#okay I really need a time out away from this site

[eveningearlgrey]

So...um...I did something

It's actually Peter/Percival but this time Peter is the older one. They met while Percy was on a mission. Peter was a bit older(at least older than James when he died, oops–) and Percy was kinda young and just recently became Percival. And...

Okay, bye–

[majestyeverlasting]

Hellooo, can I please request a Joel miller x reader oneshot where the reader had a really bad day at work and she’s calling him from the bathroom crying and he immediately rushes to pick her up? 🥰🩷

𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Pairing Joel Miller x Female Reader 

Summary A disheartening setback at work leads you to call Joel, who always knows exactly what you need [fluff, 1.6k].

A/N Thank you so much for this request and your patience, anon! Really enjoyed writing this one.

∘°∘♡∘°∘

Hi, are you busy right now?

A heavy exhale is freed from your chest the moment you hit send. It’s quiet in the bathroom except for the rhythmic drip of the leaky sink faucet. Muffled voices arise from the hallway as people pass by, some preparing to commute home. Warm tears stream down your cheeks. 

No sooner does your phone vibrate to life, a picture of you and Joel at McKinney Falls filling the screen. There isn’t much time to compose yourself before you press the accept button with a shaky thumb. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Got done early today, we’re cleaning up the site,” Joel greets, wind in the background. Tommy’s voice emits from nearby as well, followed by rowdy, cackling laughter. “Hold on a second, lemme get someplace quiet.” 

“Okay,” you murmur. 

There’s shuffling on his end of the line that eventually subsides. It’s still worth clinging to even though he’s miles away. 

“Sorry about that. Everything alright?” Concern dances around the edges of his words. You can tell he’s trying to keep them from being consumed. 

After Sarah moved out for college, he’d gotten better at accepting that every phone call he received from her didn’t automatically mean trouble. Most of the time, she simply wanted to catch up now that she lived two hours away. 

However, the opposite was true between you and Joel. Nowadays, you spend so much time together that there’s seldom a need to talk on the phone. The fact that you were calling him, from work, no less, meant something was up. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, but it doesn’t do much for the wavering of your voice when you finally speak up again, “Just wanted to hear your voice.” 

Your subsequent sniffle makes him grow still. You can see it through the phone. It’s in the way he doesn’t immediately respond, gears undoubtedly turning in his head. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” There’s a gentle, almost melodic quality to his voice that makes you wish you could lay your head on his chest and feel the rumble of his words. 

“Today’s just been a lot,” you tell him. “You know Alexander, the Bulletin’s editor?” He makes a small sound of affirmation. “It wasn’t his decision, but he pulled me aside to let me know my feature has been put on hold for further revision.” 

Relaying the news makes fresh tears well in your eyes. Over the past few weeks, Joel has watched you pour yourself into each stage of constructing the story to do the subjects justice—the meticulous research, heartfelt interviews, and late nights perfecting every draft. 

It was a labor of love, a piece that sought to illuminate the struggles of longtime Austin residents, artists, and small business owners navigating the challenges of gentrification and displacement. 

“Something about it being redundant.” Which, for all you knew, could be higher-up code for we don’t want this stepping on the toes of donors with deep pockets.  

“You’re kidding,” Joel grouses, disappointed for you. 

You shake your head even though he can’t see you. “I wish I was,” you breathe. “Redundant, yet they’ve got room for age-old dieting tips and holiday gift guides every year,” you say, voice wavering. 

“I know, I hear you. I’m so sorry, baby,” he soothes, releasing a heavy sigh. “At least it hasn’t been canned entirely. That’s worth something.”  

He’s right, but it still feels like a slap in the face considering all the time invested. From you and everyone who shared their story. 

“It just sucks,” you sniffle. “I didn’t get enough sleep last night, and now I feel even worse.” A dull ache has settled in your temples. 

Shuffling arises on Joel’s end of the line again, and you remember that he’s still on site. 

“I’m sorry. You can go if you need to.” 

Instead, he comes back with, “Hang tight, okay? Gonna come get you.” 

When you bite your lip instead of responding, he keeps talking, “Should be there in twenty, give or take.” 

As appealing as it sounds to be whisked away, reality is quick to set in. 

“No, it’s fine, Joel. Tommy and the guys need you. I couldn’t ask you to do that.” 

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t good for it,” he replies. 

•••

Outside, you’re met with a relaxed breeze and the dwindling warmth of downtown, where the sun eases towards the horizon. A few tourists mill around, men and women in business casual stride by with messenger bags. At Joel’s truck, which is parallel parked across the street, he gets the door for you. An 80s station plays low on the radio, Bruce Springsteen’s Born to Run faintly recognizable. 

You watch as he rounds to the driver’s side in that relaxed stride you love. He looks handsome despite his mused hair and the specks of dried paint on his shirt. When he climbs in, you’ve taken notice of the ice-cold raspberry tea in the cupholder closest to you. 

Along the way, he’d stopped and gotten it from the cafe you and Sarah frequented whenever she was visiting from school. You only went alone as an occasional treat, but he knew how much you liked it. 

A smile buds on his face when you pick it up and take a grateful sip. There’s a softness to his gaze that makes warmth bloom in your chest. With him, even the little things seemed to say, I see you. 

When you extend the cup his way in a silent offer, he waves you off. However, curiosity gets the better of him after he pulls off the curb. “Guess a sip won’t hurt.”

For the first time in what feels like hours, you smile when Joel hums at the flavor. For a moment, it doesn’t feel like the world is ending anymore. When he places his hand on your thigh, you intertwine your fingers with his, and he gives your hand a squeeze. 

A comfortable silence settles between you. It isn’t until you’ve left downtown that Joel speaks up again, voice measured and sure, “Your story will get out. Those guys know good journalism when they see it, and they’re gonna have to run it.” 

You glance over at him, your lower lip caught between your teeth as hope kindles in your chest.

“Hell, I’ll make my own publication if that’s what it takes. The Miller Times.” 

A chuckle bubbles out of you, but you could cry at the same time. For an entirely different reason this time. 

“I could get in trouble for going to a different publisher,” you remind him, running your thumb over the back of his hand as a small smile plays on your lips. “I’m on staff.”  

“I know, honey.” Joel squeezes your hand, a playful glint in his eyes. “Admit it, though. You thought about it for a second. The Miller Times has a nice ring to it.” 

He can see you fighting against your growing smile. “It’s alright.” 

“I’ll take that,” he concedes. Then, a greater air of sincerity settles over him. “What’s that one saying—setbacks are setups for something better.” 

You nod, gazing out the window as you turn into his neighborhood. 

“Don’t let this weigh you down.” 

You felt worlds lighter with him. 

•••

The warm spray of the shower feels so good against your skin that you remain under it even after the day’s troubles have washed away. Three months ago, you would’ve had to use Joel’s body wash, but your products and belongings had since made their way here. Some, he bought because he knew you’d be around, and others—namely, clothes—that migrated from your apartment. 

The word home has lost its shape in that regard. Not in a detached way of not belonging in any one place, but in that Joel’s house had begun to feel like just as much of a home as your cozy one-bedroom a few miles away. 

When you finally step out of the shower, a towel wrapped around yourself, you can see straight into the bedroom, where Joel is stretched across the bed. The sound of the shower door closing prompts him to sit up with a low grunt. You offer a shy smile upon meeting his gaze. 

“Promise I’m not creepin’ around,” he says, standing to his feet. “Just wanted to see if your headache was gone. Can bring up some Tylenol if you need it.” 

“It’s fine. I feel better now,” you assure. With a satisfied nod, he turns to leave with the intent of giving you space, but stops in his tracks when you speak up again, “You’re allowed to creep around if you want. I don’t mind.” 

Joel saunters into the bathroom doorway, propping an arm against the frame. The motion causes his bicep to strain against the sleeve of his shirt. Getting to see you like this, the intimacy of it all, always makes him feel grateful and warm. 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“You’re the boss,” you lilt.

With a low chuckle, Joel pushes out of the doorway and moves to stand behind you. You stare at your joint reflection as he rests his large hands on your hips, then leans down to press a delicate kiss to your bare shoulder. His frame is broad and rugged behind you, but his eyes are kind. 

When you rest your hands over his, he presses a second kiss to the crook of your neck. Then another just beneath your ear. His lips are so soft and warm against your damp skin that you can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine and makes you press back into him. 

“I like you like this,” he whispers. “Relaxed…smiling.”

Now that you’re in his arms, it’s hard to imagine having stayed at the newsroom. With the meetings, chatty colleagues, and constant blue light. It’s quieter here with Joel. The world at large has disappeared while your smaller one keeps turning.

“I didn’t realize how much I needed this,” you admit. 

But Joel did. He always did. 

-

Thank you so much for reading. Like, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all.

MORE

[waughymommy]

WM: Breastfeeding Kink & Diaper play

Disclaimer: all characters depicted in this story are consenting adults over the age of 18. If you are NOT 18 or older, Don't Read if UNDER 18

I startle awake from a throbbing pain in my breasts. Quietly groaning as I turn over onto my back not wanting to wake my sleeping little prince. My hand moves up to my big tits and oh god are they swollen. I’m not sure what’s been going on but for the past few days my breasts have been so tight and swollen and it’s just getting worse. I slowly begin to massage them in an attempt to ease the pain. “Oh fuck this isn’t helping at all” i whisper to myself. 

I pull my loose tank top away from my breasts and look at the swollen mounds. The only time I’ve ever seen breasts look like this were when my best friend breastfed her little in front of me… wait. It can’t be can it? There’s no way I haven’t even been taking the special pills she had to take to induce lactation! 

I open my phone to Google and type in “what can cause you to lactate?” I click the first site that pops up. “There are many things that can induce lactation such as Yada yada yada medications such a birth control… FUCK.” I whisper yell. I did not just accidentally induce lactation with the new birth control I’m on. Oh god we haven’t even had this discussion yet I’m not sure it’s even something he’d be into. But my breasts hurt so bad I need some relief. 

I get up from bed as quietly as I can and walk into the adjoining bathroom. I flicker the lights on and keep the door open just the slightest bit incase my little prince needs me. I look in the mirror and slowly pull my tank top down. My tits spring out all heavy and full. “Fuck” I hiss quietly as I press down in the swollen flesh.

I slide my finger down to my nipple and begin to stimulate it. A milky liquid starts to drip out and I almost can’t believe it. I moan as my finger squeezes some more out. Oh fuck that feels good. 

A quiet voice interrupts my ministrations “Mommy?” I look over to my left side and my little prince is at the bathroom door just in his princess t shirt and full diaper staring at my dripping nipples in wide eyed wonder. Fuck he looks so beautiful with his bed head and sleepy eyes. He rubs at his eyes and hold the door frame. 

“Mommy what’s that?” He points to the liquid still dripping from my hard nipple. 

“It’s nothing you need to worry about baby boy just turn your little tush around and go back to bed. I’ll be right there.” I say as I walk toward him and turn him around with my hands on his shoulders walking him back to the bed. He throws his head back and whines lowly, “but mommy I’m thirsty das why I woke up!” He says as I set him down back in bed. 

He looks up at me and his eyes move back to my nipples and his lips part and drool seeps out. “Okay baby you just wait right here and mommy will get you a drink of water.” I move toward the door but he grabs my wrist and with those doe eyes of his staring up at me and says “But I wan mommy’s milkies!” He whines again. His tonight peaks out and he licks his lips. “I’m not sure honey we havent really spoken about this.” I say as I softly caress the side of his face. He leans his head into my hand and pouts. 

“Please mommy please I just wanna try and see what it’s like. If you don’t like it or If I don’t like it we always have our safe word!” He trues to reason with me. And he’s not wrong so what could be the harm? I’ve secretly wanted this so badly for the longest time. I sigh and smile at him and nod. 

“Okay sweetheart you won, let mommy get comfy in bed first.” He claps his hands in excitement and slaps a sloppy wet kiss on my lips. I laugh as I crawl into bed and settle against my pillows. I pat my lap for him, “come here sweetie and lay side ways in mommy’s lap. Put you head right there in mommy’s elbow.” I maneuver him a little till he’s sitting just right, I cover him in the blankets and turn the low lamp on. A soft glow covers the room as he looks up at me with his lips slightly parted. I can tell he’s just as excited as I am. My sweet little boy. 

“Alright baby boy open those pretty lips for mommy.” I hold my boob up and my nipple leaks as I pull it and drop it in his waiting mouth. His lips close around my nipple immediately and he begins to softly suck. It takes him a few moments to really get the hang on how to latch on but soon his tongue is working in overdrive and hes suckling away like his life depends on it. I a gasp at the strength of his suckling and softly run my hands through his brown hair. “Sweetheart mommy isn’t going anywhere you can drink slowly, I promise I’m not going anywhere.” He closes his eyes and the suckling gets softer as soon as he realizes I’m not gonna snatch my nipple away from him. I moan quietly as I watch him drink. 

He’s such a sweet little boy suckling on his mommy’s nipples. I slide my hand down to his diaper and rub at his diapee covered cock. It’s so hard. I won’t lie my panties have absolutely socked through at this point. The feeling of his tongue lapping at the milk from my tits is just so erotic. He moans as my hand continues it’s rubbing. 

His hand reaches for my other leaking breast and he begins to fondle the nipple. Pulling and clutching at it, the milk dribbles done his fingers soaking them. I can’t help but moan out at the feeling. “Oh sweet boy that feels so good. You’re such a good boy just keep playing with mommy’s nipples like that.” I say a little breathless. 

I slip my hand into his diaper and just as my hand reaches the tip of his little cock he begins to piss right into my palm. I laugh a little and look at him a she pauses his suckling. His cheeks flame red, “I’m sorry mommy I couldn’t hold it.” He’s so fucking cute. 

“It’s okay baby you can go pee when you need to you know that. It’s why you have a diaper on to be able to lose control over your bowels and bladder whenever you need.” His stream continues as it hits my hand and I press down on the slit it’s pouring out of feeling the force of it. His piss is so warm on my hand as it fills his already soaked diaper. 

He smiles and nuzzles my breast and begins to suckle again as he pisses in my hand. He’s so fucking sexy sometimes I can’t believe he’s all mine. 

My sweet little boy.🍼😍💦🥰

[cheriladycl01]

No because that hurt me! Lando Norris x Girlfriend! Reader Part 1

Plot: Lando goes one step too far ...

Warnings: Mentions of Assault (From a random on the street)

"Hey baby!" you grin pulling your boyfriend of three years into a hug.

You'd met Lando randomly, you weren't a model and you didn't have a rich dad. You weren't at all famous, you had a private Instagram account that only really had some of the drivers that Lando introduced you to like Oscar and Logan, and then Max, Charles, Carlos and Daniel.

You actually house-flipped, and properly house-flipped. Not one of those super rich people who come buy a decent plot of land with a small little shack on it and turn it into their dream manor. You however have built you way up, you and the team you work with. You were a graphic designer/ architect so you would design the houses and draw a floor plan, helping the carpenters when showing them your vision.

It was a great job, that was incredibly flexible when it came to travelling with Lando. At first it was stressful, being his WAG and everything. People didn't think you spent enough time at the track and weren't good enough for Lando, but you did try to constantly attend every race you possibly could, which made Lando more than happy.

He honestly liked, kind of keeping you bubble wrapped in a way. His other relationships had ended because of the harsh media and the fans and he didn't want that to happen with you. But this sometimes would get suffocating.

"Hey" he grins at you, he roughly pulls you into a hug that you return with a laugh into his shoulder.

"I'm so so proud of you, for your first Formula 1 win!" you exclaim, kissing his cheek and he kisses your head. Reporters flood around you as well as the mechanics and you start to feel a little crushed. You see Oscar and Lily to one side and Lily nudges Oscar seeing the look on your face and that you're looking a little flushed and panicked.

Oscar manages to pull you out and you thank him, laughing along with Lily as you regain your composure.

"Are you okay?" Oscar asks.

"Yeah, I'm going to go wait for Lando on his driver room. He'll want to celebrate tonight I'm sure of it" you smile. You walk off, waving to people through the paddock before entering the Mclaren motorhome.

You sit patiently waiting for him to come and meet you in the driver's room, just scrolling threw TikTok and Instagram making a post about your boyfriends win. You were so happy for him that you felt like you needed to share that with your few followers on your main account. You also had an account for your house flipping, that was public and fans followed you on there instead, so you made a story to congratulate him on there as well.

You waited and waited for what felt like hours, until you stepped out of his drivers room not hearing many people around anymore.

"Hello?" you called out.

You walked out through to find only a few mechanics left still packing away.

"Hey guys, where's everybody gone?" you ask starting to help feeling bad that there was only a few workers left on site. You look around seeing some light coming from the other motorhomes but it was similar to here at Mclaren.

"Thanks for the help Y/N but you don't have too, everyone's left for the night!" he smiles at you and you stop confused.

"Everyone? Even Lando?" you ask confused as to why he hadn't come and seen you yet.

"Oh yeah Lando, left about an hour ago? Went back to the hotel with Max and Daniel i think" he admits as he walks with you.

"He didn't come looking for me?" you ask and the guy has a thoughtful look before shaking his head at you.

"Oh, erm okay. Well, I'm sort of stuck here, can i help you guys at all with packing up?" you ask, hoping that one of the mechanics would be nice enough to give you a lift.

"Sure, come on!" he advises before showing you he little pieces that you could help them pack away. You stayed until Mclaren were pretty much done, but seeing your phone blow up with millions of notifications you decided to check.

Message from Oscah - Where are you? Thought Lando said you were meeting us here?

Message from Lils Z - Girl, where you at. I need you here at the after party :(

Message from Maxie Fewtie - Lando's being weird, where the hell are you?!

Message from P - Y/N, i thought you were coming with me and Max to the club? Aren't you coming?

You then move onto Instagram checking all the stories from you friends. You could see Lando was already at the club, up at the DJ booth Max feeling with Daniel dancing behind him. In Daniel's story you see Lando lean into a girl at the club as she talks to him, nodding at whatever she said. It made you frown at first but he was DJing so it was probably a request. But still why had he left without you and not bothered to text you.

"I'm really sorry, I'm going to have to go guys!" you exclaim, seeing all the notifs.

"Are you going to be okay, how will you get back?" the mechanic asks worry etching on his face.

"I can walk, it'll be fine and good for me to get fresh air. I thought maybe someone would have realized I'm missing by now and come and got me. I'll be okay!" you smile before pulling the hood of Lando's hoodie up over you head.

You make the cold walk and halfway through when you start to feel uncomfortable with how quiet the road is you try to call Lando, he didn't answer making you sigh and tears brim your eyes.

"You alright pretty!" A man exclaims coming up to you making you freeze in shock. He grabs your arm, making you gasp loudly looking round trying to catch someone's eyes for help.

"You seem lost, let me help" he grins, gripping onto your waist, a weak whimper coming our your mouth as you attempt to push his hands away. His breath smells horrid and his hands are cold on your exposed wrist.

"Y/N!" A voice shouts and you turn round seeing the mechanic from earlier and two other guys in the car all glaring at the man.

"These your friends darling, or are you a little slut with three men at your feet. You come with me, I'd give you a better time than these little boys" he scoffs looking at them.

"Y/N, come join us in the car" the one driving directs, you immediately go sitting in the back next to the mechanic who was in the back. Tears were streaming down your face at this point and you just wanted to go home.

"Y/N, hey hey its okay. He's gone now your safe!" the one next to you exclaims, pulling you in for a hug.

"Please, please can you just take me to the club Lando is at" you admit looking at Dan who was the mechanic driving.

"Yeah, sure"

In no time he pulls up in the center of the city in the club you'd all discussed going too.

"Thank you, I owe you lunch or dinner or something for this" you say tears still running down your face.

"Y/N are you sure your okay?" he asks, and you simply nod before hopping out the car. You run over to the VIP entrance and hold up your ID to the man, he checks the list nodding and letting the rope down so you could go through. Your walk round the club, the loud music pounding in your ears as you look for your boyfriend.

You lock eyes with Lily and Oscar first and they rush over to you, asking where you've been.

"Where's Lando, I just want to speak with him" you sob, leaning into Lily's comforting hug, sniveling and wiping it with the hoodie cuff. Oscar guides you round to a booth that currently occupied, Max, Kelly, Other Max, Pietra, Daniel, Heidi, Lando and a few others. As you round the corner everyone notices Oscar's sudden appearance and then yours behind him.

"Lando, mate look who i found!" Oscar tries grabbing his attention but he's one of the only people at the table right now that hasn't got your attention.

"Oh... yeah cool, ill be there in a min" he says noticing it you but not taking anything in, you look over at Oscar tears welling in your eyes just wanting a reassuring hug from your boyfriend and for him to either help you calm down, or take you back to the hotel.

"L-lando?" you stutter, and everyone is looking at you in confusion having no clue what had happened.

"What Y/N, I'm trying to celebrate with my friends that actually bother to turn up..." he huffs, everyone had noticed that he had a semi sour mood tonight, and now they had started to understand why.

"Mate, look lets take this to the balcony!" Max says, taking Pietra's hand trying to get her to stand up so he can let the girl whose sat next to Lando and the boy himself out. He noticed the tear stains down your face even in the dim-lighting of the club the minute you came over, him and Pietra having shared a look.

"Nope, if she's got something to say, she can say it here..." he grins, even though he doesn't normally drink, he'd had to many drinks tonight and it was effecting him.

"Lando, you don't want to do this" Oscar, tries stepping next to you, making Lando scoff.

"Oscar's right mate. Not tonight" Max agree's.

"She's a big girl, come on Y/N tell me why you cant even be bothered to fucking celebrate with me? Huh? You know what your so fucking useless and I shouldn't have thought you'd care for something as big as this for me... your jealous...." he slurs his words.

"Fuck you Lando. Just... I hate you" you cry, everyone at the table stiffens as your mouth opens like a fish, as if you want to say something more.

"I'm done, We're done, I'm not coming home to Monaco, I'm going back to London" you add, before turning round and storming out the club. Out the front you found a sober, Alex getting George and Pierre into Charles car, while he got Lily in his own.

"Alex!" you exclaim running over to him, he see's you and waves before pulling you into a hug.

"Can you drop me to the hotel please?" you ask and he nods.

The minute you got back to the hotel, you locked the main door before entering the bathroom and scrubbing your body raw. You looked at your sleepwear options, you normally just slept in Lando's older tops... but of course you didn't want the thought, sight or smell of him anywhere near you right now.

You fell asleep pretty quickly considering what happened. Lando didn't disturb you, you assumed he went back with one of his friends and slept on their floor or sofa.

You got up early, wanting to get the earliest flight back to London that you could. You were packing up when a knock came from the door, and then the sound of a key card swiping before the door opened.

"Morning baby, how are you?" a voice asks that you didn't want to hear. You keep going on about your packing, leaving Lando's stuff alone.

"Getting an early start to head back home huh?" he tries again, Lando looked at you, with concern on his face. He hadn't spoken to Carlos before he left wanting to come straight to his girlfriend who he was confused as to why he didnt wake up in their room with her.

"Ah your a grouchy morning person, why don't we go back to bed for a little" he laughs, about to touch your shoulder to pull you up before you shrug him off.

"Don't touch me" you whisper, zipping your suitcase up.

"What's going on with you baby!" he asks, pulling your chin up so your eyes met his and he almost gasped in shock when he saw the tears streaming down her face.

"I'm guessing you don't remember much of last night?" you say trying not to sound angry.

"No, I think Charles and Pierre had me do shots straight away" he laughs a little before turning back seriously.

"Why?" he asks.

"Well considering I broke up with you last night ..." you glare looking at him before he stumbles back a little from the pure shock of the statement. He was about to ask if you were joking, nut seeing your face there was no joke there.

"What? Baby... no what happened?" he asks looking at you. You snivel and lean for a tissue to wipe your nose.

"Figure it out, because i need some space right now... you hurt me Lando... and I need time. This isn't the end I just need to think" you say, pulling your suitcase up before walking to the door.

"Please baby, lets just talk about this. I don't even know what i did..." he argues throwing his hands out.

"No... because you hurt me! And you need to apologize for everything said!" you say tears in your eyes.

"Maybe talk to Oscar, Max and those Mclaren Mechanics that stay late" you sigh walking out the door leaving a shell shocked Lando behind.

A/N: I'm so so so sorry, i need to write more fluff instead of all these angst pieces... and some smut i gotta delve into smut coz I'm a pretty decent spicy writer... so look out for that too.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19

[misserabella]

come over

abby anderson x fem! reader

pt2

summary; strangely enough, your number one enemy since kindergarten and captain of the basketball club of your college calls you up one night begging you to come over to her dorm room. after knocking on her door, things will take a turn that you would have never expected.

CW;; +18 content! minors dni!, cursing, dirty talk, nipple play, bullying and fights, teasing, oral sex (r receiving), strap on use (r receiving), abby calls the strap her cock, jealousy, possessiveness, dacryphilia, overstimulation, squirting, spanking, finger fucking, hair pulling, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

You were having a really bad day. Not bad, horrible.

First of all, your alarm didn’t go off for some stupid reason and caused you to 1. getting late to school and 2. getting your teacher to lower your grade just because he’s a goddamn asshole that hates you.

Second of all, you’d forgotten your lunch and your wallet, so you were now starving unable to buy anything to eat (thank god one of your friends had shared with you her sandwich or else you would be dead by now). And third of all…

“And what do we have here?”

Her.

You rolled your eyes, feeling your skin heating up and your insides turning with disgust and anger as you turned around to face the most annoying fucking person you’ve ever met.

“Give it back, Anderson.”

Abigail Anderson, the name that would appear on your worst nightmares, the monster under your bed, the last person you’d ever want to live through the end of the world with... Your enmity had been going strong since kindergarten, when she had picked on you for your looks since day one just because. Then, she started to tell her friends and those around you to not go near you or else they’d catch lice.

She needed to be on top of you all the time; if there was a race on P.E, she’d make you trip with her foot to get you on your knees and win (leaving you all bloody and injured), if there were presentations to be made in front of the whole class she’d crack up jokes to make everyone laugh at you, giving you quite the public anxiety and if you somewhat got to win her in anything (probably at grades) she’d go nuts and get so pissed that she’d make your life impossible for the next few months by trashing your locker, ‘accidentally’ throwing her drinks all over you, telling the teachers that she saw you cheating…

It only got worse when you found your best friend: Ellie Williams. You became inseparable in high school. And she made your life impossible.

You stapled a poster at the university’s ‘news wall’. It was Ellie’s, she was about to go on a tour and had asked you if it would be okay to hang some posters to let everyone know. Through the years, The Fireflies had gained fame and a lot of followers.

“The freak is going on a tour?” she scoffed, raising her eyebrows. “Disgusting. She really thinks she’s gonna become a superstar or some shit…”

You fisted your hands, your heart being squished under the nickname that your friend had had to grow up with just because she liked things the others didn’t.

“Don’t call her that.” you said, your eyes straight into hers.

“ ‘Freak’?” she teased you, swaying away the poster when you tried and take it back. “What do you want me to call her then, hm? Delusional, maybe.” she thought out loud, when she noticed your furious expression, she simply shrugged. “Just stating facts.” the people around you had gathered to listen to your bickering. It was a daily coincidence now, Anderson being always the one looking for trouble. Some of them laughed at her words… Jerks. Just like her.

“You know what, Anderson? Sure, call her whatever you want.” you said, ripping from his hands the poster. “But I assure you, that you’ll never be not an inch of a girl that she is. All that height and still no brains. ” that made the crowd burst out in laughter. You were filled with proudness when you noticed her jaw tightening and her body going stiff. You were no outcast now, you were popular to be honest, and everybody knew the two of you since Anderson was the basketball team captain and you the cheerleader team captain. It was hell on the games, each of you always fighting each other off. But your teammates had grown so accustomed to it that they just laughed at your little fights. “So go ahead and run your mouth, ‘cause I’m sure yours will never get to places hers have never been.” you leaned in. “And hold your tongue, ‘cause Ellie knows how to use hers really well.” you whispered inches away from her face, giving her a wink before stapling the poster to the board and leaving her behind with tightened fists and heated cheeks.

It was a big day for you and your team, and you didn’t have time for play dates.

—

“y/n!” your eyes shone when to your ears the familiar sound of your best friend’s voice ringed.

You turned around, with your pompoms in hand and high ponytail, your college’s cheerleader uniform shining due to the lights that lightened the whole basketball court.

“Els!” you smiled, so bright that almost blinded, running and jumping on your friend’s arms, who easily caught you and squeezed you in a tight hug. “You made it!” you laughed as she twirled you around.

“Of course I made it, it’s your big night after all. Although I still don’t get this basketball and cheering thing…” she left a sweet peck on your cheek. “But look at you all dolled up! Is it for me?” she winked, leaning just the slightest in, enough for her to whisper on your ear.

You laughed, playfully pushing at her chest. “Of course Ellie, you know I’m all yours.” you winked back, making her let out a quick laughter.

“I really need to put a ring on you, Ms. Williams.” she pointed at you as the music that let the public know that the match was about to start started to play through the speakers and she backed off to the stairs to sit and leave you to your cheerleading.

“I’ll be waiting on it, Ms. Williams!” she sent you a flying kiss that only made you giggle and roll your eyes. You loved Ellie, she always found a way to make you laugh and that’s something that you truly appreciated. She was the only one that truly got you.

You turned around to call for your teammates, your smile fading as fast as your eyes bumped against those blue ones that you do well knew at this rate.

Anderson looked at you with such a pissed expression… Water bottle tightly clutched in one of her hands, about to burst. She let it fall to the ground along with the towel that stood on her shoulders when her coach called out for her with his whistle, giving Ellie, who was on the first step on your back a death glare as she ran to the center of the court to shake hands with the other team captain.

What the…

“Girls come on!!” you called for the cheerleaders on your team as you still looked at the stiff body of your incarnated hell. What the fuck is wrong with her?

“Assume positions!”

Not my problem.

You shrugged it off and started to cheer for your team along with the public that had come to watch the match, most of them students from both colleges. And through all of it, you tried and ignore the harsh eyes that bore holes on the back of your neck, even if your skin felt like being on fire.

…

It was late at night in your dorm room, your roommate having left to stay at her girlfriend’s house since it was Friday. You were snacking on some candy and chips as you watched your favorite show, Teen Wolf, along with Ellie, who had sneaked to your bedroom, laying in your bed fully covered and with your pjs on. After the game, which you sadly had lost, you had watched as a very infuriated Abby walked out of the court and the gym, not without giving you and Ellie, who was hugging you and congratulating you for your efforts regardless of the result of the match, a pretty harsh glare that clearly said ‘fuck you two.’

Jeez, you didn’t know what has gotten her so riled up that afternoon but you surely hoped for her to go and drown her sorrows somewhere as quietly as possible and leave you alone.

“Hell yeah!” you cheered to the power couple as they shared their first kiss, almost jumping and throwing all your chips around and on your best friend when Isaac and Allison finally shared their first kiss.

“Ugh. Really Allison?! I was expecting better from you.” the auburn haired guitarist gasped, acting hurt at the ‘betrayal’. She was team Scott. Which was obviously stupid since he now liked Kira.

“What are you talking about?! Scott has moved on, doesn’t she have the right to do so too?” Ellie gave you a side glance as in a ‘no’, but she quickly laughed when you hit her shoulder with a ‘hey!’.

Your attention was completely on the screen when your phone started buzzing on your side table. You took a new bite at your candy as you reached for it, still not focusing on it as you took. the call. It was probably your roommate calling to check in.

“Hello?” you talked into the line, waiting for a few seconds for an answer that never came. You checked the screen, ‘Unknown number’ showing on its center. You furrowed your eyebrows “Hello? Who’s this?” Ellie paused the series and rose to sit up on your bed along with you, mouthing a ‘who’s it?’. You simply shrugged and mouthed back a ‘no idea’. The sudden appearance of a sharp and heavy breathing caught you off ward for a couple of seconds before you rolled your eyes.

“Are you serious?” you huffed, thinking it was a stupid phone call. “We're in college, how about we stop playing Scream and start being more matures?” you said, and just as you were about to hang up, a rather familiar voice croaked out:

“y/n."

You froze, your breath hitching as your brain tried to convince itself that you had heard right “Anderson?” you were in shock for a couple of seconds, Ellie furrowed his eyebrows and looked at you in utter disbelief. When the casual anger grew inside you with just the mention of her name appeared you snapped at her. “Do you know what hour it is… No. Why the fuck are you calling me in first place?” you rolled your eyes. For just a couple of hours that you were enjoying yourself with your best friend, of course she had to come and ruin it. She always does and always will.

She was silent for an instant before her voice breaks out in a whimper that makes your stomach flip.

“Please.”

“W…What?” your eyebrows were knitted together so hard it was painful. Ellie just hits you in the arm, silently asking you to tell her what’s going on. You just swatted her hand away and lift a finger to quiet her.

“Please.” she repeated.

“Are you drunk or something? You should-“ you started, but she was quick to cut you off.

“y/n…” that was something different. The way your name fell from her lips in such need, hunger… “Come over. Please come over. I need you so bad…”

“I-“

“y/n, what is it?” Ellie spoke up, and you could hear the tension from the other part of the line rise.

“Fuck. Is Williams there with you?” Abby affirmed more than asked.

“y/n!” Ellie asked again.

“y/n.” but the voice of Anderson on the other line had you too out of focus. The way you could hear the begging on her tone, the need…

You didn’t know what had gotten over you, but you found yourself quick on your feet to grab your dorm keys.

“Wait for me.”

Ellie stood up as well and watch you hang up and made your way out of your room after putting on a pair of shoes.

“Where are you going?” Ellie inquired, completely and utterly lost. “You’re leaving?”

“I’ll be right back, I promise. I think there’s something wrong with Anderson. You can continue with the serie and use my bed, alright?” you quickly muttered, and when you caught her stepping closer and raising her hand to say something and find out whatever the hell was going on, you closed the door on her face.

You made your way over to her room’s wing, having been there before to parties and so. And before you knew it, you had knocked on her door. You didn’t have to wait a long time before she appeared on its threshold, her normally perfectly combed and braided hair being a mess, shirtless and with only a pair of sweats and a sports bra on. She looked like a mess, with red cheeks, swollen bitten lips, glassed eyes and shaky breathing.

“Anderson, what the hell are you…” a scream almost got ripped out of you at the harsh yank that took place on your arm. Before you knew it you had been pulled inside and smashed against the now closed door of her room, her body towering over yours and her breath caressing your face.

Fuck. You’ve never been this close before.

“You’re driving me insane.” she said, one of her hands cupping your cheek, dark shiny eyes connecting with yours before they’d drift back to your lips. “I’ve been thinking about what you told me all day. Knowing that Williams got to touch you, taste you… Is killing me. And her being in your room? Having you in her arms? Thinking about her just touching you is… Fuck.” you chocked. You didn’t understand. Wasn’t she supposed to hate you? Despise you? Then why…? “I can’t stop imagining her kissing you, holding you…” her thumb pressed over your bottom lip, tugging on it, admiring. “You were supposed to pay attention to me. You were supposed to think about me.” your heart was thumping against your ribs, and you felt like dying when she harshly kissed you. It was fast, and angry. Her tongue was quick to push inside your mouth, your teeth clashing and your body being pulled against her. You whimpered, your hands finding her hair as you pulled her closer. You’d never felt this way. How your whole body seemed to combust, the shaking of your limbs, the thumping of your heart…

But what was going on? ‘Pay attention to her’? ‘Think of her’? What was that supposed to mean? Had Anderson always treat you badly to get your attention? To get under your skin one way or another?

You were burning, so badly that she felt like snow.

“Fuck.” she muttered as she pulled away. “Been dreaming of doing that since the first time you yelled at me.” you whimpered when her warm hands took a harsh hold of your waist, pulling you against her close and tight enough for you to feel her body heat, her hard nipples through her bra.

Her mouth was back on yours, and your whole world was spinning. Her hair on your hands, her gasps against your lips, her pine scent…

“Yeah, that’s right.” she muttered, a little smirk showing in her factions when she noticed your dazed and unfocused eyes. “Focus on me. Just me.” she whispered on your ear before her lips latched to your neck, sucking on your skin hard enough to mark you up. You moaned, her hands sneaking inside your pj’s shirt and slowly making its way upwards, towards your chest.

“Fuck, Anderson.” you gasped when her warm hands took your tits, massaging them and rolling your nipples in between her fingers as she pressed a leg in between your legs, making your aching pussy brush against the lean muscle of her thigh.

“Abby.” she corrected. “It’s Abby for you, baby.”

“Abby.” you moaned when she pushed upwards with her leg, helping you ride it.

“That’s right. But you need to say it a little bit louder, hm? Need to let everybody know that it’s me who you are moaning for.” you whimpered at her words, her large hands leaving your chest to take your hips and pick you up to make her way to her king size bed. She lifted you so easily it was dizzying, the muscles of her arms popping

You felt almost crushed against the duvet when she pinned you down to it underneath her weight. Almost, ‘cause right at that exact moment, you just wished she could be closer, she could be harsher, smush you against the bed and fuck you senseless ‘till you are nothing more than a babbling mess.

“That’s right.” she smirked when you pulled her closer, choked when her hands were once again pulling your top up slowly. “Fuck. You drive me insane.” she muttered when your chest was fully uncovered. “Fucking beautiful.” you moaned when her mouth left wet kisses on your chest. Her tongue circled your nipples as one of her hands made its way to the seam of your pajama pants and panties, which stood completely soaked in arousal.

“Abby.” you cried out when her fingers caressed you from over the lace of your underwear, chuckling at the wetness of them.

“You are so wet for me already, such a good girl…” you almost whimpered, your cheeks blushing at the praise, something that didn’t go unnoticed. “You liked that, hm? Like to be my good little girl?” you nodded, your legs shaking when she finally pushed down your underwear and pjs to touch you. You gasped when her rough and thick fingers pressed against your core, sliding through your folds, pooled in your arousal. “So fucking wet.” she cursed as she circled your clit, making you moan. Her touch was electrifying. “Is all of this for me?” you once again nodded. “I need to hear your pretty voice. Speak up for me, sweetheart.”

“Yes… It’s all for you.” you managed to sputter out.

“Mmh…” she hummed happily with the answer, smirking when you let out a loud moan as she pushed her middle finger inside of you, instantly hitting that spongy spot that could make you come over and over again. “Then I guess that if it’s all for me… I could have a taste. Isn’t that right?” your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you suddenly felt her tongue around your clit at the same time as she thrusted her finger in and out of you, slowly enough to have you gripping at her hair and bucking your hips in search of more.

She complied, starting to eat you out like a woman starved. And she kind of was, having been craving you for years and years… She craved you, needed you so badly that her composure had plummeted once you’ve told her that Ellie had touched you, kissed you, tasted you first…

She wanted you. Wanted you to be solely and completely hers.

“Ah, Abby, shit…” you were so sensitive. More than usually. Was it because Abby was too good at eating you out or because it was Abby who was eating you out?

“Louder, baby. I need you to be louder for me.” she said before going back to you, her tongue lapping up at your juices and adding another finger. Their thickness made you cry out her name loud enough for the whole floor to hear. You just hoped that there was no teacher doing the check-ins that night or you’d be screwed.

“Abby, I’m… I’m gonna…” your grip tightened on her hair.

“You’re gonna come? Gonna come on my face, hm?” she curved her fingers upwards, relentlessly hitting your g spot over and over again, pulling you closer to your orgasm. “Go ahead, come for me. Let me have it.”

She didn’t need to say it twice. With her tongue back circling your clit, you moaned as you came, harsh, on her tongue, her helping you to extend you climax by thrusting in and out her fingers whilst lapping at your release, drinking everything you had to offer in between moans and hums.

When she let go of you, licking her two fingers clean, you were a flustered mess; with your hair sticking everywhere, red cheeks, swollen lips and glossy eyes. And she wasn’t that different from you, with her chin and red puffy lips shiny with your juices, her cheeks were flushed and her hair a beautiful blonde mess that you had created in between tugs and caresses. She looked beautiful, so beautiful that you couldn’t help dragging her towards you to taste yourself off of her lips, one of your hands finding her aching pussy, soaking her panties. She groaned in your mouth, pulling from your hair to part ways.

“Abby…” you cried out, your eyes half-lidded with need, your pussy aching for her.

“What is it, hm?” oh but she already knew… “Haven’t you had enough already? I gave you my fingers and my mouth, is that not enough for you? What a needy slut…” you moaned at her harsh tone and degradation, the contrast with the recent praise making your skin burn and your body cry for her. You needed her so badly… So much that you swore you could die. “Want me to fuck you, hm? Want me to make you cum all over my cock? Have you all brainless as I use you?”

“Yes please Abby, please, I want it.”

“So pretty begging for me, do you want it that bad?” you nodded, squirming under her touch and whimpering when she gave your thigh a harsh slap. “Can’t hear you, beautiful.”

“Yes.” you cried out, loving how harsh she was treating you, loving the idea that she would use you just for her pleasure.

“Then say it. Beg me to fuck you.” another spank.

“Please Abby, I want you to make me cum all over your cock, please, please, please… I need it. I need you.” tears swelled in your eyes as you stuttered.

“Good girl. Wasn’t that hard, was it?” she said with a smirk, quickly shoving his sweats and underwear down her thighs to discard them aside and reach out for her drawers, pulling out her strap. You almost choked at the size. You couldn’t take that.

It was huge. So thick and large that you knew that she’d tear you apart, stretch you out so good that would leave you sobbing and drooling against her pillow as she fucked into you over and over again.

“What? Bigger than William’s?” she teased you as she towered over you, strapping it to her waist. You would have answered if you weren’t too focused on the pink of its head and on the veins of its sides. On her pussy too. “You’re staring, pretty girl.” you blushed, looking away and into her eyes.

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me, Abby.” you snapped, and she groaned, once again pinning you underneath her and kissing you feverishly. You parted your legs for her to position herself in between them.

“There it is. That fucking mouth of yours. How about I fuck the attitude out of you, hm?” you gasped on her mouth when you felt the head of the strap play with your cunt, slowly dragging up and down in between your slicked folds to lube it up, teasing you at your entrance, pushing just the slightest against it. You were so fucking wet… More than you had ever been before.

“Fuck Abby, please…” you whimpered, your hips thrusting against the tip of her cock. You needed it inside.

Your nails found her back as she finally, after hearing your pleads and begging, aligned herself and started to push the tip of her cock inside, leaving you breathless at the stretch.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” she hushed you as you whimpered with every inch. “You are gonna do good for me, isn't that right baby? You are gonna take it, gonna take my cock and cum on it over and over again, right?” you nodded, sinking your nails deeper in her skin, deep enough to make her bleed. But Abby didn’t care, ‘cause she was finally making you hers, and you were so goddamn tight she was losing her mind. She couldn’t even pull backwards at the clenching of your walls.

You were crying of pleasure and due to the overwhelming sensation of her huge cock when she finally had settled herself fully inside, the tip reaching places you’d never dreamed of, the girth stretching your walls so good it was almost painful. Almost.

"Fuck. Look at you. Already crying and I haven't begun to fuck you yet.” you moaned when she started to slowly fuck into you, so deep that you were going crazy. You needed more, so much more. “Shit, you’re so fucking wet.”

“More. Please Abby, more.” you called out for her, your whimpers filling the room more and more as she started to move faster and faster.

“Yeah, that’s right. Fucking take it.” she groaned, lost on how good you felt. She never wanted to leave. Never wanted to stop feeling you this close. “Such a good girl.”

You moaned, your eyes turning white at the pleasure. This was like nothing you had experienced before.

“Tell me, did Williams fucked you this good, huh?” she asked, taking your cheeks with her right hand as she rolled your clit with her left to make you look at her. “Did she make you drool? Made you cry?”

You shook your head, but she wasn’t happy with that.

“Say it. Say that no one’s has fucked you like me. Say it, baby. Use that pretty mouth of yours.”

“No one has ever… ever fucked me like you.” you somehow achieved to say in between moans and gasps.

“That’s right. Look at you, your pussy is taking me so good… Sucking me in as if you don’t want me to leave.”

Suddenly you were in all fours, your chest against the mattress as she pounded inside of you harder and harder, so hard that you could feel her in your cervix, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” you cried out, drooling on her pillow, tears spilling due to how good she was making you feel.

Her hands found your hips, pulling you against her hips with every hard thrust, leaving you breathless.

You were a babbling and moaning mess, incapable to form any words, even her name.

“Look at you, so cock drunk you can’t even speak.” she said, and moaned when the strap rubbed perfectly her puffy clit. “Such a slut.” you whimpered when she gave you a harsh slap on your ass, her eyes focusing on how her dick disappeared in and out of your pussy, which now seemed to be molding around her and just her.

“Abby…” you dragged the ‘y’ as she sped up, fucking you brainless, calling her name over and over again.

She could feel the way you started to clench around the silicone. The wet noises of your juices and her thrusts filled the room with your high pitched moans. You were close. So fucking close…

“Abby, I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna…” your voice was so fucked up due to your screams that you swore you’d have a sore throat tomorrow morning, but you didn’t care.

“That’s alright sweetheart. Why don’t you come all over my dick, hm? Let me see you fall apart.” and you did. You came so hard you saw stars, your ears ringing as you squirted all over her bed sheets. “Fuck, good girl. Good. fucking. girl.” she groaned at the sight of your cunt gushing around her whole cock.

You were an incoherent mess as you came over and over again, drooling on her pillow and throwing her over the edge with a ‘fuck’.

And maybe and just maybe, you stopped hating Abby that much from now on.

‘Cause we all know what they say… From hatred to love there is only one step.

-

a/n; i hoped y’all liked this college abby!! love you!!!!🩵

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<33333

[byproducts-of-my-imagination]

Everyone Hates Todo Except You

The best part about Todo is that you don’t have to put yandere in front of him because his normal behavior already screams delusional and obsessive.   You cannot convince me that he doesn’t sniff all your things as soon as you’re not looking.  He’s just so intense.  I love this man, need to catch up on jjk.

~1k words. Thank you to whoever requested this and I hope you enjoy!

At the Kyoto branch, nobody really bothers sticking their nose in Todo’s business.  But when there’s an enormous mound of trash bags outside his room that just keeps getting bigger, concerning glances and eyebrow raises no longer cut it.  Normally his antics earn a side eye or two, but lately it’s been a little much, even for him.  At the breakfast table the next day, the girls decide to draw straws to see who has to tell him to move his shit.

“It’s not fair!  Why do I have to do it?”  Miwa groans, cursing her bad luck for the thousandth time.  

“It is fair, you just happened to draw the short straw now go deal with it!  We'll back you up.”  Mai grins, knowing full well she rigged it.

Kasumi Miwa would rather be doing literally anything else at this moment.  She timidly knocks on the door, and says, “Todo?  Could you move all this stuff please?  You’re starting to block the hallway.”

“Yeah I’ll get to it whenever I get the rest of this junk cleaned up.  Don’t worry there’s no food waste so there shouldn’t be any smell.”

“B-but Todo…. It's been almost a week now…”  The only response was the muted sound of shuffling.

Miwa looks back in defeat at her so-called “back up” as they peek from behind the corner.  Their best bet now is to get one of the boys to convince him.  And if they fail it’s straight to Utahime-sensei.  

Todo looks at his room, emptier than it’s ever been.  He knew this was the likeliest outcome.  Takada-chan was a beloved idol, and even if she liked him back (which he thought she might have at some point) there was no way she could be with him.  He knew, but it doesn't mean it hurt any less.  There were years of carefully collected merch, thousands of dollars being stuffed into trash bags to be thrown away.  But instead of the despair he carefully denied for years, he didn’t feel any loss throwing away all the autographed posters and pictures.  No, he had something much better now, someone who could actually be with him in this wretched, boring world.  He had his wonderful, gorgeous, beautiful, perfect in every way girlfriend.  And while you weren’t aware that you were destined to be with him yet, he would make sure you’d know soon.  As soon as he finished purging his space of Takada-chan (it wouldn’t do to have pictures of an old flame) he’d confess.  

A few days later he was tying up the last trash bag, ready to enact his plan.  He asked you to meet him under the largest tree in the forest on the edge of the training field.  Several hypothetical scenarios floated through his mind, and he focused on the one where you’d enthusiastically said you loved him back and then he married you and had many children.  As he neared the confession site, Todo felt yet another arrow go through his heart as you came into view.  I’ll never get tired of seeing her.

“Todo, is everything okay?  What’s up?”  A shiver ran down Todo’s spine, goosebumps rising.  God, even your voice was perfect.

“I love you.  Promise me, y/n.  That we’ll spend the rest of our lives together.”  He got down on one knee like a proposal, looking up at you like a devout follower.

“Todo… I don’t know about the rest of our lives but why don’t we start with a date?  I like you too.”  While you were a bit taken aback by his forwardness, you brush it off as Todo being Todo.  You never disliked his honesty and unabashedness.

“My girlfriend!! I knew you felt the same!”  A single tear ran down Todo’s face.   

Back to the dorms, it wasn’t long before everyone found out and congregated at your room to badger you with questions.  

“Ugh that gorilla?  You guys are dating now?”  Nishimiya asked, firmly believing Todo to be an improper and inadequate boyfriend.  

“I thought he only had eyes for that idol Takado or whatever,” Miwa chimes.

“It’s Takada,” Mai corrects, not able to make eye contact with Nishimiya’s suspicious glance in her direction. 

“We’re dating now!  He just asked me out, and he’s really good to me.” you reply, thinking of how Todo insisted on carrying you back to the dorms, gently setting you down before running off saying he needed to ‘prepare’.  

“You can do way better than Todo, trust us.” The girls all nod in agreement.  However, Todo is outside your room balancing a tray of perfectly cooked lunch and a cold pitcher of water.  

“What are you guys talking about?”  he knows already, but wants to hear them say it to his face.  

“How y/n is too good for the likes of you.”  Mai minces no words for Todo.  With the uncomfortable tension rising, the Kyoto girls hastily make an exit.  

“My love, I made lunch for us.  I know I am not handsome, or come from wealth and a good sorcerer family like some of our classmates.  But I will be devoted.  I will never stray from you, I’d die if you asked me to.”  he says, as he sets the meal on your small desk, pulling out utensils and napkins.  His normal confidence seems to waver a bit, and it seems that not even Todo is immune to worrying about what other people think of him.  

“Todo, don’t worry about what they say and please don’t say you’ll die for me.  I like you a lot, I wouldn’t have accepted your confession if I didn’t.  I also think you’re quite handsome.”  

“You love me back?”  he whispers, kneeling at the edge of your bed, looking up at you.  While it’s a bit too early to tell, Todo’s hopeful, reverent look has you obliging him. 

“I do love you back.”  He embraces you, and you can hear his heartbeat in his bare chest.  It feels good to be loved so wholeheartedly, and you’ll give him all the love you have to repay him.  

[band--psycho]

Harvey Specter x Reader - Fight

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Thank you all for the continued support!

It's been a while since I've written for Harvey!

I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over.

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms

For my ongoing A-Z Challenge and for @shamelesstrekkie13 who requested this story a few months ago (Part 2)

Masterlist / Harvey Specter Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Warnings: Angst, Harvey being mean

“Hey handsome,” Y/n said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she looked at the man she loved, who’d recently been working himself to the bone for his new client. 

“Hey baby,” Harvey greeted back, looking up momentarily to smile at her before his eyes went straight back to the paperwork in front of him.

Her smile fell slightly. 

This case had been a nightmare, and the client had been nothing but an arrogant, pain in the ass.

For the last month, Harvey had been working diligently on this case, but the last few weeks were when things got really stressful. 

She didn’t know why. She couldn’t know why. Client Confidentiality and all, but she’d seen a change in Harvey. 

And this last week had been the tipping point, all he’d done for the past week was work; he’d barely even slept, and it showed, he was snappy with pretty much everyone, Louis, Mike even Donna…of course Donna and Mike understood why, this case was huge for not just Harvey but for the firm too, but he needed a break. 

Y/n tried to never intervene with Harveys work, she knew better than anyone how a case could take over ones life, she had fallen victim to it more than a few times, allowing the case and the clients to take precedence over everything else, including herself and Harvey was always there by her side, to pull her out of the work she’d buried herself in so deeply. 

Now it was her turn to do the same for him. 

To help him the way he’d always helped her. 

“It’s late,” she continued as she made her way into his office, stopping just a few inches away from his desk, “We should go home.”

Harvey leaned back in his chair, a small sigh falling from his lips as he once again pulled his eyes away from his paperwork to look at Y/n, the dark circles under his eyes evident now that she was closer to him. 

“You go, I’m gonna stay here,” 

“Harv-”

“I’m okay,” he assured her; with a smile she knew was fake. 

Harvey was not someone who got stressed easily, in all the years she’d known him, she’d rarely known it to happen, and of course he would never admit that he ‘the great Harvey Specter’ was in fact stressed and exhausted. 

“No you’re not,” she stated softly, moving around the desk so that she was standing next to Harvey. 

Two lawyers dating was never easy, the long hours, the schedules, it was hard to spend quality time together but they’d always managed it, no matter what was happening at work. 

She missed him. She missed how his fingers would brush against her waist when he held her close, missed the forehead kisses he would give her just as she was falling to sleep, missed hearing his laugh when they’d watch a shitty comedy show; she missed being close to him. 

She knew it was selfish, but she couldn’t help how she felt.

Being this close to him, she saw how big and dark the circles under his eyes were; if she had the strength she’d just pick him up and remove him from the office, take him home and let him rest. But she was not that strong, so she was going to have to work on trying to persuade him.

She reached her arm out to him, placing her hand on his cheek, caressing it softly,“How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

A few moments of silence passed, before Harvey pressed a soft kiss on the palm of her hand, Y/n thought that meant that he was listening to her and that he was going to come home with her and get some much needed rest. 

That was until Harveys hand lightly grabbed her wrist and placed it back into her lap. 

“I’ve got work to do,” he replied simply, turning his attention back to his paperwork. 

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to work out what she could say to him that wouldn’t aggravate him and would get him to listen to her.

“Harvey, you need to sleep,” she pointed out, the worry in her eyes growing with every moment that passed between them. 

“I do sleep,” he answered bluntly; his tone catching Y/n off guard completely. 

“Not for more than a few hours you don’t,” she challenged back, it was going to take more then his blunt tone to make her leave.

Why wouldn’t he just listen to her? Why couldn’t he see that all she was trying to do was help? Why did he have to be so difficult?

“I’m fin-”

“No you’re not,”

“Sorry, when did you become a therapist?” He snapped, the fury in his eyes evident as he looked at her once more, “I said I’m fine and I meant it” 

“Look, I know you’re tired but you can’t keep snapping at people like this,” she reasoned, or at least attempted  to. Y/n knew if he kept going on like this, he would end up making an enemy of everyone in his firm.

“I will snap at anyone who interrupts me from doing my goddamn work, and that includes you,” 

“You’re not going to get any work done unless you rest properly,” she was trying so hard to keep her cool, to keep calm, he was exhausted and stressed, he was just snapping at her because she was there. 

But she could feel her anger slowly beginning to build; she knew how he felt, she understood why he was acting and talking the way he was, but it didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt. 

“Well you’re always pretty well rested and I’m still a better lawyer than you,”

That. That comment felt like a slap in the face to Y/n. 

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down and stop herself from lashing out and adding fuel to an already growing fire. 

“Harvey-” 

She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence, before he was already talking again, his pupils dilated and his tone harsh, “What? You want me to apologize for telling the truth? There’s a reason you work at Rand, Kaldor and Zayne and not here,”

And that was the tipping point.  To get snappy at her was one thing, but to mock where she worked, her profession that she worked so hard for was another thing entirely. 

She wanted to shout back at him and she was going to, until she realised there was no point; all her shouting would do would cause an argument, one where they just took cheap shots at each other until one of them said something they couldn’t come back from. 

She wasn’t going to do that. 

She didn’t have the energy. 

So she walked towards the door of Harvey’s office; only turning around to look at him and say one simple sentence. Her voice was a calm as she could get it, but it still had a hint of anger laced in it, “You know why I don’t work here,” 

And then she left Harvey.

Alone in his office. 

And Y/n tried not to let her anger turn into tears as she headed towards the elevator, leaving the firm.

Tagging:

@little-diable @rebelwrites @xacatalepsyx @wild-rose-35 @withmyteeth @yn-ymn-yln @cyberhexed @maximoff-xmen @vintagecarsandrecordplayers @wretchedmo @mayans-mc @fangirlsfandomsss @happilysparklyunknown @samanthaofanarchy @mrsamerica @navs-bhat @tinystudentmiracle @that-one-enthusiast @malfoys-demigod @siriusblack15 @nd264 @taintedstranger @theestorm

[juniperskye]

Scars

Based on the following ask: Hi 🤍 I hope your requests are not too full already - but for weeks I‘ve been dreaming about kind of shy Hotch (due to his scars he got from scratch Foyet yn) and I would die to read smut where he is kind of shy at first bc he thinks reader will not find him hot and ahh and she obviously does and they just have the best night eveeeer then bc he finally lets go 🫣 what do you think????? I would dieeeee to read it from you! – Hey lovely, this idea is really sweet, and I am going to keep it on the slow intimate side, I just feel like Aaron opening up about the scars would lead to something slow and passionate…still smut tho!

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Fluff/SMUT

Word count: 691

Not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, SMUT, mention of Foyet (the stabbing), established relationship with Hotch, explicit language, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than female anatomy, use of pet names, p in v, unprotected sex, anxiety, a little body dysmorphia…let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

The door flew open as the lock gave way. Aaron had you pressed against it, lips connected in a passionate kiss. His hands were gripping the hem of your shirt, right where it rested at your waist.

See here’s the thing, Aaron and you had been seeing one another for a few months now. With his job keeping him incredibly busy, you assured him there was no pressure, you’d go on dates and get to know one another when he was in town. That, you were okay with…but what was becoming increasingly frustrating was the fact that you hadn’t had sex yet.

Now, you’d be perfectly fine with taking things slow, only Aaron hasn’t said anything. He instead had just done everything he can to avoid getting in a compromising position with you…but tonight, it seems like that might change.

--

Your shirt was lost somewhere in the entryway along with both of your shoes and Aaron’s coat. His lips had made their way down to where your shoulder and neck met. Aaron was walking behind you, carefully leading you to his bedroom.

As you passed the threshold, Aaron spun you around. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you into his lap. He let his lips meet yours once again while you let your hands slide down to the buttons of his dress shirt. After you’d gotten a few open, Aaron grabbed your wrists and froze.

When you pulled back you were met with his pained expression, and even deeper, fear had been written behind it.

You were quick to pull your hands back and step down off of Aaron’s lap.

--

“I’m sorry Aaron. I shouldn’t have.”

“No! Don’t apologize.” Aaron began, hesitantly. “Sweetheart, I need to show you something. Something I have been worried about…which is why I’ve been avoiding this.” He gestured between the two of you.

Just as you opened your mouth to reply, Aaron unbuttoned the remainder of his shirt and pulled it off, dropping it to the floor.

“It was a case we were working years ago. The unsub…he had broken into my home, and then this happened.”

A quiet gasp escaped you. Adorning Aaron’s body were nine nearly identical scars. Your gaze met his as you lifted your hand, pulling it back, afraid to upset him. He offered a small nod, grabbing your hand and bringing it to rest on his bare chest. Your fingers danced from one scar to the next, a tear silently making its way down your cheek.

Aaron reached up, wiping it away with his thumb. “What’s wrong honey.” He asked.

“I just can’t believe someone would do this to you.”

Aaron and you shared a quiet moment of understanding. His job was dangerous and sometimes he got hurt because of it, but he came out the other side…with newfound strength each time.

--

You’re not quite sure when the air shifted, but one moment you were sat there holding one another, and the next, you were sharing a heated kiss, attempting to remove the remainder of your clothing.

Once you were both fully stripped, Aaron settled himself against the headboard, reaching his hand out for you. He pulled you into his lap, at first, just holding you there while his lips explored the expanse of your neck.

Your hands found their way to Aaron’s hair, carding through it…tugging ever so slightly. He shifted the two of you ever so slightly so he could ease himself into your heat. Your head falling back, loving every bit of the stretch.

Aarons arms were wrapped tightly around you, desperately gripping you to him, as you gently rocked back and forth. This wasn’t about the sex…this was about vulnerability and intimacy. A moment where two people have bared their souls to one another.

--

The two of you spent the evening wrapped in the sheets, a mess of tangled limbs. You expressed your love for one another in ways you hadn’t before. This was the beginning of you future, one in which you wouldn’t have to hold back. One in which Aaron wasn’t afraid of what you might think.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust

[tasteleeknow]

BETWEEN

PAIRING: minho + chan x fem!reader GENRE: smut. fluff. f2l. roommates au. threesome/poly. CONTENT: 18+ minors dni. WORD COUNT: 5k

SUMMARY: Your two roommates are your best friends in the world. You’d also love nothing more than to be sandwiched between them. Queue tension and smut with feelings.

do not repost to other sites, including translations.

It’s laundry day, a day you’ve put off a little long. You end up grabbing a shirt from Minho’s clean clothing he’d left in the dryer to throw over your head as you wait for your own load to finish. Neither of them were around. You’re leaning over the counter to grab a paper towel when the front door opens. You peak around the corner just as Chris is throwing his shoes aside. Okay, this is fine. The shirt is just long enough to hang over the tops of your thighs, covering the pale blue underwear you’d slept in.

There’s no escape. You’re going to have to face your friend in your underwear. Be casual about it, you tell yourself. It’s not a big deal. You really needed to stop putting off doing laundry. 

You continue with your task, wiping down the kitchen bench as your eggs fry. “Are you hungry?!” you call out. “I’m making breakfast if you want anything.” 

He was always up before you and Minho, spending his early mornings at the gym. 

“I’m starv…ing….” he trails off from behind you. Alright, so he’d noticed the no pants thing. Act casual. 

“Good, I’m making extra. I thought—” 

Then he’s behind you, not quite touching, but hovering so close you're forced to pause your cleaning. He leans over you. “You can wear mine, if you like,” he says, tugging a little at the hem of Minho’s t-shirt. 

Then he’s gone. The shower starts just as the dryer announces your clothes are ready. 

—

You’d hoped your regular nightmares would be left in childhood. But as you’d grown out of your favourite shoes and your allergy to soy, your nightmares had stuck. The first time you’d crept into Minho’s room after a particularly bad one, you’d nudged him awake hesitantly. He’d welcomed you under his covers, unquestioning. They stayed away with him, with Chris too the few times he’d fallen asleep in your bed. It was only when you were alone that your sleep was disturbed. 

Minho is curled up on his side when you crawl under his sheets, shuffling as close to him as possible without touching. He still stirs when you roll over to face the edge of the bed. He would always wake up when you joined him. He connects his front to your back, as always. But then, with a small contented noise from his throat, his hand slips up under the hem of your shirt—his warm palm resting against your stomach. 

This is new. 

“Min?” you whisper. 

When he doesn’t respond, you roll over. His hand slips to rest on your back. You reach up to brush his hair behind his ear, tucking the soft strands away from his eyes. His hair was longer than you’d ever seen it. He hadn’t bothered getting it cut. He hums, almost a purr. He’s awake. “Does it bother you when I sleep here?” you whisper.

His brows pull together slightly and then he tugs you a little closer, pressing you right up against his chest. You have a feeling that’s all the answer you’ll be receiving. 

You watch as he drifts off. It only takes him a few minutes. His features go slack, lips parting slightly as his breathing evens out. You follow him shortly after. 

It’s only a few hours later that you find yourself staring at the ceiling—Minho’s legs tangled with your own. The nightmare that had led you into this room had been particularly bad, startling you awake with a racing heart. You’re usually fine after joining Minho. But not tonight. It’s enough that you find yourself creeping from his bedroom in the early hours of the morning, completely giving up on more sleep. It’s unsurprising when you find Chris awake, lounging on the couch with a book in his hands. He often had a worse time with sleep than you did. 

“Nightmare?” he says as you settle into his side, resting your head against his shoulder. 

“Mm. Nothing new, it was just… more intense.” 

He lifts the woollen blanket off his legs and drapes it over you. “Intense?” he questions. 

“He-It… stood right over me. It usually just gets to my door before I wake up but… it walked right up to my bed and just… stood there. It felt like he was going to lunge at me any second… it was—” you cut yourself off as you bury your face in his shoulder, a shiver running up your spine. 

“You’re alright,” he soothes. “Promise.” 

“I know. I just… I hate sleeping alone.”

Minho chooses that moment to stumble into the room, fluffy socks sliding along the floorboards as he runs his fingers through his hair. He collapses onto the couch beside you seconds later, dropping his head into your lap as he stretches out as much as he can along the cushions.

Chris huffs out a breathy laugh beside you, draping his arm over your shoulder—book forgotten. “Problem solved,” he says. 

“Where’d you go?” Minho mumbles from your lap, eyes closed. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” you answer as you brush his hair from his face, the soft brown strands a pleasant occupation for your hands. 

A bolt of lightning lights up the room, drowning out the soft glow from the lamp Chris had been using to read. “The storm?” Minho questions as you play with his hair, stroking some of the strands around his temples. 

“My dreams,” you correct. 

“You don’t have them with me.” 

“I know… but the one I had earlier just lingered, I guess.” 

All three of you are quiet as rain starts falling, the type of rain that falls heavy with no build up—creating a curtain between you and the world.

“Stop sleeping alone, then,” Minho says. “Just stay with me.” 

You take a moment to process his meaning. Then, “Everynight?” 

“Mm.” 

The corner of your mouth lifts a little. They were so good to you, both of them. “Love you,” you whisper as your fingers brush the shell of his ear. 

He says nothing, his upper lip twitching a little. 

You told them both as often as you could. You loved them more than anyone on earth. They had to know. It had morphed though, the type of love. That was always how you knew you’d end up loving someone. You had to know them so completely that you were safe, comfortable. Love them as friends, then as lovers. 

It was the way Minho would keep one eye on you in public, when he knew you’d get overwhelmed. He always managed to catch onto when you wanted to leave before you’d even had a chance to voice it. He was quiet with his love, softly spoken words of comfort that you’d absorb without moving a muscle. If you moved, he might startle—shrink back into his comfort zone. 

Chris’ attention was a little different. Rambling words, tripping over himself as he told you about his day. A hand on your back as you made your way through the busy weekend market. While Minho kept his eye on you from a distance, Chris was up close—physical contact and direct questioning. 

A clap of thunder rumbles through the sky as Chris detangles himself from you. “Hot chocolate?” he asks. 

“Mm, thank you.” 

“Minho?” he prompts.

The man in question grunts out something that Chris interprets as a yes. “Three hot chocolates,” he says as he disappears into the kitchen, leaving you with a half asleep man in your lap. You continue playing with his hair as the storm intensifies. You’d always liked storms. They formed a protective barrier from the rest of the world. The air was washed clean, the suffocating heat of summer days was quashed, and no one expected anything from you.

You begin tracing over the tiny scars and imperfections that mark Minho’s face, little traces of evidence from his life before you’d met. It was hard to imagine that you’d ever been without him. It was only out of ignorance that you’d endured it. 

“Do you really not mind if I sleep with you?” you ask, hoping he won’t retract his offer. “You won’t get sick of me?” 

His eyes flutter open, long dark lashes visible even in the dim light. “I like it,” he says simply. I love you, you hear. 

—

It’s an easy routine to fall into. Your room becomes a glorified closet as you spend each night in Minho’s instead. He even puts up with your pillow talk, and on nights where he’s particularly energetic, he offers a few thoughtful comments in addition to his hums of acknowledgement. 

The feeling of the mattress dipping as someone sinks into the bed behind you wakes you. It’s the smell of his shampoo that tells you it’s Chris that wraps around you. “You awake?” he whispers. 

“Mm, couldn’t sleep?” 

“Yeah,” he confirms. 

Minho makes a small noise before draping his leg over you, smacking his lips before stilling again. You’re completely enveloped now, two warm bodies sheltering you from the darkness. Chris didn’t join you often. You’d spent a few nights with your back to the dark room wishing he would. Minho’s bed was centred in the room. You preferred having yours pushed against the wall. It felt safer. 

Chris makes a small contended noise as he presses up behind you.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he whispers after a moment, breath ghosting over your neck. “You bent over the counter… your thighs…” It takes you off guard. You know what he’s talking about, despite it being weeks ago that he caught you in Minho’s shirt. You find yourself unable to breathe, heart thumping so loud you're sure he must hear it. “It’s wrong—dirty to think about you that way,” he continues. “I know. I know I shouldn’t.” 

“Why?” 

A pause. “What?” 

“Why is it wrong?” 

He’s quiet. Then, “Because you don’t want it.” 

“How do you know?” 

His hand rests at your hip, a comforting hold. He’s quiet as you reach down to take his hand in yours and guide it up to your lips. You press a kiss to the side of his hand, just below his thumb. A slow kiss, one you hope conveys all the meaning you intend it to. 

When you release him, he doesn’t move. Not apart from brushing his thumb over your lips. He can’t see at all what he’s doing, still behind you in the dark room. He goes by feel, playing with your lower lip until—with a tiny amount of pressure—he pushes inside. Your lips wrap around him, taking his thumb as he presses it to your tongue. 

Then he starts whispering, “I wanted to hold you down, press you into the counter and lift the shirt a little higher.” 

You hum around his thumb, wrapping your own fingers around his wrist to hold him there. You’re not dreaming, you’re sure of it. You’re awake and sandwiched between the two people you love most. It’s surreal. This was always the way it would have gone. Chris was always going to be the one to bring you all together, finally.

He continues, “How would you sound?” His breathing is heavier now. “If I fucked you against it? Would you make pretty little noises? Would you say my name?” His thumb moves in and out a little as you suck at it. “I can’t stop thinking about it. How warm are you… how would you suck me in…” 

Minho makes a small noise and you both still, waiting to see if he’ll wake. 

“Have you ever heard him whine your name?” Chris starts again. His low whispers are a little more hushed now. “He tries not to. He tries so hard. He usually does it in the shower, when he knows you aren’t home.” 

Your grip tightens on his wrist. 

Chris continues, “You know how he is: he’s shy.” Warm lips to your neck, a firm press. “He wants you though.” His nose brushes the skin behind your ear as he nuzzles a little further into you. Then he laughs, quiet and breathy. “He was so casual when he said you should sleep here, like he doesn’t wrap his hand around his cock and imagine he was brave enough to fuck you into the mattress.”

You pull your lips from his thumb, leaving it wet. “Are you—Are you sure?” you whisper, attempting to turn your head to face him. His hand wraps around your throat, holding you in place and preventing you from turning. 

“I’d never lie to you, baby.” His fingers are gentle at your neck, his thumb stroking your skin slowly. “I love you.” It’s surreal hearing those words in such a new context. Whispered into your neck as his wet thumb traces patterns against your throat. “Should we wake him up? We’ll have to be gentle,” he murmurs into your hair. “Don’t want him to startle.” 

“Chris?” It’s almost a whine. 

“Mm?” he hums, hips pressed right up against you now. 

“Love you too.” 

His fingers press slightly into your neck as he adjusts himself behind you. “Mm, I know.” Then his hand drops from your neck, across your hips, to your lower back. He pushes you a little, moving you across the mattress towards Minho. He still has one leg draped over yours. “Make sure he does. I’m not sure if he knows the same way I do.” He nudges you a little more. “Go on.” 

Minho’s lips are parted. You reach to brush his plush upper lip with the tips of your fingers. Then, with far too much gentleness for someone trying to wake a person, you snake your hand around the back of his neck and into his hair. “Min,” you call gently as your fingers caress his scalp. “Minho.” 

You watch his brows furrow as he stirs. Then his eyes flutter open. His lashes were visible even in the dim light. As you watch them flutter you’re reminded of a morning you’d awoken to find him half draped over you, his face buried in your neck. As his eyes had blinked open only minutes later, you’d felt them—his lashes tickling your neck like the fluttering wings of a butterfly. 

“Mm?” he hums now, still blinking himself awake. 

“I love you.” 

He frowns, then grumbles something under his breath before rolling over away from you. You suspect he doesn’t understand how you mean it, that you don’t mean it exactly the way you always do. Another tactic then. 

“Do you think about me in the shower?” 

You feel the bed dip a little, Chris moving behind you. A tiny muffled noise follows. He was laughing into your pillow. 

Minho is still. 

You attempt to repeat yourself, “I said do you—” 

“I heard,” Minho says, still facing away from you. His voice is rough from sleep. “What is he doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” the man in question answers from behind you. “Was kept awake by thoughts of bending our girl over the kitchen counter.” 

Our girl. Our girl. Our—

Minho sits up. So quickly it startles you.

“Are you gonna answer her question?” Chris prods. 

Minho rubs at his eyes as he turns to face you. You sit up, partly just so you can reach up and smooth down a tuft of stubborn hair that sticks out from his temple. He licks his lips. “What’s happening?” he mumbles. 

“I love you,” you repeat. He looks at you now, in that way that clearly betrays the cogs are turning. You press your lips together in poorly suppressed fondness as he processes. 

“You… love me?” he says finally. 

You press a kiss to his cheek in answer, an innocent peck. 

“Answer the question,” Chris says from his reclined position on your pillows, clearly enjoying the show. You don’t turn to him, but you can picture the grin on his face clear as day. 

Minho blinks. You decide to help him a little, “In the shower?” 

His eyes drop, breaking eye contact. 

“I have too,” you offer. “I’ve thought about you.” His eyes are back on yours. You’re half tempted to call a pause so you can flick a light on. The darkness is stealing the depth of his brown eyes from you. “I only ever think about either of you—both of you sometimes. I felt a little guilty… I-I didn’t want you to—”

“Both… of us?” he interrupts. 

You can only nod. What do you say to that? 

Then he’s looking over your shoulder, engaging in a silent exchange with Chris. They did this often. You wonder if they’re able to communicate without words because they were merely remembering conversations they had when you weren’t around. Had they had a conversation about you? About this? 

An arm snakes around your waist. Chris drops a soft kiss to your neck, pressing himself so close behind you you’re practically enveloped by him. Safe. Minho reaches towards you, it’s hesitant and you hold your breath as his fingers brush your cheek. Don’t startle him. 

“Me more though, mm?” he asks with a small tilt of his head and a lopsided smirk. 

Chris rocks you to the side a little as he laughs, detaching Minho’s palm from your cheek. That’s the way he was: Minho. Layers of wit and charm blanketing a soft interior. You don’t give me a chance to retreat any further, falling forward out of Chris’ arms and forcing Minho to catch you in his own. He helps you settle in his lap, lifting you a little as you rearrange your limbs. 

“This doesn’t mean I wanna share with anyone else,” you start as you brush the hair from his face. “Just us, yeah?” 

He nods. His eyes flick over your shoulder and then drop to your lips. “Just us,” he agrees. Then his lips are brushing yours, teasing just like his words so often are. You pull him to you properly by the back of his neck, his grown out hair offering you plenty of leverage to hold him where you need. He lets you take from him, lets you guide him. Teasing… and then giving. That’s the way he was. 

Chris settles himself behind you. He litters your neck with kisses as you squirm a little in Minho’s lap, attempting to have more, more, more. Your arms are practically wrapped around his head as you lift a little on your knees, grasping at his hair until Chris is pulling you off him. You take in the way you’ve left Minho as you’re tugged back against the other man. His hair is a mess, lips wet and slightly parted as he catches his breath. You’re tempted to reach out and grab at him like a baby reaching for candy. 

But then you’re distracted, tipped onto your side and pulled tight against a solid torso. “There’s no rush,” Chris says with a breathy laugh. “He’s not leaving.” You meet Minho’s eyes as Chris returns his thumb to your mouth. “There you go,” he encourages. “Good girl.” 

Your breathing settles back into a normal rhythm. He was right. You’d been frantic, desperate. If you rush it’d be over—the last thing you want. You can’t help rolling your hips a little though, not when Minho is looking at you the way he is, watching as you suckle on Chris’ thumb. They were yours. Take your time. 

You reach for Chris’ wrist, wrapping your fingers around it as Minho lays his head on his pillow. Chris rolls his hips into you as you pull his finger from your mouth, slowly, right to the tip. He presses his finger back in before you have a chance to do it yourself. You tug him free of your lips. “I thought there was no rush?” you whisper.

His lips ghost over your earlobe as he speaks, “Am I being greedy?” 

“You stole her,” Minho answers before you can. 

“I saved you,” Chris argues before pressing his lips behind your ear. “She was devouring you.” 

“Maybe I wanted to be devoured.” 

You reach for Minho’s hand and bring his finger to your lips, pressing a kiss to his fingertip. Chris resumes his grinding as you slip Minho’s finger into your mouth. Devour. It feels like an appropriate description as you lay there sucking on his finger with Chris leaving messy kisses at your neck. “What would you like?” he mutters between kisses. “Tell me what you want.” 

It’s a loaded question. You decide to answer as simply as you can, distracted by the way Minho watches you suck on his finger. He licks his lips as you pull him from your mouth. “Fuck me like this. Just like this. Surrounding me.” 

“Surrounding you?” Chan questions, his hand at your stomach holding you firm against him. 

“Mm. Feels safe.. I-I like being between you.” 

He presses his face into the hair behind your ear. “You’re safe, baby.” His hand slips into the waistband of your shorts. “Always.” 

Minho shuffles a little closer to you, close enough that he can replace his finger with his lips. You go practically limp as they each prepare you—Chris with his fingers playing with your cunt, and Minho with his tongue in your mouth and his hand up your shirt. Surrounded. It’s so easy to lose yourself like this, to roll your hips and grasp at Minho’s hair, to forget about any shame as you let small whimpers escape into his mouth. Chris is playing, it’s the perfect word to describe the way his fingers prod and swipe at your cunt. He must feel how you drip for him, how his fingers slip easily through your folds, but you’re alone with the desperate pulse—the emptiness that begs to be filled with a dull throb. 

Minho makes a small noise as you tug a little too hard at his hair. He squeezes your breast in his hand as punishment, his palm warm and perfectly sized to hold you. “Are you getting desperate again?” Chris mumbles into your neck. “Be gentle with him, baby.” 

You whimper a little, nipping at Minho’s lip in defiance. He pulls back a little and a flood of anxiety floods into your chest at the thought he might be leaving, that you’d pushed it too far. But then he’s shuffling down the bed and lifting your shirt up, tugging the fabric up above your tits. He stays there, his breath warm against your nipples as his fingers trace patterns across your skin. 

“Listen,” Chris whispers. His fingers speed up without warning, strumming at your entrance—too low to brush your clit. His goal is clear when the wet sounds of your slick fill the room, his fingers stopping their rapid strumming to prod at your hole every few seconds. You should be embarrassed, you would be in any other situation. But not here. Not with them. 

You feel Minho’s whispered, “Fuck.” His breath is hot before he latches onto your breast. It’s a wonderful distraction as your shorts and underwear are tugged down your legs and discarded, as Chris aligns himself behind you and slips his cock between your legs. The tip brushes your click as he grinds into you like this. Minho’s head is perfectly placed to entangle your fingers in his hair and hold him to your chest as he continues sucking at you. 

It should be overwhelming. It’s all new and so much, so, so much. But it isn’t. You’re home. You’re surrounded. You’re with them. You practically float as you’re pressed between them, as they consume you. 

You’re grateful Minho insists on sleeping with the air conditioning going, now more than ever. Heat surrounds you. Minho’s hot mouth at your breast. Chris’ cock hot between your legs and his warm chest pressed to your back. Heat. 

“Do you want me now?” Chan says, voice a little strained. His cock nudges your entrance, tip prodding and retreating over and over. “You want me to fuck you into Minho, hm?” 

“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes.” 

His teeth graze your skin as he pushes in, the ghost of a bite—followed by a low moan. You cling to Minho as you’re filled, holding him to your chest as his tongue laves at you—devouring.

You squeak as Chris pulls out and fucks back in suddenly, shoving you slightly up the bed. Minho makes a small sound before reattaching himself, determined not to be disturbed. Chris is a little gentler after that, deep and slow rolls of his hips that have you pressing into Minho each time. Eventually he detaches from you and moves up the bed. You expect him to kiss you. Instead he keeps just fair enough away that you can’t lean forward and capture his lips. He watches your face, traces his eyes across your features as Chris fucks you from behind. 

You should feel exposed. But you don’t. You always liked when his eyes were on you. He reaches to lift some hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear as Chris fucks into you. Then he leans in, so close his lips brush yours. Each thrust of Chris’ hips bring you tantalisingly close to joining. Teasing and giving, that was Minho. You wait for him to give. It only takes a minute or so longer. Then he’s pressing right up against you, practically crushing you between their two bodies as he bites into your shoulder. 

You cum with Chris’ fingers on your clit and Minho’s teeth on your neck. 

“Do you want my cum?” Chris groans. “I’ll make you all messy for him. Do you want that? He can fuck it back inside you for me.” 

All you can do is nod, a weak noise accompanying it. Minho’s lips are on yours a second later, wet and messy as you let him take what he needs. He swallows the whimper you release as Chris shoves into you one last time and releases inside you. You’re surrounded by heat, pressed between them tightly. 

Chris grinds into you again for a moment, panting into your neck as you lay full of him. “Love you,” he murmurs finally. 

Minho leaves a peck at the corner of your mouth. “Okay?” he asks. Your fingers massage his scalp a little as you hum in response. 

“Need you though.” 

“Now?” 

“Mm. Now… in the morning… tomorrow night too.” 

He smiles, lopsided and satisfied. “Why?” 

“Love you.” 

He drapes a leg over you as Chris slips from behind you and disappears into the bathroom. “Sorry?” Minho questions with a smirk. “Couldn’t hear you.” 

You tug at his hair. “Don’t be a brat.” 

He rolls you onto your back, pressing you into the mattress. “I do think about you,” he says, voice taking on a softer tone. He switched like that often, letting his walls down without warning. “Not just… not just in the shower. I think about you when I’m at work… when something happens and I’m stressed or—” he pauses, lowering himself onto his elbows. “I think about you a lot.”

“About fucking me?” 

His nose scrunches as he drops his eyes. “Not just that. Just… in lots of ways.”

“I love you too.” 

He drops his face to your neck as Chris reenters the room. You roll Minho back onto his side, allowing Chris to resume his position behind you—how you liked it.

It’s a little slower when Minho presses his body to yours and fills you. Less frenzied than Chris had been. He grinds his cock deep, pressing you into Chris’ chest. You silently curse the years you’d spent in your own bed, all the nights you could have been pressed between them like this. It was only out of ignorance that you’d endured it. If you’d known how it felt to be sandwiched between them, to be full of one’s cum as the other fucks it deep inside—

“How does she feel?” Chris asks as his fingers wrap around your throat, a gentle cradle. 

Minho groans in response, reaching to your hip to give him leverage as he sheathes himself right to the hilt. You forget to breathe as he speaks, “Hot… Hot and dripping, fucking sloppy.” Your breath is forced back into your lungs as he suddenly pulls out and fucks back in. “Listen.” He jostles you into Chris as he speeds up, filling the room with the wet sound of his cock fucking the cum into your already wet cunt. He was shy. He was your shy best friend and he was demonstrating how wet you were to the man pressed to your back. 

You latch onto his neck, forcing him to slow as you press your teeth into his skin. His hips stutter a little before he resumes, a scattered pattern much less controlled than the one he’d started with. You lick at the bite mark when you’re done. “You’re so good,” you whisper. “You’re mine.” 

When he cums it’s with a gasp of your name. You imagine it’s how he sounded in the shower, how he’d sounded all the times he’d thought of you. Had he ever thought of you like that a few hours before you’d crept into his bed to seek comfort. 

Chris reaches over you as Minho catches his breath. “Let me feel,” he whispers before his fingers are on you, playing with your dripping entrance and strumming at your clit until you cum with his hand around your throat.

[writtenapoiogy]

the party & the after party; satoru gojo

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

summary: You don’t know how you ended up in this predicament exactly. At one moment you were at a party looking for your roommate then you were bumping into star basketball player, Satoru Gojo. And then you were in his car heading to a basketball court to learn a lesson or two about the sport. One thing led to another and you ended up at his apartment.

word count: 5k

warnings: nsfw, 18+, smut, MINORS DNI, porn w lil plot, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, protected/unprotected sex (you'll see what i mean), penetrative sex, choking, you match his freak and he can't get enough of you, use of pet names: baby, pretty, and pretty girl, and probably some more i forgor

a/n: i definitely promised to have this posted DAYS AGO sorrryyy life was doing its thing but i had a lot of fun writing this and writing for satoru so definitely be expecting more from me. this is also the most i've ever written for a oneshot so enjoy HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY SATORUUU (ill edit this lattteerrrr)

It had been officially forty five minutes since your friend ran off and disappeared. You didn’t know what she was up to. But you were going to go home feigning tiredness.

You went up stairs and checked every unlocked door, which were few. You tried the last door at the end of the hall and, “OH MY GOD! I’m sorry, fuck, sorry.” Your hand flung to your face, covering your eyes. You were not expecting to see Suguru Geto balls deep in your best friend on top of the bathroom sink.

You slammed the door shut and began to head towards the front door. When you turned the corner to go down the stairs, you came face to face with a mans strong chest. Your hand that was still covering your eyes, for god knows why, flew out to grab onto something so you didn’t fly completely back and hurt yourself. Long calloused fingers wrapped around yours arms, pulling you flush against his chest.

When you finally gathered yourself and look at who was in front of you, you were met with striking blue eyes and stark white hair. Satoru Gojo, star basketball player. “Shit, I’m sorry.” You uttered.

He beamed a smile at you. “It’s okay. Glad I was here to catch you. You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“Have you seen, Suguru?” Satoru peeked his head down the corridor, “haven’t seen him in almost an hour.”

“Don’t open the last door at the end of the hall, unless you wanna get flashed by your best friend.” A shiver runs through your body at the memory of your friend digging her fingertips into Suguru’s buttocks.

Satoru scrunched up his face at the image. “Wait, where are you going. It’s only eleven. The night just started.” He reached for your arm as you began to head down the stairs.

“Uh, parties really aren’t my thing.”

“You run the basketball webpage right?” He was quick to change the subject in a sad attempt at keeping you here a little longer.

You felt your face heat up and your eyes went wide. That’s an anonymous site. And also not your proudest work.

“Based on your reaction, I’m going to assume I’m right.”

“How’d you know..”

“I always see you courtside with a notebook. Didn’t take long for me to put two and two together.” Satoru was very observant and had had his eyes on you since the start of the season. During your freshman year, a senior was running the webpage and after they graduated it was passed on to you. He took notice to the badge you wore during games that stated ‘special media’.

You continue to walk away from him, completely embarrassed. You knew your reports on the games weren’t the best but you didn’t care because it was anonymous. Now the star player was standing in front of you basically saying he has known this whole time.

You ran your hands down your face. “I know, I know. Not the best sports reporter. But to be fair, I’m a creative writing major. I just took this on for the extra credit.”

“It’s not that bad…”

“But still bad. Oh my god. This is so embarrassing.”

“No really you just need like a tiny basketball lesson so your reports are more engaging.” He offered. 

“Yeah. I’ve been to every game this season and it still makes no sense to me.” Maybe because you were a little too focused on the star player and not enough on the game itself.

“Then you’re just in luck because I was just about to head to the court play some ball.. You’re free to join me.” He most definitely was not about to leave. He was actually looking for Suguru to play beer pong but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to hang out with just you.

“I should probably wait for my friend so she’s not worried.” Your friend and Suguru had been messing around for sometime now so you knew she was fine and you also knew that she didn’t care if you just disappeared from the party, she’d find you back home anyway.

“They probably aren’t coming out anytime soon. Just send her text. C’mon, at least I’m not forcing you to stay at this party.”

He had a good point. You would rather be anywhere else than this dumb party. Your friend told you it was sort of a birthday party— this was not what you were expecting. You would also be a fool not to agree to spend some time with Satoru. “Okay, why not.”

There was a silence in the car— not an uncomfortable silence, but still a silence non the less.

“So a creative writing major, huh?” He broke the silence.

“Yeah, I know, not the kind of major that pays the bills but I love it.”

He smiled over at you and your heart flipped as it attempted to break free from your chest.

New topics began to flow between the two of you. You learned new things about him and he learned some about you too. You learned that he didn’t mind the attention from basketball but it was also slightly the reason he doesn’t want to go further with it. He was a business major. 

You pulled up to an outdoor basketball court. And that is when you realized you had left your coat. You had worn a tracksuit to the party— your coat being the only thing that really kept you warm. 

“Oh fuck, I forgot my coat.” You recalled walking past the closet which held your coat hostage currently.

“It’s okay you can wear my hoodie.”

“No, no, that’s fine. I don’t want you getting cold for my sake.”

His long fingers dipped underneath the neckline and he pulled it off, swiftly. “I insist.”

You took the fabric from his hands and you were immediately engulfed with his heavenly scent. So warm and inviting. You pulled it over your head in the small space of his car, obscuring your vision— you missed the way his stare lingered on the exposed skin of your abdomen.

“Alright hotshot show me what you got.”

He smiled at you and then the two of you got out of the car. God you couldn’t get enough of his smile.

Satoru was a bit of a show off on the court, always. But especially right now with just you in attendance. He was swift and quick on his feet. Every time he made a basket he shot you a dazzling smile. “Your turn my lovely poet.” Satoru tossed the ball to you lightly. 

You caught the ball. “I’m not a poet and I can’t play basketball.” You stood and met him in the middle of the court. You were never really good at sports so you stuck to your books— that’s what got you your scholarships.

“And I’m a good teacher. I do coach a youth basketball team when I’m free.”

You sigh, “What’s in it for me? I thought I was just here to observe so I could write better.”

“Well that and to get you moving around so you can warm up. You’ve gotta be freezing over there.” He pleaded with you, “Please it’ll be fun.”

His words made you realize just how cold you actually were. You reluctantly agreed to let him teach you some things. For the sake of being warm and not to get closer to the tall man standing in front of you. Right?

He first showed you how to dribble the ball and then went on to show you how to shoot. Your first attempt, the ball flew over the backboard. Your second, the ball hit the bottom part of the net— nowhere close to the rim. An third attempt, the ball flew towards the hoop with promise before it hit the edge of the rim and bounced back to the two of you.

Satoru threw his hand out and caught the ball before it could hit you. “Okaayy, lets work on your stance a little. Yeah?” He placed the ball back in your hands before he walked behind you and hovered his hands over your hips, “May I?”

You turned your head towards him when you heard the closeness of his voice. Satoru was extremely close to you. You would be lying if you said you didn’t have a little crush on him. You just didn’t want to admit cause who didn’t have a crush on Satoru Gojo. 

He was attractive, obviously. You weren’t blind— you just hadn’t seen him up close and personal. He was absolutely the most handsome person you had ever laid your eyes on. He could have anyone he wanted. There was no way he’d pick you.

His bright blue eyes had a sparkle to them. You felt yourself getting lost in them before your eyes trailed down to his lips. His soft pink lips. Oh, how you would love to feel them against your own.

As he said your name he couldn’t help but smile when he saw where your eyes had lingered to. He wanted to lean in. He wanted to close that gap between the two of you.

“Um, yeah. Yeah that’s fine.”

He placed his hands on your hips and your mind went completely blank. It’s as if his fingers were ablaze and you could feel the burn through the clothes against your skin.

After he helped you fix your stance he explained to you how simple it would be from there. His hands went from your hips up to your arms and you had to take a deep breath to center yourself. “Alright now just toss it.” His lips were right next to your ear. “C’mon you got this.”

You almost melted right then and there. However, you still stood strong and you threw the ball and to your surprise it actually went in.

You hollered and hopped a couple of times before turning around and wrapping your arms around Satoru. He was so warm and he smelled so good. You could really get lost in his arms. You two stood like that for a few minutes before your brain came back to you and you pulled away, clearing your throat.

He smiled down at you, “I told you you could do it.” 

After he retrieved the ball he went in for a dunk and you couldn’t help but let your eyes trail down to his exposed lower stomach. Your eyes caught white hair that trailed down into his sweats.

You scoff, “Show off.”

“What you wanna try to dunk? I can go get you a step stool if you want.”

Oh he thought he was so funny. “Jackass.”

He let out a boisterous laugh. “Hey, c’mon, I was just messing around. Why don’t you try to take the ball from me. I’ll go easy on you.”

He explained to you that this was to make sure that the person you’re guarding cannot pass the ball to their teammate or shoot the ball and score a point. 

Every time your hand got close to the ball it was immediately out of your reach yet again. “Satoru, you said you’d go easy on me.” You frowned.

“This is me going easy.”

Oh.

You continue to try and take the ball from him this time he goes for a score and shoots the ball, causing you to trip on your feet and ram face first into his chest. You both come crashing down to the ground. Just before crushing you underneath him, he caught himself with one of his forearms on the ground and his other hand right next to your head— caging you beneath him.

His breath was hitting your face and you could smell the faint sent of alcohol. “Did you drink tonight? C-cause you drove.”

“I just had one beer. And you got here safe didn’t you?”

“Yeah…” You let out a barely there whisper. You took in all of his features. His fluffy eyelashes. You fingers twitched to touch his cheek.

You hadn’t realized how deeply you were staring at his lips till your eyes moved to meet his and he was unashamedly staring at your slightly agape mouth. 

Then in the distance a car alarm went off and the two of you scrambled away from each other. Breaking the tension in the air.

Satoru quicky busied himself with the basketball and began moving around the court again. Your eyes were glued to him, much like when you attended one of his games. There were just a few things you were noticing. Things you tried so hard to ignore before. 

You noticed how his hand easily gripped the ball. His hands were large. And then when he spun the ball on his finger you thought you were done for. Your mind having inappropriate thoughts about the white haired man in front of you.

What his long fingers would feel like wrapped around your neck…. Or how they would feel inside of you..

“Hellloo? Earth to Y/N.” Satoru was now standing directly in front of you. He laughed at the shock on your face. “I thought I lost you for a second there.”

“Sorry. Uh, what time is it. It feels like its getting late.”

He looked down at his arm to check the time on his watch. “It’s just a little past midnight.”

“I should probably go home.”

“Why?”

“I-,” You started.

“Cause it’s Saturday night so I know you don’t have class.” Satoru really didn’t want you to leave. He was enjoying being around you and he didn’t want the night to end. “Please. Stay. Have some fun with me.”

You laugh. “It’s freezing.”

“I didn’t say we had to stay at the court.” Fuck it. He was gonna figure out how to spend the rest of the night with you. “Would you wanna go back to my place?”

“And do what?” Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of being alone with him at his apartment.

“Whatever you want.” And he did truly mean whatever you wanted. Because he wanted you and he would be through the roof if you wanted him too. 

He had this look in his eye and how could you refuse him. “Okay.”

You made your way back to Satoru’s car and you felt his hand cover yours on the door handle, “Let me.”

You turned to look at him and yet again he was extremely close to you. You were starting to think this man didn’t understand the definition of personal space but you didn’t mind it. Not when it was him.

But now you thought of this closeness as dangerous. You had been stopping yourself from kissing his soft and tempting lips all night. You knew if he got close to you again you wouldn’t be able to hold back.

You took in your surroundings and he had you caged in against his car. “Satoru?”

“Yea..”

Fuck it.

You brought your hands up to his head and tangled your fingers in his pillow soft hair and brought him down to close the gap between you two. You moaned against his lips and felt your body mold against his. He tasted so sweet and all you wanted to do was indulge in him.

Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you completely against him. All he could think was yes yes yeswhen you kissed him. He parted his lips and nipped at your bottom lip.

Your fingers tugged his locks when you felt his teeth against your lip. He moaned into your mouth and your brain turned to mush. You felt a familiar knot begin to form in your gut.

His hands that were wrapped around you went down to your ass and he ground you against his hips— making you feel how hard he was.

Satoru reluctantly pulled away from you because he knew that if the two of you stayed where you were he might’ve taken you right there against his car.

“Fuck, get in. Now. Please.” He said, desperately.

You placed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth and nodded as you got in the car when he opened the door.

When he got in the car he immediately pulled out his cell and sent a text to Suguru telling him not to come back to the apartment tonight because he had company.

On the short drive to his place his hand stayed on your upper thigh. He drew enticing circles along your inner thigh which had you spreading your legs for him. You wished you had opted for a skirt tonight and not a sweatsuit.

He was on you as soon as you guys walked in. He was standing behind you with his arms running up your abdomen underneath your layers of clothing. He walked you towards his bedroom with his mouth attached to your neck.

“Satoru..” You whined at the sensation of his touch. He was driving you insane in the best way possible.

Satoru hummed, “I love the way you say my name.” He stripped you of his hoodie that you still had on. He started to undress you slowly. When he pushed your pants down, he made sure to kiss your legs all the way down till the fabric pooled at your feet. Soon you were standing in nothing but your matching lace set. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

You felt yourself getting shy underneath his gaze. You needed to level the playing field. You balled your hand in his shirt and pulled him closer to you. You turned the two of you so that his back was to the bed.

You started to push his shirt up his chest and he made quick work of removing the item of clothing. You let yourself take in his sculptured body. He looked like a greek statue. Carved straight from marble.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 

Your eyes shot up from his v-line and right to his lust filled eyes. “Shut up.” You shoved him onto the bed but he was quicker than you thought. Satoru had pulled you on top of him as he fell back. For nearly the third time this night.

He chuckled into the space between you two, “We have to stop meeting like this.” He smirked at you before he flipped the both of you over so that he was looming over you. He captured your lips in his again. It was searing compared to the last one. His wet warm tongue slipped into your mouth and you welcomed him with a moan.

With you in his bed and him on top of you, his smell was all around you. It made you wanna melt into his sheets and never leave. It was undoubtedly intoxicating. You brought your hands to his beautiful soft hair again and pulled him harder against you.

His hands were all over you. He moved his head down and laid kisses to your jaw then trailed down to your neck— his fingers occupied with unhooking your bra. When he freed your breasts he immediately brought his mouth down to one of the hardened buds.

Your back arched at the sensation. “Oh, fuck.”

Satoru lapped at your sensitive nub while his unoccupied hand tweaked the other. You felt your underwear dampen when his teeth scrapped against you. He let off of it with a pop and then dragged his tongue down you. He stopped at the top of your panties and nipped at the skin there.

It crossed your mind what he was about to do. “Oh. Satoru, you don’t have to.” Being eaten out wasn’t really one of your favorite things in bed.

He frowned, “You don’t want me to.” Satoru desperately wanted to taste you. He wanted to leave you trembling and gushing on his tongue.

“It just doesn’t really… do much for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never really, erm, finished from it…” You fiddled with your fingers, purposely not looking him in his bright blue eyes.

“Oh, baby, that’s a shame but I gotta make sure you’re ready. I’m about to make you come so hard you forget your own name.”

Your heart swelled at the pet name before you audibly gulped. He smirked devilishly up at you before he wrapped his hands around your calves and pulled you down to the edge of his bed.

Satoru got on his knees in front of his bed, where your legs now dangled. He slowly pulled your panties down your legs and he let out a low groan when a string of wetness connected you to the fabric. “You’re so wet for me, hmm. I can’t wait to taste you.” He said in a pleased hum.

He pressed a soft kiss to your clit. You felt that knot tighten just a tad but enough for you to know that you had never had this done to you properly. He moved his head away from your wet heat and placed kisses on your inner thighs. Satorugripped under your knees and pushed your legs up.

He saw your hands gripping his sheets in anticipation. “Put your hands in my hair. Pull as much as you want, I like it.”

Oh?

You pushed his hair off of his forehead and ran your fingers through the strands before tugging lightly to test the waters. You were pleased to hear a low whine leave his lips. 

He licked from your entrance up to your clit before he started to lap at your clit like he was making out with it. You lost your mind. You couldn’t control the noises that left your lips.

“Ah..” You jutted you hips up against his face, involuntarily.

Satoru closed his mouth on your clit and started to suck just as he sunk his long middle finger inside of you. He began to pump into you at a slow pace.

“Shit.” You panted and tightened your grip in his hair making him moan against your sensitive nub. The pleasures he was giving you was a thousand times better than what you did by yourself. He was reaching places inside of you that you didn’t even know existed. Places your fingers could never dream of reaching.

He stopped suckling your clit and laid his tongue flat when you started to grind down on his finger. You were getting close to coming so so close. He added another digit to the finger that was already inside of you.

Your back arched off the bed and you pulled his hair harder than you had all night when those two fingers curved and hit the sweet soft spot deep inside of you. You were left babbling and mumbling. All he could hear was his name and a bunch of pleas and curses.

Satoru wrapped his lips around your swollen nub again as he continued to assault your g-spot. Your orgasm hit you in a flash of blacks and reds. A loud moan left your lips and your hands went lax in his hair.

He removed his mouth from you and let out a deep chuckle. His fingers continued to pump in you, letting you ride out your high. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He looked down as he removed his fingers from you, your juices glistening his chin and his fingers. He brought his fingers to his mouth and cleaned them off, “and just as sweet as I thought.”

Your mind was completely blank from your earth shattering orgasm. You just stared at him dopey.

“Are you sure you wanna do this? We can stop now.” Satoru asked when he came up to your face after you came down from your orgasm. And you truly couldn’t believe he would ask you a question like that mere inches away from your face with your juices dripping down his chin.

You aggressively nodded your head. You needed him. More than anything.

“C’mon use your words, pretty.” He hummed and it sent you reeling. His voice sounded so sultry and melodic. “Haven’t even got to fuck you dumb yet.”

“Yes, please. M’sure. I need you.”

“Yeah? I need you too.” He moved away from you and you immediately sat up to see where he was going. You saw him going to his nightstand and grab a condom. That’s when you remember what he said before he ate you out. 

I gotta make sure you’re ready.

And that’s when your eyes fell down to the huge bulge in his sweats.

Satoru watched your eyes widen when he pulled his sweats and boxers off in one go. “It’s okay, you can take it. I got you.” He met you back at the edge of the bed. He didn’t even bother climbing in the bed with you. He was gonna fuck you off the edge of his bed. “I’ll go easy on you”

You bit your lip and watched him put the condom on and then line his thick tip with your sopping wet hole. As he began to sink into you inch by hefty inch. He made you feel so entirely full and he wasn’t even all the way in yet. You spread your legs wider for him. You wanted every inch of him inside of you.

“Heh-, See I told you you could take it.” His words sounded eerily similar to his ones earlier when you made a basket. He pushed all the way in, buried to the hilt. “Shit. You’re so tight.” 

Satoru almost pulled all the way back out which had you reaching your hands for him. You were feeling emptier by the second with every inch that he pulled away from you. You were feeling needy and you didn’t even care how embarrassing it may have looked.

He slammed his hips back in, all the way in, he left you gasping for air. He started to find his pace and began to fuck you so good. He had his headboard hitting the wall repeatedly with his thrusts.

“You feel so good. Fuck.” He had his hands on your waist—his grip tight—as he continued to plow into your wet cunt. His eyes traced all over your pleasure blown face. Half lidded eyes staring up at him as you tried to maintain eye contact. Your mouth agape in a small ‘o’.

“You’re so big.” The sounds that left your mouth were almost inhumane. You wanted him closer. You needed him closer. You needed him raw. Every time you felt your climax building you just thought of how you’d be coming on a piece of latex and not his pretty dick.

“Can you take it off.” You whined. “Please. I wanna feel you, ‘toru.” 

“W-what?” He grunted in response, you having caught him off guard. “Take what off, baby?” He didn’t stop his thrusts and brought his hands up to your breasts to tweak your nipples.

“T-the condom. Please take it off.” You mewled when the head of his cock came into contact with you cervix. You whined when he stalled at your words. He rolled his hips, his dick pressing deliciously against your cervix.

Who was he to deny you? Fuck, who was he to deny himself. “Fuck. Yes.” Satoru slowly pulled out of you. He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and slowly pulled the condom off, wincing at the tightness. He tossed the condom into a little trashcan before he lined himself back up with your entrance. 

You, getting impatient, wrapped your ankles around his ass and pulled him forward. His cock slid into you with ease. Satoru let out a deep moan when he slipped in bare. You feel so much better to him this way. Nothing dulling the feeling of your wet pussy to him. He was making more noise than he had been all night.

The noises leaving Satoru’s lips made your walls flutter around him. You were so close. You just were missing something. He brought his hand up to your throat and before he wrapped it around your neck he asked, “Is this okay.” You nodded fervently, answering his question.

You were gonna be the end of him, he thought. You were so fucking perfect. The way your eyes rolled into the back of your head when he closed his long fingers around your throat. “That feel good, pretty girl?”

You hummed in response. Your hands reached up and grabbed his arm. You let out a pathetic whimper when he tightened his grip. You felt that knot in your stomach getting ready to snap

“I said you’d forget your name not mine, baby. Say it.” He said as he hiked one of your legs up with his free hand so that he was hitting your g-spot. And he didn’t let up once he found it.

“Oh fuck.. Satoru!” You sobbed out— your words sounded harsh from the pressure on your throat. All you hear were the wet squelching sounds of him fucking into you raw. “Fuck, fuck. Baby, baby… M’gonna come.”

“Yeah?” He let out a low moan. “You want me to pull out?” He felt his balls tighten when your soaked walls clenched around him, pulling him in deeper.

“N-no.” That was definitely the complete opposite of what you wanted. You wanted him to come inside of you and not waste a drop.

“No?”

You shook your head. “Mmm. I want it inside. Please, s’toru, please. I need it.” You fucked him back as best as you could. “Come with me. I want.”

Satoru let go of your throat and leaned forward, hitting that spot even deeper.“Fuck, yeah. I got you, baby.” He continued to roll his hips into yours. You were a moaning and whimpering mess below him. His next three thrusts were hard and rough and just enough to make the both of you come with a loud shout from him and a moan from you.

The two of you were laying there panting with your mouths over the others.

“Fuck.” You finally broke the silence. “That was good.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Happy birthday to me huh?”

“What?! It’s your birthday?”

“Well, whose party did you think that was?”

You roll your eyes, “Happy birthday, Satoru.” He smiled down at you and placed a soft kiss to your lips. You finally came to your senses and realized he was still in you… and he was still very hard.

This was gonna be a long night.

my requests for satoru are open btw! click here

[k1ngpin42]

POV: 𝘼𝙗𝙗𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙙𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧r- (mini fic)

Warnings: Dating, public 18+, dominant Abby, fingering

You, Abby, Mel, Manny and Whitney are sitting at a table in the WLF base. You and Abby aren’t allowed to be paired together on patrols anymore after Mel snitched about the time she caught you two fucking while on duty. To be fair, though, the door of the room you two were in had been locked from the outside, it wasn’t your fault Mel didn’t knock. 

Anyway, not being able to see her throughout the day was fucking with you. Images of what you two would do the night and morning before you’d go on patrol, things you two used to do at any available moment on away missions. Against the wall when the other soldiers turned their back, on the floor, against an old car,  on the table where you and the others would plan routes around seraphite camps, one time you even fucked while in a room full of clickers. (It was the most terrifying orgasm you had ever experienced if you’re being honest with yourself. Still amazing though.)

She sits down and the tension is immediate, you’d let her take you right here and now if she asked.

“Hey love, how were your assignments today?” She asks. Fuck. You didn’t know what was up with you today cause you were fucking wet at the site of her.

“What? Oh, yeah, it was alright…” You say, eyes scanning her body. You hear the others talk indistinctly and your gaze immediately drops to her hands.

“Did you really have to invite the game nerd?” You hear Mel whisper. You roll your eyes.

“Whitney’s my friend, Mel, don’t be a dick.” You tell her bluntly, and Whitney looks up at this. Mel looks at her with a guilty expression.

“Whitney I didn’t mean….”

“Oh it’s okay Mel. I can just sit by myself like I usually do.”

“Nonsense, you’re with us.” Manny reassures.

Once this drama clears up, Abby and Mel start telling the others stories about their mission today. Various jokes and exaggerations. None of this was relevant to you, though, cause for the love of everything holy, you couldn’t focus.

You watched as she enhanced her story with hand movements, her laugh was a melody in your ears, her voice a chorus. The veins on her hands were still prominent, she must have had to beat up some form of enemy, usually runners. Or maybe she had been lifting something heavy.

A smile smile pressed your lips at the thought of that. The thought of her big arms straining, she would groan slightly before the metal crate behind a door would move and she’d let out another satisfied sigh. Fuck. Those arms, those hands, you needed them inside you, on you, you didn’t care which. 

“He grabs the EMPTY gun and points it at the woman. She’s got a fuckin club or something and he says….well, something in Spanish.” Abby explains to the group who have been intently listening, making you feel slightly bad for zoning out.

“ Estás acabado, cabron. You are finished, asshole.” 

“Haha…nice.” Abby replies, taking a bite of her food. She looks over at you, who is still too focused on the way the vein on her right hand is more prominent than on her left. When she notices this, she smirks. That same cocky fucking smirk when she knows that, once again, she’s read you like a book.

“Hey so, that new training manual you read, what was it again?” She asks you as she slips a hand on your thigh. You’re wearing baggy blue jeans and even with them on you feel heat trickle down your spine.

“Oh the one about long guns? Well…the main premise is about rounds.” She moves her hand so it’s cupping your cunt through the fabric. 

“I-“ You clear your throat. “Each gun has a unique gear that allows the rounds to move more fl-“ Abby cautiously unzips the jeans. “Fluidly.” You explain. She starts teasing your pussy with her index fingers and painting your clit with slick.

“Have you tested it out on a gun? The upgrade?” Abby asks, watching you with an amused expression as she increases the pace.

“Wh-at…oh um, yeah.” You stumble over your words.

“Ah well you can come improve my weapon, do you know how many times this gun has been stepped on? I’m surprised I can put new rounds in at all.” Manny laughs. Your eyelids flutter as she puts her two middle fingers inside you and circles your clit with her thumb. She does all this with her left hand, not even taking her eyes off of the group, she doesn’t have to. 

How does this not make her uncomfortable? How does the fact that our whole friend group will watch you cum work for her in any way?

“Only if you gi-mm~” You stifle your moan with your hand.

“You okay?” Mel asks you. You nod.

“Just tired, I was gonna say, only if you give me a….ah~ a good gun too since he always hogs them all.”

“I do not.” He laughs. 

Fuck, Abby’s hands rubbing you feels fucking insatiable but you need to be alone with her, you can’t stand how embarrassing this feels. You want her to fuck you till you can’t breathe, not tease you in front of people you have to interact with on the regular.

“I might go to bed early.” You say, attempting to push Abbys hands away. She grabs your arm tightly and gives you a warning look.

“Aw don’t be silly, we’ll go when you’re finished.” She pauses. “…Eating.” Abby adds, increasing her pace as well as the pressure on your clit. Fuck, you could scream at how good it feels. You want to scream. 

“Who were you with today baby?” Abby asks. Fuck you could kick her right now. She’s clearly doing this on purpose to hear you make a fool of yourself in front of her your friends. It won’t work, you try to convince yourself.

“Um, I don’t know, it was me, two guys and a girl. The girl was dating one of the guys so me and the other guy did most of the patrolling while they probably, I don’t even know, did each other or something.” You explain, enjoying the feeling of her thick, warm fingers. Fuuuuuuck.

Mel looked guilty again. She always did, maybe this is just her resting face?

“I’m sorry that you and Abby can’t go on patrols anymore.” Mel utters, quietly. You roll your eyes but before you can even think to be annoyed at her, Abby pushes just the right place and you let out a gush of satisfied air.

“Agh~ all good.” You say, keeping your composure fairly well. Abby rewards this by easing up slightly and you instinctively buck your hips forward. 

“Do you prefer hot places or cold?” Abby asked, and at this point you’re forcing your eyes open. 

“What?” You ask, bitterly. Fuck you’re painfully close, you’re so gonna hit her when this is over. 

“Abby…” You whisper to her, her smirk widens, cocky prick.

“Did you say something baby?” You sigh and poke at some of the food on your plate. 

“Hot. I don’t like the cold or the rain, snow’s the only…f….um, exception.” You breathe out. Abby can tell by the look on your face that you’re cumming and she tilts her head, admiring you.

“I prefer the heat too. It’s always hot in Mexico.” Manny says, his voice just a murmer as you see colours through your eyelids. Holy fuck, you’d give anything to let out a loud moan right now. 

“I’m actually pretty tired too, I think we’re gonna turn in early.” Abby explains to the others. Mel nods and Manny looks mildly disappointed, but doesn’t say anything. 

“Have a good night.” Whitney says with a warm smile. You nod and Abby helps pull you up. You bite back a wince at how sensitive it feels to have your legs together and you hurry with Abby out of the hall.

“Abigail fucking Anderson.” You warn, simply. She smiles, kissing you playfully on the cheek.

“Yeah?” She asks. You punch her arm lightly. 

“Do you like making a fool of me? All our friends saw-“

“Did you like it?” She asks, that seductive and almost arrogant smirk still evident on her pretty fucking face. You roll your eyes. She kisses your neck and leans in to your ear.

“I bet you were thinking about it. My hands, my fingers, I was just giving you what you want.” 

“Yeah but…I mean at dinner? That’s just torture.” 

“Aw.” She says with fake sympathy. “Want me to make it up to you?”

°..·°¯°·._.· 🎀 >.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°🎀 >-.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯

[thatlittlered]

florida!!! | aaron hotchner

warning(s): this will be a slow burn, but have faith

GIF by @katebeckets

author's note: A Hotch fic in 2024? It's more likely than you think. Part two coming tomorrow. Find me @MadeofLilies in Ao3!

-.-.-

It’s a two-hour flight from Quantico to Tampa, but the team’s already been up the day before for this case. There’s very little left in all of you to give right now so you’re mostly going through the files again or, more likely, staring blankly at the papers – sleeping with your eyes open. Rossi succumbs to the sweet call of rest first and he will most certainly be mocked for it tomorrow.

Reid is sat behind you and you can feel his frequent jolts. He’s coming in and out of sleep, always fighting it. Hotch is across from you and as always, an unwavering force. He is reading files and keeping notes without a single complaint. Not a single sign of discomfort or an urge to slow down.

You’d think he was a statue, but his humanity prevails through the peaks of facial hair just now growing in, the skin that sinks under his eyes and the softness of his breathing.

You’re no longer too aware of your surroundings, but from the corner of your eye, you see him squirm uncomfortably and glance at you before returning to his notes.

Then-

“You smell very good.”

“Oh, uh, it’s my body lotion, I think. Violet.”

He nods as if taking in the information that he can’t really use.

What exactly was the purpose of that statement? The thought of a scent emitting from the warmth of your body does something to him.

“I’m sorry, that was probably a weird thing to say.”

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t.” He nods again and silence ensues. “Maybe a little? I also feel weird complimenting people on their perfumes, it makes me feel like Buffalo Bill. It rubs the lotion on its skin.”

He laughs and his head drops downward. Full-hearted laughs from Hotch are a rare phenomenon and eliciting one is always a thrilling accomplishment.

“It’s a nice scent, let’s just leave it at that.”

“Let’s.”

-.-.-

Six hours of sleep in the hotel go by in a moment and do little to alleviate the headache that’s been building up. Tylenol it is.

Emily offers you a sympathetic smile when you meet her at the car and pats your back lovingly. You know she is just as tired.

“One of these days they’re going to stop working for me and then I’m really screwed.”

“You’re like a pretty house plant. You thrive only under very specific conditions.”

“That’s right. I only need a full eight hours of sleep, seventy-five-to-eighty-degree weather and a full stomach to not feel sick, I’m honestly very low maintenance.”

She laughs and hands you a coffee.

“I know, honey. I vow to maintain you to the best of my abilities.”

Hotch is listening from inside the car and he’s almost jealous at the comfortable banter. Chat always feels forced to him in one way or another, especially with you. It’s complicated.

You seat behind him and he looks at you through the rear mirror.

“Good morning, Hotch.”

Never boss. Never Agent. You called him Aaron once a very long time ago and he’s clung to it. He can hear it now if he tries.

He makes an effort to be warm to you and there’s a hint of a polite smile.

“Good morning.”

Emily and Spencer join you and after a quick check-in with the rest of the team in the other car, you’re ready to go.

Tampa is hot. And swampy. It was comfortable enough in the beginning when the sun was only coming out but you can’t escape its angry glare anywhere now. Your clothes are starting to cling to you and the Tylenol hasn’t worked.

Aaron notices your discomfort when you sneak away from the rest of the team and head back to the car for some shade. It’s been a long couple of hours driving around and looking at the perp’s dump sites.

“Are you okay?”

You look up and see him lean against the open car door. Brows furrowed, eyes on you. You’re always a little uncomfortable under his gaze.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just needed a break.”

He��s not too convinced. “Is it the headache?”

“Yeah… I left my sunglasses back at the hotel and that doesn’t help much either.” You take a sip of water just in case it helps. “Who even has the energy to go around and murder people in Florida? I can barely move my arms up and down without wanting to die.”

He laughs again. You’re really getting good at this.

“That’s some fine profiling there, agent. It makes sense to assume the perp is a local.”

You squint your eyes to look at him through all the glaring sunlight and he’s smirking.

“Was that a joke from THE Agent Hotchner? Be still my beating heart.”

You smile at each other for just a second before the sun once again becomes unbearable. Your eyes close on instinct.

“Just give me a second and I’ll be back on my feet.”

“Of course, take your time.”

Next thing you know, you feel a gentle touch at the sides of your face, something being placed on the bridge of your nose. When you open your eyes again, Hotch is covered by a thin veil of black that gives you immense relief.

“Oh, Hotch, it’s not necessary.”

“It’s alright, you need them more. Keep them.”

“Thank you so much.”

He nods, now back to his regular self and walks away when he sees you’re looking better.

You follow close behind him and watch as he joins the group to comment on something Spencer said. Emily leans discreetly toward you, “Are those Hotch’s sunglasses?”

-.-.-

The air-conditioned hotel room is a lovely change of scenery by the end of it all. This time you can really take it all in, you’re not in a rush to go anywhere. A hot shower, clean linen and the scent of pine room spray in the air.

Pine might be an odd choice for a Floridian beach resort, but alright.

You’re drying your hair when someone knocks on your door, which surprises you. The usual routine for everyone in the team is a shower to wash out the filth that you witness and passing out in the queen-sized beds. You assumed they were doing the latter.

“Hi.”

Aaron Hotchner in a t-shirt is definitely something. Seeing him like this, you almost feel like you’re violating him even though he’s the one knocking on your hotel door at half past two in the morning.

“Hi, is there something wrong?”

His brows furrow. He looks anxious.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No, I just got out of the shower, was about to dry my hair and go to bed.” His gaze falls on the water stains forming on your shirt, your hair loose. It looks so soft. “Did you need something?”

“Uh, sort of. The Wi-Fi in my room isn’t working and I have to send in my report before we fly back tomorrow. I tried the reception but they can’t really do anything about it right now.”

“Oh! Of course, you can work from here if you want.”

“Are you sure it wouldn’t be a bother-”

“Hotch, get in here, of course it wouldn’t be a bother. You’re quite literally the most discreet the person in the world.”

He smiles at the praise. It’s a boyish sort of joy to know that you think so highly of him.

“Let me just grab my laptop.”

You watch as he briefly disappears in his room right across from yours and reappears with his laptop and a case file in hand. He stands awkwardly before you, waiting for you to invite him in again and you laugh at his insane need to always be so careful with his movements.

You step back and he understands, joining you inside the room.

“Give me a second to clear my things off the bed and you can get to work, okay?”

“I can just take the chair, it’s no big deal.”

“That’s actually even harder for me right now because all my clothes are on that chair. You can absolutely sit on the bed as long it’s not with outside clothes, because yuck.”

You both laugh and you think it’s because of your hyperbole but he’s laughing at the way your nose scrunches when you say it.

“I never wear my outside clothes to bed.”

“Of course you don’t.”

You make space for him in your bed that smells like laundry softener and you from the night before. It’s your body lotion. Violet.

He can’t help but think it’s a nice place to be.

“I’m just going to blow-dry my hair in the bathroom, hopefully that won’t make too much noise at this hour. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Sure.”

You don’t think you’ve ever made this much eye contact with Hotch in a single day but tonight, he’s insistent on looking right in your eyes with every word he speaks. It’s odd, but not uncomfortable. You could certainly get used to it.

You only get a solid minute and a half of blow drying before you decide you can’t be certain that the walls prevent the sound from reaching other rooms. It’s a cruel thing to do at this hour, even though the only other person you know on this floor is your boss that’s currently sitting on your bed like a teenager doing homework.

“I’m done.”

He looks at you star-struck, something about the familiarity of this moment really getting to him. The two of you have never been like this before and he’s always felt a certain amount of regret over not being as close with you as the other members of the team have managed. That’s the curse of being a stone, he supposes. People will eventually treat you like one.

“I won’t take long; I just need to finish up the rest and send it.”

“Don’t worry, you can stay as much as you need.”

He glances at the bottle of melatonin on the nightstand.

“How come you’re not already dozing off?”

“I just wanted to relax a little before I did. Felt disgusting after today.”

He hums. Was it the heat? Was it the humidity? Was it the empty look inside the perp’s eyes when he was finally caught? Like there was no humanity there, nothing to see but cruelty. He won’t ask.

“Do you have trouble falling asleep?”

You also glance at the bottle, then at him. “Are you profiling me, Agent Hotchner?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be inquisitive. I just thought you could fall asleep everywhere. Several long hours in the jet have proved so, at least.”

His attempt to lighten up the mood works and he’s thankful.

“I can, I just have trouble staying asleep once I do. Especially with all the changes in time zone; it really messes with me.”

He smiles at you so warmly. This is Aaron. Not Agent Hotchner, not even Hotch, just Aaron sitting on your hotel bed with his knee bumping into yours. “Like a pretty house plant.”

You smile back and try not to think too hard about the repercussions of him calling you pretty, even though he’s technically repeating another person’s words.

“Do you have trouble falling asleep?”

“I do sometimes… it can be tough.”

Aaron’s brown eyes are so soft under the dimmed lights.

“It really can be.”

The spell of eye contact breaks before it becomes too intense.

“Do you mind if I also sit here until you finish?”

His hand twitches at his side, begging to touch; to reassure you.

“Of course not. It’s your bed.”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You couldn’t.”

You watch some TV while he works away, often stealing glances at the way his hands move over the keyboard. They’re very nice to look at; all veins and rough skin. They suddenly stop and shut the laptop.

“I’m finished, so I can finally leave you to your rest. I’m really sorry for the intrusion.”

You sit up from your cozy spot, alarmed at the thought of his departure when you’re finally getting used to his presence here.

“I told you, there was no intrusion. I’m glad I was able to help.”

He smiles at you again, this time a little more reserved. It’s as if the bubble of intimacy has burst and now it’s all awkward again.

“I should leave so you can get some sleep.”

“Yeah.” You watch as he gets up and moves toward the door, “Although…”

The suggestion of something else following stops in him in his tracks.

“I don’t think I’m in the mood to sleep right now and I’d really just like some coffee.”

He moves again, turning to face you completely. Eye contact, again.

“I could actually go for some coffee. Breakfast doesn’t start being served for a few more hours though.”

You sigh, maybe it’s the sleep deprivation but it feels like neither of you wants to let go.

“Maybe we could head out? See if there’s any place open in the neighborhood?”

You watch as he glances at the door, then back at you. “Yeah. Yes, let’s do that.”

“Meet you in the hallway in five?”

“I’ll be there.”

-.-.-

The hotel is fairly close to the airport and you guess East Tampa is not the place to be for nightlife. The streets are empty save for the occasional passing car.

“Should we take the car?”

“We could do that, or…”

“Or?”

“We could explore the East Tampa wilderness by foot. I hear they recently got rid of the alligators.”

He laughs, “Will you ever tire of the Florida jokes?”

“Not ever, no.”

“Good, I like hearing them.”

East Tampa is more walkable than you expected.

“See, they even have tiny slivers of sidewalk! We might as well be in Paris.”

“Magical.” he hums, walking slightly behind you so you don’t bump into each other.

God forbid you cross that boundary while wandering around a foreign city with your coworker, alone, when it’s almost four am and you’re both wearing pajamas outside. God forbid.

You can feel him leading you through the streets despite being right behind you and neither of you really knowing where you’re heading. He guides you through his sturdy footsteps, the quiet breathing that finds and leaves your ear again with every step.

“We can try turning left here.”

You would trust him anywhere.

The moment you make the turn and make room for him beside you, a car practically zooms by. It makes you dizzy when he holds on to you immediately, pulling you toward him until you’re sure you’ve stepped all over his shoes. He looks so angry when you turn to him and for a moment, you think it might be at you.

“Going 50 in a 25? That guy’s going to get someone killed.”

“Yeah, I underestimated the traffic.”

“Are you okay?

“Sure, I am, it was just fast.”

“Take the sidewalk, I’ll walk on this side, alright?”

You don’t argue with him, there is no point.

“Thank you.”

At the end of the street, you can make out the joyous neon sign of a 7-Eleven.

“Ah! We’ve reached civilization!”

“Can you really call 7-Eleven that?”

“Barely.”

-.-.-

The coffee is so deliciously warm and even though the weather doesn’t call for it, it brings you comfort.

An employee is eyeing you suspiciously from the window while you seat on the pavement outside and you don’t know why. Your clothes are sleepwear, sure, but you’ve seen at least five people in the city strut around in nothing but jean shorts and flip-flops so is there really room for judgement here?

 Aaron discreetly scoots closer to you as if to be heard better but the street’s already incredibly quiet.

“This was a great idea, actually.”

You smile at him and keep sipping your coffee.

“We can go back to the hotel now if you want.”

“Are you tired?”

“No,” you see him tilt his head in doubt and you think the bags under your eyes might have reached your chin by now, “I mean, my body is, but my mind is right here with you.”

He smiles back at you in such a sweet way, it reaches his eyes.

“I don’t want to then.”

If you do, you have to go back to separate rooms and miss this opportunity for one perfect sunrise.

You move closer to him and he thinks you might tell him a secret, “Should we keep walking?”

“Walk toward where?”

Your shoulders relax.

“Do you have your map with you? We can walk until we reach the beach.”

His smile doesn’t falter a bit, “I think the nearest beach is like, an hour from here on foot.”

“That’s a lot. We can walk until we don’t feel like walking anymore then.”

“Another good idea.”

“I know you live in constant admiration of me but all this praise might just get to my head.”

He gets up first and puts out his hand for you to grab, “Oh, has it not already?”

When you take him up on his offer, his grasp is incredibly strong, yet tender. He pulls you up like it’s nothing but he’s careful not to hurt you in the process.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, drinks in the casual banter like the two of you might never speak again.

Your other hand is holding your coffee and you instinctively touch your forehead to his shoulder in protest for just a second, “I am a very down-to-earth person.”

The bare skin under his sleeve grows warm where you touched it.

“The most.”

He, still, doesn’t let go of your hand.

“How cruel of you to mock me when I’m dressed like this and haven’t slept.”

He laughs.

“I’m sure you mock me all the time with the team when I’m not listening.”

His tone hasn’t changed to indicate if he’s serious or not, but you feel very uncomfortable at the thought of him assuming that you and the squad might speak ill of him.

“I would never mock you, Hotch. I know we all poke fun at each other, but I admire you. Deeply.”

“I admire you too. Deeply.”

You walk side by side and your hand rests loosely clasped in his. He tells himself it’s to keep you safe and you let him guide you everywhere; anywhere. Nothing but trust there.

After a while, he stops and looks at you.

“I do really want to go to the beach.”

You laugh because the notion of Aaron Hotchner really wanting to do something seems so alien.

So far, you’ve assumed he’s just going along for the ride.

“I guess we could look for a cab?”

-.-.-

It’s almost dawn and there is no one here you can see. Just soft sand that will most definitely get everywhere inside your clothes and the sound of waves crashing softly when they reach the shore.

You’re looking at them, he’s looking at you.

The two of you sit closer now than ever before.

“It’s going to officially be morning soon.”

He instinctively turns to his wrist but his watch is back at the hotel discarded somewhere, so you reach for your phone and show him the time. It almost ruins the illusion of no time existing around you, but he won’t allow it. He will bend it to his will as he does with all else, just to stay here.

“We don’t have to be back until nine.”

The realization that he also doesn’t wish to leave makes you smile. That’s barely enough time to get properly dressed when you’re back at the hotel and then drive to the airport. It’s so unlike him.

‘I haven’t been at the beach in so long.”

You can picture him now, turning bright red under the sun and playing around with Jack.

“Do you not go with Jack?”

His lips pull downward and you immediately regret asking.

“We haven’t taken a vacation in so long.”

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t want to-”

“Don’t worry, you didn’t say anything wrong. We probably should take one soon.”

Your hand touches his, just a tiny bit, pinkies finding each other.

“You should take him to the beach.”

“Perhaps we’ll take you too.”

“Oh, I don’t know if my boss will allow that. I am indispensable to the team.”

“I’m sure we can work something out.”

You laugh and lie backwards when your back has finally had enough of all the crouching.

“That was actually my plan all along. I lured you here to get more vacation days.”

He watches you from above, entranced by the image of you splayed out on the sand. Your hair forms a halo around you and the sand seems golden when the first rays of sunlight finally find it. Your eyes do too, “I should have known.”

It feels awkward, sitting when you’re lying down, so he succumbs to the sand at last. You beam at him when he does, relishing in the way he’s come undone before you. You can really look at each other now, there’s no more pretending that the sea has your full attention. Shades of pink and orange in the sky, sea foam landing near your feet, but this is really all there is.

“Do you ever think of quitting the job?”

This really messes with him all of the sudden. You can see the change in the way his body tenses.

“Do you?”

“I asked first.”

He releases a deep breath and you can almost feel warm on your face, “Sometimes, but it’s the only thing I’m good at. I wouldn’t know what else to do.”

“That’s not true. You’re good at many things.”

He avoids your gaze and you know you’ve really struck a nerve here.

“Not good enough.”

“Now, that’s really not true. You’re brilliant at everything you do.”

He sits up, suddenly very aware of his vulnerability.

“Or I just give everything I have to this job and my bare minimum to everything else. Even Jack.”

“That’s not fair, Aaron. You’re a very good father to Jack and I know just how much he looks up at you. Even if it’s the bare minimum sometimes, your bare minimum is a lot more than other people can give at their best. It’s just hard to keep a balance.”

He feels your hand touch his back gently, asking for permission. The way he relaxes under your touch grants it and you move your thumb in circles as a soft caress. He turns to face you.

“Are you thinking of leaving?”

Your hand drops, shocked at the sudden change in his tone. He seems so full of emotion like this; all layers peeled away before you.

“Not decisively. They’re just thoughts,” Aaron seems unconvinced by your answer and your gaze falls downward in an attempt to escape the scrutiny, “I just don’t know if this is something I can do forever, so from time to time, I think about what else there might be out there. Maybe going private, opening up an office.”

“You want to be a therapist?”

“I am licensed.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Maybe. It definitely seems… easier.”

He doesn’t really know what to say. He knows it would be good for you, he knows this job will eat away at you until there’s very little left there. It’s what it did to him, but the thought of it happening to you seems much more unbearable.

“The team would miss you,” is such a typically professional thing of him to say, so the rest surprises you, “I would miss you.”

“I would miss you too.”

Tenderness, again. Now that he’s started, he doesn’t think he can stop.

“This has been one of the best days I’ve had in a while. I mean, being with Jack always makes me feel much better, but this… being like this with an adult-with you, it’s really nice.”

You smile and adjust your body to be closer to him.

“Really nice.”

From the corner of your eye, you can make out a convenience store in the distance that’s just now opening up.

“Would you allow me to treat you to some ice cream before we go?”

He stands up first, offering you his hand like before.

“I think you know me well enough to know that I won’t,” he stands up first and offers you his hand like before, “I am definitely buying.”

“Worth a try.”

There is sand all over his hair and shoulders. Being this relaxed, it suits him incredibly.

“Can I?”

He leans down and toward you, surrendering to the freedom of your touch when you pat off what sand you can see on him. All these hours of crossing boundaries and you’re still not entirely sure how you’ve gotten so comfortable with him, but he melts every time you touch him, as if experiencing gentleness for the very first time.

Might as well be the first time, he figures.

“You have some too in your hair.”

You turn around and he almost envelops you, although he’s hesitant in the beginning. Both his hands entangle themselves in your hair, those lovely hands, and softly separate and pat where needed. You always knew he hid softness underneath, just didn’t know it was there for you to enjoy.

You get your ice cream, gag when you taste just how much lemon zest they have put in the vanilla and he offers to exchange with his chocolate. Says he does it with Jack all the time and you gasp at the connotation.

“It is absolutely not childish to not like citrus fruits secretly involved in every dessert.”

He hums and smiles at you, bites and licks right where your own mouth was a moment ago. It puts thoughts in both of your heads.

You walk the entire way back and your feet definitely feel it, but you’re too focused on the feeling of impending separation. You will see each other again in half an hour but it just won’t be the same.

It might never be the same.

When you’re finally ready to part from each other in the hallway, he thinks about kissing you. Thinks you would taste like chocolate and waffle on his mouth, thinks a lot about the tiny bit of violet body lotion left on your neck that he can smell from this distance.

Would it really change that much? Is that the final line to cross after tonight?

He doesn’t have any answers, so he doesn’t.

“I’ll see you in a bit.”

“See you in a bit, Aaron.”

He’s going to cling on your use of his first name for a while, although when you’re back in the jet, it’s as if nothing happened. Now clad in his usual attire, he’s regular Hotch; prim and proper, sat upright with crossed arms in his seat in the only way he knows how to rest in front of others.

Yet, you know. You see Aaron in the gentle shutting of his eyes, the tiny remnants of sand in his hair.

Something has changed.

part two

[chrisevansonly]

𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

ʚ charles leclerc x female reader

ʚ charles gets the one call he never wanted to get, and despite your worries about his precious pista, he doesn’t care about the car. just you.

ʚ angst, description of injuries (minor), mentions of blood, panic attacks, violence (minor), tears and lots of soft charles

ʚ okay idk why i thought of this idea, but i have and here we are, i know people have been asking for angst, this idk if it qualifies as the angst you’re all looking for but I will work on some other ideas too:)

Time was frozen as you sat in the driver’s seat of what once looked like a Ferrari 488 Pista. Only now you could make out the back of the car, the front of it might as well be in a what not to do when you drive a luxury vehicle catalogue. Your head was ringing and your chest pounding as adrenaline and anxiety pumped through your veins, as much as you’d started to feel pain in a multitude of places, your brain was thinking of only one thing;

Charles is going to be so mad.

To make matters worse, the man who had hit you was now cursing through the tinted window, claiming the accident to be all your fault. Deciding to think about Charles’s potential anger later you picked your phone up and called his number.

Thankfully it didn’t take long, 

“Hi baby, are you on your way back”

A pause 

“Um…I-I got in an accident Char…”

The line was silent before he spoke up, panic laced in his voice. 

“Qu'entendez-vous par ‘accident?’  Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé? Où es-tu, es-tu gravement blesse.”

“Charles, english please my head hurts so bad.”

Normally you’d be able to hold an entire conversation with him in French, but right now it was just too much.

“I’m sorry, where are you baby? Are you hurt bad?”

Sniffling softly, you hummed

“I am down by the marina; my head really hurts. The man who hit me…he-he is yelling loudly at me…can you-oh Charles your poor car….”

“No, don’t even worry about my car baby, you matter more to me, I can’t replace you, but I can replace the car. I’ll be there in ten minutes, keep the doors locked, don’t get out.”

You nodded, only then realizing he couldn’t see you. 

“Yes, okay, I’ll wait here…please hurry”

“I will chérie, I promise.”

-

Just like he’d said, a familiar black Alfa Romeo pulled up next to the crash site, Charles quick to get out and come towards the driver’s side door, only to see the man banging at the window. 

“Hey, can you step away from my car?”

The man turned to look at Charles

“Cette stupide salope a détruit ma voiture!”

“Je vous le redemande, éloignez-vous de ma voiture”

It was getting harder for Charles to reign in his anger, quickly pushing the man back, giving him a look that at this point in the evening, had him backing away, finally allowing Charles to open the door and see you

“Hey..hey.. I’m here, its okay?”

Charles swore his heart broke as you looked at him with teary eyes, a bruise above your eyebrow, but thankfully you appeared alright otherwise.

“I-I’m so sorry about your car Charlie, he just-he came out of nowhere, and I-I couldn’t-I am so so sorry!”

Holding back the sobs was almost impossible at this point, but Charles was quick to undo your seatbelt, helping you turn towards the door and put your feet on the ground. Once he had you turned toward him, he brought his hands up to hold your face, his thumbs swiping your cheeks.

“My love, listen to me, you are my main priority, you are the love of my life, and this car is just mental and parts, all which can be fixed, but you cannot, and I cannot have another one of you, ever okay?”

Sniffling you nodded

“Okay…”

In the distance you could heard the sirens coming your way, knowing you’d be going to the hospital, it was a given but for now you really just needed Charles, and he wasn’t going anywhere, that was for sure.

“Are you hurting badly baby?”

“No, just my head…can you help me up?”

Your boyfriend nodded, holding onto your arms gently as he helped you stand up, before bringing you into his chest, your arms wrapping around him, as he did the same to you.

“I am so glad you’re okay, you have no idea how worried I was…we’ll get you to the hospital and then i’m not leaving your side”

“Promise you won’t?”

Charles smiled as he saw your pinky finger come up, quickly linking his in a pink promise, a tradition you’d both been doing since your third date.

“I promise, i’m not going anywhere”

As the sirens got closer, you leaned further into Charles, knowing no matter what happened, he’d be by your side for as long as you needed him, he’d be there. It didn’t matter if he had a race, media or social events to attend, for you he’d drop them in a heart beat over and over again.

Because he never wanted to get that kind of phone call again.

translations:

-Qu'entendez-vous par ‘accident?’  Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé? Où es-tu, es-tu gravement blesse : What do you mean by 'accident?' What happened? Where are you, are you seriously injured?

-Cette stupide salope a détruit ma voiture!: This stupid bitch destroyed my car!

-Je vous le redemande, éloignez-vous de ma voiture: I'm asking you again, get away from my car

[shiningjustforreid]

aura

where Spencer Reid meets someone who shares his pain - if only for a bit.

word count: 1774

a/n: hi! this is my very first published fic (even though i’ve read for years!) and it’s nothing major, but i thought it would be fun to finally write! i hope you enjoy <3

warnings/tags: 18+ (implied intimacy), migraine-era spencer reid, reader has migraines, reader is called ‘girl’ once, heavy themes at the end, spencer rambles about stars, hospitals, spencer calls reader ‘angel’, no use of y/n

- ✩ -

Hospitals may be one of his least favorite places.

“Did you know that actually on any given day 1 in 31 people in a hospital have a hospital induced infection? these include things like a surgical site infection, MRSA,”

Cue the smell of the antiseptic, drowning out the smell of people dying. It’s too clean.

Makes him on edge. But then again, most things do. When people give him that look that clearly says ‘shut up.’ He seems to pull in darkness, trouble, and maybe it’s because he creates it for himself.

Currently, he’s sat, in one of those uncomfortable hospital benches, foot tapping anxiously, sunglasses on, because everything hurts. Notably, his head and eyes.

The lights. The lights build a nausea in him that’s like a tidal wave, build an agony behind his eyes that threatens to reduce his thought process to ash. He still squints, behind the black plastic; it’s not enough, not enough to quell the pain entirely.

“No, I’m, about to go in, actually.”

Is what he should’ve said. But Spencer Reid, a forward man, an eloquent man, is not.

“Can I sit here?”

Quiet, but polite. He makes the mistake of looking up. Your hair is messy, probably from the wind outside, and tucked away from your face. The coat you have on is a deep admiral blue, and it just makes the lack of color in your face all the more apparent. A green bag, slung on your shoulder, as you fiddle with the zipper. Chapped lips form into a halfway smile, and, most noteworthy of all, you have black, plastic glasses on.

“I have an appointment, it’s probably, it’s right after yours, but if I can’t sit here, it’s okay, I-“

You’re backtracking, which means you’re nervous, probably because he’s just been looking at you with an impassive expression, even more unreadable due to the glasses. He clears his throat, and opens his mouth.

“No, um, actually I’m waiting. Hopefully not much longer though.”

God help him, because there’s a shared struggle here, between the two of you. He sees it, in your tense shoulders, the way you sit down slowly, as to not generate any more pain than necessary, the way your hands tremble like leaves in the wind when you adjust your glasses after slowly turning to him. Your halfway smile stays put, though, even through the slow movements.

You move like that, because every movement seems to intensify the burning hot behind your skull.

He knows. He doesn’t know you. Not at all.

But he knows your pain. And maybe that’s enough.

You don’t nod, because it’s unnecessary movement.

“Yeah, I finally gave in and booked an appointment. I’ve had to call out of work for them at least 3 times in the last two weeks.”

Them. The migraines. You don’t need to name them, you both just know. You’re clearly both there for a reason.

“I’m uh, Spencer, by the way. I’ve had mine for a bit now too.”

You tell him your name, and the sound makes a welcome warmth flood through his chest. A star, tiny, but burning, is born. Gravity in his chest, tugging you in, as your heat floods his heart.

Bad idea, bad idea - the alarm bells are clanging. He doesn’t know how sick he is, and he really doesn’t know how sick you are. This could spell disaster, and yet-

He’s intrigued. You radiate this nervousness, a distinct desire to be understood, seen, known. He knows that desire. He has that desire. He wants to know you.

“I think mine might just be due to stress, but, I don’t know. It’s the easiest explanation to deal with.”

For your sake, he hopes that’s all they are. Stress.

And, you’re still sitting there, head bowed, when the nurse comes out and asks questions.

She asks about hallucinations. As if this hell is all in his head. You sit there, silent, biting your lip, worrying the cracked skin in your teeth, your hands picking at the fraying edge of your coat.

When he comes back out, somehow even more tired, even though all he did was lie there and answer some questions, he speaks your name, softly.

As if he has the right to.

You jump a little, look up, and remove your glasses. He stares, he can’t help it. Visible, is the pain, the way your ocular muscles are tense, your skin without color, but you smile, still.

He makes you smile.

“Everything okay?”

Spencer nods hurriedly.

“Fine, for now, I have to get to work. You uh-you’re next?”

“Mhm. Will I—is there any chance I’ll see you again, Spencer?”

You don’t know him. You know him, you must.

“Uh, I mean, I—you want to see me again?”

When will he learn to speak when it actually matters?

“Only if you want to, I-I know I would like to see you again.”

He leaves the hospital, that damn hospital, with a small slip of paper, with ten numbers scrawled in purple ink, and your name below it, a tiny smiley face beside it.

When he gets home from his next case, he fishes that paper out of his messenger bag and types each digit into his cell phone with shaky hands.

Is he tempting fate? Perhaps. But fate answers, your soft voice coming through the phone.

Soon, he finds himself at a café with you, sipping his saccharine sweet coffee and telling you about his job, or some book he just finished, in detail that you don’t seem to protest against. It’s refreshing, really - just to be listened to. To be heard. When you leave, you give him a barely-there kiss on the cheek, a soft goodbye. The star burns brighter.

“I had my follow up appointment.”

He tells you, on the third date, as you two sip coffee once more - are these dates? Would Morgan be impressed? - trying to keep the conversation casual, yet relevant. Your eyes widen with interest.

“And? Did they give you answers?”

He makes a face, shaking his head.

“No. Well, yes, but they told me it’s psychosomatic.”

All in his head.

Your face falls, and you look truly sympathetic.

“I’m sorry, Spencer. I knew how much you didn’t think that to be the case.”

He takes comfort, then, in the way you hug him goodbye, your cheek pressed against the cotton of his cardigan, eyes shut against the light. He tenses, only for a second, before his arms curl around you, resting against your coat.

“We should do dinner.”

He mumbles into your hair, before he can stop himself.

A real date.

And you do. You have dinner, and he makes you laugh, even though it’s quiet, like a bell ringing at Christmas, tiny, joy-filled, and the star in his chest just glows. Your face is tense, though, and he can’t figure out why. You won’t say. either. You never do. You keep your responses composed, and careful, calculated. Like you’re afraid. He wonders why, but won’t press it. You are made of nervous energy. He knows this now.

A few months, of appointments for both of you and cases for him where he aches for your hand in his and coffee and dinner and museum dates, and one ice skating excursion he will not mention, and then—

He makes another mistake then, when he asks you to come over, after a case.

“Just for coffee, or to talk, not to-you know, unless that’s what you want, I—“

Yet, that’s how he ends up with you in his bed, in his lap, your warm hands sliding over his skin like you’re in awe, your wide eyes meeting his own, because he dimmed the lights, and thank God neither of you are hurting right now.

He takes you apart, piece by piece, with his mouth on your collarbone and fingers across your ribs, learning, seeking to know. Because that’s what he wants, to know you, fully, in every way he can, until there’s nothing left for him to study.

After he watches you tremble under him, with his name on your lips, he realizes he’ll never be able to memorize all of you. You’re too extensive, with the blush on your cheeks and the way you cling to him and the way your eyes sparkle for a moment, just a moment, before they dim again.

You’re tucked into him, under his chin, as he traces shapes mindlessly into your back with his fingertips. He feels that star, burning bright in your arms, for millennia to come.

“I love you.”

You smile against his chest, before you speak again, choked up.

“You shouldn’t.”

“Whyever not, angel girl?”

Because you are like an angel, come down from the heavens, his angel, gracing his life during some of the most incredible pain he’s ever felt.

“They told me I’m dying. They found the source of it all.”

And the star fizzles, and sparks, and slowly, a cold ice begins to dwell where the star was. Months fly by, and yet drag, each day feeling long but the weeks short.

He finds himself in the hospital - miraculously, his migraines have given him respite today - your hand in his, his eyes on you. You don’t say much, you never did, but now, he feels like you don’t ever speak at all.

Until you do.

“Spence?”

The light in his chest flickers, illuminating his darkness.

“Yes, angel?”

“Can you talk? About anything? I just wanna hear you.”

He nods, and his voice gets quiet, almost breathless, the longer he speaks.

“Did you know that stars actually are simultaneously pulling apart and being pushed together? The heat from inside the star creates a pressure that causes the atoms to separate, but the gravity attraction forces them back together, as it burns. The bigger a star is though, the less time it takes to go through that fuel.”

He stops, looking down at you. He wonders if you’re listening.

“But when the heat is gone, when it stops burning, there’s nothing to counteract the gravitational pull, and—“

And it collapses in on itself.

“And it just sort of sucks everything else in without its heat, the light, if it’s large enough. Pulling everything in, everyone in-“

He’s said too much. You open your eyes, your voice barely a whisper.

“I don’t want you to do that. You won’t, Spencer, I swear.”

In a rare moment of strength, you tug yourself up, to hold his face in one hand.

“You burned before me. You’ll burn again.”

He nods, desperately trying not to weep.

But I won’t burn like I did with you.

“The brightest stars burn the fastest, so we must love them while we can.”

- Anna Todd

[married-to-google-translater]

I have a cursed idea and I want to share it with you.

Okay, imagine that you are helping Malleus with the computer. He's really not that good with technology and since he's your "friend" you've promised to help him.

You need to go to the bathroom for a while and you take a break. And when you go back Malleus would have accidentally ended up on "abdult" sites... Typos are not always nice.

This is where the fun begins... When you try to explain things as roundly as possible to Malleus and at the same time make him promise not to talk to Sebek about it... You don't have a death wish.

Luckily things he saw weren't soooo bad... But maybe it's best stay away from Sebek a while.

Plot twist: Malleus knew exactly what he was after and did it so that you would "defend his honor" and marry him after the incident... He's mildly disappointed when it doesn't work out that way.

[moonstruckme]

also i LOVE your poly!marauders apocalypse au (so creative btw!! i'm obsessed!!) and would be so down to read something in that universe where the reader gets hypothermia or something like that hehe !!!! <333333

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: mild hypothermia

apocalypse poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You keep tripping, which is mildly embarrassing. You think it’s a combination of fatigue and the general numbness that’s pervaded your body even through the layers you’d put on when you’d packed up the campsite that morning. You’d all agreed that, with the death eaters on your trail, it’s really only safe to stay in one area for a few days at a time, even with all the protections you place around your sites. But that means days where, instead of lounging around your tent, listening to the radio and plotting for the Order, you use all the daylight you have to hike through the wintry woods until you’re far enough away to set up another camp. 

Sirius glances back when you stumble again, the toe of your boot catching on a branch you hadn’t seen buried in the snow. It’s a more dramatic affair than it should be, and you barely get your other foot out in front of you fast enough to avoid face-planting into the leaf litter. 

Your shivering worsens as another gust of wind burns your face, making your thick jacket feel like mesh. You think this has to be the worst moving day your group has had yet. The cold is the same, but the sun hasn’t so much as peeked from behind the clouds all day and the wind makes it nearly unbearable. The snow is thick enough that you’ve started stepping in the boys’ footprints to save energy. One of the many perks of taking up the rear. 

You nearly hit Sirius when he stops in front of you. 

“This clearing looks about as good as any,” James is saying, but Remus looks hesitant. 

“I don’t know,” he frets. “Do you think it’s far enough? We’ve been slow today.” 

“You’re tired,” James says kindly. You look at Remus, noting his slouched posture, the weariness he’s never quite learned to hide from his expression. You’re not sure how you didn’t notice his exhaustion before. You’re usually more aware of those things. “And it’s horrid out here. Let’s just call it a night, and if you’re still anxious about it tomorrow we’ll go a bit further.” 

“I can make it further tonight.” 

“It’s not all about you, Moony,” Sirius drawls. He looks especially monochrome against all the fresh white snow, you think. His superblack hair is as eye-catching as neon. “I’ve got a rock in my shoe I’d love to get out, and I know y/n’s knees have to be black and blue from the way she’s been falling for the past hour.” 

His scheme works; Remus looks to you, arguments of his own fortitude forgotten. “Are you tired, dove? You want to stop?” 

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess. It’s cold.” 

Suddenly all three boys seem focussed intently on you. You’re not sure why. You don’t actually recall much of what you’d been talking about. 

“Could you say that again?” James asks you. His brows are stitched together and his eyes have gone all sharp behind his glasses. 

“I just said it’s cold.” 

“Why’re you talking like that, doll?” Sirius takes a step toward you, then looks to Remus. “Why is she slurring?” 

“I don’t know,” Remus says softly. He’s looking at you weird, too. Frowny. “Yeah, let’s set up. Maybe she just needs a rest.” 

James spells the tent up quickly, then makes Remus stay and sit with you while he and Sirius set up the protections and everything else. The temperature inside the magical tent is cozy. Remus lights a fire in the grate to warm you all up. 

“Do you feel okay, lovely?” he asks, helping you out of your jacket. You sit on the bed, working off your shoes. 

“Yeah, just…just really tired.” 

He furrows his eyebrows, placing a palm on your cheek. You have no clue how it’s so warm, but a sigh escapes you as you lean into the touch. 

“When did you start tripping?” he asks you. 

You…you’re not sure. You can’t remember the first time it happened. How long had you been walking?

Your bemusement must show on your face, because Remus’ mouth pinches. His hand slides down to cup your face, fingers pressing oddly into your jaw. Frankly, you could care less where he puts them so long as he keeps touching you.

“Feeling better?” James asks, materializing behind Remus. You’re not sure which one of you he’s talking to, but you hum contentedly anyway. 

“I think she might be hypothermic,” Remus doesn’t look away from you as he talks, his eyebrows lowered like he’s waiting for you to answer a question you don’t remember him asking. His fingers press harder into your neck. “Her pulse is…scary weak.” 

James looks at you, and you look at Remus. 

“You really think so?” you ask him, befuddled. “I don’t feel…I’m only tired.” 

“Hypothermia makes you tired,” he tells you gently. “And you’re slurring your words, love.” 

You feel an icy tendril of fear snake around your spine. “I am?” 

“You’re alright.” James catches onto your panic quickly, leaning over Remus to give your shoulders a bolstering squeeze. “Let’s just get some of these layers off you, and then we’ll swaddle you in blankets.” He starts easing off your jumper, leaving you in just your undershirt. You’re newly cognizant of the sluggishness of your movements as you raise your arms to help him. “Once you sit by the fire for a bit, you’ll be feeling back to normal in no time.” 

You nod numbly, lifting your bum to tug off the jeans you’d worn over leggings. James takes the blanket from the bed and wraps it around you while Remus goes to find more in the other room. 

“Poor love,” James coos, dropping a kiss to your head. “You’re shaking like a leaf.” 

“No duh,” Sirius says, the tent flap letting in a blast of cool air behind him. “It’s fucking freezing out.” 

James offers him a sorry smile. “We think she’s got hypothermia.” 

Sirius sobers, stormcloud eyes flickering to you. “Shit, really? How bad is that?” 

“Not too bad, I don’t think,” Remus says, nudging past him with a stack of blankets in his arms. “I mean, it’d be great if I’d thought to bring any books on that sort of thing, but I’m fairly sure if it were bad she’d be more confused and a bit…blueish.” He drapes a blanket over your shoulders, letting James pull it tighter and tuck it about as he wishes. “Do you feel any better?” 

“I think so,” you say quietly. It’s a bit unnerving to be at the center of so much alarm like this. You do feel better being out of the cold, but you’re not sure if that’s what he’s asking. “It’s a little hard to tell.” 

“You don’t seem like you’re slurring as badly,” James evaluates. He cups the back of your neck, planting a kiss on the frozen tip of your nose. “I think you’re getting better already, lovie.” 

Your face certainly feels warmer. 

Sirius grins at your flustering, though it’s dampened by worry. “What about a hot chocolate?” he asks, tone unusually gentle. “Does that sound like it might help?” 

“I’m fine,” you say, and he disregards you immediately, posing the same question to Remus. 

“Would that help?”

Remus shrugs. “It could. Doubt it would hurt. James, love, I think she’s got enough blankets.” 

James frowns, peering through the layers of covering to find your face. “Do you feel warm enough, angel?” 

You blink, owlish. “I think so?” 

He shakes his head. “Sounds far from certain. More blankets it is. Sirius, get started on the hot chocolate.”