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ahgasegotarmy116 · 10 months ago

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Lemme Take Care of You | Jeon Jungkook One Shot

Summary: Your deadbeat baby daddy comes around and you fall for his charms again like you always do. Pairing: Baby Mamma oc x Baby Daddy Jungkook (exes to lovers?) Word Count: 2k~ Warnings: Explicit language and sexual themes oral f receiving and hints of body insecurity after having a baby. Newly discovered lactation kink for the both of them idk man lol it kinda just happened a/n: something random I came up with while talking to @kkusadmirer lmao hope you enjoyyyy (Barely edited but that's the usual here lmao) p.s. This is a one shot but I can do drabbles and asks for this couple if you'd like more from them.

"What are you doing here?" I question as a flirty Jungkook leans against my doorway, dragging his eyes up and down my frame. "You didn't answer your phone" he says, bringing his eyes back up to mine.

"I came here to see the baby and maybe spend some time with my baby mama too" he smirks, walking past me and into the living room when I don't say a word, his head on a swivel looking for our daughter.

"She's taking a nap right now" I say, rolling my eyes and shutting the door, leaning my head against it and praying that I'll stay strong this time. "I guess that just means I get to spend time with you then huh?" he says, checking me out again as I walk into the living room.

"We've been over this" I sigh, hating the fact that just the thought of him makes me weak. "We both know you don't mean it" he says, walking up to me and placing a hand on my hip while trailing kisses down my neck.

"Y-yes I do mean it Jungkook we can't keep doing this" I say, trying to keep to my word but slowly losing the battle like I always do. "No, no you don't. Just lemme take care of you yeah? Wanna make you feel good" he says, trailing his nose along my neck making me shudder at the contact.

He leans back and looks down at me, searching for signs of true protest but when he doesn't he leans in slowly still giving me a chance to pull away but I give into him like I always do.

The kiss starts off slow and sweet, gradually putting me under his spell like he always does, making my knees weak which he takes notice of and picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and taking us back to our bedroom, no my bedroom.

He's not supposed to be here anymore but I can never say no to him.

He makes us both tumble down onto the bed and continues to kiss me until I can't breath and even a little after. While I pull away and gasp for breath he continues to trail kisses down my neck, licking, sucking and biting his way down until he's stopped by my shirt.

"Take this off for me yeah?" he asks, nuzzling into my neck and playing with the hem of my shirt, giving me the choice of letting this continue which he knows I will. I sit up and he helps me take it off, having clocked that I wasn't wearing a bra as soon as I opened the door, obsessed with the larger size of my breasts still full of milk.

"Lemme taste it yeah? Just a little bit" he asks, kissing his way down my breasts, begin careful knowing that they're probably sore. I widen my eyes after hearing his request to try my breast milk but I nod my head nonetheless, turned on by the thought of it.

He gently takes my nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it, making it nice and wet for him before he gives it a light suck, humming after the taste hits his tongue. "Fuck you taste so sweet" he praises leaving my hips bucking up, begging for some sort of friction.

"My pretty baby mama wants some attention huh?" he taunts, grinding his hips into mine, my cotton shorts rubbing up against me as barely a barrier making me moan at the rougher feeling of his jeans, making me beg for more.

"Please just fuck me the baby's gonna be up soon" I whine when he rubs up against my clit, letting out a dry chuckle remembering my weak defense of trying to deny him just moments before.

"No, just wanna make you feel good" he says, kissing me before trailing his tongue between the valley of my breasts and kissing along my stomach almost as if worshipping the place that once held our baby.

"Jungkook stop" I say, pushing his head down to go lower but he doesn't budge. "No, wanna remind you of how thankful I am that you made our baby. Wanna remind you you did so well taking care of her" he says, kissing all my stretch marks and nipping on places that still had a little baby weight on it.

I lay my head on the pillow, willing myself into thinking this is just sex with him. Nothing more than just wanting the pleasure that I know he can give me. If I let my mind go anywhere else I'm just gonna let him come crawling back to me and I can't let him do that.

He isn't good for me and I know that but when I'm this close to him it's almost as if none of that matters.

He resumes his downward journey and kisses right bellow my belly button and looks up at me, asking for permission to take my shorts off and I grant it to him, watching as he peels it all off of me, taking in my folds glistening with arousal, leaving his eyes lighting up at the sight.

Time and time again no matter how many times he's seen me like this it's almost as if he can't get enough of it. "Fuck, wanna put another baby in this pretty little pussy again" he says, cursing at the thought of it.

I shut my eyes and throw my head back, squirming from the long stripe he's dragged between my folds, taking my clit into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it just as he had done with my swollen nipple moments before, driving me even more crazy at the feeling.

"Shit" I whine out, so sensitive from it having been a little while since the last time he came and being so drunk on the feeling of his head between my thighs. "Want that too? Wanna have my baby again?" he says, knowing I'm far too gone after him having made out with my cunt, bringing me almost to the edge of it making me agree to anything he might ask.

"Fuck Jungkook yes just keep going" I pant, bucking my hips back into his face leaving him smiling against me and suffocating himself, leading me closer and closer to my climax and soon it's washing over me. Hitting me hard like a ton of bricks and making me cover my mouth to keep as quiet as I can so I don't wake the baby.

Thankfully all I hear on the baby monitor are her soft snores, reminding me so much of her father's that I woke up to every morning.

Jungkook continues to give me soft kitten licks until I'm whining and pushing him away leaving him placing a quick kiss on my inner thigh before hovering over me.

"Open your mouth" he orders and I do just that, sticking out my tongue as he spits in my mouth, followed my him smashing his lips against mine, wanting to share that sweet taste he always praising me for.

After kissing for what feels like forever, slowly going from intense to lazy as the tiredness on my side grows he pulls back to say something but we're cut off by the sound of the baby crying on the monitor.

"I'll go" he says placing one last kiss on my lips, picking my shirt up and wiping the rest of my arousal off his chin before running to the bathroom to clean himself up and throws me a damp towel to clean myself up.

He gives me a sly smile before leaving and heads over to our daughter's room and coos at her.

"Hi princess, it's okay Daddy's here" he says picking up our six month old and rocking her back and forth, trying to soothe her and my heart melts at the scene I can see on the monitor.

"You've been a good girl for Mommy right? You gotta take care of her because she loves you very much" he's cut off for a second by her coos back, recognizing him right away. "Hey, no back talk missy I mean it" he jokes along, pretending to be stern with her and she giggles in response.

"I missed you, you know that?" he says peppering her face with kisses and again being met with more giggles. "I wish I could come over more often but living somewhere else makes it hard. I hope you know I do try to come see you as much as I can" he says, adjusting his hold on her and holding her even closer.

"I know you don't know what I'm saying but I love you" he says but pulls her away to look at her again. "Mommy says your gonna be a big sister soon" he says excitedly, just imagining the thought of expanding our family even more but at that my eyes widen thinking back to what just happened and I throw my robe on before rushing into her room.

"You know I didn't mean that" I say, crossing my arms over my chest and cocking a brow at him. "Aw come on, don't you want her to have a sibling?" he pouts, looking back at her before adjusting his hold on her and holding her at arms length as if he were showing her off.

"Don't you want another one that looks just like us?" he asks guilting me into it by making me say no to our daughter which he knows I can't do even if she can't understand right now. "Let's focus on the baby we have now" I say taking her out of his hands as she reaches for me. "That wasn't a no" he says, his eyes lighting up and I'm reminded again by the fact that he's younger than me, always hitting me with that childlike joy he still has.

I turn my back to him and hold her closer to the little mood light I have for her so she can watch the purple and pink swirls on the celling accompanied by so many bright stars and she reaches out almost as if she was trying to touch them.

I feel him snake his arms around my waist and places his head in the crook of my neck so he can look down at her, both of us just admiring the beautiful little girl we made together.

"So do you think we'll give her a baby brother or sister?" he asks placing a kiss on my neck making my breath hitch, taking away the harshness of the answer I was going to give him.

"Keep on pushing your luck and she'll be an only child" I huff and at that she starts fussing probably from needing to have her diaper changed.

"Hey you can't just say that! Look you made her upset" I roll my eyes at his claims and turn around to hand her to him. "You want another baby? Fine, then you change her" I say, crossing my arms, seeing the light dim in his sparkly eyes replaced with the slight disgust after smelling the damage she had done.

"So if I change this diaper then we can have another baby?" he asks, patiently awaiting my answer. "Let's focus on her and go from there" I say and he nods his head, placing her down on the changing table and getting everything he needs out of the drawer bellow it.

"You hear that? You're gonna get a new baby brother or sister" Jungkook coos at her and I slap him upside the head in response leaving her laughing at his reaction.

"Ow! What'd you do that for?" he whines. "Just focus on the diaper Jeon" I order and he nods his head and I walk out of the room, hearing him mumbling something about how scary I am to her but I decide to let him be this time.

This is what I get for dating a younger guy.

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beesspacedotorg · 11 months ago

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Third Leg?

Summary: after spending time with Minho after exams, you remember something he said in the heat of the moment about your packmate Jeongin. You decide to confront Jeongin about it, because after all, what's the worst that can happen?

Warnings: sex. uh. poly ot8 and reader. more omegaverse. continuation of Dibs but can be read on its own. breeding kink?? manhandling ??? reader is lowkey a brat, uh. Jeongin's dick is huge. I actually don't know what else to add, so let me know if there's another thing I should put in here. reader is an omega but gender and genitals are unspecified as always

notes: I got possesed by a demon when I was writing this. I don't even have a breeding kink. Also if the title is bad, no. this is my first time writing Jeongin, so if it's bad no it isn't. this is his very late birthday present. Happy Birthday, King.

to read: Dibs

In most things, you try to be reasonable. It does not come easy to you, it doesn’t come easy to most people. You wish your pack would be more understanding of this sometimes. You know that’s an unfair thing to say about, to say to, your pack, but you can’t help it. You really don’t want to, you really can’t spend Jeongin’s rut with him. It’s the middle of the semester, you’re still convinced the Luna doesn’t like you, and you’d prefer not to think too hard about your relationship with anyone else. You’re comfortable with Hyunjin and you’re comfortable with Changbin. Everyone else, you think, couldn’t care whether you were around or not.

“That’s unfair to think, dove. Of course they want you around. We want you around.” Hyunjin says, he’s holding your face in his palms in a way that he often does when he talks to you.

“I know, but I really don’t feel comfortable yet, it’s only been a couple months, and it took me so long to get used to being around you.” You huff and you can feel a heat forming behind your nose. “I just really- I don’t want to spend Innie’s rut with him. I can’t.” Hyunjin hums affirmingly and swipes a finger under your eye to cut off a tear, but otherwise makes no comment about your crying.

“You want them to stop pushing,” he says, and you nod at him.

“I want them to stop pushing.”

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do. But, please don’t say we don’t want you around. We do. At the very least, I do. Okay?” You nod at him and smile slightly as he kisses your nose, it turns into a laugh when he gets insistent, peppering kisses all over your face until you’re shoving him off and smiling wide at him.

“So.” You have a spoonful of cereal halfway to your mouth when he comes into the kitchen. In all reality, you aren’t supposed to be here. You only stopped by for a quick snack before you went to head into work, but then there was something at the shop so your boss told you to stay home. You’d intended to detour to the campus library instead to catch up on some homework, but between your first and second bowls of cereal you had switched out of your outside clothes to sweats and an old t-shirt, and now you’re standing three feet away from Yang Jeongin.

“So?” You set the bowl down on the counter.

“You don’t want to spend my rut with me.” You draw your shoulders up to your ears defensively. You think something in your scent must turn sour because you see Jeongin wrinkle his nose.

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not mad or anything. I just wanted to know if you’d tell me why.” You pause, picking up your spoon and stirring the milk around the bowl, listening to the clink clink clink of metal on ceramic. Something about his question confuses you.

“If?”

“Yeah, ‘if.’ I don’t want to pressure you for information if you’re not ready to give it. If you’re uncomfortable with spending my rut with me, that’s fine. If you don’t want to tell me you’re uncomfortable, that’s also fine.”

“I don’t want to tell you why.” He shrugs. You’re surprised at how easy that was.

“That’s fine. I have another question though.”

“Hmm?”

“Could we hangout, or something? Before you steer clear of the house for a week and a half, I want to spend time with you. Unfortunately,” he rolls his eyes, “I’ve come to enjoy your company and if I don’t spend some time with you I might do something drastic.” He’s slowly approaching you now, crowding you against the counter. He’s given you plenty of time to walk away or move, but you haven’t, so he continues.

“Drastic, you say.” He hums, taking your bowl and putting it in the sink, not bothering to rinse it out.

“Drastic like breaking every single door that separates the two of us just to make sure you’re safe.” He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder, nose against your neck. His hair smells like baby powder, like his shampoo that you and Hyunjin sometimes steal. You can feel him shake with laughter when your scent changes with arousal as he gets in your space.

“You’re easy.” You hit his back slightly.

“You’re mean.”

“Will you hangout with me, though? I was mostly serious.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll hangout with you.”

“Great,” he says, and you let out a small shriek as he drags you in the direction of his room. The door is halfway closed when he yells across the house.

“I call dibs until my rut starts!” You can hear the groans and complaints through his now shut door.

So, you spend time with him, both before and after his rut, and nobody comments on how annoying it is that you’re monopolizing his time like you thought they would. There’s a point where Hyunjin interrupts you because he wants Jeongin’s dick in his mouth, and when you move to leave, they both start complaining. (You left anyway, not being ready for that just yet, but the idea made you feel warm regardless.)

You don’t get to spend much time with him after that though, because then you have Minho and exams flooding your vision and your senses, and while one of those things is enjoyable, the other isn’t and for two seconds you’d like your brain to be off. Just for two. That time comes and it’s as you’re waking up from your post-fuck nap with Minho that it hits you.

“You said Innie was talking about me during rut?”

“What? Sweetheart, we just woke up.” Minho is rubbing his eyes, smacking his mouth, and blinking cutely. You feel the urge to pinch his cheek but worry that would land you in hot water so you just poke it instead.

“Yes, I know, I know, but. You said Jeongin was talking about me during his rut.”

“Yes? Why do you sound so surprised? You’re our Omega after all.” You flush again at his casual claim on you, he keeps catching you off guard with it.

“He never mentioned it to me.” Minho yawns and slings his arm over your waist.

“You were busy, of course he didn’t mention it to you. Besides, you seemed so … hesitant to spend his rut with him in the first place that he probably didn’t want to mention it at all.” You frown, brows furrowing as you think about it. You move to get out of bed when Minho stops you.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“To talk to Jeongin.”

“It’s too early for one, and for two. I have some things planned for us.” His hand wanders up your shirt.

“But-”

“I thought you had learned enough to stop arguing with me? Does your mommy need to teach you a lesson?” He says this, but he’s not holding you back. If you wanted to, you could leave this bed and camp outside of Jeongin’s door until he woke up. But you don’t. You don’t even know what you want to say to him, and Minho is tracing soft circles on your skin and you’re struck with undeniable want. You ease yourself back into bed.

“That’s my pretty Omega. So good for me, hmm?”

You don’t get to talk to Jeongin until several days later. You’re too busy sleeping like the dead for a day and a half, then Chan steals you away for a celebratory dinner date, then when you finally get the chance to talk to him, you walk into his room and find him and Yongbok making out, so you’ve had to curb the conversation for later, until now.

“Innie!” He’s slipping his shoes on.

“Yeah?” He never ties them, you notice, ties them once and then slips them on and off over and over again.

“Where are you going?”

“On a walk.”

“Great.” You walk over to him and shove his jacket off his shoulders, then kick at his feet until he takes his shoes back off, and start dragging him to his room.

“What.” He’s confused despite the fact that he’s the one who let it get this far.

“I want to talk to you.”

“Okay?” He sits down on his bed, patting the spot next to him so you can sit too.

“Minho mentioned that you talked about me during your rut.” It comes out of you in a rush. Jeongin’s face flushes red. He covers his face with his hands, his huge hands with their stupidly long fingers.

“Ah. Yes. I did. Are you upset?”

“Am I up- Am I upset?” You’re incredulous. “One of the hottest men I’ve ever seen and one of my Alphas wanted me during his rut and you think I’m upset?”

“Okay, to be fair. You didn’t seem too thrilled about the idea of my rut to begin with.”

“I was new to the pack!”

“You’d been with us for three months!”

“Like I said, new!” He huffs and knocks you onto your back, laying across you in the way you’ve seen the others do to him.

“Why did you come to talk to me about it?” You flush at his question and you can hear his little chuckle. The members joke that he learned how to be mischievous from Minho and Seungmin, and you’ve never seen it more than right now.

“Oh? I see.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“Minho hyung says you like when people are mean.”

“Minho said what?!”

“I’m kidding, he refused to tell us what you two got up to, but now I know that I’m not too far off.” You grab a pillow from behind your head and smack him with it. He moves himself until your noses are touching and smiles at you. You smile back and poke around his face until your finger lands in a dimple.

“You want me to fuck you, is that it?” His voice is soft, low, because of how close he is to your face and he smirks when your scent fills the room.

“You do?” You nod at him and he tuts.

“Minho’s taught you better than that.” You huff and pout at him. He laughs and kisses you.

“I’ll let you get away with it because you’re cute.” You beam at him and he smiles back.

He starts with kissing you, because of course he does. It’s soft and sweet and a little hesitant and it’s similar to the way you’ve seen him kiss Yongbok, but different from the way you’ve seen him kiss Seungmin and you’re struck with the realization that he sees you as something soft and precious. That he’ll hold you with the same amount of delicacy he uses to hold Felix and your heart stutters in your chest for a minute.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” He’s pulling away, looking at you with wide eyes as your scent changes. “Did I hurt you?” You shake your head at him, pulling him close for a hug for a minute as you calm yourself down.

You’ve never had a pack before, your culture has moved away from it. You had to move from your family for school and since then you’ve been relatively alone. It’s been a while since you’ve felt loved, and when you’re faced with the sheer amount of it the eight of them have to give it overwhelms you every time. He hasn’t hurt you, it’s the opposite.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Ah, I see. Hyungs’ said you might cry a little. That’s okay. Do you want to stop?” You shake your head at him, answering with a verbal “no” after he stares at you pointedly. You lean in to kiss him again and he responds with the same gentleness he did before and you can feel yourself slicking up in your pants. You hear him take a sharp inhale and then you feel his grip tighten where his hands were resting on the side of your face and neck.

“Jesus, I can see why hyung keeps you to himself all the time. You smell so fucking good.” He stops kissing you to start making out with your neck, you can feel him starting to scent you and you tug at him, whining.

“Innie-”

“Yeah, I know, but-” he cuts himself off with a groan and you can feel his hips press into yours and dear God.

“Is that your leg?”

“No.” You whine again. There’s no fucking way his dick is that big. You tell him so.

“Well. Prepare to eat your words because it is.”

You huff at him again, and really, he should spend less time around the more sarcastic pack members because his attitude is making your eye twitch. He sees it and smiles mischievously at you before landing a soft peck right below the same eye.

“I’d like to see how you handle Hannie or Seungmin hyung. They’re worse than I am.”

“They also probably move faster than you do.” He grumbles at you at that and gets to work undressing the two of you. He’s sliding his hoodie off when you’re filled with the urge to bite his biceps. They’ve gotten bigger since you’ve been introduced to him and you think it’s crazy because you hardly ever see him work out. Suddenly, there’s a large palm against your forehead and any forward movement you had started is quickly stopped.

“What are you doing?” You can feel your teeth click together as your mouth closes and you blink a couple times.

“Nothing.” He squints at you.

“You were going to bite me, weren’t you?”

“No.”

“You’re a liar!” You’re being manhandled now, and you refuse to go down without a fight. You grab a pillow and nail him in the face with it.

“I am not! I’ve never- don’t pull my hair- I’ve never lied!”

“You’re doing it right- why are your nails so fucking long- right now!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Did you just fucking- ow! What the hell?” You finally manage to get your teeth on his arm and it’s just as great as you imagined it would be. Your victory is incredibly short lived because between one second and the next Jeongin has you pinned to the bed. Your cheek is pressed against the mattress and he has your arm twisted in a way that’s mildly uncomfortable, but that’s overshadowed by how you can feel him pressed against you to keep you pinned. He’s all lean muscle and you can feel where his shoulders press against yours and where his cock is pressed against your ass and if you tilt your hips just right, you can feel him brush against your slick hole.

“Oh? Does my pretty Omega want something?” You can hear the laughter in his voice. You can also hear how it’s dropped three octaves and you can feel it rumbling from his chest. You can feel how his cock is starting to leak against your skin.

“Jeongin-”

“I think,” he grabs your other arm, pinning your wrists at the small of your back, “that if you want anything you should beg for it.”

“Innie, you’re not being fair-”

“I’m not being fair? You bit me. I have you pinned. If you want anything from me, you’re going to have to work for it.” You turn your head into the mattress and let out a small sob, wiggling a bit in Jeongin’s hold. His hands loosen on your wrists and he lifts his weight off of you enough that you could get out if you wanted to. Minho did this too, gave you signals with his body to let you know that it was okay to not want it, the problem is that you do. You like how Jeongin has you pinned, and you like the humiliation that’s going to come with begging for it.

He notices you haven’t moved and so his grip tightens on your wrists again. You feel the chuckle he lets out as he presses his weight down onto you again and you know your scent must be doing something because he inhales with his nose pressed straight against your neck.

“Get to begging, baby. I have all night.” You whine at that, wiggling and trying to push your hips back against his to fuck yourself onto his cock, but he pulls his hips back, readjusts until you couldn’t reach his cock unless you dislocated something and he laughs at you.

Jeongin does have all night, it turns out, because you spend a considerable amount of time with your forehead pressed into the mattress trying to will the shame that comes with wanting out of your body. At one point, he asks you if you’re alright, dropping the act for a bit and when you respond he resorts to taunting you.

He’s doing it now, taking his ridiculously large dick in his hand and gathering some of the slick that’s leaked between your legs to jerk it. You can hear the wet noises it’s making and you can’t help but think of how much louder it would be if he were actually fucking you. It turns out that your Alpha was thinking the same thing because he starts talking, and each word chips away at the lump in your throat.

“Fuck, you smell so good, baby. Your slick is so warm, I bet it’d be warmer if I got it straight from the source, yeah? What do you think? You’re leaking so much you’ve made a wet spot on the bed, maybe I should fuck that instead, since you wanna be stubborn.” You whine in response.

“No? You don’t want me to do that? I think I should. Or should I just finish on your back?” Your next answering whine is more of a wail.

“Oh, I see. You’re a little cumwhore is that it? Want me to come inside of you? Hmm? Get our Omega pregnant?” You moan this time, drooling onto the sheets. Jeongin grabs your head and turns it to the side so he can see you better, or so that you can see him and how he’s about to waste his cum on you instead of in you. The drool smears onto your cheek and you can feel your eyes start to well up with tears because you know he’s close.

“Please.” It escapes from you in a pathetic whimper and the hand that was stroking his cock pauses.

“What was that? I don’t think I heard you.” You know he did, but you also know that if you don’t repeat yourself and beg good enough he really will make good on his promise to finish on your back and leave you there.

“Innie, Jeonginnie, please. I want- I want-”

“Want what? Hmm? A slice of cake, a new Minecraft update?” You huff at his mocking, but it’s too wet to really hold any weight, and you can feel your lip wobbling, so you’re not surprised when what you say next is more of a sob than anything else.

“Your cock. Jeongin, Alpha, please. You said you wanted me during your rut, don’t you want me now?” It’s a low blow, and even through your desperation you know that, but you’ll do what it takes to get him to finally stick his huge dick in you.

“Oh, baby. I do. Don’t worry.” His fingers are searching for your entrance, stretching you out just enough for it to not burn too bad, but you’re so wet, and both of you are so needy, you know that you’ll just have to deal with the pain of not preparing for his stupid dick later because you want it now.

“Then,” he made the mistake of letting go of your wrists to grab your hip instead, and you ball your hands into fists and hit the bed in frustration, “why aren’t you fucking me?” He huffs a laugh.

“All that and you’re still giving me trouble? You’re lucky you’re cute, Omega. So lucky.” You start to kick your feet at him but you’re stopped by the fact that he’s slowly starting to push into you, making a home for himself inside your body and slowly forcing the breath from your lungs.

It burns, and you expected it to with how unprepared you were, but it feels good and you don’t care so that will have to be a later-you problem.

“Jesus, you feel so good, baby. Better than I imagined.” He starts a rough rhythm right off the bat, and you’re needy enough that it doesn’t bother you, besides, you’re pretty sure he was edging himself earlier, so he’s entitled to this.

“Felix hyung and I talked about it, you know. When I was in rut. You left.” The last part comes out as a soft growl, and he coughs to get himself in check before pressing a soft kiss between your shoulder blades.

“You left and I thought about how warm you’d feel inside. Felix wondered too, said he wanted to know how sweet you were.” You hear him chuckle. “Y’know I got him to come untouched from just talking about you, pretty baby?”

You gasp, letting out a shuddery moan at that, and you hear Jeongin laugh above you. You were already halfway to delirious with how good he was fucking you- hard enough to shake the bed and bang the headboard against the wall- but something about knowing that the pack wants you always makes you just that much wetter, always makes your head that much lighter, so you can’t help but clench down around his cock and get everything around you soaked with more of your slick.

“Jeonginnie, Alpha, I- please- I want to-”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead, baby. I won’t make you beg for this one.” He presses himself down against your back, knocking your knees out from under you so you’re flat against the bed and have nowhere to go, nothing to do but take it.

“The next one, though. I make no promises.”

The new angle has you going dumber than you were before and you can feel Jeongin’s breath in puffs of hot air against your neck. You whine at him, moaning as you’re trapped underneath his body and when you come it’s with white spots dancing across your vision. You’re just coming down when you feel him start to pull out and you surprise both yourself and him with the growl that comes out of you.

“Yang Jeongin, so help me God if you do not come inside of me-” He shuts you up by doing just that, bullying his knot into you until it pops and rolling the two of you onto your sides so you’re not laying in the multiple spots of wet that have stained his sheets.

“You’re bossy.” It’s said against your hair while his stupidly big hands come up to massage the crick in your neck that’s finally made itself present. “How do you get away with that when you’re with Minho hyung?”

“I listen to him. Mostly.” He pinches you, you pinch back. You sit in silence for a minute.

“Was it good? Or, as good as you imagined?” You try not to sound insecure as you say it, but you know that you’ve probably missed the mark.

“Better. Way better.” He kisses the spot he was just massaging and winds his arm around your middle. “Nap time. You’ll need your energy when I get you back for being a little shit.”

“I wasn’t.” He scoffs at you.

“Yeah, sure. And my name is Chan.”

“Hi, Chan, how are you?”

“Cancel what I said earlier. The second we aren’t locked together anymore I’m kicking you out.” You laugh at him.

#bee blurbs #ft.innie #a bee o #yang jeongin x reader #i.n x reader #i.n x you #yang jeongin x you #yang jeongin hard thoughs #yang jeongin smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz x you #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut

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chososdiscordkitten · 1 year ago

Text

MDNI

Pt 1 here

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader Content: no use of y/n, SOME plot, read pt 1 for context, BREEDING KINK, PREGNANCY and BABY TRAPPING, unestablished relationship, reader has an iud that Gojo is NOT a fan of, manipulating, reader is a lil dumb lol, talk of birth control and hiding it, creampies 24/7, mentions of NURSING and BRESTFEEDING, 'wife' used like twice Word count: 3.3k

(a.n) I kept getting asked for pt 2 so here it is. more plot, not so much smut this time lol

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It had been 3 months since Gojo came to the conclusion that pregnancy was the solution to his fear of you finding someone else. Seeing you come out of the bathroom, a bath towel wrapped around you as small droplets fell from your neck.

Looking at you bewildered as though this was the greatest disappointment he had ever felt. You were talking about something- something irrelevant to the issue at hand.

Why you weren't swelling with his child right now. Why you were denying him- the world of the next generation of Gojo babies.

And it’s not like he could keep letting out those little ‘get pregnant’ comments while he fucked you, often contemplating asking you to gag him so they wouldn’t slip. You had your suspicions, not outwardly saying it but if one more little comment fell from him you'd be forced to ask.

Satoru was sure that your medical state wasn't an issue, he carefully combed through your medical records to find any sort of reason as to why you weren't pregnant. One appointment 3 years ago for an iud insertion, and one appointment to get it removed a few weeks after you met him.

And it's not like he was the issue here, he made sure he was fine in that aspect. Gojo was sure he was fine- and you had no issues with getting pregnant.

So, the solution to his fear needed a solution too. No problem, this just meant he had to fuck you even more now. More often, and even move you into his apartment. Permanently.

He was hung up in his own little world as his eyes burned holes through your damp skin. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows.

Gojo quickly fixed his face as he looked at you with a smile, “M’just thinking about havin you move into my place.” He hummed, folding his arms to rest beneath his head. Eyes following your expression as you waited for him to continue, “You're already here all the time~” he hummed, you raised your eyebrows in defense.

“That's because you can't keep your hands off of me for longer than an hour.” you laughed as he pursed his lips, feeling like he was being scolded in that moment. Knowing you meant it as a joke- but it was true.

No matter how many showers- how many breaks. Satoru was always ready to go again, and again, and again. Praying that this time will be the one. Gojo daydreamed of coming home to you, breasts swelled with milk to welcome his child into the world.

Glow on your skin and tummy growing his child. Twins, he'd fantasize. “We should just get married while we're at it.” he’d joke, knowing if he kept bringing it up, you'd cave. Knowing you weren't the kind of person to co-parent.

But those daydreams were always cut short. Whenever he'd message you saying he wanted to see you, only for you to tell him you were on your period.

We all know that never stopped him, but the disappointment knowing his attempts were in vain, always made him try even harder next time.

And yes you did question his constant need to fuck you, at times fully skipping prep and pushing into you- knowing you didn’t really need it since you had cleaned yourself up from the last round not to long ago.

How he'd bite his tongue whenever you'd ask him to cum inside. And I mean lets be real, when has Gojo ever bit his tongue during sex?

All but telling you to ‘shut up’ when you’d whisper in his ear, “Fill me up-” knowing if you didn't, he'd start babbling words that had been boxed up at the back of i his mind.

That one time Gojo let them slip, the sight of your cunt swallowing his cock greedily, the words pushed themselves past his lips forcefully.

“Get pregnant” he demanded of you, only you didn't listen. You found it an odd thing to say- sure. But knowing him, he’s said worse things in the heat of the moment.

You always chalked up Satoru’s babbles before he came as meaningless words, knowing you shouldn't hold him to the promises and threats he'd make before he came.

Gojo’s made empty proposals into your ears before, “S-so good, m-” he hesitated, a low whine leaving his lips by just thinking about what he was about to say, “-marry me hm?~” he’d whisper as he overstimulated your senses.

Making sure you kept your eyes open to look at him, taking in the desperate sight of his forming ‘o’ face. Ears being fully invaded by the vulgar squelching from his hips slapping against the back of your thighs, and his unforgiving whines and moans.

Both of your hands gripping tightly on his back, knowing you'd leave raised marks on his skin. So caught up in your own orgasm you'd say ‘yes’ to any of his questions right now.

And there was nothing Satoru liked more than asking you questions when you were close to cumming, fully taking advantage of you not being able to think straight.

Even if you had just gotten out of the shower, freshly cleaned from the last round. He'd still toss that useless towel off of you and go again, making sure to keep you on the edge- not fully giving in to your pleads and you urging him to hurry up.

Relishing in the idea that round after round, unable to count just how many times he's cum inside of you that weekend- you're still up for more.

“You wanna go get tested together?” he asked you randomly one morning, making you look at him with furrowed eyes.

“Do I have to get tested?” you asked, unknowing that he had other sexual partners. Satoru let out a small laugh at your accusatory tone.

“No.” he smiled playfully, “I just thought it would be fun.” He hummed. And as he requested, you and him ended up in a clinic. Getting tested for any diseases or any issues.

And Gojo insisted he stay in the room as the nurse asked you the embarrassing questions. Sitting on the uncomfortable exam table, fiddling with your thumbs and thinking of how stupid it was to do this after months of having unprotected sex.

Looking over at Satoru and seeing a smile on his lips as you heard the paper wrinkle below you.

“Are you sexually active?” the overworked nurse flashed her eyes to you above the clipboard. You sighed, “Yes.” Looking over at his smug smile.

“What kind? Oral, vaginal, anal?” she asked, looking at you. This would've been fine if it was just you and the nurse, but having Gojo in the room with you made this even more humiliating.

“Uh-” you hesitated, eyes flashing to Satoru and back to the nurse. “...All?” you hesitated, shrinking in your seat when you heard her check three boxes with the pen in her hand.

“How many people have you had sex with in the past six months?” she asked nonchalantly, obviously having bigger issues in the world than what was happening in this room right now.

“One.” you answered, making Gojo’s chest swell with pride, knowing you were being faithful- even if there wasn't a label on what he was to you.

“In the last 12 months?” the nurse asked, you sighed, looking over at his smug face. “One.” your tone was a little more stern, knowing if you had said anything else this would've ended in a very different way.

“Are you or your partner trying to get pregnant?” the nurse flashed her eyes to Gojo, seeing him mouth a quiet ‘yes’

“No.” you answered, making the nurse look back at you and check no on the clipboard.

“Are you or your partner using contraceptives or birth control?” the nurse exhaled, your hands between your knees, ‘no’ Satoru answered the question mentally.

“Yes.” you answered honestly, making him furrow his eyebrows and snap his eyes to you. You looked at him, turning your head as though you were asking him ‘what?’

“What kind?” the nurse asked, looking at you directly.

“I've had an iud for 3 years.” you looked back at her, hearing her write down on the paper. Satoru’s mind started remembering the online records he read, he was so sure he saw an appointment for a removal on them.

“Any plans on removal, or renewing?” she asked, side eyeing Gojo who muttered a quiet ‘yes’

“No.” you scoffed, looking at the nurse thinking he was just trying to be funny, “I had an appointment for removal- but I didn't go.” you admitted, looking over at Gojo who was suddenly sitting very stiff.

“Okay-” the nurse started, clipping the pen into her pocket and taking a step back towards the door- “The doctor will be in soon.” The nurse gave a fake smile before stepping out of the small examination room.

A soul killing silence was in the room, mentally Gojo was scolding you for not telling him.

“Why didn't you get ‘it’ removed?” referring to the pesky little thing inside of you, you furrowed your eyebrows.

You tried remembering why you didnt go, “Hmm,” you pondered, looking at him, seeing an opportunity to lighten the heavy tension in the room. “I met you and somehow I knew I'd need it.” you joked, making him let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Besides, you didn't really think I was letting you finish inside of me without birth control…Right?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

That's exactly what Gojo thought, he thought that you loved him enough to not care about the repercussions that followed his addiction of cumming inside of you.

Satoru was silent, “Right?” you asked again, throwing him from his train of thought.

He stuttered, “I-I just don't remember you mentioning it.” he gave you a half smile, already plotting how he'd convince you to remove it.

“You never asked.” you scoffed, dangling your feet from the examining table, with a smile you looked at him. “And it's a good thing-” you huffed, “If I didn't have it- your apartment would be crawling with a bunch of Gojo toddlers.” You joked with a laugh.

The thought made his heart crack, picturing all of the wasted cum he's pumped into you. His pouting lip for the rest of the appointment worried you, not hearing anymore dumb comments or seeing him smile anymore. In your mind, you thought that maybe he didn't like that you hid this from him.

That to his sensitive feelings, this was a sort of betrayal. To Satoru this was just another hurdle he'd have to jump over to achieve his goal.

On the drive back to his place you held onto the negative tests from both of you. Gojo was thinking of all the ways he'd be able to convince you to remove it, even thinking about including Mei in his plans. Knowing if the words came from another woman, you'd hear them more clearly than if they came from him.

All it would take was a few bucks and she’d play along with his plans, yeah. That's a good idea.

He wanted to call Mei right there as he was driving, urging her to call you and tell you how bad iud’s were for your health. But he knew this idea would have to be nursed in your mind with time. ‘1? No, 2 months is more than enough time.’

Eventually you were convinced that iud’s were the devil, with Mei telling you horror stories about them in one ear, and ads on your phone showing birth control pills as an alternative from how much you were speaking about this.

You knew that Satoru wouldn't go back to using condoms, the conversation of asking him to use them would be futile.

So you got it removed, with Gojo telling you that it's for the best. “That poor little thing was probably working overtime heh~” he’d whisper into your ear. Taking one pill a day was tedious, but you did it for your own health.

Even if Satoru joked that- “You don't even need any birth control~” you still took it. Everyday for the first month.

Of course, Gojo was elated at his success. Knowing that the small pack of pills were easier to hide than something that was inside of you.

And with staying at his place more often than not- leaving the pack of pills in your bag became an unsecure hiding place. Oftentimes finding the pack in odd places that you certainly did not put them. When you wouldn't be able to find them, you'd ask him if he's seen them. Making him nod his head ‘no’ with a content smile.

Ultimately leading you to miss one or two days of taking the pill. And that led you to forgetting if you had taken a pill that day or not, but checking the pack, and seeing there was one missing from that day, you knew you did. Unknowing that Satoru was punching out the small pill and tossing it, knowing how forgetful you were at times.

The hopes of you being forgetful weren't the only thing he was counting on. Satoru made sure to keep a steady routine of intercourse after any activity.

Breakfast? He'd push you against the counter and kiss you- humming into your mouth before pulling away. “You taste like syrup-” he whispered against you. Making you let out a small giggle before connecting your lips to his once more.

Not caring if the half eaten pancakes would go cold, Satoru would gladly empty himself into you over and over again on the same counter he was just making breakfast on.

Morning, noon, and night he filled you up. And it's not like you had any second thoughts, besides it's like Satoru justified it.

“It just takes a little bit of water nd soap and you're clean again.” whenever you told him you didn't want to make a mess. Saying that sheets can be cleaned whenever he’d dirty them.

“Mops exist.” he’d defend whenever his seed would spill out of you and land on the floor.

If he was being honest, just knowing his cum was being spilled made his soul cry. So he found a solution to this problem. Cockwarming. It was perfect in his mind, being able to stay inside of you till he was sure his load had more than enough time to impregnate you. Now having a fondness for keeping you plugged up afterwards.

Not letting you clean up by saying, “Let's just stay like this.” he’d hum in your ear, holding you close as he pretended to go to sleep. And knowing how stubborn he was- like a perfect future wife, you'd let him.

As much as he liked to take all the credit, fate finally granted him his wish. And it was as he pictured it.

Satoru noticed a shimmering glow on your cheekbones long before you did, he felt the difference in the way your breasts filled his hands.

The way you'd cover your nose whenever you smelled something he didn't notice. The random mornings you wake up and run straight to the bathroom.

The mere image of you potentially being pregnant made Gojo want to pull you under him again. He would never admit it to you- but the idea of your breasts full of milk, so full that they'd leak- it drove him mad.

His mouth would suddenly feel very empty and dry anytime he thought of it. Trailing thoughts as he heard you speak, wondering if you'd ever let him taste it- ‘just to taste’ he’d think. Knowing damn well he'd keep asking for a taste over and over again.

Satoru was so sure he could convince you to let him nurse on your breast. Picturing you complaining on how full they felt- how painful it would be. Only for him to happily offer his assistance, “I just want to help,” he'd tell you.

And you being the perfect wife you are, you'd let him. Satoru relished the thought that you'd grant any of his wishes, no matter how filthy they were. Even thinking about it had him reeling for a taste- leading him to aimlessly suck on your breast harshly.

Wishing for something to come out prematurely, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you cradled his face in your lap, your other hand stroking his cock softly as you unknowingly played into his fantasies.

On one weekend that Gojo was out of town, you picked up a test. Fearing the small changes happening in your own body. Placing the small stick on the bathroom counter, hands held together almost in prayer, ‘pleasepleaseplease.’ you muttered to yourself.

Over consuming anxiety flooding your mind as you saw the blinking halt- ‘Pregnant’ the test read. You exhaled sharply, closing your eyes and feeling the world come crashing down on your shoulders.

Unbeknownst to Satoru, you thought this would be the last straw. Thinking he couldn't busy himself with a child, let alone have a child out of wedlock- not even in a relationship.

Not even sure about your own place in this world, now considering bringing a child into it. You thought up every single horrible scenario that could happen if you presented him with the stick. Not even recalling all the sweet words he'd tell you.

The ‘ I love you’s ‘ that came straight from his heart when he'd fuck you. All the joking futures he’d picture with you.

Somehow you saw him as every cruel man you met before him. Doubts of ‘if I was enough, he wouldn't just be a situationship.’ unfolding in your mind as you blame yourself for this accident.

You inhaled, remembering to not overthink. To not assume till you spoke to him. So you waited. You waited in his place, on his couch. The white and blue stick wrapped in a napkin as you clutched it in your pocket. Waiting for him to unlock the door and step through at any moment.

You snapped your head to the moving doorknob, seeing him bust through the doorway with a happy smile. Seeing you as he pictured you all those times. Tear stained cheeks, shaky hands and pouting lips. Hurrying to you asking ‘whats wrong?’

“Sit.” you croaked, closing your eyes with a sigh as you felt him sit next to you. Pulling out your hand from your pocket, unwrapping the napkin and placing the stick on the table.

“I'm pregnant.” you whimpered, eyes tearing up as you saw his face go unchanged. The corner of his lips threatening to curl into a smile. “What do I do ‘toru? Tell me what to do.” a hot tear fell from your eye, fearing that he’d toss you aside with a few hundred dollars to take care of it.

“Why’re you cryin?” he hummed, wrapping an arm around you. You let out a struggling breath.

“I just-” you inhaled, “I'm so scared.” you cried, pressing your face to his chest.

“Scared of what?” he scoffed, trying to sound sincere, fighting off the sinister smile that crept onto his face. Proud eyes staring directly to the blue and white plastic stick.

You pulled away from him, not being able to find the words to form the sentences. Satoru took your hands in his, looking into your eyes with all the feigned sincerity he could muster.

“I will take care of you.” he started, caressing his thumb over your knuckles as you sniffled. Taking a hand from yours and pressing it to your tummy, “Both of you.” he said with a smile, making you halt your tears and look at him bewildered.

Not knowing why he looked so excited right now, why he looked… accomplished? Seeing that glimmer in his eye he only got when he triumphed.

.... I don't know what to say. im sowy this doesn't have as much smut. yes this is a Segway to me one day writing a lactation kink post, im just testing the waters hehe

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3K notes · View notes

tgcg · 1 year ago

Text

argument

its a big one

TG: alright this is probably a bust

TG: more i think about it how the fuck do you even make a marinara

TG: can i even alchemise cheese or do i gotta like alchemise the milk and curdle it myself

TG: how do you even curdle

====================

TG: make a goddamn

TG: curgler

TG: whatever

TG: internet archive gonna pull through

====================

CG: ALRIGHT DAVE

TG: shit

====================

CG: YOU BETTER BACK THE FUCK OFF. I DON'T KNOW WHERE IN BULGEMUNCHING VIRULENT FUCK YOU GET THE IDEA YOU HAVE ANY RIGHT TO TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD THINK ABOUT MY OWN GODDAMN PLANET. SORRY TO HAVE TO DEAL A BLOW TO YOUR IMPOSSIBLY INFLATED FUCKING EGO, BUT HAVE YOU EVER CONSIDERED THAT YOUR SIDE-EYE SLACKJAW HOPELESS DEADPAN BULLSHIT BEHAVIOUR IS ACTUALLY INCREDIBLY FUCKING CONTEMPTIBLE AND DOESN'T PUT YOU ABOVE OTHER PEOPLE? HAVE YOU CONSIDERED THAT?

CG: OR DID YOU JUST ASSUME FROM THE MOMENT YOU FOUND OUT I'M A REVOLTING FUCKING MUTANT LOWBLOOD FREAK THAT I'M SUDDENLY NOT ALLOWED TO LIKE THE IDEA OF MY LIFE MEANING SOMETHING AT SOME POINT?

TG: okay you are wildly misquoting me where the fuck did that come from

TG: also you scared the hell out of me

TG: im just trying to science some pizza here

====================

CG: OKAY THEN, DAVE! EXPLAIN TO ME AS WELL AS YOUR AMBLING ONE-NOTE SMOOTH EXCUSE FOR A 'THOUGHT'SPONGE CAN

CG: IN SOMEWHAT COHERENT TERMS, ALTHOUGH I KNOW THAT'S A TALL ORDER:

CG: HOW YOU SAYING MY ADOLESCENT DREAMS OF BECOMING A THRESHECUTIONER ARE "FUCKED UP AND IRONIC IN A NASTY ASS WAY" DOESN'T QUALIFY AS UNDERHANDEDLY KICKING ME IN THE MANDIBLE PRONGS!

CG: YOUR AUDIENCE AWAITS YOU WITH BATED BREATH! TAKE IT AWAY, M.C. BRAIN HEMORRHAGE.

====================

TG: okay i dont

TG: know how you got a hold of that phrasing because i said that shit in confidence

TG: get out of my business bro

CG: NEWSFLASH, ASSHOLE: THIS METEOR IS A PHYSICAL, LITERAL LOCATION WE'RE BOTH IN. IT'S NOT A FUCKING PRIVATE CHATROOM. THIS MIGHT BLOW YOUR PITIFUL MIND BUT PEOPLE CAN ACTUALLY HEAR OTHER PEOPLE TALK WHEN THEY HAVE TO SHARE A SPACE! BRO!

TG: ugh

====================

CG: AND IT'S VERY INTERESTING YOU ACCUSE ME OF MISQUOTING YOU, AND THEN SUDDENLY TURN AND SPOUT FROM THAT SHITTY DRONING GROANSHAFT OF YOURS THAT I'M INVADING YOUR PRIVACY WHEN I DIRECTLY QUOTE YOUR SMARMY LITTLE SHAMEGLOBES!

CG: WOW! TURNS OUT KARKAT IS ACTUALLY BEING GENUINELY FUCKING UPSET ABOUT SOMETHING — WHO KNEW, RIGHT? WHO WOULD'VE GUESSED THAT I ACTUALLY HAVE GENUINE COMPLAINTS TO LEVEL AGAINST THE PEOPLE WHO GO SPOUTING HOOFBEASTSHIT ABOUT ME BEHIND MY BACK TO THEIR ECTOSIBLINGS?

TG: no dude can you shut up a second

CG: I MOST CERTAINLY FUCKING WILL, THANKS FOR THE OFFER! I'M NEVER TELLING YOU A GODDAMN THING AGAIN, SO I HOPE YOU MANAGE TO GAIN SOME WRINKLES TO THAT VESTIGIAL FLAWLESS ORB FLOATING AROUND IN YOUR CAVERNOUS NUGBONE FROM ALL THIS. I HOPE IT WAS WORTH ALL THE EFFORT ON YOUR END.

TG: listen!!!!

====================

CG: MHM! MY AURICULAR CHAMBERS ARE WIDE OPEN!

TG: jegus

TG: okay

TG: i have no defense for my literal phrasing but how expeditiously did you shadowstep the fuck away after i said that

TG: because that is some shrek tier "princess and ugly dont go together" level misrepresentation of my sweet self

TG: like if this wasnt obviously a heated platonic argument we were having i would probably be digging what the reference even if it was a shitty trope

====================

TG: i just

TG: have been thinking about some things and none of those things have got an iota of a thing to do with you or your blood

TG: thing

TG: man

TG: i dont know why you think id be so pressed about your vein juice its like

TG: a normal ass color for a normal ass guy

TG: and obviously it was a major fucking deal from how you talk about it but it doesnt need to be anymore

====================

TG: the thing is i just dont like have the same attitude as you about fighting and stuff and thats not something i am getting into right now but i am gonna make it expressly clear

TG: that its just kind of fucked up for me to sit my ass down and listen to someone spew gold and medals and confetti colored shit going googoo all over tall and loathsome ass bloodletters he never knew

TG: and have him tell me he wants to be the best guy at combat since samurai fuckin jack

TG: and thats my capital B business believe me the emphasis is there

====================

CG: SO IS THIS ABOUT ME WANTING TO BE PART OF SOMETHING YOU DON'T AGREE WITH? BECAUSE THRESHECUTIONERS DON'T EVEN FUCKING EXIST ANYMORE. I LITERALLY COULD NOT DO THIS IF I TRIED AT THIS POINT, SO YOU CAN UNKNOT YOUR “KNIGHTY WHITIES” ABOUT IT.

TG: being anti-military is not my point but damn if it isnt a thing thats probably true anyways so good job sleuthing that out

CG: WHAT IS YOUR POINT, DAVE.

TG: bluh

TG: i just said i dont wanna talk about it man

====================

CG: OKAY,

====================

CG: OKAY.

CG: I MEAN. IT FEELS KIND OF IMPORTANT TO THE CONTEXT OF THIS WHOLE UNAMBIGUOUSLY PLATONIC ARGUMENT WE'VE BEEN HAVING

CG: WHICH I'M RELIEVED WE AGREE ON BY THE WAY

CG: BUT IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO KNOW I'M NOT GOING TO WRING IT OUT OF YOU. IT'S FINE.

====================

CG: …IF YOU DECIDE AT SOME POINT THAT YOU WANT TO TELL ME THOUGH, MY RUMBLE VESSELS ARE STILL OPEN.

TG: i swear youre making those up on the spot at this point

CG: I'M KEEPING MY LANGUAGE'S ART ALIVE, DAVE. IT'S BASIC DECENCY TO THE PLANET THAT RAISED ME.

TG: heh

====================

TG: yknow we got these things called anatomical snuffboxes

TG: its got that right amount of vague nose wrinklage to it that i feel like youd be right at home saying that

TG: snug as a grub even

CG: WHAT PART IS THAT???

TG: its that little weird bone bit that sticks out on the back of your palm when you flex your thumb right

====================

TG: look

CG: HUH. LOOKING AT THAT IS KIND OF WIGGING ME OUT.

TG: yeah its kinda gross rose told me about it

TG: but anyways

====================

TG: are we cool

CG: I MEAN… I GUESS SO. YOU WEREN'T ACTUALLY INSULTING ME, RIGHT?

TG: hell no dude never

CG: OKAY. I COMPLETELY RESCIND THE MYRIAD OF WAYS I JUST INSULTED YOU. AND I'M SORRY.

TG: nah i know its just fluff at this point

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CG: I STILL DON'T APPRECIATE YOU TELLING ROSE THINGS I SAY TO YOU IN CONFIDENCE. THAT WAS BETWEEN YOU, ME, AND MY NOW NON-EXISTENT HOME PLANET ROTTING AWAY TO A CRATERED GRAY HUSK IN ANOTHER DEAD UNIVERSE.

TG: i swear that was like the only thing its just that she gets it and i cant keep my mouth from going on about the gettable stuff

TG: they call me the babbling brook the way my flows so audible

TG: i wont do it again

CG: NO,

====================

CG: I GET IT HONESTLY.

CG: I'M BASICALLY THE NUMBER ONE PROPRIETOR OF AIRED GRIEVANCES IN ALL OF PARADOX SPACE AND THEN SOME, AND I'D ALSO BECOME ITS BIGGEST HYPOCRITE IF I HELD IT AGAINST YOU.

TG: thanks

TG: but i mean

TG: at the gigantic risk of sounding uh

====================

TG: ………..

CG: ?

====================

TG: well

TG: i kinda just think youre better at being a guy to chill out and watch movies with than a guy to tangle fists with

TG: and i dont think theres anything wrong with being that

TG: i think its cool

====================

CG: …THAT'S AN ALARMINGLY BRAZEN OBSERVATION TO MAKE OF SOMEONE YOU'VE KNOWN FOR ABOUT THE SPAN OF SEVEN SEASONAL EQUINOXES, DAVE.

TG: i dont know what that means but it sure is probably

CG: AM I ALLOWED TO ASK WHAT EVEN GIVES YOU THAT IMPRESSION????

TG: i just got that inkling about you man

====================

TG: and you can do whatever you want with that info

TG: throw it in the load gaper or whatever if you want i dont really care

TG: give it a swirly and slam it in a locker call it a nerd break its glasses whatever

TG: but beyond this whole lord english thing weve got going on i am pretty content to never aggress my fellow man slash alien slash monster again if i can help it

TG: i think thats pretty fair given what thats been like so far

====================

TG: and yknow its cool to have some company when im waxing emotional over the narrative depth of click starring adam sandler which we are watching next by the way

CG: UGH, FIIIIIIIIINE. JUST TO MAKE UP FOR CALLING YOUR THINKPAN SMOOTH AND SUPERFLUOUS.

====================

TG: score

TG: we should argue all the time

CG: SNRK

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #homestuck #meteorstuck #comix #argument

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daisyblog · 2 months ago

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Mortgage

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN tells Harry she can’t pay the mortgage this month as part of a TikTok trend.

YN had seen several versions of people telling their partners they can’t contribute or pay the mortgage that month, and thought it would be interesting to try it with Harry.

Harry was sitting at the wooden dining table eating some lunch when YN began to film her husband discreetly.

“Bubs?”. She called the nickname, causing Harry to lift his head from where his eyes met the plate. “I’ve got something to tell you”.

Harry lifted his head in more curiosity as he saw the concerned look on his wife’s face. “Is everything alright babe?”.

YN shook her head lightly from behind the camera. “I’m not going to be able to pay for the mortgage this month…like not contribute anything”.

Harry’s lips threatened to smile slightly as the edge of his lips lifted into a smirk. “That’s okay love…you don’t need to worry about that”.

“Why are you smiling? This is serious to me!”. YN added a defensive tone to her question as she saw the smirk on her husbands face.

He held his hands up in defence as he realised maybe YN was serious about this. “I’m not but we have a joint account…so my money is your money, and your money is my money…so it doesn’t really matter love”.

“But I can’t pay it this month!”, YN tried to milk out the trend to see how far she could go with it.

“YN…babe…how often do you check the bank account?”. YN didn’t answer. “I check it regularly…we’re fine love…don’t stress about it okay?”.

“You’re the best…you know that?”. YN smiled lovingly at her husband, who smiled back watching as his wife walked towards the living room. “Grace…let’s go shopping!”.

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994 @macy-tpwk @mrs-anna-styles211994

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pboogerswbb · 1 month ago

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SO IT GOES - chapter 4

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual themes and language, hoops written by lila... Wordcount: 5K A/C: and by tomorrow i meant now hehe, anyways - uh... I WROTE HOOPS INTO THIS so be nice to me. please. something about it is soo intimidating to me so if it makes zero sense that's not on me at least it makes sense in my head. UH ANYWAY send your thoughts and feedback i'm nervous abt this one haha go read

Before London

“One more girls, c’mon, sell it!” Koclanes’ voice echoes around College Park Center, joined with the squeaking of our sneakers against the floor. I glance at Arike who throws her head back in frustration, mumbling to herself, mirroring exactly how I felt deep inside. We had been working on this same play for what felt like at least an hour, running the drill repeatedly. The muscles in my thighs ache as I roll my fatigued shoulders, walking to mid-court, too tired to jog. According to Chris we weren’t convincing enough. So here we go again.

I advance the ball upcourt with practiced ease, the ball bouncing in a steady rhythm against the hardwood. For the 15th time today my eyes follow Arike, as she backs into the weak-side corner, positioning herself beyond the arc. I slow down my pace, threading the ball through my legs, face to face with the defense. My eyes stay sharp, focused, glancing into the corner. She’s ready.

Suddenly I dribble forward into the paint, not to shoot but to pass to Arike, whose knees bent, hands up, ready for me in the corner. The defense makes a quick read of my actions, drawing out players to defend the perimeter. I sell it, my eyes locked on Arike, when Satou cuts to the basket at the correct time, and without looking, I deliver the final deceptive blow. Anticipating Satou’s movements and the little I can see from my peripheral vision, I pull off the no-look through the legs, the ball effectively landing in Satou’s hands who finishes the play with a smooth drive to the basket. Like we had done about a zillion times already this afternoon.

No one celebrates, it was much too early to. Instead, we all turn to Koclanes in anticipation. He looks at us, rubbing his jaw with a straight face - until his mouth twists into a grin.

“You sold it! You sold it guys!”

Simultaneously, me and Arike let out relieved sighs as the team on the bench cheers, clapping their hands together. Satou comes up from behind me and squeezes my shoulder.

“About time huh?” She groans as we all walk towards the benches, each taking turns to high five our coach. Chris checks the watch on his wrist, audibly gasping.

“Yikes! What crazy man let practice run this late?” He jokes, causing the crowd of girls to laugh, me included. I feel his hand tap on my shoulder, my head snapping to him.

“Good job Paige,” he smiles.

“Thanks coach,” I grin, throwing my head back to chug some water, still not having adjusted to the difference in praise, Geno’s often few and far between. My blue eyes scan the seats in the crowd. There she is, Izzie, eyes twinkling, book snug in her armpit as she claps and begins to make her way down. In the past couple weeks me and the dark haired girl had found a new routine. Each morning we met downstairs, and I drove her to work, and in the evenings she sat courtside, working or reading her books, waiting for me. It felt easy, effortless and in the meantime I had gotten to know her even better.

I knew she was in a bad mood in the mornings, often unwilling to engage with my overflowing energy before she had a coffee in her hands. Which she preferred to drink black, but on special occasions enjoyed an oat milk latte. She wasn’t picky about it though - ready to finish whatever sugary coffee concoction I had ordered just for the caffeine if I offered. She liked to hum quietly along to songs, but was embarrassed if I acknowledged her singing. She kicked her heels off the moment she entered her apartment. She knew ball, like really knew ball but was hesitant to discuss the sport with me - which let me know she didn’t like to be wrong, afraid I might call her out for a bad take.

She was nurturing, oftentimes climbing into my car with homemade breakfast after she found out about my recent poptart habit, my old healthy routines too disrupted by the recent move to Dallas. She covered her mouth when she laughed. Her face scrunched ever so slightly when I said something out of pocket. I had found out that her favourite movie was Lady and The Tramp and Paris was her favourite city in the world - she even spoke a little French. I had also found out that there was nothing I could do to shake the crush I had on her, so for the first time ever, I just let it be. We had become friends, and I was glad. Although my teammates were less believing of this, Arike and Lou pointing out repeatedly how red my face turned when the media producer was brought up.

“That pass was incredible! I’m so excited to see all that in action,” Izzie gleams, approaching me and Arike. Her praise makes my stomach twist in knots, a bashful smile growing on my face. Our first game was approaching much faster than I could’ve ever anticipated, now only a little more than a week to go.

We weren't… great. But I had quickly learned to work with Arike, though she still struggled to remember that she had another teammate to rely on - someone to pass to instead of driving through four defenders for a bucket. To my relief, me and Satou had found a groove even quicker, the time we had spent finessing the pick-and-rolls and high-low action already showing.

”I think she’s just wantin’ to show out,” Arike grins, winking at me, like Izara wasn’t standing right in front of us.

”Nothing new about that,” Iz laughs.

”Alright enough,” I chuckle, wiping the sweat off my forehead on the damp towel in my hands. I watch as Rike’s face lights up, a wide grin spreading on her face as she jogs off to greet Lala, her fiance, walking over from the side entrance.

”Hey baby,” Lala smiles, kissing the younger woman carefully, not wanting to get sweat on herself. ”Tell me y’all are done, I’ve been waiting in that car for an hour.”

”Nahh don’t blame Rike, that’s my bad,” I smile, leaning over to greet her with a polite hug.

”You’re our child you could do nothin’ wrong,” Lala says affectionately. Ever since I moved the couple had made sure I was okay, that I didn’t feel alone. Problem was, I was terrible at expressing my emotions, so of course I never told anyone how badly I was struggling. Though that feeling was mostly gone now. Dallas was starting to feel like home, slowly but surely.

For a while all four of us stand there, the pair watching me expectantly. Realising too late what I was supposed to do, Arike starts.

”Baby this is Zari, she’s our new media girl, Zari this is Lala, my fiance.”

Oh right. It probably would’ve given me some points in Izara’s books if I had been the one to introduce her.

”Hello, it’s lovely to meet you!” The brit gleams, shaking Lala’s hand.

”Ohhh she’s British huh? I love your skirt girl,” Lala says with her usual warmth. She wasn’t wrong - the champagne coloured satin skirt flowing to Izzie’s calves, accentuating the natural curve of her waist. My mind quickly swirls out of control, the memory of her in the lululemon set still fresh in my mind for I had reminisced in it many times ever since our little workout. The way her body looked, how badly my hand wanted to travel all the way down her back, how soft the skin of her ass would feel under my grip, what it would look like when I knead it - I’ve got to stop. We’re friends. I’m happy to be friends. That’s it.

”Oh thank you! Your nails are gorgeous,” Izzie answers, admiring the long acrylics. Lala wiggles her decorated hands for Izzie, making her gasp.

”And that ring, my goodness,” she coos, taking hold of the other woman’s hands gently to admire the diamond on Lala’s ring finger closer. ”That is the size of my head.”

”Well you know me, only the best for the wife,” Rike joins in, smirking proudly. The couple turn to each other smiling, sharing a few gentle pecks. My blue eyes glance at Izara, only to find her already watching me. For a second our eyes meet, till she looks down to the floor, turning to look for something in her bag.

”You coming to the party right?” Rike asks, elbowing me. The couple had just moved to a new apartment and wanted to host some of their friends and team for a last-minute housewarming party.

”Wouldn’t miss it,” I answer. But Lala’s eyes are fixed on Iz, still roaming through her bag.

”Zari, you got plans this weekend?” She asks kindly.

”Work, rest, gym, more work,” the girl chuckles, finally placing her purse on her shoulder. I wanna reach over and fix the hair stuck underneath the strap, but before I can, she does it herself.

”Well you should come too!” Lala suggests, glancing at her fiance.

Arike grins, eyes flickering between me and Izara. ”You should, Paige would like it if you came for sure.”

Jesus. Attempting to resist rolling my eyes, I close them, letting out a heavy exhale which makes Rike chuckle to herself. Lala shuts her up, elbowing her fiance’s side. God bless that woman.

”We would like it too. Dallas can get lonely if you don’t have good people around you,” she says to Iz softly.

The girl's green eyes flicker from Lala to me, back to Lala until she nods. ”Okay. I think I could make time, thank you for the invitation.”

”No problem girl,” Lala smiles, glancing at me and Arike. ”You two go shower so us girls can get out of here.”

”Yes ma’am,” Rike grins, grabbing her towel and water bottle ready to head out.

”I’mma be quick,” I tell Izzie, my voice softening exponentially as I talk to her. She smiles, her hand grabbing my forearm gently as she speaks.

”I’ll wait here.”

”I’ll keep her company,” Lala hums, sitting down courtside, tapping the seat next to her for Izara.

I leave the two girls on their own, skin of my forearm on fire still from the simplest touch.

Mum ❤️ Jasper called, said he’s been trying to reach you. Have you gotten his calls? Please call him.

I read the text over and over as it lights up my phone screen, disturbing me from the post schedule I’d been working on for the past hour. For others Friday nights meant cocktails and late nights and unwinding. For me it meant finishing this week’s work and an episode of Love Island before going to bed at 9:30 PM sharp. So here I am, in my satin pajamas, hair up in a bun, scheduling one post after another for the weekend.

Groaning, I grab my phone preparing to send a strongly worded text to Jasper to stop being in contact with my mother - but I’m interrupted by urgent knocks on my front door. I check the time. 8:30 PM. Why would someone be needing me at this hour?

I tiptoe across the short corridor straight to my front door, unlocking it carefully. It’s Paige.

Suddenly I’m painfully aware of my appearance, of how short the navy blue satin shorts are on my long legs, how the strap of the matching flowy top is hanging off my shoulder. Swiftly, I pull the strand back up, taking my hair down and running my hand through it before I even make eye contact with the blonde.

“Hey Paige, you okay?”

Her blue eyes roam up and down my body, making me cross my arms over my chest. I didn’t like people seeing me like this, when I wasn’t prepared. When I wasn’t in control of how I was being viewed.

“You goin’ to sleep?” Paige asks, a hint of a smirk on her face. “It’s like 8.”

“8:30,” I correct, watching as she leans against my door frame.

“It’s Friday night Iz,” the blonde chuckles. I run my hand through the ends of my dark hair again, feeling bashful under her intense gaze.

“I’ve got work to do,” I explain. “Did you need something love?”

Paige lets out a dramatic groan and throws her head back.

“I’m boreeeeeeeed,” she moans theatrically, pouting at me. I feel a slight flutter in my chest when her pleading eyes meet mine.

“Go to sleep Paige,” I chuckle, ready to close the door but her strong grip holds it open.

“You wanna watch a movie or something?”

I rub my forehead, thinking of all the work that would be piled up if I didn’t do it today. But her offer was tempting, getting to just sit on the couch and watch TV sounded like heaven. And to get to spend time with a friend. No, I should work. Especially if I wanted to go to Lala’s and Arike’s tomorrow.

“Paige, I really should be working,” I tell her more seriously now.

The blonde sighs, shifting on her feet, eyes locked in mine.

“C’mon Izzie, take a break with me,” she murmurs, the taller girl’s hand coming over and stroking my arm quickly. Goosebumps rise on my skin, her fingertips cold on my warm skin. “Please. Just this once.”

My head feels dizzy suddenly, skin burning. I must turn the AC up. Still, the way Paige’s eyes are begging me for company, the whine in her voice only convincing me further. Fuck. Fine.

“Come in,” I sigh, stepping out of the way. With a smug grin she walks in, pleased she got me to bend to her will.

“But, only for a little. I need to finish work before I go to bed.”

“You got it,” the blonde smirks, taking off her shoes before I can even ask. Her hair is damp, curling just a little in its natural state, and her sweats are hanging low on her waist, sagging.

“Have you eaten?” I ask, my need to nurture the blonde taking over once again.

“I have ma,” Paige coos, following me into my apartment. I can feel her eyes boring into me when I grimace at the nickname.

“What did you call me?” I giggle, planting myself on the couch, my shorts hiking up further as I sit. Paige’s cheeks flush red, and she scratches the back of her neck.

“Uhh, my bad, old habit,” she murmurs, chuckling awkwardly. “You don’t like it?”

I furrow my brows, watching her sit on the opposite corner of the couch, legs spread wide as she does. “What kind of nickname is that anyway?” I laugh, not having heard it before.

Paige lets out a single laugh and shrugs. “I dunno, just something we say here I guess.”

Biting her lower lip as she watches me, the blonde lets out a heavy exhale, eager to change the topic.

“You want a milkshake? I’m craving one bad,” Paige asks, grabbing her phone and scrolling through Uber Eats.

I shake my head, watching her closely. Her long fingers making the phone look small in her big hand.

“No, I shouldn’t,” I say. “I don’t like having sugar in the evenings.”

Paige’s eyes flicker from her phone to me, back to her phone. The blonde’s brows raise as she smiles. “I’m sayin’ this with no disrespect. You need to learn to relax.”

I scoff. “I know how to relax. After work I was going to make a cup of tea and watch Love Island before bed.”

“Prove it, get a milkshake with me,” she dares. I think for a while, perhaps once couldn’t hurt. And I had a feeling she would keep whining until I said yes, which would mean she’d stay for longer - which would mean I wouldn’t finish my work.

“Don’t make me get one alone, please.”

Finally, I fold, Paige nodding her head to signal me over to her corner of the couch. I scooch along the seat, closing the distance to peep at the blonde’s phone screen. I settle next to her, pressing gently against her side, my thigh nestling onto hers. I hear Paige’s breath grow shallow, her arm resting on the back of the couch, bare skin of her forearm grazing against my upper back. Suddenly, I feel my mind spinning, but I clear my throat, trying to ignore it, or the way my side tingles against her.

“Whatchu want Iz?” Paige’s voice is breathy and hoarse, her face turning to me. I meet her gaze, my heart pounding when I realise how close she is, only a few inches away.

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” I reply, and my voice is… shaking? I’m not entirely sure why, but it’s enough to make my cheeks flush pink.

The blonde’s tongue darts out to lick her lower lip, making it glisten in the soft light of my living room.

“Why don’t we get two different ones and we can share, yeah?”

I nod, my lips parted, Paige’s warm, minty breath grazing my face. Despite the little clothing I was wearing, I felt heat spread everywhere, making me burn up, forcing my chest to heave.

“Uh, I’m going to turn up the AC,” I mumble, abruptly getting up, focusing on each step as to not mess them up - my mind spinning and swirling with something I didn’t understand. Fiddling with the AC I rub my own shoulders, trying to massage the tension away. It wasn’t helping.

Suddenly I feel warm, sure hands touching my back, moving upwards to my shoulder blades and digging into my skin.

“You okay?” Paige asks, her voice still deep as she stands behind me and works my muscles gently.

“Mm, yeah, just… tense,” I murmur, feeling every cell in my body wanting to melt away under her touch. Something I hadn’t felt in months, no, years.

“I told you,” Paige begins, her hands inching downwards to my lower back, kneading the skin there. “I’m right upstairs, if you need to relax.”

I let out a soft exhale, as we stand there, my eyes fluttering shut. “Well you’re here now,” I hum.

“I am,” the blonde whispers, hands sneaking even lower, to the hemline of my top, fingertips sneaking underneath ever so slightly. I bite my lip to hold in the shaky breath threatening to spill from my lips when her cool fingers massage the exposed skin. A heat spreads in my lower abdomen, making it hard to stand all of a sudden.

Suddenly, a buzz blares through the intercom, shaking us both out of the moment. Paige’s hands pull away abruptly as I take a breath to compose myself, allowing the loud buzzing to continue.

“Uh, must be the delivery guy,” Paige murmurs, reaching over my shoulder to let them in. I try to find my voice, something to say, but words seem to get stuck so I stay quiet, too absorbed by the heat roaming my stomach and thighs.

I had never seen Love Island before, and honestly, even after Izzie tried to explain, I still had no idea what was going on. All I could think about is how close I had been to leaning down and pressing soft, wet kisses on the back of her neck as I stood behind her in the corridor. To feel even more of her soft, tender skin by pulling that skimpy, flowy top off. To snake my arms around her waist and drag my hand down her stomach into her tiny shorts, my fingers hooking on her panties and pulling them to the side. I bet she’d be soaked at that point. But I’d take my time, rub slow circles on her clit till-

“So how is it?” Iz asks, curled up against the opposite corner of the couch. She’s sipping on the peanut butter cup milkshake carefully, eyeing the strawberry one in my hands, resting on my lap. Ever since she’d opened that front door I had been fighting not to ogle over her long, bare legs, her brown skin glowing from her post shower moisturiser, which smelled like rich vanilla.

“It’s good, y’wanna try?” I offer, shaking the cup in my lap. With a coy smile, she crawls over, her hair falling over her shoulder. I watch, my need for relief between my thighs growing overwhelmingly.

The dark haired girl presses to my side as I hold the cup up, my gaze following closely when her plump, moisturized lips wrap around the straw. Her cheeks hollow as she sucks, eyes fluttering shut. It’s like slow motion, the way it happens. And when her lids blink open again and she pulls away from the straw, our gazes lock. It’s enough for me to squirm and press my thighs together, feeling my core aching for something more.

“You like?” I ask, voice gentle. She nods, a small smile on her lips.

“I prefer that one.”

That instant, I grab the peanut butter shake from her, handing the girl the strawberry one.

“Wait, which one do you prefer?” She asks, chuckling a little.

“This one,” I answer confidently, lying as I sip on the peanut butter one. It’s enough to convince her. I watch Izzie pull a blanket over her legs, making me feel just the tiniest bit disappointed when they disappear from my view. However, she doesn’t move away, staying pressed against my side.

“Oh, sorry, did you want some?”

“Uh what?” I ask, discombobulated.

“Blanket, dummy,” she giggles, reaching over to place some over my legs.

“Sure,” I murmur, the idea of being under the same blanket with her making my head spin.

We sit next to each other, our thighs pressing together as we sip on our milkshakes, eyes focused on the tv. Or hers are. Mine keep fluttering back to her side profile, her dark, long eyelashes and the sharp tip of her nose.

“I can’t finish this,” Iz complains unsurprisingly considering the times I had heard her complain about the size of portions here in the States.

“No?” I ask, my shake already long gone.

“No,” the girl yawns and hands it to me, and in a silent exchange I grab it and finish it for her. Much like she did with my coffees in the mornings.

Just as the show begins to get interesting (though I still had no idea what the premise was), after about ten minutes or so, I feel Izara’s head tip against my shoulder. Heart beginning to pound once more, I glance down and notice that the girl’s eyes are shut. She must be asleep.

For a moment I just look at her, feeling the flutters grow in my stomach when she stirs slightly as I shift into a more comfortable position. Praying to God she stays asleep, I turn off the TV and make sure her bare feet are covered by the blanket, wrapping my arm around the back of the couch and pulling her close. Fighting the urge to lean down and press my nose against her hair, I grab my phone and scroll. We stay like that for at least 30 minutes, until my eyes begin to grow heavy too, my head nodding to the side and resting on top of hers as I drift to sleep.

The rays of the early morning sun penetrate through the blinds, the ache in my neck stirring me awake. I feel a weight on the left side of my body, my eyes batting open trying to focus on my surroundings. A living room that’s much like mine, yet the white lilies on the table tell me I’m not home.

“Mmhm,” a content hum makes my eyes flicker to my chest, where Izara is resting her head, arm draped over my waist, fast asleep. Suddenly the memory of her passed out in my arms from last night resurfaces. I must have fallen asleep too.

My arm is wrapped around her too, tingling as it begins falling asleep underneath the girl. There’s a certain softness to Izzie’s face that’s completely new to me. I begin to carefully pull my arm back, however it’s enough to cause the dark haired girl’s eyes to flutter open.

I watch closely as she goes through the same motions I had just a moment ago, until her green eyes land on me, head tilting upwards.. The moment she comes to a realisation about the way her arm and leg are draped over my body, a deep blush sets on her face.

“Shit, did we fall asleep?” Izzie asks, voice gravelly with sleep.

I rub my eyes, my hand holding her close and beginning to rub her lower back comfortingly - almost like out of a habit I hadn’t had the chance to build yet.

“We did,” I chuckle lightheartedly.

“Is it morning?” She asks, glancing at the sun rays shining in.

I check my phone. It’s 8:30 AM.

“Kinda,” I yawn, shutting my eyes again knowing neither of us had work or any reason to get up soon either way. Though Izara seems to disagree.

She sits up abruptly, burying her face in her hand. I bite my cheek, trying not to groan at the loss of the comforting weight of the girl on me.

“Fuck, I was supposed to get up an hour ago,” Iz groans.

“At 7:30? It’s Saturday Iz,” I laugh, but quickly realise she’s genuinely stressed.

“I didn’t even finish the scheduling last night!” She gasps in realisation, bringing her hand to her shoulders to massage the tension away. I sit up, replacing her hand with mine in an attempt to calm her down but she stands up, avoiding my touch.

“I knew this would happen if you came over Paige, that’s why I tried to say no! I have a job to do.”

It doesn’t bother me. What she’s saying. Because I can tell she’s not mad at me, really. She’s tense, she needs to relax.

“Iz,” I stop her rambling, standing up and wrapping my arms tightly around her, squeezing. It’s something my dad used to do, when I’d have anxiety or a meltdown as a child. The girl doesn’t fight me, but her breathing is shallow, tense as she stands still in my arms.

“Breathe with me,” I murmur softly, taking my time inhaling, and even more so when exhaling. Izara matches my breathing, and eventually, I feel the tenseness melt away from her body, which begins to mold into mine. I feel the girl’s hands wrap around my waist, her head resting against my chest again. It feels like heaven. I realise it’s the first time we’ve hugged.

“You okay?” I ask after a while, pulling my head back to look at the girl. That slight softness, reminiscent of how she looked while asleep returns to her face.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for getting like that,” she whispers, meeting my gaze. I shake my head.

“Don’t worry ma,” I murmur, which makes her giggle.

“I’m not so sure about that nickname,” she laughs infectiously, making me laugh too.

“Forreal? Girls usually like it,” I grin, making her break into giggles. Never unwrapping my arms, I walk her backwards to the couch, letting go to sit the girl down. Her green eyes look up at me, confused.

“Now you’re gonna sit down, and I’m gon’ make some coffee for you.”

“But what about wo-”

“It can wait, it’s the weekend. You got time. Now lie down, chill, and wait.”

“But you don’t know how to use my french press.”

“I’ll figure it out. Sit, please Iz.”

With a sigh she gives up, curling up against the corner of the couch and pulling a blanket over herself. Pride spreads over me for getting the girl to relax. All because of my efforts.

I make my way into her tidy kitchen, hands desperately googling for instructions on how to work the french press sitting on the counter. Following the video I found carefully, I leave the coffee to brew while opening the fridge, each shelf organised perfectly. Ignoring Izara’s plans for blueberry oatmeal written on the chalkboard, I grab some peppers, cherry tomatoes and zucchini, carefully chopping them up the way the dark haired girl taught me to - by holding the tip of the knife against the board.

I fry the vegetables, adding in a mix of eggs and milk and scrambling it all together until done. Rummaging through the cabinets I find plates and mugs, setting everything up for the both of us, making sure to give the bigger portion to Izara.

She’s lying down on the couch, nose already buried in a book as I set everything down on the coffee table. The dark haired girl puts her book down, eyes widening. Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have cooked.

“Uh, I made breakfast too, is that ok?” I ask, suddenly unsure.

She’s looking back and forth from the food to me. I chew on my lower lip to hide the nervousness.

“That’s… really sweet Paige,” she hums genuinely, reaching for her coffee and sipping on it. Relief washes over me, and I sit next to her. There’s something unfamiliar in her expression, something I can’t quite read.

“Well taste it first, thank me later,” I chuckle, handing Iz her plate. The girl’s lips wrap around the fork, and she smiles contentedly.

“This is delicious,” she smiles, taking another bite and turning to me. “Thank you,” Izzie murmurs, her hand squeezing my thigh affectionately. At that moment I decide no amount of praise by her would ever be enough. That I would continue to strive to get more as long as I could. I had no other choice.

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#so it goes #lilas writing #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers fanfic #paige bueckers fic #wnba x oc

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darkmatilda · 3 months ago

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╰┈➤ HALLOWEEN TRADITION

in which one you and reid match your outfits every year for halloween

tw: mention of shoo!ing, dea!h of an animal

contents: spencer reid x fem!reader, they're both obviously in love with each other, time skips

words: 7.5k

a year ago

“Oh, I already ordered. Caramel cappuccino, almond milk, double amount of vanilla syrup and cinnamon sprinkled on top, am I right?

“Your photographic memory is sometimes just terrifying”

“Thank you. By the way, are you still afraid to order this coffee in front of Rossi?”

“Yep. I always take regular macchiato. The last thing I need in work is his judgemental, Italian look…”

Meanwhile, as Reid let out a short laugh, you quickly took in your surroundings: the brick walls and oak tables, the decorative pumpkins by the entrance, and the menu hanging above the barista’s counter, adorned with (artificial) leaves. Just like every corner of this trashy coffee shop was trying to remind you about autumn.

One thing about you — you were an extreme autumn lover, who unfortunately was allergic to pumpkins, so you couldn’t fit the autumn white girl stereotype completely, by ordering a pumpkin spice latte. And you would rather die than wear a sweater. All of them were scratchy.

“So” started Reid, hitting a notebook cover with a pen. "I spent all of last evening and more than half of this morning writing down ideas for our Halloween costume this year. I made sure none of them were too similar to our last year's outfits or anything our friends have ever worn to make sure we’ll be the best-dressed people at the party”

“God, Reid, you really took it seriously this year” you raised your eyebrows, shocked and full of admiration at the same time. “And how many ideas did you find?”

“143”

“143?!” you repeated, assuming that he was just joking. Spencer was looking at you with a deadly serious face. “Are fucking crazy? How are we going to choose between 143 ideas? I can’t even choose what socks to wear in the morning…”

“144” he corrected. “When you were saying that I came with another one, Tyler and Marla from Fight Club…”

You had this tendency to forget the names of fictional characters (though, somehow, you could name every American serial killer who ever existed and everyone from your high school class. It was both funny and slightly terrifying that, in two cases, those names overlapped) so it took you a moment to realize who Reid was talking about.

“A guy with a red leather jacket? And this woman who was always smoking?”

“Their names are Tyler Durden and Marla Singer. I don't mean to sound rude, but you made me watch this movie and claimed it was one of your favorites, yet you don’t even remember the main characters' names?"

You shrugged your shoulders. You could say nothing in your defense, that was just the way you were. A subtle smile danced on your lips.

“When I started working with you” you meant the whole BAU “I couldn’t remember all of your names. About two months later I slowly started to recognize them because of how you were addressing each other but because everyone was calling Hotch by his surname I didn’t know his actual name for, like, years…”

Disbelief showed on Spencer’s face but then got replaced with amusement.

“Years?”

“Don’t you dare laugh at me because of my memory problem, mrs. I know the moon signs of everyone around me…”

He raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

“How could I dare, ms. I don’t remember my boss's name even though we’ve been working together for five years…”

“I couldn’t remember it back then! Shame on you, Reid. I shared my secret with you and you immediately started laughing…”

“And what did you want me to do? Make you an appointment with a neurologist?”

That's what our usual conversation looked like. Like a professional ping pong game. Year after a year, month after a month, day after a day you were just becoming better and better players.

Waitress came along your table, setting your orders on the table. You always had to smell your coffee first, cinnamon aroma ticked your nose.

“"Not that it means anything, but my memory problems have worsened since I met you." you said, taking the first sip of a coffee.

“What do you mean by that?“

“Well, I don’t have the need to remember anything when you remember literally everything that comes your way. You've spoiled me a bit in this regard."

Spencer smiled softly, with a little bit of pride, caused by your words.

“ Always at your service” he declared. Suddenly his back went straight, as he probably reminded himself about something. ”Did you call your brother today? It’s his birthday…

“ No way” you jumped on your seat and immediately started looking for your phone to check what day it was. 14 October. “God, Reid you’re right. I completely forgot…Have I already told you how much I love you?

You standed up, ready to leave the coffee, declaring that you’ll be back in a moment. People around were having their lunch. The whole place became too noisy for a birthday phone call with your older brother, who lived in a different state.

“Not today” He replied shortly.

“So, I’m telling you now, Spence. You’re the best friend I could ever imagine…”

As you were busy with dialing the right phone number and trying to wear your coat at the same time, you couldn’t see how his smile faded after the last sentence.

a week later

“It cost me like half of my salary” You said, tossing your dark hair back so it wouldn't accidentally catch fire while lighting the candle. A damn expensive candle, as you mentioned. “Another half goes for that little shit”

With a nod, you indicated the ginger cat that had already settled comfortably next to Spencer. He didn’t take his eyes off the laptop screen, checking something with a furrowed brow. With one hand, almost automatically, he gently scratched Mr. Cinnamon Roll behind the ear.

“It’s made only with fully natural ingredients. Vegan friendly. People with migraines friendly. Almost everyone friendly, except of your wallet” You continued your speech, agitated, recalling the guy in the store who refused to sell you a simple, cheap autumn candle, explaining its poor quality, and convinced you to buy the most expensive one he had.

Finally, the wick caught fire.

“So, you’ve got something?“

It was a late evening after work when you both felt exhausted, yet you decided to meet at your apartment to search online for essentials for your Halloween costumes. The idea of going as a couple from Fight Club had won.

You were supposed to be Marla, and he was to be Tyler. You weren’t a couple or anything like that, but for the past five years, it had been your tradition to wear matching outfits for the halloween party organized by your team. Usually, various other friends would join, and having more people allowed for a best costume contest, which you nearly won every year.

“Yeah, but you probably won't like that, considering that you’ve just confessed to spending your entire paycheck”

You set the candle down on the small coffee table in your living room and joined him on the couch, almost crushing Mr. Cinnamon Ball. He didn’t look offended by that — this cat would rather be crushed than leave Spencer’s side. Somehow, he loved him more than the hand that fed him.

Sitting so close to your friend, your head nearly touched his shoulder, but neither of you minded.You had known each other for four years. You met regularly to watch movies or just to chat, and more than once, you had fallen asleep with your head resting on his arm, that was way more comfortable than any pillow. The rest of your team sometimes joked about your close relationship, but in your opinion, it was only because you were almost the same age! And maybe a bit because you felt the most comfortable in his presence, you understood each other the best, and he made you laugh the most…

For God's sake, why did you start thinking about that at that moment? When you were so close to each other and his gentle scent was slowly enveloping you...

Okay, you’ve thought of him as more than just a friend once or twice. Like that time he stayed over at your place, and you didn’t want him to sleep on the uncomfortable couch, so you shared your bed. You felt so good waking up next to him and regretted that it was just a one-time experience…

You realized he must have said something to you, but you were too lost in thought to hear it.

Instead of repeating himself, Reid pushed the laptop closer to you. On the screen was a website featuring an auction for….the original red leather jacket from Fight Club! You almost screamed. If you had won her over, the victory would have to be yours...

Your enthusiasm faded like a blown-out candle when you saw the final bid amount.

“What the fuck? That's more than the total of our annual salaries…”

"Actually, it’s twenty thousand less than..."

You both fell silent in disappointment. Then, a very silly idea came to your mind.

“Reid” you started slowly.

“"Oh no, I know this tone. You're either about to say something extremely absurd or something inappropriate, and I don’t know which one scares me more."

"But listen. We'll wait for the auction to end and for someone to buy that jacket. Then we’ll talk to Garcia and convince her to track down the buyer. We'll go, knock on the door, and when they open it..."

"We’ll politely ask to borrow it?"

"No, sweet boy, we’ll show our badges and say the auction was illegal, and we need to confiscate the jacket."

Spencer burst out laughing.

"Your ideas are brilliant. But how are you going to explain this to Hotch afterward?"

“He won’t find out”

“He find out”

“Okay, you’re right. He’ll probably find out”

A silence full of smiles fell between you.

Spencer closed the auction page and started browsing something else when you let out a laugh at your own thoughts.

“Okay, I have another idea that won’t cost either of us our jobs,” you said, capturing his attention. He tore his gaze away from the laptop and focused completely on you and your trembling lips, which hinted that you weren’t going to say anything serious “The beginning of the plan sounds the same but instead of showing our badges, you’ll give him a blowjob… “

“Fuck you!” he shouted, unable to stop himself from laughing. At the sight of his expression, a wave of laughter hit you so hard that Mr. Cinnamon Roll jumped off the couch and ran away from his sick owner. “I’m not giving any random guy a blowjob in exchange for a jacket. In exchange for the original diaries of Einstein, well, I wouldn’t say no; I would think about it, but not for a jacket!”

“But it’s the jacket from Fight Club, Spence. Brad Pitt was wearing it” you encouraged him, amused. "Besides, how do you know some guy will buy it? It could be a woman.”

Spencer rolled his eyes and was ready to continue arguing on the topic, but suddenly it seemed as if he changed his mind. His expression grew more serious.

"Actually, it doesn't change much, but that's not the point. What worries me more is that I've lost my touch. Maybe you'd want to replace me in this? The buyer might not be satisfied."

He said it in a tone as if he were talking about a truly serious, real transaction, which only amused you even more. Also pretending to be serious, you patted him on the shoulder.

“Don't worry, Spence. I'm sure you'll manage just fine.'"

"Really? What makes you think that?"

You considered making a joke, but then you realized what you were talking about while studying him. After a whole day at work, he looked... surprisingly... attractive? With slightly tousled hair and two buttons of his shirt undone…

"‘Nothing,” you replied. For the first time in his presence, you felt slightly embarrassed to continue the topic. Your closeness on the couch didn’t help at all, and you regretted scaring off Mr. Cinnamon.

“No, something makes you think that”

The tension between you escalated to the point where you weren't sure if he was still joking. You realized that in this silence, every change in your breathing would be audible, so you tried to control it.

What makes you think that? Spencer just seemed that way. I mean, you often talked about your relationships, and you assumed that his potential partner would lack nothing.

Embarrassed, you wanted to say something when he suddenly burst out laughing.

"Jesus, we were talking about blowing somebody for a jacket. Why did you get so scared?

You hit him on the arm so hard that he let out a groan.

"I didn't get scared! You just suddenly became so weird that I didn't know if you were joking or what”

"‘Of course I was joking. Why would I ask you that seriously?” he asked, and you noticed that he also carried a hint of embarrassment.

"I have no idea. Maybe you wanted to know my opinion or something” You desperately tried to return to the atmosphere that had existed between you just a moment ago, one that felt more friendly.

Spencer swallowed hard. It was clear he also preferred to drop the topic.

“I don’t know why you would have any opinion on that, but let’s get back to what we were talking about before you switched into perverted weirdo mode...’"

After his words, you had to hide your face in the sleeve of his shirt, unable to contain your laughter. He seemed surprised by your reaction.

“ What? What did I say this time?”

“Perverted weirdo” you blurted it out, almost choking on your words.” You called me a perverted weirdo…”

“Well, considering your recent ambiguous comments…”

“I'm going to tell Emily about this. Hey girl, you know how Spencer called me last time? A perverted weirdo…Oh no, I got your shirt dirty with my makeup… “

Spencer looked at the sleeve of his shirt and shrugged, saying, "It's nothing."

"No," you shook your head, trying to rub the stain off his shirt with your fingers, but of course it didn’t work. "I spilled coffee on your pants last time. Take it off; I'll wash it today."

"It's late; you’re not going to deal with washing my shirt right now. Let's get back to looking for our costumes."

You agreed and once again found comfort leaning on his shoulder. He still held the laptop on his lap, and whenever you wanted to type on the keyboard, you had to rest your elbows on his body, on the lower part of his stomach. Why were you even paying attention to that? You shaked your head and leaned over the laptop when you found the perfect shoes for Marla's costume.

In that position, you couldn't see Spencer, but you felt he was almost completely still. After a moment, however, he slowly reached for your hair, gently brushing it with his fingers as if checking its texture.

"We don't need to buy you a wig, right? Your hair will do just fine."

You murmured in agreement as he continued to play with your hair, probably unaware of how much he was distracting you. You had been staring at the picture of the shoes for five minutes and couldn’t remember what you wanted to check. Ah, the size!

"Reid, we have a problem," you said. "They don't have my size. I checked to see if a larger size would be available, since I could stuff them somehow, but the smallest is a 10!"

"Your shoe size is 7; in such large ones, you'll either look ridiculous or kill yourself before even arriving to the party…Do they have to be those specific ones? Maybe you can find some others..."

"They have to be those! They're identical to the ones Helena Bonham Carter wore."

Spencer sighed thoughtfully. His breath tickled the back of your head, which distracted you slightly once again. Anyway, this one time, you came up with a solution faster than his brilliant mind…

You turned your head toward him — after he stroked your hair you were very, very close to each other. The flame from the candle on the table reflected in his eyes, filling the area with the scent of cinnamon that had lingered for a while. When your face unexpectedly came just in front of him, he looked at you with a surprise and a gaze that he had never given you before. It was as if he were trying to stop himself from doing something, while at the same time, a voice in his ear incessantly urged him to go ahead.

You looked away to avoid doing something foolish. You could feel warmth on your neck and cheeks. Finally, you remembered what you wanted to ask.

"Spence, what’s your shoe size?"

5 years ago

It all started when the rest of your team found out about Penelope and Morgan's Halloween tradition. Every year, the two of them held a movie marathon of the scariest films they could find, watching them until sunrise.

"Why didn’t you invite any of us? I love watching horror movies with friends!" Prentiss exclaimed indignantly.

You were on board a private jet. You had been working with this team for only a few days — in fact, this was your first trip with them to work in the field.

The prospect of solving the case had you feeling stressed, and you were also wondering if you would find common ground with your team. You lagged slightly behind, pretending to read a book while actually listening to all the conversations around you. You wanted to get to know everyone better. Someone sat down beside you, leaning in to read the title of your book.

"Rebecca. Have you gotten to the part where it turns out Maxim killed his wife?"

You looked shocked at the second youngest member of the team. You had a serious problem with remembering names, so you only knew his last name. Reid was a tall man with longer hair, dressed in a vest with a shirt peeking out from underneath. Until now, you hadn't formed much of an opinion about him, but that was about to change — he had just spoiled the ending of the book for you.

“No, I haven’t gotten to this part! “

An older man in a black suit chuckled quietly to himself.

"Guys, listen up," said the brunette with bangs, wearing a tight red shirt. "It just came out that Morgan and Penelope have their own secret Halloween tradition."

The woman mentioned was present only on the laptop screen. She was working with you remotely and seemed really nice to you.

"Sweetheart, we weren't trying to hide anything from you; it just happened that we didn’t mention it..."

"That’s exactly what hiding is," Reid added, giving you an apologetic look for spoiling the book.

"What do you say to all of us getting together this Halloween? The whole team?" asked a muscular man dressed in gray, sitting across from Prentiss with his elbow casually resting on the table. "With a special invitation for you, newbie."

Saying this, he winked at you. You were surprised, but still smiled. Are there better circumstances for getting to know your team than a party? Everyone around you approached this idea.

a week later

You stared at your phone in fear after just ending the call. JJ said something came up and she wouldn’t be able to make it to the party. You knew her best out of the whole team and had hoped that with her there, you would feel more at ease. Most importantly, you were supposed to wear matching outfits. You realized your breath had quickened slightly. You weren't sure if anyone else besides you planned to dress up. After all, they were mostly older than you — maybe they weren't into that anymore?

Back in high school, you were the only one who showed up in costume, and you felt embarrassed the whole evening walking around in a zombie farmer outfit while all the other girls wore mini skirts and beautiful, subtle makeup. You didn’t want to go through that again, but making this costume had taken you a lot of time. Recently, you and JJ had been enchanted by the animated movie Corpse Bride, and you planned to dress up as the title character and her rival, Victoria. Since you loved dressing up for Halloween, you chose the more challenging costume. You bought a cheap white dress that you styled to look more tattered. You applied pale blue makeup and heavily contoured your cheekbones. You even managed to get a veil.

In fifteen minutes, you were supposed to be at Morgan's house. If you removed the makeup, you wouldn’t have time to do anything else. You contemplated what to do. Ultimately, you decided it would be a shame to waste your hard work, and soon you found yourself in the car, heading to the address you were given. As you parked, you felt stress start to take control of you.

You needed to sit in silence for a moment, so you turned off the engine and stared at the empty sidewalk in front of you. Morgan lived in a large house in a quiet neighborhood, where all the homes were spaced far enough apart to host small gatherings without bothering anyone.

Suddenly, someone appeared by the driver's window. You screamed in surprise, your thoughts racing back to all the cases when women were killed in their own cars.

You quickly realized that it wasn't another UNSUB. That one wouldn’t have screamed alongside you.

“Damn it, Reid, you scared me!”

“You scared me too” he managed to say, placing a hand on his chest. He glanced toward the house. "Weird that Morgan hasn't come out to help yet."

“Maybe the music is too loud and he didn’t hear. There are quite a few cars. Did they invite that many people?” you wondered as you got out of the car.

Reid glanced at your costume. He wasn’t dressed up at all, just wearing a plain dark gray blazer and a shirt.

"Is that some fashion trend, or are you dressed as a zombie bride?"

“Neither, actually,” you replied, feeling stressed about being the only one in costume. “It’s from the cartoon Corpse Bride.”

“I haven’t seen it,” he admitted as you both headed toward the entrance of the house.

“It’s a great animation,” you recommended. “You should check it out. Although, from what I’ve noticed, you prefer reading more.”

“Not entirely. I like movies too, but I rarely choose cartoons,” he said, ringing the doorbell.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” you replied.

A very short girl you'd never seen before opened the door. She seemed slightly tipsy, confirming your suspicions that people from outside the team had also been invited.

"Oh, you dressed up! How cute!" she said, delighted to see you both, even though she didn’t know you. "Wait, I think I even know who you are. Emily and Victor from Corpse Bride?"

She pointed at the two of you, at your dress and his gray blazer. You exchanged glances, realizing she must have mistaken his usual clothes for a costume.

"No, we’re not…" Reid began to explain.

"Actually, I was supposed to match costumes with JJ…"

But she wasn’t listening. She let you in and shouted through the whole house,

"Look at their matching outfits!"

Everyone gathered around to see you, and you endured the whistles and applause with growing embarrassment.

Penelope appeared right beside you, placing her hands on your shoulders and inspecting your makeup closely. "Oh, sweetheart, you really went all out. This must have taken you ages."

"Which is more than I can say for you," joked Prentiss, holding a beer bottle and pointing it at Reid. "You decided to keep it a secret for a better effect, I assume?"

Reid tried once more to explain that it wasn’t intentional, but you stopped him with a nudge. He looked at you, puzzled.

"Let’s go get a drink," you suggested.

Not waiting for a response, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him along.

"I’m not going to be the only one in costume, so you’re going to stick with me and pretend we planned this all along."

He let out a surprised laugh, thinking you were joking at first.

"Wait, seriously? So… I’m Victor now?"

"Yes, you’re Victor, and you accidentally proposed to me. By the way, I’m dead."

"Okay," he blinked, processing the information. "I definitely need to watch that movie."

You spent almost the entire evening sticking close to each other. Without you by his side, Spencer looked like he wasn’t wearing a costume at all. And without Spencer next to you, you felt a bit awkward.

A few hours later, the two of you were sitting alone in the kitchen, drinking non-alcoholic cocktails and talking about… psychology. Not exactly a party topic, but somehow that’s where your conversation about favorite sodas had ended up.

“Next year, we have to do this again. I mean, plan a costume together. On purpose this time."

Spencer nodded.

"I think I even have an idea."

And that was how your tradition began.

now

He said Halloween is for kids.

Starting from the beginning, everyone always asks how you met Travis. Well, your story has some potential for a romantic comedy — if only you were a bit more attractive and funnier to make it more watchable on screen. And maybe if there were some breathtaking plot twist. But real life has little in common with a romantic comedy, and you didn’t meet under any crazy circumstances. You only had potential. It happened during your rehabilitation.

Perhaps we need to go back a bit further. Six months ago, Emily passed away, and you weren’t even there for the funeral because, in the rescue attempt to free her from Doyle’s hands, you were shot. Seriously wounded. You spent two weeks in a coma. That might not seem like a long time, but when you woke up, it felt like years had passed. Everyone around you seemed so distant, changed, almost as if you’d suddenly appeared in an entirely different reality.

The following weeks were even more blurred, like rain hitting fiercely against the window with such frequency that the droplets slowly merged into a single cohesive stream. You weren't accepting visitors while in the hospital; something was wrong with you. Perhaps it was due to the grief and shock from Emily's passing, along with the trauma. You didn't want to return to that job; you were too afraid of the risks. Of dying yourself or losing someone from your team and having to relive it all over again. Fortunately, you quickly received an offer for a transfer. An office job, terribly boring, but there was something in that monotony that filled you with a sense of safety. You hated it, but you were afraid to engage in anything else.

Before you took the job, you had to go through rehabilitation. It was led by Travis, eleven years older than you, which stunned your older brother when you introduced them. “You’re dating a guy older than me?” he asked, shocked. They didn’t hit it off, but you didn’t worry too much about that. Everything in your life had changed, and being in a relationship with an older, more mature guy made you feel more stable. And since so many things had changed, why not go all in? You moved in with him. Just as you were starting to climb out of the pit, another tragedy struck. Mr. Cinnamon Roll was diagnosed with stomach cancer and passed away despite treatment.

Since that moment, you almost stopped talking to your old team. You still loved them — they were like family to you, but whenever faced with life's struggles, you felt that burning need for isolation. On the day Mr. Cinnamon Roll died, you received a message from Spencer, asking how you were doing and suggesting a meeting. You stared at your phone for hours, and ultimately replied to him only the next morning with a brief, "Sorry, I didn't notice you wrote." He responded just as briefly. He was also suffering due to the circumstances and probably didn't have the energy to chase after his friend who openly refused to give him any attention.

You pushed him away because you weren’t ready to confront what you were feeling. Something had happened between you during that Halloween party, shortly before Emily's death. After that, you acted as if nothing had occurred, but both of you knew that you needed to talk about what to do with your relationship. But before you had the chance, there was Doyle, your accident, then Travis, and it seemed that everything that had ever been between you was lost. A new agent, Ashley, joined the BAU. You knew her — you were around the same age, and sometimes you caught yourself wondering if something might blossom between her and Reid.

You thought that if you accepted the loss of your previous life, it would be easier to move on. It was the opposite. Day by day, you felt more and more depressed, empty inside. This morning, you went into a café to buy coffee. While waiting for your order, you looked at the tiny pumpkins on the counter and realized it was Halloween—the holiday you used to love so much. This moved you, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a spark of life within you. You felt like you wanted to do something. Dress up as a character from a cheap horror movie, have a few drinks. Maybe even go trick-or-treating, hiding behind a mask like kids do. You did that with Spencer two years ago, but no one wanted to give that tall guy any candy.

You shared this idea with Travis.

And he said that Halloween is for kids.

a year ago

“How the fuck I’m suppose to walk in these….”

As soon as you saw him in a black dress that reached mid-thigh (it should have been longer, but you bought it when you still assumed you would be the one wearing it), a short fur coat of the same color, and sunglasses, you nearly choked on your laughter. And when he added black heeled ankle boots and started cursing their practicality, you fell onto the couch, unable to stand on your legs any longer.

Mr. Cinnamon Roll watched his antics with curiosity.

“Run away, little one,” Spencer advised him. “Those heels are so sharp I might accidentally kill you.”

“Don’t exaggerate. I wear shoes with higher heels every day.”

“Your spine will thank you for it in ten years.”

“Alright, mom.”

The deadly shoes landed on the floor. You were planning to leave in an hour and a half, once you finished perfecting your costumes. Until then, Spencer had no intention of risking his life by parading around in them. He lay down on the couch next to you, the dress ungracefully riding up.

“Now it’s your turn to change,” he said, pointing to the Tyler Durden costume lying on the table. “And mine to laugh.”

“First, I wanted to do makeup.”

“Is that necessary?”

“Are you kidding? What kind of Marla Singer would it be without a bold smokey eye?”

“Fine by you,” he muttered, looking at the watch on his wrist. “One hour and thirty-three minutes. Will we make it?”

“Relax. Remember, for a better impression, we need to be a little late.”

You disappeared for a moment into your bathroom, only to return with a makeup bag in hand. You had bought a new eyeshadow palette specifically for this occasion. Tilting your head to the side, you looked at your friend, wondering in which position you would be most comfortable working on him.

“Okay, lean against the couch,” you instructed, feeling like a professional makeup artist. “And don’t look at me like I’m a mad scientist trying to perform some dangerous operation on you.”

“From my perspective, that’s exactly what it looks like. A mad scientist and a dangerous operation. Just don’t accidentally poke me in the eye.”

“God, Reid, I’m not going to do this with a knife…”

You stood in front of the couch, facing him. Following your instruction, he rested his head, but as soon as you tried to apply the first product on his eyelid, you felt that you weren’t doing it precisely. You sighed.

“It’s uncomfortable for me to work this way. I have a better idea. Lie down.”

Reid looked at you with raised eyebrows but obediently lay down on the couch. You sat on a free spot next to him, leaning over his face. You were glad he closed his eyes. It would be awkward to be this close and still have to endure his sharp gaze. Your hair brushed against his neck. A gentle smile appeared on his face as soon as the brush touched his skin.

“This is quite nice,” he said.

You didn’t respond, focused on turning him into a doppelgänger for Marla Singer. You would sooner die of embarrassment than admit it out loud, but you deliberately prolonged the entire process. You felt as if you were working on a painting. Additionally, you enjoyed the awareness of having him beneath you, so defenseless and completely unaware, that you wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

You would simply press your lips together to see what would happen. There was a possibility he would push you away, but even considering that, you were ready to do it. You didn’t even try to push those thoughts away. They had completely dominated your mind, and you were just observing them from the sidelines, wondering where they came from. Throughout your years of friendship, you had never experienced them. Or rather, you had experienced them so rarely that you didn’t consider them significant. After all, everyone sometimes feels like kissing their friend. The problem was that for quite some time, the only thing you had been thinking about was his lips on yours.

Spencer opened one eye. You felt as if he had caught you doing something wrong.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice slightly husky.

You brushed aside the one strand of his hair that had strayed onto his forehead.

“About one of my friends.”

“You look worried. Can I ask why thinking about this person makes you feel that way?”

You let out a quiet laugh. You wondered if he knew you were talking about him. He should have.

“I doubt you want to hear about it,” you replied evasively. However, after a moment, you broke down and added something more. “Do you ever feel like you want to do something stupid so badly that you feel like you're physically shaking, even though you know it’s wrong?”

He frowned slightly. You accidentally applied too much eyeshadow, licking the tip of your finger to wipe away the excess product from his skin.

“Can you give a specific example of such behavior?”

You shrugged.

“I don’t know. Kissing a friend, for example.”

He smiled gently.

“Well, in that case, yes. All the time.”

You exhaled through your nose, feeling a painful tightness in your chest. You didn’t know what was happening to you.

“Done,” you said, abruptly rising from the couch. “I need to change. We don’t have much time.”

“There’s still an hour and eighteen…”

You grabbed your costume from the table and hid in the bathroom, not hearing the end of his sentence.

one hour and eighteen minutes later

Usually, nighttime drives had a calming effect on you, but this time it was completely the opposite. You were in a small space with Spencer, with whom you had just had… let’s call it a complicated conversation. You felt every part of your body tense.

You hated yourself. You hated that you didn’t understand what you were feeling. You hated that you didn’t know what you wanted. You felt like banging your head against the steering wheel. Maybe the sound of the horn would bring you back to your senses.

Reid just stayed silent, inscrutable.

“I’m afraid we’ll be right on time,” he said after clearing his throat. “And you wanted to be a little late.”

“So what should I do now, drive around the city for the next ten minutes?” you asked, slightly irritably.

He shrugged stiffly.

“Or stop and wait. It’s a much more environmentally friendly option.”

In the end, you pulled up outside Morgan’s house, where the annual Halloween party was set to take place for the fifth year in a row. You sighed with nostalgia and turned off the engine. You might have been in the middle of an emotional crisis, but you still intended to win that contest. And that meant waiting out those ten minutes.

You adjusted the sleeves of your red leather jacket.

“Remember when we dressed up as Harry and Voldemort?” you asked suddenly. That had been your first intentional costume pairing.

Spencer let out a short laugh.

“For the next two days, I couldn’t wash off all that white paint,” he muttered, reaching into the black purse you had lent him. Spencer had been outraged that mini dresses had no pockets, leaving him with nowhere to keep his things. You frowned when you noticed he had taken out his wallet. From it, he pulled out a photo taken on that memorable day, showing the two of you standing in front of the fireplace at Morgan’s cabin. You had your arms around each other, Voldemort and Harry Potter.

“You carry our photo in your wallet?” you asked, touched, admiring the picture with delight.

Slightly embarrassed, he nodded.

“And not just ours,” he reached into his wallet again, this time pulling out a photo of Mr. Cinnamon Roll curled up on your lap. You leaned closer to Spencer to get a better look, almost forgetting about your earlier conversation.

You extended your hand, but instead of taking the photo, you just grabbed his hand. He squeezed it tightly and briefly kissed the back of it.

“It’s been ten minutes,” he announced, letting go of your hand. “We can go inside now…”

He trailed off as you suddenly grabbed a piece of his fur and pulled him as close as possible. You felt as if someone stronger had taken control of your body and finally did what you had wanted to do for a long time. You were kissing him.

At first, he froze as if spellbound, completely surrendering to the pressure of your lips. You pulled back a little, unsure if you should continue.

“Why did you stop?” he asked softly.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked it.”

He laughed right into your mouth and resumed the kiss in a hungry way.

“I wanted to do it earlier,” you admitted after a moment. His eyes were shining, and yours probably were too. “When I was putting on your makeup. You had your eyes closed, and it was all I could think about.”

His hand rested on your neck, his thumb gently drawing circles on your sensitive skin. You had your arms around his neck, entwined like strands of hair in a braid.

“Good thing you didn’t,” he said. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “I’d venture to guess we wouldn’t have even made it to this party.”

“Don’t get too bold with your assumptions. I wouldn’t let such good costumes go to waste…”

He kissed you one more time, pulling you close by the chin. Okay, he was right. If you’d done this earlier, you’d probably still be at your apartment, entirely wrapped up in each other. In fact, you’d lost all interest in going to that part

You spent a good few minutes smiling at each other, foreheads touching. You felt the need to talk to him — to make sure this wasn’t just a release of the tension that had been building between you recently, but something more. Before you knew it, though, you were walking arm-in-arm toward Morgan’s house.

“This year, you’ve outdone yourselves,” he commented as he finally came out of his shock at seeing Spencer in heels. He, too, was in costume. For the past four years, it was almost impossible to find anyone there without one. You could say you were the ones who started the trend.

Without letting go of his hand, you encouraged him to spin around in a circle. All evening, you wondered if people noticed that something had changed between you or if they just assumed it was all part of the act. His hand almost never leaving your waist, your conversations with faces close together, the prolonged disappearance in the bathroom under the pretense of fixing his makeup.

“Have you thought about what we’ll dress up as next year?” he asked, pinning you against the upstairs wall, his hand slipped under the fabric of your loose shirt.

You looked into his eyes thoughtfully.

“I liked the idea of Mia and Vincent from Pulp Fiction.”

“Mia and Vincent. White shirts and fake blood. Don’t you think it’s a bit too simple? We should raise the bar each year.”

You rolled your eyes.

“So, what is your suggestion?”

now

You lay in bed next to the sleeping Travis, staring at his bare back.

Every day, he started with a run around six in the morning, so he didn’t let you drag him anywhere in the evening, despite it being Friday. You tried to fall asleep, but you knew it was useless. You’d always been a night owl. Besides, it was Halloween—your favorite holiday, and for the first time in years, you were spending it with your head on the pillow at 10 p.m.

You sighed and quietly, so as not to wake him, went to the living room to watch some show on TV and maybe have some ice cream. Sitting on the couch, you constantly felt the urge to reach out and pet Mr. Cinnamon Roll, who used to keep watch by your side. Each time, it ended with you touching the cold leather of the couch instead. You buried your face in your hands, stretching the skin on your cheeks.

You couldn’t live in this emptiness any longer.

It happened so suddenly. One moment, you were curled up on the couch, and the next, you were slipping back into the bedroom to grab one of Travis’s plain white shirts from the closet. Just regular black jeans. The only thing missing was fake blood, but you decided you’d just be a more polite version of Mia.

Your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest as you drove. Doubts crept in, and the absurdity of your behavior caught up with you. It was highly likely that your previous team had stopped organizing those events due to circumstances. And even if they were still happening, why would you feel invited? You had limited your contact with them, almost cutting it off in recent months.

Your breath was painful as you pressed your hand against your side, where a scar from a gunshot wound marked your skin. The red light of the traffic signal turned into the flashing lights of an ambulance. You were inside, bleeding, the whole world blurring around you.

You tried to calm yourself so as not to accidentally cause an accident. However, that tragic feeling didn’t leave you even when you found yourself there again. For the fifth year in a row, on Halloween night, at Morgan’s doorstep.

Derek opened the door for you, wearing a plain t-shirt. No music was coming from inside, and no cars were gathering around. He blinked in surprise at the sight of you.

You greeted him sadly, ready to throw out some excuse, though none came to mind. You had shown up unannounced, unwelcome, when he was probably spending the evening at home working or resting. A flush of embarrassment covered your cheeks.

Before either of you could say anything more, Penelope appeared behind him. She wore a headband adorned with little pumpkin decorations.

“Morgan, we have a serious problem with picking a movie because Hotch…”

She stopped, stunned by your presence. But a moment later, she shouted your name and swept you into her embrace.

“Oh, why didn’t anyone tell me you were coming!”

Over her shoulder, you could see Derek’s gentle smile.

“We went back to basics, and instead of throwing a party, we’re just watching movies,” he explained, eyeing you closely. “But costumes are always welcome. You’re not even the only one who thought to dress up.”

Both of them pulled you into the living room, where the rest of the team was arguing about which movie to watch. As all eyes turned to you, you felt like someone had forcefully shoved you onto a stage and blinded you with a spotlight aimed directly at you. Lost, you didn’t know what to say.

Then your gaze landed on that one person sitting alone in an armchair. Dressed in an identical white shirt and a black blazer draped over the arm of the chair.

You managed to smile at your Vincent.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds

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pencil-n-pen · 13 days ago

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hii! i hope you are doing well. i love your overworked series so much. it's very relatable to me on what the circumstances the reader is in and all i do eat the series all up(munch munch) how about like a study date for them? that would be cute

Hello honey !! Thank you so much for this request, I was so excited to write it <3 Hope you enjoy!

STUDY OR DATE

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄ ౨ৎ ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠄⠂

summary: you ask Leon to go on a study date with you at a coffee shop. Things don’t go as planned, but work out just fine in the end.

cw: i think this qualifies as a drabble not a oneshot it’s short :( but sweet :) sorry some angst slipped in there, one of Leon’s ex friends says some kind of mean things about you but Leon comes to your defense, honestly that’s it this is pretty fluffy

a/n: i just know leon absolutley slams those frou frou coffee drinks. i say this as a frou frou coffee drink enjoyer

no the Baby I'm Yours reference was not intentional

masterlist | previous (not actually a SERIES series, just takes place in the same universe)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It was you who proposed the idea of a study date.

"I think it might be nice," You'd said, staring at your shoes and shuffling in place as people file out of the last class of your day- the one you share with Leon. "I usually study by myself, but I think it would be good to... get out of my room, for a bit. Um. And then we could study together?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

This is one of his current favorite sentences. "Training you to stand your ground, princess. Nothing bad is gonna happen when you do."

You squeeze the strap of your backpack. "Telling...? But also asking, because I don't know if you're free."

"Even if I did have plans I would cancel them. Where were thinking of going?"

A burst of heat rises to your face. "That cafe? Near the east side of campus?"

He leans down, giving you a quick peck on the nose. "I think that's a great idea."

The walk to the cozy cafe isn't too long, but it is cold. You shamelessly use the winter chill as an excuse to cuddle up to Leon.

"As if you need one," He mumbles, squeezing you close to him.

When you arrive to the shop, the bell dinging signifying your entrance, Leon tugs at the backpack on your shoulder.

"Gimme that. I'll snag us a table that has outlets. Order something for me?"

You don’t have to look to know the hand in front of you has his credit card in it. And you know better than to refuse. He likes spending money on you, for whatever reason. You’re not complaining, really, it just eats at you a little bit. Just a little.

But it’s also really, really, really sweet. The kindness tends to override the guilt, in his case.

For yourself, you order exactly what you want- Leon has a second sense for when you order something that's for the sake of preserving money rather than what you actually want. You'd asked him once where his seemingly never-ending supply of money came from, but he'd just kissed you on the forehead and told you not to worry about it. You kind of still worry about it, but never enough for him to notice.

For Leon, you order exactly what he wants but will never admit to liking- an iced caramel macchiato. The way coffee shops like Starbucks make them, not the traditional way. More milk and sugar than coffee. It's funny watching him slug his way through black coffee with a splash of milk when you know for a fact the milky, sugary coffee drinks never last longer than about five minutes when they're in front of him.

The cafe isn't that crowded, so it doesn't take long for your drinks to be ready. You take them from the bar with a thanks, then slide into the table Leon snagged for you.

His eyes catch on the drink.

"What is that?"

"An iced caramel macchiato."

"And why, exactly, did you order that for me?"

"Because you like them."

"No I-"

"Don't even pretend."

He takes the drink with a grumble, but reaches across the table and squeezes your hand once, a quiet thank you.

You take a sip of your own drink, then take your supplies out of your backpack and get to work.

You work fairly quietly, Leon occasionally sliding random snacks he, apparently, just keeps with him across the table to you. At one point, he gets up and returns with a plate that has a few of the pastries you were eyeing earlier on it. How he even knew exactly which ones you wanted is a mystery to you.

An hour or so after he gets the pastries, the bell dings, signifying someone's entrance.

"No way! Leon, is that you?"

Leon's face twists into something sour and angry, and a small stab of apprehension slices through your chest as the voice is accompanied by approaching feet.

"Josh," Leon says evenly, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. "Haven't seen you in awhile. On purpose."

You turn, eyeing the man that's standing behind you, a few other guys standing a little ways behind him, all leering for a glance.

The Josh in question just laughs. "Oh, whatever Leon," His gaze catches on your face and his eyes widen.

"No way. Are you seriously here with the pretentious--"

"You mean my girlfriend?" Leon leans forward in his seat, his jaw set and his fists clenched where they rest on the table. "Be very careful about your next words."

Girlfriend?

Josh blinks. "I meant nothing by it, man. I'm just surprised to see you here with her, is all."

Leon looks absolutely murderous. "And why would that be?"

"Just because, you know. We always talked about how annoying her attitude was. And that rivalry thing you guys had."

"I remember ditching you guys when you started ragging on her, yeah. Fuck off, Josh."

Josh raises his hands. "Jeez, okay man. I was just surprised. You're seriously choosing that girl over us?"

"This woman, yes. We were never friends like that. Forgive me if I prefer being with someone who doesn't make me consider the legality of finishing a college degree in prison."

Josh seems upset by Leon's statement, but Leon holds his ground. He jerks his head towards the rest of the gaggle. "Go."

Josh scampers away, metaphorical tail between his legs.

Leon immediately turns to you, brows furrowed in concern and body un-tensing. "Are you okay? Did he upset you? Do I need to kill him?"

You blurt out the first and only thing you got from that entire exchange.

"I'm your girlfriend?"

He re-tenses.

"Do you... not want to be?"

"No!" You shout, a little too loudly, because Josh and his friends look back over, but the ensuing glare from you and Leon is enough for them to look away so quickly you think you hear Josh’s neck pop.

"No," you say quietly, "I um. I'd really like to be your girlfriend. I just. I didn't know what we were."

He gets that fond look in his eyes again. The one he gets before he says something sappy.

"Baby," He says, reaching across the table and grabbing your hand. "I"m yours. I mean that. I didn't formally ask you out because I figured you wanted to take things slow."

"I did. At first."

He smiles. "Then princess, my princess, may I please be your boyfriend?"

You can't help the giddy giggle the escapes your mouth. "Yes."

"Oh thank god," He says, wiping fake sweat off his brow. "It would've been awkward to have a heart attack and die in this cafe."

"That seems a bit extreme."

"Not really. Have you seen my girlfriend? Cardiac events are a normal reaction, I assure you."

You don't get much studying done for the rest of the day.

After that, there is a noticeable increase in study dates and date-dates. Leon is weirdly good at picking date spots and ideas.

The first time he introduces you as his girlfriend at a party, Ada shouts so loudly you think she might burst someone's eardrum. Your roommates all squeal with excitement when you tell them.

Chris, being Chris, says "Weren't you already dating?" when Leon tells him the news. That seems to be the general consensus.

You're on another study date right now, Leon's face doing that cute little scrunch thing when he's thinking about a math problem, and you set your pencil down just to stare at him.

He's your boyfriend.

You're his girlfriend.

He looks up at you, chewing on the end of his pencil. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"No," You say, a little breathless. "M' just looking at my boyfriend."

He grins, leaning across the table to give you a kiss, soft and slow.

You're normally not one for PDA.

But maybe you'll allow it. For your boyfriend.

ᯓ✦

#girlblogging #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon x reader #re4 leon #leon s kennedy #soft leon kennedy #leon kennedy fic #resident evil 4 #resident evil #resident evil 4 remake #re4 remake leon kennedy #re4 remake #re4

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yall-batman-fanfic · 2 months ago

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Damian’s Pets | Damian Wayne/Robin & OC!Magician [Fluff]

Synopsis: every time Damian comes home with a pet he must face a panel that proves how he’ll take care of the animal without making Alfred or anyone else do it. Everything seems to go well until he comes home with a demon.

There was a cow in the Batcave.

Normally Vivian would be used to the many things that Bruce would bring home to the cave from his previous cases, such as the giant penny or the dinosaur. An orphan he picked up in the alley.

A cow was the last thing on her list.

“This is probably some sort of hallucination caused by my three-day-straight all-nighters,” Vivian massaged the bridge of her nose.

“It's not,” said Batman.

“Can I ask how did you even get the cow in the Batmobile — I don't recall the tank having that much space capacity.”

“Don't,” Batman told her. “You know the drill.”

Vivian sighed and walked up to Damian with her husband at her side. When Damian saw the shadow of his parents, he stood his ground with his chest out and a determined look on his face. It made Tim and Dick snicker to see little Damian standing up to Vivian and Bruce as if he were to face a criminal.

“I named her Bat-Cow,” stated Damian.

“Oh, did you know?” Vivian crossed her arms over her chest. Turning to the cow she saw the black patch on the cow's eyes that resembled the domino masks of the Robins and the Bat symbol. “I gotta admit that's witty.”

Bruce cleared his throat to get her back on track.

“And where are you planning on keeping Bat-Cow?” Vivian asked Damian.

The boy smirked. “I thought you would ask that. If you recall in our many walks around the estate, there is a plot of land that has a barn.”

“Had a barn,” Bruce corrected him.

“I'll rebuild it. Fix it for Bat-Cow, besides Alfred the cat likes exploring that barn as well. They will be comfortable there. I think Titus will also like the barn,” said Damian. “You both have been mentioning how the manor has been getting more fur around — mind you, you too have a pet dog and cat. Ace and Echo can stay there as well if they wish.”

Before Bruce could have a say on that, Vivian said, “Echo and Ace are staying in our room. But a cow is not like a dog or a cat, Damian. It — you need to milk it.”

Tim and Dick burst out laughing. Both were already tearing up now and were holding onto each other for support. Damian only looked at them with confusion. Why are they laughing when a cow really needs to be milked or else its utters will swell?

“Grow up!” Vivian told them. “But looking past the innuendo that those two picked up… and I'm glad that you didn't. Who's going to milk — ” Tim and Dick laughed loudly. “ — you two, stop it or get out. Harvest, does that make sense?” She asked Bruce.

“For now,” said Bruce.

“Fine, who's going to do all of that, the harvesting, the cleaning up, the feed — and don't you dare say Alfred.”

“I will,” said Damian.

“Do you even know how?”

Dick, still laughing, said, “I'm sure he's got some practice, Viv.”

“He's ten!”

Dick shrugged.

“I'll ask Jon for help!”

Dick and Tim burst out laughing again and were forced to march up stairs by Bruce as he saw Damian turning red from embarrassment, his rising anger, and confusion. Why were they laughing so much?!

“Man, Jason is missing out!” Tim said as he and Dick went up stairs.

“We'll tell him when he gets home with Roy,” said Dick.

Silence came to the cave with the two gone, it gave Damian the courage on his defense and continued, “As I said. I'll ask Jon to teach me how to take care of Bat-Cow. For feeding, I'll work more chores to earn more money for Bat-Cow's necessities. I'll work harder. Just… please, let me keep her.”

How can she say no to that? Damian actually said please, and he was adamant in keeping the cow as his pet. Sighing, Vivian said, “Fine. We'll start working on the barn tomorrow.”

“What?” Bruce said.

“Yes! Thank you, Mom!” Damian wrapped his arms around Vivian.

“I thought we were on the same page,” Bruce whispered to her.

“Give him a break. Dick and Tim were pissing him off. Besides, I think it would be nice to get milk from the source directly. Don't you think?”

“You're not making any sense, right now.”

“I'll take Bat-Cow to my room for now,” Damian led the cow to the elevator.

Before the elevator could open, Vivian and Batman called out: “ABSOLUTELY NOT!”

~*~

“This is your fault,” Bruce told Tim and Dick who were muttering under their breath as they cleaned up the mess that Bat-Cow made in the Batcave. When they got up that morning, Alfred immediately gave them a brush and told them to head to the cave. There they were met by the stench of the cow's stool and a couple of large lumps for them to clean up.

“How is this our fault?” Dick asked Bruce.

“If you weren't laughing at Damian then you wouldn't be cleaning up cow shit in the cave before breakfast,” Bruce stated.

“He should be the one cleaning it,” Tim muttered.

“Vivian's orders. You were teasing your brother.”

Tim and Dick groaned and went back to work.

~*~

The next pet Damian brought home was a turkey. Actually, it wasn't even at home that he presented the turkey to her, it was at her place of work. Damian was coming home from school then, and he somehow found a turkey in need of a home. He, Bruce, and Alfred walked up to Gotham University with the turkey in a cage, and surprised Vivian at the courtyard of the campus with it.

“Here, seriously?” Vivian said to them.

“He was insistent,” said Bruce.

“Well?” Vivian asked Damian.

Beside her, Justin and Catherin looked at the odd scene of the family and watched, curious to what this was about.

“He was going to the slaughter house!” said Damian.

“You can't just take a turkey who is on its way to the slaughterhouse, Damian,” Vivian turned to Bruce. “Seriously, you can't deal with this on your own?”

“He said that you were the one he needed to convince,” Bruce shrugged.

“Oh, so Via's the strict parent, huh?” Justin teased her.

“Okay, let's hear it,” said Vivian. “Make it quick, I got a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Barn. I'll work more hours for chores and pay for the feed if I have to.”

“You won't be sleeping then.”

“I don't care. I've done all-nighters.”

“That's not okay, Damian,” Vivian sighed. “Why can't you just bring home a fish or something… Fine, but you have to promise that this is the last.”

Damian smiled. “Really?”

“Yes. Besides, fatten it up and we'll have the turkey for Thanksgiving covered.”

“Jerry is not going to be a Thanksgiving turkey!” Damian cried out.

“You already named him Jerry…” Vivian looked at her watch. “I need to go or I'll be late. You both,” she pointed at Bruce and Alfred. “Grow a pair.” She messed with Damian's hair as a goodbye and walked straight to her meeting.

~*~

“What the fuck — why is there a turkey in that place?” Jason slammed the door of the kitchen entrance.

“Master Jason, language!” Alfred chastised him.

Vivian, who was having her evening tea with Alfred, answered, “Damian's new pet.”

“It chased me across the estate! I was going to shoot it if I hadn't run out of bullets,” Jason slumped on the seat beside Vivian and stole her grilled cheese sandwich. “We going to cook that for Thanksgiving?”

“Jerry’s not food,” Vivian told him.

“What sick fuck names a turkey Jerry?”

“That sick fuck,” Vivian nodded at Damian's direction who entered the kitchen with Alfred the cat and Echo on his head. “Jerry chased Jason across the estate.”

Damian smirked. “I guess his training is working then.”

“You little shit!” Jason pointed at him.

~*~

There was a dragon-bat in the Batcave. But compared to the cow and the turkey, this one was a small one, so small that Damian held it in his hands. Still, it was a dragon-bat. Who knows how big it could get.

“You know what,” Vivian turned to Bruce. “You deal with this. I’ve had a long day, I’ve been feeling a little sick since this morning and I don’t want to deal with this dragon-bat. You two figure it out!”

Batman hummed and watched as his wife returned to the manor with the elevator, leaving him with Damian and the dragon-bat.

“No,” said Batman.

“That’s now how it works,” said Damian.

“No.”

“He’s all alone!”

“No.”

“Mom has a realm that we can put him in if ever Goliath gets big!”

“That’s not her realm. That’s her uncle’s!”

“Destruction wouldn’t mind!”

“I think he would, especially when there’s dragon-bat droppings there.”

Damian stood his ground and glared at his father.

~*~

Vivian was having a nice and peaceful morning when Destruction appeared before her in his flannel and jeans, and sword. The sudden appearance of the Endless surprised everyone at the table, especially the Robins who were just seeing him for the first time. But when Vivian didn’t seem fazed they didn’t engage at the intruder.

“Vivian, there’s a dragon-bat in my realm,” said Destruction.

“I know,” Vivian continued with her breakfast.

“That doesn’t explain why.”

“Ask them,” Vivian nodded at Bruce and Damian’s direction. “We can’t have airplanes and helicopters finding a dragon-bat in the estate. And he’ll outgrow his pen in the barn, and he might eat Bat-Cow and Jerry.”

“Vivian.”

“Goliath is trained, don’t worry about it.”

Destruction sighed and left, knowing it was a losing battle.

Damian smiled and said, “Thanks, Mom!”

“Goliath is the last.”

Damian huffed and returned to his meal.

Vivian turned to Bruce and said, “You can’t just say no, huh?”

“You never did,” Bruce muttered.

“I said no to the pig, the panther, and the lion, Bruce.”

Bruce sighed and went back to his meal. “I’ll work on it.”

#batman #batman x oc #dc fanfic #fanfic #batman fanfiction #batfam #damian wayne #batmom #batfam x reader

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wlntrsldler · 11 months ago

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poisoned mercury | now you got me

ix. now you got me by inhaler

series masterlist | previous | next

the happy little bubble you and luke made for yourselves inevitably bursted a few days after you made it official– though if you asked luke, you rejected his advances, which always earned an eye roll from you followed by a long kiss to his lips that had him silent for the next five minutes. you knew he was milking the hell out of you saying no to his question until he let you listen to the song, but you were his and he was yours regardless of the title.

you stared at yourself in the mirror, blushing as you ran your fingers down the marks on your neck. you added a turtleneck under your chb shirt, not having enough energy to cover up the marks on your neck with makeup, and you definitely didn’t have the energy to explain to people how you got them. thankfully, the weather cooperated with you today. it was unusually cold for the summer, a slight breeze entering your room from your opened window. as you continued to get ready for the day, your phone buzzed with a text from your dad.

‘hey kid, can you come to my office real quick?’

you hadn’t spoken to your dad in weeks, not since he stormed out of the cabin after finding out what started the fight with your teammate. this was the longest you’d gone without speaking to him. you texted a thumbs up and made your way out of your room.

luke was sitting on the coffee table in the middle of everyone, looking at you with wondering eyes, “where are you going?”

“my dad wants to talk.”

“do you want me to come with you?” luke got up from where he sat. you told him last night that you’d been avoiding your dad as much as possible, and he did the same with you. as much as you guys butted heads, luke knew that it was taking a toll on you. you shared that you were scared about what would become of your relationship with your dad. luke, being as close to his mom as you were with your dad, understood. he knew what it was like to feel like your biggest supporter was giving up on you. it wasn’t a feeling he’d wish on his worst enemy, and definitely not a feeling he’d ever wish on you.

“no, it’s fine,” you clenched your jaw, shaking your head.

luke’s shoulders slumped over as he stuttered in his actions to sit back down, “oh, okay–uh, let me know if you need anything.”

you nodded and waved a small goodbye before exiting the cabin. your heart was pounding the entire time you made your way to your dad’s office. a lot of things had been weighing on you this summer– your probation, a possible dent on your record, your estrangement from your parents, luke– and it was a lot to handle. camp half blood was supposed to keep you away from the problems that existed in your day-to-day life, but it seemed to follow you.

you entered your dad’s office to see him typing away on his laptop. his eyebrows raised when you walked in, motioning for you to shut the door. he closed his laptop and placed it in one of the drawers of his desk. he took a deep breath, “hey, kid.”

“hi, dad,” you replied, suddenly feeling like a little kid again. you sat on the usual chair in front of his desk and leaned back, “what’s up?”

“i, uh,” he cleared his throat, “i just wanted to say i’m sorry for how we left things. i shouldn’t have stormed out like that. i was just angry. but not at you, at myself for making you feel like you had to fight these battles for me.”

he leaned across his desk to hold your hands, “you’re my kid, y’know. my job is to protect you, not the other way around. so i apologize if i ever made you feel like you had to come to my defense.”

“and i’m sorry for being mia the last few weeks,” he chuckled, squeezing your hands, “i’ve been in contact with my lawyers and they’re working on making sure the charges against you don’t stick so i’ve been pretty busy with that.”

“you think it’ll get sorted out?” you asked.

“yeah, don’t worry about it. it’s finishing up and i think you might even be able to play this season,” your dad smiled. “but i have to deal with a pr crisis right now that sprung up on me this morning.”

your shoulders relaxed at your dad’s words. at least your probation was getting sorted out. that was one less thing to worry about. you tugged on the sleeves of your turtleneck as you got comfortable on your chair, “what’s the pr crisis?”

he sighed, pulling out his laptop, “something with the band.”

you hoped your dad didn’t notice the slight widening of your eyes. because you hadn’t been talking to your dad, he didn’t know about the recent developments between you and luke. you two didn’t show much pda outside of the cabin, scared that one of the campers would break their nda and post a picture of the two of you. neither of you were ready to tell the world about you two yet. it’s too soon. you didn’t even have the “what’s going to happen to us after summer?” conversation yet.

“what happened?”

“some pap pictures leaked. it’s of this new actress in hollywood and a guy leaving her hotel room. the press is reporting that the guy is luke. it looks a lot like him and you know the media– they run any story that’ll get them clicks even if it’s not fully fact-checked as long as they add the word ‘allegedly’ to the article,” he rolled his eyes, turning his computer to face you. “nobody knows where the pictures came from, so we don’t know if it’s actually luke or not, but i’ve been on the phone with may and their team all morning trying to do damage control. she’s telling the guys about the pictures right now.”

at first glance, your heart dropped to your stomach. the guy did look an awful lot like luke. the rational part of you knew that this was probably taken before the two of you met because you’ve seen him every day since and he was practically imprisoned at chb all summer, but then you thought of your impromptu trip to achilles’ arcade and it made you want to throw up. if luke could sneak away with you like that, it would’ve been easy for him to do the same when he was alone.

were the nights he didn’t spend in your bed because he was “writing” just an excuse to sneak off to meet up with the girl in the picture? she was gorgeous, after all. blonde, tall, the perfect new hollywood star. they’d make such a great power couple. the two rising stars in their respective industries, the perfect pair.

the boy’s face, who may or may not be luke, was covered by his hood, but you can clearly see that he was kissing the girl deeply, with his hand placed on the curve of her back. the next picture was them with their fingers laced together as she led him into the hotel, giggling at something he said. the guy had a similar build as luke and dressed the same way as he did when he was having a lazy day– sweatpants, hoodie, and converses.

bile made its way up your throat as you continued to scroll through the pictures. you looked at the time stamp of the photos and closed your eyes, wincing, when you saw that they were taken two days ago. luke didn’t sleep in your room two days ago, nor was he in the cabin. he showed up the next day saying that he was in the studio, trying to finish up the song so you would officially accept being his girlfriend.

you squinted at a close-up picture of the pair, zoning in on the guy's hand. you breathed out a sigh of relief, fingers immediately clutching the ring that rested on your index finger. you turned the laptop back to your dad, “that’s not luke.”

his eyebrows shot up, looking between you and his laptop screen, “how do you know?”

“look at his rings,” you pointed at the bands around the guy’s fingers, “luke doesn’t wear a ring on his ring finger anymore. and look, the guy has a ring there and it’s gold.”

“how are you so sure? what if he just decided to wear it that day?”

“trust me,” you waved off, “he’s particular about his jewelry. he stopped wearing one on his ring finger a while ago. and luke doesn’t wear gold jewelry.”

your dad narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously, shutting his laptop, “i didn’t realize you were that close to luke that you had his accessories memorized.”

“ah– well,” you cleared your throat, looking down at your feet. you felt caught. “s’your fault, really. you made us live together.”

“is there something you need to tell me, kid?”

you got up from your seat, quickly making your way to the door, “geez, dad, i didn’t realize the time! i promised clar that i’d help her with camp duties, so i gotta go. thanks for all your help on the probation and permanent record thing. you’re the best!”

you didn’t bother to turn around to see your dad’s reaction to your excuse. you knew that he could see right through you.

you dad called from behind you, his joking tone camouflaged by his “dad” voice, “tell castellan that if he does anything wrong, i’ll kill him and his career!”

“love you!”

your dad shook his head, biting back the smile on his face, “love you too, kid.”

as you were rushing back to your cabin, you ran smack dab into luke who was frantic, worry evident on his features. his eyes widened when he saw you and he placed his hands on your shoulders, steadying you so you didn’t fall at the impact.

“five star,” he sighed out, out of breath, “i don’t know if mr. d told you but those pictures aren’t me, i swear!”

you had two options– you could one, tell him that you knew it wasn’t him and put him out of his misery or two, you could pretend to not believe him and make him sweat. luke looked like he was about to get on his knees and beg you to believe him. you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a powerpoint presentation listing the reasons why it wasn’t him in those pictures.

you pursed your lips, “i saw the pictures luke.”

“and they weren’t me!” he said, exasperated. his eyebrows knitted in anxiety, as he chewed on the nail of his thumb, “you gotta believe me, babe. i don’t know who that guy is but i can promise you it’s not me.”

you tried not to swoon at the pet name that left his lips. “how do i know that? you weren’t home the night those pictures were taken.”

“i know it looks bad, but look,” he ran a hand through his curls. “i finished the song the boys wrote and you can go listen to it right now, but then that night, i got caught up with a song idea about you and i stayed up all night to write it. you can listen to the demo right now if you want. you can listen to all the demos you want if that gets you to believe me. i think the recordings have timestamps too, so you’ll see i was in there all nigh–”

“down, pretty boy,” you couldn’t keep it up any longer. luke looked like he was two seconds away from bursting into tears and as much as you wanted to hear him yap, you didn’t have it in your heart to drag it on. you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck. you pressed a soft kiss to his lips and he instantly relaxed at the feeling.

your lips moved in sync as his hands found your waist, pressing you closer to him. his tongue licked your bottom lip, asking for permission, which you gladly granted. it was the sound of clarisse and chris inside the cabin, tapping against the windows that pulled you and luke apart. you both turned to look at your friends who all had shit-eating grins on their faces.

travis and connor were behind the couple, shaking their heads, “get a fucking room, you heathens.”

luke flipped them off and pressed a softer, more innocent kiss on your lips before you spoke. “i knew it wasn’t you. just wanted to see you sweat a little bit.”

“that was mean,” he pouted, but he couldn’t fight off the smile on his face. he always seemed to smile after he kissed you. it made you want to kiss him again, starting a never-ending chain of kisses that would surely lead the two of you to be unproductive for the rest of the day. “i was so scared, five star, you have no idea. the fucker looked so much like me.”

you laughed, playing with the curls on the nape of his neck, “trust me, i know. my heart dropped to my ass when i first saw them, but i knew it wasn’t you.”

“how’d you know?”

“the rings,” you flushed, thinking about how crazy you must sound knowing these small details about him.

“shit, five star,” he whistled, surprised. there was a warmth in his chest that spread throughout the rest of his body at the idea of you paying attention to these things about him. “nothing can get past you, huh? i didn’t even notice that.”

“yeah, at least you know not to sneak around behind me because i’ll find out,” you teased, lacing your fingers together as you slowly made your way up the steps of the cabin. luke stood in his spot, pulling on your hand to get you to to turn around. you walked over to him, confused, “what’s up?”

“y’know i wouldn’t think of doing that, right?” he asked, voice suddenly serious. “i would never do that to you.”

your eyes softened as a wistful look appeared on your face. you kissed his cheeks, relishing in the feeling of luke wrapping his arms around your torso in a tight hug. you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, placing a feather-light kiss on his jugular, “yeah, yeah.”

“‘m serious,” he pulled away, holding your face in his hands. he was staring at you intently, making sure that you were hearing his words. you never gave him an indication that you didn’t trust him, but luke knew that it was better to tell you these things straight up if he wanted to have a real relationship with you. he knew it takes a toll on the people he dates (not that he’s had any relationships like what he has with you) to see these bullshit stories online. if he was in your position, he knew the reassurance would help. luke placed a kiss on your forehead, “i wouldn’t do anything to mess this up if i can help it, five star.”

you let out a forced laugh, awkwardly shifting in his grasp, “yeah, given that my dad controls your contract, i know you wouldn’t.”

luke frowned, “not because of that.”

“uh huh,” you said, feeling too vulnerable right now. you didn’t know how to handle this situation, so you coped with humor, “he likes you so don’t worry, your contract extension is practically in the bag.”

“y/n.”

you tensed at luke’s use of your real name. he never called you by your name. he always called you by the nickname he gave you when he first met you. five star. you knew luke wasn’t in the mood to joke around. “luke, it’s fine.”

“i don’t want to pick a fight,” he sighed, playing with the hem of your shirt, “but i just need to hear you say that you believe me when i say that. i wouldn’t cheat on you or do anything to make you feel like i ever would.”

your voice shook as you spoke, “what if you’re just saying that because it’s still summer and we see each other every day? what’s gonna happen when i’m back in school and you’re out in the world traveling and living your rockstar life?”

luke’s heart broke at your words. did you really think that he would forget about all of this once september rolled around? as if you didn’t consume his thoughts every day since he met you, as if he didn’t count down the minutes until he got to see you again when he was forced to be away from you because he had things to do, as if he didn’t have a sinking feeling in his stomach when you weren’t next to him. he was starting to think you didn’t understand just how deeply he felt about you even when you assured him that you did understand.

“i’m not gonna lie, long distance is gonna be hard,” he said, “but we can figure it out. i know it.”

“i never knew you were such an optimist, castellan.”

luke laughed at that. if only you knew how many times he psyched himself out of making a move on you because of his own pessimism. it only changed recently, when he finally decided to say fuck it and go for it. “for you? always. i’d be stupid not to be. you’re a good thing, five star.”

luke fucking castellan. you pressed your head into his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat against your face. he gave you a tight squeeze, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. he loved having you like this, all soft and cuddly with him like you didn’t want to let him go. he should be scared at how quickly he was falling for you, how attached he already felt.

you kissed his lips again, pulling away with a smile, “so babe huh?”

“babe, baby, sweetheart,” he mumbled, leaning over to kiss you again. “anythin’ you want.”

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