#keeping track of what you were saying? what for!

[beloveds-embrace]

Neglected omega reader who got taken care of by someone else. Nikolai or Konig. The drama ✨✨

I hope i did KorTac justice, I’ve never written them before except König lol @nightunite pspspsps i have nikto crumbs 🙏🏻

Neglected omega reader p1 + p2

KorTac had always liked you.

From the very first moment they’d met you, they’d been drawn in- pulled by the quiet gravity of your presence and the sharp edge of your competence. You were quick on your feet, sharp with a knife, steady under pressure. Smart and resourceful in a way that demanded respect.

But more than that?

You had heart.

You’d been assigned to their unit during a joint operation months ago. Just a temporary deployment, only meant to last a few weeks, but it had been long enough for them to notice things- little things they hadn’t been able to forget.

The way you’d patched König up without hesitation after a mission went sideways, hands steady even as blood slicked your fingers. The way you’d shared your rations with Horangi after a supply drop came in light, brushing off his protests with a stubborn glare. The way you’d sat quietly beside Nikto on watch, not asking questions when he didn’t feel like talking but always ready to listen when he did.

They noticed you, and they liked what they saw.

Liked the way you worked. Liked the way you took care of your team without ever expecting anything in return. Liked the way you carried yourself- confident but kind. Fierce but soft.

But you weren’t theirs. Couldn’t be.

You belonged to 141, and KorTac had backed off, unwilling to overstep boundaries when you already had a pack waiting for you at home. They’d told themselves it was fine- they were fine- watching from a distance.

But then you came back.

Alone.

Hollow-eyed and sharp-edged, moving like a ghost through the halls of the base, and suddenly?

All bets were off.

The first time König sees you in such a state, it’s in the corridor outside the mess hall.

You don’t look up when he walks by, don’t even seem to notice the sheer weight of his presence as he slows, lingering just long enough to let his shadow stretch over you. You’re leaning against the wall like you’re trying to hold yourself together, arms wrapped tight around your middle, shoulders curled inward. Small. Smaller than he’s ever seen you look before. Smaller than he’d ever thought he’d ever see you.

His instincts itch- Omega, alone, hurting- but you’re not his. And still…

His eyes track the tired slump of your shoulders, the way your clothes hang loose, like you’ve been skipping meals. He scents the air. Picks up the faded traces of peach and rose, but there’s something sour underneath- bitter and wrong, like spoiled fruit. König’s stomach twists.

It’s the scent of neglect.

You should never have looked like this. You should have never smelled like this.

Not you. Not the Omega who had once dragged him out of the line of fire without hesitation, barking orders and holding the line until reinforcements arrived. Not the Omega who had once laughed with him under a tin roof during a monsoon, eyes bright.

The smell lingers after he walks away, clinging to the back of his throat like smoke. But it’s the emptiness of it- the hollowness- that keeps him awake that night, staring at the ceiling and wondering which one of those 141 bastards let their Omega rot like this.

The next time König sees you, it’s in the armory.

You’re cataloging weapons, checking and re-checking the tags with mechanical precision, but your hands shake when you reach for the next one. Just a little. Just enough for him to notice.

König moves closer. Quiet, but not too quiet- he doesn’t want to startle you. You don’t look up until his shadow stretches over your workbench, and when you do, the look in your eyes hits him like a gut-punch.

Flat. Guarded. Resigned.

Like you’re expecting him to scold you.

König’s heart cracks wide open. He grips the edge of the table just to keep from reaching out.

“Doing good work.” He says softly, and you just blink.

It’s such a small thing- barely even a compliment- but your throat bobs like you’re swallowing something down. Then you duck your head and go back to your task, not looking at him again.

But you don’t flinch.

Not this time.

Nikto is next, and he doesn’t hesitate.

He remembers you. Remembers the way you’d stood shoulder to shoulder with him in the rain, eyes scanning the horizon with sharp focus as you both waited for the enemy to make their move.

You hadn’t been scared. Not even a little.

And now?

He catches you outside the rec room, sitting on the stairs with your knees drawn up to your chest. You don’t even react when he approaches, just keep staring at the floor like it might swallow you whole.

Now, you look like you’re drowning.

So Nikto doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t say anything. Just crouches down beside you and sets a cup of coffee at your feet before walking away.

You stare at it for almost five minutes before finally picking it up.

The next morning, he does it again. Same cup. Same coffee. Same wordless offering.

It becomes a routine- something quiet and steady, something you can rely on when everything else feels too heavy.

And then there’s Horangi, who pushes the hardest.

He pushes, because he knows you can take it.

You had before- back when you’d yelled at him for ignoring orders and running off alone, eyes blazing as you shoved him back toward the evac point. He’d liked your fire back then, liked the way you didn’t back down even when he towered over you.

But now?

Now your fire’s gone out, and there’s only one group to blame.

So Horangi pushes. Tests the waters, pokes at the edges, trying to find the spark he knows is still there. He is the loudest of the three, sharp and quick with his words, but he also knows when to keep them soft. He finds you cleaning your gear one night and sits down beside you without asking.

“You missed dinner.” He says casually, pulling out a protein bar and tossing it onto your lap. Pushing past the bubble you’ve wrapped around yourself, yet not being overbearing or too much.

You open your mouth to argue, but he cuts you off.

“I’m not your Alpha,” he says with a shrug. “You don’t have to listen to me.”

You close your mouth. Look down at the protein bar. Then, without a word, you tear it open and take a bite.

Horangi grins. And just like that, he’s in.

And when you finally- finally- smile at one of his jokes?

He knows he’s got you.

141 starts noticing the shift almost immediately. Soap catches König lingering near you in the gym, eyes following the curve of your spine as you stretch, and something inside him snaps.

Ghost sees Nikto brush his fingers against yours when he hands you something, and his jaw clenches so tight he can hear his teeth grind.

Price overhears Horangi making you laugh- a real, honest-to-God laugh, a sound he can’t hear any longer even in his dreams- and has to excuse himself before he says something he can’t take back.

It gets worse when your scent starts to change; the bitterness fades first, then the sourness.

The first time Price catches a hint of warmth blooming underneath, it stops him dead in his tracks.

Because it isn’t for him. It isn’t for them.

It’s even worse to know that they drove you to it, and have no one to blame but themselves.

They let you fall through the cracks. Let the weight of their own issues and distractions leave you stranded in the dark, too far away for them to pull you back when they finally noticed you were gone.

And now? Now KorTac is picking up the pieces, with no hesitation.

König steadies you. Makes sure you eat, makes sure you rest, makes sure you feel safe even when the world outside is crumbling. Doesn’t push you away when you, big hand lingering on the curve of your spine until his scent is left there.

Nikto grounds you. Offers quiet comfort without demands, without expectations. Makes sure you know he’s there, always there, steady and unshakable. A lighthouse in the stormy seas, the hand that pulls you out of the swirling ocean.

Horangi pushes and pushes. Draws out smiles and laughter, reminds you what it feels like to be wanted. Finds excuses to bump shoulders or brush against you when you pass, just to see if you’ll let him.

And you do. You let all of them, slowly greeting them with the quietest little purr (cat activation noise).

Because it’s easier to be wanted by them than it is to be unwanted by your own pack.

And slowly- so slowly it hurts- you start to come back to life; your scent changes. Softens. Warms. The bitterness fades and the sourness disappears.

And all they can do is only watch as König takes the space they abandoned. As Nikto feeds the hunger they ignored. As Horangi brings back the fire they let burn out.

And they can’t do a damn thing about it.

Because the truth is- KorTac wanted you from the start, and now that they’ve got you?

They’re never letting go.

[harrycinnamonbun]

focus - lando norris

lando norris x fem!reader

word count - 1.7k

summary - trying to get attention from your streamer boyfriend takes a turn

warnings - 18+, smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, nipple play, voyeurism/exhibitionism if you squint?

a/n - ik this is kinda overdone but the trope is so good... requests are open gimme ideas! masterlist here

4 hours. 

that was how long lando had been streaming for today.

gaming with his friends had become somewhat of a routine for your boyfriend, but you quickly grew tired of the monotony. it forced you to spend more time alone than you usually liked, as his fervent dedication abandoned you to your own boredom.

you lounged on the bed in your pajamas, a pair of cute tiny shorts and a tank top, hoping to grab his attention. a book was open in front of you, sitting neglected as your attention was drawn to the other side of the bedroom where lando was angrily yelling to his friends on the stream. 

“mate you were supposed to cover me! that’s why i died you freaking muppet!” lando threw his hands up in defeat, letting out a huff as his friends berated him for being shit at the game. 

you rolled your eyes at the interaction, finding it all too familiar. 

“landooooo,” you call out, “come cuddle for a bit, you’ve been streaming for a while.”

from afar you can see the influx of chat comments greeting you at the sound of your voice, the fans happy to even just hear you. you giggled at that as lando mutes his mic and turns his chair around to face you. 

“baby, i’m just gonna play one more round and then i’ll be done, promise” he says, flashing you a grin and turning back towards the screen, unmuting his mic. 

“thats what you said an hour ago…” you grumble underneath your breath. at this point you had enough, you needed to get his attention somehow. sitting up straight, you looked around the bedroom to think. a sly smile spread over your face as you eyed the empty space under his desk, just the right size for you to fit under. 

maybe if you annoyed him enough, he would fuck you until you couldn’t walk. it was worth a try. 

you quietly slid off the bed and onto the floor, crawling over to lando slowly. you were careful to keep low, avoiding his webcam and the thousands of people observing him rage about pixels on a screen. 

he looks down at you quizzically as you nestle yourself under his desk. sliding to insert yourself between his legs, your finger rises to meet your lips motioning him to be quiet. 

you smile mischeviously as you edge your fingers up his leg, tracing up to his thighs as he draws in a sharp breath. he gives you a warning look, eyes following your movement like how a predator tracks its prey. 

“what are you doing?” lando whispered, his voice faltering a bit as your hand ghosted over his now prominent bulge. you stifle a laugh as you watch his expression turn from panic to lust.

just the idea of you giving him head while he was streaming made him hard, and the feel of your fingertips lightly touching his length through his shorts did nothing to help. lando gulps and tears his gaze away from you, eyes focused back on the screen in front of him as max yells in his headphones. 

his attempt to stay calm was futile as you began to palm over his dick, rubbing him through the thin fabric of his shorts. lando bit his lip to suppress a moan, fingers still moving over the controller. 

you decided to take it a step further to see if you could break his concentration, pulling down his waistband to release his throbbing cock. his tip was already leaking as you stared at it, flicking your eyes up to his startled face before you sealed your lips around it sucking lightly. 

lando threw his head back, letting out an involuntary groan.

“you alright there mate?” max asked lando in a concerned tone. 

“yeah yeah,” he replied, clicking his camera off. “just uh– having some trouble with the webcam.” 

you felt a rush of adrenaline as you took him further into your mouth, tears pricking your eyes as he hit the back of your throat. you moan around him, his hands immediately flying to your hair and pulling lightly.

lando groans again as you bob your head, running your tongue along the bottom of his shaft as you come up. he looks down at you with dark eyes, clearly paying attention now. 

you looked so pretty with your lips wrapped around him, he couldn’t take it anymore. 

“hey max,” he choked out into the mic, “i’ll be back again later i uh, think i left the oven on.”

“mate you don’t even cook-” max was cut off as lando ended his stream, ripping his headphones off in a rushed manner. 

he immediately let out a louder moan, no longer restricted in his reactions to your lewd movements. his pupils dilated with lust as you moved faster, the obscene sounds of your mouth edging him further and further. 

lando abruptly pulls you off of him, guiding you out from under the desk to straddle his lap. the chair was stable enough to hold the both of you but you still gripped his shoulders for comfort. 

“you wanted me so bad huh baby? couldn’t wait ‘till i was done?” he whispered into your ear, running his hands up and down your soft thighs. 

you let a whimper as you grind against his hardness, hoping for some relief on your aching clit. “just wanted you to focus on me.”

“oh i’m completely focused now,” he assures you, pulling your shorts aside finding you bare, instantly starting to rub circles on your bundle of nerves, “no panties? you planned this to happen.” you whine out, feeling the heat in your core building as you move your hands to play with the curls at the nape of his neck. 

lando continues his assault on your clit, moving his fingers tantalizingly slow. he craned his head to place small kisses on your neck, tracing a path down to your collarbones and stopping at the neckline of your tank top. he moved his hands up to grope your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples, hardening from the stimulation under the thin material. 

“mmm my naughty girl, did you want everyone to hear you choking on my cock? tsk tsk tsk– what would they say” he chides as he tugs your top down, leaving it to pool at your waist. he was almost salivating at the sight of your tits, the supple skin inviting him to have a taste. 

you could only croak out a small “yes” in response as he dipped down to capture one of your nipples, the wet heat of his mouth making your brain go fuzzy. lando sucked lightly, running his tongue over the sensitive peak as he pinched your other nipple gently between his fingers. 

“lando”, you panted out, “please– need you.” he raised his head from your chest to capture your lips in a deep kiss, caressing your tongue with his. 

you just wanted to feel him. all of him. 

“alright baby i’ll give you what you want,” he said with a smirk as you lifted your hips to hover over him. you pulled your shorts aside again, exposing your wetness to the cold air of the room. 

his hands lingered on your hips to help guide you over his painfully hard cock, feeling his tip nudge between your folds. your entrance welcomed him as you sank down on his length, your head falling back in pleasure. 

his hold on you tightened, fingers gripping so harshly on the flesh they would surely leave a mark. lando relished in your flustered state, examining how your lips parted in bliss, eyes squeezed shut while trying to adjust to his length.

 his own mouth fell open at the sight of you, a low groan escaping him at the feeling of your wet walls embracing him deeper and deeper until his tip finally kissed your cervix. 

you began to bounce up and down slowly,  lando’s strong arms assisting your movements. you leaned onto his shoulders for support, your head falling down into the crook of his neck as you both gasped and moaned at the pleasurable feeling of him hitting the deepest parts inside you.

“lando,” you whined out, speeding up your movements as the noise of slapping skin filled the room. 

you were panting harder now, your thoughts only occupied with the feeling of him inside you. your clit brushed against him every time your hips met, sending shocks through your body. the familiar feeling of your orgasm loomed in your core, threatening to overtake you very soon. 

“c’mon baby take what you need,” lando groaned out, helping you pick up your pace, thrusting his hips up to meet yours now. you could tell he was getting close too, your bodies moving urgently in tandem to reach your highs simultaneously. 

“almost– ah, there! please lando,” at your plea he reached down between your legs, rubbing your sensitive nerves to finally send you over the edge. 

your orgasm crashed over you, sending waves of shocks through your body as your movements slowed down. you cried out for him, his name the last thing leaving your lips as an immeasurable bliss took over. lando kissed your neck tenderly as he gripped you harder, stabilizing you as he rammed into you faster. 

“fuck baby you’re doing so good, im almost there. such a needy girl, had to have me right away.” he flashed a glowing smile at you as you came down from your high, his hands pawing at the flesh of your ass as he fucked you deeply. 

his breathing grew ragged at his eyes screwed shut, breathing your name out with a moan. his release was warm inside you, filling you up as his hips stuttered and slowed. 

you sat like this for a minute, still joined, recovering and whispering sweet things into each other’s ears. lando kissed your shoulder as he pulled out of you, a whine leaving your lips at the absence of him. 

“maybe i should stay on the stream longer if this is what it gets me,” lando joked, seeing how much he could annoy you. 

you hit his shoulder playfully in response, “absolutely not! but honestly, max probably thinks you burned the house down by now.” 

“ah– i’ll deal with that later. all i’m focused on right now is you.” 

[psychoticbipolarbear]

Unprofessional innuendos

pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

summary: You keep teasing Hotch jokingly, a habit that stems from your feelings for him, but when you want to make a move he doesn't approve of, he thinks it's time to tell you he secretly likes it.

tags: daddy kink implied, age gap, pre-season 1, fem!bau!reader, Haley isn't with Hotch

word count: 0.9k

“Boys, we all know that Daddy loves me best,” you say with a laugh as you lean back in the chair with a smug smile on your face. 

Derek laughs with you as he shakes his head, knowing full well you are right, while Spencer looks like you just shot his dog. “What about me?” he asks hesitantly, pointing at himself. 

“You’re Gideon’s favorite, I won’t give you Hotch too.” 

“And I’m the oldest child both parents forget about,” Derek notes as he stands up and stretches his arms above his head. You throw a pen at him, but he catches it with ease and walks over to put it on your desk. “Come on, I’m paying for the drinks tonight. You’re coming too, Reid,” he adds, giving a pointed look to the youngest member of your team. 

You don’t move, instead you turn to the hallway where Hotch and Gideon’s offices are, wondering if you should at least offer them the chance to join you. Gideon barely came with you, but Hotch agreed every so often, and when you could convince him to drink more than two glasses, things always got interesting. He could be fun when he let his walls down, when he joined the playful banters, or when he played along with you when you were back on your usual bullshit after one too many drinks. 

So, despite the others’ protests, you jump up and run into Hotch’s office to convince him to join you. He’s playing hard to get, but you know you could easily get under his skin with a few sweet words, and sure enough, he rolls his eyes and closes the folder he was working with. “Fine,” he says, then stands up to follow you. 

Fast forward to one in the morning, when he’s standing at your door, holding you up while you try to open your front door. Derek offered to take you home, but he wasn’t that sober either, so Hotch took it upon himself to get you home in one piece. Despite being aware of your intoxicated state, he gives you a lecture in the car about how you should try to behave, toning down the innuendos that are usually flowing out of you more often than not. And it only happened around him, which made him wonder if there are real feelings behind them. 

One day is enough to put the pieces together, and when the team goes to their respective rooms after a long day of traveling and getting up to speed with a new case, you can’t help but linger around your boss’ room, debating whether or not you should talk to him. You know he was right that night, that you were taking things too far, that you were overstepping boundaries that existed for a reason. But you didn’t know what to do, your crush on him made it impossible to be around him and act normal. 

And tonight you had a moment of enlightenment and figured out what route you can take to solve this. So, you knock, impatiently waiting for him to open the door for you. When it creaks open, you see that he’s already dressed for bed, wearing a white shirt and black track pants, and his hair is a mess already. “Did something happen?” he asks.

“I know it’s late, I’m sorry. There’s something I want to tell you, but I don’t want to wait until the morning,” you admit, glancing past him into the room as a sign that maybe you shouldn’t discuss it there. He gets the message and steps aside to let you in. “I’m leaving the team,” you announce when he leans against the wall. 

Hotch freezes, but his brown eyes tell you that his brain is in overdrive. “What?” You nod, not feeling like responding with words. “No.”

“That’s not up to you.”

“It should be. Is it because of what we talked about in the car?” he asks as he steps closer, slowly closing the distance between you. You nod again. “Okay, listen to me very, very carefully. I said what I said because I don’t want a scandal. I swear to God, one day the way our team members communicate will trigger a sexual harassment training. Garcia and Morgan? You and me? That’s completely unprofessional, no matter how natural it feels to us,” he says. 

You think about what he said, then you note, “But you never join in when I say those things. It’s not mutual.”

To your surprise, he lets out a laugh, then reaches out to cup your face. “Don’t think I don’t want to,” he admits, leaning so close you can feel his hot breath on your skin. “I love the way you’re teasing me, surprisingly, I even find your stupid daddy and sir kinks endearing, but I need to draw the line at work. I’m your boss, there are rules against relationships like that.” He thinks about this, then lets his hands slide down from your cheek, moving along your neck, down over your collarbone, exploring your sides as he leans in to kiss you. “Stay here tonight. Let me show you how badly I want you,” he breaths against your lips.

Your brain doesn’t work properly anymore, you can’t think of a reason why you should say no to him. So, you stay, giving in to the sexual tension that’s been building up ever since you joined the team. From that night on, you don’t even think about leaving the team again. You just tone down the comments to play by his rules.

[mephisto-reporting]

I Love You: Zayne Edition

Premise:

Trope: Pure fluff

Pairing:Reader x Xavier

Note: Reader and the men are NOT in a relationship. but there is implied mutual attraction. Let me know if you want to be a part of my taglist.

Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition | Xavier Edition | Zayne Edition

The laughter of old friends lingered in the air like a melody, soft and bittersweet. The dinner had been perfect—good food, even better company, and the warmth of shared memories. Sitting at the long table, surrounded by people who had been a part of your life since childhood, you had caught Zayne’s gaze more than once. It wasn’t intentional, at least, not at first.

He looked effortlessly composed, as always. His sharp jawline and the faintest crease of a smirk tugging at his lips made him seem untouchable. Throughout the night, you’d caught his subtle glances—the way his eyes crinkled slightly when you laughed, the careful way he leaned over to refill your water glass before you even noticed it was empty. And then there were the small, almost imperceptible brushes of his hand against yours whenever you passed the breadbasket or reached for your drink at the same time. Each touch was a reminder of the unspoken tension between you.

The night air carried the faint hum of the city, punctuated by the distant honk of a horn and the occasional ripple of laughter from late-night strollers. The dinner had been wonderful, filled with shared stories and easy laughter with childhood friends. But now, the aftermath of your ill-chosen heels was a different story entirely.

You felt every uneven crack in the pavement as if it were a personal affront, the sharp, biting ache radiating from the balls of your feet. Still, you pushed forward, keeping your chin high despite the way your steps faltered. No way were you going to let Zayne have the satisfaction of saying, I told you so. His calm, knowing voice from earlier in the evening echoed mockingly in your head. “Those shoes are impractical. You’ll regret it.”

He had been right, of course, but you weren’t about to admit it. Not now. Not when he walked beside you, his steps steady and effortless, his expression composed as ever.

"You’re doing alright?" Zayne's voice cut through your thoughts, calm and steady, like he was used to offering medical assessments, even when you weren’t exactly asking. His eyes flickered down to your feet, then back up to your face.

"Yeah, totally," you lied through clenched teeth, trying not to let the discomfort show.

He didn’t buy it. His brow furrowed slightly, and the corner of his mouth tugged into a faint, knowing smirk. “You’re limping..." he said matter-of-factly.

“I’m not!!!” you lied, trying to straighten your posture. “Just… taking my time.”

But Zayne was nothing if not observant. His sharp, dark eyes flicked toward you, catching the subtle winces you tried to mask. Without a word, he stopped in his tracks, his hand lightly brushing your elbow to halt your stride.

“Sit.” he instructed, his tone firm but not unkind, as he gestured to a nearby bench.

“Zayne, it’s fine—”

“Sit.” he repeated, cutting through your protest with that no-nonsense authority he wielded so effortlessly. There was no point in arguing.

Reluctantly, you lowered yourself onto the bench, feeling both relief and frustration as the pressure eased from your aching feet. Before you could say another word, Zayne crouched before you, his hands already reaching for your footwear.

“Zayne, what are you—”

“Be still!" he said, his voice soft but commanding as he slipped one heel off, then the other, with meticulous care. His touch was warm against your skin, his fingers deft and steady as they began to knead the tender arches of your feet.

A low groan escaped you before you could stop it, and Zayne’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. “Your posture’s terrible in shoes like these,” he remarked clinically, his thumbs pressing into a particularly sore spot with just the right amount of pressure. “They force your spine into unnatural alignment and strain the muscles in your legs. Long-term use could cause chronic pain.”

You grumbled, looking down at him, feeling the tinge of frustration mix with the discomfort. "I know, I know," you muttered, "but they look so good, Zayne. They make me feel pretty."

His eyes softened, his usual stoic expression shifting into something more vulnerable, more genuine. He looked up at you, and his lips quirked into a small, fond smile. "It’s not the shoes that make you pretty," he said softly, his voice warm and sincere. "It’s your charm. Your beauty. Your warmth. It’s all you."

The sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten, and for a moment, you forgot about the ache in your feet altogether. The way Zayne looked at you, his gaze full of adoration, made your chest ache in a good way. He wasn’t the type to express such things openly, but in this moment, you knew he meant it with every fiber of his being.

Before you could say anything in response, Zayne stood, shrugging off his own shoes with a small shake of his head. "Here," he said, holding them out to you, "you can wear these for now."

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin tugging at your lips as you looked at the shoes, which were far too big for you. "You want me to wear those?" you asked, the idea almost comical.

Zayne raised an eyebrow, unamused. "Either that," he said, with an almost imperceptible smirk, "or I carry you the rest of the way."

You stared at him, incredulous. "You’re serious, aren’t you?"

He gave a nod, his gaze unwavering, and then the smirk appeared again—soft, amused, but still holding a hint of challenge. "Take your pick." he said, a playful edge in his voice, though there was no mistaking the sincerity behind it.

You sighed, unable to stop the soft laugh that escaped you, and shook your head. "Fine," you muttered, slipping your feet into his shoes, which were comically large on you but at least offered some relief. "But this better be the last time you ever say 'I told you so'."

Zayne chuckled, a deep, quiet sound that made your stomach flip, but just as you were about to speak again, something inside you caught. The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.

"I love you, Zayne."

The words hung in the air between you, startling both of you into silence. Zayne froze, his eyes wide and startled, his usual calm demeanor completely shattered for a heartbeat. His gaze locked onto yours, as if he were trying to make sense of what you’d just said, his expression a mixture of surprise, confusion, and something that could only be described as vulnerability.

"Wait," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Did you—did you just—"

You nodded, your own heartbeat suddenly loud in your ears. You didn’t know where the words had come from, but now that they were out there, you couldn’t take them back.

Zayne blinked, then slowly, hesitantly, he leaned forward. "Say it again," he asked, his voice surprisingly soft, vulnerable.

You swallowed, feeling the weight of the moment, but you didn’t hesitate this time. "I love you, Zayne."

A slow, almost disbelieving smile spread across his face, the kind that made your heart stutter. His eyes softened further, the stoicism melting away to reveal a quiet, unguarded joy.

“I love you too,” he said, his voice steady but laced with something raw and real. He let the words hang between you for a moment before his usual dry humor crept back in. “If I’d known a foot massage would get you to say that, I’d have done it a long time ago.”

You laughed, the sound light and breathless, the tension between you dissolving into something warm and easy. He held out his hand, pulling you to your feet and steadying you as you adjusted to the unfamiliar fit of his shoes.

With your heels in one hand and his arm firmly wrapped around your waist, he led you toward the car, his grip on you unyielding. The two of you walked slowly toward the car, his steps matching yours as if to ensure you didn’t falter. His touch was steady, grounding. And for the first time, you realized that this—his presence, his calm strength, his quiet devotion—felt like home.

As you reached the car, Zayne tightened his arm around you for just a moment, his lips brushing your temple in a gesture so tender it made your heart ache. “Stay with me,” he said softly, almost to himself. “For tonight. And for longer, forever if I can help it.”

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition | Xavier Edition | Zayne Edition

Taglist: @cordidy

[babyleostuff]

⸻ first date with hip hop unit

[ 🐚 ] where they would take their partner, what they would be like taking them out for the first time & what they would do to make them feel special

scoups

place: the aquarium

what they would do to make you feel special: is such an attentive listener and the way he keeps staring at you makes you blush so much (even if you usually don't blush, it's just the cheol effect) + at the end if the date you wonder if he paid even slight attention to the fish and whatnot (you could feel his stare on you for the whole time)

what they would be like taking you out: a shy mess, keeps ruffling his hair to occupy his hands with something (cuz he has to stop himself from grabbing your hand), the biggest gentleman out there

“oh, look at this one!” you pointed excitedly at one of the fishes that just swam by right in front of you. “it’s so pretty,” you cooed. 

you took a few steps to follow the small fish, forgetting that you weren’t there alone for a moment, too mesmerised to focus on anything else. it was nice to feel like a little kid once again, not having to worry about anything other than pretty fish and the shimmering blue and pink lights that made the whole place look like straight from a fairytale. 

“would it be corny if i said that you’re prettier?” suddenly, a deep voice pulled you out of your little bubble. 

“are you comparing me to a fish?” you fake-gasped and turned around, meeting seungcheol’s brown eyes that held a mischievous look that you grew to love so much, even though you hadn’t known each other for that long. 

his gentle laugh rippled through the air. “well, if you put it that way…”

you snickered and swatted his chest playfully. “i don’t think you’re supposed to say stuff like that on a first date, choi seungcheol.”

wonwoo

place: museum/ exhibition 

what they would do to make you feel special: takes candid photos of you (the morning after the date you get a message with the photos and a text saying “that’s how i see you” )

what they would be like taking you out: so so nervous, stutters, doesn’t know what to do with his hands, feels like he’s going to die at least five times

“click” 

you whipped your head around upon hearing the familiar sound, tearing your eyes from the painting after what felt like hours. but the exhibition wonwoo took you too was truly mesmerising, you had no idea how he found this place. 

“if you wanted to take a picture you could’ve told me,” you said, taking a step to the side. “i would’ve moved.” 

wonwoo lowered the camera, his hands slightly shaking, which in your eyes made him even more adorable than he already was. not to mention the fuzzy cardigan that made him look like the cuddliest teddy bear. 

“no, it’s… i wanted to take a photo of the painting and… and you,” he said with a gentle softness in his voice, blending in with the quiet hustle of people around you. 

“oh.”

mingyu

place: the funfair/ amusement park

what they would do to make you feel special: you know those games where you have to hit the targets to win the plushies or other stuffed animals? if you kept missing, gyu would miss as well, so you wouldn't feel like you were worse (he'd win once, though, because he'd really want to gift you a teddy bear)

what they would be like taking you out: tries his best to act cocky and smug but ends up tripping over his own feet, because he keeps staring at you too much

“i was so near, like one centimeter and i would’ve hit- oh my god, mingyu!” you exclaimed, stopping in your tracks. 

the man next to you landed on the ground with a thump, face first and all, for the third time in the span of the last two hours. 

“are you okay?” you gently placed the teddy bear your date had just gifted you on the ground, trying to keep it away from the dirt, and kneeled next to him. 

“this is really embarrassing,” he mumbled, leaning his forehead against the pavement. “i swear i’m not usually like this.” 

you shook your head, not really believing his words, because yes - maybe you didn’t know each other that well, but you’ve spent enough time together for you to know that kim mingyu was quite a clumsy person. 

“why do you keep tripping all the time?” you laughed, helping him up and brushing the dirt away. 

“you seriously don’t want to know,” mingyu answered, his face red as a tomato.

vernon

place: cinema + fast food place 

what they would do to make you feel special: buys you a small bouquet of your favourite flowers (you mentioned liking them once in passing)

what they would be like taking you out: not much changes in vernon's behaviour, completely chill and vibin' (mostly due to the fact that he's in such denial that you actually agreed to go out with him that he truly believes he's dreaming)

you stared at the small bouquet vernon was holding in his hands.

“uh, those aren’t your favorite right?” he asked when you didn’t say anything, and you didn’t fail to catch the note of disappointment in his voice. “i just probably messed up the names of the flowers. sorr-,” 

“how did you know these were my favourite?” 

“well,” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “you said once and i remembered, and… yeah.” 

“i mentioned it like once,” you said, still too shaken that he remembered such a small thing to grab the flowers from his hand. “wait, aren’t you allergic to pollen? what are you doing holding a whole bouquet?” 

you took the bouquet and hid it behind your back. 

“it won’t kill me, you know?” vernon said with a smile on his face.

[lostintransist]

Broken Beyond Bearing | Part 2

-…. ….- ..—- .—— / .-. . -.-. —- .-. -.. . -.. / -.. . .- -..

Part 1 found here.

CW: Very light sexual content, allergic reaction bad enough to need medical intervention, panic, dissociation

Johnny lay in the nest, warmed by Kyle who had shifted to fill the chill that John left when he had gone to answer the door. Simon lazily trails his nose over Johnny’s scent gland, drawing a light whimper from his throat.

Kyle leans in and presses their lips together, coaxing as his hand begins to trace muscles. Johnny settles a hand on Simon’s thigh, running his fingers through the hair he found there. They were off duty for another two weeks and taking full advantage of Simon’s oncoming rut. He would only be deeply affected for 48 hours but the men always pooled their leave times to give them an extra week off.

This being the third year of them taking a few weeks off for each of their ruts/heats the rest of the large team knew and adjusted for the absence of their leader and core team. Kate kept track of everyone on their specific jobs.

Simon started to harden up behind Johnny. Hands drifting over his body had Johnny closing his eyes and leaning into his lovers. The teeth at his nipple surprised him to the point of recoiling. Simon had the misfortune of resting at the edge of the bed. He hit the floor with a thump. Kyle and Johnny shared a look before they both started to laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. So funny,” Simon stood, rubbing his butt that had taken the brunt of the fall.

The men on the bed smirked as they now watched Simon stand a bit more at attention under their eyes. Before they can get Simon back into the nest John steps into the bedroom, shutting the door hard behind him.

They watch as John strips off his robe and strides into the shared closet. Kyle can only open his mouth before John is answering the yet-unspoken question.

“We need to get dressed. Kate brought us a wife.”

That had all of them moving. What the hell did he mean?

Scrambling into the closet each of them grabs the necessary clothes before shifting to standing around the nest so everyone has the elbow room they need to dress.

“John, what do you mean Kate brought us a wife?” Kyle asks after his head emerges from his turtleneck.

“Kate brought us a beta woman. She would like us to stop being so reckless on jobs. Thinks that having someone to come home to will keep us from killing ourselves on jobs.” John sits to put his socks on, threading a socked foot into his pants before standing and doing them up.

“So what’s the plan then Captain?” Simon questions as he feeds his belt through the loops of his pants. “Obviously we don’t need a beta.”

“A wife wouldn’t be terrible though,” Johnny pointed out as he tucked his thin layer into his pants and grabbed his own jumper. A bonnie to hold and smile at them when they stumble in through the door? That sounded amazing to him.

“The plan is Johnny and Kyle will be taking her to town for some clothes and a bed. Kate insists she gets a bed and a space to retreat to. Simon, I want you to see what you can sniff out from her clothes. Maybe check what Kate has been up to lately.” John pauses, shirt tucked into his armpits as he prepares to lift it over his head. “Something about her smells…wrong. You have a more sensitive nose than I do, I need your opinion on her. I’ll start working on cleaning out the room behind the kitchen.”

“What are Kyle and I watching for then John?” Johnny runs a hand over his hair, deciding that he wouldn’t need to do much about it since he would be putting on a beanie shortly.

“Anything we can glean from her. She didn’t say much after Kate left. Watched me until I came upstairs, lot of thoughts behind those eyes though. You’ll see what I mean.” John opened the door that led to the stairs.

They all trailed after him. John had been right. Something smelled off about you. Almost broken? It reminded Johnny of the time Simon said his sauce had “broke” and the fats and water and flavors no longer sat well together.

You are standing at the front window, staring out over the vast stretch of forest they owned all around the property. They had chosen this spot deliberately five years ago when they were buying land to build their home on. It backed up to a national forest and they would never have to worry about neighbors.

Johnny approaches you around the couch. You pull back slightly from the window and notice the fog your breath left on the glass. A finger is lifted, leaving a frowny face in its wake. When you turn to look at him Johnny sees what John meant about your eyes.

You don’t leak scents of displeasure or fear like anyone else would in this situation; no, the feelings bubble in your eyes instead. Your stress sat in your shoulders and the slight bend in your knees, not in your scent gland.

“‘ello, you can call me Johnny. We’re going to town to get you supplies for your room.” He smiles gently at you. You only narrow your eyes in response. “Where did Kate put your coat?”

You look from eye to eye three times before answering. “Kate didn’t get me a coat. Only had cash and she said I needed clothes more.”

Johnny liked Kate. He had never wanted to slap her more than in this moment though. Nodding once he lifted a hip to rest on the couch as he folded his arms. You wince as his anger is communicated through the air. Simon complained that his anger tasted of burning rubber.

“I have a coat you can borrow until we get you one in town. Would that be okay?” He probes gently.

The narrowing of your eyes is exactly what he expected. You were going to take a long time to trust them.

“How about we get the truck started and then you only need to wear it between the house and the car?” Johnny offered.

“Fine.” You cross your arms and cast your gaze back to the snow beyond the window.

Twisting Johnny catches Kyle’s eye as he lurks in the kitchen.

“Grab my coats would you?” He tilts his head to their new wife as if Kyle hadn’t heard the conversation echo due to the acoustics of the home.

Kyle grabs both coats from the closet near the front door and drops a kiss on Johnny’s lips before leaving to start the truck. John catches him with a kiss and a whisper. Johnny offers both coat options to you and watches with a smile as you grab the coat that smells less strongly of him.

By unspoken agreement Kyle and Johnny let you learn about them through the conversations they have during the drive. It takes nearly an hour despite the roads being clear and dry. The tourists creeping their way up the mountain roads always slowed things down. Kyle dropped you and Johnny off to head further into town to pick up a bed frame and a mattress.

Johnny watches you as you drift from store to store. They lived close to a ski resort and had several stores that sold everything from socks to pants and coats. You picked soft clothes, muted colors, and several of the same socks and underwear. He only saw your face light up once. You were softly stroking a garishly bright shawl as you held it up to the mirror. When you saw Johnny lift his brows at you in said mirror you put it back and moved on. He made note of its position in the store before following you.

When Kyle came back Johnny filled the back seat with the various bags.

“‘bout time for lunch, any preference?” Kyle asks you.

You shake your head looking much warmer in real winter boots and a long coat. Johnny had insisted at the last store visited that you needed a hat and a scarf as well. Hands shoved into your pockets you are covered as Simon is on jobs, nose tucked against the cold.

It is decided that a new Thai spot would be the answer. Johnny pulls the keys from Kyle’s hand and a kiss.

“I’ll be right there,” he murmured against his cheek before turning and disappearing around a corner.

When he slides into the booth next to you the food is hot and ready on the table.

“Didn’t know what you would like so I got a platter for the table,” Kyle hands you a bundle, a napkin wrapped around a fork, and a spoon.

Conversation flows, Kyle and Johnny are careful to leave space for you to add your thoughts on matters like what they should have for dinner or if they should roast marshmallows in the fire tonight. You pick at your food and watch them watch you. When Johnny and Kyle have eaten their fill and boxed up the remaining food they settle the bill and you follow them into the grocery store next door to the restaurant.

Kyle, ever practical, heads up the pharmacy first. You and Johnny follow.

He tosses a box of condoms to Johnny who catches it with ease, even with his off-hand.

“Do we need any of these?”

This is cause for you to break your silence.

“You won’t need those for me.” You are cut off with a cough, fist to your face.

“These aren’t for you, but why wouldn’t you need them?” Johnny glances over at you, brow cocked.

Your hand has moved, cupping your throat as you cough into your other elbow. A light sweat has started across your face and the coughs are getting harsher. When wheezing starts and your body begins to crunch in on itself Johnny takes off for a different section of the pharmacy.

Hollering at the pharmacist behind the counter he points your direction, “I need an epipen!”

The pharmacist tosses it to him over the counter and low shelves between them as she darts for the door. Johnny doesn’t wait, racing back to you. He couldn’t hear much over the racing of his heart. They hadn’t even had a wife for six hours and she was dying on them!

Kyle has you laid out on the floor as you gasp for air. Sliding in next to you as if he were stealing a base Johnny removes the EpiPen from its travel case, uncaps and presses his thumb down to the top, and slams home the needle into your outer thigh.

He starts counting to thirty, the pharmacist appearing at his side before he reaches ten. By fifteen you are gulping down air as tears steak into your hair.

“There is a clinic two buildings down from here.” She glances over you as she dials something on her phone. Fingers reach for your neck as she takes your pulse.

Kyle gently takes the hand batting at the pharmacist, placing a light kiss on the knuckles. You are sobbing now, heaving breaths and tears streaming down your temples.

“Hi, this is Dr. Kumar, the pharmacist down the street. I have a beta woman incoming with her partners for an allergic reaction. We have administered an EpiPen on site but since I am not an MD I am sending her to you to confirm she is okay.” Dr. Kumar pointed to Kyle with two fingers, then to you, and hooked at thumb toward the front door.

“We gotcha bonnie, we will keep you safe.” He murmured the mindless words of comfort at you, unable to keep from attempting to soothe you as your fear punched into his nose. Interesting, that.

Johnny pulled the pen from your leg, needle already retracted, and passed it off to Dr. Kumar as he helped sit you up. Breaths are coming easier already, your skin is clammy and your eyes wild. You hold onto Johnny’s hand like the last life raft from the Titanic. Kyle shifts his hands under your thighs, standing to the gasps of several old women. Johnny caught sight of them fanning themselves as they pushed through the crowd that had formed.

Dr. Kumar, still on the phone, directed people out of the way with a sharp word and saw them off at the door, face worried. Johnny nodded to her once as he kept pace with Kyle. Thank the gods that John ensured they all stayed in top form.

Your words are getting clearer the closer they get to the clinic.

“Please don’t let them touch me. Don’t leave me alone. Please. Please. Please.”

“We won’t leave you alone,” Kyle shifted one arm to hold you, rubbing your back with the other. “Just need to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am going to call John, can you handle this until I get off the phone?” Johnny winces at the tight grip you have on his hand. “Lass, Kyle will kill anyone who tries to hurt you.”

They pause outside the clinic where Johnny words his fingers free of yours. The look of panic on your face will haunt him until he dies.

Kyle chokes slightly as you clamp down on his neck with your arms. The clinic staff opened the door for him, ushering him straight to the back room. Johnny dials John’s number from memory rather than searching for it. Cars drift past him as he waits He picks up on the third ring.

“How is it going with our new wife, Johnny?” He grunts as if moving something heavy.

“Poorly. We nearly lost her in the pharmacy.”

“Well did you find her?” John huffs, slightly out of breath.

“Na John, she had an allergic reaction to something from lunch. Had to stab her in the leg with an EpiPen. Kyle is in the clinic with her right now.” Johnny crushed a small ball of ice and snow beneath his boot on the sidewalk.

“The fuck happened Johnny?” The sounds from the phone tell him that Simon is now listening too.

“Don’t know John, had lunch at the new Thai restaurant, went to the pharmacy and she started to cough and then couldn’t breathe. Kyle got her to lie down and I got meds from the pharmacist. Kyle is in the clinic with her now. I’ve never seen someone so panicked to go to the doc,” Johnny shoves his other hand in a pocket, focusing on crushing another ball of ice.

“Hold on, I am calling Kate,” John warns. The line goes silent.

Johnny looks into the clinic, seeing nothing beyond the simple decor and the receptionist behind the tall counter.

“Kate, our new wife had an allergic reaction at lunch. Is there anything else she should know about her?” John questions with barely contained rage.

A sigh is the only response at first.

“I don’t know John. I haven’t found all of her records yet.”

“What the fuck do you mean you haven’t found her records yet Kate? Where did you find her?”

“John, all I have on her is from the two weeks before the FBI raided. There is a lot I can’t tell you but what I can say on this unsecured line is you should do some research on arachnids.”

She drops off the line with a click. Scowling at the distance Johnny bites back the urge to start yelling at Kate. More riddles and questions.

“Get her home, Simon and I will clear out the peanuts from the house,” John sighs into his ear.

“Why peanuts? It could have been anything in the meal.” Johnny watches as a group of skiers, colorful as tropical birds, walk across the street on the opposite side.

“Could have been, but a swipe of peanut butter on her hand when she gets back will confirm. It’s a really common allergy and we won’t have time to take her for an allergy test until after Simon’s rut.”

Johnny nods to himself and then verbalizes his agreement before ending the call. The receptionist leads him straight back when he steps through the door.

You sit on the bed, eyes wide and light gone from them, quietly singing Edelweiss. Kyle stands with arms folded and back stiff. His work face is on. Something had happened.

“You are more than you appear, wife,” Johnny took your hand as he settled into a chair conveniently next to the bed. You stay distant until halfway through the drive home.

A/N: I did not mean for it to go this way... I keep fighting with myself to let everyone live to the end of the story....

Broken Masterlist | Masterlist

[futfemfantasies]

A wedding to remember ~ Steph Catley x reader

Weddings in vineyards are always beautiful but it's something about the venue under the Australian sunset that makes it stand out. With fairy lights decorating the trees and rustic vibes from the wooden tables, Emily and Kat designed it perfectly. You watch the newlyweds have their first dance, a glass of champagne in hand, when you notice a familiar brunette join your other Matilda's teammates across the dance floor.

Steph has been in your life since you were teenagers. Growing closer when on camps together and sharing moments on and off the pitch. Between you both there has always been an unspoken connection that neither person wants to acknowledge. For many years now, there has been one complication for your friendship to progress further - Dean. You told yourself over and over again that there was no chance anything could happen. But Steph got engaged to Dean and you couldn't stand to see it so you move clubs to protect your feelings. Every camp for the national team you'd try to hide your feelings but many of your Matilda's teammates caught on quickly. Every time Steph glances your way, it becomes harder for you to keep those feelings settled.

The sun started to move behind the horizon and more people moved to the dance floor. You decided to stay back and watch, not really in a dancing mood. You heard heels click behind you and you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned around and saw the woman taking over your thoughts since you arrived.

“Hey stranger,” She said softly.

“Hey,” you replied, trying not to appear nervous.

Steph smiled small, but warm. “You've been hiding over here all night.”

“Just enjoying the view.” you said, gesturing to the many trees in the vineyard.

Steph nodded, looking at the sunset and dimly lit trees before facing you again. “You've been radio silent lately, is everything okay?”

“Just a lot on my mind I guess.” you hesitated. Steph studied you, her expression unreadable.

“You know you can talk to me about anything?”

“I know.” you whisper before going to see your other Matilda's teammate.

Emily insisted that all the Matilda's are to go on the dance floor at least once during the night. Ellie dragged you on there, declaring you needed to ‘loosen up’. After pushing through the crowd, one of your favorite songs comes on. As you dance around with Ellie, she gives you a slight nod to look behind you. Steph was there with her hand outstretched, silently asking you to dance as the music got slower. You hesitate for a millisecond before taking Steph's hand. Time seemed to slow as Steph guided you to the middle of the dance floor. You placed your hand on her waist, trying to ignore all the feelings inside. Neither of you spoke for a while, just gently swaying with the soft melody, until Steph broke the silence.

“Dean and I broke up.” she said, voice quiet but steady.

You stopped in your tracks, looking Steph in the eyes. “what?”

“It's been coming for a while,” Steph admitted. “We both knew it wasn't working anymore,” Before you could respond she continued.

“I've been thinking a lot about what I want - about what makes me happy,” Her eyes met yours, hands tighten around your waist. “and it's you.”

Your breath hitched, as the weight of her words started to settle in. “Steph…”

“Follow me.”

Steph untangles from you and pushes her way through the crowd. You follow behind like a lost puppy until you get a little bit away from the reception. Steph pulls you in her arms and you search her face for any hint of doubt. There was only honesty and Hope.

“I've wanted to say this for so long,” you admit, as your voice trembled. “but I didn't think I could.”

Steph hold your face in one of her hands as she smiled, “well, now you can.”

With that, the distance between you became non-existent. the music Fading Into the background and all you can focus on is her. you both lean in and the wedding slowly forgotten as you two were caught up in each other.

The kiss under the stars changes everything. For the first time, the barriers between you and Steph crumble. As you pull back, your foreheads resting together, Steph smiles—a real, unforgettable smile that feels like home.

“We can’t keep this just for tonight,” she says softly.

You nod, your heart pounding. “I don’t want to.”

The rest of the wedding fades into a blur. You and Steph spend the next few days together, slipping away from the chaos to steal quiet moments just for yourselves. Long walks along the beach, lazy afternoons in the sun, and late-night conversations filled with laughter and shared memories remind you both of what you’ve always had—and what you could have.

As the offseason looms, you both return to Europe, reluctant to leave the bubble you’ve created but excited to see what the future holds. Steph heads back to London, while you return to Barcelona, the distance between you feeling more manageable now than ever before.

The transfer window is in full swing, and rumors are flying about player moves. You’ve kept your decision close to your chest, wanting to surprise Steph when the time is right. The deal with Arsenal has been finalised, and the announcement is just days away.

With the help of Caitlin and Katie, you arrange to meet Steph at one of your favorite coffee spots in London. She’s already seated at a corner table when you arrive, her face lighting up the moment she sees you.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” she says, standing to hug you.

You grin, nerves bubbling under the surface. “I have a surprise.”

“Oh?” she asks, raising an eyebrow as you both sit.

You slide an Arsenal scarf out of your bag and place it on the table between you. Steph stares at it for a moment, her eyes widening as realisation dawns.

“No way,” she says, her voice filled with disbelief and excitement.

“Way,” you reply, unable to keep the grin off your face. “The transfer is all finalised. I’m joining Arsenal next season.”

Steph laughs, leaning back in her chair as she takes it all in. “You’re serious?”

“Completely,” you say. “Thought it was time for a change—and maybe time to be closer to you.”

Her smile softens, and she reaches across the table to take your hand. “You have no idea how happy this makes me.”

For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

[littleslaywrites]

don’t stand so close to me | professor!spencer reid x student!reader 

nsfw, mdni

summary: you meet spencer at his office hours, despite the rumors that your classmates are spreading about your possible relationship

word count: 2.3k

cw: f!reader, smut, fingering, p in v sex, protected sex, semi-public, office sex

You weren’t sure how anyone could pay attention to Professor Reid’s class. Not when he was standing there, looking gorgeous behind the lectern. Every time you almost could focus, he’d make eye contact with you, stopping your train of thought in its tracks. 

It was even worse when you went to office hours. He was the awkward type of charming, making you blush as he helped you with your work. You had to stop going a few weeks ago as you’d end up soaked and frustrated by the time you left.

Not only was your absence to keep you from wanting him too badly, but you were more than aware of the way your classmates spoke of you. Rumors passed were tossed around, speculating on your relationship to Professor Reid. You explained this away, reminding those who were bold enough to approach you that you were one of the few students who wasn’t auditing the class, so it was only logical that you’d spend more time in his office than those who weren’t being graded.

What you couldn’t explain away, though, was the way he looked at you. “I swear to god, he bit his lip when he looked at her,” one girl sitting behind you whispered to her friend. You tried not to blush, both embarrassed by the attention and hopeful that what they said was true. 

As a result of your distraction and avoidance of office hours, you did less than ideally on your last exam, so you set out to go to his office on a Friday afternoon. You felt nervous on the way there, heart rate increased at the prospect of seeing your professor so closely.

His office was deep inside one of the halls, on a basement floor and down a long hallway. Approaching the wooden door, you slowly open it, even more nervous than before, now that you’ve realized you’re the only one around. 

“Good afternoon,” you say awkwardly when you step inside the office. Professor Reid is behind a large wood desk, taking notes inside a book. The lamp in front of him is the only thing providing illumination, and you can’t help but think of how good he looks in the low light. 

“Good afternoon,” he echoed, closing the book. “Sit down.”

You obey, taking a seat in the chair in front of him.

“I assume this is related to your last exam,” he says as he opens a drawer and pulls out a folder. You nod, too nervous to speak. The warm dimness is similar to the lighting that’d be found in an intimate restaurant. You try to banish the inappropriate thoughts, knowing how wrong it is to think about your professor in this way. 

He produces your test, laying it in front of him. “You’ve stopped coming to office hours,” he says, looking over your answers. 

The silence prompts you to respond, letting out a small “yes”. 

He then begins to go over the test, answer by answer. You’re trying to focus, but his long fingers are running along the words on the page, pulling your attention away. 

He reaches a question that’s particularly marked up with red writing, and turns the paper around. Leaning in, he begins to show you the mistakes on the short answer. He’s monologuing, saying something about behavioral positivism. Your gaze is downcast, too nervous to make eye contact, and instead opting to focus on the paper. 

“Look at me,” he says suddenly. Your eyes shoot up, and you fight not to blush as his brown eyes study yours. “It seems like you’re distracted.”

You have no reply. He leans forward in your silence. “What are you thinking about?” 

“I’m not–”

“Yes, you are.” He motions for you to come closer, and you lean in. Your faces are close, close enough to feel each other’s breath. You can’t seem to pull your eyes away from him. “Is it me?”

You’re still speechless. Your mind is racing as you try to find a response. It doesn’t help when he reaches a hand up and pushes your hair behind your ear. He’s scandalously close now, lips just inches from yours. 

“Am I what you’re thinking about?”

“Yes,” you murmur, shy from the admission. 

Your confession is all he needs, and he closes the distance between you. His lips cover yours as his hands grab the sides of your face. 

If there was anything left in your brain, it’s gone now. His kiss is soft and his touch is firm. You close your eyes and give in to the sensation of his tongue invading your mouth. It’s a gentle intrusion, like a soft breeze slipping through an open window on a hot day.

When you pull away to catch your breath, his teeth hold onto your bottom lip before releasing you. 

“Lock the door,” he says in a low voice. You follow his directions and turn back to see him dumping everything atop the desk into a drawer. Your legs are like jelly, and you think that you must be dreaming. “Come here,” he commands, and you meet him behind the desk.

You stand face to face, and he’s staring down at you. Even in the dimness, you can see something in his eyes– lust.

“Do you want this,” he almost whispers, “do you want me?”

His question reminds you of his introverted nature. You feel a bit more at ease as you realize he’s almost as nervous as you are.

“Yes,” you whisper back.

He reaches out to touch you, hand snaking around your waist as he pulls you into another kiss. He’s nipping at your mouth and suckling at the places on your lips where he’s bitten you. You only break apart when he pulls off your shirt. His large hands go to your bare skin, running along your torso, stopping briefly to squeeze at your breasts.

His tongue pokes out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip, and you need to kiss him again. You lean in, hands finding the back of his and gripping at his hair. He groans into your mouth, the vibrations going straight to your core.

You let go of his hair and begin to work on his tie. Pulling it away from his collar, you throw it somewhere in the room, and begin to unbutton his shirt. You’re desperate to feel his bare skin on yours. When you’ve gotten all the buttons undone, he shrugs off his shirt and backs up to pull his undershirt off. 

You stare at each other for a moment, fighting shyness as you feel exposed in your black bra. 

He makes the first move, grabbing your hips to guide you to the desk. He pushes you against it, mouth going to your neck to leave sloppy kisses.

While he’s focused on marking you up, you unbutton your jeans and kick them away, leaving you only in your underwear. To make it even, you reach for his pants, pulling the belt out of its loops. You make it as far as getting his zipper down before he pushes your hands away.

You’re trapped between the desk and his leaning form. His breath is hot against your face, nose pressing against each other as you catch your breath. 

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers into your ear, lips brushing against you. “Why’d you stop coming to my office hours?”

“I–” your words catch in your throat as his long fingers brush you from outside your underwear.

“Was it because of what they say about us?” He pulls the crotch of your panties to the side and feels the dampness that’s been pooling since the moment you entered the room. “Why don’t we prove them right?”

All of his questions go unanswered, as your mind is consumed with the way he’s touching you. “Please,” you whine as he thumbs at your clit as lightly as he can. 

“Good girl, so polite,” he says to himself as he slips a finger in you. You moan, his digit brushing against your velvety walls. In response, he adds another finger, thrusting slowly.

"Professor Reid…” you whimper as his fingers reach deep inside you.

“Spencer,” he says, looking down at you with dilated pupils. “Call me Spencer.”

You have no words to call him anything when he curls his fingers, and you cry out. You’re glad he’s pressed against you, as you’re sure your legs would be unable to support you without his help. 

Before you can reach your climax, he pulls his hand away, briefly sucking his fingers to taste you. 

“Spencer,” you whine, feeling empty. 

He grabs your ass once before pulling your panties down. “Sit,” he says, guiding you to the side of the desk, and you lift yourself up to the desk. Your legs dangle awkwardly, and you worry that your wetness is pooling on the wood below you.

He reaches around to take off your bra, discarding it at your feet. He lightly kisses your chest, licking your nipple once before stepping back to take his own pants off. 

You’re nothing short of desperate as you watch him undress. Even without his touch, you’re breathless, mindlessly grinding against the desk below you.

“Needy girl,” he says as he sees the way you’re watching him. 

“Please, Spencer,” you say, hand moving to circle your clit when you see the bulge in his underwear. “I need you inside me.”

“Anything you want, baby.”

He pushes you down so you’re on your back. His hands explore your naked form, touch electric against your skin. Every brush of his fingers has you rubbing your legs together to relieve any pressure you can. 

You whine as he teases you, and he can’t resist when you begin to mindlessly spread your legs from him. He grabs your hips and pulls you to the edge of the desk, and your legs wrap around his hips.

He leans down to place a quick kiss on your stomach before he rids himself of his underwear. His cock is now free, and you see the precum dripping out of his slit.

You’re barely resisting the urge to beg when he runs his tip along your pussy. He groans, head thrown back as he ruts against you. His hands press down on your hips to keep you from moving against him. 

“Stop teasing.” Your words are nearly sobs, barely escaping as you pant. 

“Sorry, baby,” he groans. “You just feel too good.”

He pulls a drawer open, rummaging through before retrieving a condom. He rolls it onto his length, stroking himself once before moving to touch you again. 

Squeezing at the flesh on your hips, he pushes inside, making it about a third of the way before he has to stop. 

He puts a hand down on the desk and leans above you. He breathes rhythmically to keep himself from finishing inside you before he can even get all the way in. Your plush walls overwhelm him, wrapping him up in a warm embrace.

When he’s sure he can last, he pushes all the way inside. He lets out a whimper, and you think it's the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. Your hips are grinding against him as much as they can while he’s holding you down.

Slowly, he pulls away and pushes back inside, feeling the way you squeeze him. He’s let go of any remaining dignity, whining and whimpering as he thrusts. 

You can feel every twitch of his cock, back arching as his length strokes your insides. You feel complete, like his cock was made just to fill you up. 

His hands run along your legs, pulling them higher to reach you at a deeper angle. He’s hitting you in just the right spot, now. His breath quivers as his thrusts become more manic. 

Your pussy flutters around him as his skin slaps against yours. He swears he can feel your heartbeat around his cock. 

You’d feel self-conscious of your sounds if you didn’t know how empty the building is. Spencer’s eyes are closed as he groans along with you, noises combing until you don’t know whose moans are who’s. The sound of his skin against your ass fills the room, a sinful symphony that’d make your activities obvious to anyone that happened to walk by.

“Spencer, I’m…” your words turn into a sigh as his tip hits your sweet spot.

“I know,” he says, “me, too.”

His thrusts become disorganized as he tries to hold on until you cum. He’s determined to make you finish first.

Your legs wrap tightly against his waist as you feel your orgasm begin to overtake you. A rush of warmth comes over your whole body as your pleasure peaks. You let out an obnoxious moan, back arching as your skin flushes.

Spencer lets go when he feels the telling tightening around his cock. He shudders as he fills the condom, head thrown back as he shamelessly whimpers.

The two of you stay like that for a minute, trying to force your breathing to return to normal. He regretfully pulls out of you, burying the condom in the trash under some discarded papers. 

Moving back to where you're laying, he lightly runs hands along your legs, bringing you back to reality. Suddenly, you realize that you’re sitting in a pool of your own fluids, and you feel a little embarrassed.

“I’m sorry I made a mess of your desk,” you say, fighting shyness again.

“You can ruin my desk any day.” He grabs your hand and pulls you up so you’re sitting with him standing between your legs.

He runs his fingers through your hair, and you lean your head against his chest.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, concern lacing his words.

“Good. Really good.”

He hums, a hand stroking your back. 

“So you’ve heard the rumors,” you say, remembering his earlier remarks.

“Maybe.”

“I guess we gave them something to talk about.”

He chuckles. “Will you start coming to office hours again?”

“You’ve convinced me." You meet his eyes, and a plants a soft kiss on your forehead "You’re very persuasive.”

[waitforyrlove]

are you sure is it casual with slytherin ! matt ? read this to understand this drabble better.

inspired by the song casual by chappel roan.

the days following that night were an emotional blur. It was as though the encounter with Matt had lit a fire in your chest, one that you couldn’t seem to extinguish no matter how hard you tried.

every glance, every word he spoke to you felt like it carried an undertone of something unspoken, something simmering just beneath the surface.

but Matt? Matt was as maddeningly infuriating as ever, acting as though nothing had happened. Like almost kissing you hadn’t meant anything.

and yet, that smirk of his haunted you. It lingered in your mind late at night, as you tossed and turned, replaying the way he’d looked at you, the way he’d stopped just short of something that would have changed everything.

you hated him for it.

but more than that, you hated the way you wanted more.

it was Friday evening, and the castle was alive with its usual end-of-week energy. Laughter and chatter filled the corridors as students flitted between the Great Hall and their common rooms, some heading out for the weekend’s mischief, others settling into their usual routines. You, however, couldn’t shake the restlessness crawling beneath your skin.

maybe that was why you found yourself wandering the castle aimlessly after dinner, your thoughts tangled and impossible to organize.

that’s when you saw him.

Matt stood at the edge of the Astronomy Tower, leaning against the railing with his usual air of practiced ease. The moonlight bathed him in silver, softening the sharp lines of his face and illuminating the streaks of dark green in his robes. He didn’t see you at first, his gaze fixed on the horizon, but the sight of him stopped you in your tracks.

you told yourself to turn around, to walk away before he noticed you, but your body betrayed you. Your heart betraye the weekend’s mischief, others settling into their usual routines. You, however, couldn’t shake the restlessness crawling beneath your skin.

before you could decide what to do, he turned, catching sight of you in the doorway. His expression shifted instantly, his usual smirk curling onto his lips like a reflex.

“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” he drawled, his voice low and teasing.

you rolled your eyes, summoning every ounce of defiance you had left. “Hardly. The castle’s big enough for both of us. Don’t flatter yourself.”

he chuckled, the sound warm and irritatingly inviting. “Sure it is. And yet here you are.”

you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to ignore the way his eyes seemed to drink you in like you were something fascinating. “I didn’t realize you had a claim on the Astronomy Tower.”

“I don’t.” He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was testing how far he could push you before you ran. “But I can’t say I mind the company.”

you held your ground, refusing to back away as he approached. Your pulse quickened, a familiar, maddening heat creeping up your spine. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?” he asked, stopping just short of your personal space. His voice softened, the teasing edge giving way to something almost sincere. “Go on, sweetheart. Tell me what’s so awful about me.”

you glared up at him, your frustration bubbling over. “You’re insufferable. You’re arrogant, manipulative, and you think everything’s a game.”

he raised an eyebrow, his smirk faltering for a fraction of a second. “And you keep playing.”

the words hit you like a punch to the chest. You wanted to deny it, to argue, but the truth hung in the air, suffocating you.

he was right. You did keep playing, despite everything. Despite the way his teasing twisted your insides or the way his presence seemed to fill every empty space inside you.

you took a step back, trying to find your voice, but it came out quieter than you’d intended. “What do you want from me, Matt?” The words were out before you could stop them, laced with a mix of confusion, frustration, and something else—something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

his expression softened just a little, the teasing fading. “What if I told you I didn’t want anything?” He leaned in, his gaze steady on yours. “What if I just wanted to see if you’d let me get close enough to figure you out?”

your heart thudded painfully in your chest. It felt like the whole world had gone silent, like there was only the two of you in this moment, standing on the precipice of something you couldn’t name. Your breath hitched as his eyes flicked down to your lips, and for a second, everything felt still.

then, before you could make sense of the situation or stop yourself, he was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. Your pulse raced, the space between you charged with tension, and it seemed like he was going to close the distance. The temptation to close your eyes, to lean into him, was almost overwhelming. You could feel the pull between you, magnetic, undeniable.

but you stopped yourself.

you took a shaky breath and stepped back, shaking your head, trying to clear the haze that had clouded your mind. “I can’t do this,” you whispered, almost as if you were trying to convince yourself. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

his gaze darkened for just a moment, before that damnable smirk returned. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?” he murmured, eyes gleaming. “You’re so busy trying to keep your distance, trying to keep control, that you’re missing everything right in front of you.”

his words hung in the air like a challenge. You wanted to argue, to tell him that he didn’t know you at all, that this—whatever this was—wasn’t going to happen. But there was a part of you that didn’t want to fight it anymore. You didn’t want to be the person who kept pushing him away, who refused to acknowledge what was brewing between you.

instead, you turned and started to walk away, your hands trembling at your sides. The soft sound of his footsteps echoed behind you, a reminder that he was always too close, always a little too present.

“Don’t walk away from me,” Matt called after you, his voice low and commanding.

you stopped, but didn’t turn around, your back to him. “What do you want?”

he didn’t answer right away, and for a second, the night seemed to hold its breath. Then, his voice, quiet but steady, reached you. “I want you to stop running.”

you closed your eyes briefly, fighting the wave of emotions crashing over you. “I’m not running.”

“Sure you’re not.” as his laugh was almost a growl.

when you finally turned around, you saw that he hadn’t moved—still leaning against the stone wall, watching you with a quiet intensity. You could feel the tension between you like a live wire, sparking, threatening to catch fire.

he took a step toward you, the space between you narrowing once again. The moment stretched on, both of you standing there, unsure of what would happen next, but knowing it would change everything.

“One day,” he said, his voice soft, almost a promise, “you’ll stop pretending like this doesn’t matter.”

you didn’t respond, couldn’t find the words. Instead, you turned and walked away, faster now, desperate to put distance between you and the pull he had over you.

but as you walked back through the darkened corridors of the castle, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over.

and in the pit of your stomach, you feared it was just the beginning.

the days that followed were a strange blur. You kept your distance from Matt—or at least you tried to. Every glance across the Great Hall, every passing moment in the corridors, seemed charged with an unspoken tension. He didn’t try to corner you, didn’t follow up on his words that night. But his gaze lingered. Always.

it was maddening.

you couldn’t focus on anything—your classes, your friends, even simple conversations. His words played on a loop in your mind. “One day, you’ll stop pretending like this doesn’t matter.”

and the worst part? You were beginning to believe him.

one evening, you were sitting in the common room, pretending to study while the fire crackled beside you. The rest of your housemates had dwindled off to bed, leaving you in relative silence. But the book in front of you remained unread. Your thoughts were elsewhere—back in that corridor, back to the way Matt had looked at you, like he knew you better than you knew yourself.

with a frustrated sigh, you closed the book and leaned back against the armchair, but a knock at the window jolted you from your thoughts.

your brow furrowed as you glanced over. The Gryffindor tower wasn’t exactly easy to reach—so when you saw an owl perched on the stone sill, you knew something was up. Rising to your feet, you opened the latch, and the bird hopped inside, holding out its leg with a note attached.

you hesitated, because owls didn’t usually bring you notes. Not at this hour.

with trembling fingers, you untied the parchment and unrolled it. The handwriting was unmistakable.

“Meet me. Astronomy Tower. Midnight. Don’t make me come find you.”

you stared at the note, torn between ignoring it and the pull of curiosity that was impossible to resist. Midnight was only a few minutes away, and you knew that if you didn’t show, he’d make good on his promise. He always did.

with a resigned sigh, you grabbed your cloak and slipped out of the common room, the castle quiet around you as you navigated the dark halls. Your steps were light, cautious, but your heart was anything but calm. You weren’t sure what you were walking into—what Matt wanted from you this time.

the Astronomy Tower loomed ahead, its spiral staircase winding upward. You climbed, your breaths shallow and quick, until you reached the top.

there he was.

Matt stood at the edge of the tower, leaning against the stone railing. The moonlight painted him in silver, his dark robes catching the faint breeze. He turned at the sound of your footsteps, and that familiar smirk spread across his face.

“You came,” he said, his voice low and amused, like he hadn’t doubted it for a second.

you crossed your arms, trying to keep your composure. “Why am I here?”

he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pushed off the railing and closed the distance between you, his steps unhurried, deliberate. His gaze held yours, sharp and searching, and you felt that same pull you’d been trying to ignore.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said simply, his tone casual but with an edge of something darker.

“Maybe I’ve been busy.”

“Couldn’t get me off your mind, could you?” His smirk stayed in place, but his tone was quieter, almost teasing, as his eyes searched yours for something unspoken.

your cheeks burned, and you hated how easily he saw through you. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you muttered, turning away from him to look out at the castle grounds below.

but Matt wasn’t having it. He stepped closer, his voice dropping. “I don’t think I have to. You do that enough for both of us.”

you turned to snap at him, but the words caught in your throat when you saw how close he was. His usual teasing smirk was gone, replaced by something more serious, more intense. His gaze flicked to your lips for just a second, and the world seemed to hold its breath.

“Matt…” you began, your voice faltering.

“Stop pretending, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice soft but insistent. “You want this just as much as I do.”

your pulse thundered in your ears. You should push him away. You should say something—anything—to break the moment. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because deep down, you knew he was right.

and when he leaned in, you didn’t stop him.

his lips brushed yours, tentative at first, as if he was waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you leaned into him, your hands clutching the fabric of his robes as the kiss deepened. It was electric, overwhelming, and for a moment, everything else melted away. The games, the tension, the endless push and pull—it all disappeared, leaving only this.

when you finally broke apart, both of you breathing heavily, his forehead rested against yours.

“See?” he whispered, his voice rough. “Not so hard to admit, is it?”

you stared at him, your emotions a chaotic mess. Part of you wanted to argue, to push him away and retreat to the safety of denial. But another part—the part that had been fighting this for weeks—knew there was no going back now.

your breath mingled with his as you stayed close, the silence between you heavy, electric. Matt’s hand lingered on your waist, his touch firm yet teasing, like he was testing the limits of how far you’d let him go.

your heart thundered in your chest, and for a brief moment, you thought—hoped—that maybe this was real. That maybe the games were over.

but then he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, and the smirk returned.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he said, his tone light, almost mocking.

the vulnerability you’d been feeling, the whirlwind of emotions that had overtaken you, suddenly felt exposed, raw. You blinked, taken aback by his casual dismissal, like what had just happened didn’t carry the same weight for him as it had for you.

“Is that all this was to you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You hated how uncertain you sounded, but you needed to know.

Matt’s eyes flickered, something unreadable passing through them, but it was gone just as quickly. He stepped back, putting space between you, and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Come on, don’t get all serious on me now,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “It’s just a kiss.”

your chest tightened. Just a kiss. The words hit you harder than they should have, like a slap to the face. After everything—the tension, the pull between you, the way he’d looked at you moments ago—it felt like a betrayal.

“That’s it?” you demanded, your voice sharper now. “All of this—everything you’ve done—and it’s just a game to you?”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered by your growing anger. “I never said it was more than that.”

you stared at him, trying to reconcile the person standing in front of you with the one who’d kissed you like he meant it. “You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, stepping away.

Matt let out a low chuckle, but there was no warmth in it. “Don’t act so surprised, sweetheart. You knew what you were getting into.”

“No,” you snapped, turning back to face him. “I didn’t. I thought—” You stopped yourself, shaking your head. What had you thought? That you’d somehow reached the part of him that wasn’t cold and calculating? That he actually cared?

Matt’s smirk widened, but there was something sharp behind it, something that cut. “You thought what? That this meant something?” He took a step closer, his voice softening but still carrying that edge. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking this is more than what it is.”

“Which is what, exactly?” you shot back, your anger flaring now.

“Fun,” he said simply, shrugging as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re fun. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to change who I am for you. Don’t expect me to.”

the weight of his words settled over you like a lead blanket. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, every part of you screaming to walk away, to leave him standing there with his smug grin and his twisted sense of satisfaction. But it still hurt. It hurt more than it should have.

“You’re a coward,” you said, your voice trembling with barely-contained emotion. “You hide behind this act like you don’t care about anything or anyone, but you’re just scared. Scared of actually feeling something.”

his smirk faltered for a split second, but he quickly recovered, his expression hardening. “And you’re naive if you think that little speech is going to change anything.”

the words stung, but you refused to let him see it. You squared your shoulders, lifting your chin. “You can keep playing your games, Matt. But don’t think for a second I’m going to let you drag me down with you.”

you turned on your heel, the cool night air biting at your skin as you made your way toward the staircase. You didn’t look back, even though every part of you ached to.

“Suit yourself,” his voice called out, low and taunting, though there was an edge to it now that you couldn’t quite place. “But don’t pretend you won’t come running back. They always do.”

you clenched your fists tighter, forcing yourself to keep walking, even as his words echoed in your mind. You didn’t stop, didn’t turn around, even when the sting of tears blurred your vision.

because you knew he was wrong. He had to be.

© waitforyrlove. all rights deserved. do not copy my works. or modify my work.

taglist: @secretlocket @pearlzier @et6rnalsun @mattscoquette @carvedtits @sirenedeslily @mattslolita @flouvela @bella-loveschris @lovingregulusblack @sarosfilms @annsx03 @eliana-4200 @wakeupitschrizz @emely9274 @sturniolossss @sturnslutz @sturnlsstuff @sweetcowboycollection @sturnioloangell @xoxoshanelle

˙ . ꒷ 🪽 notes from author ˙— hai !! i missed this fuckass bitch

[please-destroy]

Falling Into It

Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

.

Sometimes, people get confused between embarrassment and shame.

Embarrassment is a reddened cheeks, eyes to the floor and a faltering laugh kind of feeling. It’s when you walk past Natasha and feel her eyes on you. It’s losing your train of thought whenever she enters the room.

Shame is the permanent lump in your throat. It is the worry that someone else will notice the way you look at her. It is knowing that you might only be welcome in your home because you are pretending.

-

You first visited the Avengers Compound because you had become friends with Wanda. You’d been hesitant to accept her invite, only saying yes when you noticed how nervous she was to ask.

That evening, you’d found yourself sharing takeout with the whole team in the living room, accidentally encroaching on a post-mission celebration. You’d never settled into a group of friends so seamlessly. It was like walking into a world upside down. The boring, everyday details of your life filled the others with fascination.

Steve asked follow up questions to every story you shared. 

Tony told you jokes about the other Avengers, like you were an old friend. 

Wanda looked at you like she was so glad to have brought you.

Clint asked if you had a boyfriend and you avoided the question.

Then Natasha had walked in, delayed by her mission debrief, and it had physically hurt to see someone so beautiful. You tried to push the feeling down. Natasha looked over at you, the obvious newcomer, and her eyes darted meaningfully to your lips. You felt the immediate stain of want for her. She marked your skin before her lips ever touched you. 

-

But, her lips did touch you.

The second time you visited, Natasha found you alone in the hallway. Her eyes met yours with a look that invited challenge. You gulped involuntarily. Then, she moved towards you and you stopped in your tracks. Natasha’s hand touched your chest and you felt compelled to her like a magnet.

Natasha pressed you against the wall. She kissed you so hard that it felt like a tidal wave. A million little particles hitting you at once and somehow you stayed standing. Your hands held the soft curve of her waist and you felt an ache run through you. Her tongue was in your mouth and she tasted like warm things that you couldn’t name. You felt your own moan reach the back of her throat. Lost parts of you pieced themselves back together. You fell into the feeling.

-

When she pulled away, Natasha brushed your cheek with her thumb and you realised you were crying.

‘Don’t worry.’ She promised. ‘We don’t have to tell anyone.’

It was the kindest thing she could have done. But it also hurt the most.

-

Soon, what you were and who you wanted began to bleed through the cracks that Natasha had made in you. You caught moments with her like catching leaves in the wind. Her hand brushed yours when you passed each other in the kitchen. You kissed her in the shadows when she met you by your car. Her hands roamed your body whenever you found yourselves alone.

After two months they offered you a room at the Compound. The gesture meant everything. You’d never fit in easily before and now the superheroes wanted you around.

‘No mixed sleepovers.’ Tony teased and suddenly, you felt like a liar.

-

When you walked to your new room that night, Natasha opened her door and pulled you into hers instead. You fell into the feeling all over again.

You touched her skin, silky with soap suds, in the shower. You let your hands move over her breasts, watched the way she bit her lip and heard the low moan that slipped out too. It felt more right than you ever thought it could.

Then, Natasha’s finger stroked along you and you pressed yourself into her palm. You felt a need build in you, raw and desperate.

When Natasha unwound you with a slow finger curl, you made a sound and a shudder that you couldn’t control. 

-

You crawled into Natasha’s bed after. She held you close and you let her arms keep you for the night. Head on Natasha’s shoulder, you watched her breasts rise with every breath and, all in a rush, you felt that you were whole.

You could see now that there was no stopping it. Still, you didn’t accept it. 

It is impossible to embrace shame. It doesn’t free you like anger can, it just settles like a weight on your heart.

-

Time passed and the Compound became your second home. The team became the people you saw everyday, the people you trusted. Sometimes, they still asked you about boys. Your throat closed up every time. They thought you were shy.

You thought that if you told them, they’d forget all the other parts of you. They’d just see the lump in your throat that you couldn’t get rid of.

You saw all the goodness in Wanda, she made you smile everyday. You kept her secrets and she respected the privacy of your own thoughts. You watched her brighten a little more with every day that passed. She was your best friend.

Natasha kept her distance from you in front of the others.

‘She’s just being Natasha.’ Steve assured you more than once, worried you were taking it to heart.

You knew that.

You knew Natasha. You slept in her bed. 

You felt stuck, dreading change and longing for it too. Each time Natasha made your heart skip a beat, it felt more dangerous.

You were falling into the feeling and you couldn't even say the words to her.

-

You knew the vague answers that you gave the team had slowly turned into a false identity. You told yourself that you were the same person underneath, but the lines felt blurred. The guilt was worse with Wanda. She told you sometimes about trying to come to terms with herself, with the things she couldn’t control and the things she could. You felt so ashamed of your secret. You tried to pour it into your support of her. 

Wanda told you once, sitting in her room together, that you were like her sister. You knew how brave she was to claim you as family. She didn’t truly know you and that was your fault.

-

One night, you sat with several of the team watching a movie. They’d spent a mission using the comms to decide that it was criminal that Steve and Bucky hadn’t ever seen Jurassic Park. When Wanda admitted she hadn’t either, you’d all found yourself roped into the evening. 

Natasha sat on the opposite sofa from you, legs resting across Clint’s lap. You shared a bowl of popcorn with Wanda, who couldn’t keep her eyes off the screen.

The movie was halfway through when Natasha came over. The stillness in the room came from collective surprise; Natasha rarely directly interacted with you. You felt nerves bubble up, at her and at the audience. She took off her sweater and gave it to you.

‘Here.’ Natasha murmured, like no one was watching. ‘You look cold.’

The team shared smiles at the building of bridges between you. You pulled on the sweater. You revelled in its warmth, in the unexpected kindness. You met Natasha's eyes across the room and knew it was meant to be the hug that she couldn’t give you. You inhaled her scent and your mind filled with her. You fell into the feeling.

Wanda stiffened next to you. In the half second where your eyes met, you saw the alarm in hers. You hadn’t been careful with your thoughts and she hadn’t been trying not to listen. Shame burned through you and you ripped yourself away.

‘Too scary.’ You muttered at the Velociraptors on screen and fled to your room.

-

You lay on your bed and let loud music play, keeping everyone out. Only once did you recognise Wanda’s footsteps.

Don’t come in here. You thought desperately. You listened before, so listen now.

Later, you heard Tony and Clint’s muttered conversation in the corridor.

‘It must be about a boy.’

You let yourself cry.

-

Wanda woke you up in the morning. She opened the door and walked to the end of your bed. You only had time to feel a stab of apprehension.

‘I’m sorry for listening.’ She told you directly.

‘I’m so ashamed.’ You said, voice small.

‘There’s nothing wrong with you (Y/N). You’re still my sister.’

You didn’t realise it was what you needed to hear until Wanda said it.

-

Sometimes, you still get that gnawing feeling that you are not quite right. 

Except now, Natasha kisses you as soon as she gets back from her mission. Now, Wanda sends you photos of when you fall asleep with Natasha during a movie. Now, you make one your lock screen. 

-

Wanda texts you a website link for the local Pride event. 

Clint tells you that he’ll paint rainbows on your faces.

‘I’m going to claim the face paint as a work expense.’ He tells you, but he looks over at Natasha like he owes her an apology that he doesn’t know how to say. ‘What do you think Fury’s going to say about that?’ 

Now, Natasha wakes up with a coffee mug that says ‘Love is Love’ and Clint sends her photos of the pair of you too.

.

Natasha holds your hand and kisses you in the sunshine, the crowd around you hums into background noise. Her eyes watch you when you break apart. When you smile at her, she smiles right back.

Maybe, most people aren’t like you, but that’s not so bad.

Most people aren’t like Natasha either.

[anticapitalistclown]

clownie, lookism boys reacting to reader calling them husband!

sure!

Lookism boys reacting to reader calling them "husband"

You received a call from your friend asking to hang out for a few drinks "let me ask my husband and I'll call you back" he raised an eyebrow and asked you with a smile "husband?" you looked at him and answered "look at us" you were reading a book on the bed/sofa as he was reading the newspaper next to you, both wearing matching pajamas and old socks. He looked at the situation and left a slight smile "you can go out with your friend, wife".

Taesoo, Gun, Zack, Jichang

You were on a date with him and the entire time he was smiling at you lovingly "keep smiling at me like that and by the end of the day I'll end up calling you husband" you teased him, he stopped in his tracks and squeezed your hand, only to show you his blush and a wider smile "for real? I just can't stop smiling when I'm with you" now you're also blushing and smiling, such cute lovebirds.

Jake, Daniel, Eli, Seongji

You both were shopping in the market looking for the ingredients for tonight's cooking date, you were clung on his arm, when you bumped into that nosy aunt, you wanted to mess with her and him so you introduced him as your husband "auntie, this is my husband" he got dead silent for a second only to laugh inside and play along "aigoo nice to meet you auntie" he shook his hand with her, after making up your wedding and saying goodbye he tilted his head to you "so husband, huh?" you smiled at him "yeah you wish" "yeah I wish" "what?" "what?"

Goo, Jewoo, James, Jaegyeon, Mujin, Geongseob

You were shopping when a vendor recommended you a product "with this meat offer your husband will be happy to eat more at home!" you looked around for him "husband!" he didn't hesitate and rushed to you, a red tint decorating his cheeks "do you think it is a good bid?" he nodded "yes honey" he was screaming inside.

Hudson, Zack, Johan, Warren, Jason,

[thursdayinspace]

ficlet: quarantine

I needed fluff, so I wrote some. Perhaps a little messy, but definitely fluffy, post-Firewalker. They're in quarantine and Scully is bored. Mulder isn't.

She expected him to get restless and irritable before the end of their first day in quarantine. It’s been five days now, and although he’s been pacing a lot and at times talked for fifteen minutes straight about random cryptids she’d never heard about before, he does seem to be handling this a lot better than she is. Most of the time, he seems almost content.

She can’t say the same about herself. There’s simply nothing to do and she’s bored out of her mind. Standing still gives her too much time to think, and that’s the last thing she wants to be doing right now.

“Are you even listening to me?” he asks, and when she looks up at him from her seat on her uncomfortable chair and meets his eyes across the tiny table they use for their meals, the corners of his mouth are twitching with a barely held-back grin.

“No,” she admits. “Sorry. What were you saying? Something about… banjos?”

“Banshees,” he says. “It doesn’t matter. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.” She sighs.

“Come on.” He leans forward, arms folded on the table. “You can talk to me. There’s… actually not much else to do here.”

“Yeah.” She leans back with another sigh. “That’s exactly the problem.”

“You’re bored?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Well.” He shrugs. “Yeah. Of course I’m bored. We have nothing to do and nowhere to go and there’s absolutely nothing good on TV.”

“And we’re gonna be stuck here for several more weeks,” she points out, pushing herself up out of her chair to walk over to their single window. It’s completely dark outside. Time has lost all meaning. It could be late evening. It could be past midnight. It doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

“It’s not so bad,” he says, and she twirls around to him.

“Mulder, there is nothing to do here. Nothing.”

“So we’ll come up with something,” he suggests, getting up and making his way over to her. He stands so close she has to lean her head all the way back to look up at him. She’s in her socks and he’s so tall. And he’s smiling. Something aches deep in her gut.

“Like what?” she asks.

“I don’t know.” He bites his lip and seems to think about it.

He’s so beautiful it hurts her heart. Being stuck here is bad enough. Being stuck here with him is torture. Ever since she came back, he’s been so attentive, so careful with her. She can feel him looking at her when he thinks she won’t notice. And he’s always there. All the time. As if he’s afraid she’ll disappear again. And she doesn’t know what any of it means. She knows he wore her necklace when she was missing.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he says at last, and that makes her laugh out loud.

“We can’t,” she reminds him. “We literally can’t, Mulder.”

“Sure we can.”

He takes her hand and places it in the crook of his elbow, eyes sparkling as he grins at her widely.

“What are you—” She shakes her head. “What are we doing?”

“I told you,” he says, “We’re going for a walk.” And then he’s leading her across the small room into the tiny hallway separating their bedrooms, where he starts walking them up and down the same few feet of space. She can’t help it, she dissolves into a fit of giggles after the third turn.

“Nice weather we’re having today, don’t you think?” he says, and she holds his arm with both hands and leans into his side, the sensation of laughter unfamiliar in her chest.

“You’re crazy.”

“So I’ve been told. Many times. By you, actually.”

“In the best way. I like it.”

“Oh,” he says, sounding pleased, and a little surprised. “I haven’t heard that before.”

She stops them in their tracks and steps in front of him. “You know I mean it like that every time, right?” she says. “If I ever—”

“I know, Scully,” he promises, and the smile in his voice convinces her that he’s telling the truth.

“Good. Okay.”

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks. “I’ve been told the view doesn’t change at all the further you go. Might be worth exploring.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” The words slip out before she can stop them, and the happiness in her voice makes her blush. She didn’t mean to reveal that much.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I know the feeling.”

She lowers her eyes and doesn’t know what to say. It’s a new problem. They’ve always had an easy back and forth, even their arguments often comforting in a way she never properly understood. Suddenly, everything seems filled with too much meaning. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on her part. It’s just that she remembers the look in his eyes when he visited her in the hospital after she woke up.

“Hey, Scully?”

She nods, reluctantly lifting her head when he puts two fingers under her chin. “What is it?”

“I just want you to know…” He pauses for a second. “I just want you to know that I’d rather be in here, bored out of my mind with you, than healthy and having fun out there without you.”

“I, um.” She frantically searches for something to say, but he’s standing here, his fingers caressing her cheek now, and he is so warm and smells so good, and she simply can’t remember how language works for the moment.

“It’s okay,” he assures her. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”

“No,” she says quickly. “No, I understand. I… guess I feel the same way.”

“Oh.” There’s something so hopeful in his expression, and she gives him the tiniest nod, hoping he’ll understand.

And he does, of course he does.

She can’t remember any kiss ever feeling like this. His lips just rest against hers, lingering, unmoving, and she feels it all the way down to her toes. Her hands come up to cup his elbows and he takes her face firmly between his large, soft hands, and by the time he pulls back, the world has rearranged itself around them.

“Was that okay?” he asks, and she puts one palm over his rapidly beating heart.

“I think I just thought of a few things we can do while we’re stuck here,” she says.

“Yeah?” He slides his arms around her waist and pulls her closer. “Like what?”

She rises up onto her toes to kiss him again, and finds that another three weeks of this doesn’t sound quite so bad anymore.

[the-void-via]

TW: TALK OF GUNS, INJURES FROM GUNS, DEATH, ANDROID GORE IG?

Second part of my Rota Fortunea fic!

“The leader of the resistance, Sunday, was found dead fifteen system hours ago. Forensic experts have deduced the cause of death to be a gunshot wound to the head. However, upon finding the gun at the crime scene, only Sunday's fingerprints were found on it. Law enforcement is investigating the crime scene-”

Ratio shut the TV off with a grumble, glaring at his reflection in the dark screen. He set the remote down and turned to the nearby table, Aventurine’s sleeping body laying atop it.

He glanced at Ruan Mei and Herta. Oil stained their hands, working on hooking Aventurine up to a power source before they worked on fixing him. He—reluctantly—stayed a few feet back, after both women had practically ripped the android from his arms when he walked through the door.

Barely a word had been exchanged between the women and Ratio, putting all their attention and focus into Aventurine. He could do little but stand back, peering over their shoulders from time to time to try and check their progress.

Ruan Mei moved, allowing Ratio a clear view of Aventurine’s face-

He cringed. Some layers of machinery had been stripped away near his right eye, leaving a red LED light to stare back at him. His eyes drifted, the metal of his neck slight exposed–

He turned away. It was too much to bear. Seeing someone who used to be his friend– no. The man he loved in such a state killed him inside. He moved to sit down, sighing heavily.

“Don't move much,” Ruan Mei softly scolded, not even turning to look at him. “You sustained three gunshot wounds from Sunday. You don't want them to open.”

He grumbled a little bit, muttering something under his breath as a reply. Ruan Mei didn’t say anything else, fully focused on the android laying atop the table in front of her.

Herta was no different, the only indication of her presence being her soft mutterings to herself, working with Ruan Mei as if they had some telepathic connection they were communicating through.

It was unnerving, to say the least. The silence in the room.

Ratio sighed again and leaned against the chair, staring up at the ceiling. His body relaxed into the chair; the adrenaline had long worn off, slowly being replaced with exhaustion. He fought it as long as he could, fought to keep his eyes open- but his body knew he was safe.

His eyes started to slip closed, hoping for just a little cat nap…it sounded nice at this point…

…

Knock, knock, knock. …knock-knock!

His body jerked, sitting up straight in the chair. The two geniuses had made progress on Aventurine, he deduced they were just over halfway in connecting him to a power source- but that wasn't the priority at the moment.

Someone knocked on the door.

Herta had walked away from the table, leaving Ruan Mei to continue for a moment by herself. She turned to look at Ratio as she heard the chair jerk, her expression unreadable.

“You're awake.” She said bluntly.

“W- ahem- what was that?” He asked, rubbing his eyes. “That knock. Is it-”

“Thank you, Miss Herta,” A voice—definitely not Herta’s—came from the hallway she had disappeared down a moment ago. “I'm sorry to inconvenience you at a time like this. I had a run-in with a few androids above ground, and I just need a few tune-ups on my arm–”

A male figure, clad in a dusty dark pink cloak, walked into the room at Herta’s side. He pulled his hood back, his hair dyed pink with long, white roots. Deep crimson eyes scanned the room as he stopped dead in his tracks, blinking at the two new figures.

“Oh.” He mumbled in surprise. “There's other men here. That's…intriguing.”

“Never mind them,” Herta shooed him to another table, aiding him in sitting atop it. “You said you need me to fix your arm? Which one?”

The man shed his cloak, revealing himself to be wearing a tight black tank top, as well as black shorts with knives tucked inside harnesses. He carefully extended a mechanical arm, using his other hand to point to his elbow. “This one, the joints got busted up real bad. I was afraid it would fall off before I got here.”

Ratio’s eyes widened upon seeing him. His arms and legs were very visibly mechanical, white metal with elegant dark pink accents. His stomach almost sank upon the realization.

Another android?

“Wow, Shilou,” Herta mused, taking his arm into her hands and examining his joint. “This is really badly damaged. You really are lucky it didn't fall off on the way.”

“I know,” Shilou chuckled a little. “Thank you again, Miss Herta. Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you? Any materials you need? I can't keep letting you fix me without any sort of payment-”

“Excuse me,” Ratio’s voice cut him off, his arms folded across his chest in an almost standoffish manner. “Who are you?”

Tags: @havanillas @serendipminie @blak-ie @blackcat2907 @drowning-in-cabbages @lumin-arii @kyl13sm1l3y @darkluminosity @smellofsnoww (lmk if you wanna be tagged or not when I post about my oc's!)

[villainbait]

Midnight Warmth

Pairing: Toji x Reader | Toji x fem!reader Rating: NC-17 Tags: toji x reader, toji x you, toji x fem!reader, quick and dirty toji smut, pov: you’re toji’s wife, cockwarming, cuddling, kissing, intimacy, intimate sex, lovemaking, teasing, porn without plot, this is honestly just smut from start to finish, fushiguro toji has a big dick, soft fushiguro toji Word Count: 1500~

Description: Keys jangle loudly to announce his arrival, and he tosses them carelessly into a useless decorative bowl by the entryway. He starts to walk through the apartment but thinks better of it as the memory of what happened last time filters through his mind. The scarred corner of his mouth quirks upward as he sheds his soaking wet clothes at the entryway, instead of tracking water throughout the apartment. Once nude, he shivered as frigid air ghosted over his chilled skin. He remembered the heat pump was broken and not due for repair until tomorrow. Toji’s smirk blooms into a mischievous smirk when he remembers that he has a perfectly good warmer cozy in bed. He even proudly named you wife. 

“I promise I won’t move,” Toji wheedles, already sliding into bed and completely destroying any semblance of relaxation you were trying to have before he got home. Even from your side of the bed however, you could feel how cold he was. Just how long had he been out in this awful weather? The rain was loud against the windows of your shared bedroom and you distractedly worried about how well he took care of himself when he left you like this. 

“C’mon.” He nuzzles his face into your neck. “Warm me up, babe.”

With a face like that, how could you say no? Honestly, with a cock like that, it was–

His icy feet suddenly skate against the back of your calves, and it's enough to distract you so that he snatches you against him; holding you captive against his chilled body. Your squeak of outrage is drowned out by his chuckle and his hands roam over your body, effective as the ice cubes he liked to drop down the back of your shirt in the summer. Your nipples stiffened instantly, and you bite your lip to keep from asking him to warm them with his tongue. 

“Fineeeeee.” You groan and his hand eagerly tries to sneak between your legs, but you swat it away. Everywhere he had touched raised goose flesh along your sensitive, heated skin. 

You wiggle out of your bottoms, leaving them abandoned somewhere near the bottom of the bed. Your own hand slips quickly between your thighs and he groans, lamenting about how he can’t watch you get yourself ready to take his cock. He sulkily nuzzles your neck instead, nipping at the sensitive skin. The whimper gets caught in your throat as your fingers stretch yourself in preparation to take that monster laying hotly against your thigh. You loved Toji, but he was often too much for you to handle without proper foreplay. 

Toji gets impatient and pushes your hand away to replace it with his. The added cold sensation of his fingers joining yours to touch your aching clit is enough to make you soft, pliant, and ready. His fingers were so much bigger than yours that he has to work them to get them inside of your wet heat, but he makes you feel so full with just this much that you know with a little more work he could easily make you cum.

Instead, once you’re stretched to his satisfaction, he hooks one of your legs over his. He wedges a powerful thigh between yours, lining his cock up at your slick entrance. You knew you weren’t wet enough and so did he, but he wanted to be inside you so badly he couldn’t wait anymore. He was so cold and he desperately wanted to be warm. He wanted you to warm him in the way only you could. The only one he would allow to thaw his frigid heart. 

Toji slides his cock to the hilt inside of you, and your gasps mingle in the frigid air of the bedroom. The repairman swore he’d be here in the morning, but you didn’t mind if repairs were delayed if it meant Toji would tease you like this every night. His cock made you feel so full you swore you could feel it bulging obscenely against your abdomen, even though that couldn’t really be true. It made you squeeze around him, eliciting another groan from his lips as he clutched you more tightly against his chest.

Then, infuriatingly true to his word, Toji doesn’t move. 

“What are you doing?” You try to grind your hips against his, but he has you effectively pinned; halting your movements with his hands on your hips. “Why-” 

“Go back to your reading. I told you I wouldn’t move.” He doesn’t lift his head from where it was buried against your throat. You could feel his hot breath feather along your pulse and you miss the way he’d leave deep, bruising hickeys there to claim what was his. Instead, he was taking his time teasing you, pressing soft kisses along your jaw. His light stubble tickled your skin and you tried to turn your face away but he crowded more closely to continue his lazily persistent  affection.

“How am I–ngh–supposed to read when you keep doing that with your tongue?” You tried to sound accusatory, but the breathless way you moaned gave away how much you liked what he was doing. 

His deep chuckle made his cock pulse inside of you and you whimpered, attempting to move again. Toji also didn’t offer a solution to the problems he was causing and you were so close to begging, his name a plea on your lips. 

“Toji….” you whined and his lips playfully nipped your ear. “What?” You rocked your hips against his and he stilled them with a playful soft slap to your bare ass. “Stop that. I’m trying to be nice, y’know.” 

“Well stop it,” you pout. His scratchy chuckle rumbles against your throat and it makes you squirm even more, desperate for any kind of friction between your thighs. 

“Maybe I don’t want you to be nice.” 

Toji froze and then his fingers curled into the softness of your body hard enough to bruise. “Do you work tomorrow?” 

“No.”

“Good.” His smile curves against your shoulder. “It means you can read your book all night, right?” 

His answer was infuriating, but so was the subtle and rhythmic flexing of his hips to tease you. You almost hadn’t noticed it with how sly Toji was, but once you did, it was driving you insane. 

“Stop that,” you grumbled as you tried in vain to read your book and his kisses along your throat only made it harder for you to focus on anything at all. 

“Stop what?” He asked innocently and his hips stuttered into yours more obviously this time, chuckling into the crook of your neck. Toji’s breath fanned hotly against your throat as he fought to maintain control and not flip you onto your back and fuck you until you were screaming his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It didn’t help when you squirmed, your own hips rocking back against his. 

Finally you threw the book aside and grabbed him by the hair, jerking his lips to yours, finally too needy to deny what you wanted anymore. Your hips ground against his and he groaned into your mouth before he broke the kiss and flipped you on your stomach. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, princess.” He withdrew enough to pull you to your knees before slamming back into you with enough force it made the bed creak. Your groans collectively mingled in the air as Toji did what you asked and fucked you hard and fast, the tip of him kissing your cervix with every bruising roll of his hips into yours. 

The room felt warmer now as sweat rolled off your bodies and you found yourself reaching the fever pitch of pleasure, Toji’s name a soft, intimate litany on your lips. His quiet grunts and words of encouragement heatedly whispered into your ear only added to that pleasure, or maybe that was his deft fingers that delved between your thighs, his fingers frantically working your clit to send you careening over the edge until you screamed his name. 

Both of you lay panting in the aftermath, Toji’s cock still throbbing inside of you despite his release and he pressed you down into the soft mattress, trapping you. 

“You’re heavy,” you whined and he chuckled but didn’t roll off of you. Instead, he wedged an arm around your waist and tugged your ass more firmly against his hips; turning onto his side. He drew the covers back over the both of you to trap the heat your combined friction had caused, but Toji’s intentions were clear.  He nuzzled his face comfortably into your throat and absently caressed your stomach.

You realized he wasn’t going to let you go, but your protests fell on deaf ears. All you get for your efforts is a low, rumbling chuckle as he holds you fast against him. 

“Goodnight, wife.”  You didn’t sleep at all.

[kyouka-supremacy]

//

[earthlyangelbby]

More than cookies

Summary: Teaching your crush Eddie to bake cookies turns into something sweeter than anticipated. Could this be the start of something more?

Cw: Fluffy fluff flufferson just a little kissing

2.5k Words

Every week, you bring chocolate chip cookies to the group hangout—a tradition since you started tagging along with Robin about a year ago. Whether it’s a movie night, board games, D&D, or some seasonal get-together, the hangouts usually take place at Eddie’s apartment. Without roommates, his place is the perfect hosting spot.

From the very first evening, you felt welcomed. Meeting Eddie, Nancy, Steve, and Gareth was intimidating at first, but thanks to Robin, they already knew a lot about you. That left you free to mostly observe and get to know them. Eddie’s apartment, especially his cozy living room, quickly became a comfort. With a big couch, a loveseat, beanbag chairs, and plenty of pillows and blankets for movie nights, it was hard not to feel at ease.

You started noticing Eddie more after the first horror movie night. He sat next to you on the couch, and as the scares made you jump and squeal, he instinctively leaned in to check on you. “All good, sweetheart?” he asked softly.

You whispered back with a shy smile, “I’m having fun, just jumpy.”

He smiled and nodded, and from then on, he made a habit of chuckling at your reactions. When you’d jump particularly hard, he’d lean over with a playful grin and say, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” nudging your shoulder or giving your knee a reassuring squeeze.

Game nights brought more of Eddie’s playful side. He’d jokingly target you, tracking your moves in Monopoly and teasing you about your strategy. “Oh, come on, you love my strategy,” he’d say, nudging your game piece with his. Every casual brush of his arm against yours, every moment he leaned in close, sent your heart racing in ways you couldn’t ignore.

You started arriving early to hangouts, initially because of your type-A personality, but lately, it was just an excuse to get a few moments alone with Eddie. You’d always found him attractive—his big smile, warm brown eyes, and even the way he ate cookies made your heart flutter. To call it a crush would be an understatement.

The way he looked at you and his comments about your cookies had started to feel less polite and more teasing. Every week, Eddie would eat your cookies with a grin that melted you, and every week, he’d say something that left your cheeks burning:

• "If this is what you bring every week, I’m counting the days to the next hangout."

• "Keep this up, and I’ll have to make you my official cookie supplier."

• "I should start bringing my own container to take some home."

• "Sweetheart, I might have to marry you. I can’t live without these."

• "The way you make these cookies makes me curious about what else you’re great at."

Most of his comments were playful, but “what else you’re great at” stuck in your head. What did he mean by that? Whatever it was, you wanted to know. So, you gathered your nerves and invited him to your house—to bake, of course.

 

Eddie made time to come over and learn, which shouldn’t have been a big deal—but it made you nervous. He was about to see your home, a cozy little townhouse you’d inherited from your grandma. Everything was perfectly neat, mostly because you couldn’t bring yourself to change her charming, floral-inspired decor.

You took a deep breath as you prepped the kitchen, a mix of excitement and nerves coursing through you. It was just going to be the two of you, and as the clock ticked closer to his arrival, your mind replayed every flirty exchange. The way Eddie smiled at you, that boyish grin lighting up his face as he savored your cookies, always made your cheeks flush.

He had a way of making you feel like a giddy teenager, especially with all the little moments during hangouts—his teasing during games, the lingering looks during movies, and the way he always gravitated toward you when you arrived early. Eddie was curious about you in a way that felt genuine, asking about your week and slipping in subtle, almost shy questions about whether you were seeing anyone.

Then there were the casual touches: a light brush of his arm, a nudge during a game, or his hand grazing yours while passing something. Normally, those things would have made you uncomfortable, but when it was Eddie, they left your skin buzzing and your stomach full of butterflies.

Eddie was in his van, fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel as soft music played in the background. His mind raced as he stared at the road ahead. Okay, Munson, don’t screw this up. She’s a friend—a really good friend. Everyone likes her. Robin says she’s into you. And yeah, she laughs at all your dumb jokes, but… what if this is just about cookies?

He sighed, gripping the wheel tighter. God, she’s so much more than that. Sweet and funny, always bringing those cookies every week. And the way she looks when she smiles… like she doesn’t even know how beautiful she is. How does someone as good as her actually exist? She’s smart, kind, and somehow looks as good as she is. That’s rare. Like lightning-strike rare.

His heart thudded a little harder in his chest at the thought of her. And that laugh... it’s like the best sound in the world. She always laughs when I flirt with her. That’s a good sign, right? Robin said it was. Robin wouldn’t lie about that. Would she?

Eddie’s van pulled into the driveway, and he stared at the little house in front of him. It was sweet and inviting, with blue trim and curtains that reminded him of something out of a storybook. Of course, her house would look like this. Cute, warm, and perfect—just like her.

He flipped down the visor and glanced at himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, Munson. Be cool. Be cool. Don’t say anything stupid. Just... bake some cookies and don’t blow it.”

Grabbing the milk and the bowl he’d brought along, Eddie stepped out of the van, straightened his jacket, and made his way to the front door. As he walked up the little path, he couldn’t help but smile. Cookies or not, I’m about to spend the afternoon with the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. That’s enough.

He reached the door, took a deep breath, and knocked, feeling his heart pound in anticipation.

Finally, you heard a knock at the door. You smoothed down your apron, fixed your hair, took a moment to compose yourself, and swung the door open with a bright smile. There he was, looking even cuter than usual, holding a bowl in one hand and a half gallon of milk in the other.

“Ready to make me a cookie making master?” he said, his eyes sparkling.

You laughed nervously, “Cookie master? More like a cookie apprentice!”

He stepped inside and looked around. “Wow, this place is.. cute lots more flowers than I imagined.”

“How often are you imagining my house?” you teased, motioning for him to take a seat at the counter. 

“Just on the whole drive over here,” Eddie laughed.

You pulled out the recipe, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than the butterflies in your stomach. “Alright, let’s get started. First, you’ll want to cream the butter and sugars together.”

As you began to demonstrate, you caught him watching you intently. Both his smile and the way he leaned closer made it hard to concentrate. “See? Just like this,” you said, your cheeks warming as he leaned in even more.

“Can I try?” he asked, and you nodded, passing him the wooden spoon. He took over mixing, but not without stealing glances at you. You tried to make your hands look busy, but gave up and stood with your hands behind your back.

“So, what else do you like to make when you’re not saving my sweet tooth?” Eddie asked, looking over at you with genuine curiosity.

“I, um… I enjoy trying new recipes. It’s sort of my thing.” You tried to sound cool, but the way he was looking at you made it hard to think straight.

“Yeah?” He paused, looking serious for a moment. “What do you do when you’re not busy being an amazing cookie supplier?”

“Mostly school,” you replied softly, heart pounding. “And daydream about cute guys who eat my cookies.”

His eyebrows raised slightly, and for a moment, you panicked, realizing what you had just let slip. But a playful smirk appeared on his lips. “Oh really? I’d love to hear more about this ‘cute guy’ you’re daydreaming about.”

You could practically feel the blush creeping up your neck. “Well, he’s sweet, funny, and loves cookies just as much as I do.”

“Lucky guy,” he said, his voice dropping a bit, making your heart race. “I bet he treats you well, huh?”

Before you could respond, you set out the chocolate chips. “Okay, now for the fun part! Let’s add these in.” 

He watched as you poured the chocolate chips into the bowl and then placed a few pieces right next to you on the counter. “I think you need to taste test those,” he said with a wink.

You picked one up and popped it into your mouth, then offered another to him with a grin. “Here, you try! They are the secret to making the cookies perfect.” 

He hesitated for a moment and then took the piece from your fingers, his gaze lingering on yours as he chewed. “Mm so sweet, just like you,” he said.

Your heart skipped a beat, and the kitchen suddenly felt a little smaller. You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the moment hang between you like a sweet, unspoken confession. “Okay, let’s get back to business!” you said quickly, trying to sidestep the heat in your cheeks.

As you prepared to mix the flour and baking soda, you grinned and said, “But wait, there’s a secret ingredient that takes these cookies to the next level!” You reached for a dark chocolate bar and began chopping it into small pieces.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “What’s this? More chocolate?”

You nodded, excitement bubbling up. “Yep! Chopped dark chocolate adds a rich depth and makes them extra special. Just wait until you taste them!”

“Nice! I’m all in for extra chocolate,” he said, looking at you with that charming smile again. The way he leaned over the counter to watch you closely made your heart race even more.

As you folded the chopped chocolate into the batter, Eddie's eyes never left you, and the air felt thick as you both worked side by side. You stirred the mixture, stealing glances at him as he concentrated on the process, a slight frown of focus on his lips that made him even more endearing. 

You handed Eddie a spoon and set the baking sheet in front of him. "Alright, cookie apprentice, now we scoop," you said with a grin.

He raised an eyebrow. “This is the big moment, huh? All my training has led to this.”

“Exactly,” you teased. “No pressure, but these scoops determine the success of the entire batch.”

Eddie scooped a dollop of dough onto the sheet and tilted his head. “How’s that for a first try?”

You leaned closer to inspect it, your shoulder brushing his. “Hmm, a little uneven, but not bad. Let me show you the pro technique.”

Grabbing your own spoon, you showed the perfect scoop. “See? Smooth edges, uniform size. It’s an art, really.”

He smirked, nudging your shoulder lightly. “So you’re saying I should leave the scooping to you?”

“Not at all!” you shot back, laughing. “You just need practice. Go ahead—try again.”

As he worked on his second scoop, Eddie suddenly dipped his spoon back into the dough and held it out toward you. “Taste test?”

You rolled your eyes but leaned in, taking a small bite off the spoon. “Okay, fine. It’s perfect,” you admitted, licking a bit of dough off your lip.

Eddie’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, a playful glint in his eye. “Told you I’d make a great apprentice,” he said, his voice soft but teasing.

Soon, the baking sheet was full, and you slid it into the preheated oven. “Alright, 12 minutes until cookie perfection,” you announced, brushing your hands together.

Eddie leaned back against the counter, watching you with that familiar lazy grin. “So what do we do while we wait? Dance? Play 20 Questions? Or just stare at each other awkwardly?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m voting for not staring awkwardly. How about we clean up a bit?”

As the two of you moved around the kitchen, wiping down counters and washing bowls, the energy between you shifted. The usual teasing felt softer, more intentional. Every brush of his hand against yours, every glance he stole—it all felt charged.

Finally, as you were drying your hands, Eddie stepped closer, his expression unusually serious. “You know,” he began, his voice low, “I’ve been waiting for this.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. “For what? Cookies?” you teased nervously.

He shook his head, his lips twitching into a small smile. “No, not cookies. This. Just... being alone with you. I’ve been waiting forever to spend real time with a really pretty girl like you.”

Your breath caught at his words, your cheeks heating. “You really mean that?”

“Yeah,” he said softly, his gaze steady. “I don’t think I’ve made it a secret how much I like you. But this—being here, just us—is different. Better.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, and before you could overthink it, you said, “I’m glad you’re here, Eddie. I’ve been wanting this too.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then Eddie leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I... can I kiss you?”

Your heart raced, but you nodded, a shy smile spreading across your face. “Yes.”

Eddie's eyes dart from your lips to your eyes then back to your lips and he leans in, his lips brushing yours softly at first, leaving three short burst kisses on your lips. As if he was making sure this was real. He looked at you almost as if he wanted reassurance. You smiled up at him and leaned in. As your lips meld together again, you feel the soft brush of his tongue seeking entry, gently dancing against yours. The sweetness of the chocolate bursts forth as you taste it, mingling with the warmth of his breath. His tongue explores with a mix of urgency and tenderness, igniting a thrilling sensation that sends jolts of electricity through you. The way he tugs you closer only heightens the moment, making each flick and caress feel uniquely intimate. 

The comforting scent of his leather jacket envelops you, grounding you in the heat of the moment. As your tongues intertwine, it creates a beautiful rhythm, an unspoken connection that deepens with every kiss, leaving you breathless and craving more.

Just then, the oven timer dinged, breaking the moment. You both laughed, the sound cutting through the tension like a breath of fresh air.

“Perfect timing,” Eddie said, stepping back but keeping his hand on your waist.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were grinning like teenagers. “You’re really good at that,” you murmured, unable to stop smiling.

Eddie chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “So are you, sweetheart.” You placed your oven mitts on. “Let’s see if these cookies live up to the kiss.” Eddie looked at the tray with a big smile.

“They’d better,” you teased, opening the oven and pulling out the tray. The cookies were golden brown, the chocolate chips melted just enough to glisten.

Eddie grabbed a spatula and carefully transferred a cookie to a plate. “Taste test round two?” he asked, breaking off a piece and holding it out to you.

You took a bite, savoring the gooey chocolate and buttery dough. “Okay, these are pretty amazing,” you admitted.

Eddie took a bite of his own, nodding in agreement. “Not bad for an apprentice, huh?”

“Not bad at all, cookie master,” your smile soft as you met his gaze.

Eddie leaned on the counter. "You know, I’m not even mad if I never get a cookie again, as long as I get to keep kissing you.” 

Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you thought! :^)