, darling.”

He unbuttons your shirt, tossing it behind the couch, he looks at you imploring and snaps the armband of your bra, you nod; and then you’re fully naked on the couch while your two lovers are fully clothed.

Jayce goes to town on your cunt and you almost pass out. He’s remembered all your ticks, your sensitive spots, the pace and suction you adore. Where exactly your g-spot is so he pounds it mercilessly with his fingers.

He’s memorized you so efficiently that you’ve fallen in love with him just a bit more. He then does something you’re not expecting.

He stops.

You’re confused until you’re getting tag teamed by possessive mouths. Your neck, your chest, your thighs, they all get covered in hickeys and bite marks. You’re like their personal pin cushion; and all you can do is moan. It’s heightened your pleasure, and when Jayce gets back to eating your pussy; you’re going to cum hard.

And you do.

You grip his hair for dear life as Viktor kisses you and plays with your tits. Massaging one and twisting the nipple of the other.

The soreness of your body is insane, since you haven't even gotten to the main part yet.

A loud gasp leaves your lips as Jayce picks you up like a ragdoll and brings you to the bedroom, Viktor following closely behind. Jayce tosses you onto the bed and stands at the foot, arms crossed as he stares down at you. Viktor puts a hand on his shoulder, "Now, Jayce had the pleasure to pound your cunt into oblivion. I wish to do the same, I wasn't given the chance in the confessional to get as far as I wanted to."

You bite your lip as you smile and nod eagerly, before halting for a moment, "Will your leg be okay? It won't be too strenuous?"

Viktor smiles and leans down to kiss you, his hand cupping your face, "My dear, you truly are a gem. Yes, I'll be okay. Having great sex and my leg getting more sore than normal is better in the long run compared to changing positions every five minutes. That makes my entire body go numb; did it once, never again."

"What about Jayce?"

"I'll be waiting in my cuck chair." Jayce jokes as he dramatically whirls his hand to the comfy armchair in the corner of the room, like most hotel rooms. You bark out a laugh and Viktor fondly shakes his head.

"Viktor had the opportunity seeing us have sex, I'd like to have that same opportunity, seeing the two most beautiful people in the world fucking will be glorious."

You crawl to the end of the bed and pull yourself up by Jayce's belt, giving him a kiss. When you stop, Viktor takes over; Jayce has a dopey grin as he sits down in his chair.

"Are you finally get naked too? This feels a little unfair." You tease as you cup your breasts and slowly run your hands down your body. There goes the white collar, the dress shirt, the slacks, the boxers. Viktor is beautiful. He's lean, lithe, pale. He has freckles and beauty marks speckled all throughout his body. The main thing that's caught your attention is the happy trail that trails down his slim abdomen, and there's your treat.

You didn't get the best look in the confessional, but now in a highly lit room, you get to see everything. It's about seven inches, a nice girth, a pink head, a thick vein, and it's lightly bobbing due to its weight.

Viktor joins you on the bed and kisses you. It's full of heat, your tongues brushing each other as you moan into each other's mouth. A whine is heard from the side. Jayce.

The kiss breaks and Viktor leans in close, whispering in your ear, "The next time I fuck you, you'll be on your back. But for today, I request you go head down, ass up. That way Jayce can see how well you take my cock."

A loud cry escapes you and you nod excitably. You shift your body and crawl to the edge of the bed, go onto your stomach and push your ass into the air. Your hands grip the bedding and look at Jayce. He groans as his head falls to the side, his eyes heavy and dark.

"Ok lovely, you ready?" Viktor asks, the tip of his cock brushing your vulva. You want that cock in you yesterday.

You push back and the head pops into your pussy, you moan and Viktor groans, gripping your hips harshly, "Yes!" Viktor chuckles darkly, his chest rumbling due to the depth, "I was going to go slow. But if you act like a slut, I'll treat you like a slut."

In one sharp thrust, Viktor is sheathed fully into your pussy. You gasp out a whine and grip the bedding as hard as you can. Holy fuck, what a delicious stretch. In no time at all, Viktor is pounding into you. Fucking you like a human flesh-light.

Your moans are embarrassingly loud. Your body jolting with each thrust, little "uh's" forced past your lips each time Viktor slams into your soft spots. Your head falls into the bed, muffling your moans.

A hand is gripped into your hair, in a steel like grip. Your head is harshly jerked up and you moan even louder, a whiny note to your pleasured cries.

A loud groan is heard from the corner of the room and you glance over to your other lover, his collar is gone, his shirt is mostly unbuttoned and his cock has been fished out of his pants. He's jerking off rapidly, and you feel your pussy squeeze at the sight.

Viktor moans at the feeling of the vice like grip your pussy has on him, "Isn't it crazy you used to be a puritan virgin? Now look at you, a whore. Wonder how you're going to hide all those marks from Mummy and Daddy when you go home? Or... you could stay here for the night. Wouldn't that be fun?"

You're feeling everything at once, it's too much; and tears start to fall from your eyes, "Oh, fuck! You've ruined me for anyone else. Only you two can satisfy me now. I'm not just any whore, I'm your whore!"

Two groans are heard at that statement. Viktor leans down and licks a tear from your cheek, the new position has him hitting your cervix; and you're going cross-eyed. The one hand that's been stabilized on your hip drifts down and vigorously rubs at your clit. You scream as you cum, damn near passing out. A few thrusts later, and you feel an enormous warmth enter your pussy. Fuck, you might just get pregnant with that much cum in you.

Jayce is panting harshly, the tip of his cock is maroon as he leaks copious amounts of precum. You fall down, and slip off Viktor's cock. You turn to lie on your back and put your head over the edge of the bed, ushering Jayce to stand in front of you.

"Fuck my throat." You say, face already red and wet from the previous pounding, "I've been practicing at home on my secret dildo."

The feral look in Jayce's eyes should scare you, it just makes you more horny.

Jayce angles his cock to your lips and pushes in slowly. Bit by bit you swallow more of his cock. Eventually you nose brush up against his balls and he whines. He starts to pump his hips, and in a few seconds he's fucking your face. He's like a dog in rut, so desperate for release. It's a major turn on.

Then you feel a weight on your abdomen and hear Viktor's voice from above you as he slowly rocks his slowly hardening cock against your sternum, your tits jiggling.

"How's she feel baby?" Viktor asks, his accent delicious.

Jayce just whines again, his moan choppy, "So f--fucking good. I'm going to cum soon. Can I cum? Please?"

Viktor smiles and cups Jayce's face and simply says yes before kissing him. You wish you could see them properly, they must look gorgeous together.

A few harsh thrusts that almost make you gag later, and Jayce is shooting his load down your throat.

The three of you are exhausted as you all get comfortable on the bed, cuddling. Your everything is sore, you're not even sure if you can think anymore.

Eventually Jayce gets up and brings some supplies for aftercare. Warm towels to get clean (ain't none of you got the energy or strength to properly bathe; that's a tomorrow issue), water, and some granola bars. There are words of praise, amazement, and joking banter between the three of you.

You've just had the best sex of your life, you're getting treated like a princess, and you're laying in one of the most comfortable beds ever. It's no wonder you're about to crash out.

The silence is interrupted by Jayce, "Where the hell did you get a secret dildo?"

You sigh sleepily, "Ordered it online and had it shipped to the house, told my parents it was a textbook for my certification to become a librarian. They didn't question it. Especially since I already bought some textbooks in person and they only ever actually saw one of them. When Mum asked me which textbook I ordered online, I picked up a random one she's never seen before; and that was that." You're cocooned under the blankets as you speak, your voice becoming more and more slurred.

"You little rebel." Jayce jokes and Viktor snorts, "Guess we didn't fully corrupt you. You've always had that fire in you."

The two men smush you in the middle and you feel a millisecond away from passing out.

Guess you're staying the night.

Oh well.

(Hopefully your parents don't interrogate you. And that your lovers had the decency to just leave red marks on your neck that'll fade overnight rather than a massive purple bruise.)

(... they left massive purple bruises. Oops.)

… this is somehow filthier than pt1. Somebody sedate me. I think I’d terrify Jayvik if they knew how badly I want to freak nasty with them. Hope y’all enjoyed it! Love ya ❤️

[diamonddaze01]

HEYYY. I read your off the record jeonghan's fic and OH MY GOD. IT WAS SOOOOOOOO AMAZING AND GOOD. CHEF'S KISS MWAH

I was wondering if you can do jeonghan 75 drabble. I would really really appreciate it. thank you and love you mwah

off the record

pairing: jeonghan x reader | wc: 1.3k prompt: "guess who's going to be a father!" au: f1 au | warnings: mentions of pregnancy a/n: hello hello nari your asks always make me smile <3 // this is a continuation of [on the record] bc ferrari!jeonghan lives in my head rent free (highly recommend you read on the record first for some context)

The atmosphere at the Australian Grand Prix was electric, the roar of the crowd still echoing as the last of the race cars pulled into the pit lane. Jeonghan had just secured yet another win, and the sea of Ferrari red flooded every corner of the paddock. The team was in chaos—cheers and hugs, champagne spraying everywhere, mechanics shaking with excitement—but Jeonghan’s gaze was fixed on something else.

You stood just outside the frenzy, leaning casually against the barrier, your camera poised as you snapped a few final shots. You’d been here before, a part of this circus. But today, you had a story of your own to deal with, one that Jeonghan was certain would find its way to his attention.

Jeonghan peeled off his helmet and flashed a grin at the crew as they crowded around him. But his eyes were still searching for you.

A few weeks ago, you'd written something that had the entire paddock talking. 

"Guess Who’s Going to be a Father!" 

Yoon Jeonghan, Ferrari’s golden boy, had been linked to a famous model, Sienna Hartley, the stunning up-and-coming fashion icon known for her work with luxury brands. A few months ago, the paparazzi had caught the two of them together at a private event. The photos were casual enough—Jeonghan with his arm around her waist, a smile that seemed too comfortable—but it was the following week’s headlines that sent the media into a frenzy.

The shots of Sienna taken at an upscale café, her baby bump unmistakable under a form-fitting dress, had people running wild with speculation. Was Jeonghan going to be a father? Had he been keeping a secret relationship? The rumors only grew when neither Jeonghan nor Sienna commented on the speculation, leaving fans and gossip columns to fill in the blanks.

The rumblings were only growing louder, and of course, you had jumped into the fray, teasing the possibility of Jeonghan becoming a father. The headline had been coy but suggested a connection between the two, leaving just enough room for interpretation. And now, here he was, stepping out of the car, knowing exactly who was responsible for the chaos.

As he walked toward you, the crowd parted around him, but his eyes stayed locked on yours. He could practically feel the mischievous energy radiating from you, even from a distance. The subtle smirk tugging at your lips was all the warning he needed.

Jeonghan approached with slow, deliberate steps, his face a mixture of amusement and challenge. "So we write fake articles now, do we, sweetheart?" he called, his voice carrying across the pit lane.

You didn’t even flinch. With a calm, collected posture, you raised an eyebrow, offering him a half-smile as you lowered your camera. "Just reporting what people are saying," you replied smoothly, voice teasing. "You know, about you possibly becoming a father this year."

"People are saying that?" Jeonghan asked, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. He stepped closer, clearly enjoying the tension building between you two. "Maybe you’ve been spending too much time with the gossip columnists, huh? Could’ve sworn the last time I checked, we were talking about race wins, not baby bumps."

You shrugged, not missing a beat. "Well, Jeonghan, it’s not my fault your personal life keeps getting more interesting than your driving. You really should be more careful with who you’re seen with."

His eyes darkened playfully. "Careful? You think I care about rumors?" he quipped, leaning in just a little bit closer, his voice dropping to a lower, more flirtatious tone. "But if you wanted to get my attention, sweetheart, there are far better ways than a headline about some fake baby."

You tilted your head, smiling in that way that always left him unsure whether you were teasing or challenging him. "Who says I want your attention?" you replied with a hint of challenge, crossing your arms as if daring him to press further.

Jeonghan’s smile only widened. "You’ve got my attention now, don't you?" he teased, his fingers brushing against the barrier you were leaning on, his proximity making it hard to ignore the way the air between you two shifted.

You glanced up at him, keeping your expression casual, but the spark in your eyes was undeniable. "Oh, I don’t know," you said nonchalantly, "maybe I’m just here to enjoy the view of a guy in red doing what he does best – reckless maneuvers that still somehow let him win, y’know?" You paused, letting that sink in. "Though if you really wanted to shut down those rumors, maybe you should take a different approach."

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

You gave him a sly smile. "I don’t know. Maybe just come out and say you’re not the father. Or, you know, get more specific about who you’re spending time with. The fans love a good love story, after all."

The way his expression shifted made it clear that he wasn’t quite ready for this conversation to take that turn. His jaw clenched, a hint of frustration appearing under the surface, but it was quickly replaced with his signature smirk. "Sweetheart, you sure talk a big game for someone who's so quiet when it counts."

You leaned in just a little, enough for your words to linger in the air between you. "I could say the same about you," you shot back, eyes glinting with mischief.

Jeonghan paused, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth, but you had him on edge in a way that he didn’t expect. "Listen," he said, his tone dipping lower, his voice now laced with more than just flirtation. "There's only one girl in the paddock I have eyes for, and it sure as hell isn’t Sienna Hartley."

The tension between you two was palpable, a spark igniting in your chest at his words. You met his gaze head-on, not backing down. "And who says I’m interested in your attention, Jeonghan?" you shot back, smirking. "Maybe I just like watching you squirm under pressure."

He leaned in a little more, his breath coming out a little sharper. "You really think you can get under my skin with a headline like that?" he murmured, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "I’m not the one with something to prove, sweetheart."

You could feel his breath on your skin, but instead of feeling intimidated, a thrill ran through you. "Then why do you look like you’re about to lose that smug grin?" you teased, lifting your chin just slightly, making sure the challenge was clear in your words.

Jeonghan grinned, his teeth flashing. "Oh, I’m not losing anything," he said, the playful tone returning. "But if you really want to get my attention, there are better ways than headlines."

You smirked, standing your ground. "Oh? Well, if you want to do something better with your mouth than argue with me, you know where to find me." You shot him a quick wink and began to turn away.

Jeonghan's eyes widened for a moment as he processed your words, and for the briefest second, he was completely thrown off. His confident swagger faltered, and it was then that you realized: you’d left him flustered.

You glanced back over your shoulder with a smug grin. "But I’ll be honest, Jeonghan," you called out, "I’d much rather see you focus on keeping your title than keeping up with rumors."

And with that, you turned and walked off, leaving Jeonghan standing there, still processing your bold departure. His pulse was racing, but not because of the race. This time, it was because of you—your words, your attitude, and the way you had him on edge in a way no one else could.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath, but the smile on his face betrayed how much he appreciated the challenge. “I should’ve asked her to dinner.”

But knowing you, this was far from over. And next time? He might just have something to say about it.

send me an ask for my drabble game!

[ao3-rex1223]

𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐈𝐕

Pairing: DBF!Leon x Fem!Reader

Tags: vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, cunnilingus,

Summary: Leon is called away to a mission in Spain before Christmas and you wait anxiously to see if he'll make it home in time.

“I’m going to try my hardest to finish in the next couple days,” Leon reassures you over the phone. He’s been away for two weeks on a mission in Spain since a rogue military faction started snooping around for remnants of Las Plagas. You pace Leon’s living room; ever since you two got together, you spend a lot of time waiting at his place. You tell your parents your ‘house sitting’ since they still don’t know you’re secretly dating him, though sometimes you wonder if your father at least suspects and isn’t saying anything. He never questions what you’re doing anymore. As soon as you say you’re going to Leon’s, he simply smiles and nods, never pressing you for further details. 

You flop onto his bed, twirling your hair in your fingers. “Think you’ll be home by Christmas?” you ask, hope rampant in your tone, the holiday only one week away. Your eyes glance around the bedroom you share with him more often than not, lingering on photos of you two placed in simple frames all over. You smile to yourself, feeling the warmth from the happy memories. 

“I wanna be there. I’ll do everything I can, baby.” 

“I’ll make sure your house is nice and Christmas-y for when you get home,” you promise, already envisioning so many decorations, it’ll be like Christmas threw up all over his house!  

I’m sure you will, sweetheart,” Leon replies with a chuckle. 

You hear gunshots ringing in the background, causing your heart to race wildly. “Leon!” you choke out, plagued with worry.

“I better go, baby girl,” Leon says suddenly. You can hear rustling, like he’s moving quickly. “Love you.”

“I love you, too, Leon. Please be careful!” you cry, tears pooling in your eyes. The line goes dead and, as always, you never know if it’s because he hung up or something awful happened. You won’t know until he calls again. It could be hours… It could be days. You take a deep breath and sigh, hands trembling as they hold your phone, eyes staring at the screen with Leon’s image and contact information still displayed. “Just come home,” you whisper to that digital picture. 

In an effort to distract yourself, you make a trip to the local hobby store to find some decorations for Leon’s house. Your mood lifts slightly as you wander the store, picking out every tantalizing Christmas decoration you see, filling the large shopping cart full before you’re even half way through the store. You glance down at your haul so far; reindeer, Santas, porcelain houses, lights, fake snow, candles, garland, nutcrackers, bows, stockings, ornaments, even a few gnomes dressed in holiday garb. You return your gaze to the aisles ahead…and then…in the distance, you spot an eight foot tall synthetic tree, decked out in colorful LED lights and your eyes shine like a small child padding down the stairs on Christmas morning to see all the presents that good old Saint Nick left for them. Beaming, you rush to the nearest employee and ask - no, beg - them to help you get one of those magnificent trees. The twenty something year old worker clearly suppresses an eye roll - not that you’ll let it get to you - and tells you he’ll ‘check the back’. After a few minutes, he returns and tells you there are no more of the trees you wanted in stock. “The closest we have in stock is a nine-footer,” he explains, his tone detached and apathetic, as though he'd explained the lack of stock a dozen times already today and couldn't muster any more effort.

Unwilling to let this Grinch steal your cheerful attitude, you gleefully exclaim, “Oh! I’ll take the nine-foot one, then!” You practically jump up and down. 

“Great,” the worker replies, coldly and turns on his heel, heading back to the stockroom. You bob your head and sing softly along with the Christmas music playing overhead. Finally, the worker returns with a flatbed carrying your beautiful tree. 

After struggling to get it into your car, eventually you strap it to the top and carefully drive back to Leon’s place with your massive purchase of holiday decorations. You link your phone to the stereo in his living room and start playing more Christmas music, along with which you are all too happy to sing. You immediately start putting up the nine foot tree. With tender, loving care, you add lights, ornaments, and tinsel. You string more lights along the mantle of his fireplace and garland on the banisters. The small statuettes you bought find places on his coffee table and end tables. 

Throughout the afternoon, you’re constantly checking your phone to see if Leon has called or at least texted. Nothing. You know he must be pinned down somewhere. He will always let you know he’s okay when he can. You clasp your hands together in a silent prayer for his safety. 

Meanwhile…

Leon forces himself to breathe quietly as militia men scour the decaying laboratory - the one that used to belong to Luis. He stays hidden behind a cabinet, clutching his handcannon in position to fire if needed, but he’s hoping to avoid a direct confrontation, not that it wouldn’t be the first time he’s faced down a hoard of enemies…and it wouldn’t be the first time in this location, either. Flashbacks from that day he came here to rescue Ashley Graham back in 2004 fill his mind. That was long before he met you, before you changed his whole goddamn life. Christ, he misses you. He misses the warmth of your body pressed against his; he misses your smile; he misses your laugh, your kisses, your warm, wet mouth around his-

“Hey! Check over there!” one of the men commands, pulling Leon from his reverie. Fuck, he thinks to himself as he hears heavy boots approaching his hiding spot. He cocks the powerful magnum, ready for a fight. Some big burly motherfucker pokes his ugly head around the corner of Leon’s hiding spot. He growls, bearing his sickly teeth which are quickly blown to pieces by the bullet fired from Leon’s weapon. Shit, can’t catch a break. Guess we’re doin’ this, Leon realizes. He pushes the large man’s limp body away and gets into position, ready to take out anyone else who dares come his way. Nothing, absolutely nothing, will keep him from returning to his girl. 

Back at Leon’s place, you decide to bake some cookies, hoping to have a nice treat for him when he gets back, as if you didn’t practically buy out the store’s entire stock of Christmas decorations. You inhale the warm, homey smell of the delicious dessert, soothing your weary heart, which still worries for Leon’s safety. You take a deep, centering breath, reminding yourself to trust in Leon’s abilities. 

Two days before Christmas, you finally hear from him. “Hey, baby girl. I'm coming home!”

You shriek with joy, jumping up and down in his living room. You spend the day meticulously cleaning the place, making sure it's perfect. 

And on Christmas Eve, near midnight, The door opens, his face marred by fatigue and restless nights, but still handsome as ever. The soft glow of the fireplace illuminates his features in a warm hue. “Baby…” he whispers, his voice barely loud enough to hear. Tears pool in your eyes, your nose tingling as emotion overwhelms you. You rush toward him and throw yourself into his embrace. 

Just like that, with the love of his life in his arms again, Leon feels whole once more. He crushes you against him, soaking in your warmth, soothing his aching soul. He buries his face in your neck, taking in your unique scent. It reminds him why he fights, why he continues to battle the evils of the world, because, as bad as things are, if he can make it a little better for you, it’s worth the pain and effort. For a while, you simply hold each other, the crackling of the fireplace and the quiet whispers of the cold winds outside the only soundtrack for your heartfelt reunion. When you finally part, he gently cups your face and presses his mouth to yours in a tender and passionate kiss. The softness of your lips is a balm for his wary heart. Your tongues slide together in perfect synchrony, a dance of love and devotion. 

You finally break for air, gazing with longing into each other's eyes. “I missed you so much, sweetheart,” Leon coos, his voice cracking slightly from the weight of all his emotions. 

“I missed you too, Leon,” you reply, pressing a delicate kiss to his nose. 

He smiles, his tense muscles finally relaxing after the long and grueling mission. “Hey,” he begins, his voice smooth like butter again, “got something for you…” He bends down to pick up a box with a bunch of holes in it. You look with curiosity at it, certain you hear it…whimpering? A giant red bow adorns the top. He holds the bottom while you lift the lid. Inside is a small, fluffy white puppy, looking up at you with innocent, golden eyes. It yawns, inadvertently showing off its sharp little teeth. Adorably ferocious, you think to yourself. 

“Leon…it’s…” You try to speak, but feel too choked up. Your hands carefully reach in to pick up the helpless ball of fur. Holding it in your arms, it sniffs you cautiously before licking your face, drawing out a genuine, joyful grin from your lips. 

“You remember me telling you about that dog that helped me out all those years ago?” Leon asks. After you nod in affirmation, gently scratching your new friend’s furry cheeks, he continues, “I found him again. Had a litter of pups around. This one was the runt; he wouldn’t do well on his own in the wild, so I brought him home. Thought he could keep you company while I’m away. Merry Christmas, baby.”

Tears fall down your face at the thoughtful gift. “Oh Leon! I love him!” you exclaim, kissing him deeply once again, your soft pup nestled between the two of you. 

After settling the pup - who you decide to name Buddy - into his new home, you and Leon share a bottle of champagne to celebrate his safe return. You clink your crystal glasses and snuggle together on the couch while Buddy snores softly, fast asleep on the recliner. 

Hearts yearning to share the most intimate of connections, Leon lifts you into his arms, bridal style, and carries you to the bedroom, the champagne glasses long since drained of their titular contents. He lays you on the bed with infinite gentleness and crawls over the top of you. He kisses your lips then peppers kisses all along your cheeks and jaw. He pecks a few more just below your ear before whispering, “I love you so much baby. More than anything. I fucking need you.”

You moan softly, cunt getting slippery with your essence, arousal growing, unobstructed. “Leon…I need you, too. I love you!” Tears pool in your eyes again as your feelings for him overwhelm you, yet again. 

He hums his approval at your response, hand gently lifting your shirt, grazing your perfect breasts as he removes it entirely. He growls hungrily as his eyes take in the plush mounds. “Missed these two, as well,” he adds with a smirk and kisses both breasts before taking one hardened bud into his mouth. 

Your teeth take your lower lip between them, biting gently as pleasure begins to fill you, originating from the gentle nibbles on your tits. You can feel his cock hardening, throbbing against your thigh through his pants. He sucks on the fat of your breasts, definitely intending to leave hickies there. Your hands reach down to tug at his shirt. His mouth releases you for mere seconds, long enough to whip his shirt off and throw it across the room. He continues to kiss his way down your taught stomach. His hands grab the waistband of your sweatpants and panties, pulling them down and off, effortlessly. “My Christmas feast…” Leon growls and pushes your legs apart. His thumbs part your wet folds and he looks hungrily at your glistening, pink sex. He licks his lips before diving in, hot, open mouthed kisses claiming your neglected pussy. Your hips roll in time with his expert licks, angling your clit toward his tongue. He closes his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking on it like it’s a rare delicacy. Your abs tighten as your body begins to respond on its own, your back arching hard and your head digging into the bed. Your hands death grip the sheets, nails nearly cutting through the fabric, a mind numbing climax imminent. 

“Leon! I’m cumming! Fuck! I’m cumming!” you cry out, the pleasure worth the wait you had to endure while he was gone. Orgasm ripping through you, he pins you in place with his strong arms while he continues to lick you though your waves of euphoria. As you pant, gasping for air, he kicks off his pants and gives his aching dick a few strokes, precum leaking from the tip. He pushes your legs apart again, which practically fall open whenever he looks at them. 

“Can’t wait to be inside you again, sweetheart. Not at home until I feel your perfect cunt wrapped around my shaft,” He guides his throbbing cock toward your willing entrance, notching the tip past your eager barrier. He drops onto his hands above you, arms caging you in as he slides further inside, the familiar sensation of his thick length filling your tight channel and kissing the entrance to your womb like a warm embrace, a feeling of completeness. “Fuck…you’re so goddamn tight, baby girl. Never gonna get tired of this,” Leon purrs. His mouth connects with yours once more, pouring all of his pent up love and passion into the heated kiss. With tender thrusts, he begins to move inside you. Your eyes roll back in your head as his cock rubs your g-spot, teasingly slow. You moan and whimper, begging for more with incoherent babbles. “Yeah, baby girl. You want more? Want me to put a baby in you, honey?” His mouth returns to your neck, licking and sucking, his own arousal and need growing beyond his control. 

His words make you arch into him even more, the thought of him impregnating you is once again a potent aphrodisiac. “Yes! Please! God, I want it so bad!”

He groans at your impassioned affirmation. He begins snapping his hips forward hard, your tantalizing breasts jiggling with each movement. He withdraws nearly completely out before slamming back inside you again, driven by primal instinct, an innate desire - no, a need - to breed you, to watch your belly swell with his child, to claim you in every way imaginable. He laces your fingers together, pressing them gently into the mattress. His rhythm is frenzied and irregular as he begins chasing his own high. As you cum a second time, you tense, hard, then cry out as your walls collapse on his dick, sucking him in deeper. With a guttural, rough moan, Leon thrusts into you one final time, filling you with his hot, sticky seed. For a long time, he simply remains buried inside you, unwilling to sever the connection just yet. He pulls you with him as he rolls off of you, deciding to keep himself warm inside your delicious heat for the night. “Need you to cockwarm me, baby girl. Been too damn long.”

Your pussy quivers weakly as the last remnants of your orgasm trickle out of you. “Always, Leon. Merry Christmas, baby,” you coo softly, running your fingers tenderly through his hair. 

He closes his eyes as you caress his scalp and rub it gently. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he replies, wrapping his arms tightly around you, pulling you close as he begins drifting off to sleep, comfortable and happy for the first time since he left for the mission to Spain. 

[foli-vora]

masterlist | foli jolly xmas list

A/N: gif by moi. Yeah I recycled the same from part 2 idc. Are you telling me it's been two fucking years since I wrote this? Get out. The flow of time is fake. Everything was against me this week trying to get this fucking thing out but I finally got there! Merry late Christmas, angels! Thank you all for being so fucking wonderful and supportive and patient with me while I worked out a really messy year and I wish you all nothing but the very best! Enjoy x

Word count: just shy of 7k

Warnings: cheesy hallmark romance, I want to be kissed by a cowboy under the mistletoe. Swearing, this hot af man, a solid semi-public make out sesh with said hot af man, SOFTNESS! so much fucking softness I want to throw up, smut with all the feels 18+ ONLY: soft and sweet and so fucking tender I'm so into it, fingering, oral (f rec), this man practically makes out with pussy and I won't hear otherwise, bit of hair pulling, mention of the implanon, unprotected p in v and a christmas creampie yay

PART ONE | PART TWO

It’s quite the occasion, he finds. This Christmas Eve ball-party thing. The whole town and more is there, crammed into the town hall decorated heavily with tinsel and lights and spilling out onto the snowy grounds around in the form of various food and Christmas stalls. There are craft tables full of parents with their kids, a little choir singing carols, and people having a snowman contest in the taped off carpark.

There’s an older man dressed as Santa sitting on a big seat for family photos, joyfully laughing and ho-ho-hoing as kids wander by in awe. Jack watches on comfortably, not yet interested in pursuing any of the stalls or food until he knows if you and the kids have eaten.

Despite his general dislike of the holiday, it’s hard to not feel… well, merry, and it has a content smile tugging at his lips. If Tequila could see him now, he’d never let him live it down. He’d get matching Christmas ties or some other ridiculous shit. Maybe there’s somewhere he could buy one for the agent here, he’s sure you’d find that funny.

“That’s not the real Santa,” Gabe says suddenly, appearing beside him.

Jack startles from being broken from his mental reverie, briefly wondering if a couple of weeks worth of leave had gone and ruined his well tuned Statesman senses. Champ would only have himself to blame. He turns expectantly, heart hammering wildly from the hope you’d be only a few paces behind your boy, but when he looks he finds you nowhere to be seen.

Gabe continues, oblivious to the way Jack shifts and deflates next to him.

“The real one’s too busy, so he gets George to step in. He does it every year.”

“Is that right? Suppose he would be a busy man.”

“Are you kidding? One night to get around the whole world? Dude’s insane.”

Jack grins, looking down at the boy and noting his styled hair. “You’re lookin’ sharp tonight, kid. You brush your hair?”

“Mum made me,” Gabe grumbles, ruffling his neatened curls with a thick gloved hand. “She’s in the hall with Lou, if you were wondering.”

“And why would I be wonderin’ that?”

The boy gives him a look, something bordering the line of smug and Jack rolls his eyes, giving him a gentle shove. Jesus, even the damn kid knows.

“Cut it out.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t have to. Now go on, lead the way. And stop lookin’ at me like that, or I’ll tell the big guy you need to go on the naughty list this year.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would. Believe me. You think he doesn’t know about you hustlin’ me out of my hard earned money? You’re messin’ with fire, kid. You’re probably already on it.”

—

“Should’ve gotten more lights. I told him, you know.” Edith tuts to herself, frowning up at the hall ceiling.

You briefly pause from fussing over the cake competition table and glance up at the warm fairy lights dangled and intertwined between tinsel and garlands. She’s worrying over nothing, as always. Every year it’s a winter wonderland—inside and out, and this year is certainly no different. Has Jack seen it all yet? What does he think of it?

“Edith, any more lights and people would need sunglasses in here. Everything looks wonderful, as always. Now please relax and have some rum with your eggnog before your heart gives out. You don’t need to worry about anything tonight, leave it to the committee.”

“The only thing I’ll worry about is you not getting on top of that cowboy.”

You and me both, Edith.

You snort, directing your attention back to the cake stands and ensuring every label was front and centre. “On second thought, maybe stay away from the rum.”

“Speaking of the cowboy, here he comes. Fix your dress.”

“What’s wrong with my dress?”

It’s too late to worry, that southern drawl melts into your ears as he jokes about something with Gabe within the next few seconds and suddenly your insides are twisting and turning upside down. You play around with the table some more, gathering up a bit of courage before turning and smiling at Jack.

“Hi,” you breathe softly, cheeks already warming as his eyes meet yours.

Does this man ever not look like pure sin?

“Hey sugar,” he greets with a grin of his own. “You look incredible.”

“Oh, this old thing?” You tease, running a hand over the brand new dress you had painstakingly agonised over in an attempt to impress a stranger only in town for a few weeks. You’d spent an admittedly ridiculous amount of time in the local boutique trying and retrying dresses trying to find the right one. God, he doesn’t need to know that. “Not looking too bad yourself, cowboy.”

“Save a dance for me, won’t you, Jack?” Edith rasps sweetly, acting the innocent and delicate elderly lady and tapping his arm softly.

“Just try and stop me, ma’am.”

She wanders off into the crowds, more than happy to be stopped along her way to be praised on the decorations. She’s still going on about the damn lights.

“So what’s all this?” Jack asks in interest, body brushing yours as he steps up beside you to eye the table.

“It’s the yearly Christmas bake off, which I unfortunately have to judge as the town's resident baker.”

“Unfortunately?”

“I don’t like judging people's creations. They’re all wonderful and everyone always puts so much effort into it… makes me feel like a villain when I have to pick winners.”

Gabe steps up on your other side and eyes this year's entries. “Mum made a kid cry last year.”

Jack laughs in surprise. “What?”

“I didn’t know it was made by a child, okay?” You stress, rubbing along your brow line as last year's nightmare plays in your mind. After pinning the ribbons in place, a ten year old girl had promptly fallen into tears after not being given one, and you’d felt guilty about it for fucking weeks after. “If I had known, I would’ve picked them.”

“Well that defeats the purpose of it being a competition then, doesn’t it, sugar? You can’t pick a winner just because they’re a kid. I’m sure they knew that upon enterin’.” His hand runs comforting strokes up and down your middle back, entirely innocent, and yet your skin feels like fire beneath his hot palm.

“I think that one is the ugliest.”

Excellent timing, baby.

You sigh, “Gabriel—”

“Ah sugar, I gotta give it to the kid,” Jack drawls, eyes locked on the cake Gabe’s finger levelled at, “I’m thinkin’ it, too.”

“Well… obviously,” you agree quietly, discreetly looking around just in case its creator is somewhere lurking close by, “but we don’t say that out loud. That’s something we keep in our heads, okay?” Your gaze darts between them until they give a nod in agreement.

It’s quiet for a moment longer, Jack’s hand never once straying from your back or ceasing its gentle strokes as you each silently judge each cake, until Gabe smacks his lips and shrugs.

“They definitely lose.”

“Gabriel.”

A little body squeezes itself between you and Gabe, and your hand automatically falls to rest on Lou’s head. She’s quiet, happily making her way through a gingerbread cookie and swaying to the music being performed by the town's little local band when Jack peers curiously around you, smiling indulgently at the little girl.

“There you are, sweetheart. Was worried you didn’t make it tonight, thought I was gonna have to dance by myself.”

She grins shyly, hiding her face in the long length of your dress and forgetting about the half eaten treat in her hand. You don’t blame her, Jack definitely has that effect on people. 

“Will you dance with me, little lady?”

Lou peeks up at Jack from under her lashes. It takes only a minute until she gives a small nod before pressing the cookie into your hold and reaching out to take his large hand in her much smaller one. He gently spins her as he leads her to the dance floor, and her giggles as her bright red tulle dress flows around her can be heard from over the crowds.

You watch them go with a content smile, before moving your gaze to Gabe.

“Would it be totally lame for you to be seen dancing with your mama?” You ask him softly, brushing a hand over his hair. All the kids from his school are here, and you know he’s starting to reach that age where others' opinions may sway his decisions on things. He still lets you hug him at school drop off and pick up though, so maybe you still have a bit of time.

He gives you a toothy grin, looping his arm through yours and pressing into your side. “I don’t care.”

—

It’s hours later when you finally get him selfishly to yourself, once Lou had promptly fallen asleep on your thick winter coat spread over some chairs in the corner and Gabe had been whisked away to a snowball fight with the other kids. Jack had approached after your yearly duty had been completed with thankfully no one falling into tears, and asked you to dance.

You don’t usually dance. Not properly, anyway. Swinging the kids around and twirling them under your arm while they giggle and jump along is one thing, but this? Tucked up close to someone and trying not to trample on their toes? You haven’t done this in a long time. 

Jack doesn’t seem to mind, and with the feel of him pressed up against you? You don’t care if you seem a little awkward. It gives you both a chance to talk, and without interruptions. You ask more about his work, his life, which he seems to still not want to divulge in as much as you had hoped. He does tell you a little more about himself though, what he enjoys during his limited free time and that he’s starting to realise he doesn’t get away from work as much as he probably should.

“Maybe you should invest in a holiday cabin,” you tease, head tilting in a playful manner as you sway between the other locals crowding the hall. “I’ve heard they’re pretty popular to rent out when you don’t need it.”

“That’s not a bad idea, darlin’. Know any good locations?”

“Nowhere local, I’m afraid. You don’t fit in.”

He makes a low noise of understanding, pushing you softly away only for him to spin you under his arm and drag you right back up against him. You’re fucking giddy at the movement.

“Too handsome?”

“Too much of a grinch.”

“Hey now, that’s not fair. I ate a candy cane.”

“And I heard you singing along to a Christmas song, too.”

“Me? I would never,” he responds gruffly, but when his gaze slides to meet yours he grins. “It’s your fault, sugar. What’re you doin’ to me?”

“Working my Christmas magic.”

Christmas magic? Is that what you’re calling this? He feels like a damn school boy, twirling a pretty girl around at a winter dance. He quite likes it. Working at the office and back to back missions have filled his days sure, but there’s a slight tug of loneliness he hasn’t quite been able to hide with distractions for a long time. It feels damn nice to finally soothe that.

His eyes dance across your face, the hand splayed on your lower back tightening and bringing you in impossibly closer. “You’re workin’ some kind of magic, that's for damn sure.”

Holy shit. Heat immediately flares beneath your skin and spreads across your cheeks, biting sharply at your ears. What a smooth bastard. You fight the urge to shyly curl in on yourself, instead letting your grin widen in amusement as you trail your hand from his shoulder to the base of his neck. 

“Is that right?” You ask softly, fingers gently twisting and carding through the small patch of hair you could reach from under his stetson. He likes that, you discover quickly, catching the way his eyes drop to your lips the second your nails scratch lightly over his skin. Noted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, cowboy.”

His chest heaves with a sigh, his lips never losing that charming upturn. 

Shaking his head at your playful antics, he coaxes you to rest your head on his shoulder with a rumbled, “C’mere,” and it’s impossible not to melt into a fucking puddle right then and there. Thank god he’s got a good hold on you. He thinks you’re working magic? Then what the hell is this?

“You can’t do that. It’s not fair.”

“Do what?” His drawl rumbles into your body from the close proximity and settles thickly in the pit of your stomach. You feel the slightest brush of lips over the shell of your ear and fight the urge to shiver. 

“That. This.”

You’re so incredibly aware of him, of every move and touch. It’s overwhelming, maddening, and you want so much more. He absolutely knows what he’s doing, feels the way you’re practically jelly in his hold. His lips press into the side of your head before his breath ghosts your ear again, and this time you can’t fight the tremble when he speaks lowly.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, sugar.”

Air. You fucking need air.

Jack must feel the same, or at least know what you need, because as soon as you pull away to meet his eyes, he’s giving you one of those heart achingly handsome smiles and gently leading you through the people towards the doors. The night air nips at your uncovered skin, cooling the heated feel of it and thankfully bringing some clarity to your mind. 

Any more of that low honey drawl in your ear and mouth watering aftershave sinking into your nostrils and you would’ve absolutely made a fool out of yourself in front of your friends and neighbours. The last thing you need is to be the topic of town gossip for mounting a tourist right in the middle of the bloody dancefloor.

The few steps are thankfully clear of people when you tread just outside of the hall doors, with the late hour bringing most of the remaining people inside as the temperature drops. The food trucks and stalls had been mostly dismantled and packed away, those remaining still working away before the snow comes in and otherwise ignoring you and Jack lingering on the steps.

You feel the slight tingle of nerves all of a sudden, which is ridiculous considering the amount of time you’ve spent with him recently. Maybe it’s because this is your first time properly alone, without the kids running around and without having to say goodbye. You have time to just be, to enjoy his company and not have to worry about interruptions.

“Forgive me for sayin’ so, sugar,” Jack murmurs, halting your train of thought and bringing your attention fully to him, “but I can’t help but notice—that looks an awful lot like mistletoe up there.”

You fight the immediate tug pulling at the edges of your lips and glance up to where he points, spying the familiar cream bulbs amongst a sprig of fresh green leaves wrapped neatly in a small red bow.

“I believe you’re right, cowboy.”

“Now hear me out… I know I ain’t big on this whole festive season thing, but I figure it’d be mighty rude of me to break a well loved tradition.”

“I agree,” you breathe in reply, eyes falling to where his lips morph into an indulgent smile before snapping back up to meet his warm brown eyes. They’re soft, radiating with such a sweet tenderness that you feel it deep in your chest.

A warm hand cups the side of your throat softly, his thumb brushing your jaw delicately and it’s ever so easy to lean into the touch and relish in the comfort it provides. Your breath seems to hold as he moves in, stepping closer until you feel the brush of his jacket against your torso through the thin material of your dress. He holds for a moment, seemingly content to let his gaze roll along your features before he gives another little smile.

“Would you mind, darlin’?”

Returning his smile is automatic—it simply can’t be helped.

“Not at all, Jack.”

The tickle of his moustache and tender press of his soft lips is nothing short of perfection. You don’t feel the bite of the cold, you don’t hear the music and the laughter and the constant roll of chatter from the hall. It’s just him. Just Jack. It’s all Jack. 

He pulls away far too soon, and you merely make a low noise of denial before curling your fingers into his shirt and pulling him gently back for more. He indulges you with a throaty chuckle, lips returning to yours with a little more pressure, a little more wanting. This time his tongue ever so slightly comes to trace your lips, and they part immediately, the kiss deepening until you feel the effects of it right down to your toes. 

If you thought you were in trouble before, you don’t stand a chance now. The faint traces of peppermint still linger on his tongue and you chase the taste eagerly, stomach in knots when an arm curls around your body to bring you flush against his. Though you’re lost in the feel and taste of him, Jack remains aware of the goings on around you both and inwardly curses the sound of people nearing the door inside of the hall.

Words are mumbled against your lips. 

“Darlin’, is there somewhere we can go a little more private?”

He’s not quite finished with you yet, and he’ll be damned if anyone’s cutting this short. Your boy included. He’s a great kid and all, but not the best with his damn timing. You don’t even realise your hands have wandered, finding a home on his hips and fisting desperately at his shirt.

Private? There’s nowhere private in this town, especially here. The hall is practically the centre of it. There’s out the back, you suppose, where the dumpsters are. It’ll have to do, because you need more of those lips preferably as soon as fucking possible. 

You snatch his hand and start leading the way, the icy air nipping at your arms. 

“Is there nowhere inside? You’ll catch your death out here,” Jack speaks behind you with a tinge of concern as you lead him down the steps and around the building. 

“Guess you’ll have to keep me warm, then.”

“I got no problems with that, sugar, believe me, but still—”

There’s rustling, his hand pulling softly out of yours and then the cover of something heavy and warm, smelling distinctly of that intoxicating cologne that has your mouth watering, over your shoulders. You shift in his jacket, smiling at the typical chivalry that seems to come so naturally from him.

Jack eyes your surroundings when you eventually get around the building, not exactly pleased by the thought of not being able to give you the romantic environment you deserve, but he can’t see or hear anyone in close range and that’s damn good enough for him. He sweeps you into his arms, grinning at your little sharp cry of surprise and crowds you into the wall, his jacket saving your thinly covered shoulders from rubbing against the rough brick facade.

Settling back against the building with a smile of your own, you blink sweetly up at him and tilt your head in playful curiosity. “Is there something I can help you with, cowboy?”

“Yes, darlin’, as a matter of fact there is.”

His hot breath sweeps over your lips and they part in anticipation, your heart beating heavily in your chest as his nose brushes along your own. He drags it out, teasingly pulling away at the last second when you get only centimetres away from his lips and grinning when you make a low noise of impatience.

“Did you need somethin’, sugar?” He drawls deeply, warm brown eyes hooded as they flick between your eyes and lips.

“Oh, shut up,” you groan softly, tangling your fingers into the front of his shirt and tugging him forward. His mouth slants messily over yours, a sudden tangle of tongue and teeth, and you can’t help but moan softly at the overwhelming intensity of it.

A sound that has the power to be his entire fucking undoing, he finds as it ricochets through his ears and right to the very core of him.

Gone is the tender moment of before, cuddled under mistletoe and filled with the warmth of something sweet and unknown. He presses into you fully, firmly, his body pinning you to the wall and giving you the chance of feeling dip and curve of him. His hands grab at your waist, fingers digging roughly into your skin and you curl into him even further, your own hands finding and clutching at his broad shoulders.

You’re left panting against the side of the building when you eventually part, the sound of shouts and laughter off in the distance cutting through the dizzying haze that had fallen over your mind. Jack’s no better, clearly struggling to regulate his own breathing as he braces himself against the wall with his palms, effectively caging you in.

One shared glance and you both dissolve into quiet laughter, either the kiss or the cold bringing a charming pink tinge to Jack’s cheeks, which you trace softly with icy fingers.

“I think the snow’s about to come in, I should get the kids home. Are you still okay to give us a ride?”

“Of course, but I’ll uh… I’ll catch up with you, sugar. I’m gonna need a minute.”

—

Despite the obvious exhaustion hanging in the kid’s limbs, he does a damn good job of fighting the call of sleep long enough to set up for the big visit. Cookies that absolutely had to be presented on a christmas tree dish, a glass of cold milk and nine individual carrots. When Jack asks if using the whole bag was necessary, Gabe levels him with an unimpressed glare.

“One carrot isn’t enough for nine reindeer.”

“That’s a fair point.”

“Will you still be here in the morning?”

Jack casts a glance towards the kitchen, where he can hear you washing the cups that were used for hot chocolate upon getting home. “Uh, probably not, kid.”

Gabe deflates with a quiet oh, his face falling into a little frown. He shifts on his feet, gaze moving from the twinkling Christmas tree to Jack before stepping closer and wrapping his arms around the man. Jack holds still, not exactly sure how to take the sudden sweet affection from the boy whose love language was calling him lame and taking his money.

“Well, Merry Christmas, Jack,” the boy mumbles into his chest, and Jack swallows the sudden feel of something building in the back of his throat as he returns the embrace. 

“Merry Christmas, kid,” he rasps quietly, hand stroking through the hat flattened curls on the back of his head. 

“Alright mister, time to hit the hay.”

Gabe releases his hold as you reenter the room and nods, giving Jack one last smile before making his way to the stairs. You follow behind him, stopping him on the third step and spinning him softly to face you.

“Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yes mum,” he sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling and back.

Grinning, you fix his baggy pyjama top and plant a kiss on his cheek. “And what about your Christmas wish?”

“I don’t need to make it anymore,” he shrugs, and you recoil in surprise. “My wish has been the same for ages, and I think it’s coming true now.”

“Oh?” You frown in curiosity, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. He’s never told you what he wishes for, so the fact he thinks it’s suddenly coming true has you wondering what it could be. “Can I ask what it is?”

“Nope,” he grins, casting one final glance towards Jack before giving you a cuddle and starting back up the stairs. “Night mum.”

You watch him go with a look of interest, listening to the creak of his bedroom door as he closes it behind him. Did he somehow know he was getting a new iPad? Did he find it stashed away before you could wrap it? Damn, you thought you hid it so well. 

“He’s a real good kid,” Jack says from where he lounges against the doorframe of the living room. “They both are.”

“I know,” you smile.

The conversation echoes the one you had when he first came over, and the memory isn’t lost on Jack either as he grins in return. 

“I had a good time tonight, sugar. I suppose this festive season stuff isn’t too bad, after all. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

His grin widens briefly as he looks back to the tree, uncertainty beginning to stir in the pit of his stomach. It’s probably getting to that time of the night where he should leave you to it, no doubt you’d have a few things to organise before going to bed yourself, but he doesn’t want to just yet. Can’t seem to find the strength to grab his stetson and jacket and say goodbye.

He doesn’t want it to seem like he’s expecting anything to happen. The night could end with that kiss shared against the hall and he’d leave a damn happy man, but curiosity has him waiting, wondering what move you’d make next, if any. You don’t say anything for a few moments, comfortable with the silence you share as you each watch the other.

Louisa’s long gone and lost to dreams, the girl barely able to keep her eyes open for more than thirty seconds when Jack pried her from the car to bring her inside. Gabe’s ability to fall asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow should be scientifically studied, so you wouldn’t have to worry about him either.

You quietly start making your way up the stairs, pausing just half way up and glancing back at Jack over your shoulder. He’s watching, waiting. The shy little sultry smile you send him is all the invitation he needs.

Knowing he’s right there and following your footsteps has your heart going wild with every step you take closer to your bedroom. A hand presses to the small of your back when you eventually reach your door and push it open, Jack moving damn near silent as the grave as he steps in behind you and closes the door.

“I haven’t done this in a long time,” you admit, nerves finally getting the better of you when his eyes land on you.

“Don’t you worry about that, sugar,” he replies, stepping forward to cup your jaw and you turn into his hand, seeking the reassuring touch. “Now you’re sure about this?”

A silly question.

“More than anything.”

His mouth is on yours as soon as he hears your words, and your head swims from the sweet press of his lips. It’s soft, a moment to put your nerves at ease and work you gently into it, something you’re thankful for as the tension slowly leaks from your shoulders. You follow his lead, letting him kiss you into an absolute frenzy until you feel brave enough to move your hands to unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders.

It’s when you trail your hands softly over his ribs and stomach does he kiss you deeper and let his own hands wander, palms smoothing over your sides and back before finding the zipper of your dress. You hold your breath as he tugs at it, shivering at the warm fingers that run along your bare skin when it’s finally open.

You slip your arms out of the short sleeves and let the fabric puddle at your feet, your bra quickly following, and your body warms under the way he unashamedly rakes his eyes over you in the muted light of your bedroom. 

“Lay down for me, darlin’. Let me take care of you.”

He watches as you sink into your mattress and wiggle yourself up the bed until your head rests comfortably on your pillows, that charming grin you love oh so much tugging at his lips when you give him another shy smile. 

“You’re beautiful.”

He’s one to talk, standing at the foot of your bed shirtless and looking like that.

“And you’re too far away.”

Your thighs part as he climbs onto the bed after you, crawling between your spread legs and over your body, chasing the taste of your mouth before directing his attention to your jaw, and then your throat. His teeth nip at your skin, his tongue soothes the brief tinge of pain away, and you don’t know whether you’re trying to pull him closer or push him away with the more he works your body into an absolute fever.

Fingers trace the waistband of your underwear and your heart starts to beat that much harder in your chest you think he must be able to feel it under his lips. You start to squirm beneath him when his fingers slip beneath the fabric and run softly over your core, brushing over the slick build of arousal and tracing your clit.

“Fuck—”

“Easy,” he murmurs soothingly against your skin, and you swear you hear a smile in his tone.

A thick finger slides into you, probing and curling against your hot walls before a second joins, and the stretch burns in the best of ways. He works you open slowly, more than content to go at his own leisurely pace and indulge in every twitch of slick muscle and quiet moan he can pull from your lips as he kisses his way along your body.

By the time his mouth reaches your stomach, you’re an absolute mess.

He pulls his fingers from your pussy to rid you of your underwear and you whine at the sudden loss of them filling you, but anticipation builds deep in the pit of your stomach as he settles comfortably between your spread legs, arms hooking under your thighs until they rest over his shoulders.

“Are you trying to kill me, cowboy?” You breathe weakly, biting at your lower lip when you feel his warm breath blow over your pussy.

He chuckles softly, “Sorry, sugar.”

The feel of his tongue making a path between your entrance and clit feels like anything but an apology. Your hand flies to his hair, fingers tangling tightly in it as he applies pressure to your clit, lips sucking at it softly and tongue rubbing slow, firm circles until you could almost go mad from the steady lull of it.

He likes to take his time.

There’s no rush with Jack, no quick foreplay so he can turn around and ask for his turn and get right to what he wants. He seems to enjoy working you up as much as you enjoy being victim to it. He waits until you’re breathless to change course, to alternate between building up your climax with firm laps of tongue and then letting it die down to taste you deeper, open mouth flush to your pussy as his tongue tastes you right from the source, and then right back up to start all over again. 

Again and again.

“Jack, please—”

You feel a touch of teeth against your clit as he grins and you think then and there that he really is out to kill you. Slowly, and very fucking nicely.

“You can handle a little more, sugar.”

“No, no I really can’t. Please, please do something—”

He groans softly against you, and the vibrations against your clit have your fingers tightening in his hair. He does like that. You tug at it some more, breathing another few pleas for good measure and finally—finally—you get what you want. He breaks free of his routine, tongue merciless as it strokes and rubs into your clit.

There’s no room to wiggle or squirm free of his hold. His arms lock around your thighs, giving you no room for reprieve as he chases your climax and you can only endure, barely remembering to keep your noises to a minimum as he drags you up and over the edge and then some.

You’re trembling in his hold when he finally breaks free of you, sweat slicking your brow and clit throbbing from the overstimulation. That damn smile is back on his face when he eventually crawls back over you, placing a wet messy kiss to the corner of your lips when you can only manage a half hearted glare his way.

“How’re you holdin’ up?”

“Shut up.”

“That’s the second time you’ve told me to shut up tonight.”

“Yeah, well… you deserve it.”

He chuckles quietly, resting his body weight against yours and you whine at the rough press of denim to your sensitive flesh. Your eyes flutter closed when his lips close over yours, his moustache wet and slick with your arousal. It’s hard to feel self conscious about any of it when he’s kissing you like this—tenderly, hungrily.

“Jeans,” you murmur into his mouth, hands tugging impatiently at his belt until he kneels and undoes the thick leather band and begins to slip out of his pants.

He’s back over you within minutes and you relish the feel of hot skin against yours, the heavy feel of his hard cock resting against your core. Your pussy clenches as he gives a small thrust against you.

“Do you have anything?”

“I don’t exactly get a lot of action, cowboy. Do you?”

“I wasn’t really expecting to sleep with the town's prettiest baker, sugar.” He grins, eyes warm as they dance across your face. He kisses you again, soft and reassuring. “It’s alright, we don’t have to—”

“No. No, no—please. I’m clean, and I’ve got the rod. Are you—do you—”

“Clean,” he rasps, and with your final nod of encouragement his hips shift until he’s lining himself up and sliding into you. He’s thick, the stretch of him almost too much even with his earlier attentions to get you ready. He stops halfway before pulling back out, only to sink deeper in on the next thrust.

He keeps the pace slow and steady, letting you adjust to the feel of him while kissing you senseless. Your hands are unable to stay in one place too long, going from curling around his neck to keep his mouth on yours, to his shoulders, to his back and hips. You start to rock up to meet his thrusts, coaxing him deeper and harder until he drives into you hard enough to rock the bed and knock the headboard against the wall.

You both freeze at the sudden sound, and he breaks away from your mouth to eye the headboard with a frown. This won’t work, not with the way he wants to have you, the way you obviously want him to have you. And how could he disappoint you? No, this won’t do.

“It’s okay,” you breathe softly with a smile, “we’ll just have to be careful.”

“‘scuse me, sugar,” he mutters after a moment of thought, tugging a pillow free from under your shoulder and leaning up over you to shove it harshly between the headboard and the wall. He gives an experimental heavy thrust of his hips once he deems it in position and your hands scramble for purchase, coming to tightly clutch at his waist.

When the headboard doesn’t knock against the wall again, he gives you a sly look of victory and grins.

“There we go. Now where was I?”

“Doing that again.”

“Of course, how could I forget?” He teases playfully, curling back over you to swallow your broken moans as he resumes the pace he had been working into before.

You clench, tighten and flutter around him as he fucks into you, mouth still so sweet and soft against your own it’s hard to keep up with the contrast of it all.

He kisses you until he physically can’t anymore, breaking away to hide his face into your throat as the slick feel of your pussy builds that tightening growing in the pit of his stomach. He pulls you closer, tangles his fingers with your own, finds every possible way to be even closer still. He wants to drown in you, feel and taste you and be surrounded by nothing but you.

It’s your final barely coherent utter of his name that sends him hurtling off the edge, a long drawn out fuck muffled into the skin of your throat as he feels himself fill you. He doesn’t move from covering you until he’s long gone soft, barely able to bring himself to pull out of you and collapse softly beside you.

His heart hammers in his chest, something else swimming beside the post-climax bliss and he’s not quite sure what to make of it, what to think. This is more than a simple fleeting attraction.

He likes you.

He really fucking likes you. Great sex out of the equation, he likes your company. He likes that you can laugh at and with him. He likes your home and how comfortable he is in it. He likes your kids.

Shit.

Now what?

“You doing okay over there, cowboy?” You ask gently, head rolling to the side to watch him. He’s thinking long and hard about something, and you hope to god it wasn’t something like regret.

“I don’t think I can leave this behind, sugar,” he mutters, eyes locked on the ceiling as he works his way through his thoughts and swallows the brief shake of nerves. “I thought I’d be runnin’ out of town by the time my vacation was up, but this… you and the kids, I don’t think I can leave it so easily.”

He leaves his confession to sink in for a moment, tongue sweeping along his lips as his heart starts to roar in his ears. He can’t look at you, doesn’t want to see the potential rejection build in your eyes before it passes through your lips, so he keeps his eyes away.

“I know I said I don’t have the option of datin’ because of my work, but… would you let me try?”

It’s a long shot. You’ve never had this conversation, never broached potentially taking this further than just a little fleeting moment in your lives. There’s a chance he’s just gone and ruined whatever casual thing you’d both crafted, but it was worth a shot, right?

Maybe he should’ve just kept this to himself and thought more on it back at the cabin.

“Long distance is hard, but we can take it slow,” you decide quietly, smiling softly when his eyes dart to you. “I don’t think I can just let you run out of town and never see you again, cowboy.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Thank Christ. He heaves a sigh of relief and rolls onto his side, coaxing you into his arms and brushing a few fingers gently across your cheek. You turn into the heat of his body, winding an arm around him and letting your fingers dance random patterns up and down his back.

“Would you like to stay for Christmas?” You ask against his chest, nuzzling into his hot skin.

“It’s a special time for the kids, I don’t wanna intrude—”

“You wouldn’t be. You’re invited. They’d love to have you here, if you want to be. Do you think you’ll be able to survive a proper Christmas with us?”

He grins, “I’d love nothin’ more, sugar.”

“So it’s settled. Come on, you grinch. I’ll show you how to play Santa.”

He watches you roll from the bed and tuck yourself into your dressing gown, and you only notice his frown when you’re tying the thin belt and sliding your slippers on.

“What's wrong?”

“The fact that you’re up and walkin’ so damn easily. I’ll take care of that, once we’ve taken care of this.”

—

The chair next to him is empty when he sits down, and Tequila throws a curious glance Champ’s way. He’d half expected Whiskey to be clawing his way back into the building first thing this morning. His desk had been untouched, the corridors empty of his presence. No one had seen or heard anything about him.

Worry begins to stir in his chest, wondering if they’ve maybe pushed him too hard and he’s gone and quit for another agency, but it quickly dissolves away when he realises Champ’s at ease and unbothered. Losing Jack would hit the older man quite hard, so to see him reclined in his office chair with a cigar in hand is a sign everything is well. 

“Agent Whiskey’s extended his vacation,” Champ states, breaking the silence and answering the questions building on the young agent's tongue. “He’ll be back after New Years.” 

Tequila settles back into his chair and grins. So good ol’ Scrooge ended up having a decent Christmas after all. Good for him.

“Finally enjoyin’ some peace and quiet, then.”

“He’s enjoyin’ somethin’, alright. He’s asked for the weekend of Valentine’s Day off, too.”

—end.

[bueckerrss]

tag, you’re it - m. sturniolo

pairing: stalker ! Matt x OC

warnings: stalking, cursing, pictures being taken without consent.

summary: daisy just moved to a new home in a new town what happens when matt takes interest in her?

the triplets live in boston and aren’t famous during this.

ALL OF THIS IS FAKE! THIS IS PURE FICTION! matt will never do anything that is written in this.

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

LOG IN:

USERNAME:matt******

PASSWORD: ********

open up file 5521?

yes no

FILE OPENED

NAME: Daisy Rose Larson

BIRTHDAY: July 10th, 2004

SIBLINGS: one sister. Alison Larson(12 years old)

PARENTS: Violet and James Larson

Daisy just moved a few houses down from me, she currently lives alone and moved here for college. She is nineteen years old, she loves to read and write she graduated from high school as a valedictorian. from what I could gather she has never had a boyfriend, she takes her studies very seriously.

matt looked away from his screen just in time to see her running around the block like she usually did every day in the afternoons, he ducked down a little to keep a closer look at her without letting her see him.

“MATT!” screamed Nick from the kitchen making matt quickly get up close his laptop and get out of his room “what?” he said looking at nick “i realized that we never properly introduced ourselves to the new girl that moved in a few houses down so we were wondering if you wanted to join us on saying hi” spoke chris while putting on his shoes “yea, i’ll go” replied matt putting his shoes on.

knock knock

the knocking grabs the girls attention as she pauses the show she’s currently watching and heads to the door to check who’s there, three figures are standing outside.

“hello?” she said softly as she opened the door to the three boys in front of her “hi, sorry to show up like this but we’re your neighbors we live a few houses down” nick spoke as he stretched out his hand for her to shake “hi, im daisy nice to meet you…” “nick!” he finished with a smile “these are my brothers matt and chris” he continued pointing at each one “nice to meet you guys come in!” she said opening her door more for the boys to walk in “your house is nice” spoke matt as he took in the layout of the house.

“thank you, i’m still decorating and what not but i’m glad you like it. would you guys like water? lemonade?” the girl asked making her way to the kitchen. “water is fine” matt and nick spoke at the same time “do you have pepsi by any chance?” asked chris getting a glance from matt and nick “what i really want a pepsi right now!” whisper chris to his brothers.

the girl made her way back to them with two waters and two pepsis giving them a smile “here you go water and pepsi”

-

friday march 16.

her house is beautiful she said she needed to decorate more but i genuinely think it looks fine the way she has it right now.

matt added more and more information about the girl as he progressively learned more about her. always keeping his eyes on her every time she left her house he would follow her “to make sure she was safe.”

he would also constantly take pictures of her, she went out for a walk? he was a few steps behind with his camera in hand snapping a photo, she was checking her mail? he was by his window sneaking pictures of her and looking around to make sure nick and chris didn’t catch him.

-

matt quickly made his way into his room locking the door behind him as he made his way into the foot of his bed pushing the floorboard down making it pop up, he pulled out a box with all the pictures he’s taken of her and the pictures of things she’s showed interest in. he added a few more photos he had taken earlier that week before placing it back to its original place.

as the girl opened her door about to leave for work she saw a box no mailing address and no sign from who it was from just her name on the top. she brought it inside deciding she’ll open it after her shift.

i have a spare minute she thought as she grabbed some scissors to open up the box. she gasped once she saw what was inside, a perfume she saw at the mall the week before. but who would buy this for me? i didn’t even mention it to anyone.. she thought. she let it go thinking maybe she let it slip awhile ago. she put it on and headed to work.

and that’s how it was for weeks any time she saw something she liked a week later it will show up on her doorstep. it weirded her out at first but she thought it was probably her parents sending her those things.

april 15.

she seems to really enjoy the gifts i’ve been giving her, she obviously doesn’t know it’s me who is giving them to her. she can’t know. no matter how much i want to tell her it can’t happen. i don’t need another incident like eliana. she seems different tho i don’t think i’ll have a problem with her.

daisy was taking one of her usual afternoon walks when suddenly matt’s car appeared next to her slowing down “hey, i was going out for ice cream wanna join?” he ask her as he kept looking to the road and back to her “um sure todays my cheat day anyway!” she laughed as he stopped for her to get in.

“so where are we going?” she asked as she paused her music “we’re going to tipping cow” “holy shit i’ve heard about that place but never had the opportunity to go!” she said with a smile.

the time they spent together the girl had a smile the whole time making the boy fall even more obsessed in love with her.

during that night once she got dropped off by matt she realized she needed to go grocery shopping. the clock read 10:30pm there’s nothing like going grocery shopping at night. she made her way to the grocery store since it was just a few blocks away from her neighborhood.

she was walking out of the grocery shop with a few bags worth of groceries when she heard footsteps behind her, ignoring them thinking it was her own she continued walking. but her gut feeling made her look behind her to see a man in all black following her. she ran as fast as she could throughout the whole parking lot until she got home.

-

weeks passed and she always had the feeling of being followed even if she wasn’t being followed. things stopped after weeks she finally felt free and not paranoid about constantly being watched.

or so she thought one certain day she was taking one of her usual walks around the neighborhood when she saw him again, the man in all black in front of her she quickly turned around and started running towards her house that was a couple blocks away. as she got in she locked her door and closed her curtains hoping that it would make her invisible.

ring ring

“h-hello?” she hesitantly answered

“you think you could run away from me? think again daisy you can never run away from me.” he spoke his voice deep and hoarse.

before going to sleep she made sure all her doors and windows were locked, she had her curtains closed. she took out the bat her dad had given her as a ‘safety weapon’ in case of emergencies like these.

that night everything was normal. the next morning she went out to check her mailbox when looking at them a certain envelope caught her attention “Daisy Larson” was in bolded letters when she opened it she found weeks worth of pictures of her. from her going on her daily walks to her being in class. she flipped the polaroid and in the bottom was written in red ink “say cheese”.

“say cheese?” she repeated in a whisper when suddenly she felt someone grab her from behind and put a cloth into her mouth. she struggled for a moment before knocking out.

DELETE FILE 5521?

DELETE SAVE

LOG OUT

YES NO

when daisy woke up she couldn’t move her arms and legs were tied up she tried screaming for help but the bandanna tied around her mouth prevented her from making any noise. she looked around the area analyzing it, it looked like an old basement or something similar to that she looked around for anything that could help her get out when her eyes landed on the wall in front of her in thick red bold letters was written:

TAG, YOU’RE IT. ;)

—————————————————————

hope y’all enjoy this um it was based off tag you’re it by melanie martinez (love her to death)

and hopefully this was good idek i feel like it’s rushed iddkkkk 😣😣😣

tags 🏷️: @breeloveschris @sturniolobendystrawsposts @hearts4chris @patscorner @lexisecretaccx @tubl-mc @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloblogs

[alicerosejensen]

Find me pt.1

Warning: kidnapping, mention of blood, two-person narrative (Leon v reader), castle with bioweapons, angst, trauma, dark, forced relationships, hints of sexual violence.

Summary: half a year. That’s exactly how long it took Leon to get on your trail and try to find you. He is ready to do anything to get you back, but hope fades every day.

A/N: I'll probably still post this when I get inspired. The warnings will vary depending on each chapter. You can think of this story as a big reference to another Capcom game.

I apologize for any mistakes because English is not my native language.

Feedback is welcome, but no insults please.

Prologue here.

His eyes closed by themselves from lack of sleep when Leon looked at the received data, which for him is now equal to the treasure, or more precisely, the key to the treasure is to you. Ingrid said that this could turn out to be a false trail, the threads that he had been looking for for so long turned out to be either a waste of time, or led to a dead end stopping the whole thing. And only now, six months later, a single clue that appeared literally out of nowhere makes you drop everything and try to find you.

Hannigan looks at the audio file trying to determine whether it is a fake or not. She runs it through a lot of programs trying to make sure that it's not gluing while Leon is standing next to her, clutching the back of the chair she was sitting at.

"Tell me this is a real recording," the tone of his voice was almost pleading and at the same time scared as he heard your recorded crying over and over again.

"Yeah." Hannigan's hesitant voice made Leon lower his head and look at the woman who continued to click her fingers on the keyboard.

"Hannigan?"

"We don't know when this recording was made…Maybe it's a trap. Another false trail that will lead nowhere. We've checked everything Leon! We found a car with DNA traces, but the trail ended. There were no witnesses, no recordings from the cameras, it was as if she had fallen through the ground."

Leon froze. The arguments were weighty, but what does he have besides this record?

"What's the point of being trapped after six months?" He sees Ingrid biting her lip trying to squeeze out as much data as possible. "If this was a kidnapping for ransom or luring me out, they would immediately get in touch, but nothing. So it wasn't me or the money that was needed, but my wife."

"However, we have not been able to find a motive. I checked all the documents, passport, parents, records from the hospital where y/n was born - there is nothing that could give us a tip. It's all clear."

"Or we don't see something," he sighed.

Leon was sure that something was missing. But it was not on the surface, but somewhere in the depths, which is not so easy to get to. When he was informed about the shots in his house and found a mess with a syringe lying on the floor, he really had hope that he would be contacted very soon. He waited a week, then a second without leaving the search, because with the current level of technology it is impossible to completely cover up all traces so that they lead nowhere, and in the end Ingrid quickly found a car with traces of your hair and drops of blood on the back seat, but that was it. You became one of those who mysteriously went missing.

But no one asked for money, no one sent any extortionate emails or calls. At one point, Hannigan even put forward the theory that you could have initiated your abduction yourself, but he refused to believe it. Why would you leave like that if you could just break up with him, even though on the day you left, Leon was ready to swear that everything was fine between you.

So it just didn't make sense.

Leon speaks softly. He is pacing the room, waiting for additional information, at least from where this recording was sent to him. The sound of the keys echoes in his head and Leon rubs his face tiredly, stopping his gaze at your photo.

"There was a drug in the syringe, there was her blood on the needle and on the floor, in total two shots were fired from the Matilda, one into the closet and the other into the ceiling... traces of a struggle..." Leon quietly wondered out loud, trying to understand what he could have missed, but it seems more there was nothing left that he could grab onto.

"Leon?" Ingrid suddenly called and Leon was next to her in one sharp movement. “I think I found it!”

A map and tracked coordinates appeared on the screen, presumably from the place where the recording with your request for help was sent.

"This..."

“Not low beam”

Leon twitched anxiously, seeing the designated forest area, looking meaningfully at Hannigan, who rested her chin on her hand, not believing what she found. At one time, intelligence discovered Ashley in a godforsaken Spanish village, but she was kidnapped with the aim of infecting her with a plaga and sending her to Graham, and what Leon saw on the map defied any logic. How did you end up in a mountain range in another country?

“This is Leon’s mistake. There is nothing there, mountains and forest, another mistake, someone made a cruel joke.”

“Not if there is any hint of civilization there.”

It was an unnecessary risk. Hannigan is still trying to find at least some information about the nearest village in these places. On the one hand, it’s an ideal place to hide a person, but on the other hand, there are no guarantees that you will end up there and that Leon won’t go to hell in a meaningless search. Suddenly you have been dead for a long time, although Ingrid’s female intuition tells her that until he finds your body or at least clear evidence of your death, Leon will continue to sniff out the trail of his beloved, like a devoted bloodhound, even if there are no traces left.

You are not the daughter of the president, only the forces of Leon and Hannigan are sent to search for you, the latter helps him only out of the kindness of her heart, and no one will send reconnaissance to find at least something that indicates that you were even really in this place. But Leon worked as an agent for too long, he saw the underside of this world and in theory assumed that there might be a house or village in which you are being kept for some unknown reason, but even if it’s all a trap and you are bait, then Leon is ready to go there.

"Nothing, Leon," Hannigan's annoyed voice must cut off hope. He himself sees no signs of human life on the screen. “No one even reports missing people in populated areas”

“I don’t have anything else anyway, right?” he answers confidently, taking his phone to get the exact coordinates “The fact that there is nothing on the map and no one reported missing tourists means nothing. There are places that someone hides very well.”

“This is your personal mission… I won't be able to help you there. I can book tickets, find someone to help with the weapons, but no outside support. You'll be on your own there.” Ingrid drawled sadly, hoping that he would come to his senses or at least weigh everything again before taking an unjustified risk, "You don't know what awaits you there, perhaps there is nothing there except trees, wild animals and mountains. Let's check it out again?!"

"For six months!" he exclaimed, "I've been trying for six months as a bloodhound to find at least something that can shed light on the kidnapping of my fiancee. I have the coordinates and her message for help, which you yourself confirmed was not falsified. Even if I can't find anything, I'll at least try. She wasn't taken away for money or to get back at me… there's something else there, and if she's there…" Leon poked his finger at the monitor, "then she's completely alone there. Defenseless and vulnerable to any danger if they want to harm her."

There was an oppressive silence. It was useless to convince Leon to wait at least a little longer before rushing headlong for a single straw, but she had already delayed him enough. All Hannigan could do for him was squeeze out any crumbs of information about the area, record it, and help with the equipment. At least the technical component. And if they both believed in God, they could pray for a successful return.

"Allright, have it your way." she spread her hands in surrender.

The awakening was painful and difficult. However, between brief glimpses of wakefulness that quickly ended with another dream, you could feel Leon's gentle touches all over your body. His breath on your neck and lips was like an apologetic kiss. You tried to dodge, as you usually did in the morning when you were still asleep, but he was persistent, after which you vaguely heard laughter through the veil… Heavy, broken, unlike Leon's usual laugh. Random images flashed before your eyes, and the last thing that made you fully wake up was the bang of your head on the floor and the sound of a gunshot, after which you abruptly opened your eyes, looking straight at the dark ceiling, trying to figure out what happened.

Tick tock tick tock

The sound of the clock ticking filled the space, remaining for a while the only thing your mind could focus on. Your head was pounding painfully as you stared madly at the dial, standing a few meters away from you, barely discerning what time it was. The lump on your forehead throbbed unpleasantly and may have caused a concussion after that bastard hit your head on the floor with all his might so that you lost consciousness. Feeling with your fingers the place where the skin painfully swelled, you painfully hissed down immediately removing your hand, stopping it and tried to breathe deeply trying to put the latest events in chronological order.

However, nausea rolled in waves, forcing you to squeeze the bedclothes in your hands and finally realize that the environment in which you are unfamiliar.

A dark room lit by a single fireplace in which a fire was still burning warmed the space making it less frightening, but the pouring moonlight from the window made the soul shrink from the horror of the unknown. You slowly looked around realizing that you were lying on a huge bed with a giant canopy of a delicate green shade on silk bedding of the same color. Everything seemed so unreal. As if it were a nightmare and now someone will jump out from around the corner at you and you will wake up realizing that nothing terrible really happened, but after sitting on the bed in one position for several minutes without moving in the hope of waking up, in the end you realized that you were no longer sleeping.

Your eyes involuntarily began to look at paintings by unknown artists. A portrait of a woman sitting at a small table with a human skull on it, an aristocrat with noble features as if carved out of stone, ordinary landscapes… You put your feet down on the cold stone floor, immediately shuddering and slowly wandered to the window to understand your location, but all you saw outside was an endless forest area without a hint of roads.

Listening to other sounds besides the annoying knocking of the clock and the fire, you hugged yourself by the shoulders, thinking that it was definitely not worth shouting just yet. The room you were in was clearly made in the Gothic style and in the current situation it only caused discomfort, given the fact that upon closer examination of the paintings you were able to understand that in front of you were originals and not reproductions. Old Varnish should have been removed a long time ago, perhaps it made these stories less dark, but this is clearly not something that should be thought about now. Turning around in search of some kind of closet to throw on something warm, you could see clothes neatly laid out on a dusty chair: a white shirt with wide cuffs tapered at the wrist, which was probably worn with a short tapered floral pink vest without sleeves, reminiscent of a corset with lacing on the chest, dark trousers and elegant boots next to them that look like they are made of real leather. The sole is small but looks comfortable and is just your size.

Examining the clothes in your hands, it was impossible not to notice the quality of the fabric, for the shirt was clearly silk, and besides, next to it, on an elegant carved table, someone had carefully left a metal box with decoration and a fresh red rose, which until recently seemed , bloomed in some garden, filling the air with its aroma.

You lowered your hands, taking the box in your hands, carefully opening it, as if a spider or other crawling crap might jump out of it, which always filled you with uncontrollable horror, but nothing catastrophic happened. Inside was a cameo brooch, decorated along the edge with fifty small stones resembling diamonds, and at the bottom hung a drop of pearls. Leon once gave you something similar, but it was in no way comparable to what was now in your hands. It was clearly worth your year's salary. It’s not like you had a choice… in the corner of the room, of course, there was a chest of drawers, but you couldn’t find anything in it except snow-white sheets, and you didn’t really want to walk around in negligence. Considering the fact that you were given no choice and that at least the clothes looked comfortable, you decided to comply, scared by the fact that everything fit perfectly as if it was tailor-made for you. You even caught the brooch on your vest because someone probably left it here on the table on purpose.

“Well, at least I feel a little better,” you thought, sighing as you found the mirror. The lack of light made it difficult to judge how bad the bump on his forehead was, but perhaps that was for the best. There were still no footsteps or sounds in the room behind the wooden door, but so you quickly put your hair in a not-so-neat bun so that it wouldn't get in the way while you explored the area and tried to figure out what happened to you after you were attacked and left here.

Perhaps you should find a phone and contact Leon or the police directly… There must be some connection, right? Looking back again, trying not to pay attention to the slight dizziness and nausea, your gaze lingered on a metal plate hanging directly above the fireplace with some kind of inscription engraved on it, but you did not look at it or at other objects in the room. . Not now… all that mattered at that moment was to find someone or something that would help you navigate and call for help.

With a soft tread, almost quietly like a cat, you pushed the door forward and it gave way, making a slight creak, forcing only to pray that it would not attract unnecessary attention, your head poked out looking around. Cold stone walls like in a medieval castle pressed down on consciousness, the wind blew down the gloomy corridor so that even clothes did not save too much and you wanted to throw some kind of jacket on top, but you took a step forward rejoicing that there are familiar lamps here, even if they shine a little badly, but it was better than if there were candles here.

However, the candelabra here were also really empty. When you were completely out in the hallway, you couldn't figure out which way to go to the right or to the left. It was too dark on the left and you wanted to go there the least, so you wandered in the direction where the wind was blowing, listening carefully to everything, trying not to fall off any stairs, although it was not very bright here, but still your eyes could distinguish the situation well and in the end you went down somewhere to a single door. Pulling the handle, it turned out that the door was closed on the other side and except for the old junk lying under the stairs, overgrown with cobwebs in places, there was nothing, which obviously made you turn around and go upstairs again, turning into that dark corridor where you initially did not want to go, but it seems that the choice was small.

Of course, you could go back to the bedroom and wait for a miracle or trouble, the latter seemed like a more obvious scenario, but still you can't leave everything on its own, even if you find yourself in the most non-standard of all situations. Eventually, after passing through the already familiar room again, you breathed a sigh of relief when you realized that the corridor was not at all as long as it initially seemed, and the door at the end was fortunately unlocked and led you to some long well-lit balcony. Your heart was beating wildly from fear of the unknown, but you still walked forward with your hand on your chest, walking to the other end, passing by some more locked rooms, stopping only at the moment when you clearly noticed a bright scarlet stripe on the floor as if something was being dragged… … like a corpse, and the red streak seems to be blood. Your feet were rooted to the ground as you looked around in a panic, looking for potential danger. Despite the disgusting silence, no one was nearby or someone simply did not want to be noticed earlier than expected, so at your own risk you decided to follow the bloody trail that ended abruptly. There were stains on the floor as if someone had tried to wash them earlier, perhaps they didn’t have time to do it or… Well, Leon always said that you have a rich imagination, which no one from your family ever argued with, so you decided not to give it free rein just yet because that otherwise it will drive you crazy.

It was all just disgusting. You realized for sure that you were in some kind of castle or giant mansion that clearly needed cleaning in places, and the worst thing was that all the rooms here practically remained locked. After an hour of wandering through the dark corners, you were damn cold and lost in addition, despite the fact that you found nothing and could not go anywhere except a couple of chambers, although mice ran through there a couple of times and spiders wove a web in the corners, which horrified you, forcing you to quickly slam the door and scream several times. No one really showed up. On the one hand, it was calming, but on the other it was aggravating.

You need at least some kind of map to figure out which part of the building you're in at all, but all you've found is useless trash and increased anxiety. Breathing exercises generally helped, which was why you were on the verge of hysteria. There must be at least a landline phone here! Panic was rolling in and my eyes started to water, I just wanted to call Leon and beg him to take you away from here because every rustle or shadow made you jump on the spot. And if someone really chases you? Where to run to? You don't have a mountain of muscles like Chris Redfield and you're not even Leon's equal. Your brain was clearly no longer trying to think of any plan, and it was at this moment that somewhere in the distance you heard a clock tinkling. It was dark outside, you couldn't see a thing, which made you think it might be midnight.

Startled, you looked around again and still decided to follow the sounds, hoping that they would not lead to your death. Another dark corridor gave way to a lighter one, which led you to a wide oak carved door, which made you even momentarily happy as you entered the wide hall with snow-white marble columns and an almost mirrored floor where a mosaic in the shape of a sun was laid out in the middle of the hall. Everything was luxurious and at the same time forgotten, but the clock that brought you here with a loud blow really showed midnight and it was a real antique! You were ready to swear to God that such a miracle could only be bought by a wealthy well-connected collector. Nearby there were several tables similar to those in your room, and although they were very dusty, in the vases that stood on them smelled sweetly of fresh flowers.

It wasn’t so gloomy here anymore, which helped relax a little. With sincere curiosity, you looked at everything that lay on the tables, and would like to turn the porcelain figurines of animals in your hands, something like this always caught you, causing memories to come flooding back against your will, how during your travels Leon could not tear you away from the souvenir shop where you emptied his card with great generosity, but this was not the case. And although you kept your eyes glued to everything you saw, your feet carefully walked down the steps until you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard loud clapping of hands.

You looked up at the source of the sound but didn't see anyone, however…

"So you've already woken up, my dear?"

[mr2swap]

Family therapy: A promising future.

-What do you think of “dad”? The first place medal again, aren't you proud of me?- After the flash of the photo I looked at his old and tired face, he barely made a small smile that seemed totally fake, I knew what was hidden behind his smile, only jealousy and bitterness, I was sure what was going through his mind right now:

“That should be me, you stole my youth, my life, my triumphs”

But I think deep down he knew that all of that was a lie, he wouldn't have been able to get to where his body is now if it wasn't for me his father, Before I took his life he was just a teenager slowly approaching failure.

-HEY! Let's take a picture with just the guy for the hall of fame

My Ex-wife Karol and my son Nathan walked away from me and The photographer started taking pictures of my perfect body, When I did a double bicep curl the camera flash focused completely on me, My son Nathan's face of defeat In my old body was just funny. Maybe at one point Nathan could have accomplished all of this on his own, but now he was just a sad, overweight old man.

-Congratulations… “Son”-

Before I was a retired man, I used to be a teacher and had seen hundreds of kids like my son Nathan, he started skipping a few classes, failing most of the tests, going to the infirmary in PE and then getting caught smoking pot with his friends behind school. I knew if I didn't do something drastic, what would be the end of my son Nathan frying French fries at McDonald's and living in a tiny apartment with his teenage sweetheart who is pregnant.

His mom and I were so sick of Nathan we started fighting, and it led to a divorce, the only thing I had left in my life was Nathan and I couldn't let that last one slip through my hands.

Since there was someone who could help me and that was my old boss and friend, Principal Morris, we had done this trick so many times to deal with the Bullies in the school, just swapping their bodies for a week with their victims would make them turn model students.

I called him and I found out my problem with my son, without asking him, he gave me the recipe for his secret elixir, the body swapping potion, it was enough for two people to drink a bit of that potion, and they would immediately be in each other's bodies, and that I did I poured some into my coffee and into Nathan's breakfast juice, he didn't even notice the taste he drank every drop of that juice until he started to feel the effects of the potion.

Just a little dizziness, A little sleep and a blink later Our souls traded places occupying each other's bodies. Nathan was so confused by the identical person in front of him that he ran off to his room like a madman, he didn't even realize his huge belly was bouncing up and down as he ran his little feet around his old room where I sleep now.

Meanwhile, I was left alone in the dining room admiring my new youth In the kitchen mirror, It felt good to be a teenager again Although there was a lot of work to be done, I ran my hands over my soft and weak arms, but I already had everything planned, he had even bought a membership to the gym that was close to Nathan's school.

When everything seemed calmer in Nathan's room, pretending totally that you didn't know what hadn't happened, I spent hours pretending that I was on the computer looking for my information on body switching and things like that so that Nathan wouldn't suspect that I had something. What to do with this

I tried to calm him down by telling him that he wouldn't have to worry about anything in my body, he could sit his ass on the sulfate all day Watching TV or playing his video games and no one would notice that he was really just a 15-year-old, meanwhile I would go to the school and would pretend to do it.

As the years passed I improved Nathan's life, in just one year Nathan's life improved, his grades were perfect, and all the dedication I put into Nathan's diet and gym paid off, Nathan's adolescent muscles reacted very well to protein powder and weight lifting.

I got rid of the good for nothing, my son's friends and started making new friends at the gym my Gym bros, It's great to be young again, making friends is so easy, especially when you look as big and handsome as me.

And while I was living My second life they need, he didn't seem to get used to his new life, he avoided leaving the house as much as possible, and he became grumpy, all he does is clean the house, go to the supermarket and spend all day insulting kids his age while playing online video games, He hates when I walk shirtless around the house demanding my hard horny muscles or when I pose for the pictures I post on my new Instagram, he was so upset that his life has improved so much that he refused to give me his social media passwords, but it's okay there's nothing to make me proud of old Nathan.

Maybe in a couple of years when Nathan learns what it's like to be an adult responsible for getting back into his body In the meantime I'll enjoy myself a little more being a teenager, maybe I'm ready for dating now, I've always wanted to try something new, and I can't stop From looking at all the hot guys in the gym, and they keep staring at me, I don't think Nathan will mind if I fuck a guy or two while I'm in his body.

Sup If you liked this story or any of my other stories you can take a look at my story archive by subscribing to my page on Ko-fi, there are a lot of stories that haven't been published here yet and that are too hot for Tumblr.

[e-dubbc11]

Ericca, my love. I come to you with a little idea (and challenge) ❤️

We both know how much you love Frank Grillo, so I had an idea for another one of his characters. Leo Barnes from The Purge franchise.

Reader being a sweet waitress at a Cafe where Leo buys his coffee. They always have polite exchanges, bordering on flirting. Maybe some hidden feelings? Then Purge night comes along and by some freak accident she's trapped outside. And of course Leo is there to save the day. And maybe... a little kiss at the end? 🥺👉👈

A little coffee shop meet-cute meets horror. If anyone can do it, you can. I kept it deliberately vague, cause I want you to have artistic freedom 🤣❤️

Sweet Lily,

I love your challenges for me so so much! I’ve been watching a LOT of Frank Grillo lately and yes, you’re right, I love him 🤣🥵 and Leo is obviously a character I haven’t written for before but I loved this idea and I just think he’s so smexy. I know this wasn’t a sleepover ask but it’s been done for a little while so I just wanted to get it out. I hope you like it and thank you again for sending it in! ♥️♥️♥️

A Call for Help

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Sergeant Leo Barnes x F! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, little fluff, little smooching

Word Count: 4.1K-ish

Summary: It’s 2 days before the yearly Purge. You’re working in a coffee shop, and your regular, Sergeant Barnes, comes in just like every morning for his coffee.

A/N: This is my first time writing for Leo and I really really liked it. I’d definitely be willing to write for him again. For those who aren’t aware, Sergeant Leo Barnes is from The Purge: Anarchy.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Los Angeles, March 20, One day before the annual Purge

This was probably one of the worst decisions you’ve ever made. Moving to Los Angeles was a terrible idea and you’ve regretted it every single day since you’ve been out here. Smog, crime, and homelessness were just three of the reasons this was an awful place to live, plus you really missed home on the east coast.

No one put on fake smiles there. You missed the scowls and the open judgement of home and now you were living in a place where the smiles were as fake as the boobs.

But your boyfriend had convinced you it would be a good thing. A fresh start in a new city was just what you needed according to him and stupidly, you agreed with him. What a stupid idea to pick up and leave all of your family and friends behind for a man you’ve known for less than year.

However, about three months after the two of you arrived in L.A., you caught him cheating with bleach blonde bimbo with fake tits, fake hair, and who knows what else was fake on Malibu Barbie.

Feeling ashamed and stupid, you knew you couldn’t go home right away plus you didn’t have enough money to leave. You worked two jobs to make the money you needed so you worked tirelessly in a coffee shop during the day and a few nights a week, you tended bar at an upscale gentleman’s club where the clientele handed you ridiculous tips.

You probably didn’t even need to work at the coffee shop during the day because of the money you made at the club but the more money you brought in, the faster you could get back home and leave Los Angeles far behind.

The aroma of coffee was one of your favorite scents, it made you happy and the veteran owned coffee shop where you worked was welcoming and cozy. You didn’t have to pretend to enjoy working there because you actually did. Sure, you had the occasional rude customer that you had to put a fake smile on for but most of the time, it was a pleasure to work there.

When anyone but your regulars would come in, you and your co-workers would try and make a guess of what kind of coffee they wanted before they arrived at the counter. It was a fun game.

No one really ordered coffee flavored coffee anymore though. It was always a hazelnut concoction, or a touch of chocolate, a pump of this, almond milk, oak milk, or whatever the newest trend was in coffee. They all had to have it…except for him.

He only ever ordered a large black coffee and for that, he was your favorite customer.

Sergeant Barnes had deep brown hair, lightly tanned skin, and his eyes were the color of Tennessee whiskey. His golden amber eyes made your stomach flutter every morning when he came in around 8:30.

His thick fingers scratched at the days old stubble on his cheeks after he walked through the door and the raspy tone to his voice made you weak in the knees every time he said “Mornin’, sweetheart.” Plus, his police uniform really did it for you.

Everyone at work knew you had a crush on Sergeant Barnes. You didn’t really try and hide it. The way you jumped to the front counter whenever he walked through the door was obvious to them, not so much to him though.

Biting back a smile, you saw him walk up to the door while everyone behind the counter scattered so you were the only one available to wait on him.

“Real subtle, you guys.” You said.

Jane chuckled and said sarcastically, “Hey, we know how much you loooooove him. We don’t blame you either, your Sergeant is pretty hot.”

“Alright, keep your voice down.” You said with a slight grin. “He’s coming.”

“Maybe he’s just breathing heavy.” Another one of your co-workers said.

You playfully slapped him. “Tim! Shut it!”

The lines around his eyes crinkled when he smiled at you.

“Mornin’, sweetheart. Anyone give you shit today? I can go arrest them if they did.” He said in a lighthearted tone.

A wide smile stretched across your lips and your voice got caught in your throat as you answered, “Uh, n-no. Not today, Sergeant. The usual?”

“The usual…please.” He replied.

You turned around to fill the cup with black coffee and your friends were looking at you, grinning like idiots. Jane tried to make hand gestures to try and get you to engage in more conversation with him.

It was a little morbid but you started talking about the Purge anyway.

“S-so the Purge is tomorrow night, huh? I imagine it gets pretty brutal in a city like L.A.” You said, your voice shaking a little.

Sergeant Barnes took his wallet from his pants and tapped the machine to pay for his coffee. His expression hardened when he heard the words. The muscles in his face tightened as he clenched his teeth and wrapped his fingers around his coffee cup.

“It is sweetheart and you make sure you’re locked up inside before those sirens go off, understand?” He said in angry tone.

You could feel all of the color in your face disappear and you imagined your face was as white as a marble pillar. You folded your hands together and rested them on the counter to stop them from shaking while staring into his sad eyes.

He could tell he frightened you a little, looking at his body language and hearing the gruff tone to his voice.

“Ah, I’m sorry y/n. I didn’t mean to snap at ya. I just want you to stay safe, is all. Ok?” He said softly.

You nodded and said uneasily as you tried to smile, “Y-yes, I-I understand.”

Sergeant Barnes reached for your hand. His fingers were calloused but his touch was gentle and comforting, almost protective in a way.

“It’ll be alright. I’ll see ya tomorrow.” He said as his brushed your knuckles with his thumb and gave you a warm smile.

He walked out and you didn’t exhale until he was out of sight. That’s when everyone ran up to you making comments to you about how they could tell the Sergeant likes you.

Imitating the Sergeant, Jane said “’I just want you to stay safe.’ Oh my god, he’s into you too!”

“Nah, maybe he was just being nice. He knows I haven’t been in L.A. long so it’s my first Purge out here.” You said.

Jane rolled her eyes. “Yeah, ok. You’ll find out soon enough, won’t you.” She said.

You replied, “I suppose I will.”

7:00 AM, March 21, 12 Hours Before the Start of The Purge

The morning hours were usually pretty busy and time went by quickly but this morning was different, quieter, slower, which you found rather frightening. Even the air had an eerie feel to it because you knew what was coming…the one night a year where all crime was legal, even murder.

Back home you lived in a small New England town where nothing really happened except in larger cities. The next day, you would see all of the carnage left behind. Vandalism, robberies, burning buildings, the dead bodies…as much as you were hardened by the tough upbringing you had back home, nothing prepared you for what was going to happen 12 hours from now.

And you hated to admit it to yourself but it scared you because you were all alone now. You didn’t have anyone out here to go to feel safe.

It was close to 8:30 and you knew Sergeant Barnes would be in soon so everyone was acting busy, cleaning, preparing online orders, or doing whatever they could to give you space so you could talk to your crush.

Jane checked the time. “It’s almost 8:30, y/n. Hey maybe your Sergeant will ask you to stay with him during Purge hours. He’ll be able to keep you safe then.” She said with a wink.

“Well I doubt it but if you wanna manifest that for me, you’re more than welcome to. My building is pretty secure and I’m high up so I should be ok.” You said.

It didn’t mean you wanted to sit there all night and watch the news because you definitely wouldn’t be able to sleep.

As you wiped down the front counter, you looked up to see Sergeant Barnes getting ready to reach for the door handle. He wasn’t wearing his police uniform though. In place of his uniform, he was wearing a black t-shirt, gray pants, and a black jacket.

You said hello first.

“Good mornin’ Sergeant. You’re not working today?” You asked.

He shook his head, smiled and replied, “Not today, sweetheart. I got some stuff to take care of before tonight. What time are you workin’ until today?”

Warmth spread across your chest and your stomach dropped. Nervously, you replied, “Here? Me? Uh, w-well I’m working until 2 and then I have some errands to run before I go home for the night. Lemme get you your coffee.”

You turned around and poured his coffee into a cup, your hand shaking slightly which he noticed.

“You ok, y/n?” He asked. “Nervous?”

With a hitch in your voice, you replied, “Yeah, well, uh maybe a little.”

“Tell ya what…how bout I check on ya right before the sirens go off, make sure you’re home and all locked up.” He said, sliding his phone across the counter. “Put your number in there and I’ll call you, ok? I promise.”

You felt your shoulders relax and your hands stopped shaking as you typed in your number into his phone. You were feeling better already.

“Thank you, Sergeant Barnes. This is really nice of you. Can I get you anything else for the road? A muffin or a breakfast sandwich, perhaps?” You asked.

“I’m good with just the coffee, sweetheart. Thank you. And y/n?” He said.

You looked up from the register and replied, “Yes?”

“It’s Leo…my first name is Leo.” He said with a wink.

You couldn’t hide the fact you were blushing now. Biting down on your lower lip, you managed to reply with, “Ok…Leo. I guess I’ll talk to you soon.”

Leo brushed your knuckles with his fingers again and replied, “Yes, you will.”

After quickly running to the store for some supplies, mostly food, you headed for home. It was 6:30, plenty of time to walk home and get settled before the sirens went off. But when you arrived at your building, everything was locked up tight. Metal panels were fastened to the side of the building, blocking all of the exits, leaving only the fire escapes open.

You looked at your watch…6:50. There wasn’t any time to find a safe place to go. Looking down the street, you could see figures dressed in dark clothing, sweatshirts with hoods, and wearing creepy face masks, they were just waiting for those sirens to go off indicating the start of the Purge. And you couldn’t be sure but you had the sinking feeling that they were looking right at you.

Suddenly, your phone started to ring. You didn’t recognize the number but remembered Sergeant Barnes said he would call later to make sure you were alright and ready to wait out the next 12 hours. Maybe this was him.

With a shaky finger, you pressed the answer button.

“H-hello?” You said with a hitch in your voice.

He replied, “Hey y/n, it’s Leo. Just callin’ to make sure you’re home and safe.”

There was a long pause because you were trying to regain your composure to answer him, otherwise you were going to burst into tears.

He said your name again.

“Y/n? Hello?”

You finally answered.

“Y-yeah, I’m here Leo. Uh, I’m locked out of my building! I came home and everything was shut up tight, I can’t get in! I don’t know what happened! I can’t get anywhere in five minutes to wait out the next 12 hours, there’s no time!” You said in a scared tone.

Leo barked into the phone. “Where are you?!!”

You told him your address.

“Yeah, ok I know where that is. Try and find a place to hide and I’ll be there in FIVE minutes!” He said.

Tightly hugging the walls of your building, you crept around the corner to the alley. You knew there were a couple of dumpsters you could probably hide behind. He said five minutes which would take you right to 7:00.

You told yourself, “it won’t be for that long…he’ll be here soon.”

There was a small space in between two large dumpsters you managed to wedge yourself into while you impatiently waited for Leo to show up and how was he already so close to where you are? Did he live nearby? Was he participating in the Purge?

A restless shiver shot down your back as goosebumps danced across your skin. The hair on the back of your neck was standing on end as you crouched down low and out of sight while hugging your body to try and stop yourself from shaking uncontrollably.

Just as you heard the sirens, you also heard voices at the end of the alley, none of which were Leo’s.

“I saw her come down here.” One of them said.

Another replied, “You didn’t see shit, there’s no one down here! Let’s go.”

Along with their voices, the sound of a wooden baseball bat being dragged across the pavement could be heard echoing all around you. There was no place left to hide and you could only hope they would get frustrated and leave.

“Wait. She could be hiding around those dumpsters down there. Let’s go check.” He said.

Shit.

You couldn’t make a run for it. There were a lot more people waiting outside the alley than inside plus Leo told you told you to stay there. He was coming for you.

You could hear the footsteps getting closer and your heart was racing as it beat faster and harder against your chest until the sounds of the baseball bat stopped and you heard the voices again.

“You were right. She’s over here and she is a pretty little thing, isn’t she.” He said.

Two of them were wearing these creepy white masks and a third had his face painted white, black circles drawn under his eyes and an upside down cross had been drawn on his forehead. Pointing his machete at you, he silently told you he wanted you to come out.

The ones with the baseball bats began striking the dumpster over and over again, scaring you each time the bats hit against the dumpsters and the loud noises echoed throughout the alley.

The tears came hard and fast. They streaked down your cheeks uncontrollably as you opened your mouth to try and speak to them.

“P-please, y-you don’t wanna do th-this.” You choked out.

One of them that was holding a bat, stopped to look at you. From behind the mask, it had appeared that he had recognized you.

“5C?!” He said.

5C was your apartment number.

You replied, “Yes! Yes! I’m in 5C!”

“She’s always nice to us, man. Come on, leave her alone.” He pleaded.

The leader shoved him out of the way.

“I’ll decide who lives or dies! You got that?!” He yelled.

The other two nodded as the one with the machete started to speak again but was suddenly cut off. You heard three gun shots, then each of them hitting the pavement and crying out in pain. They had all been shot in the knee caps.

“Let’s go! Come on, y/n!” Shouted Leo.

He waved you out from in between the dumpsters, grabbed you by the hand and you started running toward the black car that was parked at the end of the alley.

“Get in the backseat and stay outta sight, understand?!” Commanded Leo.

Out of breath, you managed to choke out, “Y-yes. I understand! But why are you out here, Sergeant? You’re dressed like you’re…Purging!”

Leo didn’t answer you; he just started driving.

“LEO!!” You said, angrily.

“You could just say ‘thank you,’ sweetheart, alright?! I like you but what I’m doing out here is none of your concern.” He said, glancing at you in the rearview mirror.

Softly, you replied, “Thank you…thank you for saving me, Sergeant. But you’re stuck with me for the next 12 hours, so can you please tell me why you’re out here, dressed like you are, and why you have a car full of guns? Please, Leo.”

Cowering in the backseat, your eyes met his gaze every time he glanced at you in the mirror. His eyes were the color of amber and right before the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, they reflected in the mirror, matching the gold in the sunset. They were beautiful.

Leo was always very pleasant and nice every single morning when he came in to get his coffee but there was something very sad behind his beautiful eyes. Other than the pleasantries, you didn’t know anything more about him than any other customer of yours…but you wanted to.

He pulled over in an area that seemed pretty safe and parked the car. Making sure the doors were locked, he turned the engine off, and leaned with his back against the window so he could look at you.

Without warning, he told you why he was out tonight.

“My son was killed by a drunk driver but since he technically died on Purge night, the driver got off on that technicality.” He said in a low angry voice and a touch of acid in his tone.

Your heart sank into your stomach and cutting through the silence you said, “Oh Leo…I’m…I’m so sorry.”

That’s why his eyes were so sad.

He replied, “So you said I look like I’m dressed to purge…well, you’re right. I am. I want that son of a bitch dead. He took my son from me and I want him to pay for what he did.”

You placed your hand on top of his. The smooth skin of your palm brushed against the rough dry patches on his knuckles and with your other hand, you slowly and carefully brushed the stubble on his cheek.

“Don’t look at me that way, y/n. I already know what you’re going to say.” He said before you cut him off.

“Well I’m gonna say it anyway, Leo. You’re not gonna feel any better and it’s not going to bring your son back!” You said.

Leo glared at you with his whiskey colored eyes and with a dry bitterness in his throat, he said, “How do you know I won’t feel better?! Huh?!!”

Instead of matching his intensity, you calmly but firmly said, “Because that hole in your heart will still be there when it’s all over. Please don’t do this.”

He didn’t care and he wasn’t hearing what you had to say.

“Listen, I’m gonna drop you off at my apartment. You’ll be safe there ‘til I get back. I disabled one of the security panels at his house so it will be quick, in and out and I’ll be back alright?” He said.

The entire ride back to his apartment, you begged him not to go through with it, to the point where you tried to block him from leaving or at least taking you with him but it was no use.

He left you with a few guns and weapons, just in case but he said he would be back soon and he would take you home in the morning after the Purge was all over.

Leo had secured his place really well so you felt safe but scared for him. You knew it wasn’t going to make anything better, it wouldn’t help him heal, and it wouldn’t bring his son back.

One of the pictures you found of Leo’s son had his name written on the back…Nicholas. He had a very sweet face and he looked a lot like Leo.

Maybe if you had tried harder to keep him from leaving, Leo wouldn’t be out there right now murdering the man who killed his son.

You couldn’t even begin to try and know how he felt but he was in agony and the only way he knew how to deal with it was an eye for an eye. It was too late though and all you could do was sit and wait for him to come back.

You had managed to find some tea and the tv remote control. It was hidden in the couch cushions. Almost every channel was covering the Purge but all you wanted to do was escape from it so you searched until you found a movie that was far from anything that was going on outside.

No matter how many times you’ve seen it, The Wizard of Oz was one of your favorite movies so you watched it whenever it was on tv and no matter where it was in the movie too, you’d still watch it to the end.

At around 12:30 you head keys in the door. You had been too wired to try and sleep so you just drank tea and nervously bit your nails. Obviously, it had to be Leo if he was using keys to get inside but you still didn’t want to take any chances so you positioned yourself in front of the door with one of his guns in your hands.

The door cracked open and you heard a voice from behind it.

“Sweetheart, put the gun down, it’s just me.” He said.

How did he know?

“It’s been hours, Leo. Where have you been?” You asked. “Where does this guy live?! I hope you got what you wanted out of it because—“

Leo interrupted you.

“I didn’t do it.” He said softly.

“What?” You replied in a very surprised tone.

He closed the door behind him and started to walk toward you, stopping inches from your face.

“I could have. I was in the guy’s bedroom, while he and his wife were sleeping. I could have done it but then I kept hearing a voice in my head…your voice saying ‘that hole in your heart will still be there when it’s all over.’ Your voice stopped me from pulling that trigger.” His voice sounded extra raspy.

“Leo—“ You started to say before he cut you off.

He pinched your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, tilted it upward so you were looking into his eyes and he planted a soft kiss on your lips.

“I’m sorry.” Said Leo. “I just wanted to feel something other than hate and sadness. And no one has been able to change my mind once I’ve made up my mind about something but I listened to you.”

You replied, “I imagine that couldn’t have been easy but…I’m glad you did. And I’m not gonna pretend I know what you must be feeling because I don’t but I do know that it wouldn’t have made things any better.”

Closing the gap between your faces, you kissed him. Leo’s lips tasted sweet like caramel and black coffee. His mouth slanted over yours which made your entire body shudder.

Pulling you into an embrace, the two of you stood there in silence for a minute. Leo released a long exhale down the side of your neck, goosebumps erupted across your skin, and he squeezed you tightly against his chest.

“Thank you.” Whispered Leo.

You gave him a warm smile and replied, “You’re welcome, Sergeant Barnes.” Glancing at your watch, you asked, “Well we have about 6 hours left, what do you wanna do?”

As he brushed a stray hair away from your face, he replied, “Well…if you can’t tell, I kinda like ya so I’d love to get to know you better.”

Warmth spread across your cheeks as you bit back a smile.

You felt safe in his arms and deep down you knew Leo would never let anything bad happen to you. He rescued you barely knowing anything about you, only that you poured his coffee every morning but he did it anyway.

And in a way, you rescued him too.

Softly against his chest, you whispered, “I’d like that too.”

Tag List: @gijos

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Tomorrow's Stars [Spencer x Reader]

Photo Credits: Left (@nietxsche) Center (@444vampireluvv) Right (@milla984)

Prompt: Spencer is struggling with his desire to stay clean from his addiction. He ends up wandering into a new store and getting his tarot cards read for the first, as well as meeting the reader concerned for him. The cards foretell both sadness and happiness, but not for who. 

Pairing: Spencer X Non-BAU-Reader

Category: Angst/Comfort 

Word Count: 5.9K 

Content Warnings: Mention of drug use and addiction [Spencer], brief mention of death due to drugs [part of a case], food and drinks are mentioned, alcohol is mentioned, and mental health concerns. If I missed any, anything please let me know!

A/N: Hi all! I hope you are all doing very well! Yes, it is whump-tober, but I bring you a Spencer comfort fic before we dive into the pain that is to come. And it is coming. I have had this Spencer fic idea for so long, and I am happy with how it turned out. I am still busy, but as per usual, I’m also still writing. Thank you to everyone who has kept up with me, or to any new readers or followers! Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love, you are so special. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

y/l = your last name 

y/f/f = your favorite flavor 

Diss = dissertation

It hadn’t started this way. Not with y/n in his arms as she drifted off into sleep. It had started with the Diluted and trying to get off of it. After the worst slump of his life, Spencer had been in desperate need of distraction. His brain wouldn’t slow no matter how many topology equations he solved, or how many digits of pi he could memorize (89,004); his brain wouldn’t stop. And though he knew it was killing him and his career, the drug had slowed him down and had let him breathe for the first time since adolescence. 

The drugs had stopped, of course. Even in the throes of his addiction, Spencer knew that he’d either die from the habit or be made to stop. Thankfully the latter had happened and Reid spent the first few weeks trying everything to distract himself or do the opposite. He’d been swimming at 5:00 AM in his apartment pool, to all the coffee shops, to running, but Reid didn’t love the exercise and if he drank too much caffeine and sugar, it only made his brain and anxiety worse. 

After one of his tougher mornings, full of aches, cravings, and wandering like a vengeful spirit, he passed onto a side street that he’d never been on before. If he was in his car, he would have missed it every time. Something about the oddity of the shop offering Spiritualism advice, books, tarot cards, art, crystals, and more, as well as the fact that it was a new thing in a place he’d been for years drew him in. 

The small bell on the door chimed as Spence entered the small shop. The walls were black, and the older lamps and light fixtures were polished brass which shined in the antique mirrors placed on the walls. A voice from the back of the shop said, “Welcome in. Make yourself at home. If you have any questions just shout.” Reid couldn’t help but smile as he looked over the shop. Spencer didn’t believe in this kind of New-Agey belief system, but he didn’t believe in standard religion either. To him, if it brought someone comfort and it wasn’t hurting anyone, people could believe whatever they wanted. It just had never been a comfort to him, but the shop seemed to have some unique books and art, plus he thought it was nice that the proprietor was comfortable enough to be in the back and not worry about any of their things being stolen. That normally meant the products were all junk or the owner had a good clientele. Spencer assumed it was the second option as he caught sight of a special case with more expensive products unlocked. 

Spencer drifted around the shop, looking at the crystals first and discovering which were fakes and which weren’t. Reid slightly raised his head as the bell rang again and a gust of cool air entered the building. A soft voice called out, “Hey Helen, I’ve got bad news.” A response came from the back, “Really, y/n? What happened?” The sound of footsteps passed Spencer and he watched as a woman moved past him and toward the back. She shot him a small smile as she moved to find the owner. Spence now half looked at the crystals and half listened to what the woman had to say. The sound of a chair scraping on the floor was quickly interrupted as the young woman said, “Well, I went to Brixton’s like you recommended to try and find  Kriessals' translation and the owner told me that he had just lent it to a private collection. I assume that’s code for, he sold it.” The store owner sighed and replied, “Damn, I’m sorry, y/n. That was the last lead I had for that text. Finding copies is notoriously hard, but that sucks.” 

Now Spencer was invested, and he peaked his head around the corner. As a scholar and an academic, he had to know what this book was. He hadn’t heard of the author before. Spence stepped into the aisle and cleared his throat before saying, “Sorry I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. I’m a bit of a bibliophile, maybe I could help you find the book you’re looking for?” The woman who was standing next to the owner of the store blushed slightly either from embarrassment, or surprise before replying, “Well, at this point, I have really looked everywhere, but it’s a horrible German translation of The Necronomicon, translated by Joseph Kriessals in 1910. It’s a disaster of a translation that most copies were thrown away or forgotten.” 

Reid nodded his head. He hadn’t heard of that translation, but he had read the original and a few other translations. The topic of the book made sense in a place like this, so he joked, “So, are we trying to summon some demons of Germanic origin?” y/n laughed and looked at the floor before looking up, saying, “Unfortunately not. I am trying to look at mistranslations and intertextual references in occult documents during the 1900s for a postdoc that I am very much regretting at this point.” 

Spencer understood this struggle well, and excitedly asked, “Oh, is it one of your core documents for your dissertation? I made that mistake once and I had to have an hour-long conversation with my chair about why I moved from an Old Germanic text to an Old English poem. She didn’t think it was funny that I said they were the same thing.” y/n let out a little chuckle as the store owner looked between them, mild surprise painted on her face. 

y/n looked up and said, “Wow, people rarely get so excited about an old book. Have you heard of it before?” Reid nodded his head no, and replied, “No. I haven’t heard of that translation, but I can see why it might be hard to get a hold of. I guess I was just surprised when you said your topic it’s…” Spence cut himself off before he finished his sentence, not sure if the comment would be appreciated. However, both women raised an eyebrow and Reid laughed softly before saying, “I guess I was surprised that you were a skeptic is all. I would have guessed that not a lot of non-believers would come to a store like this.” The comment was mostly directed to the store owner who wore a sly smile as he made his statement. The older woman said, “I assume you're a skeptic as well then? What brought you in?” 

Reid reddened and said, “Well, to be honest, I was a bit bored. I don’t mean to offend you.” The woman smiled before replying, “Oh. I’m not offended, dear. I think no religion or belief system is worth believing unless it can hold up to some scrutiny or doubt. I most certainly don’t know everything and I don’t pretend to. Little miss y/n over here probably does, but she’s holding out on me.” y/n rolled her eyes at the woman and said, “Oh Carrol, please, you know I’m an idiot.” The three of them shared a short laugh before y/n stood straighter and extended her hand to Spencer, saying, “Hey, I’m y/n, y/l/n. And this is Carrol-Anne. It’s nice to meet you.” 

Reid smiled and said, “I’m Spencer, Reid, it’s my pleasure. I am really interested in your research. Maybe I could help you find that book if you’d like me to.” y/n nodded and said, “At this point, I’d take any help I can get. I’m desperate enough to have my tarot cards read, maybe they could tell me where to find that damn book.” 

Spencer had eyed the dark and decorative card on the folding table. Carrol-Anne noticed his gaze and asked, “Have you ever had your cards read, Mr. Reid?” Reid nodded his head no, and replied, “No. I’ve never really been in a scenario where it was appropriate.” Reid thought back to all of the cases that dealt with the occult, the Satanic Panic, or New-Age religion, where there had been tarot cards involved. There weren’t many but a few stood out. Once Spencer had his head cleared of those violent memories, he realized that Carrol-Anne had offered to read his cards for him. Caught by surprise, Reid nodded and took a seat at the empty chair across from the store owner. 

Carrol held the deck out for him and said, “Please shuffle these for me. Try and focus your energy on them. I’m just going to do a basic reading for you.” Spencer nodded and did a few simple shuffles of the deck. He didn’t do anything fancy that I might have done if he was at a poker table in Vegas. Even if he didn’t believe in this kind of thing, it was clear that Carrol-Anne did, and he wasn’t going to disrespect her by playing some of his card shark tricks on the deck. When he was finished, Spencer handed the deck back and Carrol began to spread twenty-four cards in a circle on the table. When this was done, the woman placed the extra cards aside and looked up saying, “Alright, Spencer, I’d like you to pick three cards. It can be at random, or if you feel pulled to certain cards that’s alright as well. Please just point to the cards you’d like to pick. Don’t turn them over.” 

Spencer looked at his options. He didn’t have any specific draw to any cards. He considered picking three cards right next to each other, but out of interest, he decided to pick cards that were equidistant from each other. He went counterclockwise and selected each card. Carrol smiled at his choices, clearly she’d seen the pattern before. Caroll picked the first card Spencer had picked. Flipping it and placing it in front of Spence: The Hermit. The next: The Hierophant reversed, and last: the card directly in front of him - The Tower. He looked at them not sure what he was supposed to divine from the pieces of paper. 

Caroll looked at the cards for a moment longer before saying. In front of you is your past, present, and future. The first card you picked, The Hermit describes obedience, dedication, and intellect. The next card, The Hierophant reversed, indicates that you have a strong moral code and ethical approach to life. I sense perhaps a bit of Stoicism and Utilitarianism. Lastly, your future is The Tower. This indicates that your life might change suddenly and not in a pleasant way either. This could be a mental, physical, or spiritual shift, and it’s likely to come when you don’t expect it.” 

y/n looked between the cards and Spencer to see if he looked convinced but his face was mostly void of emotion. A system of his drug withdrawal that neither woman would know about. Wanting some insight into what her sitter thought, Caroll asked, “So, do the first two cards seem close to you, even just a bit?” Reid’s eyes met her and he said, “Yeah. It does. But I guess it could fit loads of other people too.” Reid said it with false confidence, the last card, even though he didn’t really believe it, had him worried. He heard the store owner heave a small sigh like she’d heard that a thousand times before. He noticed her hands reaching to put the cards back in their case but he said, “Wait, can you pull two more cards?” 

Caroll looked surprised and then pleased, nodded her head, and replied, “I’d be happy to, but this time, I’d like you to at least give me a direction. What would you like the cards to tell you about? If it can be broad, that's generally better.” 

Spence took a moment, he’d panicked and asked before he’d thought that would be a question he was asked. He contemplated what he wanted to know the most. At the moment his biggest fear was the unknown, so he finally decided, “I’d like to know if I make it.” This response got slightly worried looks from y/n and Caroll, but she motioned for him to pick the next reading, which he did. Caroll removed the cards from the first reading and placed the last two in front of Reid. The first was the Sun reversed and the second was the seven of wands. Caroll didn’t wait this time as she said, “The first card, the Sun in reverse means sadness or negativity.” Spencer did react to this card. He looked troubled. Caroll tried to reassure him by saying, “This isn’t always our sadness. It could be someone else's, like a friend or neighbor. You never know with the cards. And the second card is the seven of wands. This is good. From what I’ve seen so far it seems you’ve struggled in some way, but this card talks about perseverance, you maintain control, even in difficult situations.” Reid nodded and felt a bit reassured. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he needed something positive before he went back on his meandering walk. 

Reid looked at Caroll and said, “Thank you for doing that. At least I’ve learned what reading is like now. And the cards weren’t wrong.” Caroll smiled and replied, “Anytime you want a reading, you can come right in, dear.” Spencer nodded and stood up from his chair. y/n touched his shoulder and he turned to look at her. It was like while during the reading, everything else had disappeared and he smiled at her as she handed him a slip of paper and said, “Here’s my number and school email if you do have any luck finding anything to do with that blasted translation. I wrote the name of it on here again in case you forgot.” Spencer smiled and said, “Thanks, y/n. I do have a pretty good memory, but it never hurts to have a reminder.” y/n nodded and said more softly, “You know, you can call me if you ever need anything, or you like, need to talk.” 

y/n tried to say this in a way that didn’t sound like she was patronizing Spencer. She knew the feeling well, and it was one of the worst feelings she’d had as an adult. Other friends, family members, and mentors asking you what you were doing with your life, and having no answer didn’t feel great. It wasn’t like y/n had wanted to finish school without a clear path. It frustrated her to this day. She looked at the tall man to make sure that he hadn’t taken her offer that way. He just seemed sad, and maybe he needed a friend. Thankfully, he smiled and said, “I might take you up on that. Thanks, y/n. I better head out or I might get hypnotized or something.” y/n chuckled and waved him off saying, “Bye, Spencer.” She watched him walk out the door, wondering if she’d see him again. Little did she know that the reading that had just happened would bind them closer together in time. 

Life kept moving as it always did and Spence kept wandering through it. He did have the added benefit of having a text to find. When he had depleted his resources in the States with little to no help, he finally reached farther afield. One of his friends and a fellow academic, John Fisher, who was looking at extant texts in Germany at the Benedictine Archabby of St. Martin, was one of the people he reached out to. However, John was infamously bad at checking his emails. But Spencer was hopeful that he’d have an answer. 

As he waited, the days got darker and his depression sank lower and there was a moment when he almost slipped into using again. He was so close but his future card came into play when a new case came up in Ohio. The Unsub was targeting teens in middle and high schools with tainted drugs and the look on the victim's parents' faces, and their utter grief at how their children had been stolen from them was a reminder enough to Spencer that his life was worth more than a momentary high. Later that night, he poured his stash into the toilet of his hotel room and dumped the bottle in the motel’s dumpster when he pretended to take a call so the team wouldn’t think he was just wandering off. That was the first big change that happened to him and it was a sudden upheaval. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy to never want that feeling again, but he now had some new motivation. 

In the New Year, Reid heard back from John who had good news. He had a friend who had a few pages of the text that y/n was looking for, and he would send them to Spencer once he had them scanned and had access to Wi-Fi. When he received that email, he texted y/n. He’d kept her number just in case he could end up helping her. He hadn’t forgotten how kind she had been to him at a low moment last year, and even though he hadn’t called her for help or encouragement, he still appreciated her. He hoped she remembered who he was after the months that had separated them. 

Thankfully. y/n did remember him and was very happy to hear from Spencer. Reid had planned on just emailing her the file, which he warned wasn’t a full copy of the text, but y/n asked if he’d like to grab a coffee that weekend before he could propose an all-electronic handoff. Spencer paused. He smiled and agreed, happy to be out of his apartment, which he had been doing more of in the new year. His life had actually been looking up so far. 

When Reid walked into the cozy coffee shop y/n had recommended, it only took a moment for him to spot her. y/n’s face was buried in a pile of papers which she had spread across a small table with two seats. Spencer cleared his throat and y/n looked up at him; her eyes shining when she realized it was him. 

“Spencer. Oh my God, it’s so good to see you. You’re such a lifesaver.” Reid chuckled at how accurate y/n’s statement was as y/n started quickly trying to neaten her piles to make space for him to sit and set his wallet and keys down. Reid asked, “Am I interrupting something important here?” y/n sighed and said, “You know, I promised myself that I wasn’t going to do any work on the diss while I was waiting for you, but I got here early and, well, the things just seemed to come out of my bag on their own. I swear, this is the second dissertation I’ve written and you’d think I’d have learned how to not have procrastinated with the first one.” Spencer sat down and said, “Oh, I understand the struggle. Suddenly any time is good writing or reading time.” y/n nodded and said, “You get it alright, I’d say it’s a chronic condition for academics.” She looked at Reid and asked, “Can I get you a drink? I do owe you more than one for this.” 

Spence smiled and replied, “Okay, can I get an oat milk latte with vanilla syrup and an extra shot of espresso?” y/n nodded and moved back to the counter, pulling her purse with her. While she was ordering, the agent peaked over at y/n’s hurried notes, and after a few seconds, he noticed some interesting trends she had picked up in the manuscripts she was reading. He quickly skimmed the text to better understand the context of her notes. By the time y/n got back with his latte, he had loads of questions and suggestions for her. He saw her smile and as per usual, he expected that she might want the small talk that many did when just meeting for a chat. He didn’t want to seem rude, but once he was handed his drink he said, “Sorry, I couldn't help but skim some of your comments and I had some questions about some of your notes, particularly the ones from lines 110-135.” 

y/n like most researchers lit up at being asked about her work and she asked, “Are you sure? I could talk about this for hours.” Reid nodded enthusiastically,” which allowed y/n to speak about one of her passions. The pair talked without even looking at the time, but a ping from Spencer's phone made him look at the missed text, and call from Derek asking him where he was. “Shit,” Spencer muttered, stopping y/n midsentence. He flushed and said, “Sorry, I totally lost track of the time. I’m supposed to be meeting a friend right now. He’s giving me running lessons allegedly, so I better go.” y/n smiled and said, “Oh sorry. I didn’t know you had other obligations I would have shut up half an hour ago.” 

Reid brushed off the comment and said, “Don’t mention it, this was more enjoyable than runnings gonna be. I had a great time.” y/n beamed again as Spencer got up and said, “I might have to call you to ask for advice, you could have told me you were some kind of genius the first time you offered to help me.” Reid chuckled and replied, as he got up, Derek was calling him again, “Call me. I’d love to talk again, but I’ve got to run.” The tall agent waved before quickly making an exit out the door and finally picking up saying, “I’m coming, I’m coming. I got distracted.” Derek laughed on the other end of the line and said jokingly, “Was it a girl or… let me guess, a new book?” Spencer flushed and said, “A girl this time, actually. Now hang up, so I can drive without getting a ticket.” 

It was y/n who reached out to Reid again. She had a feeling that he maybe wasn’t the type to ask for repayments for favors, even as big as one he had done for her with finding the text she needed. That wasn’t exactly the case, Reid did think about y/n often, but Derek and Emily’s teasing along with a busy start to fall had left him little time or energy to text or call her. But when the 2007 Beowulf movie had its tenth anniversary and came back to theaters for a limited run, y/n couldn’t stop herself from asking Spencer to come with her. She could only imagine how the genius would react to seeing an almost nude Angelina Jolie as Gredel’s mother trying to seduce Beowulf. y/n was secretly hoping Spencer had never seen the film. When she proposed a tentative plan, Reid jumped on board and agreed. 

The movie was as bad, and funny as y/n had remembered it and Reid was rendered almost speechless as they walked out by what he’d just seen. y/n smiled into the cool evening and said, “That bad, huh?” Spence let out a long breath, before replying, “I can’t believe it. I feel like I need a strong drink to shock me back to reality.” y/n smiled, but she wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. It took Reid a second to realize that y/n didn’t know how to respond. Spencer flushed and continued, “I’d actually like to do that if you’re down for a drink? I have a lot to say about what we just saw.” y/n beamed at him when he clarified his intentions, and she said, “Sweet, you wanna ride with me? That way we both don’t have to overpay for downtown parking.” Spence nodded and followed y/n toward her car, trying to keep his academic thoughts at bay long enough to not scare y/n off the instant he got in the car with her. 

After that first night out of not so much dating, but geeking out about shared passions, y/n and Spencer spent more time together. They’d watch Dr. Who and Star Trek at his place, and meander around old book shops and hidden coffee joints, trying to see if they could make it to everyone in D.C. in under seventeen months. Spencer had done the math, but y/n thought they could do it faster than that. When she had said this, Reid joked, “What, you don’t want to spend seventeen months with me?” y/n had laughed but didn’t fully know how to answer. It was hard for her to tell if what they had was just a strong friendship that had started unusually, or something more. She and Spencer had almost all but forgotten his tarot reading a few months ago. Sadness had been promised, and it was coming, but not for him. 

It was late May and Spencer hadn’t heard from y/n since their last meeting at a game shop where they had started a D&D campaign. They’d spent a fair amount of time together in the past month. It was enough to have the team say a few things about his new “friend,” but not so much that they could say anything about it more than simple teasing. But the lack of communication was beginning to worry him. Finally, on Friday night, he got a text from y/n saying, “Hey Spencer. Sorry, I’ve been MIA. There were some issues at the end of the semester that I had to deal with, but I’ve also been feeling a bit down recently. 

Spencer had remembered how down she felt when he’d first met y/n and something in his gut told him he should be there for y/n like she had been for him, even when he was just a stranger. Reid typed up a quick reply, hoping it didn’t sound like he was too worried about her: “y/n, I’m sorry to hear that. Want me to pop over and bring some snacks and drinks that might make you feel better?” Spencer had only been to y/n’s place twice. They normally opted for his apartment when they were together. However, y/n’s apartment was nice but strange for sure. The first time he’d seen it he thought she was joking. 

It was in the downtown district in an old-looking dilapidated building. From the outside, it seemed like it could have been a set piece from Blade Runner 2049. When y/n had badged herself in and moved toward the elevator at the end of the hall, Reid had looked at the old lobby that was dusty and had sheets draped over any remaining furniture. y/n had seen Spencer’s sceptial expression and chuckled, replying, “Yeah, it’s ‘unique.’ The building is owned by one of my old roommate’s father. He keeps saying he’s going to renovate it and turn the rest of the buildings into apartment units, but hey, I get the entire top floor and roof access, and you can’t beat the rent.” When they’d gotten to the top of the elevator and the doors opened, her space looked normal. There were lots of floor-to-ceiling windows and y/n had decorated it in an eco-brutalist style that worked with the current architecture. Spencer really liked the space, but he assumed y/n was a bit self-conscious about where she lived, thus why they didn’t spend much time at her place. 

When y/n texted back: “Sure, Spencer. I think I’d like some company.” Reid smiled, encouraged that y/n would let him come over. He quickly grabbed his wallet and keys, got in his car, and went to the store. He picked up a pint of y/f/f ice cream, some flowers, and a bottle of red wine. With those things purchased, he went directly to her place. y/n had texted Spence in the store the key code to get the elevator to come down, and that she was on the roof. She had told him to just come up and then on the roof when he got there. 

Spencer felt weird going up to y/n’s apartment without her beside him. When he got inside, some of the main lights were on, but the space was mostly lit by lamps scattered around the room casting a warm glow on her art, plants, and furniture. Reid put the flowers on the counter and the ice cream in the freezer, before taking the wine bottle and moving quickly to the short flight of steps at the back of the kitchen that would take him to the roof access door. Once he stepped outside, a warm breeze tousled his curly hair. He took the last few steps two at a time, and at first, in the darkness, Reid couldn’t see y/n at all on the roof. He felt a panic rise inside his stomach before he finally saw y/n lying in the center of the building. She was oddly still, and he rushed over to her, kneeling to make sure she was okay. 

y/n opened her eyes when he got close and said, “Hey Spencer. Sorry, I wasn’t downstairs to greet you. I didn’t feel like moving.” Reid caught his breath, knowing that y/n was okay, he sat down next to her. y/n moved her eyes from Spencer and back to the night sky. There were a few moments of silence before Spence asked, “What’s going on, y/n? How long have you been out here?” 

y/n sighed and said, “What’s not happening might be a better question. And I’ve been out here for about half an hour.” After hearing the emptiness in y/n’s voice, Spencer wanted to reach out and brush his hands over her shoulder, but he spotted herself. Wanting to be on the same level as y/n, Spencer set the bottle of wine down and lay down next to y/n asking, “You want to talk about it? You were so nice when you met me and I was going through shit, I’d be happy to listen to anything you're feeling.” y/n closed her eyes and looked at Spencer again as if checking to make sure he was serious. After whatever assessment she needed, y/n said, “My dissertation just passed my committee. I get to add another Dr. next to my name.” 

This seemed like the kind of thing to celebrate, but y/n didn’t seem to be happy about it, so Spencer didn’t make a big deal about it. Instead, he asked, “Why is that troubling you, y/n?” y/n bit the inside of her lip before saying, “I don’t know. I was happy to hear that I passed because that was a fiasco, but I just kind of feel empty. I wonder if I’m just going to spend the rest of my life hoping to get degree after degree after degree and never find what I’m passionate about. I can keep learning forever, but I don’t know if that’s going to make me happy anymore. 

Reid felt her admission personally. As someone who had also gotten plenty of degrees, that were helpful to him, he also had done it as a way to distract from the rest of the pain and loneliness in his life.  y/n looked back at the dark sky and Reid did too for the first time. The stars were surprisingly bright with all the light pollution around the building. Reid assumed that it was because y/n’s apartment was higher than the other buildings around it. 

y/n softly said, “When I was young I’d look up at the stars and be so inspired about the future. And in highschool, I once went to Guatemala with some of my friends and we’d go up on the roof of our hostel and look at the stars like this, and I felt so comforted, but I was wrong.” Reid turned his head to look at her as she continued, “*When I got older I realized that the light that we see from the stars is from dead things, all burned up in space. They died out thousands and thousands of years ago. The light we see is just their last message that they once existed.” y/n sniffled, and Reid couldn’t help but put his hand over hers and give it a tender squeeze. y/n stiffened at first, but quickly rolled over, not able to hold back her tears which she cried into Spencer's shoulder. Reid softly shushed her and ran his hand through y/n’s hair with his long fingers. 

When y/n composed herself a bit, she pulled back and said, “Sorry, this is so embarrassing. I’ve been an emotional wreck all day if I’m being honest.” Spencer gave her a small smile and sat up, helping y/n up with him. “Don’t apologize y/n. I understand.” y/n nodded, inside knowing that Spencer wasn’t just saying that because. “So what do I do now?” She asked. When y/n asked this question, Reid knew at that moment that he loved y/n. He wanted to support her more than he had before. He wanted to help build her up to a place of happiness. 

Spence let out a small, nervous, breath, saying, “y/n, we can’t always keep wishing on tomorrow’s stars. At some point we have to wish about now. I don’t have all the answers for you, but I do have a question.” y/n looked at Spence, “What is it?” Spence took his chance and asked, “Will you go on a date with me tomorrow? We could do anything that would make you happy, even for just a few minutes. I’d like the be there for you during that.” y/n’s eyes widened in surprise, but after a moment to process, she nodded her head yes, saying, “I think I’d like that too. It will give me something to look forward to.” 

Hearing this, Spencer smiled genuinely, and y/n finally saw the bottle of wine beside Spence. She gave Reid’s shoulder a small push and she said, “Hey, you didn’t say you brought wine. If you’d brought that out at the beginning I think I would have been happier.” Spencer chuckled as he grabbed the bottle and twisted the metal cap off. He replied, “Well then I’m glad you didn’t see it until now. But now that you’re feeling better, I think we can afford to imbibe a bit.” y/n shook her head with his choice of words before saying, “Are we going to be heathens and drink straight from the bottle, or are we going inside to get glasses.” Spencer said, “Well, I think inside, because it’s starting to get cold, and there's ice cream in there.” y/n’s eyes widened again and she jumped up replying, “Well you’ve got me convinced. Come on slow poke.” Reid laughed as he got up and took y/n’s hand as they moved toward the door. Neither of them would think about it, but the cards had been right. As the pair moved toward the stairs, the stars seemed extra bright.

Text Break Banner by @cafekitsune

*I can't take full credit for this concept as it comes from an episode of The Waltons called "The Minstrel." I try and give credit where ever it's due, so if you liked that line/scene you might check out that episode. Beware, it is a bit sad.

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[pinkslipxox]

hi babe!! i was wondering if you could write a fic where miko and reader are in a fake relationship for publicity but they both end up falling for each other in the end?

Hola mi amor! Yes ofc! Hope you like it 💕

——————————————————————————

You needed the money. Miko needed the publicity. The gist? You had to pose as her girlfriend for a year. The contract details were simple— You would appear at Young Miko's concerts, attend red carpet events together, and post adorable couple photos on social media. At first, you were hesitant but considering the amount of money you were going to receive, it was an opportunity you knew you couldn’t pass up.

Your lifestyle changed overnight. For better or worse, you couldn’t decide. The world that you stepped into filled with lights, cameras and fame almost felt unreal. Your daily schedule consisted of public appearances, red carpet events, and scripted social media posts. Criticism— both positive and negative— about you two circulated everywhere, yours and Miko’s every move watched by fans and haters alike. However, behind closed doors, a different story began to unfold.

As weeks turned into months, the lines of your faux relationship began to blur. You and Miko created a bond, one that was forged through late-night studio sessions, unscripted meaningful talks, and whispered confessions about your fears, your hopes, and your dreams about the future. You even found yourself looking forward to “public outings” with Miko for the sole purpose to be by her side.

You had fallen in love with her.

Something you’d never thought would happen.

And deep down, you hoped that Miko had fallen in love with you, too. The chemistry was hard to deny. It would be a sin to do so.

One evening at an awards event, you couldn’t take it anymore. You were waiting for Miko backstage while she was giving her acceptance award speech, your nerves imposes to ignore. When Miko got off stage, you embraced her, holding her a little longer than she anticipated before you intertwined your fingers with hers and led her to a secluded part of the venue, away from the cheers and applause from the audience.

“Miko… we need to talk,” you began, your voice steady yet hesitant. “I didn’t except to… care for you like this. This—“ You gestured between yourself and her, “feels real. And I can’t be the only one that feels that way.”

“I do, Y/N,” Miko confessed without hesitation as she took a step closer, her eyes locked with yours, glowing genuine care and tenderness. “Yo no quería admitirlo pero… siento algo más profundo para ti, Y/N. I want this to be real, with you.”

“Then let’s make it real,” you murmured with determination as your arms wrapped tightly around each other. “No more games.”

“No more games,” Miko vowed as she gently gripped your chin and closed the small gap between you two.

The kiss was soft, gentle, sealing your fate as a couple. No more fake smiles or scripted captions. Just the two of you, in your own perfect, unique reality.

[wavypotatochips]

Heyyy

Could you do one wereas you've liked Kylain for the longest time but you knew he would think nothing more than you as a friend. Him and his girlfriend break up and she moves on quickly. So he needs to aswell and chooses you to be his fake girlfriend for the meantime. You say yes ofc and it only just makes your feelings for him grow even more. Slowing so does his. Good ending please!

𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙗𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 | 𝙆𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙈𝙗𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Kylian Mbappe x Female Reader

Word Count : 4.9k

𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: So sorry for the wait! I really enjoyed writing this so I may or may not have gone a bit overboard c': teehee hopefully you don't mind the length/ Thank you so much for requesting!! I Hope you like how I represent your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!!

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Since I haven't been able to write much this week, I'm currently catching up on current requests because I'm a little behind. You can submit a request, but please understand that it might take me a week or more to respond. mwah mwah love ya! ♥

You've known Kylian for years and you've always had a bit of a crush on him. 

There's only one issue.

He is in a relationship, and you would never want to get in the way of that. Therefore, you make every effort to keep your emotions hidden and act as though nothing is wrong. But it's not always simple. Every time you're near him, your breath quickens, your palms become sweaty, and his presence takes over your thoughts. You try to divert your attention by concentrating on other things, but it's challenging when he's constantly present. You even find yourself inventing excuses to spend more time with him, despite the fact that it is only making things worse for you. You feel guilty for having these feelings and being unable to control them. You are aware that keeping your distance and attempting to move on are the wisest course of action, but it is much easier said than done. You can't help but wonder what would have happened if things had turned out differently, but you know you'll never know. So, for the time being, you know it's best to continue to mask your emotions and pretend that everything is alright. You'll smile and laugh with him, while secretly wishing that he could see you in a different light. You know that this is the best course of action, despite how it saddens you.

One night, Kylian texts you to come to his house urgently, and like a minion, you drop everything that you're doing and head to his house instantly. Different scenarios cross your mind as you drive to his house, wondering what is happening as he usually never texts you in such serious ways. When you arrive, Kylian greets you at the door with a frustrated expression on his face. "Hey," he says, leading you into his living room. "Thanks for coming over."

"What's going on?" you ask, feeling a knot form in your stomach. "Is everything okay?"

Kylian takes a deep breath before speaking, "It's about my girlfriend, or should I say ex-girlfriend.” You widen your eyes, wondering if you heard him correctly. Ex-girlfriend? You wait for him to continue,  "Amora and I broke up a week ago," he says, his voice filled with irritation. "She broke up with me, but didn't give me any reason why. And now, she's already posting pictures with another guy on Instagram." He pulls out his phone and shows you the photo, and your heart sinks even further. Amora is hugging a guy, and they look incredibly close. You can see the anger and frustration in Kylian's eyes, and you wish that there was something you could do to make him feel better.

"Yeah, they're definitely a bit close to being friends," you say softly. You wish that you could do more, but you know that you need to be careful. You've had feelings for him for a long time, and you don't want to do anything that could jeopardize your friendship.

"I'm sorry, Kylian," you say, your heart aching for him. "I can't imagine how frustrating that must be, especially after dating for a year."

Kylian looks up at you, and you can see the pain and vulnerability in his eyes. For a moment, you forget about everything else and just want to wrap him in a hug. But you know that you can't, not when his heart is still broken and his emotions are raw.

Kylian gestures towards the couch, indicating that he wants to sit down and share more. As you both settle in, he begins to confide in you about his relationship troubles. He expresses his frustration and disappointment that despite being together for a year, she became distant after just five months and started going out more frequently. Kylian acknowledges that her celebrity status could be a contributing factor, but he can't help feeling hurt and irritated about the amount of time and money he invested in the relationship. You listen as he talks, and you do your best to be there for him by responding with your insight when you can. You know that it won't solve all of his problems, but at least for now, you can be a shoulder for him to lean on. Kylian leans back into the couch and lets out a long sigh. You can see the exhaustion in his face and the weight of his emotions. "I just don't get it, you know? One day she's all in, and the next she's out. And now, she's already moved on with someone else like I meant nothing to her," he says, shaking his head in disbelief.

You reach over and place your hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It's okay to feel hurt and frustrated, Kylian. Breakups are never easy, especially when you invest so much time and energy into a relationship. But you have to remember that you're not defined by your relationship status or who you're with. You're an amazing person who deserves to be treated with respect and love," you say, trying to offer some words of comfort. Kylian looks over at you and gives you a small smile. "Thanks, Y/N. I really appreciate you being here for me. You're always such a good friend," he says, his eyes reflecting gratitude. You smile back at him, but inside, you feel a pang of sadness. Moments like this, you wish you could be more than just a friend, someone who could make him happy and be there for him in a more intimate way. But for now, you'll continue to be the supportive friend that he needs.

Kylian stands up and looks down at you, "Which brings me to a plan I have in mind." You raise an eyebrow and ask, "What plan?" He nods and continues, "There's an event coming up next weekend and I was wondering if you could be my fake girlfriend for the night." You are taken aback and not sure what to say. "Fake girlfriend?" you repeat, trying to understand. Kylian nods and explains, "Amora already moved on with another guy so I  just want to make her jealous, show her that I have moved on too." He shrugs as if what he was proposing was not a big deal. You were left stunned and incredulous as you processed the words that Kylian had just spoken. He had just made an unexpected proposition - he wanted you to act as his pretend girlfriend for a single night. It was a bewildering request, and you struggled to comprehend why he would ask such a thing. However, despite the confusion and bewilderment that you felt, you couldn't deny the fluttering excitement that began to rise within you. After all, you have been crushing on Kylian for what feels like an eternity. The mere thought of being able to spend a night by his side, even if it was only pretend, was enough to make your heart race with anticipation. It was a risky move, considering that your feelings for him were real, but the opportunity to live out your wildest fantasy was a tempting prospect that you couldn't ignore. You couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to hold his hand, to laugh at his jokes, and to feel his arm around your waist. The idea of playing the part of his girlfriend, even if it was just for a fleeting moment, sent your mind into overdrive. Was it worth the risk of potentially ruining your friendship if he found out your true feelings? Or should you play it safe and decline his offer?

"I don't know, Kylian. What if people find out it's all fake?" you say, trying to weigh the pros and cons.

"Don't worry, it's a private event, and there won't be any paparazzi around. We only need to present ourselves as a pair," he says with a smirk.

Despite the internal conflict that waged within you, the prospect of indulging in a fantasy with Kylian proved too enticing to pass up. You take a deep breath and give him a nod, agreeing to his request. It was a decision that could change everything, but for now, you couldn't deny the thrill that pulsed through your veins at the thought of what was to come.

“And when should we start pretending to date?” you ask with a hint of amusement in your tone.

He leans down to take your hand, causing your heart to race with anticipation. You try to calm your nerves and hope he can't hear your pounding heart. "Let's start now," he says as he pulls you towards him, pressing your chests together. You're taken aback by the sudden closeness, and he notices. "You're too nervous. We need to make it look natural," he says as he moves even closer, almost to the point of kissing. Your mind races as you try to control your breathing. After a few seconds, he laughs and steps back. "This is going to be great," he says, giving you a thumbs up. "If we pull it off, I'll take you anywhere you want."

You let out a small laugh, feeling relieved that the intense moment is over. "You better, because being your best friend is enough. Being your girlfriend is gross," you joke, trying to mask your true feelings. You're still reeling from the way he pulled you in and held you close.

He waves you off playfully. "You know you love me," he says as he heads towards the kitchen.

You follow him with a smile, feeling giddy inside. "Make me a snack, will ya?" you ask, knowing he won't say no.

"Why should I do that?" he asks playfully.

You sit on a bar stool, grinning at him. "Because you're my boyfriend, duh."

He chuckles at your response and heads to the fridge, grabbing some ingredients for your snack. He moves around the kitchen with ease while you observe him, loving the handsomeness of his features. As he prepares the snack, you can't help but steal glances at him. He looks up and catches you staring, causing you to quickly look away, feeling embarrassed.

"You okay there?" he asks with a smirk.

You roll your eyes and play it off. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just admiring the chef at work," you say with a teasing tone.

Although you find Kylian's motive for pretending to be in a relationship with you a bit unusual, as he is only doing so to evoke jealousy in someone else, you try to avoid dwelling on it too much and instead focus on the pleasure of having him as your pretend boyfriend. Besides, you've harbored feelings for him for quite some time, so being able to play the role of his girlfriend, even if it's just for show, is undoubtedly an enjoyable experience.

 Over the course of the next couple of days, you and Kylian persist in portraying yourselves as a couple, taking several opportunities to immerse yourselves in the romantic ambiance by going on a few dates together.  One day, you and Kylian went to the park for a picnic, and he brought along a basket of your favorite food. You two sat on the blanket, basking in the sun and talking about anything and everything. He even brought a futbol, and you two kicked it around until you were both out of breath. Another day, he took you to a fancy restaurant in the city. You dressed up for the occasion, and he looked dashing in a suit. You both ordered fancy dishes and talked about your dreams and aspirations. You felt like you were in a movie, and you savored every moment of it.  You're loving the fantasy relationship that's happening, as it's something you've always wished for.

Kylian seems to be enjoying it too, and the more you spend time together, the more you start to notice how comfortable he is with you. You've known each other for years, but it's as if you're getting to know him all over again. The way he smiles at you, the way he touches your hand, the way he looks into your eyes - it all feels different now.

As the weekend of the special event approaches, the excitement in the air is palpable. You and Kylian have been getting more comfortable with each other with each passing day, and the prospect of being seen as a couple in public is exhilarating. Kylian had insisted that you get ready at his house instead of meeting at the venue, just in case someone sees the two of you arrive separately and questions the authenticity of your relationship. You obliged and now you are in his guest bathroom getting ready. You hum to yourself as you place the finishing touches on your makeup. You've opted for a natural look, accentuating your best features with just a hint of shimmer. You take a deep breath and turn to your outfit, laid out neatly on the bed. It's a Whitney Sequin Maxi dress in black, with sparkles all over that catch the light and make you feel like a star. The dress drapes down the middle, allowing just a little bit of cleavage to show. It's a perfect balance of sophistication and sexiness, and you know that Kylian will love it. You slip into the dress and check yourself out in the full-length mirror. It fits like a glove and makes you feel like a million bucks.

As you slip on your black red bottom high heels, you feel a sense of confidence wash over you. You know that you look gorgeous, and you can't wait to show off your outfit to Kylian.

“Y/N The driver is here!,” Kylian's voice echoes through the hallway, you hurriedly grab your phone and earrings before heading towards the living room. The clicking sound of your heels against the marble floor is the only noise that fills the air. As you turn the corner and meet Kylian's gaze, you feel your cheeks flush at the intensity of his stare. Despite the fact that you've been spending more time together as part of your fake relationship, you can't help but feel a jolt of nervousness whenever he looks at you like this.

"Wow," he says, his eyes roaming over your figure. A smile spreads across his lips as he takes in the sight of you. "You look absolutely stunning, Y/N."

Even though you know this relationship is only a facade, it's difficult to resist the way his words make you feel. You've been trying to keep your true feelings for him hidden, but the more time you spend together, the harder it becomes. You take a deep breath and try to compose yourself before replying, "Thanks, Kylian."

He steps towards you and takes your hand, leading you towards the front door. "Let's take a few photos before we head out," he suggests, pulling out his phone. 

You both approach the large mirror that is located near the entrance door and start to arrange yourselves. As he wraps his arm around your waist, you lean into him, feeling a sense of comfort and familiarity wash over you. To add a touch of mystery to the photo, you decide to hide behind the phone so that only your body is visible in the mirror picture. As you strike a pose, Kylian's hand moves from your waist to your back, pulling you in closer. The warmth of his body against yours sends shivers down your spine, and you can't help but wonder if he feels the same way. But you push those thoughts aside, reminding yourself that this is just for show. 

Kylian's hand lingers on your waist, and you can't help but feel a sense of comfort and belonging. As he admires the photo on his phone, you nod in agreement that it looks fantastic. Watching him post the photo on his Instagram story, you realize that his arm is still wrapped around you. The touch of his hand sends shivers down your spine, and you wonder if he feels the same way you do. "Annnd posted," Kylian chuckles, looking down at you with a gleam in his eyes. "Ready to go, my beloved?" His endearment catches you off guard, and you can feel your heart racing in your chest. You smile in response and nod your head, feeling a surge of warmth spreading throughout your body. Kylian removes his arm from your waist and takes your hand, leading you outside. While walking you say, "Kylian, you don't have to hold my hand, you know. It's just the driver,"giggling softly. He simply shrugs before opening the car door for you. "I know, but I wanted to," he replies, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You smile and roll your eyes playfully as you step into the car and buckle up, still feeling the warmth of Kylian's hand in yours. As the car pulls out of the driveway, you can't help but feel a tinge of sadness knowing that this will be the last time you'll be pretending to be Kylian's girlfriend. But for the moment, you push those thoughts aside and focus on the present, enjoying the feeling of Kylian's company.

"So, are you excited for tonight?" Kylian asks, breaking the comfortable silence in the car.

You turn to face him and smile, "Of course, You know I'm never one to back down for free food and drinks."

Kylian chuckles, "So that's why you always ask to come over to my house,huh?"

You smile, "Maybe, maybe not. The world may never know."

The rest of the car ride is spent in comfortable silence, with the occasional small talk between you and Kylian.Your excitement and nervousness increase as the car approaches the event location since you can already see the glamor and beauty of the occasion. You didn't anticipate the size of the event to be that large when you anticipated attending a private one. Of course, you should have anticipated it would be a significant occasion when it comes to Kylian.

Kylian steps out of the car and offers his hand to help you out, "Shall we?"

You smile, nodding your head, “Yes we shall.”

Together, you both make your way inside the venue, with Kylian's arm around your waist once again. You can feel the eyes of the guests on you as you make your entrance, and you make sure to keep your head held up high. That's something that you did not have to fake, of course you would look prideful knowing that the man of your dreams is by your side. With Kylian's reassuring presence by your side, you feel confident and ready to face whatever the night has in store for you. With Kylian's hand still resting on your hips, he leans down and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, making your heart flutter with warmth. You smile up at him, admiring how his features soften with the small gesture. "I'm going to head over to see Hakimi for a bit, okay?" he says, pulling away from you. You nod in understanding, though you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. You love spending time with Kylian, and you two  just got there, so you thought maybe you two would at least spend some time together for a bit before separating. As he turns to leave, you watch him go with a twinge of longing. You know of Hakimi, of course, but you don't know him well enough to be considered friends. You sigh, pushing the thoughts away, and turn your attention to getting a drink. Walking over to the bar, you smile at the bartender and order a strawberry margarita. While you wait, you hum a tune to yourself and glance around the room. Your eyes eventually land on Kylian, who's now deep in conversation with his friend. Your gaze lingers on him for a moment, taking in how attractive he looks tonight. His sharp jawline and piercing eyes make your heart skip a beat. You can't help but think about how lucky you are to be dating such a wonderful person. 

you mean, be friends with such a wonderful person.

Lost in your thoughts, you're startled when someone clears their throat beside you. "Oh, I'm sorry," you quickly say, realizing that you might be in the way of someone else trying to order a drink. When you turn to face the person, you're surprised to see Amora standing there. You're a bit taken aback by her sudden presence, but you try not to show it.

"You're together with Kylian, right?" she asks, getting straight to the point. You nod, still feeling a bit confused as to why she's approaching you this way. Doesn't she have a new boyfriend? She simply nods her head and turns around to look at Kylian. You watch her for a moment, feeling a bit uneasy, but then you remind yourself that Kylian is with you, not her. 

Just then, the bartender hands you your drink, and you thank him before turning to leave. You can feel Amora's eyes on you as you walk away, but you try not to let it bother you. You make your way back to Kylian, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as you see him waiting for you with a smile on his face.

"Wow, thank you for getting me a drink," Kylian says, teasing you with a playful smirk, as he takes the drink from your hand and takes a sip, leaving you pouting in mock indignation. "Heyyy, I didn't even get to taste it yet!" you complain, playfully tugging at his arm to retrieve your drink. He chuckles as he watches you take a sip, enjoying the moment with you.

Kylian chuckles lightly as he watches you drink, but then his gaze shifts, and you follow his line of sight to see what has caught his attention. You see her, the girl from his past, standing across the room. Your heart skips a beat, and a pang of jealousy flares up, but you try to brush it off.

Kylian continues to stare at her, and you can see his jaw clenched in frustration. It's clear that she's on his mind, and you feel a mix of emotions - insecurity, doubt, and a desire to comfort him.

In an impulsive move, you reach out and grab his hand, leading him towards the dance floor, hoping to distract him from his thoughts. "Come on, let's dance!" you say, quickly downing your drink and placing it on a random table before tugging him along with you.

You dance with abandon, not caring if you look silly or not, as long as it makes Kylian happy. At first, he watches you with amusement, but eventually he joins in and begins to have a good time. You smile, grateful that you could make him forget about his worries, even if it was just for a moment.

At first, Kylian watches your "horrible attempts" at dancing with an amused grin. You laugh and give him a playful nudge, urging him to join in. And gradually, you start to see his mood shift as he lets loose and starts moving to the music. As you dance together, you can feel the chemistry between you two, and it's like the rest of the world fades away. You catch glimpses of Kylian's smile, and it warms your heart to see him having a good time. It feels like he's only focusing on you, and it fills you with a sense of joy and satisfaction. The music pumps up, and you both lose yourselves in the rhythm, spinning and twirling, laughing and smiling. It's a moment of pure bliss, and you're grateful for this connection you share with Kylian.

After what feels like an eternity of dancing, the song ends, and you both catch your breath, still smiling at each other. Kylian pulls you close, his eyes locking with yours, and you can see the gratitude and affection in his gaze.

"Y/N, you truly mean a lot to me," he whispers softly, his voice filled with sincerity. You brush a stray strand of hair from his face and smile back at him. "And you mean a lot to me too," you reply, feeling a surge of love for him.

Kylian and Amora walked over to one of the tables situated around the dance floor and began to engage in a heated conversation. Kylian's eyes scanned the surroundings, not wanting to look at her directly. "Shouldn't you be with your new man right now?" he asked, his tone laced with disdain.

Amora snapped back, her voice tinged with jealously. "Shouldn't you be with your new girlfriend? Yet, you are here with me," she retorted sharply. Kylian was taken aback by her response and was about to leave when she grabbed his arm, whining, "Kyky, I'm jokinggggg," and grasping his hand. "Babe, why don't we go somewhere more private, huh?" she suggested, cupping his cheek. "I miss you."

Kylian was lost in thought, his eyes wandering around the room. He spotted you on the dance floor, dancing alone while waiting for his return. Memories of the past few weeks flooded his mind: the picnic you both shared, the way the sun had hit you, making you look even more beautiful, and the fancy dinner where he couldn't help but find you cute while shoving your face with mashed potatoes. These thoughts made him realize that his feelings for you were growing stronger, even though your relationship was supposed to be fake. He had never felt the happiness and love with Amora that he felt with you, even though you were only pretending. Suddenly, Amora's voice interrupted his thoughts. He shook his head slightly, focusing back on her. "Amora, we are done, just like you said. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to my girlfriend." He quickly scanned the crowd, but this time, he couldn't find you. "But-" Amora tried to say, but Kylian didn't stick around to hear her out. He pushed his way back into the crowd, determined to find you. As he searched for you, he realized how much he truly cared for you. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you and promised himself that he would tell you how he felt as soon as he found you. Finally, he spotted you in the distance, swaying to the rhythm of the music. A feeling of relief washed over him, and he made his way towards you, his heart beating with anticipation. As Kylian reaches you, he gently takes your hand and pulls you towards him. "Hey, do you mind if we go outside for some fresh air?," he says with a charming smile in an attempt to not make you feel too nervous..

Of course his smile does not help though. You nod, feeling slightly nervous about what he might say. Will he talk about Amora? Are they going to get back together?, your mind begins racing with questions. As you both walk outside, Kylian takes your hand in his and leads you to a more secluded area. He turns to face you and takes a deep breath before he starts speaking.

"I know this might sound crazy, but I've been thinking about us a lot lately. I know this started as a fake relationship, but...I've realized that my feelings for you are real," he says, his voice soft and sincere.

You look at him in shock, not quite sure what to say. Did you hear that right?

"I know this might be sudden, but I just can't deny how I feel anymore. Being with you, even if it's just pretend, has made me realize what I've been missing all this time," Kylian continues, taking a step closer to you.

You feel your heart racing as he leans in, his eyes locked onto yours. "I've never felt this way with anyone else, not even Amora. You make me so happy, and I just can't imagine going back to pretending that we're not together," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You take a step closer to him and reach up to cup his cheek, feeling a warmth spreading through your body at his confession. "Kylian, I...I had no idea you felt this way," you say, feeling a smile spreading across your face.

"But now that you've told me...I don't think I can go back to pretending either," you say, your voice soft and filled with emotion.

Kylian smiles at you and leans in, closing the distance between your lips. The kiss is gentle at first, but quickly deepens as you both wrap your arms around each other. It's a moment of pure bliss, and you can feel all the tension and confusion melting away as you realize that this is where you're meant to be.

As you pull away, you look up at Kylian and see a look of pure adoration in his eyes. "Even though this started as being fake, Y/N, Will you be my girlfriend?”

“I don't know…. Will you make me more sandwiches?,” you tease playfully.

He smiles,” Of course, anything for you,” he teases back,  leaning in to kiss you once more.

 You smile and wrap your arms around him, feeling the weight of the world lift off your shoulders. It's not often that you get a chance at true love, but you know that with him by your side, anything is possible. Kylian wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. You rest your head against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat, and you know in your heart that you want to be by his side, no matter what challenges may come your way.

[hikarry]

There should be more Good Omens x Supernatural crossovers

Fanart, fanfics, idc

Just

Castiel and Aziraphale's relationship would be fucking bomb! Hell, even Sam and Aziraphale's! They could be fucking nerds together

And don't get me stared on Crowley and Dean's dynamic! I just know they would absolutely annoy the fuck out of each other but become fast friends that just, ya know, thrive over fucking roasting each other but they would geek out over the other's car and music together. Just 🤌🏻 Crowley taking the shit out of Dean for him not only being American, but from bloody Texas of all places and Dean making a fake atupid British accent to annoy the shit out of Crowley because

Dean: "Look at me. Im a stupid demon that of all places in the world chose to become a fucking honorary Brit. How I love myself my stupid little tea at noon and pretend like I'm better than everybody else"

Crowley; "Listen here, you bloody Yankee, first off, tea is not my thing. Good whiskey, me. And I'm not bloody British! I'm a demon!"

Dean: "You sure act like one, posh bastard"

Crowley; "Posh? It's called having bloody manners! You fucking Americans must have lost them when you killed all the bloody natives and then came up with a stupid arse of a holiday to pretend you are the good guys"

Dean: "Says the Brit. Just the guys that enslaved half of the world and killed the other half."

Crowley: "I am not fucking British!"

Aziraphale: "He's right, Dean, dear. Technically we are not British. We don't have any nationality. We can speak every language and are nationless. Besides, we weren't involved with Britain's colonization. Actually, I believe Crowley spent most of his time in Iceland back in that century."

Crowley: "Oh yeah. We can speak every language but French, eh?"

Aziraphale: "We don't talk about that."

Castiel: "What's the problem with French?"

Crowley: "The problem is Aziraphale is absolute shit at it. It almost got him discorporated back in the French Revolution. Heavens, he can barely order a crepe when we go to Paris."

Castiel: "Why? It's in our nature to speak every language"

Aziraphale: "Oh for the love of all that's holy....I just decided to learn it the hard way, yes? Thought it might be fun."

Crowley: "Yeah. Just like the magic lessons you took. Which you are also shit at, by the way."

Sam: "Can't you like, do real magic?"

Crowley: "Precisely. But angel over here decided human magic was fun."

Aziraphale: "And I am correct! It's not my fault you are a cinic!"

Crowley: "You mean realistic. Every time I've seen you try to perform magic it's an absolute disaster. Embarrassing even."

Aziraphale: "Ah yes? What about my photo trick back in the 40s? Saved us, did it not?"

Crowley: "You did good there, yes. But, fucking Heavens angel-"

Dean: "Okay whatever. Let the fucking Brits have their little fight. We have work to do. Sammy, did you manage to locate the demon?"

Sam: "Actually, Aziraphale did."

Aziraphale: "It was quite easy, really. Crowley and I have dealt with them before"

Crowley: "You mean I saved your arse from them before"

Dean: "Oh for fucks sake, just let's go. Sammy, Cas, cmon."

Aziraphale: "Are you sure you don't want us to go? We could help."

Dean: "No. You both stay. Make up and makeout or whatever it is you do in your free time. We don't need you in the way"

Crowley: "Aziraphale, let's go. We gonna try and find some decent restaurant in this bloody city. Let them screw themselves. They will come begging for help before you know it"

Dean: "We've been dealing with demons for years, you pretentious fuck. We dunnot need your fucking help."

Crowley: "We've been alive for all the existence of humanity and have saved the world twice now."

Dean: "Big thing. We do that every other week. Open your mouth when you fight fucking God and then we will talk."

Sam: "Okay, okay, enough. You two go and do whatever it is that you want to do. We will reach out if we need help."

Aziraphale: "Jolly good. Come on, my dear. I've seen an amazing sushi restaurant down the street that looks decent enough."