#is everyone connected to the doctor bad at dates?

[moreaugriffins]

Me: it's late in the night and im really tired. i should sleep

-as soon as my head hits the pillow-

My brain: Wasn't there a calendar in the background in The Green Death? If so, what does the calendar show? Would it add to the Unit Dating Controversy? we must go check now!

[poisonf0rest]

Kiss Shot

♱⋅── zayne x fem!reader

♱⋅── about: Zayne has curated a perfectly polished reputation. He’s a renowned surgeon, the youngest of his graduating class, has a plethora of research papers in his name, and is well-liked and respected amongst his peers. And he would throw it all away to have you like this again, whining and desperate as he fucks you over a billiard table. It’s not fair, really, how easily you manage to get Zayne riled up. Especially when you call him sir.

♱⋅── word count: 8.2K

♱⋅── warnings: mdni, smut, light bondage, teasing, semi-public sex, praise kink, pwp, dom!zayne, sir kink, pool & billiards, oh he has pretty hands, exclusive tutorial card

♱⋅── original ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55931518

Your negroni is fifty percent water by now.

The flock of past classmates, professors, and adorning fans has been relentless, swarming the bar where you and Zayne currently sit— or perhaps more accurately, swarming where the distinguished Dr. Zayne sits. 

You sigh under your breath, fussing with the cocktail dress slit against your thigh before taking another sip of your drink, the melted ice dulling the burn of the gin. It has only been an hour since you arrived, and yet you can already feel your social battery reach its limits, tired of going through the same motions for every other person who bothers to acknowledge your presence: a smile, what’s your name, are you a surgeon as well, what’s your connection to Zayne, no we’re not together.

It’s not that you haven’t met fascinating individuals— your first round of drinks was shared with two sisters, old classmates of Zayne’s who were now Linkon’s top OB/GYN doctors and genuinely the sweetest women you’ve talked to today. 

But everyone has limits. And with the relentless swarm sucking up to Zayne, it hardly gives you a moment of peace, let alone an opportunity to talk with your date for the evening.

Thinking about the stipulations of your relationship and what this night even means for the two of you sends your mind reeling further, and you finish the rest of your negroni in a shot, wincing. 

As if sensing your frustration, the doctor in question looks up from his conversation with a classmate. Zayne gives a knowing, apologetic smile before returning to his conversation, the gesture leaving you with a fluttering in your chest.

Calling the bartender over, you place another drink on the tab before tuning in to the conversation next to you as you hear the echo of laughter. 

“No, no, I’ve been lucky enough to have seen it myself!” An older man laughs again, his drink nearly sloshing over the rim as he smacks Zayne’s shoulder. You snort at the way he stiffens. “Our Dr. Zayne isn’t just a professional at work, you should see him play billiards. Let me tell you, he’s amazing at both the operating table and the pool table”

A deep sigh. “You drank too much…” 

“Nonsense!” The man pats Zayne again before recounting a story from their residency days to the crowd of onlookers.

You yourself are rather engrossed too, more than happy to learn more about your elusive doctor, especially these hidden talents he seems set on keeping from you. Zayne, on the other hand, is far from impressed. Brows furrowed, he turns from where he sits against the bar counter to scan your face. 

Leaning in closer, you inhale sharply at the feel of his cool breath against your ear. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” 

His thoughtfulness would be sweet if it weren’t for the way Zayne had whispered it, lips brushing against your sensitive skin as you shudder at the slow, deep cadence of his voice. 

Noticing your hesitation, Zayne’s hand comes up to rest on your knee, thumb slipping under your dress’ slit. He cocks his head, waiting for your response, drawing soothing circles against your bare skin, which is having quite the opposite effect. 

Panicking, you shake your head. “I’m alright. Plus, I’d feel bad stealing you away from all your adoring fans so soon, Dr. Zayne.”

He scoffs under his breath, but you see the slight curl in the corner of his lips. Still, he has yet to let go of your thigh, and you decide to shift closer, turning in your seat so your knees brush against Zayne’s, his hand involuntarily sliding higher. 

His fingers are calloused and worn, a testament to his many years spent in the medical field, and his grip is firm against your thigh. It feels familiar, and the memories of his hands on you in many different places sends heat rushing to your cheeks.

The thought doesn't seem to have left his mind either, judging by the way his eyes dart down to your parted lips.

Clearing his throat, Zayne looks away. He is about to say something when you decide to interrupt instead.

“Besides,” you hum, taking a sip of wine. “If the rumors are to be believed, then I’m missing quite a show. Is our Dr. Zayne really that skilled at pool?”

“Ah.” Zayne retracts his hand, clearing his throat as he straightens up in his seat. ”You’re trying to gang up on me.”

You know him well enough to recognize the hint of embarrassment in the way he avoids your gaze. But before you can tease him further, another cheery voice interrupts.

“We meet again, sir!” A young man practically bounces over to the bar, caught between a bow and a handshake as he stumbles into both, flashing a gummy smile at Zayne. 

You raise a brow at his overwhelming enthusiasm, glancing at Zayne as you watch recognition flash across his face.

“Good evening. It’s Steven, yes? You don’t need to address me as “sir”.” Zayne nearly grimaces as he says the word, and you take a sip from your drink to hide your growing smile. 

“Yes! I’m honored you remembered.” Steven nods vigorously. “But anything less would be inappropriate. After all, you taught me so much with your hands-on instruction, I owe my knowledge and successful residency so far to you, sir.”

Still, Zayne shuts him down. “I was only doing what I should have done. Any credit beyond that is your own.” 

It’s almost like he’s allergic to praise. 

“Humble and smart,” Steven laughs, winking all-too-obviously at you. “Regardless, I just wanted to thank you for everything formally, sir. You two have a wonderful rest of your night!”

“Yes.” Zayne frowns, leaning ever so slightly closer to you. ”To you as well.”

Quickly feigning ignorance, you pretend to be absorbed in the powerpoint some professor is giving on the opposite side of the venue, immediately lost in a diagram of a heart valve. You’re about to take another sip of your drink when something pinches your ear. Yelping at the sting, you jump in your seat, whirling around to face the culprit.

Zayne scoffs. “I could see you eavesdropping a mile away. Did you find anything interesting?”

“Oh, aside from learning that you are extremely humble, smart, handsome, and rather adept at hands-on instruction, nothing much,” you lean against the counter, blinking up at Zayne through your lashes as you sing the last word, “Sir.”

You watch his jaw clench, a rigid movement that makes your heart skip. Zayne laughs, a harsh, sharp sound. He shakes his head before his hand grips your jaw, tugging you gently but firmly towards him. His eyes narrow, and your heart stutters.

“Clever girl. What is it you want this time?”

This time. As if Zayne could refuse you anything, as if the mere sight of you isn't enough to make him go mad.

But you're not the only one who knows how to play. And he rather likes watching just how far you’ll go.

Smiling innocently, you rest a hand on Zayne’s shoulder. The warmth of his skin seeps through the silky material of his suit. You can't help but slide your hand further up, tracing the curve of his neck with your thumb. “Well…” You lick your lips, tasting the waxy remnants of your lipstick as you fight to keep your voice even under Zayne’s piercing gaze. ”You never did any hands-on training with me, and everyone says what an honor it’s been to be taught by you, sir. I wonder what I’ll have to do to experience it finally.”

Zayne sighs, and for a moment, he appears disappointed.

“It seems like you truly want to learn about surgeries.” A scoff, and Zayne’s face seems to fall back to its stoic facade. But he pulls you closer, tilting your head so his lips graze your earlobe once more. “Who knew my little hunter was so skilled at acting?”

You gasp, placing a hand on your chest in faux surprise. “What accusations, doctor. Besides, I was thinking about something with a… less steep learning curve.”

Zayne hums thoughtfully, thumb venturing from your jaw as it brushes across your lips. Once. Twice. Three times before he stands up, hand finally dropping from your face as he grabs your wrist instead. 

“Then allow me to take our first lesson elsewhere.”

You don’t offer any sort of resistance as Zayne leads you through the crowd, opting to let go of your wrist and guide you away from prying eyes, hand instead lingering against the small of your back as he walks beside you. He opens the door for you, directing the two of you down one of the main venue halls, echoes of conversation muffled by the soft ding of an elevator. Zayne flashes his medical ID before clicking the top floor, the sensor buzzing green as it carries you up with the smooth flow of elevator jazz. 

Zayne’s hand has yet to leave your waist. His thumb goes back to tracing soft circles against the divots in your back as though from habit, nearly touching bare skin due to the sweeping backless design of your dress. You fight the urge to lean further into him, already fidgeting in your heels at the thought of his touch, slow and careful and calculated, elsewhere.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the chime of the elevator. 

Oh, god, snap out of it. You rush out of the elevator, hoping Zayne didn’t notice the furious heat you can feel rising from your cheeks to the tips of your ears.

Smoothing some loose hair back behind your ear, you close your eyes and focus on taking deep breaths, as if it’ll push all these obscene scenarios of Zayne’s large, perfect hands doing unspeakable things out of your mind. 

It works for a moment, expelling all these potential scenarios and instead reminding you of every time Zayne has taken action. Memories of him after hours at the clinic, during movie nights when neither of you paid attention to the TV, and even the drive here where he decided to—

“Does the sight of a billiard table scare you that much?”

The heat from earlier is back in full force. Your eyes snap open, and you are greeted with Zayne’s signature eyebrow raise, feigning concern despite his amused smile that only grows more prominent when he notices the flush creeping across your skin.

“Hardly.” You force a smile, turning your head as you refuse to let him gloat. “I’m just so ecstatic that I’ll finally receive hands-on training from the Dr. Zayne.”

A low hum, “Yes, at least until you feel well enough to go back and socialize.” 

He says this, yet you know Zayne is just as happy as you are to finally escape from the crowds below.

“Well,” you purr, “take care of me until then, sir.”

You giggle as he frowns at the title, waltzing past him to a corner pool table in the billiard hall. The floor is dedicated to different tabletop games, all lined up against numerous floor-to-ceiling windows aglow with a gorgeous view of Linkon City. The city lights bleed in since the entire room was rather dim, no doubt an artistic choice, adorned sensually with faux candlelight chandeliers and the low timber of jazz.

“Have you played before?”

“Once or twice– some call me a natural genius.” You brush imaginary hair from your shoulders as Zayne scoffs before handing you a cue stick. Lacing his hand into your own, you pull the stick and thus him closer. “Why? Are you going to be strict with me, sir?”

Seeing through your jab, Zayne responds without hesitation. “Strict teachers make outstanding students. Let’s start.”

You pout, about to walk to the other side of the pool table to observe his shot, when Zayne’s arm laces around your waist, holding you against him for a second longer. 

“And no more distractions.”

Not trusting your voice, you nod, watching as he bends to aim the cue, muscles beneath his sleeves flexing with each calculated movement. You hear the sound of a cue stick colliding with its target, but your attention is too focused on his fingers to process any of the actual movements.

Another sharp click breaks the silence. You watch as the cue ball collides with a red striped one, sending the former skittering off the sides while the other sinks into the pocket with a dull thud.

“You’re unfairly good at this.”

Zayne raises a brow, “Maybe it’s because a surgeon requires steady hands.” 

And the moment you glance down, any chance of salvation is lost.

You’re not a fool. You’ve noticed Zayne’s hands before, on more occasions than you’d care to admit. But it’s as he says and more. 

Lining up for another shot, you watch him stretch forward, forearms exposed from his deliciously rolled-up sleeves and discarded blazer, your eyes tracing every prominent vein down to his hands, spread wide against the table, tense as the stick rests against his pointer finger and thumb. Even in the dim lighting you can see pale silver scars littering his forearms, and you swear you’ve never seen something so beautiful, like traces of frost against marble. 

Again, it shouldn’t be a surprise that a surgeon must take good care of their hands, but it’s nearly unfair how gorgeous Zayne’s are. Not only that, but you remember how comforting his hands feel against your own, how they caressed your thigh earlier tonight, and just how attentive and precise they can be. 

“You’re not focusing on my lesson.”

Shit.

With a single strike, Zayne tries to sink another ball, but the angle is just off, and the striped ball hits the corner of the pocket, ricocheting against the wood with a dull thud. 

Zayne leans against the pool table, cue stick resting against his shoulder.

"Your turn."

Copying Zayne’s movements as best you can, you clumsily position your cue stick between your knuckles, aiming for what seemed to be a fairly easy shot. Only for the ball to ricochet far left as the white ball knocks into it. Even your cue stick wobbles after, as if shaking in laughter at your poor shot. 

Frowning, you look up to see Zayne’s disapproving gaze locked onto the pool table. 

“Is there not an easier way to do this? One more suitable for beginners?”

“There is.” Zayne leans in, his expression betraying nothing. “First, try adjusting your posture. You’ll see better results.”

Another sigh, and you halfheartedly drape yourself over the table again. “Like this? I’m not sure I fully understand, I think I need your help identifying my weak spots via more hands-on learning, sir.”

“Allow me to guide you, then.”

For a moment you think you’ll have to bait Zayne more, yet before you can figure out how to push the stubborn doctor any further, you feel the weight of his hands, heavy against your shoulder and hip. 

Zayne shifts forward, and you can feel the fabric of his suit vest graze the bare skin of your back, his hands unnaturally cool against the dips in your waist as he nudges your back into an arch. You comply, Zayne’s body nearly folding atop yours as his chest brushes your back. 

He takes the cue stick from your hand.

“You’re too tense,” Zayne pats your back two times. Your waist immediately bends, and you hear him laugh under his breath. “And now you’re too relaxed.”

With his hands still pressed against your waist, Zayne repositions himself and thus you as well, and you can feel the chill of each exhale against the crook of your neck.

He guides your aim, lining it up to the cue ball. The tip brushes ever so gently against the felt surface as it pushes, slowly and deliberately, practicing the gentle back-and-forth motion as you struggle to keep pace. 

“Drop your left arm. Allow it to bend naturally.” He taps your elbow and waist. “Your head, dominant arm, and the cue stick should all form a straight line.”

You begin to shuffle according to Zayne’s instructions, hinging your hips backward before you realize what a wonderfully compromising position he’s placed you in. As discreetly as possible, you allow your right leg to step backward, movement forcing you further against Zayne as you press the curve of your ass into his hips. Immediately, you’re rewarded with a sharp inhale next to your ear. 

But instead of pulling away or reprimanding you Zayne merely continues with the lesson, almost frustratingly unaffected if it wasn’t for the fact that you could feel his reaction grow between your thighs. 

Still, he is nothing if not a professional as he whispers against your jaw, "Behave.”

"I am," you reply, and one of Zayne’s hands comes up to guide your cue stick. “...It just hurts a little.”

You don’t have to see his face to know that Zayne is giving you a smug smile. 

“That means it’s correct.”

You take a deep breath. You practice the same back-and-forth motions, thrusting the stick forward on the third, watching as your cue stick strikes the white ball, sending a solid orange one rolling.

Another click and a thud, and you successfully land a pocket.

Just when you feel like you’re finally getting the hang of it, you make the fatal mistake of looking down to where Zayne's fingers guide yours against the cue stick, and your brain turns to scramble once more. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a soft, fleeting sensation.

And you miss.

Zayne is quiet for a long moment, tilting his head, letting the warmth of his cheek press against your neck. “Snap out of it. Are you even paying attention?”

Bastard. He knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“Of course,” you retort, skin feeling uncomfortably hot even when Zayne finally steps back from you, your body searing the memory of his touch into every nerve. “I’ll score the next one myself.”

He hums and cocks an eyebrow as if telling you to go on, prove him wrong. 

“Remember, move the cue stick to gauge the shot two or three times, then stop at the position closest to the ball.”

You do, gauging the weight of the cue stick, bending down over the table so your chest nearly brushes with the felt, narrowing in on the solid green ball. 

“Stop and pull back the cue stick in three, two, one.” 

On Zayne’s command, you strike, a satisfying click followed by the thump of the ball falling into the corner pocket. You scored. All on your own.

“It went in!” You jolt up, spinning as you laugh. 

“So it did. Seems like your pool skills are less about precision and more… passion.” Zayne’s lips twitch into a smile, and you’re not foolish enough to ignore his double meaning. “Granted, you might need a little more than passion to come back and win this round.”

You scoff, attempting to change the subject without drawing attention to how red your face has gotten. “Well then, perhaps if you’re not too committed to this doctor thing there’s still a chance for you in the professional billiard space.”

“No, thank you. Now, think you can make another shot by yourself?”

“Wait a moment. When a student does well, shouldn’t they get a reward?”

“Very well,” Zayne relents, tone even despite the searing gaze he practically strips down your body. “What do you want?”

“There are a few balls blocking my next shot. Help me?”

A beat, and he blinks at you incredulously. “That is all?”

“What’s wrong, Dr. Zayne? Scared that if you give me too much help, I’ll steal this victory from you?”

“Provocation doesn’t work on me.”

“Then come here.”

God, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to how pliant he is for you, obeying your command without so much as a moment of hesitation. His larger frame now towers above you, close enough that you have to crane your neck to maintain eye contact. And you can’t help but tease him a bit more. It’s not your fault his obedience gives you a rush.

“Closer,” you whisper, teasing your fingers against his vest buttons. “Or else I can’t reach it.” 

Still, Zayne complies. Although this time his brows furrow, shuffling closer so his knee slips between yours and your chest presses against his. “What exactly are you…”

You yank his tie, pushing him down atop the felt tabletop before he can finish his sentence. 

There’s a dull thud, Zayne’s vest ruffled as you pin him to the table. He still looks frustratingly composed, not a hair out of place, but you feel his chest rise and fall uncharacteristically fast under your palm.

Smiling in victory, your other hand brings up your cue stick, making a show of tapping it on his broad shoulders. “Ah, look, the ball is so far away. I think I’ll need a cue rest.”

“Using cue rests would be overkill,” Zayne retorts, propping himself onto his elbows as you pout. You’ve been teasing him all night; surely just one more push, and he’ll finally give in? 

Before he can escape from your hold, you lift the cue stick off his shoulder, letting the tip slip under his tie. Zayne watches with a tight frown as you tug his tie loose. “And this is inappropriate.”

“But are you not enjoying it too?” Your leg slides out from the slit in your dress, allowing you to straddle Zayne’s thigh as your arms cage him further against the pool table. “Sir?”

His brows furrow, almost surprised at your brazenness before he looks down with a huff, and you see the smirk he’s fighting to keep at bay. “I shouldn’t have taught you so much.”

Getting revenge for before, it’s your turn to grip his jaw, brushing kisses against his beautifully hooked nose and down his jaw, leaving smears of cherry red in your wake as you purposefully neglect his waiting lips. “What can I say? I have a very attentive teacher.” 

Zayne is about to say something sarcastic back, no doubt, so you roll your hips forward, cutting off his words as you’re rewarded with a groan instead. The angle allows you to grind atop the rough seams in his trousers, nearly catching against his zipper and the heavy bulge you can already feel straining underneath. 

His hand shoots out, gripping your thigh as you gasp. There’s a warning look in his eyes, but he makes no move to stop you.

Encouraged, you repeat the motion, rocking forward against him as you give an exaggerated moan. Zayne quickly cuts it off with his other hand, thumb pressing against your bottom lip as he muffles your noises. You open your lips further, allowing the digit to slide against your lipstick and push against your tongue. 

Zayne tsks, shaking his head.

You gently nip at his finger before beginning to suck the offending digit, flicking your tongue against the rough pad of his thumb. You watch his eyes narrow, the grip on your waist tightening. Zayne is holding himself back. Again. 

You release his thumb with a pop. "Don't worry, sir, no one will hear." As if to prove your point, you stop grinding, instead bringing your hand up to cup at the bulge straining against his pants. “Besides, you’re too pretty like this. I'm the only one who gets to hear all the sounds you make.”

You smile so sweetly despite the way you torture him with every rough drag of your palm against his clothed cock. But it’s only when your smile breaks into something more genuine that Zayne feels himself flush, gazing up at you adoringly before he tries to play it off with a chuckle and a pinch at your hips.

"The things you say..." His expression changes to something unreadable, stone-cold and conflicted. The chances of losing you again are greater than he once thought. He doesn't deserve this, and he doesn't deserve you. Zayne is reminded of that every time he dares get too close.

But he can't help it. He’d eternally become a fool, a martyr, just for you.

Zayne’s jaw clenches, and a stuttered moan slips through his teeth as your hand squeezes his clothed cock. "Do you think I'm that weak to flattery?"

"No. I just think you deserve it sometimes." You smirk. "Plus, I'm not flattering you, I'm complimenting."

"And what's the difference?"

"The intent," you whisper, grinding your hips forward again.

This time, you catch him by surprise, and Zayne moans, the sound low and rough and so fucking addicting. Zayne grunts, head tilting back as he shuts his eyes, lips parting ever so slightly as more soft sighs and moans slip out, spurring you on.

You lean in, breath warm against his ear as you whisper, "What's wrong, sir? I thought you had a lesson to teach me."

Zayne’s grip tightens, and he yanks you down so your palms skid across the smooth felt of the pool table you’ve pinned him against, pulling your hips flush against his as his palm cups your ass.

“If you actually want to learn, there's another way I can teach you…” Zayne leans up on his forearms until his lips brush with yours, and right as his eyes begin to flutter closed, you shove him backward. Denying his kiss. Again.

“Sir, this seems to be highly unprofessional.”

And Zayne finally snaps. 

“First you use your teacher as a cue rest, then you try to talk about professionalism?” He lets out a curt laugh, and you can practically feel his patience wearing thin. It’s terrifying, and your stomach flutters in anticipation.

“ Unprofessional ,” he spits, and your thighs clench at the growl undercutting his words. “Unprofessional, like that time you were screaming my name in the back of my car while we were still at the hospital parking lot? Or unprofessional, like that time you interrupted me during work hours, begging me to eat your cunt out in my office? Or perhaps it’s like when you decided to turn this lesson into an opportunity to tease me since you’re clearly so desperate?”

You can practically feel yourself drip at Zayne’s blunt words, each one harsh and true— your relationship with him had passed morally ethical the moment you pulled him in to kiss you instead of pushing him away months ago.

Using this moment of weakness, Zayne lifts you up, flipping the two of you around so you’re the one pinned against the pool table as he reaches for his abandoned cue stick. And he finally- finally - claims your lips with his. 

Zayne always kisses like he operates, slow and methodical, as if he could spend hours learning every inch of your body, and it never fails to leave you breathless. But today, the urgency in the way he licks into your mouth is palpable, and it has you whining and clutching his suit, legs wrapping around his waist as you try to bring him closer, the oak rim of the table forcing your back into a deeper arch as you whine. 

A firm hand against your hip stops your movement, pinning you down. You feel so small, caged in between his much longer legs, his superior height much too obvious. The difference in size is almost laughable as he bends down to lick deeper into your mouth. You gasp against Zayne’s lips as his other hand slides to the back of your neck, thumb rubbing circles against the column of your throat and your fluttering heartbeat underneath.

You whimper into his mouth, futilely attempting to push him away even though your hips grind insistently against his thigh. “Zayne,” his name tapers off into a moan as he kisses you again, addicted. “We can’t–” another kiss. “Anyone could walk in.” Another.

When he does give you space to breathe, a thin string of saliva connects his bottom lip to yours. He pants heavily, lips shaded a hue of cherry red from your lipstick and teeth as the corner of his mouth tugs into a frown. “Hm, I suppose that’s true. But that didn’t stop you before, did it? So I see no reason why it should stop me now.”

And you realize your fate has long since been sealed.  

Zayne returns to peppering your neck with kisses, teeth nipping the soft skin at your collarbone, and you yelp as he leaves a particularly harsh bite. Your hands come up to fist into his hair, and Zayne groans against your chest.

"Do not think I have forgotten our lesson," He whispers.

"Who, me?" You bat your eyelashes. "I would never. Sir."

His gaze darkens. "Then watch closely, I’m only doing this once.” 

Leaning over you, Zayne positions the cue stick against your shoulder, not unlike you did to him before. But unlike you, he forces your hips up against his thigh, watching your eyes roll back from the delicious friction of his expensive trousers. “There are two striped balls left. As punishment for your attitude during my lesson, I want you to come on my thigh before I pocket both of them.”

Dumbstruck, you can only stare up at him, stammering at his demand as you feel your pussy flutter. “I- I don’t think…”

Zayne scoffs, silencing you by roughly thumbing at your lips again. “Don’t act so shocked. You’ve been humping me like a desperate brat all evening, so go on and come like one. Come for me.”

His words are demeaning, each one cold and seemingly emotionless as he stares down at you. But you can see the truth in his eyes as he watches your every reaction, their gentle green filled with an adoration so tender it terrifies you. You feel the truth in his touch, only moving with your consent, already having memorized your body to learn the way you tick and acting upon your every whim, only pushing you just as far as you wish to be. 

Zayne has never told you he loves you, but he has shown you that he does in a thousand countless ways. 

And he’ll prove it to you in a thousand more. 

”Unless, you want more punishment?” Zayne twists his head towards you with his next statement, and he feels the way it makes you flinch— it makes him throb at the same time. You shake your head. 

You can barely form sentences when he’s deliberately tensing the muscles in his thigh, each movement in time with every needy twitch of your hips like it’s a means to emphasize his point. 

“Use. Your. Words.”

“No.”

His grip tightens, fingers tensing against your neck, and you stammer back out the correction. “No, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Your heart flutters at the praise, a quiet whimper escaping you as you buck against him. Your lips are pouty from being bitten between your teeth, and you still hear muffled sobs and moans slip past your lips as you begin chasing the friction against his thigh, the upward angle punishing your clit. 

Despite how much Zayne likes to front that he’s in complete control, something tells you he’s having a harder time holding back than he’ll ever admit. You think maybe the bulge in his slacks and his low moans against your ear is proof enough of that.

Zayne’s not sure which is more distracting, the sight of your pretty pussy grinding against him, only just covered by the thin silk of your dress, or the sounds falling from your mouth. The room is filled with the wet sounds of your cunt, your whimpers, and Zayne's own groans.

Pressing his forehead against yours, Zayne leans in for another kiss, the tips of your noses barely touching. But the proximity makes you slow, and he clicks his tongue, reaching above you to line up his cue stick for the next shot. But he pauses, instead fully tugging off the tie you had loosed.

"Since you were so insistent on taking my tie off earlier, here. Keep it for me." Zayne grabs both your wrists with one hand, looping his tie tightly against your skin, skillfully making a knot without ever releasing your wrists. 

“Maybe this will help you behave properly,” Zayne whispers, voice low as he mouths your pulse point, a fresh surge of arousal rushing to your core as you feel his length pressing further into you. 

With a broken whimper, you hook an ankle around Zayne’s back as you begin to grind harder against his thigh, moaning at the new angle. It hardly compared to the feeling of his fingers or cock fucking into you, but you barely cared, arousal and lust spurred on by Zayne’s voice. 

You soon fall into a rhythm, painfully slow, the mere friction sending jolts of heat through you until you’re certain Zayne’s trousers must be stained. You nearly beg for something to hold onto, hands writhing helplessly against his tie as your sobs are muffled into your red-bitten lips.

But just as soon as the pleasure builds, you feel it plateau, hips beginning to stutter as the dull friction becomes too little, the coiling heat inside you desperate to be properly filled up by something, anything. 

Zayne, on the other hand, is faring no better. 

He’s thoroughly distracted with the pretty little thing desperately fucking herself against his thigh, caging you down to the table as his hands clench against the cue stick, nearly enough to make it snap. 

You continue to push yourself in desperation to fulfill Zayne’s order for you to come, his continuous praises mingling with the lewd squelch of your cunt, and your eyes roll back with a cry. Zayne’s voice is intoxicating, his steady tone rough with lust sending tremors down your spine, infecting you like an aphrodisiac. You were building further and further, mounting pressure in your core dizzying, desperation for release seeping through you, mind lust-drunk as you willed yourself to fall off the peak.

But the familiar sound of the billiard balls clicks somewhere above you, followed by two distinct thuds. 

A hum, and Zayne pries himself away as you whine at the loss, cold air rushing in. 

You failed. 

“How disappointing.” Zayne scolds as if he wasn’t the one who nearly came from your grinding instead. ”But you know what happens to students who fail to follow clear instructions, don’t you?”

Standing back, Zayne discards the cue stick entirely as one hand readjusts his trousers, and you whimper at the sight of him cupping his bulge, stroking and coaxing it against his thigh just so he can stand straight. 

“Turn around and lift your dress.”

You obey, propping yourself up on shaking arms before you flip around so the rough edge of the billiard table now presses against your stomach, the felt hot beneath your bound wrists. 

Zayne hums in approval, almost apathetically observing the way you squirm before he nods at you to continue. Lowering your eyes from his, you allow your leg to slip out from the slit in your dress, spreading your legs back and to the side as the silk falls off the curve of your ass, Zayne’s piercing gaze following every movement. 

“Didn’t think a game of pool would turn you on this much,” he muses, leaning against the rim of the table as he crosses his arms.

Unable to meet his stare any longer, your head falls between your still tied-up hands, every inch of your body burning in shame and lust as Zayne continues to wordlessly observe you. You swear you’ll burn up with the way he fucks you with his eyes.

 Still, Zayne doesn’t move. 

You nearly scream against the table, eyes scrunched as you snap. “Fuck! Zayne, I swear to god, if you don’t finally fuck me I’ll do it myself or find someone else who will.”

The words barely leave your mouth when a hand fists into your hair, pulling you backward until you arch back, and you gasp, mouth falling open at the sensation. Zayne's breath is cold against the shell of your ear, the growl undercutting his words sending tremors down your spine.

"Needy little brat," his fingers curl into your hair, pulling until your jaw goes slack. Zayne's other hand finds its way back to your underwear, the material so damp that it almost feels sticky beneath his touch, and you moan at the sensation, unable to formulate a retort as your eyes flutter closed. “I think you’re forgetting this is meant to be your punishment.”

He snaps the band of your panties, and you choke, knees wobbling.

"Remember to count, or we start over.”

Placing the flat of his palm in the space between your shoulder blades, Zayne pushes you down against the billiard table, the side of your face pressed against the felt.

You hear the sharp crack of his hand meeting your ass before you feel it, the burn returning with a vengeance as you scream into the table. The sting of his palm leaves a searing heat across the curve of your ass, and you bite down on the tie binding your hands to muffle the cries that escape you.

Then you remember his order, lips quivering as you say, "One."

Another smack. This time harder. The strike is so precise it nearly sends you toppling over, the sting and ache following pushing you further against the wood. You let out a sob, eyes beginning to water as you clench around nothing, the throbbing of your cunt only worsened by Zayne's firm grip on the base of your neck.

"Two."

The third strike comes down even harder than the last, the resounding echo of his slap followed by a strangled scream from you, the heat and pain making your knees give out, forcing you to rest fully atop the pool table. “Three.”

You feel tears running down your face, undoubtedly ruining your makeup. But before you can process the fourth smack, you feel the familiar sting against your ass and the paradoxically gentle rub of Zayne's hand against the aching spot, soothing the pain as you count.

 "F-Four." You shutter as you feel sheer cold bloom against your skin, his Evol numbing your ass as you whimper from the pleasure-pain.

Zayne’s thumb dips past the seam of your panties, gathering the slick that has been dripping out of you for the entire night. You feel the heat of his stare on you and the weight of his hand heavy on the small of your back, his other hand still gripping your neck with his thumb tracing soft circles against your pulse.

"So wet. Is this what you were hoping for, hm? Testing me until I finally snapped and ruined you?”

You don't dare look him in the eye. "Please, sir. I can't—"

"Can't what? Take anymore? Can't take any more punishment like the disobedient brat you are?" Zayne's voice is low, and you shiver at his words, unable to respond as the tears continue to flow, the mixture of pain and arousal leaving your vision blurred and cloudy. He spanks you again, this time hard enough to leave a mark, and you keen, legs spreading even wider in desperation.

"I can't— ah shit — please. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sir, please, just fuck me already.” you plead, voice trembling as you beg, desperate to be filled by anything other than the emptiness. 

“Language.” Zayne reprimands, and the sting of his strike follows shortly after. “And you forgot to count.”

“Five! It’s f-five.” Your knees buckle with a sob, and Zayne has to hold your waist so you don't slide onto the floor, his touch paradoxically gentle compared to everything else he’s done.

“Shh, you’re far too noisy. It’s almost as though you want someone walking in to find us like this.”

Your dress is only noticeably bunched up from the back and Zayne is still fully clothed. Anyone walking by the billiard hall would just see a couple talking by the tables, but if they were to enter the room it would hardly take a brain surgeon to figure out what was happening. The realization has your walls clench around nothing.

Zayne hoists your wrists up, forcing you into a deeper arch before untying your restraints. You then watch him fist the purple silk into a ball before pushing it into your mouth, gagging you with it. “Don’t worry, this will help.”

It doesn't.

You moan against his tie, saliva pooling against the silky fabric as Zayne pushes the soaked garment deeper into your throat, his chest pressed against your bare back. You look up at him through watery eyes, sniffling, the tingling sensation of being punished in such a way overwhelming you completely. Zayne uses this opportunity to soothe you like he always does— never failing to find the perfect balance between rough and gentle.

"It's alright, I know, my little darling can’t make up her mind. I’ll help you, I’ll show you what you want." Zayne soothes, stroking your cheek with his thumb, his gaze gentle despite his steady and strict voice. Then, he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he whispers, “If anything hurts or becomes too much, tap the table twice." 

You wouldn’t dare, not after finally getting what you wanted.

Zayne slips his hands under the backs of your thighs, easily lifting your weight against his chest as you whimper, the toes of your heels just barely grazing the tiled floor. The position is beyond embarrassing, ass up, face down, completely exposed and at his mercy.

He withdraws one hand, and you cry out, a garbled mess of pleas. The absence of his touch is torturous, the throbbing of your pussy and the soreness of your ass a painful reminder of the punishment you received.

The tent in his pants was tantalizingly obvious, even more pronounced once he pushed his pants down, taking out his length. He spits on his fingers, the slick sounds of him stroking himself making you whine in anticipation. It was oozing with precum, head red and flushed as he jerks himself off with sharp movements between your thighs. You grind your hips back, trying to tempt him, but all Zayne does is coo at your pitiful attempts.

"Look at you, so desperate. All that childish stubbornness just because you want my cock." He lines himself up, the head of his cock catching against your entrance as you shiver. The stretch burns, and you groan, eyes screwing shut at the feeling. "My beautiful, filthy girl."

Zayne whispers, curling an arm between your sweat-slickened bodies. You think he means to finally alleviate the needy throbbing against your clit, but instead his hand presses firmly against your lower stomach as he continues to fuck into you, torturously slow, allowing the blunt head of his cock to bully its way deeper and deeper still. 

The sensation is overwhelming, the stretch of Zayne's cock combined with the sting of his earlier punishment leaves you a mess, fluttering around him as he finally bottoms out.

He lets out a long moan, a low rumble that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. You're so full, the head of his cock pressing insistently against the bundle of nerves inside you.

Some distant part of you is mortified of every lewd squelch and moan that echos over the jazz in the public hall, but feeling Zayne gently cup your ass while the other brutally pins you down, hearing him come apart against the back of your neck, knowing that your stoic lover was pushed to such extremes has you keening.

You want to feel every inch of him, so you clench down, and Zayne bites the back of your neck in retaliation, his hips stuttering.

"You’re perfect." Zayne praises, and his breathless voice sends shivers down your spine. "So good for me, taking me so well."

Zayne finally starts moving, letting the tip of his cock pull back until the head catches on the rim of your cunt, trying desperately to keep him inside, until he thrusts back into you in a single harsh motion, watching you fall apart just as he knew you would. 

Your scream muffles into the gag, and Zayne reaches down to push the tie deeper into your mouth, the knot catching on the back of your tongue as he sets a steady pace. 

The hand against your lower stomach shifts, still pressing hard enough so Zayne can feel his cock throb through you, and yet now positioned perfectly to thumb against your clit too. He needs to make you come, to feel it around him. 

Zayne knows your body better than his own, knows exactly what angle he needs to hit, knows exactly where to touch to send your hips jerking back, and knows exactly where to tease to have you clenching down and sobbing into his tie.

It doesn't take long until you're coming, his fingers circling the bundle of nerves until you're screaming, thighs shaking, and he has to hold them open as you fall apart around him, cunt gushing as you squirt over his suit and trousers.

Your orgasm has your walls fluttering, clenching around his cock as it nearly begs for him to be buried deeper inside, and Zayne grunts, a broken moan ripped from his throat as his grip on your thigh tightens.

The pace of his thrusts grows sloppier, and you can tell he's close, the wet squelch of his cock inside your cunt driving you mad as his rhythm becomes inconsistent. You can feel his breath fan against your neck, labored and shaky, with the way he chases his high.

Your cunt aches with how full you feel, overstimulated and sensitive, but you push your hips back anyway, meeting Zayne halfway as you both chase the release that's been building up all night.

With one final thrust, Zayne finally comes inside you, a choked gasp followed by a low moan as his hips stutter, almost fucking his cum back into you as a sloppy mixture of your release drip down his cock and your thighs. 

Your eyes roll back into your skull, and your second orgasm takes you by surprise, your body convulsing at the overstimulation and the warm soothing sensation of being filled to the brim. 

"Fuck." Zayne whispers, his hands holding your hips as his thumbs trace circles against the dimples at the small of your back. The chill and comfort of his hands is almost enough to distract you from the ache, and you groan, legs finally giving out beneath you as you fall forward onto the pool table, the hard surface unforgiving as the wood rubs against your bruised knees.

Ever so gently, Zayne removes his tie from your mouth, turning you around so you’re pressed tight against his chest, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. You can feel his rapid heartbeat and the way his hands tremble, and you smile, the familiar tenderness of his touch calming the both of you.

He slowly runs a hand down the curve of your back and you hum against the top of his head, your own hand coming up to gently stroke his hair. “I think I love you, Zayne.”

He doesn’t say a word, instead, you feel his other arm wrap around your waist, tucking you further into his embrace.

The two of you remain like this, tangled in each other until your breathing finally evens out and the fever that inflected you begins to cool. When Zayne finally speaks, his voice is muffled against your skin, and you shiver at the mere brush of his lips. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“Hmm, not any more than I’d want to be.” 

You mean it as a joke, but Zayne immediately stiffens in your hold, pulling back just enough to inspect your neck, then your wrists and hips as he kisses each bruise and remaining mark with hushed apologies. 

"Did you mean it?"

You look down at him, his brows furrowed as you thumb at the stubborn crease that appears between them. You’re not sure why, but something in the way he stares up at you, waiting, longing, makes tears prick in the back of your eyes. 

"Zayne," your voice is gentle, and you cup his cheek. "I do. I love you."

The tension in his jaw melts, his expression softening into something unnameable. His hand comes up to cup yours, scarred thumb tracing circles against your palm. " Say it again."

"I love you," you repeat, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards. "I love you. I love you."

"Again."

"I love you, Zayne–"

The last syllable of his name is cut off by his lips against yours, and you smile into the kiss, pulling him up until his forehead finally rests on your again. 

"As do I," Zayne whispers, voice thick as he hold you close.

And you believe him.

[strawbeerossi]

August - Prologue

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Chapter Description: You look back on the way that you bonded with Spencer over the course of the time you've known him. After one night spent between you both, you tell the girls that you want to ask Spencer to Rossi's wedding. Too bad JJ had other plans.

Content/Warnings: Spoilers for 14x15, unrequited love, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, JJ is a horrible friend (I’m so sorry), general heartbreak.

WC: 2.4K

Navigation || August Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Request

🏷️ @sadroses98

Spencer’s love life was a trainwreck. Everyone knew that after the Maeve debacle, dating wasn’t something that he was concerned with. He saw the horrible things that could happen to significant others of the BAU members. Haley dying, Jack being targeted, and Savannah being shot were things he’d seen first hand and he wasn’t eager to have a loved one go through any of it. He’d never forgive himself.

JJ was always special, in his eyes. Even whenever they were both young on the field together, he always pined after her. She was beautiful, funny, and she didn’t always look so bothered to talk to him. Of course, their failed attempt at a date to the Redskins game was just an indication that he should admire from afar. Besides, he’d like to have her in his life regardless. 

He maintained a healthy friendship with JJ over all fourteen years that he worked with the BAU, the woman being by his side even whenever he didn’t deserve it. It was something he wouldn’t trade for the world. He appreciated her, loving her so much that his heart swelled every time she came near him. He buried all those feelings deep in his heart, keeping quiet on the subject. It wasn’t the healthiest way to handle unspoken feelings but it was the easiest. Work would be awkward, plus she didn’t seem romantically interested. Best not to push.

Whenever you joined the BAU, you were blissfully unaware of Spencer’s feelings toward JJ, instead meeting a version of him that was so dedicated to bottling up those feelings. He was a bit standoffish with you at first, which you didn’t take personally. You’d heard of the endless trauma he’d been through and you felt like you had to work overtime to gain his trust.The problem was, you did damn near everything and it was like it wasn’t working.

You learned how he liked his coffee and brought him a cup every morning, you asked for facts about zany topics, you even mentioned Doctor Who in an effort to reach out to him. It was like he didn’t even want to look in your direction.

You managed to chip away at him over the next few months, getting him to laugh in certain circumstances or even having him greet you in the mornings. It was something that you had to work for but it was all worth it in the end whenever he’d gotten fully comfortable with you. He learned that he enjoyed talking to you, having you around.

The both of you had grown quite close to the point where every Friday that you weren’t on a case was spent having a movie night. He’d even taught you how to sew a scarf after too much trial and error. All the time you spent together was causing you to fall deeper in love with the lovable genius with each interaction. Every silly complaint about a show not being true to science, his rambles on topics that interested him, even when you two would get into arguments. 

It was no surprise that you’d fallen so fast. You wore your heart on your sleeve, yearning for a deep connection that nobody else could take away. Spencer was your person, you could feel it. There were daydreams of having a nice home with a big backyard for your kids, Spencer teaching them magic tricks or helping them excel in their academics. 

It was a Saturday night after a successful case that the team went out drinking together to celebrate. You may have let Penelope and Emily influence you into drinking your body weight in whatever liquor was put in front of you. Spencer hardly drank, however he allowed himself to have a few drinks, his tolerance being so low that he could feel a buzz after just one. 

You were too far gone to remember the events of the night but you did know that you and Spencer left together. The night was spent with drunken sex and whatever else you two got up to within the span of seven hours. You both woke up the next morning and it was still okay. There was no sneaking out when someone was sleeping, no forcing them out. You two actually spent a good portion of the morning together. The only issue? You got more attached. It was like you associated the sex with mutual feelings, the dream of actually finding someone to settle with. 

You’d gotten so caught up with the fantasy that you just had to tell the girls at work during one of your morning gossip sessions.

“I don’t know, I just feel like this could be the start of something great. I really do like him, he means the world to me. I just wish that I could say it.” You admitted, leaning against Penelope’s desk while sipping from your coffee mug. 

“Well, I say just go for it! Our genius needs to settle down.” Penelope encouraged, her eyes widening with excitement. “You two can have babies! I don’t think we could ever have enough BAU babies.” She gushed. 

JJ was laughing softly from her spot in the room at her friend’s excitement. “I mean, the worst he could really do is say no. No harm in trying to ask, right?” The blonde let her shoulders bounce. In a way, she could feel a pang of jealousy in her chest. You and Spencer? That didn’t seem right at all.

“He won’t say no! I am convinced he loves you! I mean, you always brighten his day.” Penelope was piling on encouragement, pushing you to take the bull by the horns and just get yourself out there, to put your feelings first.”Plus, you can invite him to Rossi’s wedding!”

It was safe to say that it was working. You felt a wave of confidence rush over you, taking it with stride. JJ had a point, Spencer wouldn’t be rude about turning you down. The pain would still be there in the event he did but at least he wouldn’t be cruel, right? 

“I’m gonna go talk to him about it. It’s a paperwork day, so it’ll be quiet.” Plus, she could just delve into files that needed to be filed away if he did let her down gently. It was the perfect plan!

You were planning on talking to him later in the afternoon, just enough time to give yourself a pep talk. However, Emily and Penelope killed that idea with a snap of a finger as a case had come up. It came with the territory of your job – make plans and have them destroyed by some loser who decided to massacre multiple people for the fun of it.

***

The case had taken a turn for the worse whenever JJ and Spencer were hot on the unsub’s trail, being locked inside a bank with no way to contact the outside world. The only thing anyone had was shitty footage from the security camera inside with no audio to accompany it. All you could do was assume what was happening as you stared at the screen, Emily beside you as she was talking to Penelope about getting anything if they could.

Their body language said it all though, the way that JJ seemed tense and the way Spencer had a look of… Relief? You didn’t know what was happening in the slightest but it was like you could feel your stomach churn, your heart slowly cracking. 

You didn’t want to assume it was anything too crazy, you didn’t need to worry. You were being silly. Once there were shots inside, everyone was rushing to the back door of the building to get inside. You were frozen in place, eyes focused on the room now filled with agents and cops. 

The sound of everyone talking was muffled, your mind somewhere else as you were slowly turning to the screen before approaching the two agents when they were coming out of the building. “Are you two okay?!” She asked quickly, a shaky edge to her voice as she was bringing a hand to her face. “This job stresses me out,” 

There was lighthearted, yet awkward laughter as you were eventually heading back to the SUVs. 

There was a tension hanging in the air any time that Spencer and JJ were together, the two barely sharing glances as the rest of the team were rejoicing and ending the case and preventing losing innocent people as well as potentially losing two of their best agents.

There was something wrong but you weren’t going to say anything.

Clearly something personal happened in the moment they were forced to play along with whatever the unsub wanted from them. You were curious but you didn’t want to bring it up, maybe out of fear of hearing something that you don't wanna hear. 

You didn’t ask Spencer to be your date to Dave’s wedding, instead going on your own.

The whole environment there made you sad. You were thrilled for Dave and Krystall but it was an atmosphere oozing with love while you were alone, the man you wanted to ask being weird and not speaking to you the way he usually did. There was a lot you wondered about. 

Did you do something wrong? Was he angry at you? More questions echoed in your mind, feeling defeated on how such a good relationship has fizzled out to nothing. 

You were brought out of your thoughts whenever Penelope was passing out whatever concoction of drink she came up with. “Here you go, sour puss.” The blonde spoke while placing the mixed drink in front of you at the bar, you offering a small smile in response. 

“It’s a good day, don’t be sad in the corner all night.” Luke added soon after while you were waving it off. He didn’t know the extent of why you felt the way you did. He just knew that you had been in a funk for days, not being your usual self.

“I’m not sad. I’m just.. I’m not really in the mood.” It was honest, however you knew that you had to show up for Dave, he was family. You would’ve done the same for anyone else in the team for whatever event. 

In the midst of your denial, your gaze had fallen on Spencer and JJ, the two talking together at a table farther from the rest of you. It could’ve been some deep, poorly concealed anger that had you putting the cup down and walking over to the two who seemed to be having a great time together. You were falling apart and it was like he wasn’t even paying attention. It stung. 

“Spencer! JJ!” You announced your presence with a smile, your hands clasping together. “I didn’t get to come talk to you guys earlier. I wanted to say hi.” You began. “Also, why are you two isolated from the team?! Come on!” 

What felt like a knife to your chest was the way Spencer looked at you with a lack of interest, almost as if your presence was bothersome. “Oh, we were just talking. We are fine, we will catch up later.” The male answered, hoping the answer was good enough to be left alone again.

That was the moment you broke.

“What the hell have I done to you? You’ve been dodging my calls and texts for days and you barely talk to me anymore. What is your deal?” In an attempt to not ruin the beautiful ceremony, you were keeping a calm demeanor. Even if you could feel the cracks in the facade. 

“What? Nothing! You’re acting like a child. I’m just having a conversation.” Spencer frowned, his attention finally on you for the first time in days. “You act like we talk every minute of the day.”

“Because we normally do! Come on, Spencer. Just talk to me.” You were begging for a minute of his time, an explanation. For days you’d questioned every interaction and every word said. You thought your relationship was stronger than that.

“I am talking to you. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say.” 

JJ looked visibly uncomfortable with the whole interaction, so that’s whenever you were turning your attention to her. “And you, I’ve been trying to talk to you for days and you don’t give me the time of day. What is happening? Do you both have a problem with me?”

“Look-” 

“No! She has a point, Spencer. I’ll be honest with her.” JJ finally found her voice, although the nervousness was gone now, instead just taking the situation for what it is. “I’m sorry,” The words made your knees weak. 

You knew what was coming. 

“The other day, the key to us getting out of there and preventing any injuries, I played truth or dare. Which, I know what you’re thinking but it wasn’t a childish game in the slightest.” She said slowly while you watched her in disbelief.

“Anyway, I was told to give a secret that I’d never tell anyone else. Something I’d take to the grave and-” 

“You told Spencer that you loved him.” You finished, throat tight as you were restraining the urge to either sob or scream at the blonde. “It’s just funny that this all came out after I told you what I wanted to do. You never showed him the time of day before.” 

“I don’t think you pay enough attention. Spencer has always been my best friend and we spend time together alone quite frequently. Just because you had sex one time doesn’t mean that you both were in an unspoken relationship.” JJ responded, having the audacity to act as if she didn’t break girl code to the highest degree. 

There were a few moments of silence, every intrusive thought bouncing through your mind. Your gaze was briefly turning to David and Krystall, seeing the two happily talking with guests before you were tuning your head to the pair in front of you. 

You reached over for the glass of water that one of them ended up putting down, hand clutching the glass before you made the wise decision of throwing water in their direction, the glass emptying on the both of them before the same glass was being placed down on the table. 

Without a word, you turned on your heels so you could walk away from the two. The reception was over for you, no feeling of celebration. You leaving with tears brimming your eyes caught the attention of the small group of agents, the group now turning their heads briefly to look at Spencer and JJ.

“Oh no..” Penelope frowned, the normally bubbly blonde turning to Tara, Luke and Matt.

“Something tells me that JJ and Spencer are talking..”

[lustkillers]

GOOD GIRLS ARE BAD GIRLS THAT HAVEN’T BEEN CAUGHT!

⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - she's a saint, or is she...?

┃ tags/warnings. ࿐ ❪ nsfw freak shit, public sex, dom!gabriel, sub!reader, unprotected sex, library sex, creampie, reader is reading some random porn book, mentions of reader being an english major/wants to become an english teacher, slight mentions of reader getting made fun of. ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - gabriel x fem!reader

⊹₊ ⋆ note - based off of good girls by 5 seconds of summer. requests are open!!

PEOPLE thought you were a bookworm nerd. And everytime someone would encounter you, you had your nose in a book.

At first, this behavior was frustrating to others. People around you would comment on how bookish you were and it made them uncomfortable. They thought that your lack of social interaction meant you had little interest in being a part of a friend group, or even getting to know them better as individuals.

You didn't care though. You had aspirations, plans, dreams that you wanted to pursue. You knew that the knowledge in those books would help prepare you for your future, and so you studied and read voraciously.

Everyone knew you as an A student, an avid reader and writer, and overall a goody-two shoes.

Your parents knew that you had your life on track, no record of having any relationships. They were proud that their child turned out to be an innocent girl.

Or that's what they thought.

Being an english teacher was a thought you had at a young age, and it had only grown more concrete as you matured. During lectures, you found yourself daydreaming about being in front of a classroom leading discussions and introducing students to new ideas.

And that's what made Gabriel like you.

Gabriel worked at the library you went to, and was a doctoral student. He noticed you spending hours at a time in the library, and was fascinated by how deeply you absorbed yourself into books. He would find an excuse to stop by and talk with you, always asking about the book you were reading.

Everytime you two would talk, there was a spark of interest between you both that was hard to ignore. You found yourself looking forward to your conversations, and he seemed happy just to be in your presence.

As time passed, Gabriel had started asking for more of your time outside the library - suggesting coffee dates and movie nights. You were hesitant at first, but something inside told you there was a connection worth exploring.

Today, you were sitting at a round table hidden at the back of the library, wearing a sundress that was appropriate for the weather. The spot that you sat in the library was rarely touched, tucked away and forgotten. It was the perfect spot to read without any distractions.

Only this time, you were criss-crossed on the chair, your pussy sitting on the heel of your foot as you read… a "book." It was mindless, but a habit. You had no idea he was watching you until he suddenly made himself known with a light chuckle.

He grinned widely as he stood behind the seat across from you. He could see what you were doing, the tent in his pants growing.

"I thought you were here to read," Gabriel said, amusement lacing his words.

You blushed as your face grew hot in embarrassment. You weren't sure how to respond so you stayed quiet and looked away from him, trying your best not to meet his gaze.

"I am. I was just getting comfortable," you said softly.

He raised an eyebrow, “So… Getting comfy as you basically read a porn book. Gotcha.”

Gabriel chuckled, taking a seat across from you. He crossed his leg and adjusted his glasses, leaning forward to meet your gaze. “I'm not judging you - I think it's kind of cute that you have a thing for reading erotica," he said with a smirk on his face.

A scoff escaped your lips, "I don't have a thing for erotica, Gabe."

"Oh, I think you do," Gabriel said as he leaned in closer. His eyes were intense and his voice was low. "I think if we had more time, I would teach you all kinds of things about erotica that will make this book look tame."

He was getting bold with you, something that you’d never expect. You felt a thrill run through your body and you couldn't help but smile. You were glad Gabriel was still here, even if it wasn't for the reason he thought. "Oh yeah?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him in challenge.

"Oh yeah." Gabriel said confidently as he disappeared under the table, out of sight. You heard a soft chuckle before you felt gentle pressure on your inner thigh, taking your breath away. Gabriel's hands traveled up and down your legs, sending sparks of pleasure everywhere he touched. You couldn't help but moan in response.

You frantically looked around, scared that someone would find you, especially Gabriel under the table. You felt his lips brush against your inner thigh, sending a shiver down your spine. You knew that if you kept going like this, you wouldn't be able to stop. But at the same time, you didn't want to stop either.

His breath fanned over your now exposed pussy, and you found yourself rocking your hips towards him in anticipation. He slowly licked and teased your most sensitive areas, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body. Every muscle tensed up as his tongue worked its magic. You gripped the edge of the table tightly, trying to hold on to the intense sensations that Gabriel was giving you until it passed, but it was almost too much to handle.

Quiet whimpers left your mouth, finding it hard to stay quiet in a library out of all places. You had no idea what kind of trouble you would get into if someone caught you. But in that moment, all that mattered was the pleasure he was giving you and your own pleasure.

Your hands found its way to his hair, lightly tugging on his dark strands. He moaned in response, sending a thrill down your spine. His hands brought you closer to the edge as his tongue continued to work wonders on your clit.

The feeling of euphoria was at its peak, but was soon shattered as a figure stood into your spot of the library. It was one of Gabriel’s co-workers, who looked oblivious to what was happening.

It was a great opportunity for you to use your leg to bring in another chair, blocking their view of him. You were both thankful for the temporary cover, and Gabriel pulled his lips away from your pussy, leaving you to whine a little.

“Hey! Have you seen Gabe by any chance?” His co-worker asked, oblivious to the noise they made.

You breathed a sigh of relief and put your hand over Gabriel's mouth as he started to snicker. After a few moments, you dropped your hand and managed to whisper back saying, “No, I haven’t seen him around in the past few minutes. He must have gone outside for some fresh air or some-THING!" You yelped, Gabriel’s tongue pressing up against your folds.

The figure gave you a confused look before shrugging and walking off, leaving the two of you alone again. You looked back to Gabriel with an amused smirk, “Really? You couldn’t control yourself for a few more minutes?”

He got up from under the table, a mischievous smirk stretching across his face. “What can I say? I couldn’t resist.” He pulled you into his arms and kissed your neck. “Now, let’s finish what we started.”

His arms carried you to sit on the round table, and you felt his hand sliding up your thigh, exploring your body. You could feel the warmth of his hands on your skin as he touched and teased every inch of you. His lips found their way back to yours, claiming them in a passionate kiss that only left you wanting more.

His fingers trailed lower and lower, until they reached your core. You gasped as he expertly found his way through your folds, exploring every inch of you. His tongue pressed up against you in ways that sent shivers down your spine. Every movement felt more and more pleasurable to you and before long, it became too hard to resist any longer.

You let out a desperate moan as your body lost itself in the pleasure. Your climax hit you like a wave of electricity, and with one last gasp, it finally faded away.

Gabriel wasn’t done though, his hand fumbling with your shirt, leaving your breasts exposed to the cold air now. He took each of them in turn, kissing and licking them until you felt yourself being pulled under again.

You found yourself biting your lip to suppress the lewd noises about to leave your mouth, and your hands found its way to his pants. You let out a satisfied groan when you felt his erect cock in your hands, guiding it inside you.

As he entered your wet pussy, you both let out a moan of pleasure. With that entrance alone, you would've came right on the spot.

But Gabriel kept going, his thrusts becoming more and more desperate.

You could feel yourself close to orgasm, your body shaking in anticipation. Gabriel picked up the pace as he felt you tensing up, and with a few more thrusts you were both at the edge.

“M’gonna cum! P-Please let me cum!” Your cries were desperate, and it didn’t take long for Gabriel to grant your wish.

"Come on baby, let go," he breathed heavily into your ear. You obliged his request and it did exactly what he wanted. Your body shook and tightened as the pleasure coursed through your veins, and soon you were moaning out loud.

Your loud moan was cut off by his hand, muffling the pleasurable noises bubbling out your mouth.

Gabriel's thrusts were frantic and erratic, his cock twitching inside you as both of your bodies were shaking. You could feel him getting closer and closer to orgasm, his breathing becoming more labored with each passing second, and you knew that he was almost there.

"Shit... Shit... Fuck!" Gabriel groaned as he came inside of you, the feeling making you more full. He pulled out, and you could feel his cum spilling out of you and it only added to the pleasure that was radiating through your body.

Now, you both were recovering from your post-orgasmic state, fixing your clothes as if nothing happened.

Though both of you were silent, there was an undeniable feeling of satisfaction in the air, one that only came from shared pleasure and love. You looked into each other’s eyes and smiled, knowing that what just happened was so much more than physical. It was a connection, honest and pure, that could only be experienced through the love between two people.

“I would do it again, y’know?” Gabriel said, a smirk gracing his face.

"Absolutely not," You said, rolling your eyes.

But you both knew that it was a lie. There was no way either of you would turn down this moment again.

You got down from the table, your knees wobbling as you tried to keep yourself steady. Lastly, you gave him a kiss on the cheek, smiling.

"See ya, Gabe." You said, winking at him before walking away.

Gabriel smiled as he watched you walk away,

his cum oozing down your leg.

[rotandguts]

✶ ┄ CRAZY TOGETHER

danny (evil dead rise) x fem!reader

summary: during a quiet lull on that tumultuous night, danny realises this may be one of the last few moments he'll ever spend with his best friend.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ mdni, nsfw, sexual content, masturbation (fem receiving), mentions of loss of virginity, mentions of panic attacks, possession and death. praise kink if you squint, bittersweet best friends to lovers. mentions of underaged drinking.

A/N: helllooooo, so this is my first ever fic on this blog wowowowowow i'm nervous. i hope you all like it bc i am DOWN BAD for this mfer. pls let me know what you think!! DANNY IS 18 IN THIS.

publishing date ―  may 17th, 2023 |  © rotandguts

✶

Through all the horror and dread that had inevitably arisen from the events of the past few hours, Danny would argue that despite the demonic presence lurking in the hallway - it was the guilt of his own actions that was currently feasting on his soul.

The noises from beyond the bolted door of apartment 85 had grown to a momentary halt, the initial attack keeping everyone still alive on edge. Bridget was in the living room temporarily calming her younger sister Kassie with promises of a doctor coming to help their mother, hesitancy evident within her voice as she struggled to believe the words coming from her own mouth. Her wound on her cheek - as much as she had tried to ignore it - was starting to ache. Beth had been raiding the apartment for something to help her hand that the quick relief of duct tape was unable to provide.

And all this because he found that stupid fucking book.

The thing that was making the empty sick feeling in his gut feel like a stab wound of his own, was your lingering presence in the corner of his room.

You were here because of him. Regardless of the book or not, if he hadn’t insisted you come over that night for pizza you would be sitting across the city in the comfort of your own home right now. You could’ve been with your family when the earthquake happened. Fuck, they don’t even know if you’re alive right now.

Beth could now be heard stomping around all the windows in the apartment, shouting to anyone that could hear her that they needed help.

“What the fuck are we gonna do, Dan?” Your timid voice snapped him from his internal ongoing panic attack. His gaze, still concerned, softened when you turned around to look at him. It had been the first time you’d spoken in a long while, your voice providing an almost immediate comfort to the blonde boy. He began biting his nails with furrowed brows, a habit you’d usually chastise him for.

“I don’t know.” He whispered, eyes still on you. Your hands were trembling. Your hands were fucking trembling because of him, the thought led him unable to look you in the eyes momentarily. Tears began to form as you clenched your fists, trying to fight the breathless in your chest as it began to truly sink in how much shit you were in. Your phone had long been out of battery, with Danny dropping his in the vault where he'd found that book. Neither of you had been able to comprehend the necessity of the devices a mere few hours ago.

You were both essentially isolated from the world as you knew it.

Danny sunk onto the bed, sitting upright with wide eyes and quick breaths. You couldn’t bare to see him like this. Sure, was there a part of you that was totally pissed off at him for tempting fate with that old vinyl? Of course. But hell, the worst thing you’d been expecting was tetanus, not satan herself cooking eggs in the kitchen.

You approached his hunched over figure, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He still can’t look you in the eyes.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You spoke with the same hesitance as Bridget in the connecting room. Danny was grown up enough to know otherwise, and yet still for a brief moment took solace in your words.

The mattress sinks beside him and when he turns you’re looking at him through wide, concerned eyes. Your clasped hands are still shaking, despite your best efforts to stop them.

His own hand hovers over them. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding when he finally clasps your hands with his.

Eyes connect in the moment, his own drop briefly to look at your lips. They’re a little bloody from you biting them. Your tongue skates across them, letting the metallic taste fill your mouth. The smell leaking through the damp walls of the apartment itself after the bloodbath caused by Ellie outside.

You might both die tonight, he thinks. This could be it. All those years of friendship over because of him. In fact, he thinks it might be even worse if he survives and you don’t, because he’d be haunting the earth still searching for you at every corner in his life. He considers it for a brief moment, mentally punishing himself with twisted thoughts for the hundredth time that night.

Danny’s stomach drops at the thought of the immense unsaid in your friendship. Every lingering gaze and hand hold, every hushed secret and late night embrace under covers. He lived for those moments, but it was starting to dawn on him that they may remain just that. Fleeting moments of will-they-won’t-they peppering your decade long friendship, the what ifs of tomorrow darkening overnight.

He thinks about the first time he knew he loved you. It was your tenth birthday, a milestone. Your mom had intended on throwing you a lavish party and inviting all the kids in class with the little money she’d had. You’d never been one for showing off or making a big fuss and insisted you just wanted Danny there. The night was spent huddled together in fancy dress costumes, he was a pirate and you were a princess, telling each other spooky stories from the safety of the pillow fort your parents had helped build. He wished this nightmare they were currently experiencing was just that, a spooky story told under the flashlight lit fort.

He could still remember the close proximity you both sat in. The quiet, different from the buzzing playground, had allowed him the opportunity to see you up close. There was something in your words that made his heart beat faster, and when your bright eyes lingered on him while telling your stories he knew deep down that he wanted you to look at him like that for the rest of his life.

You were looking at him like that now.

“Do you remember that night we got home from Oscar’s party?” Your voice was barely a whisper, he almost thought he had made it up in his head. All of a sudden he was very aware of just how close you now were.

Oscar, a classmate and barely a friend, grew up in the richer part of the city. Everyone jumped for a chance to go to his parties for his large pool and the flowing liquor, you had both jumped at the opportunity.

“Yeah.” Danny responded after a beat, still taking the opportunity to inspect your face.

That night you had partaken in your usual drunk hand holding and cuddling, nothing too different from what you’d do sober but with an added possessiveness. You had danced with him like you wanted everyone to watch you together, to know that you were his and he was yours. In those moments, lips had lingered for moments too long at ears and mouths. But ultimately, the night ended with your usual walk home.

If Ellie, Danny’s mom, had known you both weren’t tucked safely in bed in your house she would’ve called a search party to track you down through every nook and cranny in the city. Luckily, you both ended your night in bed by 4am.

“Do you remember what you asked me?” Danny spoke again after a short moment of silence. You were looking at the floor now, your feet occasionally grazing his.

“Yeah.”

“Why haven’t you ever kissed me, Danny?” You asked, he thought you were teasing him but you showed no signs of mocking. Pensive, you rolled to face him. He was frozen in place. The lights were out in your room and your bodies, undressed to different extents that you were both familiar with during an after party sleepover, radiating an addictive warmth that made him want to hold on to you skin to skin.

“I didn’t know that was something you wanted.” His fists were clenched, he was still waiting for this to be a big joke.

“I want it.” The light from the moon illuminated some of your face. He licked his lips.

“Why didn’t we like, ever talk about it after?” If tonight was it, he needed to know. He needed to tell her. He’d rather she hate him and be alive and know than be dead and have the wasted opportunity follow him forever.

“I was scared, I guess - I thought you didn’t like it.” You shrugged.

Soft lips on your own, hands gripping your waist under covers. You’re using all of your self control to not grind yourself into him. The only evidence left of your night together were various lilac bruises scattered on your necks. But neither of you spoke about it. So it was never brought up.

“I liked it.” For the first time tonight since the earthquake, Danny softly smiled. Your eyes lit up, returning the smile to him.

“You never said anything-“

“Neither did you!” He countered, the smile giving away that he wasn’t actually angry. You smirked and rolled your eyes, “Touché.”

As much as it embarrassed you to admit at a time like this, your thighs were pressed together at the thought of you and him that night. Both of you had been virgins prior to the encounter

His left hand tangled through your hair as lips danced, you can still remember how you thought you had a temperature from the summer heat and the sweat coating you both. From his gentle, wordless persuasion of a soft push, you were on your back and his frame was on top pressing into you. By instinct, your legs wrap around his waist and pull him in. His hips grinding to your core, it’s so messy and quick but you can barely think because his other hand is traveling to your thigh to pull you in even closer.

He breaks away from the kiss to trace his thumb across your jaw and your swollen lips. Eyes blown out and wide, jaw slack at the sight of him. You’re spread out under him, the material of your crop top and shorts seemingly oh-so thin now that you’re in this position. Your tongue appears to softly lick the digit of his thumb, his eyes almost rolling back at the sensation. He can feel your thighs clench together around him, seeking a temporary relief from the throbbing between them.

He thinks he might die if he can’t feel it, if only for a second.

Removing the thumb from your mouth, your face immediately portrays your disappointment with a slight pout. Danny lightly smirks, lowering himself down again face to face with you. He reaches down to your thigh, trailing the inside of your leg.

“Can I feel you?”

“I think I’ve been thinking of that night every day since it happened.” He admitted, soft smile lingering. You could feel something stir inside you. Here he was, your best friend, in his oversized shirt and silver chain. He ran his hand through his hair. “I dunno. I just know that I can’t stop thinking about it. And you.” Danny continues.

There was a fucking demon outside the apartment door and quite frankly all you could think about was how badly you wanted that silver chain in your mouth.

Your hand reaches for his jaw, which grows slack at your touch, his gaze seemingly possessed by the thought of you. The summer night heat from that encounter stirred inside of you again.

“I think I’m in love with you.” Apprehensive, you continue to trace your thumb over his cheek, until following his jaw and lips just like he had done that night. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long while.”

He was hypnotised under the touch.

“I love you too. I’ve always loved you. You’re my best friend, man.” Danny felt like fucking crying and you could tell through his voice. Was this a dream? Was that demon back to taunt him for all the time wasted?

He felt consumed by you, like in this moment his purpose was to do anything he could to make it all better. He leaned in to finally press a kiss on your lips, slow and still hesitant. You chase him for another when he pulls away, noses still connected and eyes closed tight.

You wanted to stay like this forever. His fingers laced with the hair behind your ear, grabbing a section and softly pulling. The involuntary moan that left your lips sent a shiver through him, he wanted more, more, more. Your neck was on display for him to reach down and attack with sloppy kisses and light teasing bites. He pressed himself against you, moving your back flat onto the mattress. His lips and tongue messy with your own, clashing to remedy the thirst for each other. Danny’s thigh pressing against your covered core, subconsciously leading you to grind against him.

“Danny, please-” When you were saying things like that, knowing that you didn’t know how much time you even had left together, he had to comply. It had felt so natural, it almost made him feel that guilty feeling again. Why hadn’t they just been doing this all along?

Lifting your skirt to expose the wet lace of your underwear, he asked the same question he did last summer.

“Can I feel you?”

Without hesitation you nodded, guiding his hands through the waistband. “Shit,” He paused for a second, raising his fingers back up to his mouth, spitting on them before returning them to their previous position.

The electric feeling of him on her clit, foreheads pressed together and eyes connected could make anyone forget about the horrors happening beyond the sanctuary of the doors to his room. His fingers filling you, curling and strumming to a syncopated beat, reacting only to your stirring beneath him.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet babe,” He was amazed at the feeling itself, your slick softness. You choked out a gasp, you groping him in an attempt to give him the same ineluctable pleasure he was giving you. He was too preoccupied with you to worry about anything he might be feeling, not when he was the one that got you in this situation. And besides, hovering over you when you looked this fucking good with his fingers stuffed inside you, that was more than enough for him.

“You’re so good, such a good boy.” He quietly whines at your words, pressing rough kisses to your neck again.

You tug his hair back to grant yourself a better look at him. His other hand wrapped around your neck, not restricting your breathing but still lightly grabbing it. When he could tell you were about to make a loud noise, the same hand swiftly moved to cover your mouth. Your eyes wide with his, silently watching each other desperate to moan.

The silver chain resting on your chest, its cold metal grounding you in the moment. “So fuckin’ pretty,” He murmured, still so preoccupied with the feeling of filling you.

“Needed you for so long Dan,” He bites his lip as his pace grows quick, your fingers finally finding their way around the chain that was taunting you all night.

“Thought about you every night. Couldn’t stop thinking about how fuckin’ wet you were.” It was true, in the shame of their last encounter he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. Not when he’d been thinking about it for half his life. “Still so so wet baby.”

Looking at his arms, his tattoos and veins. The way they moved in and out of you, the glint in his eyes as he watched his own work. The overwhelming view and feeling lead to the inescapable wave. “Fuck, Dan, I’m gonna-”

And with that, he holds you tight as you hit your orgasm. Your hands fly to his hair and shoulders, trying to remain grounded as your back arches. “Fuckfuckfuck-” You try your hardest to whisper, but your heart is pounding and all you can feel is the dizzying sweetness of Danny all around you. You have to remind yourself that this is real, you’re real.

He watches you, your heavy breathing providing the soundtrack to the moment. He pressed a light kiss to the top of your breast that was on show from the top you were wearing, before moving back up to place a kiss on your lips. Lying beside you, staring into your eyes with a warmth you’d always thought was unimaginable but realising that it had always been there. It has always been him.

So for that moment, you just lay there. And yeah, there was still so much unsaid regarding their long friendship. But for now, in the uncertainty of the night, they’d managed to say enough. For the first time since finding that book, Danny would feel optimistic about the future, despite all the shit going on with his mom. For a second it felt like they could really do this, they could really be fine. If only they could make it to tomorrow, then everything else could be resolved. He could apologise to Bridget, he could ask you out on a real date. You could let your parents know you were alive, you could fix the mistakes of last summer and go all the way again with Dan instead of pretending it never happened.

Unfortunately, as optimistic as they currently were, tomorrow would not come for either of them.

[romanarose]

Logan Howlett x disordered eating reader

Some thoughts I had with Logan after reading this lovely imagine and having a tough time in recovery the last few days

Cw eating disorders. This is more focused on anorexia but if anyone wants thought on Logan with a bulimic reader just send an ask!!! Or any Logan Howlett asks 🥰

As a reminder everyone’s experience is different!!! No one’s disorder is the same. This is just based on what I know

Logan isn’t gonna pick up on an eating disorder right away, but he’s gonna notice the disordered eating. When you first start dating he’s going to think you just eat light. He’s not stupid, he’ll notice you don’t finish your foot or eat small portions.

At first, once you are comfortable with each other, he’s going to think that it’s about something with him. He remembers seeing some stupid clip or tweets or something about guys not liking girls who finish their plates or eat big portions.

He’s gonna bring it up at dinner like oh you know I don’t care about that incel shit right? Dicks like that probably aren’t going on dates in the first place.

Which of course he means well and of course it’s nice to have the reassurance he doesn’t listen to Andrew Tate, but it has the opposite effect. Now that you know he’s noticed it, you become more secretive. After years of hiding an ED you’re pretty good so you get away with it for a while.

Next Logan is gonna have a bit of concern when he notices how much you work out. He’s going to try and tell you that he’s not trying to control what you eat, but he really thinks you should be getting more protein from food, not just powders since you’re working out.

You thank him, and proceed to panic that he’s onto you

It’s not until he takes you out to a super nice pasta place that he realizes something is wrong. There’s no way you worked all day, worked out, came home and waiting for reservations and had this late dinner only to have a few bites.

Logan thinks you’re sick, wants you to go to a doctor. When he says “well what other reason could there be for you to not eat“ he finally connect the dots.

It’s gonna be confusing to Logan because he think you’re just to beautiful but he’s also been alive long enough enough to know that just telling a person he thinks they are beautiful doesn’t always do the trick. He’s never been with someone with an eating disorder, not that he knew anyway, but this isn’t his first rodeo with someone with body image issues.

He’s going to take it easy. He’s going to try extra hard to make you feel beautiful and attractive and loved.

I won’t lie and say oh yeah Logan is gonna try and get you into therapy. He’s not. I don’t see him as WOO HOOOOOO THEREPY type. Correct if I’m missing something lol

But if you bring it up, if you think that it’s a good thing for you he’s going to support you and hold your hand the whole way…. Even if that means in-patient.

He’s gonna listen to the doctor because his personal pride and guilt over not being able to fix you himself isn’t more important than you getting better. He’s going to do what he needs to do to be a supportive person.

Logan loves you and he’s going to see you though this, through every relapse and bad day.

[incorrect-riordanverse]

finally reading tsats here are my live thoughts (spoilers, obviously):

i’m so excited because some pages are darkly decorated and its so cool. still don’t vibe with the title though (the sun IS a star and its peeving me)

why are we talking about dating darth vader 😟 where are we rn (anakin is a yes, but DARTH VADER???)

maybe i’m too old but the jokes are not funny 😭

“this whole place feels like my soul. empty and dark. dark as the pit of the underworld.” <- i don’t care if he’s joking nico would never say thissss 🙏😭 we’re only 10 pages in but please stop butchering my fav character he’s not himselffff i am cringing so bad

i know i’m being dramatic but if they do nico dirty in this book i’m going to end it all

oh my god i don’t think i’ve thought about the words “significant annoyance” in so long. bringing back good memories for sure.

i can tell which parts were written by riordan and which parts were written by oshiro. i don’t think their voices are blending very well together…

also, maybe it’s because it’s the start of the book and they’re trying to familiarise new readers quickly with the characters but it feels like they’re making nico the caricature of ‘emo and shadow and ebony darkness dementia raven way 🥀⛓️🖤’ and will the caricature of ‘happy and sunshine and blonde and flower gleam and glow ☀️🌈🫧’ and i usually like this dynamic when it’s not blatantly pointed out every other page. i have faith they’ll show more complexity than this later on though. future yan will let me know by the end. (future yan here, im not at the end but the characterisation def does get more complex thank gods)

oh ok so it is bob the titan

since when was nico’s actual name niccolo??? how did i forget this detail??

“you have to listen if not you’ll share my fate.” “ominous much?” <- ok he’s finally himself again guys it’s all good

the one-sided beef nico has with percy will never not be funny

“cookie monster appeared over the mouth of the jar, reached inside and gobbled up nico like the chocolate-chip cookie he was.” <- nevermind i’ve gone back to hating this book again

“what was one straight boy when you spent your whole life longing for the impossible?” <- i’m reminded of that time a few years back where everyone made ‘having an unrequited crush on percy’ nico’s whole fanon personality, so i’m glad they addressed this somewhat. this boy has been through so much and people really thought crushing on percy was the biggest thing to focus on about ‘nico angst.’

“we made a mistake. you have to fix it.” <- call me a red flag but if i was nico i would do anything and everything to not go. i would medicate myself so highly on sleeping pills that i can’t dream (doctor bf can go kick rocks). i would track percy and annabeth down and haul their asses into tartarus instead to do it. and if i had to go i would only go in to kill bob myself for sending me those traumatic ass nightmares. no thx. bro willingly jumped in himself and now wants me to save him. nuh uh.

not cupid being will 😭 its like his aphrodite 😭 i am not well.

they always have a really good and emotionally moving scene and they ruin it with a dumb joke. let it be heavy 👏👏

something’s really fishy and i have a feeling that it might not be bob calling for him

if this whole “grumpy ball of darkness” thing continues i will actually lose it

you can’t tell me the percabeth pep talk was actually needed. i will forgive it because i miss them though

im sensing tension in the gap between nico’s connection to the underworld and his relationship with will and i’m here for ittttt. give me the dramaaa

who is the gorgyra girl and why is she in their business sm?

oh shit a will solace pov??? christmas came early 🙏

nevermind that whole nightmare sequence was so fucked up 😭😭

somebody HELP HIM i never thought we would get will angst (nico angst fs, but will???)

DONT JUMP IN THE STYX PLEASE

SOMEBODY TELL HIM HE’S HELPFUL OMG

nico strangling epiales in his sleep is so fucking cool he’s literally HIM he’s literally THAT GUY

[kwisatzworld]

List of Valentino Rossi books and documentaries:

inspired by @pgaslys list of marc’s docs

📚 Books

What If I Had Never Tried It [English/Italian/Spanish/German/Japanese/Chinese, etc.]: Vale’s only autobiography to date, translated into a lot of languages (so many that it’s hard to keep count). The English edition is notoriously rough - think spelling mistakes and some lost-in-translation moments. Despite this, yellow fans absolutely shouldn’t miss out on this gem. Published in 2006, during Vale’s zenith with five consecutive championships under his belt, the book radiates his happiness and confidence. The narrative is casual, with chapters loosely connected, but you will still find pleasure in reading this book.

MotoGenius: the Valentino Rossi biography by Mat Oxley: Oxley remains my all-time favorite Rossi author! Initially published years ago, the latest edition is available on Kindle. It’s a treasure trove of Vale anecdotes and Oxley’s unique insights, offering a glimpse into how Vale captivated his generation.

The Valentino Rossi Files: Everything I’ve ever written about VR by Mat Oxley: Available on Kindle, this collection (in two parts) encapsulates all the articles Oxley wrote about Vale for magazines and newspapers before joining Motor Sport Magazine.

Valentino Rossi: The Definitive Biography by Stuart Barker: A comprehensive biography of Vale, chronologically organized.

Valentino Rossi: Il Dio del Motociclismo by Fabio Fagnani [Italian]: Not recommended as the author’s fan-like admiration making it read more like a love letter than a biography. The only saving grace is the interview with Aldo Drudi.

Valentino Rossi: All His Races by Mat Oxley [English/German/Japanese/Serbian]: Chronicles every race of Vale’s career, enriched with exclusive interviews.

🎥 Documentaries

When asked about a movie about himself, Vale said, “If it’s a bad movie, I’d rather it didn’t exist.” He holds a similarly cautious stance towards documentaries, and has never personally produced a documentary about himself, though perhaps that might change at some point in the future.

Faster (2003) : Premiered at the Festival de Cannes during MotoGP’s golden era, this documentary intriguingly portrays the rivalry between Vale and Max Biaggi.

The Doctor, the Tornado, and the Kentucky Kid (2006) : Focuses on the 2005 season, especially the US Grand Prix, you can see the beautiful yellow livery of Yamaha’s 50th anniversary.

Fastest (2011) : A sequel to Faster.

Hitting the Apex (2015) : Arguably the best MotoGP documentary out there. Vale and Marco riding into the sunset to ‘Wish you were here’ is a poignant moment.

Valentino Rossi: The Doctor (2016) : Produced by Monster Energy, primarily illustrating how Vale expanded his empire step by step.

Racing Together (2017): MotoGP history isn’t complete without its greatest icon, Vale features for about 15 minutes.

Valentino’s Secret Room: Inside the Doctor’s Hidden Archive (2020) : Produced by Dainese, revealing Vale’s personal collection.

Ruta 46 – Ruta 93: El camino de dos mitos (2021) : Produced by DAZN España, unfortunately I haven’t seen it yet – if you have, let me know how it tells the tale.

Tales of Valentino (2021) : A nine-episode documentary series produced by Dorna, showcasing different aspects of Vale’s career through nine significant races.

RiVale | Valentino Rossi as Told by His Rivals (2021) : Produced by DAZN Italia featuring Vale’s main rivals (except Marc), sharing their stories with him.

Rossi | BT Sport Documentary on the Career of MotoGP Icon, Valentino Rossi (2022) : Produced by BT Sport following Vale’s retirement, highlighted by Suzi Perry’s captivating hosting style.

MotoGP Unlimited (2022) : No need for a lengthy introduction – it’s probably already been watched by everyone by now.

[radiant-reid]

I’m always so excited about your blurbs and then upset that they are just blurbs cause they are mostly so good!😂 anyways maybe you could do one on reader being insecure about being younger than Spencer (like 10years or something) and the team maybe even adding to that feeling accidentally? Idk like angsty ending in comfort ?

I know !! Promise to have a full length fic out soon 🫶🏼

Spencer was never shy to show you off. In fact he suggested you meet his friends before you brought it up.

An evening at Rossi’s was the perfect time to do it. Relaxed, informal with really good food and company. As Spencer promised, everyone took an instant liking to you. From how funny you are to how interesting you are, he assured you on the drive over that there wasn’t anything they wouldn’t love, even your insecurity: the age gap. And he was right. You were grateful for their warm, welcoming spirit.

He watches you standing outside, wine glass in hand as you chat to the girls, from the kitchen. What he doesn’t hear is the conversation which started with Penelope, half drunk, talking about how perfect a couple you and Spencer make.

“Without coming across as rude.” Emily starts. “How old are you?”

“I’m turning 27 next month.” You answer, not taking her question the wrong way. You’re just grateful she asked instead of looking you up.

JJ’s offhanded comment concerns you more. “And Spence is 37 this year.”

You gulp down a sip of wine, nodding. It’s not a secret, the age difference. He doesn’t look his age, but he definitely doesn’t have the babyface he had at 27.

“So you hadn’t even started elementary when he was in high school.” Tara jokes, mostly talking about the fact Spencer was in high school way to early.

“I was a baby.” You realize. How you hadn’t before confuses you, but he was 12 when he went to college which would have made you less than 2 when he was in high school.

JJ doesn’t help by adding onto it. “And you were only starting elementary by the time he had his first doctorate.”

“And he would have been just starting the BAU when you had your first boyfriend.” Emily continues.

Unsure of what to do and increasingly insecure, you make a joke. “Nope. I started young at 9.”

Thankfully, they stop after that, moving onto a conversation about first loves and heartbreaks, but the heart-sinking feeling keeps building inside you.

You’re quiet on the way home. It’s how Spencer knows something is wrong, and he’s not going to sit there the whole 15 minute drive home knowing something’s wrong.

“What’s bothering you, my love?” He asks, swoon-worthy as always.

You consider lying, but what good would that do you. “Just- we were talking about how you’re a little older than me.” His hand tightens in yours, knowing it’s a sore spot. “And it made me… worried.”

“Did someone say something?” He checks. He loves his friends, and he really doubts they would, but there would be some serious conversations to be had if they made you uncomfortable.

“Nothing at all.” You assure him. “I just hadn’t thought about how big the difference is when you look at it related to us as kids.”

It’s not hard for him to do the math, and compare where you both were during certain years. “But I’m not an 12 year old dating a 2 year old.” He reminds you. “Or an 18 year old prying on an 8 year old. Does our age gap make you uncomfortable?”

You shake your head like you’ve done the other times he’s asked. “Not at all. I mean, I know you’re the one for me, and I don’t care how old you are. It’s not even really that bad.”

He nods in agreement. “It’s not when we’re this old which is why we’re dating now, not back then.”

You bring your connected hands up so you can kiss the back of his palm. “Thanks for calming me down.”

“It’s my honor as your boyfriend.” He assures you, flashing you the smile reserved for you.

[griffonsgrove]

Haiii!! These headcanons have been amazing!!! Could I perhaps ask for a Dr.Flug X Reader where they're a famous popstar, please?? tysm!! <3

Dr. Flug X Popstar!Reader

a/n: eeee of course I can write this!! This is a really cute idea, I hope you enjoy!! Im working my way through a few of your guy's requests so bare with me! I plan on maybe doing a few drabbles or headcanons for some other fandoms within the following days so keep a look out for that!

fandom: Villainous/Villainos words: 1026 cw: none! just super cute fluff!

(PLATONIC):

Now that you were starting to gain more and more popularity amongst people, you had been wanting to expand your musical talent to all reaches of life, whether it be good or bad.

Being a famous popstar made it easy to get connections, thankfully, and a little birdie had told you about the infamous ‘Hat Island” that was rumored to be crawling with villains, owned by none other ‘Lord Black Hat’ himself.

You were by no means a saint, let alone a hero, and thought that everyone deserved to have the joy of music, even those of lower status. So what do you do? Schedule a meeting with the most feared villain known to man!

Imagine Flug's surprise when he opens the door to see you standing there.

The man about damn near faints on the spot. A famous super-star, standing right in front of him? AND they're cute?? Oh boy.

He had heard of you when Demencia would loudly blast her music from her boombox, Obnoxious yes, but he would absentmindedly find himself humming your tunes or tapping his foot to the beat while he worked in the lab, much to his dismay.

Eventually that led to him listening to you in his (very little) free time, and he, actually?? Enjoyed?? It??

Now, the tricky part was going to be trying to convince Black Hat to let you hold a concert on his island, This old man  intimidated tf out of you, if looks could kill you’d be dead before you even stepped into his office. But, you tried to remain confident.

You offer to pay him for compensation, and give him a small percentage of the profits from your show. How can he refuse that offer? It’s money! He reluctantly agrees to your proposition, and you sign a temporary contract.

For extra gratitude you offer him and his henchman VIP tickets for your show, Black Hat scowls, saying something along the lines of “that frivolous techno music gives me a headache..” But! He doesn't deny his henchmen going!

Of course you don't leave without the eldritch putting the fear of god into you.

Demencia vigorously shakes Flug in excitement, when she finds out they have VIP tickets to your performance, for once the doctor’s eyes light up.

The night of your performance happened to be one of his best memories, he was absolutely enthralled by your singing, and he got to witness all up close!

When he comes backstage to meet you after the show he nearly faints again. You thought he was kind of cute for that really.

You excitedly greet him and his group and chat for a while. Answering questions and sharing stories, you actually find out the two of you have a lot in common! As the evening wraps up you pull him aside privately to give him your number, if he ever wanted to chat. HE NEARLY FAINTS AGAIN.

(ROMANTIC):

That’s how you two began talking. You texted frequently, excitedly sharing each other's interests. Sometimes you’d snap a photo before or after a performance, and he’d send you pictures of his latest invention, or his model airplane collection.

It’s actually you, that ends up asking him out on a date. Through a video call, his reaction was adorable, he looked almost in disbelief but dumbly nodded his head to your confession.

The both of you lead busy lives, so you carefully plan out when you can visit and when he can get the time off. (He sucks up to Black Hat for an entire week).

You settle on something quiet and not far away, you didn’t want to be bombarded by fans or paparazzi during your small visit. It’s at a small cafe, Flug claimed it made the best coffee he’s ever had.

He watches all of your shows btw. Man’s is committed. Whether that be streaming the concert on his phone while he works or going to your shows/events in person whenever you visit the island again. It’s also a plus that he enjoys your music!

You singing to him, ouGHHHH. He’s starstruck every time, entranced by your voice. He really thinks of you as an angel, maybe a siren.

Love songs!! You write several dedicated to him while your dating, he nearly cries when you reveal this to him. Who am I kidding? He totally cried.

He makes you cute little gadgets to make your life a little easier. Like a custom-made microphone for your shows, you use it every time <3.

You SPOIL him. You get that bag (pun intended) and you think he deserves to be treated with everything he could possibly want.

If you ever meet 5.0.5 you best believe you’re treating that bear like your own son. He’s such a sweetie, how could you not? And if you sing him little lullabies to help him fall asleep?? Flug’s heart almost bursts out of his chest. How did he get so lucky??

He often wonders how he bagged you (pun intended). He's pretty insecure of himself already, it really is a mystery to him. He almost feels like he doesn't deserve any of it at all. But of course, you see right through his act, and reassure him endlessly.

You both keep the relationship on the downlow, mainly for your sake. He didn't want your reputation to be ruined if the press found out you were dating a notorious supervillain. You had told him you didn't care what the public thought, but he insisted.

There are numerous photos of you on his phone, not in a creepy way though. Most of them are selfies of two of you, or from photoshoots/concerts. He def has you as his screensaver.

You loooove peppering his bagged face with kisses. He gets so flustered it's adorable!! He secretly loves them. If you wear lipstick, you love seeing the aftermath of your kiss attack, his face painted in a lovely shade of red.

Overall, being in a long-distance relationship definitely has its ups and downs, but Flug thinks it’s all worth it, especially for you, he’s willing to give it a try. How romantic.

[icarusredwings]

Hot take-

Spoilers.

More memes below, Plus, Im yappin... AGAIN

The doctor is definitely not Monogamous. No, duh, we know that already.

BUT

Depending on the AU and your imagination, he could infact express his feelings for those he loves in all ways. We have:

Sax x 14 aka

#Retired Time Lords aka #saxten

They literally share a bed in Donna's attic...

And are married but are on the brink of divorce 24/7 .So what if they do nothing but argue? They cuddle sometimes.... while arguing..

But they're in counciling as we speak so not to worry.

(If I had a nickle...)

River x 14

I'm not sure what their any doctor ship name is, but I like to call this #RetiredSong.

He visits her in the computer all the time, and she teases him about remarrying, but he always wears her ring when visiting. They're still married. 14 already cried and asked if she wanted a divorce since he was unfaithful. She laughed at his face and then kissed him. He felt like a fool afterward for even asking.

Melanie x 14 aka

#DoctorDonut seems to fit this well. Or #CarrotDoctor im yet to decide.

They go on casual dates often (but aren't "together together" since the Doc has decided to stop dating humans) especially on holidays, in which Mel doesn't have many people to spend them with. You bet your ass he's showing up at UNIT with flowers on Valentine's Day, and the WHOLE office talks about it. It's THE TEA for daaayyzz. Rosie gets a bit embaressed when ever her uncle shows up to her job just to flirt with her coworker.

Yaz x 14

#Foryaz or #Yazteen

Same with Yaz. He's already apologized to her profusely about everything that's happened and told her that if she ever wants to go out "as a gender non disclosed partnership," he'd be in Donna's backyard. He takes out her for ice cream after break-ups. This time in a car, not in space, though it's still difficult for Yaz to see this wrinkly old married man as the young spunky woman she once knew and was head over heels for. "You tell me if you ever become a woman again, and no secrets this time, yeh?" "Deal."

Rose x 14

#RetiredRoses or just #Timepetals.

While he can't talk to her anymore directly, he dreams of her often and gets almost memory like snipets of himself holding a baby or seeing her cooking in the kitchen. Simple, domestic things. He thinks they're just dreams, but in reality, they're shared dreams between them. Nothing ever, too crazy happens. And they're usually no more than 6-10 seconds of connection. He'll look around, look at the baby in his arms that shares her nose, look up to Rose, and smile. "She's gorgeous." She smiles back. That's it. Short. Tiny. Teasing snipets of what he could have had. These dreams are barely remembered, but when he does, he goes to her fake grave and tells her about them. Leaves Roses and praises her for how much of a good mum she's grown to be.

Meanwhile, Rose revisits Bad Wolf Bay and talks to the ocean, tells her gorgeous baby girl stories. The story of the big bad wolf she once met with two hearts and a big howling blue box. One that saved a piggy instead of killing it. "And then he said wee wee wee all the way home to his mummy and daddy. Speaking of daddy's, where's yours wondered off too this time? Come on. Best go find him, huh?"

Clara x 14

#Osteen or if you really wanna angst, #RetiredRaven

Just the same as Rose, He visits her grave too. Mainly when he needs advice and can't trust to tell anyone else. He comes to the graveyard often to visit various people, but this one is the one he sits at, puts his forehead on, and cries to himself. This is where he goes to vent. If you stand there long enough, you'll hear him beg for her to tell him what to do. "I can't run anymore, Clara! I-.. I just can't.. but.. you told me to - you told me to run, but everyone else is telling me to stay put. Now what!? ... please.. just tell me what to do.." and usually, he will get an epiphany. He thinks it's because she "told him," but in reality, getting all of this out of his system just clears his head enough to think. He still glares at ravens whenever he sees them in the grave yard. Cursing at them. "Haven't you taken enough from me?" It's not the same one, but none the less it infuriates him that the universe rubs it in his face like so.

And so many more. Bassically, if they're still alive and on decent terms, they've been on at least ONE date, if not? He talks to their grave. Hell, he's even let Jack take him to the pub. Just once. (Even though they ended up crying over River, and somehow Jack ended up buttnaked on a table. Let's just say they're not allowed there anymore...)

This is what's in MY head, idc that much if you disagree. Civily debate me, you cowards, he has enough attention and love for everyone, and two hearts is a lot to fill, oh and ofc the TARDIS is a part of this. In a weird.. sentiant.. machine.. kinda way.. It's complicated..

And before anyone comes at me with the ridiculous notion of "Well that's cheating"

THEY ALL KNOW.

So no, it's not. Consensual non monagamy has been a thing since before the beginning of time. The worst thing that happens is Sax gets jealous and tries to kill someone when, in reality, he just wants more attention/to come along too. He may make a shit ton of "gasssp you cheated on me!?" Jokes, but he knows. He's fully aware. Not of every tiny detail, but yes, he does indeed know that his husband is out having lunch with another woman right now, Linda. "How about you stalk your own husband ya nosey bitty before I fuck him myself." - the Master, Probably.

The only thing he really whines about is if 14 is A. Late coming home, B. Doesn't bring him back a treat or C. He doesn't invite him to come along. 70% of the time, the Master says no. It's just the principle of the matter.

And yes, They have rules. Just like any other relationship. Communication is definitely key for everything. Obviously, the Master isn't allowed to come to UNIT, and very rarely does he wish to come with his husband to watch him have a meltdown in a grave yard.

He has, however, came with him a few times to the library and now has a wee crush on her, too. (Who wouldn't?) But 14 doesn't exactly enjoy that the whole time they're bassically gossiping about him, in front of his face.

I call this #Retired Time Lords³

Sax: And then this one time in school-

Doc: Oh god not the academy-

River: YES the academy!

Sax: He slipped and hit his head and- *wheeze* HE WOULDN'T STOP CRYING BECAUSE HE THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO REGENERATE

River: *falls over* 💀

Doc: -_-

As always. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

[effloradox]

i forgot that you existed; dracula.

track one of LOVER

pairing: dracula x f!reader

synopsis: you share dreams of past lives with your soulmate

word count: 3.4k

Your dreams have always been a source of confusion amongst your family. They’ve always been vivid, and almost always been the same. Flashes of dancing in crowded rooms with people wearing extravagant clothing at parties running until way after the clock struck midnight. Your soulmate’s always been the sole person you’ve danced with in the dream, and even if you can’t make out his face, you can tell from the way the other dancers look at him he must be handsome. His presence seems to command the attention of everyone in the room, and if it were to happen in this life then you know you’d be much too nervous to have everyone’s eyes on you to enjoy dancing.

Being able to connect to your soulmate via your dreams has always been a strange system. You get flashes of past lives together but can’t physically see what your soulmate looks like until you reunite with them in this life. You have a few clues; you know that your soulmate’s tall, like over six foot tall, and it seems like in a past life he was rich if your suspicion that the ball you’ve been dancing in every night is in honour of your soulmate.

Your dreams have been getting increasingly darker though, with flashes of things that you can’t quite place but leave you waking up crying or screaming. It’s started to worry your parents when they call to see how you are and it’s clear you’ve not been sleeping. There’s no medicine to suppress soulmate dreams and sleeping tablets leave you feeling trapped in lucid dreams, aware it’s a dream and yet unable to escape to the safety of the waking world.

So far you’ve been to multiple soulmate specialists and they’ve been unable to help with the problem, and you’ve resorted to setting a plethora of alarms through the night, allowing yourself to rest without ever falling into your REM cycle. It’s been worrying your friends, especially Jack, which you’re chalking up to his occupation as a doctor, but if nothing improves then it’s currently your only way to stay sane and rest without having a nightmare. It’s not been particularly helpful in keeping a steady job either, since your permanent exhaustion leaves you with heavy brain fog most days. It’s not been the easiest earning the money for rent, and whilst Jack has assured you that he’s earning enough to cover you for rent for at least a little while, you can’t help but feel bad that more of the financial burden has fallen onto him.

In a way, him offering you a chance to apply for the research program at the Jonathan Harker Foundation feels a bit like a lifeline. You don’t expect to be chosen, so when you get the phone call asking you to come in, you can’t help the surprise that leaks into your tone when you tell the woman on the phone you’ll be ready to head there as soon as possible. Jack was out at a club when you got the call, and you’re not expecting him to be there so you quickly grab a small overnight bag, and wait for the car they’re sending to show up. The journey there is quiet, and you pass the time scrolling Instagram, only stopping when you see a post from Jack’s friend Lucy announcing her engagement. It makes you wince slightly, you know Jack’s had a crush on her forever, you can’t imagine how he’s feeling right now. You send a quick text asking if he’s okay, putting your phone away just as you pull up to the foundation, thanking the driver as you get out of the car and head inside. Signing in for the process is easy enough, it’s mainly just a nurse asking if your medical records are up to date whilst you change into a pair of scrubs. The last thing she gives you before sending you on your way is a small lanyard that has your blood type on before you’re led into a small auditorium by another member of staff.

The presentation starts not too long after you’ve sat down, and the video of the recent exploration of the Demeter fills the projection screen. There’s only a handful of people sitting, maybe 20 at most, and the video is only disturbed when some more people walk in. You turn slightly, and are surprised to see Jack walk in with Dr Van Helsing. The woman giving the presentation continues after a small interlude, and then the video shifts to them finding a coffin that had been on the Demeter. You lose interest slightly as she talks about how unusual it was that the coffin was unchanged after over a century, and your attention only shifts back when they open the case and you get a full look at the body stored within it.

The frozen body of Count Dracula shown on screen immediately demands your full attention, and you can’t help but feel like you know that face. You can’t shake the feeling that he’s familiar though in what way you wouldn’t be able to say. The woman giving the presentation continues on to say about how well preserved the body was, and the speech only takes a shift when the diver on the screen places a hand too close to the teeth of Dracula. The water is immediately filled with blood and the video pauses on the image of the diver’s finger caught in the mouth of the Count.

“The body was not preserved. Dracula was, in fact, alive, though dormant. Apparently, in some restorative coma in which he would have remained if I hadn’t been stupid enough to feed him. So, in case you’re wondering, vampires bite.” The presenter lifted her arm at the end of her speech, showing off a cast on her arm that she had concealed until then. A few of the people around you let out a nervous chuckle, but the sombre mood returns as the presenter continues to speak. “You need to know what you’re signing up for. We will keep you safe but this isn’t just about giving blood. It’s not just another student drug trial, there is a reason it is better paid. Now, you will have controlled exposure to a vampire, are we clear?” A general murmur of agreement passes through the other volunteers in the room, and the presenter seems to look closely at you all for any signs of hesitation or regret. When she is apparently satisfied, she continues with her lecture.

“Obviously at this point, having triggered his revivification, we opted for a tactical retreat. We resealed the box so nothing could interfere with the process, and we monitored from the shore. It took Dracula another ten hours to fully revive and, of course, we were waiting for him on the beach. He was brought here shortly after, but not before he had killed someone. We are not telling you this to scare you, but you have to be aware of all of the risks that can come from being part of the programme.”

“How can you guarantee our safety?” The voice comes from behind you, and most heads in the room turn to face the man who spoke.

“Dracula is currently sealed in a solid steel and glass prison cell, above which is a roof that retracts and allows sunlight inside which we can direct to keep him in place. You will only enter the room when the sun is up so if he were to act out in any way, the sunlight would immediately put a stop to it. There are also multiple armed guards stationed within the room at any given time. There will be risk, of course, but we will do everything in our power to keep you safe. Does that answer your question?” The man who spoke up nodded and the presenter leant back on the table. “Does anyone else have any questions?”

“Does he speak English?”

“He does. When he spoke briefly to Doctor Van Helsing, he said that the blood he consumes allows him to access memories or skills that the person feeding him possesses. When I fed him, he learned how to speak English.” The presenter answers a few more questions before more researchers come in and escort all the volunteers out. You’re quick to make your way to Jack’s side as they ask you all to separate according to your blood types, leading the various groups down a maze of corridors leading deeper into the facility.

“You certainly took your time getting here.”

“I wasn’t expecting to get the phone call at - in the morning.” With everything that had happened, you’d forgotten that Jack had been on a night out when you’d been picked up. You winced slightly at the lapse in your memory.

“How’re you feeling? I saw Lucy announce her engagement on Instagram.” You watch as Jack’s expression falters slightly at the reminder of the night’s bombshell and you can’t help but reach out and squeeze his hand. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. Probably for the best. We never would’ve worked out anyway.”

“You don’t know that, Jack.” The smile Jack sends your way is full of sadness, you both know that he’s thought the silhouette in his dreams was Lucy for the longest time. You can’t even begin to imagine how it feels to find out that they aren’t destined to be together the way Jack has hoped for. You try to change the subject over to how well Zoe’s looking, all things considered and, once the conversation is on steadier ground, it’s easy to pass well over an hour in the waiting room chatting quietly with your friend until a man in a lab coat walks into the room, a clipboard in hand.

“Miss (Y/N)? We’re ready for you now.” You feel the eyes of everyone in the room land on you as you stand slowly. You try to hide it, but you can feel your legs shaking slightly with anxiety. You feel Jack squeeze your hand gently before letting go as you make your way towards the door and leave the other volunteers behind. Whilst they’ve guaranteed your safety, you can’t help but feel like you’re walking towards your own execution. You know you’re finally there when Zoe is standing outside a door waiting for you. She looks much more relaxed than you do, like this is an everyday occurrence for her rather than some freak miracle.

You’re not sure what to expect when you’re led into the holding room for Dracula. It’s been described to you in detail, but it’s still strange walking into the room and seeing the glass prison for yourself. The Count himself is lying down on the cot they provided for him, arms crossed behind his head, and when the door closes behind you, he doesn’t move.

“You’ve brought yet another lamb to slaughter then?” The voice makes you jolt and you hear a quiet chuckle from the cell. “Oh it’s another jumpy one then?”

You can’t help the anxiety on your face as the attendant guides you to the door of the cell. You watch as the guard shifts the sunlight, blocking Dracula from getting to the door as the attendant unlocks it. They give you a slight nudge to encourage you to walk in and you force yourself to take a deep breath before stepping into the cell, listening as the door is closed behind you. The vampire hasn’t moved to get up yet, and, despite the barrier of sunlight separating the two of you, you can’t help but look nervously over to Zoe who’s watching closely from outside.

“Count Dracula, I believe it would be rude for you to ignore your guest. Again.” The vampire let out an exaggerated sigh before moving to stand up.

“I’d hardly call it rude Dr Van Helsing, do you make a habit of looking your food in the eye before you…”

The vampire's words trail off as he finally looks at you. In a second, he’s up on his feet, standing just before the barrier of sunlight. He’s looking at you with a kind of reverence you have only ever seen in your dreams, and things suddenly slot into place in your mind. It’s him. He’s the man who’s been haunting your dreams for as long as you can remember. Time seems to grind to a halt for both of you as your dreams flash through your mind, this time with his face crystal clear in your mind.

You take a step forward without even thinking, working purely on instinct, before a pair of arms are wrapped around you and you're pulled back to the door of the cage. Dracula’s expression shifts from reverence to fury, as he snarls at the person holding onto you. You watched as he moved towards you, seemingly forgetting about the wall of sunlight separating the two of you until it had come into contact with his skin and he instantly recoiled back into the shade, rage still evident on his face. The two of you continue to look at each other even as you’re pulled out of the cage and the door is slammed shut. You realise that the person who pulled you out is Zoe, her face scrunched with fury as she glares at the vampire. She gives you a quick once-over to check that you’re not hurt, frowning at the slightly dazed look you’re sporting. She turns back to the vampire, who’s eyes haven’t left yours.

“What did you do to her?” If he hears Zoe, Count Dracula gives no indication of doing so. He walks towards the wall of the cell to be as close to the two of you as possible. When he next speaks, he ignores Zoe completely, his focus solely on you.

“Well, this is a surprise, isn’t it? After all this time, I assumed you would have passed me by. I have crossed oceans of time to find you, my dear. I suppose I crossed a literal ocean as well.” To Zoe’s credit, she seems to work out what has happened quickly and, once she understands, she’s quick to grab you once again, pulling you back to the door leading to the rest of the facility. You’re not sure if it’s the sheer exhaustion of not having one of your naps or the shock of meeting your soulmate but you can barely find it in you to fight against the harsh grip on your arm, and you allow yourself to be pulled out, keenly aware that Dracula’s voice is getting more aggressive as he yells for Zoe to let go of you. You can still hear him even when you’re halfway down the corridor, Zoe’s grip still acting like a lifeline to a reality that doesn’t seem to make any sense anymore.

Whilst you don’t know Zoe very well, she knows Jack much better than you after all, you know that there’s no way she’ll let you go back in to see Dracula after finding out you’re his soulmate. She’s good enough to get someone to drive you back home so you can try and get some rest and then you're being gently escorted out of the facility and back into the harsh reality of the world. It occurs to you that Jack has no idea about how earth shattering the day has been for you as well as him and you send a text to him letting him know you’ll meet him back at the house and you have news to tell him before he worries about where you’ve gone. It’s all you can do to not fall asleep in the car and when you close your front door you head immediately to your room and all but collapse onto your bed. You set a timer giving yourself an hour to rest and then take a well needed sleep.

It’s quiet when you wake up. It’s never particularly loud in the house, but you’d expect to hear the gentle thrum of the boiler if Jack had come home and turned the heating on, or maybe just the sound of him moving around downstairs but it’s weirdly silent. You’re always groggy when you’ve had a nap (definitely a result of you avoiding any real sleep), so your first port of call is to grab your phone and head downstairs to make yourself a coffee. You make your way slowly down the stairs, checking for any messages. You have two texts; one from Jack, and one from Zoe. The message from Jack says he’ll be home soon and is excited to see you, which is somewhat strange since it was sent almost as soon as you fell asleep and he’s still not back. You finish making your coffee and you take a moment to process the last 24 hours before checking Zoe’s text. Reading it makes your blood run cold.

Dracula has escaped. He took Jack’s phone. We’re sending someone to pick you up.

The implications of the text are unnerving to say the least. You’re not sure if it means that Dracula of all people was the one to reply to your message or he took it after Jack replied to you but you make a mental note to ignore any messages from Jack and only keep in touch with Zoe.

The knocking on the front door makes you jump, cutting through the eerie silence that was dominating the house and pulling you out of your thoughts. You put the empty mug in the sink, pocketing your phone before opening the door. You don’t recognise the man on the other side, and he doesn’t strike you as a scientist. He looks almost nervous for some reason, and you noticed that his hand shook slightly as he shifted his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t quite look you in the eye when he finally looks at you.

“I was sent to collect you.” There’s a small part of your brain that doesn’t trust the man in front of you, but you wouldn’t be surprised if the Zoe had specifically chosen a driver you hadn’t met before so you’re quick to grab your house keys, locking the door behind you and following the man to the car with blacked-out windows that he heads to. The drive is in silence again, and when he pulls up on the drive of a moderately sized house rather than the Harker Foundation, your anxiety spikes immediately. It’s an area you don’t recognise, and it occurs to you that you wouldn’t be able to make your way home unaided.

“I thought I’d be going back to the Foundation.”

“This is a safe house. It’s where I was instructed to drop you off.” You let out a soft acknowledgement, pulling your phone out and sending a message to Zoe that you’re at the safe house before climbing out of the car. You can sense the driver watching you as you walk to the door, testing the handle and letting yourself in when you find it to be unlocked. It’s dark inside, reflecting the setting of the sun outside. You walk into the main room of the house, and your only source of light is a small candle. All the curtains have been drawn and you can’t help but feel like this is some kind of trap. When you hear something shift behind you, you’re quick to turn and you let out a scream when you see the looming figure of Count Dracula standing in the doorway. He doesn’t react to your scream except for a small smile appearing on his face.

“Now, there’s no need to scream, dearest. You know I won’t do anything to harm you.” You back away, immediately feeling like a deer in the headlights. You only stop when you feel the wall against your back and you have nowhere else to go.

“What did you do to Jack?”

“Nothing. He misplaced his phone at the institute, I merely found it and happened upon your number.”

“How did you find where we live?”

“Jack very helpfully had it labelled on his Google Maps.”

“And the man outside?”

“My lawyer. He’s been rather helpful in helping me to adjust to modern living.”

“What do you want with me?”

“I’ve done nothing but dream of you for over a century my dear. I think it’s high time we get to know each other.” The vampire steps towards you, in a move that feels like he’s sealing your fate. In what feels like a recreation of one of your recurring dreams, he stops in front of you, and offers you one of his hands. “May I have this dance?”

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

Anthro!AU. There's no real timeline for this.

Names follow 3 formats. Let's grab... Dovewing!

Dovewing is also called Dove, Miss Wing, and Dove Wing.

Turtle Tail is also called Turtletail, Miss Tail (or Miss T) and Turtle.

Cats like Millie or Snake will sometimes take last names, but highly prefer their single name.

Bramblekit absolutely took a cookie when offered while he was at Frostfur's house, thinking they were chocolate chip, only to get oatmeal raisin. He hated it but was too polite to spit it out.

Snowbird cut Ratscar off from seeing his nespring when she found out about his connections to a cult called The Place of No Stars.

Blossompaw and Briarpaw regularly swam in a river nearby their house, with Bumblepaw on watch for anyone coming who might get them in trouble.

Briarlight also put flame stickers/decals on her wheelchair. She sometimes rotates them out for seasonal stuff, like holiday themed ones. She put a weed sticker on it once for 4/20 and Millie threw a fit over it.

During the nasty custody battle between Goldenflower and Tigerclaw, Swiftpaw told Tigerclaw he never wanted to see him again, he would rather be dead than have his father hold any custody of him.

Smudge regularly visits and babysits Squirrelkit and Leafkit, he wishes Firestar would move back to Kittypet Town, but understands that his best friend is happier in Clan City.

Leafpool was in a very bad situation when she was pregnant with her triplets, as Crowfeather left her with nothing when they broke up. She pretended that she was going to be a surrogate, as Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight were having trouble conceiving. That was the lie.

Squirrelflight works as a professional chef. Ferncloud works as a stay-at-home mom but makes plush for her friends and their kids, as sewing is her passion. Thornclaw is a PE teacher. Ashfur is a drama teacher. Brambleberry is a chemistry teacher. Leafpool is a doctor. Cinderheart is a receptionist at the hospital Leafpool works at.

Hollyleaf and Cinderheart were "borderline dating" for MONTHS before Jayfeather snapped and screamed at one of them "just spit it out already!"

Jayfeather is a programmer, and works at making more video games and controllers accessible to blind folks like him! He works with Snowtail (Snowkit) who also works helps out gamers who are HoH.

Scourge is a lawyer, who helps Firestar find the evidence that Tigerstar murdered Redtail during an election.

Turtle Tail is preschool teacher, and works with Sorreltail and Snowbird. They work together at Kit School in Sanctuary Lake Elementary School/Preschool.

Clan City has 5 main districts, for the 5 Clans. Everyone is generally very proud of their home and where their family came from, and xenophobia seems to be on the rise... Many come over, but just as many are driven out by the harsh attitudes of the locals.

In another time, there are more districts. Jingo District, Blood District, and Warrior District. There is also Mountain City, and Gorge City where people in the Sky District lived for many years following a massive disaster that forced everyone to evacuate, they lived with the locals there for years, giving a mjor economy boost to a dying city, and caused quite the controversy when they left.

Guardian Village is nearby as well, traditional people who live amongst ruins, as well as many dotted Sister Settlements, where a semi-nomadic traveling group sets up camps. There is The River Kingdom, a valley where a group of secretive cats live in peace, also called The Park by outsiders.

In another time, the 5 founders of Clan City, Skystar, Thunderstar, Windstar, Shadowstar and Riverstar, settled there together after disaster swept the area. Shadowstar came from Mountain Village, plauge causing some cats to leave for hope of a better life, Windstar came from a village on the Moor that was destroyed by wildfires with her fiance Gorse Fur, Skystar came from what would later become Rogue Town, bounced through orphanages with her brother Fox, Thunderstar was born to 2 Mountain Cats, Clear Sky and Bright Storm, soon after arriving in the area, and Riverstar came from the River Kingdom to escape a flood with his young niece Flutter.

[abbythewritor]

'Fairness." One Piece x Saitama reader. 0

"Just a Normal girl looking for an everyday life. At least, if you call sailing across the seas with idiots with useless dreams a simple task, then you might wanna see a doctor. Seriously."

Warnings: Blood, gore, mentions of Luekimia, and heaps amount of blood and strength. It might be a little cursing, but not bad, and maybe some flirting in there, but it's mostly clean.

Other things:

-You didn't get bald due to your powers; you got bald to an extreme illness.

-You part of the straw hat crew, but others are interested in you and your power.

-Everyone that is a male is taller than you.

-Monsters from the OPM world will appear in One Piece, and I'll make some new monsters you will fight.

-I hope you enjoy my book and enjoy the prologue. :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The world is crazy....and boring.

Every human on this earth has advanced opportunities to grow, become successful, and be someone or something better.

Humans can go to college, date, be an actor, actresses, heck, even garbage men.

Some people, in many most eyes, are viewed as heroes, police officers, firefighters, heck, even people who are just doing a small amount of good.

When we look at the earth thoroughly and see the truth about life, anything and anyone has to start simple before they can become something more significant.

Heck, when life proceeds, and as human lives grow, excitement rolls up, the feeling of achieving something or living off of adventure.

That's what I wanted as a kid, to become firm, to have a life full of excitement, adrenaline, heck, even adventure.

But that all blew over one day when I discovered I had leukemia.

My family was devastated, as my excitement and dreams were gone in one instant.

You see, I grew up in a world where people can have incredible powers, who all fight all kinds of monsters, creatures, and even aliens that invade our earth. I was so inspired by them during my Kemo treatment that I acted like I was one of them, living in excitement and adventure; I wanted to grow and become something better.

But, at that time, I was getting worse; my hair was all gone, my bones were brittle, and the doc said I had little time to live.

Until one day, a man visited me...a tall, bald man, his suit a bright yellow color, his cap blowing like a guardian angel.

He protected me and my room from a monster, a monster giant his size.

His eyes were filled with boredom, anger as his eyes met mine, noticing I was just like him. He also noticed the stupid wires connected to me, especially a breathing tube, which caused his heart to grow weak.

The way the man looked back at the monster, killing it with a single punch, I felt surprised and scared?

His hand was near mine as he dropped some type of metal circle, which fell to the floor where his eyes met.

I sensed that something was bothering him, knowing he may have lost someone he cared about.

Without hesitation, I grasped the man's hand, which made him look at me.

He could sense my worry as my tiny feet stood on the bed, heading closer to him as he kneeled. "Mister, I'm sorry," I said as he kneeled down to me blankly. "Why are you sorry? I should be sorry for wrecking your room." My head shook. "It's just a room; you lost someone, didn't you?" His head tilted. "What do you mean-Oh." He realized what you were discussing as his hands picked up a metal ball. "He seemed important...did that monster kill him?" His eyes looked to you again, not knowing what to say as he hated to tell little ones lousy news. But, again, a hero doesn't lie, as this kind of stuff strikes the man in the heart."You're a smart one, Kid, and yes...his name was Genos; you pretty brave when that monster came; what's your name?" "Y/n. Y/n L/n, what's your name, Mister?" He smiled slightly. "Saitama, you have a nice name; we have unique styles; your hair is fabulous today, Y/n." He patted your head as you giggled with the feeling of his rubber gloves. "I don't have hair, neither do you, Mister Saitama; how did you lose your hair?" "Hmm.." He looked up to his head, then back to you, "A monster ate it." Your eyes widened. "No way, really? Was the monster you just beat up the one that ate your hair?!" Saitama chuckled slightly as his head shook. "No, let's just say the monster was friendly. Did the same thing happen to you-" He paused when your face turned sad as you looked at your hands. "Have you heard of the disease called leukemia?" His heart broke while nodding. "Yeah, it's a type of cancer...is that...how you lost your hair?" Looking up at Saitama, tears glossed over your orbs as you nodded. "It happened a year ago, just before my parents passed away. We're so poor we didn't know how my treatment would go, but after the monsters killed them, I was handed to an orphanage, and they took me here to get treated. Funny huh? Seeing a little girl going through the worse sickness in the world, alone, without family? I just wanted to be an ordinary girl with a life full of excitement and adventure. Instead, I'm hooked up to these stupid wires. Ugly, huh?" "No." You looked at him as he sat on the end of your bed. "I understand the feeling of wanting excitement and adventure, but having those in life doesn't make you a better person; excitement is what comes through you. Those wires, you being in here, still alive, excite me, and you're so brave. I mean, you just experienced something exciting; I kicked a monster's ass-" He paused what he just said as he slapped a hand over his mouth, as you giggled at his words. "Bad word, Saitama! No cursing allowed!" His hands went up with defense. "I did not say anything; you heard things Y/n. "That's a lie! You just sinned again!" "Oh no, what so ever will I do? Will though lord of this earth send me to damnation?" Standing on the bed, you smirk. "I, an Angel of God, she'll give you a chance to repent, and you will be sent to heaven like Genos is right now!" Getting up, Saitama kneeled and bowed his head.

"Oh gorgeous angel of heaven, please forgive my stupid, bald-headed self and accept my hands as I repent of the sins I committed." Heart warm and eyes sparkling, you grasped his hands easily as he looked up to your beautiful, bright smile. "You are forgiven, Hero!" Smiling, he stood up. "I'm glad; I didn't want to lose my best friend." Your eyes widened while your head tilted. "Best friend?! But, Mister, we just met-" "So? Let's call it an Instant connection-" *Boom!* An explosion was shown in the distance of your knocked-over wall, the floor rumbling from the impact as he looked at you quickly but calmly. "Duty calls, say, if I defeat this monster, ice cream is on me, okay?" His heart warmed from your excited face. "Really?!" "Of course, but in case I don't come back, here." Taking off his cape, he dropped it over your shoulders, which made your eyebrows furrow. "But, you need this-" His hand went up as destruction was still heard in the distance. "It's just a piece of clothing in my eyes; you seem to need it more than I do because what I see...." Walking closer to you, he gave one last head rub as he gave you a soft yet warm smile. "Is a hero...."

"A hero that deserves fairness in the world."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[barbieaiden]

1. Kell: Dude. You're no fun to play with, you're too good.

Aiden: Kell, I love you, but I think you just suck at the game.

Kell: Dude! I always won against my siblings!

Aiden: Aww. I always let my brother win too when we were little.

Kell: You're cheating.

Aiden: I would never. I take these things very seriously.

2. Kell: By the way, you know that guy I went on a date with before your coma?

Aiden: Yeah?

Kell: Yeah, we were supposed to go on another date literally the day you got into the coma, so obviously I was like "dude, I can't make it, my friend is having a literal medical emergency", and he was like "okay, I'll just break this off here then, bye".

Aiden: Oh nooo. Did I cockblock you with my coma?

Kell: You literally did!

3. Aiden: I'll make it up to you. I'll wingman you so hard. I'll introduce you to literally everyone I know.

Kell: Isn't that, like, the entirety of River Bay?

Aiden: Almost, yeah. So you're bound to find someone.

Kell: Dude, you did not win again.

Aiden: You practically let me.

Kell: Dude!

Peyton: Is now a bad time to say hi?

4. Aiden: Peyton! NO, of course not. I didn't even know you were here, it's been so long!

5. Peyton: Yeah, I seem to recall being ignored for a month?

Aiden: Sorry about that. I was sleeping.

Peyton: For a month?

Aiden: Doctor's orders.

Peyton: Ah, of course. Totally reasonable.

6. Aiden: But don't worry. I'm back in my element.

Peyton: Do I want to know what that means?

Aiden: It means I'm ready to annoy the fuck out of you and text you every millisecond 24/7.

Peyton: Okay, I can get behind that.

7. Peyton: how are you doing?

Aiden: Great.

Peyton: "Great"? Really?

Aiden: So great. How are you? Are you still working at the mall?

Peyton: I quit impulsively a few weeks ago. I should probably get a new job if I want to be able to pay rent, but, eh. Video games are more fun.

Kell: If you're evicted you can move into Sam and Aiden's closet, I hear it's pretty empty nowadays.

Aiden: Totally.

8. Kell: Peyton, you're good at connect 4, right?

Peyton: I'd say so.

Kell: Help me win. Please.

Aiden: Who's cheating now?

Kell: There's no rule that says you can't have someone help you.

Peyton: Don't put it there. One step right.

Kell: Here?

Peyton: Yeah.

9. Aiden: Peyton, I love you so much.

Kell: Dude. Did you just make me lose?

Peyton: [Shrug]

Kell: Fuck you. Both of you.

[New scene]

10.

Sam: You met Aiden right after the car crash.

Jordan: Yes.

Sam: How bad was it? He never told me.

Jordan: Considering the crash, his injuries were very mild.

Sam: But he could've died.

Jordan: He didn't. And I don't think you need to worry about something that happened six years ago.

Sam: No, I just...

Jordan: Just what?

Sam: I don't know.

11. Sam: I hated Aiden when we first met.

Jordan: According to Kell's accounts you were simultaneously in love with him?

Sam: Attracted to. There's a difference.

Jordan: Not to me.

Sam: And how many successful relationships have you had?

Jordan: Well... I've certainly had relationships, I can tell you that much.

12. Sam: Don't you get tired of talking to new people all the time? How do you even find so many people you're interested in? I did it once and now I'm marrying him so I never have to do it again.

Jordan: It's easy if you're drunk and have very, very low standards. It also helps if you're fresh off a 13 hour shift at a hospital.

Sam: That sounds awful.

Jordan: I don't necessarily recommend it.

13. Sam: But you keep doing it.

Jordan: I suppose I have nothing better to do after those 13 hour shifts.

Sam: I'm so glad I dropped out of med school.

Jordan: You should be.

14. Sam: I'm just going to get some water.

Jordan: Okay.

15. Lucas: No, I had to do it because Michael thought it was "rude".

Michael: It was.

Lucas: If I pay for something, I want what I paid for. That's not rude. If I fuck someone's tattoo up I'd fix it.

Michael: You can't compare a meal to something that's permanently on someone's body.

Lucas: You agree with me.

Peyton: Oh, yeah.

Lucas: Exactly!

16. Peyton: Hey, Sam. How are you doing? Sleeping better?

Sam: A little.

Peyton: So... while you're here... Aiden.

Sam: Yes?

17. Peyton: He's acting... suspiciously normal, isn't he?

Lucas: Right? I literally told Michael the same thing ten minutes ago. This is the way Aiden always acts after medical emergencies, he just pretends everything's fine.

18. Sam: It's been a month. Things have gone back to normal, he's not pretending.

Lucas: No, sorry, no offense, Sam, but I don't think you get it. You weren't there all the other times he had to go to the hospital because of drugs--and that shouldn't be plural, by the way--this happens every time.

19. Lucas: He says he's fine and that he's clean now and then he just waits until people stop asking him about it and we're back at square one.

Sam: This was different though.

Lucas: Just because it was worse and because he maybe went through a tiny little bit of withdrawal while unconscious doesn't mean he's magically better.

Michael: Lucas, please.

20. Michael: You yourself said that there's nothing we can do.

Lucas: Well, we can't exactly force him to do anything but there's a difference between overcaring and pushing him away, and being so passive it turns into enabling.

Michael: I agree, but I don't think that has anything to do with Sam.

Lucas: I didn't say it does.

21. Lucas: I just don't want him dead, that's all.

Peyton: I seriously doubt any of us want him dead.

Lucas: Exactly. So we can't just trust that he's better because he says he is.

Sam: That's not what--[Sigh] I don't think it's fair to talk about this behind his back.

22. Lucas: I'd love to discuss this with him directly but he makes it pretty difficult. There's a reason he didn't want to talk to us for a fucking month.

Sam: Maybe it wasn't deliberate. Maybe he was just recovering from a coma.

Lucas: But he was talking to literally everyone else during that time, wasn't he? It's not a coincidence he ignored me, Michael, and Peyton specifically.

23. Sam: I... I don't know his motivation. And either way I don't want to be involved in this.

Peyton: That's fair. I didn't really mean for this to be a whole discussion.

Lucas: Sorry. Look, my point is just... if he's clean, that's fucking great. But I kind of doubt it. Just... keep an eye on him.

Sam: I always am.

[gemini-sensei]

Don't mind me and my chaotic af ideas, but- (warning for abusive households (non physical), controlling behavior, forced separation/break up) (@sensei-venus)

Imagine if Reader, Hawk and Miguel are in a secret relationship because her parents don't like them. So they sneak around, fall in love, and get it on. They're so happy in their relationship even though they can't tell anyone. They'd be much happier of they could be open about their relationship, but it just isn't an option right now. Juliet and her two Romeos will just have to wait it out.

Except Reader is hit with the unexpected and shocking news that her parents have been planning on moving out of the Valley. Her dad got a great job opportunity, so they'll be moving hours away and taking their daughter from the boys that have been causing trouble to them, thinking it will fix whatever issues they have.

However, trouble follows them.

Not in the form of Hawk and Miguel driving hours away to help Reader runaway or anything like that. But in the form of the baby they put in her belly before she moved, which was unplanned and unforeseen.

Reader feels so connected to Hawk and Miguel through the baby, but it also hurts because she can't tell them about it. She's forbidden from talking to them, her actions closely monitored. Despite not liking Hawk or Miguel, her parents tolerate her pregnancy and eventually the baby that's born. However, they don't do much to help. They provide a roof over Reader and her baby's head, they feed them, buy their clothes. That's more than enough in their opinion, leaving Reader to raise and careful her little chubby baby alone. They handle the financial, she handles the actual baby, "since she went and got herself pregnant," as her mom will say.

But then the job her dad got falls through. Shit goes bad and the family is forced to move back to the Valley, with enough luck that he was able to get his old job back. Reader is silently excited, knowing that being so close to Hawk and Miguel will put nothing in their way of seeing each other again. But it's been a year, people change. She certainly has...

So will they still care? Do they still love her? And what will they think of their baby girl? who looks so much like Miguel with thick dark curls and soft tan skin.

Reader manages to get away from her parents by saying her baby girl has a doctor's appointment to find her a new pediatrician, when really she's driving up to the dojo because she knows she'll find her loves there.

So imagine Hawk and Miguel's shock when they see not only Reader walking through the gate, but the baby blankets held to her chest that wriggle and move restlessly.

Hawk can't help but think Reader looks as beautiful as ever, with a little extra meat on her bones than he being on her the last time they saw each other. Full hips, fatter chest, pudgier belly. She's glowing with motherhood and he just wants to run to her and hold her fell her body with his own so he knows that he isn't dreaming and that she actually there.

And Miguel is ready to drop to his knees and burst into tears. Here's one of the loves of his life whom he thought he may never see again, at least not so soon. And she's cradling a curious and wiggly infant to her chest, smiling nervously at them until the baby starts to fuss.

She shushes the little one and bounces her, telling her everything is alright. "It's time you meet your daddies."

Everyone else is justifiably shocked. Maybe a select few people knew they were dating, like Sam and Demetri, but the baby - she's a huge surprise.

Daniel and Johnny welcome the pair into the dojo, pausing the lesson to allow for a much needed Q&A session. However, they corral the other teens away so Hawk, Miguel and Reader can talk.

"It's so good to see you again," Hawk tells her, kissing her cheek before they get into any conversation. He's so overwhelmed with happiness, his heart might burst. "We missed you so much. Who's this?"

"This is Rosalía, but I mostly call her Rosie," Reader giggles.

And Miguel breaks down as he hears the name because he knows Reader named their daughter after one of the most important people in his whole life. Hawk has to hold him and rub his back as he sputters and tries to suck it up. He manages to do so when Rosie starts fussing and whining because he's upset, and him being upset is going to make her upset.

"It's okay, Rosie," he tells her, voice a little pitched. He sniffles and wipes his eyes, smiling at the baby soon thereafter. "I'm okay, see?"

"Can we hold her?" Hawk asks, soft and hopeful, almost as if he's not supposed to ask such a thing.

"Of course," Reader giggles and passes the baby over to Hawk. She helps with the position on his hands and instructs him on how to hold her head. "Look at you. You're a natural at this."

Miguel comes close and gently touches Rosie's mass of curls, so soft and delicate. He kisses her head and smiles at her, then he and Hawk are saying hello and introducing themselves.

"We're your dads," Miguel laughs softly, making sure not to be too loud. He smiles at Hawk, who is wearing the same 'holy shit this is real' smile.

Hawk kisses Rosie's head. "And we love you so much."

Hawk and Miguel and Reader finally feel whole again after being apart for a year, though it felt like much longer. And the guys couldn't be happier with who Reader came back with.