#nothing makes me feel older than tumblr

[some-teeth-in-a-trench-coat]

This is straight up a horror story to me what the f*ck is this real??

Telling young zoomers to "just switch to linux" is nuts some of these ipad kids have never even heard of a cmd.exe or BIOS you're throwing them to the wolves

[orchidyoonkook]

PG | KTH

Title: PG 

Pairing: Older Brother's Best Friend!Kim Taehyung x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Touches of Fluff

Summary: You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.

Warnings: nicknames! a disgusting amount, language, assholes being assholes but being put in their place, brotherly love, sibling antics, tae is a swimmer and knows judo, also a Dan is--for the lack of better phrasing--a high belt level in judo. think of it like a black belt, OC cant keep it in her pants and neither can tae, mutual pining, lots of great gatsby references because I'm tyring to be that bitch (I am joking), tae has tats, OC's brother is an overprotective idiot but we love him anyway, slight physical abuse not by tae or reader or fourteen--basically someone grips an arm too harshly, some panic but no panic attack,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 11,521

Release Date: September 15, 2024. 12:00PM

A/N 1: The biggest most huge thank you to @violetsiren90 for being my sounding board, tech support and beta. She's a real one and y'all are sleeping on her work if you haven't alread read it. Go check her out!

A/N 2: My access to the adobe suite was aha....revoked. So! this is my first time making a banner and divider without photoshop. Therfore, the banner and the divider are a bit different than what I'm used to having XD. Tumblr is also absolutely destroying the qualty which is sooooo great. It looks wonky and blurry to me on desktop but fine on mobile so it is what it is. If i ever get adobe access again I'll probably come back and update the graphics.

Explicit Warnings: *ahem* nicknames, teasing, kissing, biting, marking (several ways), hand and finger kink (duh), voice kinklet (duhhhh), hair 'pulling' (m rec), semi public if you squint, hella foreplay, tae has a big dick, penetrative sex, oral (m+f rec), fingering, handjob?, multiple orgasms, body worship, switch like activities but mostly dominant tae, posessiveness, confessions, reader takes what she wants but so does tae, exhibitionism if you squint, slight cum play/eating, implied squirting, choking, cream pie. Pretty sure thats all of them. i never reailse how many i need to put until the list is done and wow *chuckes while blushing*

“Oi, can you fucking not? My sister’s right fucking there,” your older brother, Fourteen—nicknamed for his forever mental age—ridiculously and unneededly overprotective as always, says.

It is especially unneeded and ridiculous as he’s saying it to Tae, when all he’s doing is taking off his shirt to go for a swim in your pool. Like he’s been doing since you were tweens.

Well.

Since you were a tween and they were nearing the legal drinking age. But that’s besides the point. 

Best friend to your knuckle head of an older brother, you honest to god have no idea how they became friends. 

Taehyung is poetry and jazz and button up cotton shirts. Old book smell and expensive cologne, ringed fingers and whiskey, neat. The kind of vibe someone would get from being raised by a very successful lawyer for a father and a top ranking university professor of literature for a mother, while Fourteen is… your older brother. 

Maybe it’s a younger sister thing to not understand how her older brother has any friends. Considering you grew up with him, know all of his weird and gross habits, have a lovely dash of sibling bullying thrown in that you two share equally, and more. Yet, by some miracle, he and Tae manage to balance one another out. 

Tae—fucking somehow—makes your brother into a more presentable human being. He showers more than twice a week and wears deodorant every day now—even puts the seat down after peeing, a habit you’ve been screaming at him to stop doing since you could use the toilet. While Fourteen gives Tae a rougher edge he previously never seemed to be able to grasp, despite trying his best too. 

For example, the several delicate tattoos he now has all over his body, your favourite of which is an old timey record player on the inside of his forearm. They were something he’d been wanting to do for years, but only finally bit the bullet on and did once Fourteen took him when they were twenty two. 

Since then the collection’s only grown, much to your inner glee and mental dismay. 

And don’t even get you started on the delicate, thin rimmed glasses he occasionally wears—golden and the perfect shape for his face—or the ear piercings that just really fucking cement the tortured poet look that makes your heart clench every. single. time. you look at him. 

Similarly to what it’s doing right now, though no one ever knows due to your truly oscar worthy talent for acting completely oblivious to the beautiful shirtless man about to dive in. Call it over a decades worth of practice, and the fact that it’s also nothing you hadn’t gloriously taken in all teenagehood long. 

Every time you could get it. 

Which was a lot because Tae was on the high school swim team. 

For four years. 

And then the university swim team.

For another four. 

Teenage you was a lucky bitch. Now you’re only blessed with this sight when he comes over to swim laps or attempt to drown Fourteen. Which, admittedly, was still often. But not nearly as much as back then. 

The sight in question however, is curled black hair that frames eyes so warm you swear the sun’s relocated to his irises, and a jawline that makes the Statue of David’s pathetic in comparison. It’s fingers that make your mouth water from the way they flip book pages and thighs that make you think thoughts and things you never thought you would. 

It’s the scribbled text: ‘To err is human; to forgive, divine’ tattooed across his ribs, and a lean torso, muscled but not outrageously so. Just enough to have you forcing yourself not to stare at the delicate lines of his abdomen every time he comes over for a swim. 

Thank god for sunglasses. 

“Nah, I’m sure PG can handle it, Dumbass. I’ve only been using your pool every summer for the last 15 years give or take,” Tae says with a quirked brow and a half smile directed at you. 

Behind your sunnies, you heat up a touch, and internally sigh. Have you mentioned his smile yet? 

Because oh yeah, his fucking smile. 

Tae’s a nickname kind of person, hence why even you call your brother ‘Fourteen’. Taehyung’s called him Fourteen for so long now that calling your brother by his birth name just feels wrong. 

This being said, PG is Tae’s nickname for you. 

It stands for the TV rating ‘Parental Guidance’ because you’re younger by enough that when you were still under the age of 18, they—see: your brother and Tae because they’ve been joined at the hip since they met—were usually assigned babysitting duty. Very much the ‘take your sister with you’ sibling, but they never complained. Not once.

As much as you and Fourteen bully one another, you’re actually quite close when you aren’t verbally sparring—which is where his annoying overprotectiveness comes in. Even when it comes to Taehyung. 

“Yeah, Dumbass,” you copy, earning a smirk from Tae as he leans down to take his shoes off. “It’s just Tae.”

“It’s not about that YN, it’s about respect. You’re my little sister, and Fuckass over here,” you brother jabs a thumb in Tae’s direction, which earns you a second hidden smirk from the Fuckass in question, “Still doesn’t know how to respect that fact even after a decade and a half apparently.”

You shrug as Fourteen finishes his point and narrows his eyes at his best friend. Tae gives him a shit eating grin that screams ‘what are you going to do about it’ and your brother gives him a two fingered salute before shaking his head and taking off his own shirt. 

You take that as your cue to put your head back down because you don’t need to see that. 

Currently in very comfortable linen shorts and tank, you’re sitting on a padded pool lounger, rereading The Great Gatsby for the hundredth time. It’s one of the classics that never gets old for you, has the benefit of being a shorter read—therefore perfect for the poolside—and happens to be the copy Tae’d gotten you for Christmas a couple years ago. Pure coincidence, you tell yourself. Nothing more. 

With the beautiful addition of your very darkly glassed sunnies, it also makes the perfect decoy as you watch Tae over the top of the open book without risk of being caught. 

You firmly follow the rule of a little looking can’t hurt. 

You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up—see: current shirt stripping debacle. It’s not the first nor the last time he’ll do something like it, and you’re pretty sure you and Tae have an unspoken agreement at this point to push as many of Fourteen’s buttons as you can together, just to see how far he’ll let it go before freaking out.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually. 

Despite the flames that rage and roar on in your heart. 

Despite the green light on the dock across the way tackling your brother under the water. 

You hold on. And only in these little moments of in between do you allow yourself to look. Pockets of time where a peek won’t be seen or recorded, and a moment of self indulgence keeps your sanity from trying to escape its tightly locked box.

You look and look and look until the green light is covered in fog once more, and the lid of the box seals tight.  

Another day, another glorious abuse of best friend privileges, Taehyung thinks to himself as he continues his butterfly down the imaginary lanes in Fourteen’s pool. 

He tries to come over at least three times a week. Four or five if he’s able, the more he’s over the higher chance he has to see you, not just Fourteen. But he’s rarely able to these days. 

Though the wind appears to have shifted in his favour today. You’re sitting on the lounge chairs again, reading away in the afternoon sun. 

It’s his favourite view. And it’s sweetened by the fact that you’re in the shorts he loves and reading a book he gave you. Something he’s done since before he could remember, really. 

Christmases and birthdays, he’s always given you a book. Usually a classic, sometimes something else. If it caught his eye or reminded him of you, he’d grab it and save it until the next Christmas or the next birthday, whichever came first. And you’ve always loved them, so he’s never stopped. 

They’re gifts that seem harmless to Fourteen, and for the most part they are. But these last few have been…different. Had deeper thought put into them. The titles, the story lines, the prose. He swears you notice it, but maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking. 

And he sure as fuck can’t be doing any of that. 

This cold water isn’t doing its job well enough.

Finishing his set, Tae swims over to rest before starting on his front stroke. Forearms hold him up on the edge of the pool, his chin balancing on stacked knuckles while his breath catches. 

He also uses this little break as an excuse to talk to you. He only ever freely can when Fourteen isn’t around, and right now his best friend is inside grabbing drinks, towels and probably relieving himself–which, knowing Fourteen—could take anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes. So he has to take advantage of every moment he gets. 

“Got any new recommendations for me PG?” 

Books are an easy starting point when it comes to you. Fourteen may be a graphic novel at best kind of guy, but your brain can’t seem to inhale enough books to satiate it. And just the thought makes his temples rush with heat. 

He should dunk his head again.

You lower your Fitzgerald by one inch and raise an eyebrow to counter it. Just like your brother, you’re always one to give him a hard time. Make him work for every millimeter of ground conquered. And he’s pretty sure you have a smirk hiding behind the pages, though he can’t be certain due to the sunglasses hiding your eyes. 

“Maybe,” you say. “What do I get in return?” 

Answering that question about fifty different ways in his head, Tae decides none can be said out loud. He seriously needs to fucking reel himself in. Fourteen could return at any moment and the last thing Tae needs to have is a problem between his legs because you never make it easy for him. 

But rather than listening to his very rational thoughts and very logical brain, he instead decides to say fuck it, and croons in the voice that used to fluster you as a teenager. 

“What do you want in return, PG?” Hoping to soften you up, even the playing field a bit. 

And it works like a charm. 

Your body releases its tension on an exhale, your page is marked, book set to the side, and your legs extend and stretch before crossing at the ankle. It makes him wonder if your little girlhood crush on him still exists somewhere in the back of your mind. Probably not.

Scratch that. 

Definitely not.  

“What if I wanted a new nickname?” you ask.

Both his eyebrows raise in surprise. “What’s wrong with PG?”

“It makes me feel like I’m eleven,” you explain. And then hit him with a dose of his own medicine as you croon, “I’m not eleven anymore, Tae.”

No you sure as hell are not. And it kills him in a way that has him wanting to die over and over again. 

He could consider it. But he doesn’t think he’ll change it, not when PG can stand for so many wonderful things. Things you would never think he’d let it when addressing you. Things that would have Fourteen trying for drowning attempt number two thousand four hundred sixty three, and succeeding. 

“I’ll think about it—Fair?”

You ponder before agreeing. “Fair.”

“Now about those recommendations…” He reminds you, and that’s all it takes to get you going.

Fourteen comes out about ten minutes later, but by then, Tae has a new list of books to grab from the store, two laps under him with eight more to go, and you’re reading again—one bare leg bent at the knee he’s trying very hard to ignore when he comes up for air. 

By the time he’s due for another breather, you’re talking to your brother about plans for the weekend. 

“I’m going out early on Friday for Rei’s birthday, remember? And I’ll probably crash at her place after,” you say. 

Fourteen is sitting on the second lounge chair across from you, most likely playing a game on his phone if Tae had to guess. But at your reminder, your brother looks up.

“Fuck that’s right. Okay so no dinner then, I’ll just grab something on my way in.”

“Sounds good. What about tonight?”

Fourteen gives it about two seconds of thought. “How about Don’s?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion. “Fuck yes! I’ve been craving their milkshakes for like a week. Hey Tae!” you call to him. “Don’s for dinner? There’s a chocolate shake with your name on it if you’re down.”

Tae pushes himself out of the water onto the pavement and doesn’t miss the sly once over you give him while Fourteen chucks a towel at his chest, covering your eyes with his other hand. 

He catches the projectile before it can knock him back into the pool, and uses it to dry his hair.

“Dude! Seriously? Go find a fucking shirt or something, no one wants to see that.”

You swat your sibling’s hand away and give him a look that screams ‘grow up’ while Tae drapes the towel over her shoulders, a hand gripping at each end. 

“I’m only down if Dumbass is paying,” he says, smirking at your brother. 

“—What—”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree, holding out your hand in his direction. 

“—Hey wait a seco—”

Tae grabs and shakes just to watch the steam flee Fourteen’s ears at the contact. He meets your eyes conspiratorially, and you both nod before rushing Fourteen. 

“—You fuckers!—” is all he gets out before Tae and you are grabbing an arm and a leg each and throwing Fourteen’s fully clothed ass in the pool. 

He curses the both of you out several times as he treads, drenched and dripping, up the stairs and out of the water. Tae throws him the towel. 

“You’ll pay for that, Asshole,” Fourteen tells Tae, and Tae grins. 

“Oh, I’m counting on it. Worth it though.”

“And you!” Fourteen says, eyes on you. “What the fuck dude? The betrayal to your darling, one and only brother hurts. I’m wounded,” he lays it on thick, walking up directly beside you. 

You're a hairsbreadth too late to realize when he shakes his hair out directly over top of you and you shriek, pulling your knees up, protecting the book under your shirt and behind your legs at all costs.

“Fourteen! The book! I will kill you if you damage it!”

Fourteen chuckles. “Payback’s a bitch Little Sister.”

You sneer at him, checking your prized possession for injury. Not a scratch. 

“And sopping wet is your colour, Jackass.”

“Big words for someone who can just as easily be thrown in the pool.”

You pause. Eyeing him directly. 

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

Your brother looks at Tae with an evil plot in his eyes and you screech as they both nod once. You drop your book behind you as they yank you up by your arms and fling you into the pool, too much momentum from them and not enough resistance from you leaving you matching your darling, one and only brother.

As you come up for air, two colossal splashes ricochet from the left and right. Tae and Fourteen having both cannonballed in on either side of you. You choke on splattered water for a second before you’re attacking them with splashes, merciless in your pursuit for revenge. 

“You both suck!” you half giggle half yell. 

“Yet you love us anyway!” your brother falsely—correctly—claims. 

You roll your eyes before trudging out, heavier and dripping with your soaked clothes.

And it's not until weekend plans are cast aside for current memories, Taehyung treating you all to dinner, and you treating everyone to milkshakes, that all is forgiven. 

It turns out Rei’s dad knows the manager of the most exclusive club in the city—Youth—and managed to call in a favour. So now you, her, and your other bestie, Lea, are all on the dancefloor to celebrate her birthday. 

Rei’s first request for the night besides not paying for a single drink, was to dress up in the hottest, sluttiest outfits the club's dress code would allow for. 

This, for you, meant a black, square necked, low cut, and thin strapped satin slip dress that hugged you in all the right ways, matching heels adored with ankle strap bows and a sultry makeup look. Lea chose a dark blue shimmery number with a high leg split, vibrant graphic eyeliner, and wedges, while the birthday girl found the skimpiest forest green mini dress you’ve ever seen paired with heels that wrap ribbons up her legs, and a subtle dewy look on her lids. 

She’s glowing, and needless to say, they both look hot and so do you. 

Rei’s second request for the night was to dance until you either collapsed or threw up, whichever came first. A goal you were all making a steady descent towards as the night progressed. 

That is, until your blood runs cold at the sight of your cheating ex boyfriend making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline towards you. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You’re alone right now. Rei and Lea are taking a bathroom break. 

You insisted you’d be fine for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes. What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?

But apparently god just loves to play jokes because here you are, three shots in, not emotionally prepared enough to be near him, let alone speak to him, and by yourself in this huge crowd of strangers while he’s making very good time on his route to you. 

Fuck! You do not want to deal with him right now or—fucking ever, actually. 

He’d cheated on you four times that he admitted too throughout your two and a half year relationship, all while faking being blindingly happy directly to your face. He’d lied to you and hurt you and made you wonder what you did wrong for him to do that to you. It took all of your third year of university and more therapy sessions than you care to admit to realize you were never the problem, and that he was a piece of shit. 

So, with the fifteen feet between you two quickly shrinking, you try your best to hide from him in the crowd, only to run directly into him when you duck past a fellow club goer. 

Son of a b—

“Heyyy Y/N, how’ve you been?” he says like he didn’t destroy your entire sense of self worth for a couple quick fucks. 

You want to down three more shots just to be able to puke all over him. Intentionally, you haven’t seen him in years and just the reek of his stale ass cologne has you close. 

“Fuck off Micah, don’t you have somewhere you need to be sticking your dick—like a garbage disposal?” You snark, doing your damndest to not let him get close. But the throng of bodies surrounding you have other ideas and you’re thrown against your least favourite person in existence.

Delusional as ever, Micah sleezes, “Doesn’t seem like you want me to leave just yet, Kitten,” and you shove him off you as hard as you can while bile rises at the horrible name you used to beg him not to call you. 

You need to get off the dance floor.

Now.

Before you can, Micah grabs your arm and he pulls you back into him, hard.

Tae watches you out of the corner of his eye, wondering why in the hell you came to this club, of all the clubs out there. 

The club he was at. Wearing that and truly testing the limits of his self control.

Music blasts through speakers that move the ocean on the dancefloor. Bodies sway like waves, some crashing into one another with teeth and tongues and passion, others pushing with the current, grinding and gripping and grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. The louder and faster the notes whirl over their swells, the harsher the storm rages on, people flowing in and out of the eye when needed. 

He’s sitting at a booth on a dais high enough to watch you in the hurricane whilst being out of eyesight, notably with one or two faces he barely recognizes enough to most likely be your friends. 

They appear to be currents. They drag you into deeper waters and you let them, helpless to their siren call. Leading you to your place amongst the sea life, and reveling in the way the melodies wash over you again and again with every song that plays. 

His eyes follow you as you dance, curious if Fourteen knows you’re here before flinging the thought out of his head as quickly as it entered. You’re grown now, don’t need protection anymore. A lesson he learned the day you returned from university after graduating. 

No longer his best friend's kid sister who they kept an eye on, but a woman who was and still is growing into herself beautifully. A woman who is steadfast, strong and more often than not, correct in her opinions. A woman who is well read and equally if not more so well spoken when she deigns to acknowledge his existence. A woman who knows how and when to turn all of that off in order to team up with him in a roast battle for the books against her brother. 

He thinks of that day as the beginning of his downfall. 

He can humbly admit that his intelligence, demeanor and education are things that have been nurtured into existence by his parents and carefully maintained by himself with practice and both mental and physical exercise. He takes care of himself, inside and out. Exercises regularly, eats well, has good hygiene. He’s level headed and patient. Respectful and responsible. Controlled and competent. 

He prides himself on these things. Actively works towards keeping them maintained. 

And yet. 

Somehow when it comes to you, he is little more than a single brain celled idiot. 

All of the things he uses to measure his self worth evaporate whenever you enter his field of vision and he becomes fucking ravenous. And all of his focus goes into controlling himself.

He’d never noticed before, never thought of you in the way he does now. How when your currents break from formation and head towards the bathrooms, their outgoing force creates a riptide that some fuckhead with a stupid haircut uses to sweep in and dance with you. 

But you push him away. 

He doesn’t get the memo, and the mophead tries his best to yank you out to sea again.

Magma flows through Taehyung's veins, thunder cracks in his ears and all he can think about is storming through the crowd to steal you from said fuckhead by claiming you for himself.

But he won’t. 

Can’t.

All because of his darling best friend. 

Fourteen doesn’t know about his feelings for you of course. And Tae rather likes being alive and in one piece, two things he most definitely would not remain should he act on any of these feelings.

You are wholly off limits, forbidden. A little too young, a little too immediately related to his best friend, a little too perfectly his fucking type. It kills him every time he can’t even look at you without Fourteen going into what he calls ‘asshole mode’. 

So you remain in his very close periphery. Untouchable to the fingertips he aches to caress you with as you dangle your existence in front of him. Your wicked tongue, your delicious intelligence, your sexy fucking legs—fuck!

He has to stop thinking about you like this.

But that only makes him want you more. 

It’s like the gods handcrafted you for him. Every piece, every detail of you immaculate, but he committed one to many sins in his past life, and now they’ve locked you away forever as punishment. 

You float across the night sky, stuck in a golden cell. Its fourteen bars hold you hostage amongst the stars, all while he’s chained to the bottom of the ocean floor gasping for air. 

But fuck the gods and fuck their gilded cages. 

He’d break from his chains, swim to the surface of the sea and grow wings. Would break your prison apart with the sheer force of his wanting, then drag you down to the depths if it meant he got to keep you for himself. 

He would. He really, really fucking would. If his world wouldn’t implode completely if he did. 

So he keeps these thoughts to himself. Forces them down as they try their damndest to bubble over and burn him, because they will if he lets them. If any of them get outside these little moments, the ones where he allows himself to feel, he would burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left. 

Therefore, Taehyung has never been more grateful that his best friend was stuck on the night shift while he watched you dance and enjoy yourself, because it granted him this sliver of time to pretend like your brother doesn’t exist. 

That you are something he could let himself have, if you wanted him to.

And he’s solid in his decision to only observe, to stay inside his little moment, until fuckhead doesn’t get the message for the third time and Taehyung is out of his seat before he can think. 

Because Fourteen isn't here. 

And old habits die hard. 

“What the hell? Let me go, Micah!” You see his eyes then, red rimmed and glazed. He definitely has more than one thing in his system as his grip on you hardens further. The more you struggle, the tighter he grasps and—ouch, ouch, ouch, yank, fuck! Ow!—it’s really starting to hurt. 

“Just give me one more chance Kitten, I promise I’ll do better,” he whisper in your ear over the music, and you cringe back from how loud he is. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I fucked up, I know I did. But that was years ago, and I learned my lesson. Just one more chance Kitten, just one more, and I—I promise. I promise it won’t happen again. It won’t. I really miss y–AH! What the fuck!?”

The hand on your arm releases the second Micah yelps in pain. You look down to see familiar ringed fingers around Micah’s wrist, clutching so hard they’re white knuckled and skin bruising. 

A broad chest comes to rest at your back, and an arm snakes around you. Its large palm rests on your stomach and hip as it pulls you tightly against its owner. 

Words covered in sharpest ice are spoken from behind you, their baritone so recognizable they have you melting back into him. 

Safe. 

You’re safe. 

Exhale.

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Taehyung growls so deeply, so powerfully, you feel the rumble from behind his sternum reverberate into your body. 

Micah’s focus shifts from his wrist to the man several inches taller and several years his senior still holding it. You watch as his face contorts from pained to confused and then to murderous. 

“The fuck are you to tell me not to touch my girlfriend?” Micah seethes, and you stiffen because no the fuck you are not, and haven’t been for several years. 

How blitzed out of his mind is he right now?

You don’t even get the chance to deny his words before Taehyung’s on Micah like fire to dried grass.

“Don’t make me laugh, Asshole. No way in hell an pig faced looking fucker like you could pull a woman like her. Now,” Tae roughly shoves Micah’s hand back to him, and it forces Micah to stumble into the people behind with the force. “Get the fuck away from My Girl before I make you My Problem. And trust me,” Tae says in a tone so dangerous, you’ve never heard him sound so terrifying in the fifteen plus years you’ve known him, “You don’t want me to make you my problem.”

And you realize, that this isn’t the Taehyung you’ve grown up with; seen through his awkward teen years and watched come into his adult life with. This isn’t jazz music and poetry Taehyung. 

This Taehyung has only ever come out the handful of times you’ve ever been in trouble. The one who studied Judo with Fourteen growing up, the one who has his fourth Dan. 

The one who does not play when it comes to you and your safety. 

It’s enough to know that Taehyung is more than pissed off, and more than a little ready to beat the absolute shit out of Micah, if the whiskey on his breath says anything about his loosened inhibitions. 

Micah seems to sense this too, and decides to back off. But not without a stupid macho expression and two middle fingers directed at both of you as he disappears into the crowd, and out of sight. 

You can feel the tension radiating off Taehyung in waves, a coil so tightly wound that a gentle breeze could set him loose, so you turn around and attempt to safely unwind. His hand moves from your stomach to your lower back, and you ignore the trail of wildfire it leaves in its wake because Tae’s eyes haven’t wavered from the spot where Micah just stood. 

“Don’t.” You say, loud enough for him to hear. And his flame filled irises snap to yours, burning. “He’s not worth it.”

Your words seem to bring him back somewhat because Tae sniggers. “Damn right he’s not,” then softens. “Are you okay?”

You look anywhere but at him, the reality of the last three minutes crashing down onto your head like broken glass while the both of you are still caught in the middle of the dancefloor. 

The people around you seem to understand something’s happened, and you’re left mostly untouched aside from the gentle nudges of inebriated party goers whose balance isn’t the best at the moment. 

Like the mellowed waves in the eye of a storm.

Taehyung seems to make sense of this at the same time you do, and lifts his free hand for you to take. Slipping your fingers into his, he leads you to an unused and out of the way emergency exit hallway somewhere in the back of the club. It’s completely empty and dark, undisturbed besides the occasional server passing by. 

It’s private. 

It’s safe. 

You’re safe.

You’re safe.

He lets go of your hand and looks at you again. “Now, are you okay?” 

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you can feel yourself start to shake. You ignore it. Sort of.

“I’m okay,” you say. But he’s eyeing you suspiciously and rightly so, so you repeat yourself, trying to convince your own brain more than his right now. 

“I’m okay, really! I’m good. I’m–” you exhale a shaky breath and he doesn’t ask before pulling you to his chest. Wrapping both his arms around you, one around your back while the other holds your head protectively to him. Your own go around his waist as you grip him back tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he says.

“I’m okay,” you say again, muffled into his black high necked shirt, taking deep breaths of his soothing, familiar scent. You do it and again, and again. Repeating the pretty lie to yourself again and again until it becomes the truth. 

He doesn’t let go until you do, and you don’t let go until you’ve finally stopped shaking.

You look up into his eyes, and all signs of his previous wrath are gone. It seems the hug didn’t ground just you, it grounded him too. Got him out of the headspace that would’ve been required for action first, words later. But now the sun is back, it shines down on you, and you bask in its warmth. 

“I’m good now. Thank you,” you say in an even and unwavering voice, because you are. The panic and immense relief having washed over you, and you’re once again simply, pleasantly buzzed. 

Though you do have a new problem in the form of the warmth pooling low from the feeling of both his hands still on your lower back. 

You’re trying to convince yourself it’s his way of keeping you safe.

But the lock on your box has the key inside it, and it’s just begging for you to turn it. 

“Good,” he replies, still not letting go. And it’s chipping away at your sanity. “Who was that guy? I only caught the last bit of his pathetic ramblings.”

You wince. Due to a lovely combination of not being very active on social media, not being much of a picture taker, and the newly dyed hair Micah seemed to be sporting tonight, you’re not surprised Tae didn’t recognize him. 

“Ah. Uhm…That was...Micah,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes again. That’s when you notice his outfit tonight is all black. 

Oh you are so fucked.

 “As in Micah, Micah?” Tae asks neutrally, familiar with what your ex had done, just not what he looked like. 

“...Yeah...”

“I see.”

“Yeah...” You say again. Because what else could you say?

Tae cracks a smile. “Should’ve let me kick his ass. The balls on him not only to approach you, but to call you his—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing in a hushed, caring tone. “After everything he’s done to you, you should’ve let me, PG. Consequences be damned.”

Your cheeks flame at the nickname so close to your ears. So tenderly said. And you honestly can’t tell if you still hate it in this moment, or if it’s only adding kindling to the fire his hands are fueling at the base of your spine. 

The new name he’d called you earlier, its ignition point. 

My Girl.

My Girl.

You swear, even in your panicked state, you’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe before inhaling far too much all at once. 

Fuck, what you won’t give to hear him say it again. But you’re 98.9% sure that’s the three shots of vodka talking. Trying their best to turn the damn key. And maybe they succeed in turning it half way—hell, maybe all the way, because you look him back in the eyes and hear yourself say,

“Maybe I should’ve, but I was far too distracted by the new nickname you finally gave me to give a single fuck about anyone else.”

The moment the last word is out Taehyung stiffens beneath your touch, fingers locked on your back, and you’re very pretty sure you just fucked absolutely everything up. 

Years of good behaviour, of keeping yourself in check. Of pockets of time and side long glances and knowing nothing would ever happen, stolen from you. By your own big, fat, adrenaline depleted, vodka loosened mouth. 

You're a second away from damage control before his grip shifts from your lower back to your hips. 

Higher. Tighter. Controlling. Oh fuck.

He leans down to murmur, “Liked the new name, did you?” in your ear.

Shivers shoot from your crown to your core and down to your toes. Having his deep, deliciously inviting voice so fucking close to your pulse point has you millimeters away from drowning in it. You know he can feel it course through you, just like you can hear the smile it makes him display away from your eyesight as he does. 

“You did then,” he responds for you, a cat toying with its meal as he lifts his head once more to look into your eyes. 

You don’t need a mirror to know the state of your pupils. Your gaze is glazed over in the sinful kind of way.

“I did,” you needlessly confirm, looking up into similarly blown out ones.

The fingers twined behind him release, and make their way around to his abdomen. They pause to splay for just a second at the defined ridges, before slowly crawling up his chest and meeting again at the nape of his neck. 

They play with the soft hair there, gently scratching their nails at the skin beneath where it grows and you watch as your ministrations cause his eyes to roll back, flutter shut, and his head to meet the wall behind him. A barely audible moan escapes the confines of his lips before he swallows,  the divine bob of his adams apple as he tries to regain his composure is the dawn of your undoing. 

“Fuck, PG that isn’t fair,” he groans towards the ceiling, his hands on your waist clamping down harder, pulling you so close your bodies touch in more places they definitely shouldn’t be. The contact has you reeling and all you want is more, more, more of it. 

More of him.

“PG isn’t the name you called me earlier,” you hum, yanking on a single loose strand and Tae sucks in a steep breath, biting the corner of his smirking lip with a canine. 

You want to hear him say it again. Badly. So you release the sensual grip you have on his nape, and let his head lul slowly back down to where it was, his deepening amber wholly fixated on your now entirely onyx. Your heart is begging for release from your chest, and for a moment you wonder if he can see your pulse thrumming in your eyes, because you sure as hell can feel it.

“No, it’s not. But it also hasn’t meant to me what it means to you for quite some time now,” his voice like honey, thick and dripping its way over your body. It’s making you dizzy and weighty with want. It has your mouth opening slightly as he leans closer still, knocking his nose gently with your own. Inhaling in your exhales. Teasing you. Making you work for it. 

“And what does it mean to you?” you ask, barely above a whisper, irises never straying from his as your bottom lip brushes against his in one solitary, intoxicating moment that has you more buzzed in one touch than three shots has had you all night. 

“Pretty Girl,” he breathes onto your lips, pushing his thigh between your legs at the same time he pulls you impossibly closer. You hear yourself moan ‘fuck’ at the contact it gives your throbbing cunt. Too focused on the need coursing through you like a live wire—your body pure water—to think about what you’re saying.

It’s a sweet sound and a violent pleasure he devours as his lips finally, finally, finally crash into yours, pinning you in place and allowing him to take every piece of you he wants. One hand slithers up your naked spine to hold you, your backless dress doing you every favour imaginable as his other continues to help you grind over his thigh.

His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, causing him to jerk into you once with the rapidly growing want pressing into your lower belly. But your hands hold firm at his neck as you pull him into you, a knee lifting to meet his hip. Needing more contact.

The electricity filled pathways his fingers leave down your back, over your ass and across the bottom of your thigh to support your search for pleasure do nothing but spur on the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere. 

No holds barred. No clothes worn. Nothing stopping you. 

He uses his new grip to spin you around and press his hips into yours as your shoulders meet the wall. You’re left to moan sickly sweet sounds of bliss into his ear as Taehyung frees your mouth in favour of your jaw and neck, sucking gentle purple hues down the column of your throat and onto your collarbone. 

“Pretty Girl,” he whispers between love bites, “My Pretty Girl.” Over and over and it has you melting so far into him, the only thing keeping you apart is fabric and a potential audience. Though from the colour you’re going to have to cover with far too much concealer tomorrow, you don’t think he quite cares about that last part. 

It drives you farther into insanity. Years of want and restraint and pretty white lies you told yourself are crashing down on one another and it shows in the fervor of your touch, your wants, your pleads.

“Fuck, Tae—please. Please, I need you— please,” you beg, and the bite he leaves at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder has you gasping for air that refuses to be consumed gently. 

But Taehyung is a man on a mission. One who will not be deterred, and you can’t tell if he will be your pinnacle or your inevitable end. 

With what is very clearly great effort, Tae pulls himself back from your decolletage, only to kiss your lips once more. Open mouthed and dirty, tongue clinging to you like the only thing he’s concerned about is swallowing down as much of you as he can while you’ll let him, and you’ve never felt more desired in your life.

He’s hoarse as he says, “Not here. Not for the first time. Not…not here.” 

“Then where,” you ask, near impatient and far too eager as you let your hands roam wherever they want. And you find your thumbs tracing the waistline of his pants, dipping a nails width below where they should. They trail over the indented V of muscle you know is hiding under his shirt. He shudders. 

It makes you smile wickedly. 

“Then where, Taehyung,” you murmur into his neck with that wicked smile in your words as you trace your nose along his jaw. 

“Fuck, you’re something,” he says, almost pained, bringing you immense delight. To know you affect him as much as he does you. That you have him as much as he has you. 

Sly hands slowly pull his shirt from his trousers in an attempt to urge him on. It works, and his response is quick. 

“My place. It’s a ten minu—fuck PG,” he almost scolds as your digits toy with the hair at his navel, dipping lower—enough to feel the beginnings of something—but not low enough to discern anything. 

Yet.

 “Can you behave for that long?” 

You smirk. 

Retracting your hands, you hold them up to show you can be good, do a quick once over to make sure you're decent and spin on your heel to walk towards your booth. Tae is behind you immediately, hand placed low on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the sliver of skin it touches. You ignore the goose bumps that arise.

Rei and Lea are at your table, thankfully. You explain to them you ran into Micah and that it really shook you, so Tae’s going to take you home. They know who Tae is, so they’re not worried when they give you goodbye hugs or when they tell you to text them when you're home safe. 

You promise you will, and hope that the rest of Rei’s birthday goes well. 

True to his word, it’s a ten minute rideshare before you’re pulling up to a tall, black windowed apartment building.

You’ve only been to Tae’s a handful of times with your brother, mostly for things like pick ups for concerts and such, but now that you’re here—alone with him—you’re trying hard not to jump him in the fucking lobby. 

The pulsing between your legs has only worsened since you removed your hands from his waistline, and you’re close to crawling out of your skin with need. 

His hand stays in its place at your lower back as the elevator climbs. 

It’s not helping and completely helping at the same time.

Fuck.

Tae lives on the sixteenth floor and the view is incredible. It’s the first thing you see past the island when you walk in the front door. There’s the kitchen to the left past the entrance, which turns into the living space that’s furnished in a way you can only describe as pure Tae. 

Books littering every surface, warm neutral toned furniture to counterbalance the colourful artwork he keeps on the walls. There’s an old record player with a collection of vinyls in the corner and what you assume is this morning's coffee mug on the art book filled coffee table.

To the right of the living space is the bedroom. It’s a studio apartment, but Tae’s managed to keep the flow of the place beautifully with some creatively put, gorgeously decorated room dividers. And the tall floor to ceiling windows wrap around it all, showcasing the lights of the city as they blend into the stars in the night sky. 

Mesmerizing. 

Just like the man locking his door behind you.

A kiss is placed on the back of your neck as you slide out of your shoes at the front door. You angle your head to allow more space, letting the arm that folds around you bring you closer to him. The feel of his arousal begins to grow behind you once more and you push back against him. A faint grunt meets the shell of your ear before his hand delicately slides up from your lower stomach and past your sternum. It teases your neck for just a moment before it meets your jaw to turn your lips towards his. 

He captures them in a brutal kiss, drinking you in for all you’re worth and then some as his other hand replaces the one that now holds your jaw in place. He pulls you into him but you spin in his hold, throwing your arms around his neck once more and dragging him towards the living space. He sheds his jacket in the process, uncaring of where it lands on his floor so long as you are still kissing him. 

You only stop when your ass meets the top of the couch and Taehyung palms the back of your thighs to lift you, your legs wrapping themselves around his hips as you sit on its edge. 

He growls at the contact and it has you raking your nails down his neck and over his shirt as you open for him once more, tongues clashing and teeth scraping at the desperate nature you both share. You yank his shirt up and he breaks from your embrace for only the amount of time it takes for the fabric to hit the floor before he’s back on you, adding twin bruises to the other side of your throat. 

You let the strings holding up your dress fall naturally to the side, revealing your chest to him, and a  low, “Fucking hell,” is murmured somewhere below your ear before a nipple is in his mouth and you’re arching into his touch, slices of need shooting straight downwards. Giving no mercy to your attempts to draw out the pleasure. 

One large hand cups a breast, molding it to his wanting before he switches and you’re groaning into the air above you, begging him for more, determined to have his tongue anywhere and everywhere you can get it. He lavs at your peaked bud, roaming over the sensitive flesh, making you squirm at the sensations he’s drawing from you. 

You never want it to end as he makes his way back up to your mouth, dragging his bottom lip over all of the freshly deepend skin it trails in its wake, making you hazy with the feel of him and his marks. 

His delicate touch wanders the insides of your thighs and your cunt aches for it the higher it climbs. But it slides up not down, reaching around to your ass and hoisting you onto his hips. 

Turning, he walks the eight paces to his bed, places a knee on the mattress for support before setting you down. His lips never leave yours he crawls over you, settling his hips over yours for mere moments, allowing you to thrust only twice before he’s removing himself completely and sinking to his knees. 

The fingers you’ve spent way too much time thinking about can’t get enough of your skin as they skate down your sides, taking the dress bunched at your hips with them. You raise your hips to help him get the scrap of fabric off, leaving a delicate, black lace thong the only thing keeping any of your remaining modesty intact.

You watch as his now fully blackened gaze takes you in, jaw dropped in slight at the sight of you with your legs opened on his bed. Like you were the prize he’s been waiting years to claim, and now that you're here and that you’re his his, he can’t quite believe it. 

It’s then you realize that he wants you, and has been wanting you. That your attempts to stay in reality these last couple years weren’t just harder for you, but for him as well. 

It hasn’t been one sided.

He wants you. 

Taehyung. 

Off limits, older brother’s best friend, swim club participating, jazz and poetry loving, judo knowing, book gifting, perfect smile having, protective, Taehyung. 

Wants you. 

You can physically feel the gush that rushes from your core at the thought and you know Tae can see it through the lace.

“Holy fuck…you’re fucking drenched and I haven’t even properly touched you yet,” he rasps, unbelieving. 

“Then touch me and find out just how much I want this,” you whisper. Begging, pleading, praying your words have their intended effect. “How much I want you, Taehyung.”

The sound that leaves his throat is a mixture of a whimper, a groan, and a guttural noise indicative of pure desperate want as he takes hold of your legs and spreads them further. Those mother fucking fingers trace from your ankles to your knees accompanied by the occasional light kiss, back up your inner thighs, and finally to the spot where you’ve been weeping for him for the better part of thirty minutes with a heaping side of ten years yearned. 

He places one open mouthed kiss on the top of your clothed clit and that simple touch has you arching, lightning crackling through your veins with the pleasure it brings. Tae slides one single finger down your covered slit before pushing it under and pulling it to the side. 

At the mere sight of you he’s swearing so fiercely under his breath that you involuntarily clench and he can’t fucking take it anymore.

His mouth is on you and you buck at the sensation. Yielding you no mercy, his tongue swipes from opening to clit in one long lick that has you gasping, clutching bed sheets above and below your head to keep from screaming. 

“Oh my—Fuck—Tae. Ohmygodohmy—” you’re rambling. Incoherent. A mess. 

He’s consuming your very being, no nerve left untouched, no reaction too minimal for his learning as he snakes his hands around your legs to haul you closer, pull you deeper into his mouth and you can’t fucking take it. You’re screaming out at the intensity he circles you with, and you can feel your impending orgasm come rushing to the surface. You’ve barely even processed it’s begun before you’re spasming so hard Tae has to remove an arm from your leg to throw around your pelvis. 

His devious fucking eyes meet yours for one earth shattering moment as he slips two fingers inside and begins a secondary merciless pursuit on your already overwhelmed senses. Using the pads to press upwards in time to the motions he never ceased with his tongue, a second wave is cresting before the first has ceased and you feel yourself clamping down, legs holding him in place as the intensity of your release climaxes. 

You’ve never felt a pressure so intense before, it’s like your body is a volcano and you’re erupting for the first time while someone sets off fireworks from its peak. The lava flows in waves, your hand holding his hair as you ride his face, shuddering at the vibrations his moan into your cunt leaves on the most sensitive parts of your body. 

Gentle strokes and licks calm as your pleasure begins to wane and you can breathe in more than just stuttered inhales again. 

“Holy fu–” you try to get out, but your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been screaming the entire time. 

And fuck, maybe you have been. You sure as hell can’t remember or think of anything more than the warm fuzzy feeling currently radiating from every single pore in your body. The damningly  deliciously dizzying feeling in your head not allowing for coherent thoughts to pass. Your limbs are loose, your body wholly relaxed. 

You’re…Well. You’re fucking perfect right now. If you could stay in this moment forever you would without second thought. Locked in this room with him for all time sounds like the best way to live out the rest of your days.

Until you wince as Tae blows warm breath on your core and he chuckles, then does it again. 

“Hey,” you say, sounding much clearer now, “Stop that and come here.”

You slip your hand down his face and grab him by the jaw, pulling him up and over you. Tae tastes like fire and whiskey and ambrosia and you as you kiss him with abandon, near feral as you take what you want from him and he revels in it. 

He’s on his elbows and a knee over you, and you use it to your full advantage to palm him over his pants and—Fuck he’s big. No wonder he was so thorough on you. This is going to hurt no matter how much prep either of you did.

He hisses at the contact and that only spurs you on, grasping firmly at his base and roving up and over the head with the heel of your palm, squeezing gently in time with his reactions.

“Christ PG, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants,” Tae laughs into your neck before rising to sit back on his heels. He gets as far as undoing his belt buckle and button before you take over, sitting up and pulling him out. 

He is disastrously beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at just the idea of him in your mouth. 

Licking your lips, you hear him curse quite colourfully as you take the tip into your mouth and swish your tongue over the head. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

Tae raises one hand to his eyes and the other behind him to hold him up as you take him deeper, shaking from restraining himself so hard, murmuring to himself, “Oh fuck. Fuck me, can’t believe—so fucking good, pretty—perfect—ohmygod,” and you seal the motherfucking deal by taking him into the back of your throat and looking up into his eyes at the same time. 

Taehyung barks and bucks once into your throat before removing himself and throwing you down onto the bed. He looks furious in the way that gets your heart racing, your cunt thrumming and your breathing so fast your chest feels like it might shatter from the crosscurrents. 

He grabs each of your hands and raises them above your head, sliding his fingers up your wrists and between your own, holding them in place on his pillow.

Leaning down, he uses his lowest timber to speak darkly into your ear, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his cock. Sliding back and forth, sending bolts of white hot need through you. 

“You drive me fucking insane,” he starts, thrusting, teasing, torturing. And you moan at the contact. 

“You make me want to throw away a decades old friendship just for the chance to touch you.” 

Thrust, tease, jolt, whine. 

“And what’s worst of all is you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and you turn me into a complete idiot the second you enter the room. It’s like your fucking presence takes away all the working functions in my brain and leaves me with only the incurable fucking desire to make you cum until you can’t remember you own fucking name. Only mine.”

Thrust, squeeze, glide, jolt. “Tae...” you whine, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his greed and  delighted by his torture.

“I call you PG because it’s the only way I can get away with calling you anything more than your name around him.” He sounds almost angry with how low he growls. “And it means so much more than you could think.”

He leans further into you, so close now that his lips brush your ear as he speaks. 

“My Pretty Girl,” thrust, “My Precious Girl,” moan, “My Perfect Fucking Girl.” 

He releases one hand to line himself up with your entrance. “That’s who you are to me. That’s what I’m calling you when I call you PG. My Pretty, Precious, Perfect Girl. My Girl.” He slips past your walls, sinking deep and you both groan in euphoric unison. “Mine.”

Tae pulls out, slow and controlled. 

Blissful. 

Then pushes back in, methodically. 

Torturous. 

Feeling every inch you can take, which is every single fucking one.

Inevitable.

Bottoming out for the second time, you whisper, “Yours,” into his ear, and he turns fucking ravenous.

Setting an absolutely ruthless pace, he claims your body, taking what’s so clearly always been his. Your legs wrap around him again, digging a heel into his ass as you drive him closer, harder with every push. Then lay claim to the one thing you’re able to, taking his lips with yours and biting down hard enough to draw the most sinful groan from the back of his throat. Hoarse, deep, almost broken with how raw it is. 

One hand bruises its fingerprints into your hip while the other holds him up over you, and you use this to your advantage, slipping one leg around his and flipping the both of you over. 

You trail your tongue down his jaw to his clavicle, he tastes of sweat and lust and sex and it is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever consumed. Creating your own gardens of little blooming flowers down one side of his neck and up the other, Taehyung moans greedily into your ear as your ride to match his thrusts, sending him deeper while you decorate your willing canvas. 

Because as much as he wishes to lay claim to your body, you want to claim his as well. 

“Mine,” you say, positioning yourself to take over completely, using the springs of the mattress to do most of the work for you. 

“Yes,” he says. But that’s not good enough. 

“Mine,” you demand, and let loose, pressing down on the mattress with your knees rapidly, creating the glorious effect you wanted. You watch as the up force from the mattress causes Taehyung to be driven into you so quickly he throws his head back, mouth dropped in pure ecstasy. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, YN, What the fuck—” he rambles, lost to the pleasure, biting his lip, going slackjawed, clenching and unclenching his fists into bedsheets that already have your handprints seared into them.

And you keep going, a little torture creation of your own. 

“Mine,” you demand again, and this time, it clicks.

“Yours! Fuck, yours. All yours, only yours,” he surrenders and you slow back down to a regular pace, breathless. 

It’s a great move but it’s exerting. 

You all but collapse on his chest and he takes over, thrillingly pissed off due to your power play. 

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asks, and you clench at his tone. 

He removes himself and you whimper, but he’s maneuvering you like a ragdoll on the bed and you’re more than fucking willing to be thrown around. 

He’s kneeling on the bed, lifting your hips and sliding into you in a doggy style, but then he’s doing the most insane thing you think you’ve ever seen. With an arm around your stomach he brings your back to his torso and twists you both to face the open floor to ceiling windows. One of your legs is thrown over his that’s up to splay you wide for the skyline to see, and you can see your reflection in the glass. 

You look beyond fucked out, and so does he, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. But then his hand is sliding to your throat, and a whispered, “Is this okay?” finds your ears. You nod.

Gripping the sides of your throat, he slides his other hand to graze your clit before beginning his own version of the move you just pulled. Pumping into you at a pace that has your g-spot screaming from all of the attention it’s receiving, his fingers swiping deftly over the bundled nerves at the apex of your thigh whilst lightly cutting off the blood supply to your brain. 

It has you twitching and hazy and dizzy in seconds. You can see yourself losing to the feeling so steadily building at the base of your spine in the glass. Mouth open, body willing, the man who’s been at the center of your wanting for longer than you can remember, its deliverance. 

Dark, sex tousled hair, muscled forearms holding you up and driving you insane. Blackened eyes focused on you and only you through the mirror the darkness of the night’s sky has created for you. 

It’s that visual that sets you over the edge when he releases your throat, and you feel a gush flowing from where you two meet.

“Fuuuck yes. My Perfect Girl, cum all over my sheets, drench my cock. That’s it,” he purrs in your ear and it’s doing nothing but sending shock after shock into your already over sensitive and pulsing cunt, letting your consciousness float somewhere above or below you, you don’t really care. 

All you know is that you feel light as a feather and not of this earthly plane. 

Taehyung removes himself and lies you down gently. He’s back inside soon after and it just feels right as he fills you, like it’s where he’s meant to be. 

He hovers over you once more, and you lift a single knee to his hip, mimicking your position from the club as he thrusts into you with fervor, chasing his own high after delivering three mind shattering ones to you. 

Reaching one hand to his cheek, you hold him as he kisses you, working himself to completion. 

Using your other to deliver a few expert circles to your clit, so you can come together, you breathe in each other's release and  drown in once another’s embrace. 

You leave his name on your tongue this time. A gift. A cry so delicate that a tear falls from your cheek and he kisses it away.

Taehyung inhales sharply, before stuttering his exhale and an exquisite warmth fills you.

“F-f-uu-ckkk,” he shudders as he lets the aftershocks of his release claim you in the most basic and animalistic of ways. You drink in the vulnerable sound, taking his mouth with yours one final time as you bask in each other's pleasure. Silent but for catching breaths, exertion evident as you hold one another. 

Taehyung rests on your chest. Lines are sketched gently with your nails up and down his spine and into his hair as he comes down, content in the afterglow, where nothing is wrong and everything is perfect. 

Before consequences kick in and regrets form. 

When he decides he’s ready, Tae lifts and removes himself from you and you can feel the remnants of your combined efforts slide down to the bedsheets. 

Tae takes a single finger and gathers it up before pressing it back in. You hiss at the now tender flesh. Though the pain doesn’t stop the warmth newly pooling at the sight and feel and meaning. 

He pumps it back in once, twice before removing his finger and placing it in his mouth to clean off. Your cunt flutters at the sight and Tae smirks, leaning forward to share his findings with you in the form of a filthy, open mouthed, tongue filled kiss. It’s slightly salty, slightly metallic but you pull him back for one last lick when he tries to pull away. 

Watching him kneeling there, in the glow of moonlight, you realize just how truly beautiful he is. The shape of his illuminated profile, the expanse of his chest as he breathes in, the colour of his skin under silver rays. He’s stunning. 

You smile up at him, spent, sated and so astronomically fucked if your brother ever finds out. 

Tae must see the thought on your face, because he says, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”

But you honestly don’t give a fuck about that right now. That’s a tomorrow issue. What you want to know is, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what, exactly?” He specifies. 

You sit up, eye to eye as he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg on the ground. 

“All of it. Any of it.”

There. 

Now it was out in the open. And the rest is up to him. 

You could drag yourself back down to reality. Chalk this night up to booze and bad timing and perfect timing. Could convince yourself it was just one night and that it would have to be enou—

“All of it,” he interrupts, the most sincere expression you’ve ever seen on him on full display. “Definitely all of it. Every last fucking word.”

You slump on your exhale, so fucking relieved you didn’t have to keep trying to lie to yourself that you could forget this happened. 

You’re laughing before you can fight it off, shoulders shaking. Smiling so wide it hurts. 

“Uh..YN?” Tae asks, clearly not sure how to take your reaction and you compose yourself. 

“That’s PG to you,” you say as you crawl onto his lap, and kiss him into oblivion. 

It’s interesting to finally sit on the dock across the way in East Egg. 

The fog is gone, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the little box you kept sits open next to you, the lock and its key lost somewhere to the depths below your feet. Funny how harmless it seems now that there’s nothing locked inside anymore, like it could never really have hurt you in the first place. 

You take in your newly emptied creation, and quirk a brow when you see it move. 

A wiggle at first, before it’s shaking and spinning and shrinking, turning from a box into a glass windowed locket. Golden and delicate and beautiful, with a matching chain. You ponder for a moment what it could be for, before turning to look down at the green light to your right. 

An idea strikes. 

Unclasping the little window, you lift the opened pendant to the green light. And to your delight, the emerald hue hops into its new home, closing its tiny windowed door. 

You smile at the clever little light, lacing the chain around your neck, resting it on the middle of your sternum, right above your heart. Its brilliant hue shining brightly through the pane for all to see.

Funny how the green light you so longed for, longed for you back, and is now yours for keeps.

A/N 2.5: This is what has been rotting in my brain for the better half of two weeks so please enjoy, it was supposed to be short and trope filled to cure my writers block but apparently I am incapable of short. But trope filled it clearly is. Overall tho, I'm quite pleased with this one.

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

Masterlist

[hihimissamericanbi]

FAVE HP SMUT CREATORS

Ever since I got that lovely anon asking for the best smut I've ever read, it got me thinking about some of my favorite smut creators in general.

So here is a very non-exhaustive list of fan-fucking-tastic smut writers and artists I've come across in the HP fandom that weren't mentioned (shamefully) in my last batch. Feel free to add to the list! We must keep the people fed.

xoxo go take a sip of cold water girl

WRITERS

@spookymoonie

Lord Espooky came into this fandom guns a-blazing with their kink headcanon a day for Wolfstar and it has spiraled from there. They GET IT. He has a super well-organized masterlist pinned to his tumblr ft tons of different kinks, fic lengths, scenes, etc. Go. Now.

@fiveht

The definition of IYKYK. Daddy kink isn't super my thing, but Five makes me enjoy it. If you vibe with age gap daddy Remus and pretty boy Sirius, their Adore series is a must-read. They also have a stellar A/B/O Wolfstar fic plus podfic and write some Marvel too!

@greenvlvetcouch

An absolute legend in this fandom. Wolfstar, Jeggy, Rosekiller. Gritty, chewy, embodied sex.

@emeryhall

Emery writes sex the way some people breathe. Like it's just part of the narrative. It's SO punchy. And also she is the queen of Crack Smut.

@kaaaaaaarf

Patron saint of Wolfstar hatefucks. mic drop.

@cancerravenclaw

We snagged MK over to Wolfstar from the clutches of Dramione. Her series "mk's kink exposé" could also be called "celine's kink exposé." I'll just leave that there.

@wolfpants

Everything they create is magic, but they are especially known for rare pairs and Dronarry.

WRITERS AND ARTISTS

@aspiring-artist-em

The queen of Lesbian Wolfstar. Both art and fic. Also queen of humiliation and pain kink and Walburga psychological trauma. ye be warned.

@upthehillnsfw / @upthehillart

I am afraid no one is ready for this art. Truly. Tons of different ships, positions, acts. I gasp every time. And their Pansmione fic is epic (which I have talked about before).

ARTISTS

@industrations

I highly recommend getting on Indi's Patreon so you can enjoy their NSFW drawings, mostly Wolfstar and Jegulus, occasional Rosekiller. Too many iconic moments to count.

@waxingrunes

The officially-sponsored artist of Five's Adore series. Look, their work is nothing short of indulgent. Shhhh don't worry about the physics just let it happen. And by It I mean Remus' big dick hands.

@basiatlu

By beloved. The one. The only. Bosh's drawings are so ALIVE. They leap off the screen. Her Drarry is nothing less than iconic. She also dabbles in other characters/ships like Wolfstar and Blackcest. Siriusly, you can't go wrong.

DRARRY SMUT

OKAY, Drarry people. There are so so many excellent Drarry smut writers it is impossible to name them all. Here are but a tiny handful I have pulled from my bookmarks. I'm happy to rec specific fics if asked :)

@cavendishbutterfly, @bixgirl1, @l0vegl0wsinthedark, @shiftylinguini, @kbrick, @fluxweeed, @academicdisasterfic

MORE

I'm tagging those other creators from older asks because I can't put this list out there without them on it <3

@crushofdoves @we-are-swearwolves @tenthousandyearsx @theresthesnitch @lqtraintracks Quietlemonhush @cuddlebugsirius

[soulren]

Go spend some time on male pattern baldness or male(AMAB) balding forums/subreddits and such. I did after realizing it is happening to me and the ammount of people who truly don't realize how BRUTALLY it tanks people's confidence and mental health is insane.

There's no cure to baldness by the way, and it can start at any time and there's no way to predict how fast or slow it will go. The only real working option is a daily pill that usually just halts it, but it can stop working or just slow it down or cause major side effects. To regrow you have to use a daily topical solution, or use a roller to wound your scalp. None of these are surefire by the way, and if you stop them you'll just lose your hair and whatever you regained. It's a daily involved thing that might not work and often at best just retains. The best drug, the one that occasionaly gives regrowth, also causes shedding at the start, and can have side effects from growing breasts to brain fog to EDsyfunction(sorry, censoring cause tumblr). Now, those are INCREDIBLY rare and almost never happen but it weighs heavily on the mind of those already spiraling.

But that's just background. What I'm here to talk about is the pure woe you'll see on those forums. People speak as though their lives are over, as though they've lost every chance of finding a woman(predominantly, there's a running idea in such places that women don't like bald men or like them less) or doing anything. You can read countless stories of people who describe that they no longer go outside, are now filled with anxiety and self-hate, have gone from extroverted to never showing their face. And some of these people are kids who lost their hair in high school or even before, or are holding as best they can to a very receded hairline and feel like there is nothing they can do.

And then there's something touched upon far less in those communities, but is important to bring up here; baldness and masculinity. There's the horror of knowing so much of society sees a bald guy as a very masculine guy, at seeing that the best advice for being hot and bald is "grow and beard and big muscles bro". Imagine now you're AMAB balding and nonbinary, or a trans woman who doesn't want to be on hormones.

Just genuinely take the time to look at those forums no matter who you are. Understand what these people go through, what I am currently going through. It is soul-crushing, spiraling, brutal. I have the dream of one day being like Brennan Lee Mulligan or Matt Mercer and starting to lose my hair made me feel like I could never. I felt like and still feel like I would have to be masculine, have to be a bro-y dude, have to look older than I was(I'm fuckin 22). It was the feeling that I could never dress feminine again, never present as a woman when I wanted to again, that I'd always be viewed as a bald guy before anything else.

This is an incredibly vulnerable post for me, and I hope it reaches you all as well in a kind and understanding mood. There's a tendency online for people to joke about baldness, to make fun of it, to treat it as a playfull silly thing but it fucking ruins lives, and it shouldn't. It happens to half the population's sort of bodies and very often. It should just be a neutral thing. You don't need long hair to be feminine, you don't need hair to be feminine. You don't need hair for anything. I guess I'm just saying in general that everyone should be kinder about balding, more understanding, and view it with as much import as they'd view the pixels between this sentence and the next. None at all, I mean.

And for those like me, very feminine guys who wanna keep that and don't want a beard and are terrified of balding, here's some names and I do hope others that see this will add more; Mr. Bruce (also in The Correspondents(band) Alex Ward in LA By Night Jason Carl in LA By Night Cecil Baldwin of Welcome To Night Vale Bob The Drag Queen RuPaul(in looks alone, I know about the whole fracking stuff but this post is about looks) tananasho on instagram Also your mannerisms and style of dress will convey femininity far more than your hair. Yea sure a front-on neutral shot of you may not and maybe you need makeup and stuff, and hell maybe a lot of people might reject you more but it'll just filter down to the people for you.

And to all you artists and writers and creatives; make more bald characters. Try it out. Feminine ones, masculine ones, all sorts. None of the copout nonhuman sort, just dudes and girls and mates and individuals who are all sorts of things and also bald. It might make a few of the people going through the various vortexes of pain that balding causes feel a bit better.

And to those noticing I did not adress female hair loss much here, that was intentional. I am AMAB and currently a nonbinary guy who goes by any pronouns but often likes to present as fem. I learned I was possibly losing my hair and lost two months of my life, no work or going or anything, to male hair loss forums and research and spiraling. Checking my hair twenty times a day, unable to sleep, unable to eat, unable to think. And my situation was NOT unique, but it also did not give me any experience or understanding of female hair loss and what AFAB people may go through with that, so I don't feel knowledgeable enough to speak on it. Also living with baldness WILL get easier and you will find something that works for it, by virtue of simply living with it. Things get easier with time.

[ilsanslut]

꒷♡꒷ TREAT YOU BETTER!

♰ featuring: sae itoshi + rin itoshi (mentioned) [blue lock]

♰ note: this one is a DOOSY and i'm not even kidding when i say it took me 9 hours and 45 minutes to complete this, over the course of two days of course. However, as my first time ever writing on tumblr, i decided to go all out! that being said, it would mean a lot to me if you would support this work by reading, liking, and reblogging!

sypnosis: why be with his lukewarm little brother when you could be with him instead? wc: 6.6k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. fem/fem-bodied reader. POST BLUE LOCK. sibling rivalry. implied thick/chubby!reader. sae is mean. jealous!sae. bully!sae. rin is 19. sae is 21. CHEATING. degradation. unprotected sex. fingering. squirting. rough sex. DUBIOUS CONTENT. spanking. dacryphilia. slut shaming. groping. implied size kink. minor angst. hair pulling. ONE face slap. pussy slapping.꒷꒦ view the second part here: part two.

Coming home for the holidays, birthdays, or other special occasions is somewhat of a family tradition that enables people to slow down and focus on spending quality time with loved ones. These kinds of celebrations give families that may otherwise be estranged from one another due to work or geography the chance to reunite and enjoy each other's company. And this reasoning was no different in the Itoshi household. What was the occasion for this month’s gathering? Well, it was Mama Itoshi’s birthday, of course!

You see, you have known Rin and Sae Itoshi since you were all very young. Your mothers were best friends, and by default, that meant that you three would become close as well.

Growing up with the Itoshi brothers, on the other hand, was . . . interesting, to say the least. Where Rin found your presence to be refreshing, Sae found you to be a nuisance. You didn’t care for football; you got in the way of his practice; and you were a girl. He always thought you were too weak to play with, and he didn’t hesitate to make his feelings known to you. Pulling your hair until you screamed, pushing you around when you weren’t even in his way, and calling you mean names until your little E/C eyes welded up with fat tears were just some of the things he would do to torment you. Had it not been for little Rinnie stepping in and protecting you from his brother’s outright bullying, Sae most likely would’ve continued until you cried to your mom about how mean Sae-chan was to you. But you would never do that. Your little crush on him would never allow you to get him into trouble.

Nii-chan! Don’t be too mean to Y/N. You’ll make her inner crybaby come out!

When Sae was especially cruel to you, Rin was always there to lift your spirits. He would tell you not to worry about his "meanie Nii-chan," take your hand and wipe your tears and snotty face, and lead you up to his room where you two could watch movies and play action figures away from his brother's taunts. Even if he could not take you away right away, for instance, if you three were at the park, he would always come and ride the swings or the big slides with you just to make you happy. Despite Sae’s every protest about how you were nothing more than a distraction to him, Rin, and football, you knew that your friendship was sincere and unbreakable.

As you three went through the ups and downs of childhood, you also weathered the storms of adolescence together. Sae left for Madrid, leaving you, Rin, and your previous feelings for his older brother behind to navigate the social awkwardness of junior high and share in each other's accomplishments while he was with his football team and you were at your respective clubs. Your friendship was a source of strength during those formative years, providing solace and understanding when the world seemed confusing.

As you two approached your high school years, something began to change. Accidental touches felt more like fleeting sparks, while innocent glances became lingering stares. Neither of you fully comprehended your newfound feelings, tiptoeing around the unsaid emotions that seemed to glimmer between the two of you until the day Rin asked you to be his just before entering Blue Lock. Now, for the past three years, you have been a happy couple, embarking on the dreaded hell of adulthood and the next chapter of your lives hand-in-hand.

Back in the present, the two of you were glad that Rin finally had some downtime from soccer—well . . . more so you than him. Even after the events of Blue Lock, he and Sae remained rivals, seizing any opportunity they could to humiliate each other on the field. That being said, Rin was almost always in the gym, meditating, doing yoga, or practicing his skills to pass the time. It was nice to be able to spend time together without the stress of his next upcoming game or press conference.

Because it was his mother's birthday weekend and all, she would, of course, invite her boys to come to stay with her and their father for the occasion, which included you too since you were Rin’s girlfriend. However, in the few days that you and Rin have already been at his childhood home, Sae had yet to arrive, and no one had heard from him since he texted his mother that he was on his way to the airport to depart. Regardless, the family was busy finalizing plans for their mother's big day. Mr. Itoshi was at the bakery finalizing the details for his wife's cake, Mrs. Itoshi was out for brunch with your mother, and Rin had gone for an afternoon jog because "staying cooped up all day will turn him into a lukewarm lard ass," in his words. As for you? You had just begun to rise, completing some housework in one of Rin’s old jerseys and washing the dishes on which you and Rin had just eaten a delicious breakfast.

After completing your tasks, you made your way back up the lavish stairs of their home with every intention of going back into Rin’s childhood room that you two were sharing for the weekend when you froze. Your gaze traveled to the opposite end of the hallway, to the closed door whose presence loomed in the distance—Sae’s room.

Memories from your childhood flashed back to you, of you watching him and Rin play all too violent and scary zombie video games, rewatching his matches, and, most begrudgingly, the numerous times he nudged your head with his foot and tousled your perfectly styled hair just to get a rise out of you.

Cringing internally at the past memories, you took a further step in the direction of Rin's room before hesitating once more.

It wouldn’t hurt to take a little peek inside Sae’s room, would it?

Despite your better judgment, you shuffled over the closed door and paused with your slender digits loosely encircling the handle. Your stomach churned and your heart thumped in your chest as your inner voice warned you not to enter another person's private space without their consent. But hold on—why were you getting anxious? Who was going to catch you when no one was at home? Turning the knob gently, the heavy oak door would give way with the tiniest of creaks, revealing a rather uninteresting-looking room. But given that Sae had rarely if ever, been home since junior high, it only made sense for it to be so plain. Aside from the plethora of trophies, medals, certificates, and framed photos that lined his dresser, what made it even more amusing was that those were only the leftovers from what could not fit in his trophy case beside his wooden dresser, which housed some of his youth team jerseys and junior trinkets.

You crept further into the cold room, wrapping your arms around yourself, and shuffled over to the plethora of awards from Sae's tireless efforts. As much as you weren’t fond of him, you had to admit that it was beyond admirable that a child was able to accomplish so much in so little time. He possessed a natural talent that professionals would kill for and others were envious of. Even though you were never interested in the sport, you envied him for being so naturally gifted at something he was passionate about.

“Some ‘monster genius’, huh?” You scoffed to yourself as your gaze fell on the last photo of Sae and Rin playing on the same team together before their relationship fell apart. Oh, how you miss those good old days of your youth.

“The fuck are you doing in here?”

Coming from behind you, an all too familiar voice startled you out of your reverie. Turning around, your wide eyes came to rest on Sae's form, which was motionless in the doorway, his stoic visage forever unamused, and his overnight shoulder bag resting by his feet.

When did he come in?

More notably, he’s . . . changed from the last time you’ve seen him since the U-20 vs. Blue Lock game three years ago. He was a bit taller, probably around 6’2” now. Because he was wearing a long-sleeved white compression shirt and gray sweatpants, you were able to see that his muscles were more defined than before, with every ridge and curve pronounced more vividly. His maroon locks had grown a bit longer, with his fringes now reaching slightly beyond his chiseled, clenched jaw, though his bangs remained forever lopsided and flipped back. And his turquoise eyes—had they gotten even sharper since the last time you'd seen them? The way they were glowering down at you, it was almost as though they were piercing right through your very soul.

“You deaf or something, you half-brained moron?”

Your eyes rolled exasperatedly into the back of your head as he rudely interrupted your thoughts. Only ten seconds after you reconnected, here he was spewing insults your way.

“Nice to see you too, Sae.” You grumbled sarcastically, internally dreading what this weekend would hold in store for the both of you.

In response, he hummed, remaining motionless in the doorway as his teal eyes bore into you with something unknown. The truth is, while you were distracted by his physical appearance, he was ogling you in the same manner. You had grown since the last time he’d seen you when you were back in high school. Your once innocent eyes now had a glint in them that could only be described as nubile; your once round cheeks had slimmed a bit to fit your maturing features; and your body . . . Damn, have you really grown over the years. You had developed a more feminine frame, with fuller thighs, widened hips, larger breasts, and a more prominent ass. You had developed into a truly breathtaking young woman, despite how much he hated to admit it.

“Almost thought you weren’t going to show at all.” You sighed, lazily checking your nails. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I live here.” His voice was deadpan and monotone, yet it held an underlying hint of irritation. “All these years have passed since grade school, and you’re still as braindead as when you were a child.”

“And you’re just as much of an asshole as you used to be.”

You resisted the urge to sneer, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he was getting under your skin, as you dropped your arms to your sides. When you made this motion, his brows would furrow, and he would cast a scrutinizing glare at your choice of clothing.

Talking to him was futile, and you did not want to be in this room any longer than necessary now that he was there. “Good to have you home, genius.” You spat sarcastically, attempting to push past him to exit the room, when all of a sudden his large hand would seize your bicep, halting your steps.

Your head snapped to him, your gaze a mixture of frustration and confusion as your lips parted to shout a rebuttal his way; however, upon seeing the blazing fire that had ignited in his eyes, you hesitated. His eyes narrowed to thin slits, like two fiery coals burning fiercely within his sockets. The intensity of his gaze was enough to send shivers down your spine, making you acutely aware of the gravity of his sudden wrath. His jaw clenched tightly, showing the strain of controlling his rage, and his brows furrowed, forming a menacing V-shape above his oculars.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” He seethed through clenched teeth, his voice deep and full of poorly contained malice.

You blinked. Your jaw dropped as you gawked at him, beyond perplexed. He had caught you so off guard that even you had to check what you were wearing to make sure you were not wearing anything objectionable. Nothing worth offending—fuzzy black pajama shorts that hugged your plush thighs, plain slippers, Rin's worn-out football jersey.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, you coy little slut.”

That silenced you effectively. Your eyes enlarged—almost lamblike—and your pretty lips drew in a subtle gasp. Any previous spark that had been ignited within you had quickly diminished, choosing silence over tossing more gasoline onto Sae’s roaring flames.

It appeared as though his entire being was directing his wrath into his single, piercing gaze as every muscle in his face tightened with each passing second. His lips, which are typically flat or curved into an unamused frown, were now deep-set, corners tugging into an awful scowl.

“Why are you wearing that lukewarm loser’s jersey?” When you should be wearing mine?

Now it was your turn to be infuriated as he insulted your boyfriend—his brother—the same person he had thrown out like garbage all those years earlier. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest that you could hear your blood pumping in your ears.

“So I’m not allowed to wear my own boyfriend’s jersey now, fuckface?” His gaze faltered. “You going to call me names for that too, Sae? Pull my hair? Spit in my face? Huh?”

“*What did you just say?”

“I said are you going to—”

“No, you cow-titted bimbo. The first thing you said.” He leaned in closer to your face, his eyes owlish and unblinking since you opened your mouth. You could smell his minty breath from the gum he had been chewing wafting into your face, “Say it again.”

“I’m not allowed to wear my boyfriend’s jersey?” You repeated, confusion etching your tone.

“That.” He snarled, his voice elated in a sick way, as though he had just found out the answer to some legendary riddle.

The hand that had been gripping your bicep now violently jerked you to the side, shoving you into his door. Before you had time to react, he crowded your personal space as his forearm pressed against the wood above your head, allowing you to smell the faint scent of his expensive cologne. “When did that happen?”

The initial fire that fueled his rage now transformed into a different kind of heat, a simmering and bitter envy that gnawed at his insides. He found himself grappling with conflicting emotions - on the one hand, he was somewhat happy that his blockhead of a brother managed to get a girlfriend, but on the other hand, it was you. The same girl that he had been pining over since you were first introduced to him all those years ago. The same girl that he thought was prettiest when she pouted at him with fat tears in her eyes and pleaded with him to be nicer to her. The same girl that consumed his thoughts 24/7. The same girl that he jerked his cock to at night after seeing how her fat tits in that all too small jersey bounced every time she cheered for his brother at that stupid game against Blue Lock. The same girl that, on all of those lonely nights overseas, he wished that, instead of fucking his fist, he was pummeling himself deep in your sopping wet cunt. The same girl that he was about to ruin before his brother got home from his whereabouts.

“Before Blue Lock . . .” Your voice was hushed, barely above a whisper, as though you were afraid of awakening a savage beast.

Three years. Three fucking years, and no one told him?! Not his mother, not his father, not Rin, not your stupid little social media (that he may or may not have been stalking) where you posted pictures of cats, candid photos of your friends, or whatever the fuck you got at your local coffee shop that day—not even you.

His once-obvious fury and visceral expression subsided, simmering beneath the surface in a contained inferno that burned with a ferocity few could fathom. Despite the turmoil raging inside him, he remained eerily calm, his stoic facade masking the storm within.

His demeanor exuded a cold, steely resolve that sent shivers down your spine and, quite frankly, took your breath away. There was an ominous sense of stillness in his presence, as if the air itself dared not disturb the calmness he projected.

“. . . Do you love him?” He spoke in hushed tones, each word enunciated with precision and purpose. There was no need for loud outbursts; the intensity of his calmness alone was enough to make you cower beneath him.

You were dumbfounded by his question, powerless to respond, and yet the longer you remained silent, the more you could see the cracks in his facade begin to scorch through his surface.

“D-Don’t be stupid, Sae. Of course I do, he’s my—”

You would never be able to finish your statement quick enough before his hands were on you, meaty palms digging into your hair, blunt nails scratching against your scalp as he grabbed a visceral hold onto your roots. The searing pain and astonishment coursing through your frame had you shrieking—in what? You didn’t know. Fear? Agony? Guilt?

Using his grip on you as a lead, he would tug you forcefully out of your slippers and down the hall to somewhere unknown. He ignored your screams as the weight atop your head forced your sight to the ground, your manicured nails digging into his wrist and clawing in an attempt to be freed.

“S-Sae, I-I’m sorry! Please, let me go! You’re hurting me!”

He said nothing, his heavy and deliberate footsteps speaking for him before he paused a short distance later. He threw you forward carelessly with surprising strength, causing you to land painfully on the wooden floors in front of you, barely having time to brace yourself with your palms. You had no time to catch your breath, though, as he shuffled over to you with fast-paced footsteps. Looking up fretfully, you would see Sae towering over you, taking notice that you were now on the floor of Rin’s room just before his bed.

“Sae—”

“Sae! Sae! Don’t be stupid; I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He openly mocked you, his lip curled into the faintest of sneers as he glowered down at you in hatred. Although even you could see that there was a bit of hurt behind his cruel teal eyes, “All you do is flap those pretty fuckin’ lips of yours, never knowin’ when to shut your stupid little trap.”

He relished in the way your bottom lip trembled and your eyes grew glassy, the same way they used to all those years ago.

“Still a little crybaby too, I see. Don’t worry, baby, you’ll be sorry soon enough for leading me on all this time.” He grumbled, lunging for you again.

He snagged at your roots again, drawing a sob from your lips as he mercilessly dragged you to your feet. Releasing his grip on your hair, he instead chose to grab your jaw harshly in his palm, using his thumb and forefinger to squish your cheeks and pucker your lips so that he may smash his lips against your own. It was messy, sloppy, and full of passion and rage on Sae’s end. He smeared your gloss, claimed your brims, and forced his tongue into your pretty, pliant mouth, all with the intention of claiming you and your maw for his own—but you would never let him.

You belong to Rin! You were loyal to him! So then, why do Sae’s lips feel so damn good against your own right now? This was wrong. So, so wrong, and yet, why did you want more of him?

Your mind was cloudy. Your head was spinning. You couldn’t breathe. He was suffocating you. Your dainty fists beat at his beefy chest and shoulders, trying to get him to get off of you, but to no avail. Instead, he seized both of your wrists in the grasp of his other hand and squeezed painfully in a warning, forcing you to whine against his lips—a delightful sound that went straight to his hardening bulge that he shamelessly pressed against you, grinding sinfully against your hips.

When he finally pulled away from you, you clearly appeared dazed. Your eyes were half-lidded and glassy, yet you were silently pleading for him to give you more. Your plump lips had swollen from his being pressed so forcefully against your own, and a singular strand of saliva still connected your lips to his own—one which he would sinfully lick away with a salacious swipe of his tongue.

The hand he used to grab your face gently shook your head back and forth, his sadistic turquoise hues savoring your already fucked-out expression. “There’s the greedy bitch I know and love. Finally decided to show yourself, huh? What? You want more, hm? What about your little boyfriend, princess?”

“R-Rin . . . I love, Ri—” You were cut off when Sae’s expression flared, his hand releasing your face for naught but seconds before connecting with your cheek in a hard slap. You squealed from the impact, your head whipping to the side in shock, but you could not help but feel strangely aroused by the contact. He grabbed your cheeks in his palm once more and tightened his hold on your face, bringing you closer to him until you were nose to nose.

“Don’t lie to me, you little minx.” He snarled as he cut his eyes at you. “You don’t think I’ve noticed the way you’ve been looking at me after all these years, like you wanted me? Or that I haven’t overheard your stupid little conversations about how dreamy you think I am to your friends, huh? Or how about now, when you swear up and down that you love my loser little brother, when here you are already going stupid on me when I’ve barely even touched you?”

You clenched your eyes shut as hot, guilty tears rushed behind your lids. He’s right. You've wanted him—always have—but it was too late now. You were with Rin, and he was the love of your life. You could not possibly change that, could you?

“Just say it, Y/N.” He chided, his voice softer than it was before, yet it still held it’s cold, irritated undertone. “Say you want me, and I’ll make you feel better than that lukewarm little shit ever has.” He released your face and smoothed his thick digits over the top of your head, stopping only when he could rest his fingers beneath your chin and tilt your head to look up at him. Your gaze focused on him once more.

“ . . . I want you, Sae. B-But Rin . . . ”

Sae hushed you again, pressing his lips against yours. How badly he wanted that name to never again be uttered by your lovely tongue. When Sae pulled away again, there was the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“We’ll be quick, okay?” A lie. He was going to take his time fucking his brother’s name out of your memory. “He’ll never suspect a thing.”

Your apprehension was palpable, but ultimately you would succumb to sin and let desire and greed rule over logic and reason. You nodded, giving him the nonverbal go-ahead to stomp on the accelerator and never let up.

“Good girl.” He praised you, both hands abandoning your face to now grip at the collar of your shirt. In one swift motion, he ripped Rin’s jersey clean off of you from down the middle. “About time we got that shit off of you. The sight of it was makin’ me sick.” He spat as he tossed the tattered fabric over his shoulder.

You were not wearing a bra, so the violent motion had your breasts bouncing free after being momentarily released from their confines, allowing them to slap softly against the flesh of your rib cage—much to Sae’s viewing pleasure. You grew sheepish as he seemed to freeze, staring so brazenly at your bare breasts that you began to feel a bit self-conscious. Was something wrong? Did he not like them? Was he expecting more? Less?

In reality, the answer was none of the above. The midfielder swore under his breath as he shoved you back onto Rin's cozy comforter. He hastily climbed on top of you and used his body weight to pin you against the bed as his lustful hands began to grope and knead at your supple flesh, eliciting precious mewls with each delightful squeeze. His lips would latch onto one of your breasts as he dipped his head downward; the thumb and forefinger of his free hand would play with the other, teasing your nipples. His sharp teeth bit greedily over the delicate areola as his tongue flicked and laved over the hardening buds. The stimulation only served to heighten your arousal, as evidenced by the way you wailed his name like a sweet song meant only for his ears and how your thighs squeezed together from your excitement drooling from your folds.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Sae, who was busy alternating between pleasuring both of your breasts and growling under his breath, “Lewd fuckin’ body. S’all mine . . .” When he pulled away, there were visible marks left in his wake—light red splotches and indentations of hungry teeth imprinted on your skin.

He reached for the hem of his compression shirt and lifted it above his head, tossing it off to the side as he sat above you, staring lustfully down at you. He would manhandle you further after sliding off of your body. He pulled your shorts down in one motion, grabbed your thick thighs by the backs of your knees, and pushed them up towards your breasts. When he did, he couldn’t help but whistle, admiring how your puffy folds clung together and your inner thighs remained sticky from your translucent arousal.

“Has he ever made you wet like this?” Sae inquired, leering at you from between your thighs like a hungry lion with it’s eyes set predatorily on a helpless gazelle, to which your gaze would quickly avert. You and Rin had such a strong emotional bond that you never felt the need for frequent sex between you two. There were a few times, though, when Rin would fuck you after a winning game in a way that made you see stars, but those were always very far apart.

Your silence was all Sae needed for his answer. He crept back up onto you, chuckling sardonically as he held your thigh up with one hand, using his body to keep your other spread apart. He wanted to see all of your pretty expressions up close and personal when he ravished you. Swiping two of his fingers between your folds, the sudden motion caused your hips to jerk into his touch and you to keen with need.

Slowly, he inserted a single digit inside of you, hissing at how your walls selfishly gripped his fingers and eagerly tried to devour more of him. “Loosen up, will you, greedy slut?” He slapped your thigh with his other hand as your back arched with pleasure. “This tight pussy will never be able to take my cock at this rate.”

You tried to loosen up, you really did, but there was something so delicious—so tantilizing—about his thick, calloused fingers caressing your velvety walls that made you crave more of him. He continued to thrust his single digit inside of you, his teal oculars peering into your own with such intensity that it forced you to look away.

“Stop that.” His hand that grabbed the back of your knee slithered along your outer thigh until he could grasp your chin and force you to look back at him. “Eyes on me.” He ordered, to which you would nod dumbly amidst your pleasured mewls.

You felt the delightful stretch of another of his thick fingers pressing into your sopping cunt, thrusting in tandem with his previous one, as he leaned closer to you and his lips just barely touched your own.

“S-Sae, mmph, more, please, please, touch me more.” You begged, bringing a sinful smirk to the midfielder’s lips.

Unexpectedly, he would comply with your requests, pressing the pad of his thumb against your throbbing clit and rubbing quick, pleasurable cricles with his fingers as he arduously sought out that sweet, sweet spot inside of you. You could not help but start sobbing his name, his thick fingers filling you to the brim even though he had yet to stuff his cock into you. Each time he curled upward inside of you, his impeccable skill had you gasping for reprieve.

It was nothing like Rin’s. His fingers were slightly thinner than his brother’s, but they were a tad longer too, able to reach the deepest spots within you without even trying. Sae's immense precision and experience, which allowed him to know exactly where your sweetest spots lay within you, made up for his lack of length.

“ . . . Are you seriously thinking about him right now?”

You were startled out of your reverie by his curious tone and thinly veiled anger. You tried to focus on his hardened features through your daze, but you couldn’t. The knot in your tummy tightened, and you felt an enormous wave of pleasure wash over you. Something big was coming, and you could feel it reverberating all throughout your core.

“He could never make you feel this good, could he? Never get this pretty cunt this wet for him, hm?” All throughout his monologue, you could hear the sinful squelching of your juices soaking his palm, dripping down his wrist, and splattering onto the floor. You were a mess beneath him. He would abuse that rough patch just along your upper walls until your toes clung to the sheets in ecstasy.

“M’sorry, m’sorry!” You mewled, breath coming out in short, high-pitched pants as you writhed under him, his pace increasing as he felt your walls fluttering around his fingers.

“Who’s making a mess of you right now? Huh? Speak up, princess; let me hear you say it.”

“—You, Sae! You, you, you! Hah, please, I-I can’t . . . ! I-I’m gonna—”

“Do it. Cum on my fuckin’ fingers. Make a mess for me, pretty.”

You did just that. Your body went rigid for naught but a second before your back was arched into him, and your head tossed itself back into the pillows as a chorus of unabashed wails of your release erupted from your pretty, drooling lips. Your release was immense—loud—as a gushing of juices from your pussy thoroughly drenched the sheets, Sae’s sweatpants, his abs, and his entire forearm.

You squirted. For him. For the first time ever.

It was uncharacteristic how an almost feral grin twisted on Sae’s lips, his fingers removing from your sopping cunt to place a few well-directed slaps on your far too sensitive and overstimulated pussy.

“Atta’ fuckin’ girl. Can’t believe my baby brother was keeping such a sweet little succubus all to himself—selfish bastard.”

You couldn’t even hear him; your chest was rising and falling heavily as tears of pleasure ran down your cheeks (and thighs).

“Hey, hey. You still with me?” His tone was soft, his typically impassive visage now meeting your own with furrowed eyebrows and a tinge of concern behind his bright hues.

You nodded—it was all you could muster at this moment, but it was good enough for Sae. He brought his soaking hand to your parted lips, lightly tapping the digits on your plump flesh in a silent command for you to clean him off. He chuckled. Your lithe tongue and eager brims slurped, licked, and sucked your mess off of his thick fingers that were now shoved down your throat without you even needing to be told what to do.

“You wanna do that again for me? On my cock this time, pretty?”

You were exhausted, your body already aching beneath him, but you still craved more from him. Another meek nod was given, your dazed eyes meeting his only to utter around his fingers, words garbled from his fingers on your tongue, “Wantha’ squirth’ awound ya cahwk.”

That was all Sae needed to hear as he stepped off of the bed, making quick work to discard his soaked sweatpants and boxers into the growing pile of clothes at the base of the bed. His large hands grabbed your soft hips, tugging you toward him with ease as he flipped you onto your hands and knees. He let out a growl, his hand raising to smack your plump ass once, then twice, on both of your cheeks before taking big, greedy handfuls of your flesh into his ravenous palms. This was undoubtedly already his favorite thing about you.

Standing by the edge of the bed, Sae placed your body horizontally across the mattress with your head facing the door. With a forceful push of your face down into the sheets, your view of the room instantly became obscured. You craned your neck back, peering at Sae from over the arch of your back as he grabbed one of your fat cheeks in one hand and used his other to line his cock up with your entrance. He slapped his heavy cock against your folds, his blossoming mushroom tip connecting with your throbbing clit making you both keen with ecstasy.

He couldn’t wait any more. He needed to be inside of you. He entered your drooling cunt with a single, calculated push, and your fluttering walls were already trying to devour more of him in response to the intrusion. Sae groaned as his hips met the flesh of your ass once he was buried to the hilt inside of you. His head lulled back as he dug his blunt nails into your flesh.

For the past three years, this—this right here is exactly what he had been craving, yearning over, and lusting for—and now he had it. He nearly came from the feeling inside of you alone, though; he’d be damned if he let the fun stop there.

A steady pace was quickly established by the midfielder's hips, and his long, deliberate strokes were deep enough to feel in your tummy and cause your toes to curl up in pleasure. Having had such a powerful orgasm not even minutes earlier, you were still fairly sensitive; however, that only made things all the more enjoyable.

“O-Oh my god, y-your cock, it’s t-too much, I-I can’t—”

“Don’t tell me you can’t, you cock-loving slut.” He snapped at you, cutting your pleas short with a sharp thrust of his hips. The rhythmic plapping of your ass against his pelvis resonated off the walls of the bedroom, lewdly ringing in your own ears. “This is everything I—we’ve—been wanting for years. Don’t tell me that now, all of a sudden—” He paused, groaning deeply through gritted teeth as you clenched around him. “—That this pretty pussy can’t take anymore when you’re gripping me so desperately.”

“B-But Sae, i-it feels too good! Like I’m . . . I’m gonna make a mess again!” You whined.

He thought it was adorable that even in the most deplorable and deprived of acts, you still attempted to hold some semblance of modesty. Oh, how you were both far past that.

If anything, that just fueled his aggression. He used your words as justification to pummel your poor pussy harder and faster, putting both of his hands on your hips and lower back and pressing his weight against you to force you into an almost painful arch as his pelvis slammed into your ass. Your vision went blurry from his unforgiving pace, and your throat went raw from your cries and screams of pleasure.

“Who’s making you feel this good, huh?” He grunted in between thrusts, a hand raising to land a furious smack on your ass that caused you to mewl and your tiny fists to grip the sheets.

“Y-You, Sae! You are! Ngh, plea—”

“And who’s cock do you like better, huh, princess? Me or that lukewarm fuckface’s?”

You hesitated, but only for a millisecond, as you felt the blunt head of his cock caressing your sweet spot, pummeling into you over and over as your thighs began to shake, growing unable to hold yourself up from the stimulation. His thrusts faltered as his cock twitched inside of you. You figured he was close too.

“Yours, y-yours! Your cock feels so good, I-I’m gonna cum again! I’m ngh gonna cum all over your f-fuck-ing cock!”

He let out an almost animalistic groan, something between a chuckle and a feral snarl, “Yeah, princess? You really mean it?” He moved one of his hands to your hair, threading his fingers through it without yet pulling, almost as if he were waiting for your response.

Your response was almost instantaneous, and the adorable chorus of incoherent babbles and cries of "yes, yes, yes" left your head spinning. You had the sensation that you might pass out completely.

Your head was abruptly yanked out of the pillows, and your gaze was once again forced upward. Your eyes, albeit blurry and glassy, caught sight of the all-too-familiar figure standing in the doorway. Sweat dribbling from his forehead while dressed in a white windbreaker and sweatpants to protect himself from the elements during his jog, stood the one person who filled you with dread.

Rin.

He was back.

As your eyes locked onto the all-too-memorable teal ones boring into your own, your moans ceased. The logic and reason that you had previously dismissed for giving into your desires came flooding back. Guilt, which had been gnawing at the pit of your stomach, reared it’s ugly head once more.

He caught you.

With his brother.

The realization of your actions, the feeling of knowing that you hurt someone you cared deeply about and promised your life to, left you reeling. The enormity of the situation left you speechless and unable to respond.

As the shock slowly gave way to the depths of your despair, tears welled up in your eyes, this time of anguish. Your ability to control your emotions ran out, and you began to sob, letting the tears run down your cheeks. Each tear that ran free was weighed down by guilt and regret.

All the while, Sae never stopped thrusting behind you. Almost as if he remained unfazed by his brother’s—your boyfriend’s—sudden appearance.

“R-Rin—”

“—Save it.”

His initial shock, disbelief, and hurt gradually gave way to something else. He was angry, searing with anger as malice began to rise within him, a blaze of fury that threatened to consume him. Though he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at . . . Sae?

“You told me you would wait until I got back, Nii-chan.”

The air left your lungs.

. . . What?

Using the grip from your hair, Sae pulled you back into him, pressing your body flush against his own as he craned your neck back into an awkward angle, forcing your gaze to meet his own. A dark and unsettling satisfaction crept into his expression, the corner of his lips tugging into a smirk. His eyes sparkled with a perverse delight, reveling in the twisted pleasure he derived from your adorably bewildered and anguished expression.

Your breath hitched.

Your mind raced for answers.

Sae’s gaze lazily tore from your own and to Rin's, who still remained in the doorway, the forward’s eyes sinfully burning into the way your breasts bounced sinfully from each of Sae’s now slow, agonizing thrusts.

"You know, little brother, it is not too late to join in on the fun."

ⓒ vampiie 2023 — all rights reserved. please do not repost my work outside of tumblr, modify, or translate my work in any form/means. please do not share my work to tiktok or any other site.

if this gets enough attention, i may make a part two!

[f1byjessie]

HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part one.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 2,798 others

yourusername yeehaw (bahrain edition)

view all 934 comments

user the only person more american than logan is his sister

logansargeant imagine spending more time with a horse than your own twin brother

↳ yourusername don't need to bc i did

↳ logansargeant this is the cyber bullying mom warned me about

↳ yourusername do you wanna see bullying? cuz i'll show you bullying

user oh to be a girl at the beach during sunset

INSTAGRAM.

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tagged: logansargeant

yourusername baby's first f1 race! kick some ass logie! 🫶

view all 1,452 comments

logansargeant thank you but we're literally the same age??

↳ yourusername umm i think you're mistaken cuz last i checked i was still a minute older

user LOGIE I'M DECEASED

user y/n giving us the low qual logan content we've been craving

williamsracing Best of luck to Logan! We're happy to have him as part of the team!

user WTF IS A KILOMETERRRRR RAHHHH 🦅🦅🦅

oscarpiastri i don't even wanna know how far back you had to scroll in your gallery to find that last picture

↳ yourusername careful piastri, i have some of you too and i'm not afraid to use them

↳ oscarpiastri noted.

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liked by alex_albon, yourusername, and 107,204 others

tagged: yourusername

logansargeant could've been better, could've been worse, but i couldn't have asked for a better cheerleader this weekend. everyone's jealous they ain't got a sister like mine

view all 2,117 comments

user RAAAAHH!! USA!! USA!! USA!! 🦅💥

alex_albon could really feel the williams love all weekend long 💙

yourusername i mean i GUESS i have to take my job as your sister seriously SOMETIMES

↳ oscarpiastri as opposed to the rest of the time when you're mortal enemies

↳ yourusername i'm glad SOMEONE understands

user am i the only one who didn't know logan had another sibling???

INSTAGRAM.

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f1paddockgossip_official Y/N Sargeant, sister to new Williams driver Logan Sargeant, makes her F1 paddock debut this weekend at the Bahrain Grand Prix! With such a bright demeanor, it was hard to miss her! It's only the first race of the 2023 season, and we hope to be seeing her around more often.

view all 7,538 comments

user THAT'S WHO THAT WAS???

user she's our all american girl and we love her

user nothing more american than twins

↳ user this literally makes no sense?? what??

user FORGET THE DRIVERS I WANNA MEET HER 😍

user becoming a logan fan just for his sister

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yourusername goodbye bahrain, you were a wonderful experience

view all 364 comments

user will you be at the saudi arabian gp???

williamsracing We hope to see you at more races Y/N! Thanks for coming out to support our team! 💙

↳ yourusername of course! i had the time of my life!

user who needs to be a wag when you can just be the sister of a driver and get the same benefits

user is this supposed to be a reference to oscar's post??

↳ user wait omg is it?

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oscarpiastri goodbye bahrain, you were everything.

comments have been disabled

━━ a/n: oh gosh, this is my first time posting anything like this on tumblr so i hope it's good! more to come eventually! still trying to figure out a style, so please excuse any mistakes or discrepancies!

[roturo]

PEACHES - gojo satoru x f!reader.

→ summary: working was always boring for Gojo Satoru, just some boring paperwork, unread emails, and meetings every-day. but his new assistant made his world turn around and make it as sweet as peaches.

→ warnings: smut, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, possesive behavior, teasing, breeding kink, use of nicknames (sweetheart, love, baby....), fluff, playboy!gojo, got the idea and wrote this watching the office, not proof read, office!au, boss!gojo satoru, assistant!reader.

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

New day at the office, a new chance to annoy Nanami.

That's what Gojo Satoru would tell himself everytime he has to go to work. Nothing interesting usually happens there, same old office, boring paper work, and employees to annoy.

Because he wouldn't be working on this office if he wasn't obviously the boss.

Recently he fired the old assistant, some boring and old lady which couldn't even pass the call to him. A 'gift' from the old boss. But guess what? He's the new boss right now.

Your curriculum seemed pretty nice, a young lady, with not much experience which that's a job for him to build, single, not that it matters, and today, actually was your first day.

The office seemed pretty nice, clean, minimal, and the people seemed... nice.

Your desk was pretty long, a computer in the middle of it, some folders, which you suppose is the paper work left undone, office phone and some paper with the numbers to use when sending the call to your new work-mates.

After introducing yourself to everyone, you took a sit. You didn't quite well knew what to do, until the main door opened up, and you saw his black small circular eyes, a small glimpse of really blue eyes, his hair white as snow, he seemed like a really young man, probably two-three years older than you.

¨Oh, nice, you're already here. I'm Gojo Satoru, your new boss.¨

Your legs suddenly reacted and made you stand up from your chair, not even realizing you're now standing infront of him, his presence making you feel small, not only because of his height and broad shoulders, he had this aura of dominance, of a leader. No wonder why he's the boss.

You bowed at him and said your name, trying your best to not seem nervous or like your feeling your voice will crack at any moment. ¨Nice meeting you Mr.Gojo, i'll try my best, i'm sure you'll not be disappointed by choosing me!¨ Half of it you said it on your bow, really fast. Which made Satoru laugh.

¨Satoru love, call me Satoru. I'm pretty sure we're almost the same age, i'm pretty young to be called mister by such a pretty young lady like you for my taste.¨

You nervously giggled, and bowed again, feeling your face hot from embarrassment all you could do was look at the floor and wait for your first work to do.

And to say your boss wouldn't make you work, is a lie.

For the first hour or so, things went pretty fast and rough. You took notes, answered emails, and organized his schedule, all while trying not to make any mistakes. Someway the emails wouldn't stop coming, notes which you were pretty sure were his, but you couldn't dispute your new boss on your first day.

But as the day went on, you couldn't help but notice the way Satoru kept stealing glances at you. At first, you assumed it was just your imagination, but when days started passing, small glances turned into keeping eye contact with a shy smile with him, weeks passed and flirty comments started flying around the two of you, inside jokes, coffees by the morning after knowing his usual take, small accidental touches into giggles and shy apologies.

And to be honest, Satoru put you through so much work not only because he's lazy to do it by himself, but because he loves seeing you running around the office with your small skirts, he loves seeing you flustered by his compliments, loves having your submission.

Two months passed and he started inviting you to dinner after work, maybe some coffee on the weekends here and there, but he was falling for you. You might fell for him first, but he fell harder. But he couldn't let himself admit that.

Something that makes Gojo Satoru the Gojo Satoru is that he's a fucking playboy, can't stay with a girl for more than two weeks, it gets two the point where Nanami and Suguru bet on how much time the new chick will last. But... they didn't know about you! and the secret little dates he took you on, and the little pecks you have him on the cheek that made his heart beat faster and his trousers tighter.

He tried, really tried to forget those silly feelings you put him through, going to bars and finding a new fuck every night, but he knew he had to have you the moment he moaned your name while coming in a random girl mouth.

So that was enough playing around.

But he couldn't just go to your desk, and fuck you there in front of everyone. Which... didn't sound too bad when he's now thinking about it, maybe someday he'll try it with you, but first he had to have you in the nice way.

Leaving roses on your desk every-morning was a cute detail, but he thinks it wasn't enough, why? well because they still seem like doubting about if he's interested in yo or not.

¨Satoru, are you sure you're not in denial?...¨ Suguru asked him, knowing his best-friend like his right hand.

¨I'm not in denial Geto.¨ When Satoru uses his last-name instead of his first name like normal friends do, he knows he's lying, a good way to tell, but not like he's going to tell him.

¨So... I guess you wouldn't mind if I ask her out on a date right?¨

¨Fuck off Suguru.¨

His fantasies about you turned from sweet dreams into waking up at 3 A.M with wet boxers and in need of a jack off. So, now, he had enough.

You were nervous, to say at least. Today all Satoru did was treating you with coldness. Did you do something wrongs? His coffee wasn't sweet enough? And you were even more nervous when at the end of the day he called you to his office and stay for a while.

¨Yes Mr.Gojo?¨

He laughed, ¨How many times have I told you to just call me Satoru sweetheart?¨ he tooks his glasses off, it wasn't the first time you saw him without them, but every-time you looked at those eyes again, it felt like the first time.

¨I'm sorry Mr-... Satoru... Is everything okay? Why am I here?¨

He took a step closer, someway you stayed in your place, slow breathing each step he got closer the more you were anticipating his next move. ¨You don't really see it sweetheart, don't you?¨

¨See wh- mmph~!¨ the rule was broken with the moment of realization there was no coming back after this, had this kiss become even more frantic. You felt giddy kissing Satoru and his sweet lips, this moment was like a dream.

His armed wrapped around your waist, and your naturally wrapped around his neck, his hands went lower and lower until he smacked your ass which made you moaned at the sensation. Your hands sliding down his chest.

You giggled at the sudden action. "I was going to say it hurt, but I actually liked it." which made Satoru's grin even bigger, his cock was hurting by this moment, so many nights thinking about you and he is finally in the moment.

His hands stayed on your arms, kisses now turning into bruises in your neck, moans in to whines. "I want to kiss every inch of you." He mumbled on your neck, while grabbing your thighs and carrying you to sit on his desk.

Unbuttoning your shirt, while maintaining eye contact, his hands caressing every inch of your exposed body, he took your bra off and started sucking on one of your nipples, using his other hand to tease the other, by pinching it with his index and thumb. Switching to the other nipple, making sure both of them would be purple by tomorrow.

His hand sliding down until he got into your thighs, making it's way down your skirt, using his fingers to feel the wetness on your panties, "Look at that. Wet for me already and I've barely done anything." you could hear the sound of him unbuckling his pants, while he was getting naked, you made sure to take off the remaining pieces of yours.

His cock was large. A pretty shade of pink, veins coming down from the tip to his base. Red and needy tip already leaking pre-cum, looking for attention. He positioned himself, sliding his cock up and down between your lips thanks to your wetness. Each time touching your needy clit, making you moan. ¨S...Satoru... stop teasing! a-ah!~¨

“I can’t help myself, you’re just too fun to tease~” You moaned at the sudden intrusion, a small feeling of pain came through your body while adapting to his size. ¨Too.. big 'toru- just too much...¨

He chuckled at how cute you looked trying to fit him. Your tight hole squeezing his cock had him rolling his eyes. ¨You can take it baby, 'm sure you can.¨ He gave you a small peck on your lips, before slowly thrusthing.

¨You f...feel soooo good' sweetheart. Made for me. This pussy was made for me.¨ His thrusts started becoming faster every-time you moaned even louder, tears started filling your eyes, coming down one by one.

¨Make me. nngh! make me yours 'toru.¨

¨You want it princess?, you want my babies? Make you a such and good mommy?¨ Your moans started becoming erratic, way too much for your body. His hands would be buried on your hips by tomorrow.

You felt yourself getting dizzier every-time he hit that spot that made you see stars. ¨You would be such a pretty mommy, all round and full of me. I'll make sure you get pregnant, fucking you everyday...¨

You couldn't take it anymore, his dirty talk made you cum like no other. But he didn't stop, it made him eager to fuck you more. One of his hands positioned in your neck, choking you the right way to make you giddy.

His groans and whines searching for release made you looking for it too. The overstimulation becoming so much for your body. With some more thrusts both of you came at the same time. Satoru stayed a while inside of you, trying to steadying his breathing. He cleaned the both of you with a tissue and dressed you up again. He hugged your exhausted body, kissing your neck and praying how perfect you were.

¨Satoru...?¨

¨Yes sweetheart?¨

¨I get it. And I love you too.¨

[sturniluvr]

FA cup champ

Mason Mount x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: some strong language, maybe some spelling mistakes, nothing other than that, lmk if I missed anything.

requested: yes/no

summary: Y/N surprises Mason at the FA cup final

A/N: shoutout to my fave mase acc on tumblr @mountttmase for convincing me to write this❤️enjoy everyone!🫶🏻

❗️semi proof-read��️

Today was the day, May 25th, FA cup final, Manchester derby. Y/N was nervous to say the least, having grown up a Man United fan, knowing the boys were playing arguably one of the team's biggest rivals made those nerves worse. She wanted nothing more than her club to win, especially for her boyfriend of 3 years, Mason Mount. 

She was currently in the car with Mason’s family on the way to Wembley, next to the Y/H/C woman sat Summer, who was asleep in her car seat and on the other side of the sleeping girl was Jaz, Mase’s older sister and Lewis sat behind the three girls with a sleeping Mila next to him. Y/N felt a tap on her shoulder, she looked behind at Lewis. He leaned forward as much as the seat belt would allow him. 

“Does he know you’re coming?” The older man asked. She shook her head. 

“No, I told him I had to work, but I managed to convince my manager to let me have today off, thought it’d be a nice surprise.” She replied. He nodded his head in agreement and sat back in his seat. 

*little time skip*  

They had arrived at Wembley and Y/N had the job of waking summer up while Jaz quickly changed Mila’s nappy before they all headed into the stadium. 

“Sum, wake up sweetheart. We’re here.” She whispered softly to the little girl and summer stirred in her car seat. She opened her eyes and held her arms out to her auntie. Y/N picked her up out her car seat and rested the girl on her hip until she was more awake and wanted to walk. 

The adults had collectively agreed to get some food first before heading into the stadium since everyone was hungry and they were earlier than expected so they found a little restaurant up the road from the stadium and they made their way to the restaurant and had some delicious food. 

*around 2:30* 

After they finished their food, they made their way back to the stadium and headed up the stairs. As she walked up the stairs to the entrance of the stadium, all she wanted to do was go and wait for Mason to arrive but she had to stop herself so she didn’t ruin the surprise.  

“You excited to see uncle Masey?” Y/N asked summer who was holding her hand. She looked up and nodded enthusiastically with a smile on her face and a skip in her step knowing she was soon going to see her uncle. 

*time skip to kick off* 

She watched as the teams made their way out of the tunnel, she smiled at the sight of her childhood team, on the pitch ready to play and win the FA cup. Y/N and Lewis leaned forward in their seats as the whistle blew for kick off and watched intently. 

30th minute

She cheered with the United fans as Garnacho tapped the ball into the net, scoring the first goal of the match. She certainly started feeling more confident as she watched the reds play with all they could give. 

39th minute

She bit her nails as she watched Bruno beautifully pass to Kobbie and Mainoo kicked it into the back of the net, making the score 2-0 to United before half time, she shot up and cheered once again, feeling pride fill her body at how well her team was doing. 

90+2 minute

She clapped and smiled as Mase made his way onto the pitch being subbed on alongside Lindelof for McTominay and Garnacho. She was silently praying that city wouldn’t not score again and cause the match to go to extra time, she was too nervous for that. Next to the woman, she heard chants of ‘Masey’ coming from Summer. She smiled at the young girl and picked her up and rested her on her hips so that she had a slightly better view of the game. 

*time skip to full time*  

She let out a cheer with and gently jumped up and down with summer still on her hip. Man United had won the FA cup!! She was beaming with pride for Mase and her team, she was so proud of them all.  

She already had tears in her eyes from the sight of Mase lifting the trophy with the biggest grin on his face, reaching from ear to ear and his pearly whites on show, now she was crying even more seeing her team lift the trophy behind the FA cup winner banner and confetti and champagne covering them all head to toe. She physically couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. She put summer down and quickly wiped her eyes before they headed down to the pitch, she could finally see her boy and tell him just how proud she was.  

*on the pitch*  

The players had now spread out across the pitch heading to their respective families and friends. Her Y/E/C eyes landed on the love of her life, who she’d been dying to see all day. Before anyone could catch her, summer bolted towards her uncle Masey.  

“MASEY!” Summer screamed out as she ran towards him. He turned around and smiled at the sight of his niece, he opened his arms and picked her up and spun her around before sitting her on his hip. 

“Hey sweetheart, you okay?” Mason spoke softly to her. Summer nodded and smiled at him.  

Y/N stayed behind slightly to give Mason a moment with his family. She watched with a soft smile as Mason passed Summer over to Jaz so he could hug everyone else.

“There’s someone here darling.” Debbie whispered in his ear as she hugged him. The 25 year old looked around and his brown eyes locked with the Y/E/C he fell in love with 3 years ago. He made a beeline for his girl and wrapped his arms around Y/N’s torso and lifted her off the ground, she instantly wrapped her arms around his neck, placing kisses all over his face, the last one being his lips, he deepened the kiss ever so slightly and his hands made home on her hips. 

She looked up at him with a breathtaking smile, one that he immediately reciprocated. 

“I’m so fucking proud of you mase!” The woman exclaimed. He pulled her back in for another hug. One hand cupping the back of her head and the other resting on her back, he rested his head in the crook of her neck, planting sporadic kisses to her neck.  

“Thank you, baby. I’m so glad we won!” He replied, voice slightly watery with emotion. 

He lifted his head up to look at the love of his life and he smiled at her before placing a final kiss on his favourite pair of lips. It finally set in that his girl was here and not at work like she said she would be today. He looked down at Y/N and squeezed her waist slightly. 

“I thought you had work anyway cheeky. I thought your asshole of a manager wouldn’t give you the day off?” He spoke with a confused tone, Y/N let out a little laugh at the sight of her boyfriend looking like a confused puppy. 

“I managed to convince him to give me the day off, so I thought I’d surprise you.” she replied, smiling up at her winner. 

“Cheeky.” Mase chuckled, slapping her butt gently. “But thank you darling, it means the world to me for you to be here with my family” he added on, still smiling, his cheeks had started to hurt from all the smiling he’d done in the last hour. 

Interrupting their moment, Rasmus ran over to the couple, he gave Y/N a quick hug as the older woman congratulated him. 

“We gotta get going to the after party soon mase, you coming Y/N/N?” The younger man spoke with excitement in his voice.  

“Mase we gotta get to Monaco for the Grand Prix.” she spoke looking between the two footballers.  

“Love, the race isn’t until 3 we’ll be able to fly tomorrow morning and make it for the race.” Mason reassured the woman.  

“Come on Y/N let’s have a party!” Rasmus spoke in a sing song tone causing her to laugh at him. 

“What do you say baby?” Mase looked at the girl for confirmation, she threw her head back dramatically sighing.  

“Fuck it, why not.” She replied laughing as the boys cheered and wrapped their arms around her shoulders. 

“Jaz, Lew, you coming to the after party?” The siblings nodded almost immediately.  

“Mum? Dad? You coming?” Jaz looked between her parents. 

“No it’s okay, we’ll get the girls home and in bed, you kids go have fun!” Tony replied, smiling at the younger adults. Jaz passed summer to Debbie and Tony already had Mila in his arms, they left with the young girls, and the adults all made travel arrangements to get to the after party. Y/N, Lewis and Jaz got an uber and Mason and Rasmus made their way to the party on the team coach.  

They all danced the entire night. Y/N and Mason being slightly more conscious with drinking than Rasmus as they had to travel the next morning. They all laughed at Rasmus singing Abba. Y/N made a mental note to message the younger man in the morning to see how he was feeling knowing he’d he hungover. 

[genshinluvr]

Prisoner of the Mind

Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You couldn't join March, Mr. Yang, Dan Heng, and Caelus on their trip to Jarilo-VI after Gepard and Sampo informed them of an issue in Belobog. The Astral Express is under attack, putting you and Pom-Pom in a dangerous situation, leading to you sacrificing yourself to save the train's conductor. Needless to say, the Aeon of Destruction was not too pleased about it.

Note: I have officially written the first hurt/comfort fic for the HSR one-shot series! I hope you all like this fic because I enjoyed typing it out, and it got me tearing up a little, not gonna lie! I have officially made a taglist for my Honkai Star Rail fics and series! It will be linked down below for those who want to be tagged in future fics (and along with past fics if you choose that option) ^^ Man, now I have to start planning this upcoming week's fic. I wonder what it will be 🤔 I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Reader gets attacked, mentions of blood

Word Count: 7.4k

Mr. Yang, March, Caelus, and Dan Heng is off the Astral Express, leaving you with Himeko and Pom-Pom. You usually tag along with them when they go trailblazing or when they’re exploring other ships and planets. But unfortunately, you can’t tag along with them this time because they’re going on a dangerous mission, and having you tag along with them can put your safety at risk. You didn’t want to get in their way by getting hurt or putting a target on your back just by being there. Actually, that was a lie because you offered to tag along with them, and they didn’t want you to go with them.

“There’s nothing to worry about, [Y/N],” Himeko says, ruffling your hair.

You sigh and lean back on the chair, looking out the window of the Astral Express. The stars are shining, and Jarlio-VI looks the same as it has always been. Iced over and devoid of life. There’s something nagging at you, but you can’t put your finger on it. It doesn’t feel pleasant, and you’re constantly looking out the window to see what’s going on, even though you can’t see what’s going on down there on Jarlio-VI.

A few days ago, while traversing through space in the Astral Express, Caelus received a text from Gepard and Sampo. Something was going on in Belobog, and they needed help as soon as possible. You offered to tag along, but of course, your offer was shot down almost immediately by the three men.

“You’re not going with us,” Mr. Yang states, crossing his arms over his chest.

Your eyes widen with disbelief. “What?! Why not? This isn’t the first time I’m tagging along with you guys!” You exclaimed, frowning at the older man.

Mr. Yang looks at Caelus, Dan Heng, and March as if he’s asking them to help him. The three stare in return before looking at you. You had this big frown on your face, and your eyebrows were furrowed with confusion and maybe anger. You were more confused than angry because why would you get upset over them not wanting you to tag along? 

Dan Heng sighs. “Caelus received a text from Sampo and Gepard about the situation in Belobog. It won’t be safe if you come with us,” Dan Heng says.

You opened your mouth to retort but only to let out an apprehensive sigh. Caelus walks to you, grabs you by the shoulders, and gazes into your eyes while squatting down to your eye level. You turned your head to avoid his eyes, but Caelus grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

Caelus sighs and gives you a weak smile. “I know you want to come along with us, but we can’t have you come with us for your safety. The situation in Belobog is a safety risk for you, and we don’t want you to get hurt or caught in the middle of it all,” Caelus says.

How was it a safety risk for you when it’s also a safety risk for them? The only thing that’s different between you and them is that they have weapons, and you don’t. And you’re not from their world, but you’ve been adjusting to their universe just fine! With the help of your dear friends from the Astral Express, Xianzhou Luofu, and Jarilo-VI, you’re doing great at getting used to your new environments.

Caelus continues to stare at you with his honey-gold eyes. You sigh and close your eyes, turning your head away from Caelus. Caelus frowns and releases your chin from his grasp, turning to look at March, Mr. Yang, and Dan Heng helplessly. March clears her throat, approaching you and Caelus with a faint smile. 

“Oh, cheer up, [Y/N]! I know you want to tag along with us, but maybe you can stay back on the Astral Express just this once! Plus, it’s going to be somewhere freezing in Jarilo-VI, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to be somewhere freezing while the four of us are out and about!” March says, propping her hands on her hips.

Damn, March isn’t wrong about that. You’re not a huge fan of the weather on Jarilo-VI, and standing in the blizzard while March, Dan Heng, Mr. Yang, and Caelus help Gepard and Sampo with the problems in Belobog is something you don’t want to do. An idea suddenly pops up in your head, and your eyes brighten. Since it’s Sampo and Gepard that contacted Caelus about the problem, you might as well hang out with Luka at Boulder Town Super League while they’re dealing with the situation.

You clear your throat. “Since the four of you, along with Sampo and Gepard, are going to be busy, can I hang out with Luka at the Boulder Town Super League?” You ask, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Mr. Yang gives you a sympathetic smile and chuckles. “Sweetheart, Luka is going to be coming along with us as well. While we don’t have his phone number like you, Sampo mentioned bringing a friend with him for this situation,” said Mr. Yang. 

March, Dan Heng, and Caelus’ heads snap toward Mr. Yang’s direction after hearing Mr. Yang’s slip up. Mr. Yang didn’t seem to notice it, and neither have you. Instead of throwing a fit or insisting that you tag along with them, you sighed in defeat and nodded. It looks like your chances of visiting Jarilo-VI are nonexistent at this point. 

Caelus looks at Dan Heng, mouthing, ‘Sweetheart?’ only to earn a shrug from the black-haired man. Caelus clears his throat and nods. “Right, uh, Sampo mentioned a friend he’s bringing with him. As much as we would love to bring you along, we don’t want to give you a babysitter. Remember what happened last time?” Caelus asked, raising his eyebrows at you. 

You pursed your lips and rocked back and forth on the balls of your feet. Of course, you remembered what happened the last time you were assigned a babysitter. You got a golf ball-sized bump on your face with a bruise accompanying the bump. It wasn’t pretty, but you certainly met someone pretty that day. That person happened to be the friend of Sampo Koski himself, who is tagging along with your Astral Express and Belobog friends to the site of the issue. 

“That’s beside the point. As harsh as it sounds, you’re not leaving the Astral Express. You can join us when we’re heading to the Xianzhou Luofu, alright?” Dan Heng said.

You nodded glumly. You can’t help but feel like you’re being grounded for something you didn’t do. But you will do as they say and stay on the train. March ruffled your hair before draping her arms over your shoulders, pulling you in for a hug.

You hugged March tightly. “When are you guys leaving?” You ask, peeking from March’s shoulders. 

Mr. Yang replied almost immediately after you asked, “The Astral Express is heading there right now.”

“And how long will you five be gone for?” You ask.

“We don’t know how long we’ll be on Jarilo-VI. It can be a few days, a few hours, or longer than that, depending on the situation,” replied Dan Heng.

You frowned and pulled away from the hug, and sighed. There’s not much for you to do now. All you could do was hope for the best and that everyone involved came out unscathed and safe.

The conversation you had with your traveling companions was a few days ago, and they have yet to return to the Astral Express. You’re on edge and constantly check your phone to make sure they’re okay and alive. Luckily, they respond to your messages fast in the Astral Express group chat. The only time they won’t respond to your message is when they’re in the middle of something they can’t disclose. Of course, they let you know that ahead of time. And now you’re here, sitting on the Astral Express, looking out the window with zero interest.

Himeko sighs. “If you need anything, I’ll be in my cabin, alright? Feel free to stop by,” says Himeko, smiling at you before walking off after you nod.

Once you’re finally alone, you tilt your head back and close your eyes. No matter how many times you zoned out, time seems to be going slower than it is. You crack your eyes open and check your phone for the umpteenth time, only to see no notifications. Not even from Blade, Luocha, or Jing Yuan. Everyone is busy but you. Maybe a nap will take your mind off what’s going on, and maybe Nanook can keep you company.

After arriving at your bedroom, you plug your phone into the charger before collapsing on your bed and closing your eyes. You blindly reach for the lamp on your nightstand and switch the light off. Exhaustion soon overcomes you, your eyelids feel heavy, and you slowly drift to sleep. You didn’t know how long you were asleep, but when you woke up, everything was pitch black. 

You’re miffed that you didn’t see Nanook. You weren’t sure if Nanook was busy, but whenever you go to sleep, you always see Nanook. You didn’t think you did anything to make him upset, plus none of you have gotten off on the wrong foot. Something was wrong, and you don’t know what it is. You reach for the nightstand to turn the lights on, but it doesn’t turn on. You flip the switch repeatedly, but the room remains pitch-dark.

“Dammit. Is the lamp dead?” You sit up and blindly search for your phone in the darkness of your room. You turn your phone on to see that you got a message from Himeko.

1 Message from Himeko („• ֊ •„)

Himeko: “Hey, sleepy head! I got an urgent message from the gang, and they needed my assistance. Sorry to leave the Express without informing you about it. Remember to stay on the ship and do not leave! See you soon!”

You stare at the message that was sent forty-five minutes ago. You’re not sure if you should respond to Himeko’s message. But you didn’t want to leave her on read, so you typed out a message to the redhead.

Y/N: “Urgent message? Are they okay? I didn’t get a notification about it in the group chat…. Did they send the message to you separately?”

Message failed to send.

You furrow your eyebrows. That’s strange.

Y/N: “Himeko?”

Message failed to send.

You kick your blankets off your legs and run to the door. You swing the door open and freeze when you’re met with nothing but darkness. The only source of light was the starry skies shining from the window of the Astral Express. You clutch on your phone tightly, stepping into the pitch-black hallways, swallowing your fears. You turn your phone flashlight, shining it into the darkness that is the Astral Express. Is there a power outage? What happened to Pom-Pom? The thought of Pom-Pom hiding somewhere in the train makes you sprint out of the Passenger Cabins to the Parlor Car, mentally praying to yourself that Pom-Pom is at least safe.

The door to the Parlor Car slams open, and you run into the darkness, shining your phone flashlight while searching for the conductor. Despite there being windows in the train, it doesn’t make the train any brighter. You can’t hear anything else other than blood pounding in your ears. The silence is deafening.

You whimper out, “Pom-Pom? Are you there?”

You’re met with silence. Not even a peep from the conductor of the Astral Express. You hear something shuffling behind you, causing you to snap your head in the direction of the sound. There, hiding behind the chair, is Pom-Pom. Pom-Pom peeks from the chair, shivering with fear.

You sigh in relief. “There you are, Pom-Pom! I was so worried about you!” You said, jogging toward Pom-Pom.

Pom-Pom’s eyes widen, pointing behind you. “Watch out!” Pom-Pom shrieks.

Without thinking, you dive to the ground. You roll over to your knees and turn to look at the thing Pom-Pom pointed at. Right behind you was the Voidranger Reaver, preparing to strike again. You gulp and slowly take a step back, grabbing onto Pom-Pom and pulling the conductor into your arms. There’s no way you and Pom-Pom will be able to escape without getting a couple of cuts. 

There are so many questions you want to ask Pom-Pom, but your mind is racing and is all over the place. Your main objective is to try to escape with Pom-Pom and seek help. The Astral Express is no longer safe for you and Pom-Pom. Who knows what else is going to show up on the train. 

“Help is on the way! I managed to send out an SOS signal to Himeko and Welt. They should be back soon,” Pom-Pom says, tugging on your shirt.

“How soon?” You whisper, eyes scanning the darkness, searching for an exit. 

You’re fucked. You and Pom-Pom are doomed. There’s no escape. There’s no way for you to escape, and you’re fucking terrified. You want to cry. You’re shaking, but you’re trying your best to put on a brave face, but you’re not sure how long it’ll last. Whatever Pom-Pom was saying, it went in one ear and out the other. You grit your teeth, hugging Pom-Pom tightly to your chest before sprinting past the Voidranger Reaver.

The only safe place is your bedroom. You’re not sure if your bedroom door will be able to hold the Voidranger Reaver back. You’re not skilled in any weapon, it’s dark, and you don’t think Himeko and Mr. Yang will make it on time before something happens. You’re fucked. You’re fucked. You run to the Passenger Cabin, hearing the Voidranger Reaver sprinting after you.

You’re so close to your room. So close. You’re so close. Your feet hit the ground, Pom-Pom whimpering in fear, and the vicious growls from the Voidranger Reaver ring in your ears. 

You’re so close to your bedroom. Before you can reach your bedroom, you come to a complete stop, beads of sweat forming on your forehead. Two more Voidranger Reavers step out from the shadows, ready to attack you and Pom-Pom. 

“[Y/N]....” Pom-Pom whimpers, tugging on your shirt.

You pat Pom-Pom’s back with shaky hands. “We’ll be okay, Pom-Pom. I promise,” you whisper. An idea pops up in your head. “Please forgive me, Conductor.”

“H-Hey! Why are you apologizing?!” Pom-Pom exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes.

You didn’t respond. You lift Pom-Pom and throw him over the two Voidranger Reavers and toward your bedroom. When Pom-Pom lands on the floor of your room, the three Voidranger Reavers start attacking you. Slicing your body to shreds. The sounds of your scream echo throughout the pitch-black train.

Your vision blurs, blood pours from every cut on your body, your ears ring, and your legs give out from underneath you. The last thing you see before darkness consumes your vision is the lights turning on in the Astral Express.

Nothing can prepare Welt, Himeko, Caelus, March, and Dan Heng when they arrive at the Astral Express. Sampo, Luka, and Gepard offered to come and help after the five Astral Express crew members were able to help the trio with the issue on Belobog. The Astral Express was under attack by a couple of Voidranger Reavers, but luckily it was only a small number. However, they weren’t prepared to see the damages the Voidranger Reavers caused when they stepped onto the Astral Express.

Furniture was thrown around, and objects were thrown around and askew. There were no signs of Pom-Pom on board, and there were no signs of you in the Parlor Car. Everyone was hoping you and Pom-Pom were safe somewhere on the Astral Express, but the moment they stepped into the Passenger Cabin, time seemed to have stood still from there.

You were lying lifeless on the ground while three Voidranger Reavers continuously slashed your body. Blood pooled from beneath you, painting the floors crimson red as the smell of copper filled the air. The door to your bedroom is wide open, letting the others get a glimpse of the shaking and sobbing train conductor. Dan Heng was the first to attack the Voidranger Reavers, and others soon followed after. 

Once the three Voidranger Reavers were defeated and they all evaporated into thin air, Welt was immediately by your side, pressing his hand against your neck. There’s a pulse, but it’s faint. So faint that he can barely feel it with his gloves on— making him take his glove off and place his index and middle fingers on your neck to the side of your windpipe.

“Someone, contact the Xianzhou Luofu. We need all of the help we can get,” Caelus barks, covering your shredded and bleeding body with his jacket, attempting to stop the bleeding.

Caelus, Welt, and Dan Heng carefully lift you from the ground. March rushes over to a sobbing Pom-Pom, comforting the train conductor while rushing Pom-Pom out of the Passenger Cabin. Gepard, Sampo, and Luka look at one another, not saying a word.

Sampo runs his trembling hands through his hair. “They’re not going to die, are they? Please tell me they’ll be okay,” Sampo whispers, biting on his bottom lip.

“They’ll be okay. They have to be! There’s no way any of us will let them slip from our fingers,” Gepard replies, his hands shaking.

“How can you be so sure? [Y/N] lost so much blood! The floors are literally painted with their blood,” Luka mutters, his eyes never leaving the pool of blood on the once pristine floors of the Astral Express.

The only thing they can do is wait to arrive. While Dan Heng, Welt, and Caelus are trying to put pressure on your wounds to stop the bleeding, Himeko struts through the hallways of the Astral Express with Jing Yuan, Luocha, and Blade following close behind. While Himeko mainly contacted Luocha about the situation, Luocha was quick to inform Jing Yuan and Blade of the state you’re in. 

“Hand them to me,” Luocha states, holding his arms out.

Welt, Dan Heng, and Caelus carefully lower your body in Luocha’s arms before watching the blond man disappear to your bedroom to tend your wounds. Jing Yuan and Blade stare at the bloodied floor. There were bloody handprints on the walls and floors of the Astral Express. You tried to put up a fight, but you were outnumbered and were brutally injured by the Voidrangers Reavers. 

Jing Yuan sighs, rubbing his temples. “How did this happen?”

Blade chuckles humorlessly. “And I thought the Astral Express was safe for [Y/N] to stay at, but I was wrong,” Blade mutters.

“I understand we’re all tensed and worried about [Y/N], but now is not the time to start an argument. I don’t care who you are or what you mean to [Y/N]. They’re in their room, fighting for  their life right now, and you think it’s a good time to start something?” Gepard demands, glaring at the long, dark-haired man before him.

Blade’s red eyes flicker to Gepard’s face, staring at the Captain of the Silvermane Guards wordlessly. Blade clenches his jaws, walking over to the closed door of your room. He leans against the wall, closing his eyes, trying to listen to any sound that comes from your room. He hears nothing. 

“Cheer up, everyone! On the bright side, Mr. Yang was able to feel a pulse. The downside is waiting for them to recover,” Sampo says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Luka sighs, closing his eyes. “While we wait for Luocha to treat [Y/N]’s injuries, we should organize and clean up the Astral Express while we wait,” Luka comments.

Everyone was reluctant to leave the Passenger Cabin to organize the furniture of the Parlor Car. The Parlor Car took less damage and wasn’t nearly as horrendous as the Passenger Cabin. Pom-Pom had a hard time trying to resume his duties as the conductor of the Astral Express. All Pom-Pom wanted to do was to check and see if you were okay. Still, the others prevented him from entering the Passenger Cabin because the Passenger Cabin was going under a deep clean.

“[Y/N] will be okay, Pom-Pom. You have nothing to worry about. Luocha is tending [Y/N]’s wounds right now, and he should be finished soon,” Jing Yuan reassures Pom-Pom.

Pom-Pom sniffles, blinking at the General while his bottom lips tremble. The others don’t know what else to say to console the conductor. Pom-Pom witnessed you get attacked mercilessly. You willingly sacrifice yourself to make sure Pom-Pom is safe and out of harm’s way. While scared shitless and fearing for your life, you put someone else before you because you would rather take the hit than have someone take the hit for you.

“I’m going to make sure there aren’t any breaches on the train,” Blade mutters, walking away from the group.

After what feels like days, Luocha steps into the Parlor Car, looking visibly relieved. Everyone immediately stands up, walking to the blond man. Luocha rubs his temples, letting out a deep breath. 

“After five hours of treating [Y/N]’s injuries, [Y/N] is now in a stable condition. If any of you are going to stop by and make sure they’re okay, please keep your voices down while they rest,” Luocha instructs.

Luocha turns around and walks to your bedroom, with everyone following. The Passenger Cabin is clean, and there aren’t any traces of your blood left behind. The smell of cleaning solution and air freshener wafts through the air, drowning the smell of your blood that barely lingers in the air. Luocha grabs the handle to your room and slides the door open. One by one, each person steps into your dimly lit bedroom. You lay on your bed, sound asleep. Bandages wrap around your body from the neck down, while small bandaids patch up the smallest cuts on your face.

“How long will it take for them to recover?” Sampo whispers, turning to look at Luocha.

Luocha shrugs, sighing. “That’s the issue. I don’t know how long it’ll take for them to recover. [Y/N] is in stable conditions, but now it’s up to them on when they will regain their consciousness,” Luocha replies. 

Gepard takes a step toward your bed, grabbing your frail hands and brushing his thumb over the bandages wrapped around your hands. To any other person, you look like you’re asleep, dreaming about anything. But to the others, it seems like you’re lying on your deathbed with one foot in the grave. It’s terrifying. To see you in such a state scares everyone. 

Gepard clears his throat. “And you said they’re in stable condition, correct?” Gepard asks, keeping his eyes on you.

Luka clears his throat. “I believe Luocha mentioned that a few times already, Gepard,” Luka comments, approaching the blond man and standing by his side.

Poor sweet Gepard. The once cool, calm, and collected Captain of the Silvermane Guard has a hard time trying to digest the image before him. Gepard is trying everything in his power not to break down in tears in front of everyone around him. You almost died. You were standing in front of death’s doorsteps, ready to walk through the doors, leaving him and the others for good.

But you didn’t walk through those doors. Luocha managed to heal you and patch your wounds, preventing you from taking your last breath.

Jing Yuan sits at the edge of your bed, tucking you in your bed and brushing your hair away from your face. Jing Yuan sighs, caressing your cheek. “What horrors did you face before your unfortunate fate?” Jing Yuan whispers, scanning your unconscious face.

Everyone remains silent in your room, staring at your unconscious body. Welt, Dan Heng, and Caelus can’t help but drown in guilt. You wanted to join them, and they wouldn’t let you tag along with them due to safety concerns. But look where that landed you in. You’re injured, you were so close to death, but Luocha was able to save you and prevent that from happening.

Everyone starts to slowly and reluctantly leave your bedroom. Before they leave, they would squeeze your unconscious hand and whisper apologies for not arriving on time and for failing to protect you. Everyone is ridden with guilt. Soon enough, you’re left alone in the comfort of your bedroom.  

You jerk up with a gasp, only to find yourself in someone’s muscular arms. You look up to see Nanook. The Aeon stares down at you while cradling you in his arms. You blink at him and rub your eyes sleepily, looking around the void. You freeze when you realize you’re not your regular height. You’re almost the same height as Nanook. You and Nanook are covering the sun and the sky. 

Nanook tucks your hair behind your ears, kissing the shell of your ears, sighing. “How are you feeling, little one?” Nanook whispers.

“I’m tired, but I’m also confused,” you murmur, closing your eyes.

You and Nanook sit in silence. Nanook runs his fingers through your hair, rubbing your back and holding you close to his chest. There’s no space between you two, but you didn’t mind it. It feels nice to be in someone’s arms. It feels nice to be held. You’ve been yearning for someone to touch and hold you. You can’t help but notice your entire body feels tingly. You shift around in Nanook’s arms, opening your eyes to look down at your body. When you did that, you let out a choked gasp and jolted in Nanook’s grasp, startling the Aeon of Destruction.

You hold out your arm, looking up at Nanook. “Nanook... What’s going on!?” You whisper.

There are stars decorating your skin from head to toe. The stars glitter on your skin like diamonds and precious gems. It’s all over your body, and you don’t know what to do, nor do you know how it got there. You try to wipe it off your skin, only for it not to budge. It’s like you have an entire galaxy scattering across your body.

Nanook grabs your chin and tilts your head up. “The stars are healing you, little one. You were gravely injured back on the train. I couldn’t bear to see you suffer,” Nanook whispers.

You swallow the lump in your throat. The Astral Express. The attack. Pom-Pom. You sacrifice yourself to save Pom-Pom. All of it happened so fast that you could barely process the thought of it. Wait a minute, you’re not dead, are you? Sure, Nanook said the stars are healing you, but what about your physical body outside of your mind? Outside of the void?

“I’m not dead, am I?” You whisper.

Nanook snorts, shaking his head. “No, sweetheart. You’re not dead, little one. Your physical body is currently recovering. That blond man was able to heal your injured body,” Nanook says, kissing your forehead.

You close your eyes, sighing in relief. You’re so glad you’re not dead. 

“Besides, I wouldn’t let you die. Not on my watch,” Nanook mutters.

You smile, wrapping your arms around Nanook’s torso and sighing with contentment. It’s just you and Nanook in the void. No dangers lurking in the corner, no one to bother you. It’s just you and Nanook surrounded by the glittering stars of the abyss, enjoying each other’s presence in silence. 

While you’re with Nanook, your physical body has healed back to its original form before the attack. No scars are left on your body, and there are no bruises and small cuts. You look good as new. Luocha did a fantastic job at healing your body, and he would like to pat himself on the back for that. Despite your body being fully healed and in perfect condition, you did not wake up.

You’re still unconscious, but it’s like you’re sleeping instead of being in a coma. You move around in your sleep and react to the sounds around you, but you have yet to open your eyes since the attack. 

“I thought they would regain their consciousness by now,” Blade mutters, sitting at the end of your bed while staring at your unconscious body.

Luocha sighs, getting up from your bed and crossing his arms over his chest. “While [Y/N] is physically healed of their injuries, it’s up to them to decide when to wake up from their unconsciousness,” says Luocha.

“But it's been days since the attack! How much longer are they going to be unconscious? Are you sure [Y/N]’s okay?” Sampo asks, looking at Luocha pleadingly. 

Yes, it’s been days since the incident, and there are no signs of you waking up any time soon. Yes, you react to the noises around you, and yes, you’re physically okay and have healed from your injuries, but you’re still not awake. March wanted to make sure you didn’t wake up and then go back to sleep to play tricks on everyone, so she would check up on you every other hour (if she wasn’t asleep).

Everyone has decided to stop by your room to visit you every day, making sure you’re still breathing. Luocha even took that chance to make sure there weren’t any internal injuries or bleeding, and thankfully, there were none. You’re physically okay, but mentally…. They’re not sure about that.

“They must’ve been so scared in their final moments,” March whispers.

Caelus gives March a look. “March, why are you putting it that way? It’s like you’re implying [Y/N]’s dead!” Caelus scolds the pink-haired girl.

March huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, it’s been days since we last saw [Y/N] open their eyes! Not being able to text them, talk to them, hang out with them feels like an eternity!” March exclaims.

While unconscious, you still managed to pick up every noise around you. You flinch and whimper in your unconscious state, eyebrows furrowing. Mr. Yang looks at March and Caelus, shaking his head with disapproval.

“March, I understand you miss them, but you need to remember that we can’t control when they can regain consciousness,” says Mr. Yang.

Dan Heng pinches the bridge of his nose before approaching your bed. He sits at the edge of your bed and stares at your unconscious face. The longer Dan Heng stares at your face, the more he realizes something is off.

“What’s that?” Dan Heng asks.

Gepard walks over to where Dan Heng is standing, watching the black-haired man gently grab your face and tilt your head to the side. The others crowd behind Dan Heng and Gepard, staring at your face while trying to see what Dan Heng is looking at. If anyone were to blink, they would’ve missed it because it was quick to appear and disappear. 

Gold runs through your veins across your face. The pattern reminds them of thunder. It starts at the base of your neck, slithering up and across your face before disappearing. Gepard gently nudges Dan Heng to caress your head. Gepard pulls your eyelids up, and alas, the color of your eyes changes from your original eye color to gold.

“Could it be….?” Gepard trails off, furrowing his eyebrows with concentration.

Gepard blinks, and your eyes return to their original color. Blade turns to look at the other men, his chest puffing with anger while gritting his teeth. He clenches his hands into tight fists until they turn white underneath his gloves. 

“Is it possible for Nanook, the Aeon of Destruction, to hold [Y/N] as a prisoner in their mind?” Blade asks.

Jing Yuan chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We can’t be certain that Nanook is holding [Y/N] a prisoner in their mind. It’s possible that the Aeon is doing that, but [Y/N] sustained many injuries, and it’s possible their body is keeping them in a comatose state for them to fully heal mentally and physically,” Jing Yuan explains.

Luka hums, shrugging his shoulders. While Luka may have known you for a short time compared to the other men, he doubts Nanook is going to harm you. Before meeting you, Sampo and Gepard would describe you as “Nanook’s chosen one��� to Luka. It’s a ridiculous title, but it’s the best they can do to describe how important you are to Nanook. They would praise your beauty and mention the strong connection they feel to you when they’re with you and when they meet you for the first time.

“What if Nanook is keeping [Y/N] asleep because he’s worried about their safety? Like Blade said, it’s possible for Nanook to keep them as a prisoner. I don’t think prisoner isn’t the best way to describe the situation, but Nanook has never hurt [Y/N], has he?” Luka asks, turning to look at the eight men.

Mr. Yang sighs, shaking his head. “[Y/N] never mentioned anything about Nanook hurting them in any way. The only thing we know is that Nanook is very fond of [Y/N], hence why they’re in our world in the first place. Nanook would communicate with [Y/N] through their dreams every time they fall asleep,” Mr. Yang explains, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

While the men are discussing the situation and what they all have witnessed, in your unconscious mind, you’re lying against Nanook. You don’t know how long you’ve been with Nanook, but you like the peace and quiet. While you love being in the void with Nanook, basking in his presence, light touches, and affections, you can’t help but find the void a little bit dull and boring.

How does Nanook deal with this alone? Maybe Nanook is used to it because he’s been around for thousands of years compared to you, a newcomer. You move away from Nanook, grabbing the Aeon’s attention. You sigh, looking around at the sparkling stars in the night sky. Nanook peeks at you, gazing at you worriedly when you let out an apprehensive sigh. Nanook wraps his arms around your waist, pressing his bare chest against your back.

Nanook presses his lips against the shell of your ear. “What’s wrong? Why are you sighing like that?” Nanook murmurs, massaging your hip bones while resting his chin on your shoulders.

How do you tell Nanook that you know he’s keeping you in your “dreams” for a long time? You tried to wake up, but you can’t. You have tried many methods of trying to wake yourself up from this never-ending dream, only to fail in the end. You love being with Nanook, and you don’t mind being in the void with the Aeon, but you can’t possibly stay here forever, can you?

“I know you’re keeping me here, and you’re not letting me leave,” you said hesitantly.

Crap that sounds bad. You didn’t mean for it to come out that way. Think, [Y/N], think! You turn to look at the Aeon of Destruction, who gazes at you blankly. Even though Nanook is gazing at you emotionlessly, you can’t help but feel intimidated by the look he’s giving you. You gulp and grab Nanook’s hands, squeezing them.

You smile at him. “I’m not upset with you for wanting to keep me here. I want to know why you’re keeping me here and refusing to let me wake up,” you murmur.

Nanook sighs, releasing your hand before backing away from you. You let your hands fall to your side as you watch him grow in size. It took you a few seconds to realize you’re back to your original size, and Nanook is now towering over you, still covering the sun and the sky. Fuck, Nanook is not upset with you, is he?

“That is none of your concern, little one,” Nanook states, crossing his arms over his chest.

You frown. “It is very much my business, Nanook. You’re keeping me here with you when my physical body is lying on my bed, unconscious, while my friends are probably wondering why I’m still not awake!” You exclaim.

You wince when your voice echoes in the abyss. Nanook stares at you with a deep frown. You sigh, turning away from Nanook and walking away. You didn’t get far. A hand grabs your wrist, turning you around to face the hand that belongs to a certain Aeon. Nanook, now standing before you, is frowning at you. While he’s the size of a regular person, he continues to tower over you like the men you call your very friends. You assume Nanook is the same height as Jing Yuan but maybe slightly taller than the white-haired General of the Xianzhou Luofu.

“Your friends failed to keep you safe. They left you alone on that train, and what happened? The Astral Express was under attack, and it nearly cost your life!” Nanook growls. “You’re safer here with me than you are with them! Why should I trust them to be around you when they failed at something they were supposed to do in the first place?!”

Tears blur your vision, and you look away from Nanook. Nanook sighs and caresses your face, wiping the tears that slowly make their way down your cheeks. He pulls you into his arms, wrapping both arms around your shoulders while caressing the back of your head and kissing your forehead. You wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into his chest.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice at you, my precious gem. Witnessing you getting attacked and not being able to do something about it hurts me deeply. I thought I could trust your traveling companions to protect you, but I was wrong,” Nanook murmurs. 

You tighten your grip around Nanook, squeezing your eyes shut. It’s not Nanook’s fault for not being able to protect you, nor is it your friends’ fault either. They wanted you to stay on the Astral Express to protect you, and it was going smoothly until the Astral Express was under attack. It wasn’t like they could predict what was going to happen to the train while they were away.

You swallow the lump in your throat, rubbing Nanook’s back. “It’s no one’s fault, Nanook. My friends were trying to protect me from the dangers on Jarilo-VI, but they didn’t think the Astral Express was going to be under attack. Please don’t blame them or yourself. It’s no one’s fault,” you whisper, pulling away from the hug.

Nanook stares at you. A deep frown remains on Nanook’s face while his eyebrows are furrowing with frustration. You gingerly reach up to Nanook’s face, rubbing his eyebrows, causing the Aeon to stare at you with confusion. Nanook grabs your wrist, raising an eyebrow at you. You and Nanook stare at each other in silence.

“What are you doing?” Nanook mutters, tilting his head to the side.

You clear your throat, lowering your hands awkwardly. “You were furrowing your eyebrows. I thought I should smooth the scrunch away,” you reply.

Nanook smiles with amusement, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “Stars, I don’t want to share you with anyone else.” Nanook thinks, squeezing you so tight you swear your back might pop. “Why can’t I have you for myself?”

Nanook snaps out of his thoughts when you call his name softly. 

“Are you alright?” You whisper, carding your fingers through his soft, luscious hair.

Nanook exhales deeply through his nostrils, nodding in response. Nanook doesn’t want you to regain your consciousness outside of the void. He can keep you here for eternity for all he’d like, but that would be selfish of him to do so. But why does it matter? Nanook is the one that brought you into this universe in the first place! Why do other people have to interfere and develop feelings for you too? It’s simply not fair. Nanook wants you for himself, and he doesn’t want to share you with anyone.

POP!

You groan and pat Nanook’s biceps to grab his attention. “You just popped my back, Nanook. Are you sure you’re okay?” You ask, lightly pushing him away to get a clear look at his face.

Nanook quickly apologizes and peppers your face with small kisses. You sigh and lean into his arms while he sways side to side with you. Your eyelids begin to get heavy as you slowly fall asleep, your vision turning black, and the last thing you feel is Nanook kissing your forehead.

The voices around you are muffled, almost like you’re underwater, and they’re above the surface. As you regain consciousness, you realize the voices around you are bickering. You groan and smack the nearest thing, earning a loud yelp.

“Ouch! Gumdrop, why did you hit me?!” Sampo whines.

You crack your eyes open to see nine faces peering down at you. Dear Aeons, you did not expect to see nine faces staring at you while you were unconscious. You rub your eyes and try to sit up. Sampo tackles you into a hug, squeezing you tightly. You groan when you feel your back pop. Gepard and Luocha grab Sampo by the shoulders and pull the indigo-haired man back.

“Be careful! [Y/N] is still recovering from their injury,” Gepard says, shaking his head with disapproval. 

Luocha kneels beside you and brushes your hair from your face. “How are you feeling, Stardust? Any aches and pains?” Luocha asks, eyeing you closely.

You move your arms, move and stretch your legs. So far, you feel fine as ever! “I feel okay. Nothing is hurting, but I do feel like I need to go to a chiropractor,” you say, rubbing the knot in your back.

“[Y/N]. We’re so sorry this happened to you. You wanted to join us, and we didn’t let you accompany us to Jarilo-VI because we wanted to keep you safe from danger. Instead, the Astral Express was under attack, and you were gravely injured,” Caelus says, grabbing your hands and squeezing them.

You shake your head. “It’s not your fault. None of us knew this was going to happen, Caelus. No one is at fault,” you whisper.

“We feel guilty for what happened. We’re not leaving you on the Astral Express alone next time. You’re safer with us than you are alone. Whether you’re on the Astral Express or not,” says Dan Heng.

You open your mouth to respond, but the lights in your room flicker on and off. The men standing around your bed tense up and form a barrier around you, drawing their weapons. The silence in your room was loud, so loud that everyone in the room could hear heavy footsteps approaching your room. The door swings open and enters a towering figure.

You peek between Jing Yuan and Blade’s shoulders, eyes widening when you see…

“Nanook. What are you doing here?” You whisper, getting up from your bed.

You’re about to walk toward Nanook, but Blade and Jing Yuan block your way, glaring at the Aeon of Destruction. Nanook raises his eyebrows at Blade and Jing Yuan, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Nanook clears his throat, watching the nine men stand around you while gazing at the Aeon warily.

Nanook sighs. “Since your…. Friends…. Can barely protect the one I find most precious and hold dear to my heart, I might as well join you on your journey across the universe,” says Nanook.

Blade clenches his jaws. “Oh? The Aeon of Destruction is joining us in our journey?” Blade sneers, tightening his grip around the sword.

“Should we trust him?” Luka whispers, not taking his eyes off the Aeon of Destruction.

Nanook merely rolls his eyes and walks toward the group, reaching over Blade and Jing Yuan to grab you. Nanook wraps his fingers around your wrist, pulling you forward. Nanook wraps his arms around your waist and kisses the side of your head, refusing to take his eyes off the group behind you.

Jing Yuan pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Keep your guard up at all times,” Jing Yuan instructs, keeping his eyes on the Aeon.

Perhaps you should’ve stayed a prisoner in your mind. The tension between your traveling companions and Nanook is so thick and awkward. You don’t know what to do other than be caught in the middle of the ten men. Nine of the men are glaring at the Aeon while the Aeon is running his fingers through your hair, gazing at the fuming nine men with mirth. Oh, this is going to be interesting. 

Note: I hope you all like this fic! Nanook is officially physically in the fic! >:D I wonder what's going to happen now that Nanook is physically in the fic with everyone now! Also, I hope you Luocha wanters have Luocha now! I have Luocha after spending money because Welt ended up coming home instead of Luocha 🥹 Got me spending all of my stellar jades too 😔 anyway! For those who want to be tagged in upcoming HSR fics, I have finally made a taglist form right [HERE]! Oh, and for those who want to, my discord is officially opened! This link is temporary and will expire after seven days. If you want to join, here is the link to [Zhongli's Abode]! If you like the server, you can stay! If it's not your cup of tea, then you can leave whenever you want! Please make sure to read the server rules when you join the server ^^ To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for the HSR fics: Will be tagging people when the taglist form is filled out :)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[incorporealbombchelle]

Friend of the Family

Mr.Reed × Fem!Reader(Mid-20s) [18+]

Synopsis: Part 1 - (y/n)'s boring family Christmas vacation to Colorado doesn't exactly go as anticipated...

⚠️TW: Boring Family Dynamic, Age Gap, Alcohol Consumption (all parties of age), Oral Sex (Male & Female Recipients), Raw P in V Penetration, Breif Mutual Masturbation, General Smut. ❄️

"So do I even *actually* know this guy?" I interrogate, unsure why we're staying there instead of some mountainside Airbnb. "Of course! (y/n), you've met Mr. Reed plenty of times, you were just, y'know...smaller." Dad explains, cheery. "Okay... but when you said 'Colorado Christmas Vacation' I thought we'd be like... snowboarding, or hanging out in a cute mountain town, or at least renting a cool cabin in Telluride... not like... the middle of nowhere part of Boulder with some guy I haven't seen since I was a kid..."

He sighs, defeated by my expectations yet again. "Listen. He's my best friend, a few years back he lost his wife, and its true, I haven't gotten around to seeing him in person since you were four, Bug."

He drones on,

"He's a really nice guy, and super cool. He loves that Lana Del Rey girl you're always talking about, and he's got a really nice collection of records and books, its like a mini Barnes & Noble in there! You might find you have more in common than you think!" He offers.

And I decline : "With a 64-year-old retired engineer from England? Yeah thanks, I'll pass. I'm just gonna stay out of the way, keep my headphones on, and let you two reconnect."

I pull out my phone, pop in my earpods, and open Tumblr, pretending to care at all about the latest posts on the Spencer Reid tag. Out of the corner of my eye I can tell I've hurt his feelings, but fathers never say the right thing, and he can withstand a little sting every once in a while. It's what he deserves for not telling me where we were staying til halfway through the plane ride.

Our plane finally touches down and we funnel through Boulder Municipal into a cab and I won't be the first one to speak. I take one earpod out just in case, which Dad takes as an invitation. "Just got a text from Mr. Reed, and I hope you're hungry Bug, because there. will. be. pie." He beams as though this is some great revelation, elaborating "He's got this wild recipe with earl grey in the crust and lemon zest in the filling, it's award-winning. Seriously! He enters it in the local contest every other year and it's only lost once!"

Despite how riveting my father finds Mr. Reed and his Great British baking exploits, I do not, and apparently it shows as his smile tamps down to a simper. "Sweetie, I'm really trying here. I can't convince you it's gonna be the best Christmas ever, hey, we'll probably both have altitude sickness the entire time, but let's just make an attempt, okay? Nothing has to be perfect." He's an idiot but he's right and I agree. "Okay, yeah. I'll be nice." I sigh "That pie does sound pretty good, I guess..."

The cab rolls through the city of Boulder as Lana lilts gently in my earpods about 'haaa-aa-ow toooo disappear~' and maybe this trip won't be so bad after all.

We're finally dropped at the gate to Mr. Reed's house and -you're fucking kidding me- his driveway, long and winding, is gravel. I wince inwardly at the realization that I'll have to lug two wheeled suitcases up that path and flash Dad a fake 'I'm so glad We're doing this' smile before yanking them out of the trunk and making my way up to the stoop. This pie better be incredible.

Once Dad and I are situated on the stoop, out of breath and travel-weary, I assault Mr. Reed's doorbell. It's cold and I need a shower.

ding. .... nothing. ding-ding. nope. dingdingdingdingdingdingdingding-

The door opens, finally, and a sweet-looking older man in a well composed cardigan-button down combo and jeans answers the door, smiling bright as his eyes fall on Dad.

"Jonathan!!"

"Reed!!"

Laughter ensues as I observe their embrace, holding back a heavy eyeroll. Somehow I am already third-wheeling.

"Oh my god, Mr. Reed, you remember (y/n)? She's just finished a semester at Oxford!" Dad smirks, gesturing to me and I give a shy wave as Mr. Reed's eyes scan over me, widening in surprise.

"(y/n)? As in, little (y/n), (y/n) who was- ?" He holds his hand flat, bringing it down by his knee as he looks between me and dad in disbelief.

"The very same, can you believe it?"

I purse my mouth into a smile, just completely overwhelmed by how awkward this interaction is.

"Well look at you! You've certainly grown up, haven't you?"

"I suppose so!" my best fake laugh.

Mr. Reed's eyes trace my form again and he pulls me into a quick side hug. He's warm and smells like lemon zest with a hint of vanilla.

"Let's get you two in then, supposed to be a blizzard tonight."

He grabs one of my suitcases and we follow him as he shuffles back inside.

His house is simple and a little cramped, but I do smell pie. 'Bless This Mess' reads a framed piece of embroidery on the wall, and if there is a God, I hope he does.

We toss our bags into our respective guest rooms at the top of the stairs and I finally get to take my shower before making a way back downstairs to the dining room.

We sit through a meal -shepherd's pie, what is it with this guy and pie?- and my dad and Mr. Reed discuss people they both know who died or lived or have moved or haven't moved and I am in hell until-

"Little after dinner drink then?"

My eyes snap up from my plate to meet his, a small smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. His eyes crinkle at the ends when he smiles and his smile is warm and comforting and it occurs to me for the first time that Mr. Reed is...handsome... If he were 20 years younger he'd definitely be my type, in fact...

"Alright! So that's one, me makes two, Jonathan, little shiraz with your pie?"

"Well how could I say no to such a generous offer?" Dad beams.

We move back into the living room and sip and I pick at the pie. It is good and after a glass and a half of shiraz Mr. Reed looks just as appetizing, but I decide I'm not going to eye-fuck this old man in front of my father, or at least not in an obvious way.

So I sit, tepid, on my phone and pretend not to be bothered by the lack of service while I half listen to their conversation, looking up strategically to ogle Mr. Reed every now and then. His eyes find mine and I watch him nibble at his lip and does he know?

"So then (y/n), Oxford, hm?"

"Uhm, yeah, I'm in their creative writing masters program right now... its... interesting."

"Interesting boring or interesting incredible?" He crosses one leg over the other and leans in, attentive.

"Uh, I mean it's going well, people in my classes are a little...er.. pretentious..?" I giggle, nervous.

"Exactly as I remember it, then!" He laughs loudly, and dad joins in, snickering along. His laughter is infectious and this wine is making me blush and I smile.

"You're an alum?"

"What, the accent didn't give it away?" A chuckle, "Yeah, yeah, I was lucky enough to take about an eon of courses in engineering sciences there, immigrate in the 90s, build this place, blah blah blah, but enough on me, it seems we may just be in the midst of the next great American novelist, eh Jonathan?" A wink.

"I don't know about that," I tear my eyes away from him, focusing in on the details of a floorboard.

"Oh (y/n) don't be modest, Reed you'd love her stuff, she's got some of the most well-metered prose, and-"

"Dad." I warn, eyes wide with embarrassment.

"Oop, sorry bug," He cringes "Didn't mean to dad-out on ya."

"I'd love to read some of your writing sometime, granted you'd be comfortable enough to share." Mr. Reed interjects.

"Uh, yeah. Maybe. Sometime..."

"Can I top you up?"

"Sure." He fills my glass just to the midpoint and does the same for himself.

"Jonathan?" He smirks playfully at dad.

"Ah, I dunno, I should probably be getting some shut-eye actually."

"Aw come on,"

"No, no, these days if im up past 10 with a drink in hand I'll be totally useless the next 24 hours." He stands, patting my shoulder. "Night, y'all. Don't have too much fun without me!" And there go the finger guns so now it's my turn to cringe.

He finally leaves the room and I'm alone with Mr. Reed. There's a heavy silence in the air and I take a small sip of my drink.

"So, (y/n), big on Lana Del Rey I hear?" He smirks.

"One of my favorites." I breathe, forcing a smile.

"Norman Fucking Rockwell or Blue Banisters?"

"NFR."

His eyebrows raise "it's okay to be wrong."

"But I'm not."

"Lust for Life or Born To Die; Paradise Edition?"

"... you ask hard questions, Mr. Reed."

"And you... answer them."

"And if I give you another 'wrong' answer?"

"Why would it matter? Are you trying to impress me?"

"...Paradise." I squint at him.

"Mm, see? We agree on something."

I'm powerless to the smile that forms on my face.

"Yeah?"

He lets out a low laugh. "Yeah,"

"What drew you to her, originally I mean?" He looks me over.

"Well, like a lot of young women I do have the obligatory depression diagnosis and Tumblr account combo, and things spiraled out from there I guess..."

"Ah, and here I thought it was just your ill-suited attraction to old men!" He lets out a warm chuckle at his own joke and I must've misheard him.

"What?" I shift a bit in my place on the couch, called out.

He scoffs. "Come on, (y/n). Let's not play this game. You've been eyeing me up since dinner, sitting there and sipping your drink and sucking berries off your fork in the most salacious way, letting your gaze linger, innocent and doe-eyed yet so apathetic to it all," he rolls his eyes like he might be as well, "when in reality, it seems, correct me if I go wrong, but you've been looking at me all night like you want me to touch you. Is that accurate or am I projecting a fantasy?"

The tip of his tongue trails his lip and my eyes follow its path and I'm warm. His eyes search mine, that was supposed to be a question.

"Uhm... no that... that sounds...accurate..." I admit almost silently, eyes boring into the floor as I sheepishly take another sip of my wine.

"Hm. I see. And in front of your father too...tsk, naughty girl. Lucky for you the man's terrible at reading body language or subtext of any variant,"

Mr. Reed rises from his chair across the coffee table and plants himself on the edge of the sofa next to me. "I, however, do not have that problem." I look up at him and his eyes are two blue marbles behind those wireframed glasses and his cheshire smirk is enough to melt me, it's overwhelming.

My face is hot and my body is tight as he delicately removes the wineglass from my hand, sets it down on the coffee table, and leans down to kiss me.

He's tender and gentle and his lips are soft, his tongue stained with blueberry filling as it finds mine, and he strokes my cheek. I place a shaky hand on his knee and one of his covers it as he presses his forehead to mine, breaking the spell. "Are you certain this is something you want, (y/n)? I wouldn't want to impose-" I cut him off with another, more assertive kiss because I need this.

The holidays are stressful and I'm horny and he's here. Fuck it.

As we continue making out, Mr. Reed scoots onto the couch beside me and I find his zipper. His dick jumps to meet my hand through the fabric as one of his hands slips under my sweater and he moans at the softness of my breast.

I pull away to unzip his pants and stroke him a couple times before moving to kneel between his legs. I look up to him, reverent, then back down to his cock, throbbing in hand. Giving him a few steady strokes, I lean forward, parting my lips.

"Can I?" I blink.

He nods eagerly, transfixed.

I take as much of him into my mouth as I can and swallow as his tip hits the back of my throat.

I hear him suck in a breath and his hands find my hair as I start to bob my head over the length of him, holding his balls with one hand and methodically stroking his base with the other. His breath catches, ragged and I feel him spasm in my mouth. I need him. I finally come up for air with a gasp and wipe a tendril of spit off my lower lip as I look up at him. "Mr. Reed, I want to fuck you," I breathe.

"Well all you had to do was ask," he sighs and I pull myself up off the floor, undoing my jeans and tugging them off my legs as quickly as I can before tearing off my sweater and within seconds I'm standing before him in just my panties and bralette. His eyes trail over me. His teeth sink into his lower lip as a hand wraps around his dick and I place a knee on either side of his legs, straddling him. Fair is fair and my fingers slip under the hem of my panties so I can work myself for him as he takes me in.

"How do you want me?"

"Turn around."

I follow his blunt instruction and as I do his fingers hook into either side of my panties, pulling the dampened fabric down my legs.

"Now, you're going to squat down for me... slowly."

I do as I'm told and he guides my hips, lining himself up with my center. Mr. Reed rests his hands on the tops of my thighs, pushing me further down into his lap and I gasp as I feel him begin to penetrate me. I knew it was big, I mean, he could barely fit in my mouth, but christ. I swivel my hips in an attempt to adjust to him, and hear him draw in a breath.

"(y/n), I want you to bounce for me, and you will. not. make. a sound. understood?"

"Y-yes Mr. Reed."

I start to raise and lower myself slowly on him and gasp sharply as I feel myself tense. He holds me steady by my biceps and guides me up and down.

"Good, that's- ohh that is good, just keep going... mm, mhm, just. like. that. you. Are. Brilliant..." he murmurs, squeezing my ass and I bite back a moan

"Shhhh-shh..."

"Ssorry Mr. Reed," I manage quietly.

He continues to guide my movements, faster now, and lets his head tip against the back of the couch. I feel him twitch inside me and gasp sharply.

"(y/n), stand for me?" And I do.

He turns me around by my hips and I blink down at Mr. Reed and he's panting, glasses perched on top of his head, looking me over hungrily.

"Lay back on the couch here, pet."

He sets a pillow down for me to rest my head on and I do as he says, watching him part my legs, settling between them as he presses gentle kisses up my inner thighs, staring intently into my eyes as he does.

He hovers over my core and I gasp at the warmth of his breath. I watch Mr. Reed's eyes close for a moment as he inhales the scent of my sex and smirks to himself.

"Does your pussy taste like Pepsi Cola then, (y/n)?" He lets out a low chuckle at his own corny little quip, bringing his mouth closer "Shall we find out?"

He pins my thighs open and slowly licks a wide stripe up my vulva from entrance to clit. I can't hold back the whimper that slips from me at the heat of his tongue, and it's even harder to silence msyelf when he dips two fingers into me, curling the pads of his fingertips just slightly as he steadily works me, his tongue moving in a synced rythym against my clit.

The sensation is almost too much and I gasp as I feel myself spasm a couple times around his fingers. He hums into me and the vibration sends a shudder through my body. He tilts his head up, panting as he continues fingering me, and my hips arch up to meet his hand.

He removes his fingers, pressing them against the plush of my lower lip and into my mouth. I suck and lick impatiently, and before long his mouth is on mine again as I feel his cock slip into me. I can't help the soft moan that escapes my lips as he begins to slowly rock his hips into mine.

"Mister Reed?" I breathe

"Mm?"

"It's... you're just...so big...." He smirks.

"Oh, I'm aware dear." He picks up his pace some "You're taking me so well, though..." he presses a kiss into the side of my neck and I gasp.

"Being so good for me..."

A loud creak interrupts us from overhead and Mr. Reed stops moving, eyes glued upwards as he clamps his hand over my mouth.

Heavy footsteps make the floorboards groan above us as he slowly starts to fuck me again and I take in a sharp breath through my nostrils, looking up at him, panicked.

"Shhh, shh-" another low creak.

Mr. Reed quickens his thrusts and I involuntarily whine against his hand which finds it's way to my neck instantly, holding firm.

"I said. Be quiet." He whispers sternly.

I bite my lip in an effort not to cry out, nodding and I begin to feel that familiar tension coiling inside as he bucks into me, my mind going totally blank at the way his hand feels wrapped around my throat.

The footsteps and floorboards finally stop and his grip on my neck releases some and I feel warm and hazy as he continues to forcefully piston into me. I feel myself starting to tense up and I struggle for breath as I unwind completely under him.

Seconds later, Mr. Reed lets out a low groan and I feel his orgasm pulse out acutely within me as I weather my own.

We lay there for a few minutes and as we come down together, the weight of our indiscretion settles in some.

I've just fucked my dad's best friend. Three days before Christmas. And I liked it. A lot.

"I needed that so badly."

"I could tell," he chortles.

Mr. Reed slips out of me, grabbing one of the discarded linen napkins from the coffee table to clean himself off with, before gently tucking it between my legs.

"Oh, and... it does, by the way."

[alpaca-clouds]

Let's Talk About "Marvelfication"

Okay, let me try to get this out of my system, because I do have some thoughts on this one.

See, as you know, I finished Dragon Age: Veilguard last week. And I did enjoy the game. I never was that attached to the franchise. I really enjoyed Inquisition back in the day when it came out, but after doing two runs with it never have really returned to it. I also did play one of the older games, though I am not fully sure which one, because it was a long while ago. But I just never got that attached to the franchise. (Which mostly has to do with my own personal issues with High Fantasy.)

But that is not what I wanted to talk about. What I wanted to talk about is more the thing I have seen now multiple people call out: "The Marvelfication" as some have called it. And mind you, I absolutely do agree with this: There were several scenes in this game where I thought to myself: "This feels kinda MCU."

However, what I kinda want to talk about is the specific wording here: "Marvelfication." Because it is super understandable that the first thing that comes to mind (for me as well) is the MCU. But I think the issue is way deeper than "MCU is popular, so let's do something like the MCU".

A lot of folks on Youtube and other platforms have talked about how a lot of "tropes" that people blame on the MCU are actually older than the MCU. The reason people associate it with the MCU is moreso that the MCU is just fucking everywhere since it became this big thing. It is what defines the media landscape.

The big issue actually is another one, though: Those tropes are everywhere because in a more and more conservative media landscape they are considered safe. These types of jokes are not risky in any way. These types of characters are not risky. These types of stories are not risky.

It is stories that are set in societies that are messed up, and then there is a big conflict that only tangentally relates to the ways the societies are messed up in, and then that conflict is resolved but the status quo does not change.

And that more than anything is what I would criticize about the game. Outside of very prominently centering some trans issues, the game has taken very little risks.

I wrote about that a bit last week in comparison to BG3, how safe the companions in Veilguard feel. This shows so harshly in direct comparison to BG3, because really, Larian sat down with player and told you: "Those assholes are your companions. Take it or leave it." Those people I know who never finished BG3 mostly never did because they could not stand the companions. Meanwhile those who, like me, got obsessed with the game, mostly did it because it feels so fucking satisfying when you start to get through to the companions after they started out as those assholes. This satisfaction is something Veilguard never really offers you - because... Well, I can assume that some of these characters had some edges at some point. But whatever edges there had been, those have gotten smoothed down, so now everyone is perfectly sweet. Sure, they might argue a bit here or there, and if you make decisions they do not agree with, they are gonna be pissy with Rook for a bit, but that's the most of it.

Same with a lot of other stuff. There is basically no sexual content in this game. You get one sex scene that is super tame and you see nothing - and one to two kisses per romance. No risk.

Any no matter what kinda choice the characters make, they are all gonna be nice, you know?

There is one thing in the finale of the game that is kinda risky, I will admit. But I will not talk about that yet, because I knwo a lot of people have not finished the game.

But for the most part the game does not risk anything.

And really, that is the core of what folks call "Marvelfication". Because pretty much this is also the issue with Marvel and Star Wars and pretty much all American made media: Outside of some smaller productions, some of which do well with the tumblr crowd but barely get any attention from mainstream audience (*coughs* Interview with the Vampire *coughs*) there is little risk taken. The humor is the same everywhere because this humor is considered safe. The characters feel kinda samey everywhere, because those characters are safe.

It is why I have stopped going to the cinema, because these days there are barely any movies I consider worth watching. It is ironically also why I have recently watched a whole lot more Japanese stuff, because it is easier to find stuff there that does not play it that safe.

It is also why I do these days mostly consume western stuff that has a 18+ rating on it - because at least with that stuff I know that it probably is not gonna play it "safe".

I just wish some media took more risks. I want those medium budget projects back, that cost like 30-50 million, so can make a profit with 100 million at the box office, without doing billions. I want some stuff in there that is not a big IP. I just want... stuff.

Right now I am looking at the soon end of What We Do In The Shadows, mostly because it is one of the few things on right now that does some risky stuff. And I miss those SyFy low budget originals, because some of it was kinda risky. Ugh.

The issue is not Marvel. It is not even Disney. It is that the creative industries in the US right now mainly put out big budget stuff that because of that big budget needs to be loved by everyone.

And look, I am trans. Hence I absolutely do see some value in the fact that Bioware clearly took position and said: "Okay, we get to do one risky thing, so that thing is gonna be to incluse a variety of trans characters." Which I love and respect. But I kinda wish the game had not been quite that pretty and instead also included a bit more edges on the characters.

... But I guess in the end there is still fanfiction, where I can still make the characters messy. lol

[cakesunflower]

lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 1

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family's restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn't see coming--one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn't sure they'll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Author's Note: I forgot how much I absolutely loathe writing summaries LOL but anyways! First chapter is here, let me know if y'all vibe with it. I had fun writing it and if you wanna see more, let me know! (And now I have to figure out if I remember linking everything on my blog since I haven't posted my writing on Tumblr in forever. . .)

Chapter 1

“Oh, no. No, no, no. Don’t do this to me, please.”

Isla Carrera’s pleading is in vain as the engine of her car sputters out of life, and there’s just enough juice left for her to pull over onto the side of the dirt road so she’s not stranded in the middle. Her grip on the steering wheel remains tight as she sits in silence, staring out onto the dark road only lit up by the two beams of her headlights. The small silver lining, if there is one, is that she knows exactly where she is, just a little ways away from a row of houses on Figure Eight. But right now, she’s surrounded by trees on a road that has no street lamps, the sky a blanket of black above her. 

Her groan cuts through the silence, eyes squeezing shut as she rests her forehead against the steering wheel. She should have just slept over at John B’s house like her sister, Kie, decided to. But Isla’s covering another waitress at the restaurant early tomorrow, and she didn’t want to run late again or else her parents would rip her a new one. Kie’s shift wasn’t until later in the afternoon, so her sister was in no rush to get home. Now here Isla is, with a car that won’t turn over, still a fifteen minute drive away from her house.

“Fucking great,” she mutters, making sure her hazards are on and her phone is in her pocket before getting out of the car. 

Though she knows nothing about cars, Isla pops open the hood and uses the flashlight on her phone. If she’s being honest, it all looks like a bunch of mechanical junk she has no idea how to work her way around. She’s not sure why she even bothers, so instead of wasting time, she unlocks her phone to find the number for a towing service.

A rumble of a car engine catches her attention, the kind that makes an annoying popping sound, and by the time she looks up and around the open top of her hood, she sees two guys hopping out of an old Ford truck. She vaguely recognizes them. Just by the look of them, they seem to be a couple of years older than her—and clearly from The Cut. Not that it matters, since her best friends are from the other side of the island, but not all of the people from The Cut are fond of those from Figure Eight, and vice versa. Isla and her sister, though they belong on the more privileged side of the island, prefer the freedom of The Cut. 

None of that exactly matters right now, though.

Music cranks out of the car, but Isla can’t pay it any mind as unease creeps into her stomach when both sets of eyes land on her. 

She’s a girl alone in the middle of a road at night, so Isla is immediately on high alert as the guys make their way towards her, slow but confident in a way that makes her feel like a prey. I don’t like this. 

Alarm bells are ringing in her head as one of the guys in cargo shorts and a tank top shoots her a slimy grin. “Car trouble, sweetheart?”

Isla’s muscles tense. Yeah, nope. Not good. “Uh, no, all good,” she says, forcing some of that confidence into her voice that Kie is an expert at wielding. 

The other one with darker hair hidden under a baseball cap asks, “You sure we can’t help?” His grin is anything but charming. “We’d be more than happy to help.”

They don’t stop their approach, and Isla’s mind begins running through different scenarios, her pulse beginning to quicken in panic she’s trying to keep at bay. There’s no one around to help, and she can’t depend on another car passing by and stopping to help—if they even would. She doesn’t want to lock herself in her car while she calls her dad or friends for help; the idea of sitting trapped makes her heart squeeze with dread.

“You can stop right there.” She doesn’t want to give into the fear that’s slithering through her veins, but she can’t stop the words from escaping her mouth, the crunch of the dirt beneath their shoes too daunting to ignore. 

Her hand inches towards her back pocket where she had stashed her keys, fingers closing around the small can of pepper spray she’s got hooked in there. Isla has never had the unfortunate opportunity to use it before, but the vibes she’s getting right now—first time for everything. 

“What’s the matter?” the first guy asks with a taunting tilt of his head, neither of them stopping their pace. “We’re only here to help.”

Yeah, fucking right. “Stop.” Her heart is pounding in her ears, taking a few steps back.

Creepy guy number two exchanges a look with number one. “See that, Dyl? Little Miss Kook looks a little scared.”

Oh, screw this. Isla refuses to stick around and find out what’s going to happen, and she doesn’t at all feel guilty when she juts her hand forward and presses down on the top of the small can. Her aim is a little off, so she only manages to spray the first guy—Dyl. The sound of his shriek of pain cuts through the air, and he stumbles back and spits out curses as he presses the heels of his palms into his eyes.

The second guy freezes in surprise, looking between Isla and his friend, but she doesn’t stick around to see what he’s going to do next. Instead, Isla turns and makes a run for it, making sure to press the button on her FOB to lock her car as she bolts down the dirt road. She can hear the guys yelling over the sound of the breeze rushing past her ears, fear fueling more power to her legs as she nears a neighborhood street at the end of the dirt road. Isla isn’t sure if they’re following her, or if they’re even going to, but she doesn’t pause to find out. 

She runs and runs, her lungs beginning to burn, as she rounds a stone wall with greenery growing through the cracks that closes in a property—only for her vision to go black for a split second when she collides against something.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Scratch that—make that someone, because instead of falling back on her ass, a strong pair of arms wrap around her waist to keep her from tumbling down. The grip is tight and secure, and a delicious aroma of what seems to be earthy wood tickles her nose. “What the hell are you—Isla?”

The sound of her name being spoken in that all too familiar voice clears Isla’s head, and she pulls back enough to look up into the startling blue eyes of Rafe Cameron. Her pounding heart seems to slow down a fraction, and she’s not sure what to make of the mild relief that calms down her frazzled nerves because this is Rafe Cameron. Sure, he might not be as bad as those two freaks, and he’s one of her close friends’ brothers, but he’s still the same guy that has gotten into more than a few fights with her best friends. That being said, she shouldn’t find as much comfort as she does being in front of him. 

Her breathing is heavy, pulse throbbing uncontrollably. She only barely registers her hands gripping his forearms, like it’s grounding her as she takes in Rafe’s expression. His eyebrows are furrowed together as he looks down at her, his height towering over her five-foot five frame, and there’s more confusion than worry in his features, unsurprisingly. Her heavy breathy makes her privy to the scent of nicotine, glancing down to see a half used cigarette now laying forgotten on the ground. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Rafe repeats. Isla hears the familiar thread of annoyance in his voice, but she can’t bring herself to give a damn. 

She lets go of him like he’s electrocuted her, taking a step back and forcing him to let go of her, too. It takes everything in her not to acknowledge the way her skin burns where his had touched hers. “Going for a run, what does it look like?” she snaps back, though her voice trembles on her breath. 

Rafe’s expression deadpans, though he arches an eyebrow under the dirty blonde bangs that frame his forehead. “Looks like you’re scared,” he states. 

“I—” Isla gets cut off by the familiar sound of a car engine rumbling, the popping kind, and the breath locks in her throat as she glances over her shoulder. “Fuck,” she breathlessly mutters, catching sight of the headlights creeping up from around the corner on the road. She’s not sure if those guys are looking for her—though, she wouldn’t be surprised given that she pepper sprayed one of them, and her pulse quickens again in panic with the need to hide away.

“Wait—are you running from someone?” Rafe questions, and Isla looks back at him to see his gaze pointed over her head, right where the noise of the car is coming from. A car that sounds to be approaching too close.

“You’re asking too many questions,” Isla returns hastily, stepping to go around him. “I need to go—”

Rafe lets out an exasperated huff, and if she had all her wits about her, she’d snap at him. But instead, surprise slams through her when Rafe’s hand wraps around her bicep, his grip firm but not tight as he mutters, “Come here.”

Before Isla knows it, she’s being dragged through the gate of the Cameron estate, disappearing onto the property right when the car turns the corner. Her heart launches to her throat when Rafe suddenly turns her, and she’s being pressed against the stone wall, soft leaves pressing to her back in contrast to the hard surface.

Isla’s eyes widen when Rafe’s body presses against her, the air rushing out of her lungs as her gaze snaps up to meet his. “What are you doing?” she asks, her words a mere breath.

He seems surprised by his own actions, lips pursed and that muscle in his clean shaven jaw pulsing almost as quickly as her own heart. Can he hear the thundering, feel it? “Just—stay quiet,” Rafe grits.

Part of Isla wants to push him off—the part that sounds a lot like her friends. But fear wins out, keeping her in place, as she hears the car creep along in front of the gate of the Cameron property. 

Rafe’s eyes silently tell her to remain quiet and something tightens her stomach—something other than fear—and it startles her enough to flick her gaze to the left, towards the vine wrapped gate. She can see the headlights slowly passing by, and she prays that these guys aren’t stupid enough to trespass private property.

Then again, they were ready to do God-knows-what to her, so who the hell knows?

The thought alone sends her heartbeat accelerating all over again, panic settling in her bones hard enough to rattle them. Isla’s hands fist at her sides, eyes squeezing shut as she leans her head back against the wall. How the hell had her night taken such a freaky turn? And how is it that Rafe Cameron, of all people, is the one to help her out?

Suddenly, the mid-May night doesn’t feel as warm as Rafe’s body; he isn’t close enough where his body is completely pressing into hers, but she can feel the soft material of his shirt fluttering against the bare skin of her stomach, thanks to her crop top. Isla can feel the heat of his skin seeping into hers, which makes her heart thunder with something other than panic, and she’s not entirely sure what the hell to do with that.

“Relax—they’re gone.”

His voice is low and gruff, a tone that makes goosebumps pebble her skin even in this warm weather. Isla opens her eyes with a sharp exhale and her brown eyes immediately find Rafe’s blue, her throat tightening under his scrutinizing gaze. True, she can’t hear the engine anymore, the headlights are also gone, and Isla tries to even out her breathing while nodding slowly. 

Rafe’s eyes rake over her and shouldn’t she feel unsettled about that? About how close he’s standing to her? But it seems like all of her unease has been used up from evading those weirdos, so Rafe Cameron being her rescuer doesn’t annoy her as much as it normally would. 

“So what was that about?” he questions, raising an eyebrow.

Isla’s throat works, dragging her gaze back up at him. The lamps spaced out along the wall light his face, casting shadows along his sharp cheekbones. He’s so handsome—the thought crosses through her mind quickly, and though she would never admit it to her friends, she can’t help but find the truth in it—as insane as it might be.

“Nothing to concern yourself with,” Isla finds herself saying, lifting her chin in a small act of defiance.

The corner of Rafe’s mouth twitches into a ghost of a smirk, and through the light reflecting in his eyes, she can see them dancing in amusement. “Given that I just saved your ass, an explanation would be nice.”

Isla scowls, all thoughts of his stupidly good looks vanishing. “I didn’t ask you to do that. I had it under control.”

It’s a lie spoken through her teeth, and Rafe can see that. “Yeah, looked real under control when you were running for your life,” he replies dryly, eyebrows rising. But then his expression flattens out, eyebrows furrowing together once again as he says, “Seriously, Isla. What gives? What the hell was that about?”

“Just—some fucking weirdos, I don’t know,” she huffs, frustration from this entire ordeal bubbling to the surface as she rubs her hands up her face and runs her fingers through her hair. “I—Can you back up?” she asks hastily, forcing a glare. Rafe, surprisingly, simply presses his lips together and raises his hands in defense while taking a couple of steps away from her. Isla is no longer embraced by his warmth, by his scent, and there’s an unexpected tug in her chest that she ignores. “My car broke down on that dirt path behind the road. I was trying to figure it out when these guys pulled up and, I don’t know, shit got weird so I made a break for it.”

Rafe frowns as he listens to her, and Isla shakes her head, rubbing the back of her neck. “I need to get back to my car,” she says.

“Seriously?” Rafe asks, scoffing. “You’re gonna go back when some freaks are looking for you?”

Isla glares at him, not at all appreciating him talking to her like she’s stupid. “My wallet’s still in my car. I need to grab it if they haven’t fucking broken into my car already.”

She moves past him to head to the gate, surprised to hear his footsteps as he easily catches up to her. “What, you’re gonna walk back?” When Isla glances at Rafe, he’s looking at her like she’s insane. No sign of the contempt he normally saves for her and her friends, which is slightly unnerving. “After you were just running from some freaks? You do realize how much of a bad idea that is, right?”

She shrugs even as the unease from before returns at the idea of running into those guys again. “I need to get my wallet,” is her meek response.

Rafe lets out a breath, running his fingers through his hair and Isla briefly frowns at herself at the way her gaze seems to run to the flex of his bicep. And the way her stomach fucking flutters because this is Rafe Cameron. The only fluttering her stomach should be doing where he’s concerned is one tinged with nausea.

Rafe then fixes her with a stern look. “Come on,” he says firmly before walking down the driveway of his house.

Isla blinks out of whatever stupor she was in and glares at his back—and at the demand he left her with. She scoffs, hands splaying in annoyance until she realizes he’s headed straight for his motorcycle. Her shoulders drop, rooted on the spot as she says flatly, “You’re joking.”

Rafe is already pulling out a helmet—scratch that, two helmets—and looking at her, once again, like she’s an idiot while she glares at him. At least there’s that bit of normalcy. “This—” He holds up both helmets in each hand. “Is better than you walking back to your car by yourself. Let’s go.”

Isla’s disbelief only intensifies. She doesn’t walk over to him, doesn’t take the proffered helmet. Instead, she exhales sharply and crosses her arms over her chest, asking, “Why are you helping me?”

Rafe has the gall to look annoyed by her question, arms resting at his sides. His gaze locks with Isla’s, but she doesn’t shy away from it as he eventually drops his head back with a groan before looking back at her once more. “Listen, contrary to your and your friends’ popular belief, I’m not a complete dick.” Isla can’t help but scoff and roll her eyes, cutting her gaze away from him in doubt. He cannot be serious. “I wouldn’t want either of my sisters to be fucking chased by some losers, so just think of this as my good deed of the month, alright? Now will you please take the damn helmet and get on the bike?”

Frankly, Isla feels like she’s just stepped into an alternate reality because, seriously, when was the last time Rafe Cameron ever did anything nice for her—if ever?

But as much as Isla’s pride is begging for her to tell him thanks but no thanks and turn and walk back to her car, fear still resides in the pit of her belly, waiting to strike. She hates to admit it, but Rafe is right. It’d be dumb of her to walk back alone at night after what just happened. Maybe she could call her sister or one of her friends, but that would just add unnecessary time to all this, and Isla just really wants to get home. So, fine; maybe she can accept Rafe’s offer to drive her to her car, and then from there maybe she can call an Uber home and call a tow truck from the safety of her bedroom.

Rafe holds out one of the black helmets in impatience, and Isla purses her lips as she pushes herself to walk over. She does her best not to admire the sight of him next to his bike, something she never would have done before tonight. Maybe this whole freaky situation has loosened some screws in her brain.

Isla all but snatches the helmet out of his hand, though a part of her feels as though it’s just for appearances’ sake to keep up her usual attitude around Rafe, and tucks her dark hair behind her ears before pulling the helmet on, the visor still up. She tries her best not to think of the weight of his gaze on her as she fiddles with the straps on her chin to secure the helmet, but she’s unable to get it right, fingers trembling despite herself.

“I got it,” Rafe says, and Isla freezes when he gently bats her hands away and steps up to her, using his finger to push at the bottom of the helmet so she can tilt her head back enough for him to see the straps. The heat of his body greets her once more and she’s silent as she feels him secure the straps, breath hitching quietly when the backs of his fingers brush against her skin. 

He’s done within seconds, but it sure as shit feels longer as she remains standing there, watching him pull on his own helmet. Isla watches silently as Rafe gets on the bike, wondering how she got here, and he says, “Hop on.”

Isla has ridden on the back of JJ’s bike plenty of times, so she gets on with no trouble, though she does have to grip Rafe’s shoulders in order to do so. They’re broad and firm under her hands, and she mentally chastises herself for even thinking about his stupid shoulders. When she’s settled behind him, her legs framing his, Isla’s heartbeat picks up at the sudden proximity, her front against his back. 

She’s sure she’s barely breathing when her skin warms because there’s barely any space that exists between them, and when Rafe tells her, “Hold on or risk flying off,” she can’t decide if she wants to smack him upside the head or beg for the ground to swallow her whole.

Sliding the visor down, Isla inhales deeply and quietly before winding her arms around Rafe’s waist, teeth gritting together because if her friends saw her now, they definitely would believe she’s lost her mind. The fact of the matter is, right now all she can seem to focus on is the solidness of his stomach against her arms and how fucking good he smells, which is confusing and overwhelming and everything in between.

The motorcycle’s engine roars to life, and seconds later Rafe is kicking off the kick-stand and they’re riding down the driveway and onto the road. She had told him her car stopped on the dirt path behind the actual road, separated by trees, and that’s all Rafe seemingly needs to know as he takes them in the right direction. The breeze as they go feels good against her, cooling her heated skin down and she would never admit it, but riding on the back of Rafe Cameron’s bike has a somewhat calming effect on her.

The tension that had tightened her muscles since her encounter with those other guys melts away, and the rapid thumping of her heart has nothing to do with anxiety and everything to do with the thrill of this moment. Maybe it’s ill advised, but it seems to be exactly what she needs as the night air mixes with Rafe’s cologne—or maybe he just smells like that in general?

God, she’s getting too weird about this.

Soon enough, her car comes into view and Isla is relieved when there seems to be no sign of those guys. Rafe stops the bike right next to her car, and another sigh of relief escapes her when she sees that her car doesn’t look damaged. Swinging her leg over, she uses Rafe’s shoulders as leverage to get off the bike, trying not to think too much about the loss of his body heat as she reaches for the helmet straps. 

They’re easier to undo than they were to strap, and she lifts the helmet off, one hand already flattening her dark hair as Rafe holds his hand out for the helmet. As she unlocks the car, Rafe asks, “How’d you manage to outrun them?”

Isla leans into the driver’s seat, reaching for her tote bag in the passenger seat. She digs through it for a moment, taking stock of her wallet, lip gloss, lip balm, and the few other things still safely inside. “I pepper-sprayed one of them,” she answers as she pulls out and straightens. 

When she turns to look at Rafe, whose helmet’s visor is up, she sees the smirk that curls at his mouth. How does a sight that made her want to knee him in the stomach before make her feel kind of weak kneed right now? Did those guys really freak her out so much that now down is up and left is right? “Nice,” he murmurs, nodding in approval. Jutting his chin towards her car, he asks, “You gonna call a truck?”

Isla shakes her head. “When I get home,” she says, pulling out her phone. 

Rafe nods as he holds the helmet out once more. “Alright, let’s go.”

Isla pauses, gaze flicking up from her phone screen where the Uber app is open to look at him. Arching an eyebrow, she asks, “Uh, go where?”

He mirrors the arched eyebrow look. “I’ll take you home,” he says as if it’s obvious when it very much isn’t.

“No thanks. I can Uber,” she answers, already putting her home address in.

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head as he remains sitting on his bike. “You’re just full of bad ideas tonight, aren’t you?” he says. Isla’s eyes narrow, irritation sparking through her as he splays his arms out to gesture to the road they’re on. “You’re really gonna wait out here on a dirt road, with no street lamps, in the dark for an Uber when I’m offering you a ride home right now?” Before she can respond, he carries on, “On the same stretch of road, mind you, that you just got harassed on?”

The irritation intensifies, and Isla’s expression twists into a glare as she snaps, “What’s it to you, huh? You already did your good deed of the month. We’re not friends, Rafe. I don’t need your help.”

Even with the helmet on, she can tell he’s clenching his jaw, eyes hard as he sets them on her. The look makes her chest burn in a way that’s not all unwelcome, and that alone should be a sign that she’s losing it. “We may not be friends, but you’re my sister’s friend, alright? Sarah would kill me if she found out I left you out here by yourself. So stop being so fucking stubborn and get on the damn bike, Isla. I’m taking you home.”

She presses her tongue to her cheek, shoulders bunched in frustration while Rafe glares at her, his own impatience radiating off of him in waves. Sarah has told Isla how stubborn her brother can be, and while Isla doesn’t know Rafe well, she knows him and has dealt with him enough to know he isn’t budging on this. So, with a huff, she snatches the helmet once more, ignoring the protests in her head that sound suspiciously a lot like her friends as she pulls the helmet on. 

She manages to get the straps this time and gets back on the bike, her bag securely hanging off her shoulder as Rafe starts the bike again and Isla swallows silently as she wraps her arms around his waist once more. Every part of her is warm where it touches him, and as he drives, she tilts her head back, practically begging for anyone listening to get her to calm the hell down.

Seriously—how the hell did Rafe Cameron become her would-be hero of tonight?

Luckily, her house is a ten minute drive from the Cameron house and Isla allows him to pull up to the front of the house, since Kie isn’t home and has no chance of peeking out her bedroom window and seeing Isla getting off Rafe’s bike. He parks the bike and Isla lets go of him almost immediately, hopping off the bike and undoing the straps of the helmet under her chin.

Rafe is already looking at her by the time she gets the helmet off, his blue eyes visible since the visor is lifted. With a close mouthed, saccharine smile, Isla all but shoves the helmet into his hands. “Thanks for the ride. Let’s never do this again.”

He scoffs as he shakes his head, but the smirk on his face is apparent. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Isla rolls her eyes and, without another word, turns towards her house. She’s on the front porch and fishing keys out when she glances to the right and sees Rafe still parked there, seemingly watching her. Her stomach does a stupid, weird flip as she unlocks the door and shoos him. “Go away,” she hisses, even though Kiara isn’t home and her parents wouldn’t care that Rafe dropped her off—hell, her mom would be thrilled, honestly.

Even from this distance, she can just picture Rafe’s arrogant smirk as he lifts a hand in a two fingered salute before revving the engine of his bike, and Isla clenches her jaw as he speeds off, the roar echoing down the block. Exhaling sharply, Isla shakes her head and walks into her house, shutting the door behind her just as she hears footsteps approaching her.

“Where have you been?” her mom asks, not demanding but more concerned.

Isla smiles sheepishly as she faces her mother. “Yeah, about that. . .”

[n3rdyw0rdy]

My thoughts on Vefve

I’ve been a fan of Ghost and Pals since 2018, and only in recent years have I joined the fandom. If you’ve seen my past tumblr account, you can tell that I’m quite the fan of Christopher Pierre (Aka: The Distortionist)

I’ve noticed Vefve when I saw her reference sheet for her version of Christopher Pierre and went down the pipeline of her works, and I’ve got some thoughts.

Selfshipping

I have no problem with self shipping at all, since I myself, if you couldn’t tell, make countless ocs for fandoms or characters I like.

What I do feel odd about is Vefve’s self ship with Christopher Pierre. I have heard that Vefve is in her early or late 20’s (I’m not completely certain, but she claimed to be an adult), which the character, Christopher, is 17.

I know she has stated that the version if Chris that she ships herself with is “aged up”, but Christopher, quite literally, hasn’t aged a bit in her art. Even if he’s supposed to be “24”, Vefve has done nothing to his design to indicate that he’s older than he canonically is, appearance wise, which rubs me the wrong way.

“He’s fictional”, I don’t hear you guys saying that when Erin Clover shipped herself with Bakugo while she was in her 30’s.

The Vampire Au

I wasn’t familiar with this AU or the fanfic that went along with it until recently.

I know that Vefve has made a statement saying how she doesn’t like the fanfic anymore, but I beg to differ.

For context, the fanfic consisted of Christopher Pierre as a Vampire, and Kennith Simmons (keep him in mind) as a victim. Christopher attacks Kennith and offed him, but then kissed the severed head of Kennith.

This fanfic is both odd and just weird to me. The random n3crophilia and weird romanticization of the situation leaves a weird taste in my mouth, and if anything, unnecessary.

I understand that Vefve wanted it to be a “horror” fic and not glamorized, but the fanfic itself does that. She even made the excuse that “vampires can’t control themself” or are mindless monsters, but even with that logic, I don’t think a mindless monster would make out with a severed head.

Even with Vefve’s statement of not liking the fic or au, she still mentions it a lot and even made art of the kiss scene, which discourages me to believe that she was honest about it.

Mischaracterization and Chrisken (christopher x kennith)

Probably the most prevalent excuse Vefve gives for defending this ship is that she “changed the characters” so the relationship isn’t as toxic as it would, and with that, fully mischaracterizing the two characters.

Vefve has changed Christopher to a “dominant nonchalant charismatic charmer” while Kennith is a “Sweet innocent boy”. This may be nitpicky of me, or over exaggerating their recharactsrizations, but I just personally dislike it. She also characterizes Kennith to be “child like”, which is really odd to me since canonically, he’s an adult and Christopher is still a minor. I know it’s only a one year age gap, but I have more thoughts on the ship itself below.

Now for the ship itself, I’m not a fan at all. Sorry. But don’t take this being the only reason I don’t really like Vefve, as seen above theres more understandable reasons for my distaste other than me being nitpicky. The ship itself doesn’t really work for me, especially by how realistically, it would be really toxic. Toxic ships have a right to exist, but I feel like if it got into the hands of Vefve or people like her, it would be glamorized to hell and back. (pun intended)

Other thoughts

Generally, the very risky and otherwise odd things she post of Christopher and the fanart her fans make her is very jarring, especially knowing the context of Christopher as a character and his age.

The dynamic of Vefve’s version of Chrisken is just really generic and oddly fetishistic. I’m not accusing anything, but being honest, their relationship feels like it was written by a person who just discovered gay people existed. Sorry. That was mean. But I’m trying to give my honest opinion.

Vefve’s behavior towards people who dislike her is somewhat immature for an adult. Yes, I do understand that some people send death threats to her which can be a bit overboard, but Vefve going out of her way to make post about them seems unnecessary if she can just block them.

I don’t like using the word cringe, but Vefve is cringe. Sorry. I genuinely hate using the word cringe by how watered down the meaning became, but I have no other label to think of when it comes to Vefve. Her fans are no different either. Sorry, that was also mean. Please don’t publicly execute me.

These were my honest thoughts on Vefve. I know that I might be dogpiled for even criticizing her for anything, but I feel like someone had so say at least something. If I missed anything, I’ll edit this, but whoever read through this whole thing and agree with me, have a good day. And if you disagree, also have a good day, but if please don’t associate with me.

And if Vefve is reading this, hi, stay cringe, but don’t thirst over canonically minor characters. Thank you.

[pissholesinthesn0w]

On This Night, In This Light - Matty Healy x Reader

well, here it is! the long awaited (by mostly me) Christmas party cheating fic. This is the very idea that brought me to tumblr in the first place, looking to find something similar to this scenario that was truly rotting my brain last holiday season. I had been hesitant to even write it because I wanted to do it justice. A lot of work went into this one, it’s my longest piece I have written, and I think I was able to convey what I wanted to. Anyway blah blah I hope you like it. 🎄

also shoutout to everyone who encouraged and helped me with the writing of this!! @theseventyfive, @mattyhealyarmpits, @honeydiveintome, @wreckedandpolemic, @sugar-coat-it & @kate-the1975✊

contains: smut 18+, cheating(ish), unprotected sex, gagging, extremely questionable morals

5.2k words

“I’m so excited for you to meet my family,” Ryan squeezes your leg as he pulls the car into the driveway of his aunt’s house. “Think they’ll like me?” You ask halfheartedly. This was far too much, far too soon. He was never meant to be more than a one night stand; but he was nice enough. Plus, you didn’t have anywhere else to go for Christmas so this seemed like a decent choice.

“Of course, what’s not to like?” He smiles at you, leaning over to kiss your cheek. You smile back reluctantly, watching as he practically launches himself out of the drivers seat, coming over to the passenger side to open your door for you. You stand up, smoothing down your sweater dress. Your boots crunch against the snow as he slams the door shut and grabs your hand.

“Thank you for coming,” he says. “It will be fun, I promise.” He tells you, pushing a stand of hair behind your ear and planting a kiss on your hand. You smile weakly, hoping you could will yourself to make it through the night. You didn’t want to ruin his Christmas. The both of you look up at the house, a mid century modern home that was very impressive. You knew he came from money, but this?

Before you even get to the front door it swings open, an older woman with short, bright blonde hair and cat eye glasses greets you with a smile. “Ryan! Dear I am so happy to see you! Come in, come in,” she motions the both of you and you follow his lead in the doorway. She wraps her arms around his shoulders enthusiastically, swaying the both of them side to side in a giant hug. Ryan tells him your name and she doesn’t hesitate to give you the same great big hug he’d just given your him. She was very friendly, you thought.

“I’m Denise, so pleased to have you both. Please, take off your coat and shoes, you can put them over here,” she walks over to the coat closet where there were already lots of coats hanging. You wondered how many people would be attending this family dinner, it made you feel a little less out of place knowing it wasn’t super intimate. After pulling off your outerwear, Ryan grabs your hand and you make your way into the kitchen.

You see the counter is full of champagne glasses, half full with a pale amber liquid, the smell of delicious food filling your senses. He picks two up and hands you one, lifting his for a cheers. You oblige, taking it and clinking your glasses together. One sip and wow, you’d never tasted champagne so luxurious. As you made your way to the living area at the back of the house, it became very apparent that his family had money money.

You exchange pleasantries with the members of his family, all warm and welcoming. People were still trickling in as you sat next to your Ryan on the couch, thigh to thigh, as he chatted with his cousins about some sports thing you couldn’t care less about. You mostly just smiled and agreed, as you had nothing to add to the conversation. It was feeling stuffy, you tug on the collar of your sweater, fanning your face. The 2 glasses of champagne you’d had was warming you up from the inside out.

A loud, infectious laugh echos from the front of the house as you hear the screen door creak and slam shut. “Is that fucking Matty?” Ryan stands quickly, all but slamming his glass down on the coffee table. You lift your head with curious eyes to see him. That was his cousin Matty? Your boyfriend had talked about him a few times, but you had never expected him to look like this. He seemed to be the most well dressed of the bunch, wearing a crisp white button up with a black tie and slacks. He was at least a few years older, his gray streaked hair was gelled with his sunglasses pushed back. He looked positively stunning without even trying and suddenly you weren’t sure how you’d make it through this dinner. Matty opens his arms gleefully, wrapping them around Ryan’s shoulder. “Missed ya, mate!” Matty exclaims, rubbing his back. “It’s so good to see you,” Ryan says cheerfully, before looking to you and motioning for you to come over.You scramble to your feet, adjusting your skirt and thigh high socks, all too nervous to approach the two of them. “Matty, this is my beautiful- erm-“ “friend!” You cut him off, nodding as your Ryan introduces you by name to Matty, and he sticks out his hand. Your cheeks flush and heat creeps across your chest as you take his hand in yours; large, calloused and completely sure. You feel his gaze burn into you for a beat before he replies.

“Hello, darling, pleasure to meet you.” You feel his eyes rake over your body and in any other circumstance you’d for sure go home with this guy. But you weren't entirely convinced you would be able to resist, even now.

“Nice to meet you, Matty,” you say, shooting him a sweet smile. You look over to Ryan and he’s beet red, embarrassed. You try to will the thoughts away as Ryan and Matty head towards the kitchen, probably to grab another drink. You watch them leave and cannot shake the feeling that this was going to be a night you won’t forget.

You reclaim your spot on the couch, trying to focus on the small talk within the living room, but your mind wanders elsewhere. Your “friend” rejoins you, alone.

“How’re you feeling?” He whispers into your ear, squeezing your thigh. “Good, I’m good. Everyone is super nice, the house is beautiful,” you tell him. And you mean that, you could already tell this family was genuine and you felt so welcome.

“‘Friend’, huh?,” he laughs nervously but you could tell he didn’t find it funny. You shrug. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” You nudge him with your shoulder and he just shakes his head with a sigh. You do feel a pang of guilt in your gut, but you never promised him anything. It’s not your fault he is presumptuous.

You continue in light conversation with some of his family, and your eyes are drawn to Matty as he walks in and sits at the small card table across the room.

You scan the room, trying not to be obvious as you meet his gaze. He takes a drink, looking at you over the rim of his glass with those fucking eyes, half moon and deep brown and wanting. Your cheeks flush and your heart is racing. He made you nervous, too nervous, and the smirk on his face let you know he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

Two could play this game, you thought. You uncross your legs and spread them open slightly, still looking directly at Matty. His eyebrows lift in surprise and he bites his lower lip, shaking his head at you. You watch him finish his drink, Adam’s Apple bobbing in his throat.

This called for more champagne, you thought. You excuse yourself from the conversation and make your way over to the kitchen grab a glass, something to calm your nerves. As you grab another glass, you suddenly feel a presence behind you, dark and looming as you turn your head and see Matty standing way too close.

“S’cuse me, darling,” he muttered as he reaches around you to grab a glass. your feet feel glued to the floor, your brain complete mush as you unable to move or speak. You feel the front of him against your back, solid and warm. You smell his cologne, musky and floral mixed with cigarettes on his breath.

“Oh, sorry,” you mutter, taking a step back and accidentally landing on his foot. “Shit- sorry!” You fumble with the glass and almost spill it all over the counter before he grabs your elbow, steadying you.

“You’re good,” he reassures you, giving your arm a squeeze. “Don’t have to be so nervous, love. Not so cheeky now, are you?” You can hear his smirk as he leans down and whispers to you. Heat pools in your lower belly, the condescension dripping in his voice made you want to drop to your knees and-

“I am not nervous, you just startled me,” you say, straightening your posture and shrugging his hand off of you. His eyes bore into yours, a mischievous shade of brown.

He chuckles, raising his hands. “Oi, she’s fiesty.” Your cheeks burn red. “You seem a bit pent up. How’s my cousin treating you, he taking care of you?” He mutters in your ear.

“What? Yeah, we’re friends, I mean,” you sigh. “He’s sweet, super nice, but-“ you taper off, looking over to Ryan. He was nice, just… boring.

“Oh yeah, he’s great,” Matty nods in agreement, taking a gulp of his drink. “Super nice.” You nod in agreement, distracted by the way his white shirt hugged his shoulders, the tie hanging loosely around his neck. “Goin’ out for a smoke, you coming?”

You look at Ryan again, and he’s lost in conversation with his family. He wouldn’t even notice you’re gone, would he?

”Yeah, sure, let’s go.”

— —

The sun has set in the sky as you stand next to Matty, shivering with your hands in your coat pockets. “Should get a better coat, love.” Matty says.

“I have one, just wouldn’t go well with this outfit,” you motion downwards, showing off your short skirt and socks. You thought it may be too much for a family dinner, but now you were glad you wore them. Matty lights his cigarette and blows out the smoke. He looked positively gorgeous in the warm glow of the Christmas lights. You wanted to memorize everything about him, every curve, every shadow.

“Very nice outfit,” Matty chokes out, looking off into nowhere.

“So where’s your girlfriend?” You ask, feeling warm and bold as the alcohol settles into your bloodstream.

Matty sighs, “don’t have one at the moment. On tour, very busy, don’t have much time,” he rattles on, and a wave of excitement fills you.

“No fuck buddies?”

“Nah, been there, done that. Too much work to keep up. Is that what you and him are? Fuck buddies?” He motions toward the house.

You snort, looking down as you play with the hem of your skirt. “No, no. Well, sort of, I guess. Like I said, he’s a nice guy.”

“But he doesn’t fuck you properly?” Matty asks, nonchalantly as he takes another drag from his cigarette, cheeks hollowed. You stare at the red glow and you almost choke on your spit.

“Would you be quiet?!” You half whisper, eliciting a cheesy smile from Matty. “Relax, everyone’s doing their own thing, they’re not paying attention to us. You didn’t answer the question, by the way.”

You exhale. “No, not really.”

“That’s a shame, darling.” Matty drops his cigarette and stomps it into the cement with his boot.

You look in the window behind him, you grab his arm and drag him over to the side of the yard, out of sight.

“Whoa, where you taking me love?” Matty asks playfully, letting you take him where you please.

“You gotta stop calling that unless you want me to fall in love with you, I’m serious,” you shake your head at him, in slight disbelief of the situation you got yourself in.

He laughs and your heart skips a beat. Without thinking, you fall into him, pushing him against the side of the house and crash your lips into his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he runs his hands up your back, returning your kiss with fervor. Heat runs through you as you swallow his moans, trying to keep quiet. “Tryin to shag me in the yard, dirty girl,” he mumbles.

“Not in the yard, what kind of girl do you take me for?” You say, catching your breath.

“A very hot girl,” Matty laughs. He was such a man. “Seriously, what about your erm, friend? Won’t he be upset?”

“Can we not talk about him for five minutes? I should be getting back inside though. He’s going to notice we’re both gone.” You say, rubbing your lip gloss off of his lower lip with your thumb. He grips your hand firmly. and takes your thumb into his mouth, wrapping his soft lips around the digit and you freeze. You have to stop yourself from letting out a moan, because dear god he was so sexy. You feel his tongue swirl around your finger and your knees almost buckle.

“Fuck,” you mutter, eyes wide in disbelief as he pulls your thumb out with a pop. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, adjusting his pants to hide his growing bulge. “That all it takes to get you worked up, huh?” You tease, running your fingers through your hair and adjusting your clothing so it doesn’t look like you were just making out with someone.

“So you’re saying if I feel you up under your skirt, your little panties won’t be soaked, sweetheart?” Matty asks casually and doesn’t let you answer. “Back in, let’s go. You go first.”

You don’t have it in you to argue at the moment. You make your way back inside, peeling off your coat and you can hear Ryan’s laugh from across the room, great. He spots you.

“Hey babe!” He practically shouts at you, his loud mouth giving you the feeling he’s quite tipsy already. You smile weakly as you make your way to him. He throws his arm around your shoulder. “Beautiful, isn’t she?” He asks no one in particular as you hear the screen door shut. It was Matty, and all you could do was hope he would just ignore you both. But, you wouldn’t be so lucky.

“Gorgeous,” Matty chimes in. “How’d you guys meet?” He asks curiously and you want to run away and hide. Instead you take a seat on the empty couch.

“We were in the same lit class, took a few times to get her to agree to go out with me but she finally said yes. Hard to get, this one,” he says and you roll your eyes.

Matty chuckles. “Now look at you, oh to be young and in love.”

“Well-“ you start before Denise calls everyone in for dinner, and you thanked god for it. Ryan grabs your hand and you take your seat at the table. To your dismay, Matty pulls out the chair next to you and sits down, wiggling his eyebrows at you and you let out a sigh, more dramatic than you intended and Ryan asks if you’re ok.

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” you smile. You’re very aware of the way Matty’s boot is touching the side of yours, your nerves alight with the smallest point of contact.

— —

Dinner was great, everything went fine as you all ate, you’d catch Matty’s eye every few minutes and a flood of nerves shot through you, blood rushing hot in your veins. You play with the hemline of your sweater and realize you need a moment to yourself, a moment to breathe without prying eyes on you.

“Hey, where’s the bathroom?” You ask Ryan, and he points to the stairs. “Want me to take you?” He asks, running his hand up your thigh and you slap him away.

“No, I can find it. Be back,” you say, giving his shoulders a quick squeeze as you make your way to the staircase. You look over at Matty and he takes a big gulp of his drink, his eyes dark and sinister over the rim of the glass.

You shut the bathroom door behind you and catch yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed pink and your lip gloss was the slightest bit smudged. You feel brazen and peel your underwear off, the fabric sticking uncomfortably to you with your wetness.

There’s a knock on the door and before you can say anything it swings open, Matty standing casually in the hallway. “Hello?” You say, trying to act surprised that he followed you up here.

“Hi, sweets,” he smiles, looking down directly at your soaked panties in your hand. “What do you have there?” He asks, leaning against the doorframe. His lips curve into a smile as he sees you weigh your options for a second before pulling him inside and shutting the door quietly.

“You’re a little minx, aren’t you? Sitting all pretty up here waiting for me while my whole family is downstairs,” he teases, taking a step toward you. “Filthy girl.” He grabs the soaked fabric from your hand and shoves it in his pocket. You shudder, the anticipation growing in your gut as he rolls up the his sleeves, revealing a littering of tattoos.

“Maybe,” you ponder, squeezing your thighs together.

He cages you in, hands on either side of you and presses you up against the wall, his body firm. “Tell me to fuck off, and I will,” he breathes into the shell of your ear before planting a soft kiss on your jawline, causing your knees to buckle underneath you.

“No,” you mutter, and he hums in response, grabbing your hips and digging his fingers in. “Want me to fuck you, sweet girl?” A flood of arousal gushes out of you, thighs turning sticky with your honey. You nod feverishly and Matty falls to his knees, calloused hands run up the backs of your thighs and involuntarily your hips buck forward, ready to give him all of you.

“Can I?” He asks, looking up at you through thick lashes while he plays with the hem of your skirt. “Please, please,” you beg, fighting the urge to grab his head and shove it between your legs. “Been thinking about this since I saw you with these fucking stockings,” he runs his hands up your legs before pushing up your skirt, admiring you for a moment. “Aw, look how wet you are darling, should’ve just said so. Really would’ve fucked you right out on the lawn,” he teases and licks a broad stripe up your center.

You grip onto the side of the sink, letting out a sharp moan that you instantly knew was too fucking loud given the circumstances. “Shh, shh, you’ve got to be quiet, can you do that for me?” Matty asks, littering kisses on your inner thighs. “M’sorry, I’ll be quiet, promise,” you breathe and he dives back in and kisses your cunt before running his tongue along your folds, moaning into you as he tastes you. “Sweet little cunt, I’d be devouring you every single fuckin’ night,” he mumbles, circling his tongue around your swollen bud and giving it a harsh suck before sliding a finger inside of you. “Oh my god,” you grab his shoulders and he pushes your right leg up against the wall to spread you open even more. Your vision goes hazy as pleasure consumes you. He sets a teasing pace as he fingers you, slipping one more in before he curls them just right and he looks to you for your response, smug look on his face that made it obvious he knew exactly what he was doing. “Right there?” He asks as he hits that spot inside of you over and over again. Pleasure blooms inside of you as he picks up his pace, filthy wet sounds filling up the bathroom. His mouth is insistent on your clit, alternating between sucking and licking, moaning into you as his fingers never relent.

Your leg underneath you shakes as you struggle to keep yourself upright. “I’ve got you,” he says, pulling out of you and helping you lower your leg, giving your ass a quick squeeze before he is on his feet again, crashing his lips into yours as he pushes you into the wall even more, you can feel him hard against you, straining against his trousers. He runs his hands up back under your sweater and you feel him unhook your bra, a motion you could tell he’d done many times given how easily he got it open. He grabs a handful of your breast, squeezing gently and you sigh, throwing your head back as he rubs his thumb over your peaked nipple. “Off, off,” you breathe as you feverishly pull off your sweater and toss it haphazardly across the bathroom tile. “Beautiful,” he says, admiring you as he kisses your tits. His hot mouth wraps around one nipple, tongue running along your sensitive bud, thumb pinching and tweaking the other. You run toe fingers through his hair, pushing him into you more. His teeth graze your skin and your body jerks, you feel his smile against your flesh.

You snake your hand between your bodies and rub against his bulge, a shuddering breath leaving lips. “Fuck, s’good,” he groans as he moves up to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin and some sick part of you hoped it would leave marks.

“I wanna suck you off,” you whisper, pulling his face up to meet yours, licking into his mouth as you continue to rub his hard cock under his pants. He lets out a sharp breath. “Yeah? Gorgeous girl wants to suck my dick? Yeah, ok, get me out, darling,” he looks down as you sink to your knees slowly, eyes about glazed over while you fumble with his belt. “This off too, please, want to see you,” you tug on the bottom of his shirt and he obliges, unbuttoning each button with nimble fingers while you watch. He shrugs off his shirt and your jaw drops, his inked skin and making him even more attractive than he was before. He was lean but fit, tight muscles and the littering of hair below his navel shot heat right through you.

You trace the outline of his hip tattoo, a beautiful blue rose that read we are kings.

“Look at you,” you say under your breath, quickly losing focus of the task at hand. He threads his fingers through your hair and he undoes his buckle with one hand. You pull his pants and underwear down in one go and his cock springs free; thick, tip red and leaking and just beautiful. You never thought you would say that about a man’s dick but it just made sense, it matched the rest of his body.

“Shh, shh, here- open up,” he ruts forward and rubs his length against your cheek and your eyes flutter closed. He taps the head of his cock against your lips and you oblige, letting him enter your warm and waiting mouth. He felt warm and heavy on your tongue, the velvety skin sliding in and out as you bob your head on his length. “Fuck, baby, feels s’good,” he moans, looking down at you in awe. This is definitely not what he expected to happen tonight. You hum around him at the sweet praise, swallowing every bit of precum he gives you. You take a deep breath through your nose before you take him deeper, surpressing a gag as his tip hits the back of your throat, your nose pressing against his dark hair.

The groans leaving his lips make you woozy, forgetting everything in that moment as all you want to do is make him feel good. You look up at him with tears brimming your lash line, and what a view, you thought. His hair was disheveled, his sweat sheened skin flushed pink, his brows furrowed in concentration as he tries not to spill down your throat.

You lift off and wrap your hand around him, slick with your spit as you stroke him. You touch his balls with your other hand, massaging them at the same time. “Perfect girl,” he coos at you, admiring your fucked out face and heaving chest. “I want you,” you sigh, eyes wide and innocent as you look up at him.

“Want me to fuck you? Yeah? How do you want me?” You turn around to bend over and rest your arms on the sink, grinding your ass against him with a sway of your hips. You can see him admiring you in the mirror, running his finger through your wetness. You shudder at the feeling, being so vulnerable for what was essentially a complete stranger; but you felt safe with him.

Matty reaches down into his pocket for his wallet, pulling out a shiny condom package.

“Wait, I-“ you pause. “I’m on the pill, in case you just want to,-“

Matty lets out a deep sigh, the thought of being inside of you and feeling you making his heart beat out of his chest. “Yeah, ok sweet girl.” His voice is soft, bent over and breathing in your ear, searching your eyes in your reflection for confirmation.

“Please,” you breathe, every ounce of shame has vanished from your body at this point. All you could focus on was feeling him inside of you, all of him.

“Please, please fuck me, I need it” you babble mindlessly. Matty runs his tip along your folds, nudging against your aching clit and finally starts to push in. The stretch was all consuming; pain mixed with pleasure that seemed to separate your mind from your body. You held onto the sink like your life depended on it, the only thing keeping you from floating away.

“That’s it,” Matty praises as he pushes in more, all the way until you’re completely enveloping him. “Perfect fit, you feel so fucking good wrapped around me” he whispers, hands running along the curve of your ass as he grabs a handful of flesh, kneading it. “Fuck, Matty,”

“You’ve got to stay quiet, yeah?” You nod your head, mouth hanging open as he fucks into you. Matty stills inside of you, a loud burst of laughter from downstairs reminds you exactly what you were doing.

He pulls out of you and you whine at the loss. “Matty, what-“ you see him stand back up with his black tie in his hand. “I can’t have you moaning and groaning, sweetheart,” he states plainly, crumpling the fabric into a ball. “Here, it’s for your own good,” he holds it up to your lips and you open. He shoves his tie into your mouth and you groan, now muffled by the fabric. Your eyes are wide as you nod at him, breathing through your nose.

He lines himself up and pushes all the way in with sharp thrust, you clench around him as he starts to move, his fingers digging into your hips. “Don’t think your little boyfriend would like this, would he?” He spits, venom dripping from his tongue. “Little slut needed a real man to rail her in the bathroom at his family Christmas party, god you’re fucking filthy,” he groans on and you’re rendered speechless; half from the tie in your mouth and half from his dirty words and his cock hitting that spot deep inside of you. Normally his inflated ego would turn you off, but something about it coming from him just spurred you on even more. Unlike most men you’ve been with, he was able to back it all up. You nod feverishly at him, admiring his reflection in the mirror, cheeks and chest flushed pink and pupils blown wide with lust.

Matty leans forward, his chest to your back and brings his fingers to your clit, rubbing mind numbing circles over your swollen bud as he continues to split you in half with his relentless thrusts, hips slamming into you. You can’t hold back your moan, your cunt clenching tightly around his cock. “You like that?” Matty asks, already knowing the answer as your eyes cross from pleasure, pressure building in your lower belly with every stroke of his fingers. The fabric in your mouth was all but dripping down your chin, not doing much now to quiet the noises he was drawing out of you.

“You gonna cum around my cock, darling? C’mon, milk me with this tight little cunt, that’s right,” he grunts into your ear and that’s what throws you over the edge completely; white hot pleasure consuming you, vision blurry as your mind goes completely blank, waves of euphoria pulsing through your body. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Matty grunts, face crumpled and pained as he swiftly pulls out of you to stroke himself, abs tense he cums all over your ass, white ropes painting your soft skin. You arch your back and push up into him, him squeezing the remnants of his orgasm out, slapping his softening dick against your cunt.

You spit out his tie, the sopping fabric landing in the porcelain sink. “Oh my fucking god,” you breathe, trying your best to not collapse into the floor, your body completely drained. “You’re unreal.” Matty is looking at you, his lips curling into a soft smile and you feel a pang in your stomach. Was it guilt, or something else?

“Here, let me clean you up,” Matty says, pulling up his pants and putting himself away. You watch as he grabs a hand towel from the closet and runs it under warm water. Ryan never did this for you, you thought.

“How are we going to get out of this, exactly?” You ask, somewhat rhetorically. Matty just chuckles, wiping the warm towel over your bottom. “Stop doing all that thinking, darling. I hate it when you do that,” he says playfully, pulling your skirt back down. You stand back up straight, all of a sudden feeling insecure just standing with your tits hanging out. He hands you your bra and sweater.

“Relax, bet he didn’t even notice we’ve been gone,” he says confidently, but you weren’t so sure. You had no idea how long it had actually been.

“I think I should just leave, I’ll tell him I’m not feeling good. I’ll get an Uber home.” You tell Matty. It was true, you really weren’t feeling super great about what you’d just done. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to regret it, because it really was just that good.

“How about this,” Matty says, digging his car keys out of his pocket. “Take these, go out the side door and wait for me in my car. I’ll say my goodbyes downstairs and I can drive you home. Trust me, Ryan’s got to be so piss drunk by now he won’t even realize. He’s always like this at family gatherings.”

”Ok, yeah, sure. Thanks,” you grab his keys from him, he grabs your wrist and pulls you close. “Least I could do, love” he says before he takes your head in his hand and kisses you gently, butterflies swirling in your stomach at his tenderness. A far cry from the way he was fucking you just 5 minutes ago.

“I told you, stop calling me that unless you want me to fall in love with you, Matty,” you exasperate, pulling your boots back on.

“Maybe I do.”

[boldlyvoid]

Sweet Nothing

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: Penelope made a friend on the internet over covid who just so happens to live in the same town Dr. Reid just got a new job... and playing Cupid is her favourite thing in the world

Warnings: strangers to lovers, meet cute, 40-year-old virgin Spencer, Virgin reader (late 20's/early 30's), picnics, food mention, lots of Taylor Swift references, first times, Spencer is on anti-depressants, oral sex fem receiving, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, sweet sex, lots of communication

Word Count: 12.6

Making friends on the internet was never easy… it always came with its own set of unique difficulties. People lie, anyone could be secretly crazy and when actions don’t really have consequences on the web, they can get crazier. 

That being said, Y/N has recently made a wonderful friend in a woman named Penelope. 

Penelope’s Tumblr page was pretty normal, very pink and vibrant and happy, but normal nonetheless. She’s in her early 40s, an internet veteran, an ex-employee at the FBI and known for creating a brand new, very safe, social media platform for young people. She was very easy to trust, very forward and easy to open up to as well, which made the two of them bond instantly. 

And despite the age difference and the long distance, Y/N would consider Penelope to be her best friend. 

She knew everything about her from her favourite colour to her hope and dreams and favourite singer… and also the fact she was a virgin well into her adult life and dying to get out there. They’ve spent most of their friendship discussing their equally awful dating lives, would-be lovers and almost hookups. Both women have tried time and time again to find love, however, nothing ever seemed to work out… until the day Penelope got an idea. 

“I have a friend…” Penelope leads, something sinister in her eyes. “And he’s single and pretty cute, too…” 

“Do you have a crush?” Y/N lights up thinking this is a happy moment for Penelope. “Oh my god, Penny tell me all about him!!”

“Well, no, actually… I want to set you up with him,” she explains further, in a much softer tone. “He’s so soft and sweet and a few years younger than me… and still a virgin.” 

Her eyes grow impossibly wide and her jaw drops momentarily, “you’re kidding?”

“Nope.” 

“Wow,” she takes a moment to soak it all in. She sits back in her chair and lets her shoulders drop as she thinks about it. And for once, Penelope is quiet too. “How much older than me is he?” 

“He’s 41… which I know it’s a lot older than you but he’s what you’re looking for and you’d be so perfect for him. He’s so wonderful and he’s waited for so long to find someone who wouldn’t judge him and I know you’d love everything about him if I told you everything but I want you to meet him and find out for yourself… sorry, that was a lot.” 

“No, no, that’s okay,” she actually loved when Penelope went on little rants like that. “I just don’t really have the funds to fly to Virginia right now—

“That’s another reason why he’s perfect for you, he’s moving to Reno next week!!!” Penelope can’t help but shake her hands with excitement while her voice raises at least a pitch if not 3. 

“Is this the same friend who’s already from Nevada?” Her eyes light right up like a cat staring at a laser… she’s seen photos on Penelope’s personal Facebook, everything from selfies in new glasses to the parties with friends  and throwbacks from working at the FBI… “doctor what’s-his-name?” 

“Spencer, yeah oh my god? I can’t believe you remember him?” Penelope asks and she just shrugs, “See, this is why you’re perfect for Spencer, he talks a lot like I do, only about much smarter things but you’d be able to keep up.” 

“I’d love that, actually,” she swoons, feeling slightly embarrassed about how the possibility of having a boyfriend makes her so giddy. “I’d love to listen to someone talk about what they love and just sit there and look at them…” 

“Perfect, I tell you! Perfect!!” Penelope exaggerates, “he’s moving in a few days but all his things are already there. The department paid for his relocation and everything, I’m so surprised he actually decided to go this time, he’s been thinking about it forever.” 

“Ask him if he wants some help unpacking when he does get here and I’d love to give him a hand,” she agrees fully, taking a leap of faith and seeing where this could go without the fear of the unknown weighing her down. 

—

She shows up at Spencer's apartment 2 days after he arrives in Reno, a bottle of Welcome to the Neighbourhood sparkling cider and an assortment of muffins in her arms, thinking it would be quick and easy for him to take the muffins to work over the next few days, unlike a flower arrangement he didn’t need taking up space in his downsized apartment. 

She takes a deep breath before she knocks, her knuckles are barely off the door when he opens it. She barely has a moment to prepare before she’s smacked with the realization that this man is very handsome and incredibly smart… and so, so intimidating. 

“Hi,” he smiles at her. “Is that— you didn’t need to bring anything?” 

She looks down at the basket she’s holding and then back up to see those beautiful brown eyes, “I know… sorry, um, Hi, welcome to the neighbourhood,” she hands him the basket with the best smile she can muster, slightly embarrassed to be so flustered by the mere sight of him. 

“Thank you, come in,” he steps out of the doorway so she could walk in, he steps away from the door completely and sets the basket on a moving box. “Sorry, it’s a mess, the movers just put the boxes wherever they wanted, so I’ve been reorganizing where they were supposed to go,” Spencer explains, gesturing to the room around them. 

“It’s okay, that’s why I’m here,” she’s cheery as she shuts the door and starts to take her coat off. “Can I just leave this over here?” 

“Yeah, actually—“ he reaches for the closet door, “I found the box with hangers first so you could hang your coat when you got here.” 

“She said you were a genius,” Y/N teases, holding her coat up so he could slip the hanger inside and hang it on the bar. She sets her purse down inside the closet too, just for safekeeping. 

“I hope she hasn’t talked me up too much,” he’s honest with his fears. “I’m afraid I’m actually quite average, maybe tilted towards the strange side…” 

She gives him another smile, but ultimately shakes her head, “Don’t worry, she didn’t tell me anything really personal. I only really know about you from stories she’s told me about her old job, but nothing in detail… I was just starting to get to know her when you were hospitalized before the pandemic and she was by your side a bunch so she wasn’t online and I was actually worried something happened to her 'cause she’s never that quiet.” 

“Oh, yeah, that was awful,” he agrees, pressing his lips together awkwardly while he thinks about it. But then he takes a deep breath and his shoulders drop. “So I was thinking we could start in the kitchen? I’ve found most of the boxes.” 

“Yeah, lead the way,” she says, following him through the front room to the living room that was connected to the kitchen by means of an archway. “Oh wow,” she muses aloud, “this is going to be nice to decorate…” 

“You think?” He looks a mix of worried and confused, “I have no idea what to do with the place.” 

“I’m sure once we start taking out all your things we’ll figure something out,” she knows she can make a room out of anything, it's how she decorates her classroom each September. Just with sheer will and pure hope.

“I had to downsize a lot to come here, I donated most of my books so I wouldn’t cost the department a fortune moving them out, but I still have a lot,” he shares, both proud and a little embarrassed that 50% of his boxes are for books. “I don’t have many personal things or decorations… I honestly wasn’t in my last place enough to make it feel homey.” 

“You’ll be here often, though, right?” She asks, selfishly, she can already see them becoming somewhat good friends and she wants to be able to see him regularly. 

He nods, “Yeah, I’m going to be working with the sex crimes unit, 9 to 5 every day unless there’s a big case,” he explains. “Like human trafficking or a pedophile ring or something, but I doubt I’ll see an overwhelming number of those right now, it’ll be nice to downsize to just a city instead of dealing with the entirety of The United States.”

“I have 4 different groups of teenagers that I teach, which is like 120 kids alone, I can’t imagine being principal and having a thousand kids to watch out for,” she can relate it back. “I’m sure this will be less stressful for you… still awful sometimes but—

“But I’m good with stress,” he assures her. “Especially this kind of stress. You know, when I first started at the BAU I had a co worker who transferred over from sex crimes in New York, she actually had a great time cause she got to kick some creeps ass every now and then.” 

“Oh that’s cool, I guess,” she tries not to be jealous, knowing he’s probably had lots of meaningful relationships with women throughout his life, but that’s not going to stop him from getting to know her. 

She grabs a box that says mugs and lifts it to the edge of the counter island instead of dwelling on these bubbling feelings for who is essentially, a stranger. “Which cupboard did you want the mugs to go in?” 

“Uh,” he gets nervous then. “I have about 3 boxes of mugs… so wherever they fit?” 

“Sounds good,” she can’t help but smile, it was cute. “Do you like to collect them or something?” 

“Kinda,” he reaches into his pocket and takes out an exacto-knife, handing it to her so she can open the cardboard box. She pushes the knife out of its plastic sheath and starts to cut along the tape seam. 

The first mug she pulls out is a pink octopus, “oh, this is so cute?” 

“That’s Mildred,” he can’t help but smile, “I got that from Penelope on her last day at work.” 

“Oh,” she holds it to her chest in a sweet hug. “I can’t wait for her to come and visit, I just know she gives amazing hugs.” 

“Actually, she hugged me before I left and said that I was supposed to pass it along to you at some point…” he looks at her softly, slightly terrified. “Which is strange 'cause she knows I don’t like touching and we’ve never met before but for some reason, she knew I’d still want to hug you upon meeting you…” 

She can’t help but laugh, placing the mug down on the counter, “is that an invitation?” 

He nods, opening his arms and allowing her to step into his space. She wraps her arms around his middle and holds him close, feeling his large hands on her shoulder and upper back, his thumb lightly caressing the fabric of her shirt. 

She stays there in the hug for a moment and then pulls back, “I’ll be sure to tell her that you passed that along.” 

“Good,” he’s smiling like an idiot, bright red and flustered, falling head over heels for her already. 

At least, the little voice in her head thinks so. Making her smile back at him with the same giddy hopefulness that she’s longed for most of her life. 

—

He feels like the most awkward person in the whole fucking world. Hiding away in the living room to unbox something alone and give himself a moment of anxiety without having to play it cool in front of her any longer. 

She’s pretty, she’s nice, she smells like honey and happiness and new beginnings… Penelope raved about her for days when she heard he was moving to Reno and now he can see why. 

Y/N is amazing… it’s almost too good to be true.

She’s in his kitchen humming while she unpacks box after box of his dishes, moving around his new space like she was always meant to be here too. Like she’s a ghost or an extra piece of the pre-furnished listing. Like it was hers first. 

He can’t quite place what song it is that she’s humming, but it’s nice. He wanders over to the archway and leans against it, watching her in admiration as she slides some more mugs to the back of a shelf. He knows he wants to ask her out for real. Not just as friends, not just for help or convenience but because his aura is drawn to hers and the colour they could make together has never been made before. 

When she turns around to grab another mug she’s startled by his presence in the doorway, “gosh,” she gasps and places her hand on her chest to get over the initial shock. “What the heck, Spencer?” 

“Sorry, it’s just…” he licks his lips and thinks it over before saying it, “It’s so nice to have you here… it feels right.” 

“Oh,” she softens, he can see a weight lift off her shoulders and her eyes glimmer under the lights. “Thank you, thats the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me?” 

“Would you want to go on a real date, tomorrow?” He can’t help but ask. “I know Penelope was hoping for us to date and I hate that she’s always right but, I would really like to go on a date with you.” 

“Yeah, absolutely,” she makes her way around the counter and over to be closer to him. “I’d love that, what do you want to do?” 

“Um,” he really didn’t think that far ahead… “can I surprise you?” 

“Sure,” she gives him the sweetest, most hopeful smile that makes his heart swell. 

“Is there anything you don’t like? Or are allergic to? Anything I should avoid?” He can’t help but ask. The last thing he wants is to surprise her with something that makes her distance herself from him. It’s happened too many times before. 

She shakes her head, “not that I can think of?” 

“Okay,” he smiles at her, stepping into her space more. “I found my Alexa that Penelope got me years ago, did you want me to put on that song you were humming?” 

She looks like a dear in the headlights, she clearly forgot he could hear her when she was humming. “Oh, um… no? I don't think you’d like the song.” 

“It sounded nice when you were humming?” 

“It’s embarrassing…” 

“What is it?” 

She sighs and gives in, “Taylor Swift has this song that I listen to when I dream about the life I want and it’s been stuck in my head all day cause I’m in your kitchen… and the lyric is outside they’re pushing and shoving but you’re in the kitchen humming, all that you ever wanted from me was Sweet Nothing…” 

“That’s not embarrassing,” his heart swells. “Penelope is a matchmaker, has she ever told you about all the couples she created at the FBI? She’s responsible for 5 marriages and by proxy about 10 babies.” 

“Wow,” Y/N’s a bit taken aback by that. “So you’re saying she’s like Cupid?” 

He nods, “Or she’s able to see fate's design a lot better than us.” 

“One hug? That’s all it took?” She teases him. 

“A few mugs?” He teases right back. 

“Hey, you can tell a lot about a person by what they hoard,” she bites back, trying not to smile too hard. 

He just shakes his head and backs up, headed back to the living room with her in tow. “Hey Alexa, what’s the Taylor Swift song that says you’re in the kitchen humming.” 

“That would be Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Midnights By Taylor Swift, released October—“ the British man's voice comes booming from the small speaker only to be cut off.

“Hey Alexa play Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift,” he orders with a smirk plastered to his face. 

“Okay, here’s Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Amazon Music.” 

Within the first few notes, he knows this is going to be their song. He extends his hand to her, silently asking her to dance even though he doesn’t really know how… and by design or some exquisite happenstance, she takes it. 

With one hand in hers, his other hand lands on her hip while her extra hand is placed ever so gently on his shoulder. Chest to chest, eye to eye, they smile and sway along to the flow of the tune. Her hand squeezes around his own slightly tighter, the tune matches exactly how she was humming in his own kitchen and then he hears the lyric she mentioned. 

They said the end is coming,

Everyone's up to something,

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings.

Outside, they're push and shoving,

You're in the kitchen humming,

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.

He spins her around making her laugh as she crashes back into his chest and holds him tighter. She wraps her arm around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder. The music is loud, but his thoughts are louder. He wants everything this song mentions but with her. Only her. And it’s been only an hour and a bit that he’s known her. He doesn’t even really know her but he craves to. 

“Do you write poems?” He asks after the song mentions them. 

She shakes her head, “no, but I know you read a lot of them… do you write them too?” 

He nods, “Sometimes… maybe I’ll make you one.” 

“I’ll probably cry,” she admits. 

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

She is soft-hearted. She’s sweet and kind and wonderful, too. She tilts her head to the side to rest against his own. Now cheek to cheek, he lets out a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding. She hums along to the song, just soft enough for him to hear, not quite on key, but it’s endearing. 

They’re quiet for the rest of the song and keep swaying, knowing it’s going to end soon and they’re going to have to pull away. They don’t want to… luckily the song is on a loop. It starts right back up and so they don’t pull away. 

—

His place is still a mess when he gets ready to leave the next morning. After their dance, she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on unpacking and he knew he’d be too tempted to hold her all night long… so she went home. He helped her into her coat, he hugged her goodbye and she left, taking a piece of his heart with her. 

He’s not as used to Reno as he was with DC, but one look at the map and he was able to find the grocery store quite easily. He walks there because he opted not to bring his shitty car with him. He sold it with the promise of looking for a new one here in Nevada, but it was actually a lot nicer to walk in a sunny place like this. And on days when it’s not as nice, taxis exist for a reason. He really didn’t need a car, anymore. 

He didn’t realize how much he missed Nevada until now. 

He spent a lot of last night thinking about what he wanted to do for their date and came up with the splendid idea of a picnic. The first thing he did was call Penelope, it wasn’t too late for her back in DC, so he didn’t feel too bad, but he had to ask her some questions. He wanted everything to be perfect. She talked his ear off and then gave him an extensive list of the things she knows Y/N likes from past conversations, it turns out they’ve spent a bit of time talking about snack foods and it was finally coming in handy. 

He comes back to his newly unpacked kitchen with bags of groceries, he prepares sandwiches on croissants and cuts up cheese and puts them on toothpicks with fancy slivers of meat… and he bought some new Tupperware so the meats and cheese can be in one and the fruit he bought can be in another. He bought her favourite drinks and some cute disposable cups to put them in because he didn’t have anything other than coffee mugs, which he was sure she wouldn’t mind, but he did. 

He wanted this to be perfect for her. 

All while he was packing their picnic basket, he listened to Taylor’s music, thanks to Penelope he had a playlist of her favourites to get himself caught up on them and ended up liking most of them himself. Especially one called Maroon. The lyrics are so powerfully written and wondrously sung, it’s as if a heart-stopping novel was put to music and all told within 3 minutes and 38 seconds. Taylor Swift is a genius, that much her lover got right in sweet nothing. What a mind, indeed. 

Just a little past her apartment, there is a little park with a lovely field of flowers beside it. It’s a perfect spot for a picnic, so once he’s finished packing their picnic, he sets off on a walk to her apartment, thinking a walk to the park together would only add to the ambiance of the day. 

He makes it to her place a little before 11, like he told her he would, and spends a few seconds in the hallway to catch his breath and fix his hair before he knocks. And when he does knock, it’s 3 times and he hits the wood pretty hard with his knuckles. Inside, it’s pretty quiet and then he hears her call out, “Just a sec!!”

He waits patiently for a minute or two and then she wipes the door open while putting in an earring, “Sorry, I didn’t realize what time it was.”

She’s breathtaking. She’s all dolled up and it’s all for him. He can’t believe it. 

“That’s okay,” he manages to breathe out, leaving his mouth hung open as he stares. 

She just smirks and reaches out for him, touching his chin and redirecting his jaw closed. “You don’t want to catch flies…” 

He blushes, uncontrollably, and bows his head, bashful as ever. “Sorry, you just look beautiful… I’m not used to someone getting all dolled up for me.” 

She lets out a huff of breath through her nose, settling all her nerves, her shoulders drop and she stares at him like he’s the only man in the whole world. “You’re so sweet, I almost can’t believe you’re real.” 

“That feeling is mutual,” he assures her. 

She finally looks down at his hands to see him holding a picnic basket. “Oh my god, are we going to have a picnic?” She lights right up. 

He nods, “is that okay?” 

“Okay? It’s perfect, Spencer!” She’s so excited and it’s real. She’s not playing it up or anything. She’s genuinely over the moon. “Let me just put on my shoes and grab my purse, you can wait in here.” 

“Okay,” he steps inside and closes the door behind himself as she runs off into he bedroom.  

It’s a small apartment. Her bedroom and bathroom are separate rooms, but the kitchen, living room and the washer and dryer are all exposed. She has it set up really nicely, it’s warm and inviting and happy and he could see himself making a home on her couch in the upcoming weeks of getting to know her. He couldn’t wait to learn about her favourite shows and movies and books. He wanted to hear all about her family and friends and co-workers, even her favourite students and the ones who irked her. He wanted to hear about it all. He wants to know her favourite colour and how she likes her pizza and her pasta and what her favourite baked good is. There’s an endless amount of personal things that he can learn, and he wants to know it all. He wants to love it all, too. 

When she returns, she has her shoes on, her purse over her shoulder and a blanket draped over her forearm. “I don’t want to sit on the grass, and I didn’t think you fit a blanket in there…” 

“Oh, shoot,” he looks down at the basket and realizes that was the one thing he forgot. “Yeah, we’re going to need that.” 

“Thought so,” she smirks. She walks back over to the door and grabs her keys, “anything else you need?” 

“Just you,” he replies without thinking it over. 

“Stop being so sweet,” she nudges him, staring up at him like he hung the stars, himself. 

“Or else?” He teases. It’s remarkable how easy it is with her. It just flows out of him like the script was already written between them. 

She steps even closer into his space, “you get a kiss for every compliment,” she says, standing on her tip-toes, she presses her lips to his cheek for 1, 2, 3 seconds of pure bliss. 

She drops back down to her normal height, a smirk plastered to her face, proud of the lipstick stain that’s almost as red as his blushing cheek. She reaches up to wipe it off but he pulls back, “don’t…” he’s adamant. “I want everyone to know you’re mine if you’re going out looking this beautiful beside me.” 

“Okay then.” 

—

Like a real man, Spencer insists on standing closer to the road as they walk along the sidewalk. A few moments into their walk, he transitions the basket to his right side so that his hand that’s closest to her is free and she notices it right away. She has draped the blanket over her left arm, leaving her right hand free… all but begging him to take it. But he’s shy and quiet and he doesn’t know how to just do it. 

So she does. 

She takes his hand in hers and interlocks their fingers, smiling up at him as they keep going forward, “have you ever been to this park?” 

He shakes his head, “No… is it nice? The reviews online said it’s clean and there isn’t a lot of illegal activity there.” 

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, it’s a nice park. Sometimes I hit up the bookstore down here and then I go read in the park. It’s nice in the summer when I have a week off between my regular job at the school and my summer job.” 

“Summer job?” 

She nods, “Mhm, you know, 'cause I only work at the high school when school is in session and I don’t make enough to take two whole months off so each summer I take a new job. Like last summer I worked at a daycare but the summer before that I was at a ladies' clothing store a few streets over.” 

“What are you going to do this summer?” He asks, intrigued. 

“I’m not sure yet… I’m still friends with some of the girls at the daycare so I might go back, but honestly, I’m also thinking of putting in my application for summer school and I might tutor some of the kids that need help graduating,” she explains. “Cause I know how hard it is to try your best and still just not get it. They shouldn’t be punished for having a hard time.” 

“You sound like a wonderful teacher, I’m sure they’d really like to have you in the summer, too,” Spencer compliments. “I was always closest to the kids that didn’t do very well in school. It’s not that I pitted them or felt like I could improve them, I just liked who they were as people, more.”

“They’re lovely kids, they just get pushed to the side because they either learn differently or they can’t do the work at home for whatever reason. And they shouldn’t be punished for that, it’s not their fault that most kids nowadays have to work to help their families or become a second parent to help their younger siblings. They barely have the time to take care of themselves let alone do 5 hours of homework a night,” she rants, “I genuinely hate how the school system is currently.” 

“My nephew is in high school currently and he isn’t having the best time,” Spencer shares. “He calls me for help on his math homework sometimes and it always floors me that even if he got to the right answer, if he didn’t follow the exact formula that the teacher uses then he gets a 0. There are many different ways to solve an equation, and as long as he shows his work it should count.” 

“Exactly!” She raises her voice a little and startles a lady passing them. “It’s frustrating to watch them struggle with shit they’ll never use again unless they’re going into a math-dominated field. It’s not fair.” 

“More kids need a teacher like you,” Spencer says, giving her hand a little squeeze. 

“Why, thank you,” she gleams. “If we weren’t in the middle of the walkway I’d kiss you again…”

“The books store is just up here, you can kiss me in the aisles… if you really want to?” he kids, but not really. She can tell he wants another kiss from her. 

So she drags him into the bookstore, they tell the worker that they’re just looking and perusing the store, calling out the titles they know and rating the backs of the ones that seem interesting until they’re in the back aisle. She turns to him with a smirk, “Are you gonna make me stand on my tip-toes every time, bean sprout?” 

He smirks and places the picnic basket down on the floor so his hands are free, “I could just kiss you, instead, you know?” 

“You wouldn’t be so bold?” She tempts, secretly hoping he will. 

He tentatively reaches out, placing his beautifully soft hand on her cheek and caressing her skin with his thumb before he starts to lean in. She closes her eyes in anticipation, just mere seconds before their lips touch and like the big bang, universes were created in the pitch-black darkness behind her eyelids. Colours she’s never seen before, feelings she’s only read on pages that surround them, and a warmth in her chest that seems so foreign… yet so right. 

He goes to pull away and she leans back in, dropping the blanket in the process to kiss him again and again until his tongue slips past her lips and it's more than just a kiss. It’s the start of something beautiful. Something more than Penelope ever thought possible when her two friends ended up in the same town at the same time. 

They’re brought out of the moment by the sound of a woman clearing her throat, “You actually have to buy something you can’t just make out back here.” 

“Sorry, sorry.”

“I’m so sorry!”

The two of them rush out with equally guilty mugs. She grabs the first book she see’s, “We’ll take this.” 

“I’ll meet you at the register,” the keeper replies rather snidely and over it as she walks away. 

Looking down at the book, it’s a poetry book by an author she’s never heard of before. “You know this one?” 

Spencer shakes his head, “surprisingly, no.” 

She picks up the blanket again, he grabs the basket and the two of them slowly make their way towards the cash. “Sorry, again,” Y/N says, pressing her lips together awkwardly. “I don’t know where that came from, we really just wanted a book for our picnic.” 

“I’ve been in love before, I get it,” she waves it off with a growing smile. “This is a good choice… it’s only 6 dollars as well.”

“I’ve got it,” Spencer steps forward, taking his wallet out of his pocket and handing the woman two 5 dollar bills. “Do you take tips or donations?”

“Always, it keeps the lights on,” she’s happy to take the extra money, exchanging one of the 5’s for 4 1’s and placing them in a jar behind the desk. “Thank you, I hope to see you back here sometime.” 

“Definitely, I’d love to have a real look next time,” Spencer teases as Y/N takes the book. He places his hand on her back, “thank you.” 

“Have a good rest of your day,” she adds for good measure, following Spencer towards the door. 

“You too! And enjoy your picnic!” The lady calls back just before they leave. 

“God,” Y/N scolds herself, “I can’t believe that happened.” 

“Spencer just laughs, “It’s not that embarrassing… believe me, I’ve walked in on much worse.” 

“I can imagine, I mean, Penelope told me about some of your cases,” she says with the roll of her eyes. “I really don’t know how you did it for so long.” 

“Honestly, me either,” he agrees with her there. “How much do you know about me? Because she never told me much about you and I’m worried we’re not on even playing grounds…” 

“Oh, not much!” She tries to sound as believable as possible. “She basically told me you’re a genius, she loves you like a little brother and some little anecdotes like you were shot in the knee once and were on crutches for months and you wear a lot of purple which I’ve also seen in the Facebook photos she has of you… but nothing super personal.”

“Okay, that’s good then… cause she’s seen me at my worst,” Spencer admits as they make their way toward the park entrance

“She was basically big brother to you guys,” Y/N teases. 

Spencer manages to laugh, “Yeah, she was.”

The gates to the park are open, there are children running about cheering with one another while their parents sit on the benches and talk, barely watching on. They pass everyone and head right back to the grassy area behind the playground, past the soccer fields and take cover under a baby Willow tree that still has lots of growing left to do, however, she’s still big enough to cast a good amount of shade on them. 

She lays out the blanket perfectly and takes a seat while Spencer gets down on his knees, placing the picnic basket in front of himself. All while they’re still talking about Penelope. He takes out two plastic champagne flutes and hands them to her first, then he sets out the bubbly drink he got, followed by 4 Tupperware containers. “Speaking of which, I called her last night and she told me about your favourite snacks…” 

“No way?” She can’t believe it. 

He simply nods, a smirk growing, “It would seem you two love food.” 

“Well, it’s always late when we call so she’s seen a lot of my nightly snacks,” She admits. “Is that? No way…” She takes one of the containers and opens it up to find little croissant sandwiches. “You want me to fall in love with you? Don’t you?” 

He’s startled to hear it and she can’t believe she said it. It was forward and real and incredibly honest. But Spencer nods. Of course, he nods. “Yeah, I do.” 

She looks at him like that 'I do' was the big one. The most important one. And to her, it’s almost more important. “Really?” 

“I’ve spent most of my life completely alone, I’m tired… and I’m not settling, not at all, no,” he stutters out and worries he’s offended her. “I just mean, I like you, you’re wonderful already and everything I look for in a person and if you loved me I’d be the luckiest man in the world.” 

“Wow,” she can’t believe it. 

“Sorry—

“No, no,” she reaches out, dropping the container so she could touch his knee instead, “don’t, I’m just shocked, really…” 

“Really?” 

She nods, “Yeah, not many people have just openly told me that they like me let alone want me to love them?” 

“Me either,” Spencer admits. He’s ready to lay his whole heart bare to her. “I really want someone to love me and if that someone was you then I could die happy.” 

“Not on my watch,” she manages to smile. “My love means taking care of you. My love includes worrying and obsessing and making you entirely mine… it’s driven people away before we could even start anything real, I don’t want that to happen here.” 

“It won’t,” Spencer is quick to reply. “It can’t drive me away, it’s exactly what I want… and I want to love you just the same.” 

“You won’t have to try hard,” she teases, smiling up at him. “Come on, get comfortable, grab a sandwich and talk to me. Tell me about yourself and watch it happen.” 

“Okay,” he follows her instructions. 

He gets comfortable on the blanket, taking off his shoes so he can sit crisscross applesauce and he pours them each a glass of sparkling cider. “I’m sober,” he shares first. “I had some drug problems in my 20’s and I find if I avoid all substances, except coffee, then I won’t slip.” 

“Wise man,” she compliments. “I don’t drink either, mostly cause drinking alone is sad and I don’t like how it makes me feel.”

“And I picked this pinky one cause of the line in Paris…” Spencer admits which makes her peak right up. “You know, fake wine makes believe it’s champagne…” 

“Oh my god, you listened to Midnights?” 

He nods, “I went back to listen to Sweet Nothing and thought why not?” 

She can’t help but shake her head and smile, “That’s so cute, you have no idea how cool this is for me. No one I know really likes her, everyone acts too cool for Taylor Swift and then you come in and listen to her on your own accord? That’s— that’s everything to me, Spencer.” 

“I think she’s amazing, well, so far, at least,” he admits. “I’ve only listened to the one album but it was a great album, I particularly enjoyed Maroon.”

“Her track 2’s are always my favourite,” Y/N raves. “She saves track 5 for her personal favourites or songs that mean the most to her, like on Red there’s this one called All Too Well and it’s originally 5 minutes but on the new recording of Red it’s 10 minutes and it’s so good. It’s insanely beautiful.” 

“I can’t wait to listen to it,” he can’t help but smile. “I love listening to you talk about her, you glow.” 

“Here,” she pulls out her phone and headphones from her purse and plugs them in. “We can listen to it now if you want?” 

“Okay,” he agrees, taking an earbud and placing it in his ear while she moves closer to share the other. 

And for 10 minutes they sit there in silence, she eats her sandwich and he listens to the words with the most admiration. The hurt is palpable, the passion is gut-wrenching… he loves it and she can tell from the look on his face. He’s so focused and enthralled. She feels a warmth in her chest that she hasn’t felt before, something in this moment is what makes her really love him. She isn’t just infatuated, he isn’t just cute and nice… he’s special. 

“That was amazing—

“I never want to feel like that,” she whispers, staring at him intently. “don’t break my heart, please.” 

“I don’t plan to?” 

She lets out a deep breath she didn’t mean to hold, “I’ve never dated anyone before because I can’t go through the heartache. She made it seem so fucking awful I never want to feel it.” 

“It’s awful,” he admits, all the hurt he’s experienced comes forth, pooling behind his eyes as tears form. “I was in love only once. She died before I could tell her.”

“Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry,” she can’t believe it. “When?” 

“In 2013.” 

“Have you been single for 10 years?” 

He nods, “Basically. I tried to date before the pandemic but she wasn’t really my type, it was more convenient so it didn’t last.” 

“Oh.”

“This isn’t like that,” he assures. “You’re kind and beautiful and you have a normal job and you make people's lives better… you’ve made Penelope’s life better. You are sunshine—

“Do not call yourself midnight rain I will laugh,” she cuts him off, biting back a smirk.” 

“I wasn’t,” he laughs too, “but it works here, too.” 

“I’m not always sunny,” she adds, making sure he knows that. 

“That’s okay,” he’s fine with it, really. “Even on gloomy days, the sun is just behind the clouds.” 

She can’t believe he just said that. It’s so beautiful and kind and about her? It makes her just stare at him, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out. She doesn’t know what to say. “Oh, man… I’m going to fall in love with you so quickly.” 

“Me too,” Spencer smiles, reaching out to hold her hand. He grips it tight and doesn’t break eye contact with her, “and I’m excited about it.” 

—

He only lives around the corner from her which means they see each other every day for the next week. They wake up at the same time, they get coffee before work, she drops him off at the police station and then she heads to the high school. After school, she goes and picks up something for dinner and he Ubers right to her apartment to eat. They talk well into the night, they listen to music, they watch documentaries and movies and they cuddle… she knows almost everything about him and he knows almost everything about her. He’s going to meet her family in the summer, hopefully, and she’s going to meet Diana in a few weeks. 

Being together is the most fun she’s ever had in her entire life. 

And while they’re not going on dates to get to know each other, they are dating and Penelope is happy about it for the most part. She’s just upset she lost her nightly chats with Y/N on Zoom. They barely even text now. 

When Penny finally does get Y/N on the phone, however, it’s on a night that Spencer has an intense case in Reno. The BAU are back in town… 3 women have died this week, all online sex workers, they never walked the streets and yet that’s where they’ve ended up. It’s heartbreaking. 

“I called him today during his break and he just sounded so defeated, it breaks my heart,” Y/N says with her hand over her chest and pleading eyes, “it’s too bad you’re not working with them again.” 

“Their new tech guy is good,” Penelope assures her, “and he’s got JJ and Luke with him so he’s fine… he’s more than fine, he’s Spencer.” 

She rolls her eyes playfully, “he is fine…” 

“You guys really like each other?” Penelope digs, she wasn’t going to pry and press too many questions but she can’t help herself. 

Y/N nods, “Yeah… I think I love him.” 

“Really?” Penelope lights right up, “Oh my god?” 

“I know! It’s been so nice, we were going to go on another date tonight but, you know, duty calls…” 

“How many have you had so far?” 

“Uh,” Y/N doesn’t really know. “Well, we unpacked boxes last Saturday and then on Sunday we went to the park and I’ve seen him every day this week…”

“I know,” Penelope pretends to be mad about it but she can’t stay fake mad for long. She loves them both too much. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I miss you too, I just like cuddles with my boyfriend more…” 

“Boyfriend?” 

She nods, “Yeah, I think that’s what we are, I mean, we’ve already talked about what we want and he said he wants to fall in love with me so I think that makes us boyfriend and girlfriend?” 

“Spencer said that? Shy, nervous, Spencer Reid?” Penelope can’t believe it. 

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, I guess that’s him… I don’t know, he’s a lot less shy with me.” 

“Have you—

“No, no, not yet,” she waves her hands in front of the screen and looks panicked. “No. We haven’t even talked about it yet.” 

“No?” 

She shakes her head, “No… I mean, I want to and we’ve had some nice make-out sessions but we haven’t done anything more than kiss.”

“Wow,” Penelope is genuinely shocked. “I thought you would’ve jumped him by now.” 

“Hey,” she says with a cheeky smile. “I have self-control… so does he, I guess cause he hasn’t even tried to cop a feel or anything, he’s super reserved.” 

“Well yeah he’s spent 40 years being a virgin,” Penelope says without any malice, she’s just stating a fact. “He’s used to things not going there. I think you have to make the move.” 

“I was thinking that too,” she doesn’t sound excited about it. “I’m just really scared even though I know I shouldn’t be when it’s Spencer. He’s going to be very sweet and he’s already told me he thinks I’m beautiful and I feel it around him… it’s just so nerve-wracking.” 

“I was still a teenager when I had sex the first time and it was so scary, I wish I waited,” she really emphasizes Wish. “I wish I was mature and chose someone good and deserving and I wish he cared about me. But you have all those things right now, it’ll be worth it now.” 

“I know,” she tries her hardest to believe her. “I know it’ll be okay… it’s just the anticipation feels more like anxiety.”

“Which is totally normal, but it’ll go away when it happens, believe me.” 

“I do.” 

—

Spencer's cause goes on another 4 days. She brings him coffee and donuts after work, she meets his friends and ex-collogues and she understands now why he had to get out of it all. Emily is just a few years older than him and fully grey, JJ sneaks out to make phone calls to her family who she doesn’t see as often as she wants and Luke is still single no matter how hard he tries. The job takes things from them. 

She gives him a hug before she leaves each time, never a kiss, that would embarrass him in front of his new co-workers and his old ones would never let him live it down. So he gets just a hug. It’s long, they linger and then she goes home. 

It’s weird being home without him now that he’s been there often. She misses him dearly, every day. All through the weekend, he works. And then the case ends on a Tuesday at 3 in the morning and stays up just for her. He buys them coffee, he walks to her place and he knocks on her door right at 6:30, 15 minutes after he knows her alarm has gone off. 

She opens the door dazed and confused. “What are you doing here?” 

“I missed my best friend.” 

“Get in here,” she tugs him inside and makes him put the coffees down so she could have a proper welcome. 

She cups his face in her hands and kisses him with so much force and passion, it startles him. But he kisses her back. He wraps her up in a big hug, bringing her in closer, he deepens the kiss with the swipe of his tongue and she pushes him back against her door. It’s as fiery as the first time, it’s better than the kiss in the bookstore, there’s so much more feeling in it now. 

His hand roams up the flat of her back, over her shoulders and rests on the nape of her neck. His thumb caresses the skin under her ear, causing her to moan into the kiss and pull away, embarrassed. Her eyes go wide and she stutters on her way to find an excuse but Spencer just smiles, still caressing her, he brings his other hand up to cup her cheek, “It’s okay… you’re so cute.” 

Her cheeks heat up and she feels bashful as all hell. “Shut up,” is all she can manage to say. “I’m still half asleep, I mean, you should be lucky I already brushed my teeth before you surprised me.” 

“Mm,” Spencer hums, running his tongue over his teeth, “that’s why you’re so minty.” 

She just pulls away and reaches for her coffee, “And now I can’t drink this until the minty-ness goes away, so thank you.” 

“Should I go awa—

“No,” she rushes out. “No, you can stay. I can drive you home on my way to work.” 

“Okay,” he can’t help but giggle a bit as he makes his way closer to her, reaching out for her waist. “You like me…” 

“Shush!” She swats him away, “I have to get ready, don’t tempt me.” 

“Just one more kiss? Come on, isn’t it the deal that I compliment you and you kiss me?” He begs. “You’re so beautiful and smart and lovely—

She steps closer to him and presses her lips right to his only to pull back just as fast. He cups her face in his hands and stops her from moving away too fast and peppers kisses to her lips. “Spence— Spencer!” She giggles while trying to pull away, “Seriously, I have to go to work!!” 

“Fine,” Spencer sighs as he lets her go, only to pull her back in for one last kiss. “Okay, now you can go.” 

She just laughs as she pulls away and heads back to her room, “Come on, you can sit in my room while I get ready.” 

“Really?” He follows even though he doesn’t believe her. 

“Why not?” She doesn’t see why it’s a big deal, “I’m just doing my makeup and then I have to pick an outfit and I’ll change in the bathroom?” 

“Okay, yeah, sorry I just thought you meant you’d change in front of me and I didn’t think we were there yet?” 

“Oh, no,” she agrees. Taking a seat at her little makeup desk, she turns to him. “When do you think we should be ready for something like that?” 

“When do you want to?” He questions her right back. 

She shrugs, “I don’t know… this Saturday is 2 weeks of us being together so, I mean, most couples start moving further around then?” 

“We’re not most couples,” he reminds her. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well,” Spencer hesitates, he looks a little nervous but he sits on the end of her bed anyway. “I’ve never had sex before… I’ve wanted to, I’ve tried.” 

“I’ve never even tried,” she’s incredibly honest. “Making out is as far as I’ve gone with anyone.” 

“Really?” He almost can’t believe it. “Why?” 

She shrugs, “I’m over-emotional and incredibly soft. I can’t do one-night stands and I’ve never trusted anyone enough to experiment before.” 

“Oh,” Spencer softens, “you feel safe with me?” 

She nods, “Extremely.” 

He gets up and wraps his arms around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head. She snuggles into him and holds onto one of his forearms, they both sigh. Completely content with one another. 

—

They agreed to try and go further on Friday night. They both have weekends off, so they could spend the whole weekend together if they wanted to. 

And when Friday comes, she isn’t nervous. It’s just a Friday. 

She placed an order for Chinese food when she got home from work and texted Spencer right after so he could get it on his way over. It was closer to his place and convenient this way and he just liked to get it for them. And while he’s on his way, she takes the time to bring out some comfy blankets to put on the couch for their cuddles later and she lights some candles and turns on her fairy lights. Her whole living room is set in a soft, romantic mood with the hopes that they could do more than just cuddle tonight… 

Spencer knocks 3 times to let her know it’s him and then he walks in, “Hey, so they ran out of spring rolls but they gave us egg rolls instead, is that cool?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she doesn’t care, rushing over to the door she takes the bags from him and puts them on the table by the door instead.

He slips out of his shoes and puts them beside hers, then he takes his bag off and places it beside his shoes, next he takes off his coat and hangs it up. He even locks her front door for her, these are all things he’s used to doing after 2 weeks of visiting. She clears her throat when he takes too long to turn back to her, “excuse me, I’m waiting,” she teases. 

“Sorry,” he steps closer to her and places his hand on her cheek as he leans in for his welcome home kiss. It’s a new tradition that she loves so much and clearly he does too as she can feel him smile through the kiss. He kisses her once, twice and a 3rd time just because he can, “there, happy?” 

She shakes her head and cups both his cheeks, pulling him in for a longer, more passionate kiss. His hands go to her waist, holding her closer to his body, he wraps her up in a hug as well. She pulls back with an audible “mwah,” and a smile on her own face. “Now I’m happy.” 

“You’re so cute,” he compliments. “I missed you so much today.” 

“I missed you, handsome,” she compliments right back. “Um, I missed you so much I was wondering if maybe you’d want to stay over tonight?” 

“Oh?” He’s only slightly surprised, “yeah, I’d like that… I just need to check my bag, hold on.” 

“Okay?” She’s a little confused about why he has to, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She just watches him open up his satchel and search the pockets. 

“Oh, good,” he says with relief in his voice as he pulls out a bottle of pills and his toothbrush. “I haven’t told you yet, but I’m on antidepressants… I take them every night before bed.” 

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she says without a second thought. “Do they help?” 

He nods, putting them back in his bag until later, “Yeah, I like them.” 

“Good, now, come on,” she grabs the bag of food and makes her way over to the kitchen so she can start dishing everything out. “Did you check that they had everything?” 

“You bet, after they forgot the red sauce last time I’m never not checking the bag again,” he says as he follows her. 

They spend a few minutes in the kitchen as they fill their plates with a variety of food. Spencer opts for a fork while she uses the chopsticks provided in the bag and then they move back to the living room. They put their plates on the coffee table and sit down criss-cross apple sauce together on the floor in front of the couch. The remote is on Spencer's side of the table, and the TV is on and ready for them to pick a show, but instead, Spencer asks how her day went. 

“Oh, it was okay with my juniors we worked on SAT prep and then with my 3 freshman classes we worked on their independent study unit and I’m now considered the cool teacher cause I let them listen to their music while they read,” she shares with a smile. “And then for my spare I filled in for Miss Tyndall, the arts teacher, so we watched a David Bowie doc while they all worked on different projects.” 

“Sounds like a fun day,” Spencer loves to listen to her talk about it all. “You’d be my favourite teacher too.” 

“I know,” she can’t help but smile. “How was your day?” 

He shrugs, taking a forkful of fried rice, he covers his mouth with his hand while he talks, “It was okay, no one died so that’s a bonus.” 

For the rest of their meal, they share little stories, about their day and things they heard on the news or on TikTok, funny anecdotes and memories from their separate pasts. It’s nice. She could listen to him all day and he felt the same. When their plates are empty, they both lean back against the couch and Spencer turns to stare at her with so much love in his eyes. 

“I’m really enjoying my nights with you,” he shares, and in the silence, she feels it. But he says it anyway, “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” she says and a feeling of relief flows out of her in the form of a sigh. Her shoulders drop, and she looks over at him with a sweet smile, silent as they take in the moment. “I love you so much.” 

He places his hand on top of hers, both of them are in too much of a food coma to move closer or kiss or anything. They just hold hands and stare at each other. 

“I get it now,” she whispers. “I understand what she’s been singing about all these years… this feeling right here. It’s worth the heartbreak, I think.” 

“I can’t tell the future, but I know I never want to leave you,” Spencer replies, voice equally as soft. “I want everything with you.” 

Her heart starts to beat out of her chest but she knows she has to ask it. “Would you be my first?” 

“Only if you’d be mine?” 

She nods, tears bubbling behind her eyes, and she squeezes his hand. “I’d love nothing more… but I’m in a food coma right now.” 

Spencer breaks out in a burst of historical laughter first, causing her to laugh just as hard and lean into his shoulder. 

“Well, then it’s a good thing we have all weekend,” Spencer finally says, he wraps his arm around her and holds her close. 

“Even if we don’t do it tonight, do you want to sleep in my bed with me?” 

He nods against her, “Yeah… I’ve been thinking about that a lot actually. It’s really hard to leave here in the middle of the night knowing you’re sleeping alone in there when we were just cuddling right here,” he motions to the couch. “I want to wake up with you next to me every morning.” 

The warmth that fills her stomach is a mixture of extreme happiness but also anxiety… it’s almost too good to be true. She pulls away and looks up at him with fearful eyes, “is it normal to fall in love this fast?” The words just tumble out of her. 

Spencer shrugs, “I mean… I’ve always heard the saying ‘when you know, you know’ and I’ve read a lot about love at first sight and the way we pick our mates based on familiar facial structures that make us feel safe… and I’ve been in love before and I never met her—

“But I understand why you loved her, she was the only person in your life other than your mother to truly take care of you and listen…” Y/N cuts him off, remembering the night he told her all about Maeve. 

“Yeah, and from the first day I met you, you’ve done the same,” Spencer reminds her. “You brought me muffins so that I’d have something to eat before work and you wanted to help me unpack and every day since you have cared for me more than anyone I know. Onto of that you’re beautiful and easy to talk to and you’re not only wonderful to me, but to everyone, you know. It wasn’t hard for me to love you, I’m just surprised you love me.” 

“Why?” 

“Well, for starters I’m a 42-year-old man who’s spent the last 20 years of my life hunting serial killers and I had a drug problem and I’ve killed people and I was in prison… you know everything and you still love me?” Spencer really can’t believe it. 

“Mhm, I love you because despite all that shit that’s happened to you, you still have a sweet smile and a big heart and the best mind I know,” Y/N confirms everything he needed to know. “I love you because you’re you. There’s no other reason.”

He cups her cheek and looks at her with the softest expression known to man, “I’m going to love you forever.” 

“Show me?” she whispers, pleading with her eyes to know just how much he loves her. 

“Do we just leave our plates here?” He teases, going to stand up. 

“I guess we can put them away,” she agrees, she moves to her knees and gathers up her own plate while Spencer does the same with his. 

They meet again in the kitchen, placing both plates in her dishwasher, she turns to the leftovers and starts to pack them away while Spencer moves back over to his bag. He grabs his phone and something else while she’s not looking and he opens up Spotify. He doesn’t have many songs saved to his account, just some classical music and the most important song… Sweet Nothing. 

She turns to him within milliseconds, “Spence?” 

He places his phone on the counter and hands her a little rock, one he picked up on his walk over to see her before work last week. He never had the time to give it to her between all their kissing and her getting ready for work. “Here… it’s only May but I can get you another rock in July.” 

She doesn’t want to speak or she’ll cry, but she manages to say: “okay,”  as she takes it from him and steps into his space to dance again. In her kitchen this time… 

She rests her head on his shoulder, his arms around her waist, they sway to the sound of the music and hold each other close. And then he kisses her shoulder and the side of her neck up to her ear. He cups her face in his hand and stares into her eyes, “bedroom?” 

“Bedroom,” she agrees, taking his hand in hers, she leads him back into her room and turns on just the one table lamp she has beside her bed, “should we light candles and stuff?” 

“Do you want to?” 

She shrugs, “I don’t know, isn’t that what people do when they have special sex?” 

“Special sex?” 

“You know, first times, birthday sex, anniversary sex… emotional sex,” she redefines what she meant and surprisingly she isn’t embarrassed. 

“Candles would be nice, then,” Spencer agrees with a smile. “Do you have condoms? Are you on the pill?” 

She smirks, “I bought some condoms on Tuesday after work.” 

He watches her open her bedside table and take out the box of condoms and a lighter, she hands him the condoms, “Here.” 

“Thanks,” he reads them over, latex-free, real feel, they’d work perfectly. 

While he’s reading over the box, she lights a few candles in her room and he takes a seat on the side of her bed, watching her. When she returns to him, she stands between his legs and rests her hands on his shoulders. “You’re sure?” 

“Absolutely,” Spencer smiles up at her and reaches out to hold her hips. He plays with the hem of her shirt, “how do you want to do this?” 

“Can we strip down to our underwear and get into bed and kiss for a bit and see where it goes?” 

“Of course, yeah, that sounds good,” Spencer agrees, he pushes up her shirt and she lifts her arms to help. Spencer has to stand up to pull it all the way off and then he looks down at her in her bra. “wow…” 

“Thanks,” she smirks, shaking her head as she reaches for his shirt to undo the buttons, “they’re just boobs…” 

“Just boobs,” he repeats with a small chuckle. “I’ll have you know everything about you is spectacular.” And with a rush of confidence, he cups both breasts with his hands, he runs his thumbs over where her nipples are hidden under the fabric and she has to bite her lip so she doesn’t moan. 

“Do you like that?” 

She nods and pushes his shirt off his shoulders until it's discarded on the floor. “Yeah. I don’t think you’ve ever noticed but… your hands… I watch them when you talk and when you’re tracing a page as you read really fast and you use two fingers instead of one and I’ve wanted you to touch me from the moment I saw you.”

“Mmm,” he turns her around and motions for her to get on the bed and she moves quickly, she’s resting her head on the pillows when he’s suddenly hovering over her. 

He runs his pointer finger from her chin, down her neck and between the crease of her breasts before cupping them both again and places kisses on her exposed chest. She arches into the contact and his hands follow both her arms until his fingers are interlocked with hers. Holding them over her head as he kisses her neck and shoulder. 

“So beautiful,” he whispers, “how’d I get so lucky?” 

“We have a great mutual friend, remember?” She teases,

He groans “Don’t mention her when I’m about to go down on you…” he says as he nibbles at her skin and it makes her moan, grinding her hips up against him, she wants him so bad but she still has her pants on. He sits on his knees between her spread legs and undoes the button as she lifts her hips, helping him glide them down her legs and off. He tosses them to the floor and goes right back in, gripping her by the hips he leans down and kisses her stomach… something she never thought any man would do. 

He wants her just as bad as she wants him and it’s prevalent in the way his eyes are blown out as he looks up at her, pleading with his eyes, all he says is “Can I?” And she nods. He pulls her underwear down and tosses them off only to lift one and kiss from her ankle and all the way up to her knee and then he dips in closer, smothering her inner thigh with kisses and nips and then he sucks a deep purple mark into her skin, lapping over it with his tongue before blowing on it softly. 

“Holy fuck,” she moans as he gets closer to her pussy and all she wants is his hands on her. 

Almost like he reads her mind, he moves to the other leg and hurries along until he’s kissing right along where her underwear used to meet her thigh. Then, he spreads her pussy and licks a broad stripe along her cunt. He presses a kiss to her clit next as she bucks her hips into the sensation, “Oh my god, Spence?” 

“Shh,” he whispers, looking up at her from between her legs like a man starved. “Just enjoy it, I’ve always wanted to do this.”

She’s so turned on from the teasing alone, and then he adds a finger, he gently circles it around her hole before inserting it slowly, seeing how much give she has before he takes it all. The feeling of his tongue on her is unlike anything she’s ever felt before, he’s soft yet rough and sweet yet disgusting with the noises he’s making. She can’t help reaching out and gripping his hair as her hips lift from the bed again. With only one free hand, he pushes her back down against the bed and she whines. When he adds a second finger, the stretch isn’t too much to handle, he’s so much better with his hands than she figured he’d be as he finger fucks her. His tongue on her clit and freehand trails from her hip up to grip her tit as he grinds against the mattress, he’s so into it she’s worried he might not get to really fuck her. 

“Spencer,” she pants, “holy fuck Spence, please, oh my god,” she can barely make it through the sentence when his fingers curl and her legs tremble.

“Cum for me,” he growls against her and her body listens as she jolts forward and she feels the rush flow through her bloodstream. 

“Oh!” she cups her breast and arches her back, oblivious to how he watches her while still lapping at her clit. 

When it gets to be too much for her, she grips his hair tighter and pulls him off, “fuck me, now… please?”

“Is it an order or a suggestion,” he teases as he kisses back up her body with his glistening and wet lips, “well?”

“Please?” She looks at him with the sweetest, most fucked out expression. “That was amazing, baby.” 

“Fuck,” he groans and drags himself off the bed so he can push his pants and boxers off in one fell swoop. Now, only in his mismatched socks, he doesn’t really have the time to take them off as he reaches for the abandoned box of condoms at the foot of her bed. 

She watches contently as he hastily rips it open and rolls it on before he gets back on the bed. He gets right back to where he was, between her legs, he places his hands on her knees and soothes them down her inner thighs, “you sure?”

She nods, “I’m ready.”

“Okay,” he says with a deep breath, readying himself in the meantime, he grips himself at the base and pushes the head into her, inch by inch, he watches as her mouth opens in a silent gasp. 

“My god…” he coos, “it’s like you were fuckin made for me.” 

She’s speechless, reading out for more of him, she’s desperate for his touch. Her hands land on his hips, his skin is so soft and warm and then they’re flush together. He bottoms out and stills, he drops down so that they’re chest to chest and she cups his face instead, “Hi…” 

“Hi,” he manages to laugh, holding himself up with one arm, his other hand pushes her hair back off her forehead and stays there. “I love you.” 

“I love you,” she says as she pulls him in for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue, he collapses onto her and wraps his arm around her, angling her hips up as he starts to thrust. 

The kiss gets hungrier, and they moan into each other as he picks up the pace, really fucking her just like she asked him to. She has no idea where this side of him came from but she can’t explain how much she likes it, the hand that was once in her hair is now pushed into the pillow, bracing himself as he hovers and fucks her deeply.

She absentmindedly runs her hand along his forearm and takes his hands in hers, interlocking their fingers before he holds it over her head again and fucks into her with vigour. Her legs wrap around him, every trust grinds his pubic bone against her clit and she’s still so sensitive, she’s so incredibly close that all she can do is sloppily kiss him and moan into his mouth.

His hips snap faster and faster as he fucks her and she can’t hold back anymore when she tosses her head back and sucks him in more. “Oh my god,” and “Holy fuck,” is all she can say, making him smirk. 

He’s trying his hardest to keep his composure, breathing quickly, it’s the best workout he’s ever had trying to keep the pace and please her right. “I might,” he says between pants, “I might last a while… cause my meds—

“I don’t care,” she uses her free hand to cup his cheek again, “I want to stay here forever, holy shit.” 

“Yeah?” 

She tosses her head back again, “Oh my god, yeah!” 

He just laughs and it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever heard. She’s right there at the edge when he retrieves his hand from behind her back and rubs his thumb over her clit, “you can cum, if you want.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” she says, running her hand down his chest and looking between them to see what he’s doing, “I want to finish with you.” 

His grip on the hand she’s holding gets tighter, he’s sweaty and losing stamina and nowhere close to being done. “Do you want to switch positions?” She asks, “It’s okay?” 

“Can we?” He slows to a stop, “you’re okay with that?” 

“Spence, I love you,” she reminds him, “It’s fine, it’s better than fine, actually… I’ve heard all my friends talk about dudes who last 5 seconds, this is more than I ever expected.” 

“I’m just anxious, you can see why I take them,” he gets all blushy and bashful as he lets go of her hand, pulls out and sits back up on his knees. 

She sits up too, taking her bra off in the process. She tosses it to the floor and his jaw drops when he sees her naked chest, “fuck..” He mumbles under his breath. 

“Here, you sit up against the headboard,” she suggests, moving out of the way so he can take her place. 

Once he’s settled she straddles his hips and takes his cock in her hand, angling it toward her entering as she sits upon it. Once he’s fully inside she drapes her arms around his shoulders and smiles at him, “We can do it this way… now you’ve got a face full of tits.” 

His hands soothe down her bare back down to her hips, he licks his lips as he looks at them and helps her glide her body against his. “My god,” he all but moans, watching her boobs jiggle as she starts to really ride him. 

“You’re so deep,” she moans, tossing her head back again to free up her neck, he pulls her in and kisses her from her shoulder up to her ear, lighting sucking at her earlobe, he brings his hand up to cup her cheek and ends up gripping her hair at the nape of her neck and pulling her to the side so he can messily smother her in kisses. “No marks, I have teenagers to teach, ‘member? They’re fucking ruthless.” 

“Mhm,” he mumbles, too into it to really care, his other hand reaches down to thumb at her clit, he’s getting close and she wants to finish with him. 

He finally does cup her face with the hand that was just in her hair, he caresses her cheek with his thumb, pulling her back in for a kiss that’s all tongue. She moans into his mouth, running her hands down his chest, she uses his as leverage to keep pushing back before grinding down on him, he’s right against her g-spot and so fucking deep she can feel him everywhere, “Spence,” she whines, pulling back from the kiss, “are you close?” 

“Uh-huh,” he pulls her back in, kissing her deeper, he wraps both his arms around her back and lifts her up, laying her back against the bed and slams his hips into hers over and over. 

Her back arches again and she opens her mouth in a silent moan, it’s so good she can barely breathe. She reaches out for him, gripping his biceps, he attacks her neck again, covering her in sloppy kisses and hot breath. His pelvic bone grinds against her clit, again and again, bringing her right to the edge again until she finally peaks, moaning, she arches her back as her orgasm rushes through her but he doesn’t stop. He fucks her through it, chasing his own high. 

“Fuck, I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbles, through his last few thrusts, and then he stills with a groan, filling the condom, he drops down against her. 

they’re a ball of limbs, holding each other so close she doesn’t know where she ends and he begins. He buries his face in her neck, still kissing her, she holds him tighter, “I love you so much, too, Spencer.” 

taglist:

@reidsbookclub @samuel-de-champagne-problems @superskittles @thedancingcostumeyoungadult @midnightreids @ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129

[odezsmi]

good n plenty

pairing: rin okumura + reader

warnings: light angst, hurt w/comfort

now playing 🎶 : good & plenty by alex isley, masego, + jack dine

an: hello !! this is my first time writing fics on tumblr ! while written elsewhere, i thought it would be amazing to try this out here now bc now or never lolol.

“You know you really don’t have to be here, right? feels like you’re monitoring me at this point.”

“Monitoring you? I can’t simply spend time with my boyfriend?”

The words came off as playful, but while his tone mirrored yours, you knew what he meant.

See, Rin Okumura eventually had come to terms with who he was. While it took a bit longer than he had wanted, he knew who he was inside and out.

Being Satan’s son was the heaviest burden anyone could carry, and Rin had fallen victim to that.

With every event that had transpired so far in his life, from the Blue Night to Kyoto and other following events he accepted the fact that he was Satan’s son.

Satan. A fallen angel, once radiant and powerful, who defied divine authority and was casted out of Heaven. A symbol of evil, human frailty even and the enemy of God. A being who sought to destroy God’s children and bring nothing but destruction.

But Rin Okumura?

Oh, nothing hurt more than to see how wrong people could be about this careful being.

Rin was anything but destructive. If anything, he’s more gentle than anyone you’ve ever met.

With the kindest words and the gentlest of gazes towards you, you never understood what it was about you that caught his eyes.

And each time you asked whether it be a joke or not, you were always met with his softness and light words.

“Because you see me.”

And that, made him more human and less of a spawn.

You saw him for his eccentric self, whether it’s over his cooking for him and his brother. Or how Kuro slept the previous night and he’s showing the 45 pictures he took.

Whether it be how he’s excited he’s invited out of a simple game of baseball with the other ex wires or an older woman took time out of her day to chat with him, you saw him for who he was.

Not what he was forced to be.

Sometimes though, the reminders of who he is catch up to him and he’s left shaken up with fear and doubt. The fear of his friends leaving him for good, of losing Yukio, or even losing you.

You received a call at 3 am and now you’re snuck into the dorms, not caring that he’s seeing you with crazed hair and your athletic-based pajamas.

“Plus it sounded like you realllllly wanted me here. Didn’t we just have a date? Didn’t know you’d miss me that much.” The cheesy grin was enough to make the boy scoff.

“Hey- I have a cat I can also talk to-“

“Who I can’t understand-“

“And go back into my super comfortable twin bed by myself. Well. With him too.”

It wasn’t long before you were laughing gently at his banter, reminding yourself Yukio was asleep down the hall.

If he were awake he’d certainly scold you two for being up so late.

“Well, can Kuro enjoy some nice chamomile tea and spend time with you like this?”

It was unfortunately also a late night with heavy storms, the drops pattering against the windows. It was loud and clear for the two of you, and you had managed to distract Rin for a bit from it (in case he felt guilty for making you come here).

As he glances over at a window from the empty cafeteria, you stare at his features for a bit and exhale through your nostrils.

What you would give to ease his troubles, to take away all of his fears and insecurities. It was a late night and he clearly had a nightmare, one which his friends had shunned and demeaned him for his heritage.

While not possible with all you guys have been through as exwires, who are you to dismiss that?

You’ll never understand the full extent of it, but you’ll be there as much as you can for him.

“Rin?”

His head turns from the window to look at you, a puzzled look on his features.

His expression was precious enough you’re already smiling, eyes crinkled and teeth showing. Thumb drawing patterns on the back of his hand, you hum.

“You’re… you’re so good. You’re just… a beautiful being.”

The words caught him off guard, and both of you sat in a moment of silence.

Him? Good?

Are you sure you’re talking about him?

“But-“

“You’re a gift from the universe, a blessing to many. You’re choosing a life for yourself, and defying anyone else who disagrees. Who tells you what you should be and what you are. Except…” You frown, and that worries him for a moment.

“I wish you saw how wonderful you are from my eyes.”

Wonderful.

Wonderful? All he can remember being called is aggressive, a brute, hell even a thug.

But a blessing? Wonderful? Satan would be laughing if he heard the formal.

But…

Hands withdrawing from him, you chuckle to yourself out of meekness. “Maybe that’s a bit much. Sorry if it was weird-“

Your words died in your throat when his arms engulfed you, yelping a little from the force. Your arms hung in the air uselessly as you tried to look at your boyfriend.

“Rin?”

“Stay the night with me.”

“Huh? But-“

“Please.”

The word is forced out, in a way which you understand in a snap. His hug was tight, body trembling and voice strained.

Brushing his locks down for comfort, you stand from your chair and nod. “Okay.”

With you in his arms, his soul was able to find a little bit more peace. The tranquility of the rain and him holding you close to his chest brought on sleep to him.

For so long, he had been haunted by the echoes of his past, the weight of his bloodline threatening to drown him in despair.

But in your arms, he found sanctuary — a haven where his flaws were not condemned, but embraced with love and understanding.

And just like that, he fell asleep and remained asleep throughout the rest of the night.

Until of course, a very hungry cat woke him up and an irritated younger brother scolded you both for this recklessness.

It was all worth it in the end for Rin.

(teehee I didn’t proofread so sorry for any mistakes; I wrote this at 2 am.)