#okay guys sorry to force this on you have a nice day or night

[miloicy]

i had to show my friend a vision (they dont know twst) (before you ask, no they didnt get it) :(

idk maybe jackdeu sprained their ankles during club

left box means expectations/fantasy, right means reality

[emotionoitme]

nectar of the gods

nectar of the gods - lana del rey

part 2 of don’t call my name

warnings: jealousy, the c word (claire), pervy carmy but that’s a given, date gone wrong (pushy man & use of some force. nothing bad happens), guard dog carmy, small argument. nasty smut: themes of brat tamer carmy, female masturbation, teasing + condescending dirty talk, fingering, squirting, biting, kissing, unprotected sex (oops), slight size kink, he doesn’t choke her but he holds her neck, slight breeding kink, ok maybe not so slight, she gets fucked kind of stupid. 

wc: 9.5k

a/n: thanks so much for the love on part one! let me know what u think of this one!! <3 enjoy the nastiness

playlist

the weeks that followed the soft touches and heated kisses were, to say the least, awkward. 

carmen has never been the strongest communicator, and working long hours at the bear conveniently meant they didn’t really see much of each other. 

unluckily for him, she conveniently seemed to be home when he had invited claire over to talk.

in his defense, it was a late night, heat of the moment decision. one in which he was caught in a weak spot–feeling lonely and, admittedly, thinking obsessively of his roommate. a decision he deeply regretted the following day, when he had checked his messages and saw she said yes. 

claire came over for morning coffee when carmy decided to go into work late. she gave him a enthusiastic greeting when he opened the door, rushing forward to hug him. it didn’t feel right, but he reciprocated. 

“so good to see you, carm,” she told him, warmly. 

“hey, you too,” eyes glancing over to the clock beside the door, “you’re early.” 

she pulled back, smiling. 

“i thought you’d be happy to have more time with me.”

he gestured her in and shut the door. he hadn’t really wanted her to come at all once he woke up, but how could she have known that? 

he felt stupid. 

“i, am” he replied unenthusiastically, “but my, um…. my roommate is still home.” 

“you have a roommate now?” she asked. 

“yeah, just for a while. want to go outside?” he questioned, eyes darting to the stairs. 

“can’t we just sit at the table? it’s cold out.” claire followed his gaze to the staircase. 

he paused, sighing. 

“okay, yeah. let’s sit at the table.” hand running through his hair, pulling slightly. he forced himself to sit and meet her gaze, asking her how she’s been, trying to pay attention. trying to care. 

a few minutes into their conversation, he heard soft footsteps approaching from behind. 

“goodmorning,” his roommate called out, smiling at claire. carmen whipped his head around. she was dressed for work. she looked good. 

“oh. hi,” claire returned, “you’re carmy’s roommate?” the surprise evident in her voice. 

“only short term,” she replied, shooting carmen a glance, “and you are?”

“i’m claire,” she returned with a smile, “i’m his-”

“she’s my friend.” carmy interrupted, watching as claire’s eyebrows shot up at this. 

“umm, we’re a little more than friends,” claire laughed, turning to his roommate, “me and carm have known eachother since we were kids. and we dated for a while, didn’t we, bear?”

he watched as his roommate widened her eyes a bit, nodding.

“how sweet. you guys are so cute together, you should date again,” sickly enthusiasm rung from her voice, “nice to meet you claire, but i’ve gotta get to work.”

“so nice meeting you! i’ll see you around.”

his roommate didn’t respond, quickly walking to the kitchen to grab a thermos of coffee then rushing out the door, letting it slam behind her. 

“she’s cute,” claire complimented, “should i be worried?” her tone joking, but still locking eyes with carmen. he stayed silent, rubbing a hand over his face, then exhaling. 

“listen, claire, you, uh…. you’ve gotta go. i’m sorry for inviting you.” 

“what?”

he left for work as soon as she was out the door, trying to distract himself from the reminder of all the people he had hurt so early in the morning. 

besides that tense interaction, he didn't see his roommate at all for about a week and a half. 

that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still think about her, though. in fact, it felt like he couldn’t focus on anything else—the night of their hungry kisses and gentle touches playing like a loop in his head. 

he thinks of how responsive she was, how her lips felt. how he longed to hear her beg for him. 

almost two whole weeks passed, and he still wasn’t man enough to face her, making sure he was in the restaurant until late at night and out of the apartment extra early in the morning. 

he scrubbed at the stovetop, remembering the smell of her skin. yearning for it. he stood at the expo and barked directions, skin prickling with the memory of her touch. the slight drag of her nails across his abdomen. how eager she was. 

that morning, as the sun just began to flood through the windows, he found himself passing by her room, glancing through the open door. 

he stopped himself as soon as he passed, taking a step backwards to get another look. 

she lay sleeping on her side, facing away from him, one leg resting on top of the duvet. her breath was steadily rising and falling, big shirt was bunched up over her waist, allowing him the pleasure of gliding his eyes along the curve of her bare waist. he savors the moment, gaze gliding down to her hip, then falling on the little blue pair of underwear that clung to her ass. 

and yes, he felt like a creep, but he still continued to stand there and watch her for a few minutes, wishing he could take a picture to remember the captivating sight. 

instead he just forced himself to walk away. 

it’s a long, stressful day of refires, late tickets, and continuous yelling. 

carmen only gets home shy of midnight, basking in the still silence of the apartment as the door latches. he slips his coat off and hangs his keys on the hook—the key hook she put up, after the 5th time he had asked her if she had seen his keys. 

hers were gone, surprisingly. he wonders where she could’ve been at midnight with a nervous uncertainty. 

carmen makes his way to the kitchen, grabbing a cold glass of water before walking over to the couch to collapse. 

the living room was illuminated in a soft lamp light. he loved that there would be lights on when he came home. it felt less lonely, somehow. 

his eyes glance around the room, noting the addition of potted plants, some throw pillows and blankets, art, framed pictures. some of her family, some of his. 

it had thrown him off, a bit, to come home one day, before the awkwardness, to see a framed picture of him and mikey standing on one of the living room’s side tables. he hardly recognized the old picture, studying it with disbelief. on that day, he picked it up and walked to his roommate’s door, knocking softly. 

“come in,” she had called. 

he opened the door, and found her sitting at her vanity, combing her hair. he held up the picture, pointing to it. 

“shit, i’m sorry. i should’ve asked,” she started to explain. 

“-no, no, i was, uh, just a little surprised,” he reassured, “where did you get this from?” 

she set her comb down on the vanity and turned to face him. 

“it was in a box at the back of my closet,” she told him, “lots of pictures. i promise i didn’t go through it. that one was just at the top. and i thought it was sweet. i was just thinking since i have so many up of my family, you would-” 

“-no, yeah. thank you. it was really nice of you,” he admitted, “just caught me off guard.”

she gave him a sympathetic smile. 

he fondly recalls the memory as he studied the decorations. never before had his home felt so much like a home.  

he lets his eyes shut slowly, basking in the comfort of the plush couch. around 20 minutes pass until he hears muffled voices from outside the unit, then the sound of keys fumbling with the lock. 

his stomach drops a little at the thought of having to face her, so he keeps his eyes closed, hoping he could ignore the interaction all together. as the door swings open, he hears her voice. 

“okay, thanks. i’ll see you around,” tiredness evident in her tone. then, a man’s voice. 

“it’s a nice place. what’s the inside like?” 

carmen feels a surge of annoyance. was she bringing men over? 

“it’s, uh, nice too. i have to get up early tomorrow though, so-”

“we had a nice time, right? let’s keep it going.” the man’s tone becomes pushier. carmen’s annoyance turns to anger. who did this douchebag think he was? he hears his roommate release a sardonic chuckle. 

“listen, dude, get out. i’m not interested.” her tone firm and assertive. carmen sits up slightly to peek over the couch. 

“god, i can’t stand women like you,” the stranger retorts, “a $200 check, and you’re not even gonna invite me in?”

carmen watches as she tries to close the door. the man puts his arm out, aggressively pushing it back open. he sits up the rest of the way, having had enough of the interaction. 

“hey fuckhead,” he barks. the stranger’s eyes dart to him, clearly surprised there was another person home. 

“she said get out.” his jaw is tight, eyes wide, staring the man down. “we gonna have a fuckin’ problem?” 

the stranger puts his hands up in defense, taking a step back. 

“hey, no problem here, man. just trying to say goodni-”

she slams the door in his face, latching the deadbolt. the girl lets out a heavy sigh before glancing over to where carmen sits. 

“thanks,” she mumbles, hanging up her keys and taking her jacket off. he glances over the skin-tight long sleeve dress she was wearing. 

“who was that?” he asks immediately, trying to keep the hint of possessiveness out of his voice. she leans down to slide her heels off, glancing up at him. 

“a date.” 

he continues to stare at her, hoping she would elaborate. instead, she ignores him, walking to the kitchen and putting the tea kettle on to boil. he stands and follows her, brow twitching. 

“you, uh, going on dates now?” he questions, hands coming to his hips. 

“yep,” she curtly replies, grabbing a mug from the cabinet and placing a teabag inside. 

“with guys like that, huh? nice.” he scoffs. the man has trouble rationalizing why he feels so aggravated. 

“fuck off, carmen,” she sharply retorts, refusing to turn toward him, “it’s none of your business.”

“it is when you bring them here” he argues. 

“what, like how you brought your little girlfriend over?” she yanks open the fridge and grabs the milk.

“she is not my girlfriend” he asserts. 

the girl rolls her eyes and ignores him, turning the burner off at the sound of the kettle whistling, pouring the hot water into her mug. he moves closer to her, staring at the side of her face.

“she’s not,” he emphasizes. the added pressure makes her feel compelled to respond. 

“well, she’s something to you,” she argues, setting the kettle back down harder than she intended, turning to face him. she immediately wishes she hadn’t, the intensity of his eyes setting her ablaze, skin prickling. it makes her a little weak in the knees to be face to face with him again, as much as she hated to admit it. 

“no, she isn’t, i- fuck…i had this weak moment after…you and i kissed, and it-,” he exhales, pausing. “i didn’t realize how much i missed…that kind of thing. so i invited her over. and immediately fuckin’ regretted it when she said yes.” 

“why?” she asks softly. 

“why’d i regret it?” he clarifies. she nods. 

he takes a small step closer to her. 

“because i don’t want that kind of thing with claire,” he confesses. 

she doesn’t know what to say, instead just watches him, studying his face. she catches the split second his eyes dart down to her lips, and feels what little resolve she has begin to crumble, so she turns away from him, back to her tea, and begins to stir in some milk. 

“okay,” her reply comes softly, “i get it.” 

“yeah?” he presses, eyes locked on her. 

“yeah,” she responds, “i know how it feels. to get…lonely like that. so truce.” 

he lets out a breath of relief, threading his fingers through his hair. 

silence, for a moment. he watches her bring the hot drink up to her lips and take a small sip. carmy is the one to break the silence. 

“is that, uh, the reason you’re going on dates, then?” he pries.

“what, because of loneliness?” she asks, warming her hands on the mug. he gives her a small nod, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. 

“yeah. i guess so” she responds, “with these… weirdos that don’t let me know they’re weirdos until it’s too late.” her gaze fixes on a point in front of her, unfocused. she stays like this for a moment, then breaks her trance, eyes coming to carmy’s face. his sweet and handsome face. 

“i’m really glad you were here, by the way.” she adds softly. 

he doesn’t know what to say for a second, shaking his head. trying to push away the anxiety that came with what could’ve happened to her, had he not been on the couch at that exact moment. 

“yeah. me too.” he replies soberly. she watches his serious expression, eyes locked. the girl can’t help but break out into a grin and softly giggle. she leans back against the counter.

“it was kinda sexy, too,” she quips, “watching you get all mad like that.” 

carmy can’t help the smile that breaks his solemnity.

“fuck off,” he amuses, shaking his head. she begins to laugh. he likes it a lot. 

“seriously,” she presses still smiling, “it was-…i liked it.” she gave a nod of her head. 

he just keeps staring at her with a soft smile on his face.

“well i don’t wanna yell at anyone else. so no more guys over.”

“oh yeah?” her tone teasing, “it’s kind of your fault that i even went on a date in the first place” she chimes, taking another sip of tea. 

“my fault?” he asks, eyebrows lifting. 

“yeah. i mean, i wouldn’t have to if you weren’t such a…fucking tease.” she tells him, smiling against the lip of her mug

that was the last thing he expected her to say, letting out a small scoff at her bluntness. 

“i’m the tease?” he asks in disbelief. if only she knew the relentless battles he fought internally from the second he first saw her. she’d been teasing him without knowing it for weeks. 

“you wanted me to beg,” she reminds him, “and then, you left me. i had to fend for myself.” 

he knew. he could hear her through the door. 

“yeah, uh,” he fights the smile that creeps onto his face, “sorry about that.” 

“that’s okay,” she replies, “cause i’m gonna give you payback.” 

“payback?” he amuses, eyes creeping down her face, briefly falling to her chest and admiring the scoop neck dress she wore. okay, maybe not briefly. 

she nods, stepping forward into his personal space, only inches apart. his eyes dart back up to meet hers.  she keeps her gaze locked with his and slides her fingers under his white shirt, ghosting over the deep cut lines of his hips. 

carmen’s breath stills as she hooks the waistband of his pants, leaning in to softly kiss his neck. she peppers sweet kisses up to his ear, then gently catches his lobe in between her teeth. her hands trail up, splaying across his stomach and feeling the firm muscle. carmen clenches his teeth as her lips begin moving along the base of his jaw. 

she had barely touched him and yet that burning sensation begins to creep up his skin. 

once her lips make it to his chin, she straightens and pulls him into her. 

he feels his breath skip.  

the girl hovers her lips over his, giving him only a light impression of touch. the front of her body is flush against his, and she can feel his hardness pressing into her. 

carmy knows exactly what she’s doing, and he doesn’t feel entirely enthusiastic about being teased. 

he glides his hand under her jaw, fingers carding through her hair and resting near the base of her skull. he grabs it tightly and she lets out a soft whimper, lips parting. the sound is too sweet for him to maintain his composure—he wants to taste it. 

carmen pulls her into his lips impatiently, relishing the supple feeling of her mouth. their lips lock together desperately, kisses in tandem. with a last, slow kiss she pulls away with a small grin on her face. his hand still entangles with her hair, eyed fixated on her lips. 

“that all you gonna give me?” he grumbles lowly.

she nods, “mmhm,” and her lip catches between her teeth. 

his free hand comes to grab her side, thumb pressing into her hip bone. she arches into his touch, lids heavy, body increasingly hot. he meets her eyes. 

“you’re…” he exhales, smile creeping at the edges of his lips, “you’re a little brat. y’know that?”  

“you like it,” she argues softly.

she’s wrong, he thinks, he loves it. 

she smooths her hand up his abdomen, fingers pressing into the firm muscle. he tenses under the rousing touch, then groans as she gently drags her nails down the length of his stomach. 

she feels his bulge twitch against her pelvis.

the girl smiles at this, satisfied with her work of payback. she doesn’t give him a chance to respond before she pulls away completely. 

he blinks a few times, processing the loss of heat, watching as she turns to walk out of the kitchen.

he almost follows her, too, but stops in his tracks when she calls goodnight. 

fucking tease. 

-

it was after 1am by the time the girl had showered and completed her nighttime routine, peeling back her duvet and slipping into the silky sheets. 

she tried desperately to clear her mind over the past hour, having difficulty thinking of anything besides her roommate. anything besides how much she had turned herself on in the process of “payback”. 

she lays flat on her back, then turns to her side. then she turns to the other side. then flat on her stomach. the girl releases a sigh of frustration. nothing was comfortable. every inch of her body felt hot. carmy’s lips felt so fucking good. 

the heater is too loud. the streetlights are shining through the curtains. she wants to take him inside of her. 

her hand sneaks underneath the duvet, brushing over her hardened nipples, trailing down her stomach and creeping under the waistband of her panties. 

she thinks about how much she liked kissing him as she begins to drag her finger through her folds. she thinks about how he would always hold himself back. it was easy to tell—he would tighten his jaw and his eyes would get dark, giving her this look at her as if he wanted to devour her whole. she feels herself getting wet, beginning to circle around her clit, frustration at the dull ache within that seemed incurable no matter how much she tried to pleasure herself. 

the girl feels so desperate laying in her bed that she decides she would take whatever carmen would give her.

even if that meant having to beg for it. 

she rips her hand out of her panties and flings the duvet off of her, sharply exhaling as the cool surrounding air kisses her skin. she throws her legs over the side of the bed and stands up. maybe a cold glass of water would help. 

the temperature drops as she exits her room. clad in only underwear and a cropped tank top, goosebumps begin to rise on her skin

as she makes her way down the hallway, curious eyes land on carmen’s cracked door. she stops and takes a peek inside. 

the outside streetlights flood in through his window too, yet there he lay sleeping heavily, completely unbothered. 

she pushes the door open a little more, just out of curiosity. 

he lay on his back, shirtless, with an arm thrown over his face, chest rising and falling steadily. watching him did nothing more than worsen the desire she felt. 

she inches into the room almost uncontrollably, coming to stand next to his bed. 

before she gains enough sense to turn away and leave, she peels back his sheets and slides in next to him. the man shifts a bit, then settles back into his slumber. 

she feels kind of creepy just watching him, but he looks so incredibly handsome in his relaxed state, his plump lips parting with soft exhales. 

she feels such little control over herself, thinking of how she wants to feel him. wants to taste his skin. 

fuck it.

she slowly pulls the sheets down and off of him. he’s wearing a pair of boxer briefs and she can’t help but release a breath of anticipation at the sight. she leans forward and crawls over his sleeping form, straddling him, hands coming to his chest. 

she watches as his head turns and his arm falls from his face, eyes blearily blinking open. 

his eyes meet hers, a stunned expression on his face. 

carmen thinks he’s dreaming at first—the sight above him all too similar to the filthy dreams he had been having lately. 

“uh, hey” he hesitates, voice deep and raspy, heavy with sleep. 

“hi,” she whispers. 

his eyes scan over her form and take in her position. her lack of clothes. she can feel him growing beneath where she sits. 

the girl smiles, giggling softly. 

a lazy smirk grows on his face at this, and he closes his eyes again.

“fingers not doin’ it for you anymore?” 

“shut up,” she retorts, slightly embarrassed. she hates how he knows. “i just wanted to…come see if you were sleeping well,” 

carmy opens his eyes again and his smirk morphs to a grin, arms folding behind his head.

“i was” he confirms, lazily blinking, “but then i got, uh, woken up.” 

“sorry” she sweetly exhales, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “i, um…” her eyes rake down his handsome face, losing her lame excuse completely. she’s silent, zeroed in on his lips with an overwhelming urge to kiss him. she watches them morph to a smile. 

“c’mere,” he whispers, tilting his chin up a bit. she follows his command, almost as if in a trance, leaning forward to capture his lips in a gentle kiss.

it feels blissful, almost like everything besides the two of them fades away. 

soft kisses become deep and the gentleness seems to fade as soon as it starts. the pair mutually quicken the pace of the kisses. they become messier, more desperate. 

the girl leans into him, hand coming to the side of his neck, the other caressing his collarbones. 

carmy chases her increasingly desperate kisses, gripping her hips with both hands, cherishing the feeling of her skin. 

the girl slips her tongue into his mouth and gently moans at the feeling, with which he reciprocates, indulging in the taste of her. his fingers press into her bruisingly. 

she rocks her hips against him. the sensation shoots a spark through her spine, so she continues to rock back and forth, grinding against his bulge, moaning softly into his mouth. 

carmen kisses her roughly, gripping her hips tighter, pulling and pushing her across the length of his cock. 

her panties feel slick, core feels tight, beginning to speed up her gyrations. she can feel the head of his cock through his briefs, and quickly becomes lost in the pleasure, kissing him with a ferocity she hasn’t felt in a long time.

the sensation is incredible to carmen, becoming more pent up by the second. 

she bucks her hips wildly. it feels so fucking good.

he mindlessly tightens his grip on her hips further, and her kisses quickly stop. hips stop. with a sharp inhale and a soft “ow,” her hand comes to his wrist. 

he immediately releases his grip, eyes snapping open. 

“shit, i’m sorry,” he hurriedly apologizes, smoothing his hands over the yet-to-appear bruises—a reminder of why he had tried to force himself to take it slowly with her. “y’okay?” he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“mhmm,” she confirms, leaning down to give him a soft kiss of reassurance. “so strong,” she murmurs into his lips. he releases the breath he was holding, hands still on her hips. 

“can hardly fuckin’ control myself with you.” he admits guiltily.

“then don’t,” she replies softly, sitting upright. 

carmen’s hand falls over his face, sighing. his fingers card through his messy hair, eyes scanning over the girl. a soft smile twitches at the edge of his lips. 

the young woman sucks in a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves from the moment. her fingers thread under the edge of her tank top, and without saying anything, she slowly peels it over her head. 

carmen groans at the reveal, and she feels a twitch underneath her. his hand comes to grab the side of her waist, thumb stroking over her stomach. he stares at her breasts in awe, trying desperately to memorize the dreamlike sight above him. 

“you’re beautiful,” he marvels, hand sliding up her stomach to her ribs, “y’know that?” fingertips grazing the underside of her breast. 

goosebumps rise on her skin from the light touch. 

“touch me,” she tells him impatiently, pushing her chest out further as to emphasize. 

the man lets out a small scoff at her tone, but gives in, cupping her breast and giving it a soft squeeze. he runs his thumb over her raised nipple, giving it a gentle pull. 

she exhales harshly. it feels as if her blood had become hot, biting down on her lip to refrain from making noise. 

carmy brings his hand to her other breast and repeats: a soft caress, then squeeze, then a tug of her nipple, harder this time. she bucks her hips at this, whimper muffled by the tightness of her teeth around her lip. carmen lets out a soft groan at the momentary friction. 

he can feel the heat from her core over his thinly clothed erection as he touches her. the man marvels at her flushed skin, the curve of her breasts, the shape of her stomach, the expression of pleasure on her face. 

she finds herself aching for the friction of a moment ago, giving another testing buck of her hips. so good.

her hands plant on his chest and she continues to slowly grind back and forth against him. the perfect angle causes her bottom lip to release from her teeth, a moan spilling out into the silence. 

carmen keeps his hands pinned to his sides as he watches her closely, clamping his teeth together, clutching his fists. anything to keep himself from spinning her around and fucking her senseless. 

the girl continues to grind against him, one hand planted on his chest and the other coming up to grab her breast. she’s completely blissed out, but carmen feels hungry—her teasing movements not fully satiating. he can feel her wetness begin to seep through and slick the fabric of his boxers. 

“jesus, you’re fuckin’ killing me,” he strains, feeling his patience wear thin, “do something.” sounding almost like a plead.

she smiles, head falling back in pleasure, continuing to chase her high. her eyelids flutter at the pleasure, rocking back and forth.

carmy groans her name, followed by a “c’mon.” 

“ask nicely” comes her taunt, followed by a breathy laugh, continuing to pleasure herself. 

carmen decides he’s done playing with her. he plants his arm on the bed and sits up quickly, pushing her back against the bed, watching her eyes snap open to protest the loss of pleasure. 

“quiet,” he demands, cutting her off. she shuts her mouth, a look of disappointment on her face. he dips down to nuzzle her neck and hide his forming smile, peppering gentle kisses into her skin. her smell is almost intoxicating. carmen grips her waist as he kisses her neck slowly trailing down to her collarbones. he hooks his thumb into the side of her panties and shuffles them down her thighs. 

the girl breathes heavily, skin tingling in the wake of his touch. 

the man dips his hand into her panties, fingers slipping between her folds, feeling her wetness. 

“fuck,” he growls into her neck, “all this for me?” beginning to slowly circle her clit, the noise of her slickness like music to the man. 

she stays quiet, eyelids as heavy as her breathing. 

“hm? c’mon” he pushes, coming up from her neck and looking her in the eye, “tell me, pretty girl.” 

the name causes her chest to flutter, allowing a soft whimper to spill from her lips. the intensity of the sensation in tandem with his eye contact makes her feel dizzy. makes her less embarrassed about showing appreciation. 

“s’all for you, carm” she softly moans.

his fingers continue softly circling around the bundle of nerves, every few moments dipping into her opening to collect more wetness. 

she teases down his abdomen and slips into his briefs, wrapping around his erection. 

carmen softly groans, then inserts a finger, beginning to drag it in and out along her walls. she softly gasps at the feeling, and he can feel her squeeze his cock. 

“more,” she demands softly, starting to stroke him. 

he obeys, inserting a second finger, feeling more resistance now. she gasps. 

he plants a gentle kiss on her cheek, then shuffles down to kiss at her breasts. down where she couldn’t stroke him anymore. the loss of her touch feels cold, so he fucks her with his fingers a little faster to make up for it.

as he sucks her nipple into his mouth, she can feel her juices trickling down her thighs and onto the bed, a bit embarrassed about the mess she can feel herself making on his sheets. 

wet squelching sounds start to reverberate through the quiet room as carmy speeds his fingers up, softly nipping at her perked bud. the girl claps a hand over her mouth, muffling a boisterous moan. 

“hand off,” he growls, sending her a warning glance. she ignores him and closes her eyes, continuing to muffle her sounds of desperation, biting into her hand. 

his jaw clenches, and he pauses his movements. with his free hand he grabs her one wrist, then the other, and pins them over her head. 

the girl’s eyes snap open, and she attempts to fight against his single-handed hold. she gives her best effort, but in her weakened state her struggles do nothing against the man’s strength, so she just huffs. 

carmen scoffs at this, towering over her, beginning to slowly resume the movement of his fingers inside of her. he watches her face closely as he continues—studying the way her eyelids flutter, how her lips part, how her breathing picks up again, how she tries so desperately to hold onto her moans by biting into the flesh of her lips. 

he draws his fingers completely out of her, then slowly reinserts them, curling upwards and beginning to rhythmically thrust them into her. she releases the hold of her lip with a loud moan, unable to stifle it at the new positioning of his fingers. he smiles, having accomplished his goal. his fingers curl further into her. 

the girl begins to feel a bit of panic, an intense and unfamiliar sensation building up within her stomach. not an orgasm, but a deep, hot, wet feeling. with her arms pinned above her head, all she can do is take it.  

carmen speeds up the motion, thumb coming to brush against her clit. 

“fuck!” she yelps, arching into his touch. her mouth falls open, unashamed moans starting to pour out. his pace is relentless, and it feels too good to try and refrain anymore. 

“yeah?” he asks, tone cool and calm, getting a sick type of pleasure from watching her unravel beneath him. he curls his fingers up further, hand becoming soaked with her arousal. 

“mmh-carm, that’s-” she’s cut off by another whine, gaze flickering down to where he was rhythmically pounding his fingers into her. “ah-you…mmmh sogood,” she babbles, completely lost in his touch. 

carmy feels his composure crumbling, groaning at the way she was reacting. 

“c’mon, baby, let go,” he growls, palm sloppily smacking against her clit as he drives his fingers into her. her eyes roll back a bit, and with a final few curls of his fingers she does exactly what he says and lets go, giving into the sensation. the hot, wet tightness within her core bursts, flooding throughout her whole body. 

“fuuckk” she hears him groan, his voice seeming distant. 

her muscles convulse with orgasm, eyes tightly shut and mouth open. everything feels so wet. his fingers slow in pace, remaining deeply lodged inside her, releasing the grip of her wrists from overhead. 

it seems as if the only thing she can concentrate on is trying to remember how to breathe. as she struggles to blink her eyes open, she’s met with a handsome face that stares back at her with what seems like both shock and amazement.

“whathappened?” she jumbledly breathes out. 

he just groans again, dipping down to kiss the girl, big hand grabbing her face. his fingers are wet and sticky on her face. she eagerly reciprocates his kiss, hands coming to feel his chest, a pulsing in her lower stomach. 

carmy plants a kiss to her cheek then sits upright again. she pushes herself up onto her forearms, attempting to reorient. her gaze comes to where he kneels, then falls on the dark spot on the sheets that surrounds them, as if something had spilled. her brows furrow as she pulls her eyes back up to carmy. his face is flushed and pupils dilated, gripping onto the backs of her thighs. 

“you, uh…. god that was fucking hot,” he says with an unwavering stare. 

“did i do that?” she gasps, “fuck, i’m sorry, i’ve never-” hand coming over her mouth in embarrassment, “i’ll wash your sheets. or buy you new ones.” her face turns hot and red. 

he swipes his fingers over her opening, collecting her wetness, then sucks them into his mouth. 

her eyes widen, watching him savor the taste of her. 

“carm, say something,” she begs, still partially mortified. 

“you taste good,” he replies, pulling her closer by her thighs. there’s an animalistic glint in his eyes. 

“not about that,” she looks away out of embarrassment. 

“m’gonna make you do it again,” he strains, pulling down the band of his boxers and allowing his erection to spring free. he works to shuffle them down his thighs.

her short-lived embarrassment dissipates completely at the sight of his cock. he’s thick, and slightly curved, throbbing with arousal, emerging from a dark bush of curls. her breath hitches, and she almost moans at the sight, instinctively spreading her legs further apart for him.

carmen grabs a pillow and lifts her legs, tucking it under her tailbone and pulling her in closely. he begins to glide his head in between her folds, collecting her slick. he nudges against her clit, and she gasps, covering her mouth.  

“y’okay?” he checks, locking eyes with her. she nods her head. 

“mhm, just….be gentle,” she pleads, “please,” slightly intimidated by his girth. 

“i will be,” he nods, giving her a sincere look, “promise.”

she nods back, a signal to go ahead. 

carmy pushes against her opening, slipping his head in slowly. they release a breathy moan in tandem.

he pushes forward until he finds resistance at less than halfway in.  

“fuck,” she pants, hand flying up to grab his wrist. 

“doin’ so good,” he praises, “tell me when you want me to keep going.”

the girl nods, eyes shutting tightly, trying to adjust to the imposing stretch. she releases her grip on him, trailing her fingers down her body to rub circles into her clit. she feels herself relax a bit at the pleasure as carmy’s eyes stay glued to her, watching her every move with enthusiasm. her slow circles speed up ever so slightly, letting out a gentle moan, droopy eyes coming to meet those of the man above her. it feels so good, and she clenches around him. the only thing that would make it better would be-

“kiss me,” she pleads. 

he studies her swollen lips, flushed face, sweet doe eyes—he can’t help but mindlessly obey, caging her with his forearms.

the intoxicating mix of carmen’s kisses and the work of her fingers help her relax. the grip on his wrist loosens, and carmen is able to fully sink in. he pushes forward until his hips are completely flush with hers, moaning into her mouth. she matches it with a gasp. 

the girl can’t believe how full she feels. It’s almost hard to breathe, nails digging into carmy’s bicep. he pulls away from the kiss, thumb coming to stroke the side of her cheek. 

“doin’ okay?” he asks softly. 

she has to take a moment to find her words, overcome with a dizzy head high. 

“fuck, it’s s-so big,” she stammers, both hands now gripping onto his biceps for dear life. 

he can’t help the surge that runs through him at her words, small smirk tugging at the edge of his lip. 

“yeah?” 

“mmhmmm.”

“too much f’you? want me to take it out?” he teases, knowing full well what her answer would be. 

“no!” her eyes snap open “so good, carmy. want you to fuck me.” 

he groans. 

“give it a sec. play with ‘yrself some more. fuckin’ gripping me down there.”

her chest flutters at the sound of his voice—the low growl of it that seemed to resonate through her bones. 

“please,” she begs, pressing a kiss to his lips, “want it so bad,” another kiss, “i can take it.” 

he tightens his jaw, feeling his cock twitch inside of her at the desperation in her tone. 

“you tell me if it’s too much, okay?” he asserts, hand grabbing her waist to steady himself, sitting up. she eagerly nods her head. 

carmy begins to slowly ease out, his length dragging along her tight walls, then pushes his hips forward gently, sinking into her fully. her mouth falls open, a whiny breath spills out. 

he repeats this again, this time snapping his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. her hands smooth up his biceps and wrap behind his neck, tangling in his hair. she pulls him down to her lips, and kisses him with frenzy, then peppers kisses along his cheek and jawline.

the man swears he’s miraculously died and gone straight to heaven, even though he hadn’t been to church in ages. 

the way she smells, the feeling of her lips trailing along his face, the fucking vice grip her pussy wrapped around him with. it’s all like heaven. 

he moves slowly, rolling his hips to softly thrust in and out of her. 

the girl responds enthusiastically, bucking her hips up to accommodate him further. it feels incredible, but it’s not enough for either of them. 

he wants to be gentle with the girl, try and counter the thoughts that pop in his head whenever he looks at her. he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop himself if he gives in. 

so he forces himself to take it slow. and gentle and sweet. 

but the girl keeps bucking her hips up to take more of him, frustrated that he won’t get the message.

“faster,” she whines, placing a few more kisses along his face. 

he ignores her, leaning down to nuzzle her neck. his hand trails downwards, wedging it in between them to lightly rub her clit. his pace stays lazy and soft, kissing her neck. 

“carmy,” she complains, fingers carding up through his hair, “give it to me.”

he just ignores her, slowing the pace of his fingers and biting her neck. 

she gasps and yanks his hair.  

“fuck me already,” she huffs, pout on her lips. 

he growls into her neck, then pulls back, looking at her. his eyes had grown dark, eyebrows slightly twitching. a completely different expression than the soft one he wore previously. 

this one was much hungrier. 

he sits straight up, pulling her legs to be flush with his shoulders, then he practically bends her in half, hands pressing down on the backs of her thighs. 

she flushes at the new position, feeling entirely vulnerable, but too overwhelmed with lust to do anything about it. she goes to say something, but he cuts her off by snapping his hips against hers, driving himself deeply inside of her. her mouth falls open into an o shape, taken aback by the sudden change in angle. she can feel every inch of him this way, so fucking full she can’t even seem to form a thought. 

carmen eases out of her, then sinks inside again, hips slamming against hers. this time she lets out a throaty gasp, eyes droopy, completely transfixed by the sight of him above her. his chest was flushed, a light sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. she wanted to lick it off. his messy curls bounce in time with his movements. 

he pulls back again, and snaps his hips forward, releasing a deep groan. 

she feels too full to make any sounds besides the needy gasps that pour plentifully from her lips. 

carmy smirks down at the girl, studying her blissed out expression with a sense of pride as he continually thrusts into her. his eyes fall to watch her breasts bounce in conjunction with his thrusts, and he can’t help but grab one, squeezing, brushing his thumb over her perked nipple. she arches into his touch. 

he increases his pace, hips beginning to drive into her harder. 

she can feel herself slipping into a cloudy haze, the consistent slap of his hips against hers almost meditative, a red hot pleasure circulating through her whole body. 

“look at me,” he orders, tweaking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

she didn’t even realize she had shut her eyes, forcing them back open to meet his gaze. 

he slides his fingers down her stomach, over her pubic hair, coming to rub her clit. slick noises fill the room as his movements are eagerly met with more and more wetness. 

she studies his handsome face, watches how his eyebrows scrunch, how he bites down onto his lip and flares his nostrils ever so slightly. she wants to have his babies, she thinks in her haze. in that moment she would willingly take anything he gave her. 

she opens her mouth to express her gratitude, but all that comes out is a loud moan. 

“yeah? y’like that?” he asks, hiking her leg further up onto his shoulder. 

“mm-hmmm,” she cries in between breaths, wincing at how deep he was going, but somehow wanting even more. 

“tell me, pretty girl. use those words.” he plants a kiss to the inside of her ankle and keeps thrusting into her. 

“fuck,” she cries, “so good, carm. sososo good.”

his circles around her clit speed up, and the pleasure pushes her to continue, embarrassment out the window. 

“love it,” she gasps, “i love it. you fuck me so good,” beginning to babble, “please don’t stop. please don’t ever stop.” 

a grin breaks his face at this, and he drives into her faster, a wet slapping resounding through the room. he kisses her ankle again, then her foot. 

“whatever you want,” he tells her sincerely. “fuckin’ perfect, y’know that?” another kiss on her foot, “like you were fuckin’ made for me.”

she opens her mouth, but her rationality kicks in and thinks it might be too early to ask him to put a baby in her. she opts to take a less direct approach. 

“cum in me,” a breathy plead, “please,” locking eyes with him. he gives a slight shake of his head, surprised by her words. surprised by how mindlessly he wants to obey. 

“fuck,” he enunciates, “you know i can’t.” the justification of why barely makes it to his mind, overcome with the flood of arousal from her words. 

“i want it,” she whines. her legs slip from his shoulders and wrap around his back, pulling him in close. he releases a groan, sinking further into her, slowing his movements and beginning to punctuate his thrusts. he leans down and kisses her neck. 

“i said no,” he growls, “be fuckin’ good.”

she bites his shoulder. hard enough to sting. 

“ah-f’you keep acting like a brat i’m gonna fuck you like one,” he warns, hands holding her firmly in place. 

she grins, then bites him again, this time on his bicep. and much harder. 

carmen feels himself run out of patience, sitting up and pulling out of her. he shuffles off the bed and stands, and before she can open her mouth to complain, he yanks her up by the arm. his hand presses on her upper back and shoves her into the mattress, grabbing her hips and lifting her to arch to his liking. 

the girl feels slightly humiliated by the vulnerable position, yet finds it does nothing but make the tingling heat of her body intensify. 

she notices her cheek is wet—he had shoved her face first into the spot she made earlier. at this, she lets out an unenthusiastic groan. 

“yeah well, i told you to fuckin’ behave,” he responds, collecting some of her slick and coating it over his cock, stroking a few times. “was tryin’ to go easy on you.” he begins to press the head into her, eliciting a breathy sigh. “but you don’t want me to, huh?” he sinks the rest of the way in. “you’ve been wanting me to give it to you rough, yeah?” 

he buries himself to the hilt, and she gasps, feeling fuller than she ever thought possible. 

“no,” comes her breathy protest into the mattress. he wasn’t wrong. at all. but she had too much pride to admit it, so instead she argues. 

carmy scoffs.

“yeah? that why you’re fuckin’ soaking me? cause you don’t want it?”

he pulls back, dragging along her walls, then thrusts forward. the girl yelps, and takes a deep breath. 

“i’m not,” comes her sharp retort, forearms coming to the bed and pushing herself up. 

carmen drags his fingers up her inner thigh, collecting some of her juices that had trickled down, wordlessly holding them in front of her so she could see. 

her cheeks feel hot. she doesn’t say anything, instead turns her face away from his glistening fingers. he grabs her jaw and pulls her back, pushing his coated fingers into her mouth. the girl makes a noise of disagreement, but doesn’t move away. she swirls her tongue around him, sucking his fingers clean. 

he was right, she does taste sweet. 

carmy drags his fingers out of her mouth slowly, catching her lip on the way down, and wraps around her neck, pressing gently. only enough to remind her who was in charge. 

she willingly submits to the pleasure, arching back against him, growing impatient with his lack of movement. 

she begins to ease herself forward, then rock back onto him selfishly, working to help alleviate some of the pressure that had built within her. 

he lets her, for a moment, admiring the way she bounces against him, watching as she desperately tried to satiate herself. 

he leans forward to plant a kiss to her cheek, fingers still wrapped around her throat, and begins to drive his hips forward to match her movements. 

“yes,” she cries, hoping to god he wouldn’t stop again.  

he doesn’t, continuing to rhythmically thrust into her, filling her up and stretching her out. her hand flies down to her clit and begins softly rubbing, keeping in time with the movement of his hips. she can’t help the plentiful sounds that spill from her lips—sounds of motivation for the man. 

carmen, on the other hand, clenches his teeth together tightly and anchors himself by gripping her hip with his free hand, leaning over her. 

he’s wanted to cum since the second he slipped into her, actively working to refrain and make it last as long as possible. 

her juices begin to flow uncontrollably, completely covering his cock, sticking to his pubic hair. 

everything was wet, and hot, and felt so fucking good. 

the man wants to stay in this very moment for eternity, he thinks.

a particularly deep thrust makes the girl cry out voraciously, a primal cry that seemed to ignite something in him. 

his hand moves from her hip to her upper arm and he pulls her upright. she leans her head against his shoulder, and he wraps a strong arm around her torso, hand coming to hold her neck once again. 

the girl can barely support herself, legs trembling as carmen beings to increase the ferocity of his thrusts. the new angle situates him impossibly deeper—that familiar deep, wet feeling of heat starting to re-emerge within her stomach. his free hand trails down to her clit to help her climb higher.

carmy’s thrusts begin to cause wet squelching sounds. she completely loses herself in the sensation, mind blank with bliss, feeling tears begin to leak from her eyes. 

he grabs her jaw and plants a rough kiss on her cheek. his lips become wet with her tears. 

“that feel good, baby?” he hums into her skin, bucking up into her relentlessly. 

“so good, carm,” she cries, gripping onto his arm for dear life, “love it. so so good.” 

“fuck” he growls, shifting his hips further up into her, eliciting a yelp from the girl. 

“thank you,” she mindlessly moans, “thankyouthankyouthankyou.”

he grins, grabbing her jaw tighter. another rough kiss on her cheek. 

“where’d that fuckin’ attitude go, huh?” plowing forward into her, biting her neck. 

she just whimpers, body falling limp against him. he effortlessly holds her up right where he wants her and continues drilling his hips forward. 

“carmy, i’m- ah,” her mouth agape, “‘sgonna happen again,” she warns. he maintains his relentless pace, skin slapping against hers. 

“let it go, pretty girl. i got you,” he assures, face scrunching, muscles tightening, trying to keep his own orgasm at bay long enough to pull her through. 

with a primal cry of pleasure, she does exactly what he says and lets go. 

it’s a flood of heat through her body, a release so satiating she thinks she‘ll be addicted for life. her vision goes spotty, ears start ringing, mind becoming numbingly empty for a moment. her fingernails leave marks along carmen’s arm from how hard she grips, using him as her last remaining tether to reality. 

her breathing becomes rapid, body overstimulated with his continual thrusts. it’s almost too much, and then it’s nothing at all, feeling him pull out with a loud groan. feeling warm ropes shoot across her lower back. feeling him gently lower her down onto the wet bed. feeling her legs start to shake as the orgasm begins to subside. 

a few moments go by. she feels a cold wet rag clean off her back. she feels his hand rub over her ass, feeling it be squeezed. she doesn’t move. she can’t move. 

“hey.” 

his voice is so distant, sounding like he’s talking through a tin can. she feels him push her onto her side. she feels him smooth her hair out of her face.

she can’t seem to open her eyes. 

she can’t even seem to breathe without panting.

her entire body feels tingly. 

“hey,” comes again, this time a little closer, “y’okay?” 

she can’t respond. It’s like she forgot how to vocalize. 

carmen gently pats the side of her face. she doesn’t respond, so he does it a little harder. her eyes blink open at the soft smacks. 

her eyes meet his. they’re so blue, hazed with a slight expression of worry. 

“hi,” she whispers once she’s found her words. he’s so handsome, she thinks. his cheeks are flushed. his lips are swollen. 

“hi,” he softly smiles, “y’okay? was that too much?” 

she shakes her head no, a blissed out grin forming on her face. 

“mm. i liked it. a lot,” she tells him earnestly. 

“yeah? earlier you were saying you loved it,” he teases, smoothing her hair back behind her ear. she opens her mouth to respond but shuts it, rolling her eyes. 

there was that attitude again, carmen thinks to himself. 

“your bed is wet,” she complains, rolling onto her back and pushing herself up onto her forearms. 

“who’s fault is that?” he asks, an eyebrow lifting. 

she holds onto his bicep and pulls herself up, sitting on the edge of the bed. he sits next to her. 

“yours,” she responds. 

he scoffs. 

“it is,” she huffs, head resting on his shoulder, “i’ve never done that before. it felt…crazy.” 

the comment makes him feel big headed, a surge of pride and possessiveness that he’s the only one who’s ever made her feel that way. he doesn’t say it, though. just wraps his arm around the girl and kisses her head. 

a quiet settles between them. the yellow of the streetlights through the window gives the room a dreamlike glow. the time on the clock shows that it’s an ungodly hour to be awake. carmen thinks of taking a personal day. 

“wanna take a shower?” she asks softly, leaning up to kiss his neck, hand on his thigh. 

“that-” he exhales as she nips his neck, “sounds really nice,” his own hand coming to cover hers. his were so big comparatively. another moment of quiet. 

“i don’t think i can stand,” she admits, breaking the silence. he lets out a laugh. 

-

the silky sheets wrap around entangled limbs, draping the two lovers in a soft sleepy haze. 

the girl had to offer her own bed up for sleeping arrangements, given that carmen’s bed was completely soaked. 

their legs intertwine, feet rub together, skin smooths against skin as they lay facing each other. 

the cracked window allows an early november chill to sweep through the room. the girl gives a small shiver, and carmy pulls the blanket up over her bare shoulder, wrapping his arm around her back. 

they remain in a comfortable silence, both nearly delirious in the early hour, but too giddy to fall asleep. 

she studies his face in the close proximity, eyes smoothing over the small scar on his cheek, the light freckles that scatter his skin, the alluring curve of his nose. 

it feels almost as intimate as their shared shower, where they had tenderly washed each other’s hair and studied each other’s nudity in the light. he had called her beautiful. she returned the compliment. he held her up in the shower on account of her shaky legs, kissing her lovingly under the stream of the hot water, fingers gripping onto her as if he was scared she’d vanish into thin air. 

all that she was scared of happening had happened. she found herself completely infatuated with the man, the mere thought of him making her stomach flutter.

she tries to push it out of her mind, as she lay studying his face, that she only had a little over a month before she would leave chicago. as much as she tried to push it away, though, it came back. 

she doesn’t realize she’s furrowing her brows until carmen reaches up to touch her forehead, smoothing his thumb over the scrunch. 

she meets his eyes, and immediately feels a soothing sensation. 

his hand slides down the side of her face and cups it, thumb rubbing over her lip. 

“whatcha thinkin’ about?” he asks softly. 

she stays quiet for a moment, not sure how to express herself, chewing on her lip trying to piece together her words. he gently pulls it from between her teeth, his eyes fixed on her face, studying every emotion. 

she takes a deep breath. 

“i really like you, carmy,” her admission comes as a whisper. 

a tear escapes down her cheek, and she feels stupid because of it. 

“hey,” he soothes, thumb swiping away the stray tear, “c’mere.”

he pulls her into an embrace, arms engulfing her smaller frame. he rubs her back, and presses a kiss to the top of her head. 

“this about california?” the man asks after a moment. 

she doesn’t answer, just nuzzles her face into his neck. 

“we still have some time, yeah?” he consoles, “and it won’t be forever. you can come back and visit.” 

he stays positive, partially to reassure himself as well. 

“okay,” she murmurs into his neck, pressing herself closer to him. 

she thinks it might’ve been a mistake to have started something she can’t finish. 

it might’ve been a mistake to even entertain the idea at all. 

but even still, he’s so warm, smells so nice, feels so incredibly safe. 

he runs his fingers through her hair and kisses her temple, holding her tightly. 

it feels so good she thinks it can’t be a mistake. 

right?

next part

[luveline]

Hi Jade!!! I love, love, love your writing. I was wondering if you could write something for Tsam Peter x reader where reader has a concussion and Peter is just generally super sweet about taking care of them? I have a concussion right now and I feel like he would be so sweet about it. If not feel free to ignore this, love you!!! <3

i love u!! fem!reader, 1k

You’re shivering again. Peter looks up from his book suspiciously, squinting at the curve of your where you’re laying on his couch. He should let you rest —you’re allowed to sleep with a concussion, despite what some might think— but he doesn’t like the shivering. It’s weird. 

“I'm coming, baby,” he says, standing up from the armchair to situate himself by your hips. 

Peter pulls the blankets more firmly to your chin. “Are you cold, bub?” he asks. It might appear that he’s talking to you while you’re still sleeping, but the smile you give when he talks proves otherwise. 

“No,” you force out in a mumble. 

“Are you sure?” 

It takes you some time to think about it. Your body’s been thrown for a loop since you hurt yourself, but you’re healing nicely, and your mental stamina is yards better than it had been. Peter asked you yesterday if you wanted a kiss and you couldn’t answer him for a full minute, and when you did it was an uncoordinated lift of your chin. You’re still in there, still his girl, just mildly incapacitated for the time being. 

“I might be,” you decide. 

Peter grabs a throw from under the coffee table and shakes it out over your arms and shoulders. “There. Need a drink?” 

“Do you?” you ask. 

“What?” 

“You’re asking me lots of questions,” you say, slowly, quietly, but not without character. “I thought I’d ask one back.” 

“I don’t need anything.” He tilts his head to align your faces, leaning in, not quite close enough to kiss you. 

“You look very serious right now, Spider-Man.” 

He glares for show. “So serious.” 

“Sorry I can’t really make you a drink.” 

Peter wipes the glare. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I don’t care that you can’t be my serf right now. When you’re better I’m gonna work you twice as hard, that’s all.” 

You raise a tired hand to his jaw. You’re extra careful to offset your wonky hand, stroking a clumsy but tender line from his ear to his chin. “Can you help me up?” 

Peter doesn’t question you. You’ve been recovering for a few days (he hasn’t realised before your injury that some people can take months to get better after a head injury, even without blood clots or fractures) and he’s not felt the urge to baby you beyond waiting on your every whim and want. If you’d like to sit up, that’s okay. The only thing he’d insist on is getting enough sleep at night, and thats something you’ll do happily. 

“Can I give you a hug?” he asks, his eyebrows pinching up at their starts. “I hate seeing you shiver, it makes me sad.” 

“Makes you sad?”

He squeezes your elbow where the blankets have fallen down. “Is that surprising?” 

You want to trade jokes with him but you can’t summon a retort, and your smile quickly fades. It can’t be nice, feeling a shade of yourself. Peter’s heart aches for you twice. 

“C’mere, pretty girl,” he says, slipping his arms under yours, encouraging you to wrap your own behind his head or let them rest behind his shoulders. He loves hugging you like this, almost lifting you, spider strength begging to be used as you sigh and settle into place against him. You feel a little like a shell of yourself, not quite quick with touches, fingertips twitching against his shoulder blade as he nuzzles his face against yours unabashed. “There you are. Where’d you go, huh? I was about to send out the search party.” 

“I’m right here.” 

“Yeah you are. Lucky me, right? Luckiest guy in the world.” 

You sigh happily beside his ear, your face pitching slowly downward until it’s pressing against the curve of his neck, your arms slipping down his front as you run out of energy. He doesn’t mind, bundling you up with no intention of letting you go. 

“How do you feel?” he asks. 

“Still fuzzy, like… it’s like we’re talking to each other through a screen door.” 

“Do you need something? Or want something? I’ll get you anything.” 

“I’m fine.” 

He lets out a sorry sigh. He wishes you’d want something, god knows he’d love to put a smile on your face. If you were feeling better you might ask him to go and get you something for dinner from across the city, or beg him to find you a bunch of flowers (which he’s always willing to buy). But sick, you ask for nothing. You just lay on the couch and wait to get better. Peter doesn’t think it’s super fair. 

“I’m sorry you’re not better yet,” he murmurs, his lips drifting down to your temple, which he kisses weakly, the barest brush of his lips. “Wish I could take it from you.” 

“I’ll be okay soon.” 

“I know you will, but I still wish I could take it. It’s shitty.” 

You think about this for a while. “It’s not shitty,” you work out finally, hand curling against his waist in a tired display of affection. “I have the… best boyfriend ever looking after me.” 

“I’ll be here until you’re better, you know that.” 

“I know.” 

Peter ushers you back and lifts your blankets, slotting himself next to you with a careful arm held behind your back. You show some surprising excitement at the offering of a cuddle and work under his arm, shuffling down the couch to leave you both laying on the same cushion, blankets uneven but warm over your chests. “You should probably go back to sleep,” he says. 

“Nap with me?” you ask, endearingly hopeful. 

He turns his face, intending on drawing lines into your cheek with the tip of his nose until you either fall asleep or can’t take it anymore. “Sure, baby. I bet you’re exhausted, huh? Let’s sleep.” 

He falls asleep before you, breathing snores into your cheek. You have enough wits about you to laugh, and then you fall asleep, too. 

[gor3-hound]

don't hold your breath(nobody's home)

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dead dove, uncle-niece incest, non-con, loss of virginity, very minor blood description, forced alcohol consumption, alcoholism from leon ofc, reader gets slapped, age gap, guilt, one threat, fingering, p in v, non-consensual creampie, crying, idk leon feels entitled cause his brother sucks, reader hinted at having nice tits idk

a/n: sorry if this sucks ass... my motivation for writing has been non-existent w real life stuff n all the drama so... i feel like this is awful but here we are. title from razzmatazz by idkhbtfm... not proofread i'm sorry </3

word count: 1.9k words

Leon knew he had a drinking problem. He just hadn't realised it had gotten this bad. He couldn't even get his dick up with viagra anymore. He frowns as he looks down at the brunette he was planning to fuck, tempted to try and just push it in soft.

He ends up just kicking her out to drown his sorrows. He wasn't dealing with this shit tonight, not when he was seeing his asshole brother tomorrow. Pretty wife, perfect kids. His job pays better than Leon's ever will, and he didn't need to undergo years of trauma. Lucky bastard.

Leon does what he does best that night and drinks enough whiskey so he can pass out without worrying about the nightmares coming to ruin his night. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

He hasn't seen you in a good six years. You were still playing with dolls and shit when he last visited. Makes him feel stupid when he brings you a plushie as a gift. Clearly he forgot how time worked, cause he still expected you to be thirteen. You still hug him and say thank you, sweet as ever. When his brother said he'd be watching the house and looking after you, he didn't expect to see you so... grown. Too old to need a babysitter, really. Even if your parents are gonna be gone for a week.

He gulps as his hands settle on your hips, trying to prevent you from pressing against his hardening cock. Down boy. At least his dick still works. It just took his college-aged niece to get it up. Doesn't help that you've got your tits smooshed against his chest.

Therapy was gonna be a doozy this week.

He could only pray that this doesn't turn into anything. The last thing he needed was his dick being the thing that got him thrown into prison for doing something stupid to you, no matter how cute that body of yours is. That's a new one, he thinks, mentally slapping himself for even thinking about touching you like that. He'd never do it, of course. That's sick, and he knows it. He's just so frustrated. And you're hot. A total babe. Somehow, you managed to get a better rack than your mom. Must be the Kennedy genes coming in. Leon's got tits for days.

He knew he had a drinking problem, but he never thought he'd lose himself this much. He never thought about hurting anyone. He's not a bad guy. It's just that every time he tried to be with someone, he just couldn't get his body to react the way he wanted. That's what the oxytocin was for, he thought, already thinking about taking a swig of whiskey from the flask in his pocket. If only that fucking stuff worked on him. The part of his brain that controlled his cock seemed to be permanently on vacation, and his wires clearly got crossed somewhere if he wants to fuck his own blood.

Whatever. He could get through a week alone with his niece without any trouble. He's faced worse monsters than the ones making themselves present in his mind right now. He'd keep his distance, and all would be okay.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That didn't work. Of course it didn't. You were just as clingy with him as you were when you were a kid, following him around like a lost puppy. He's convinced he's clutching the glass of whiskey in his hand hard enough to shatter it as you curl up against his side. His cock is throbbing, and he seriously hopes you don't notice how the fabric of his jeans is getting a little strained.

You really need to stop with those tits. He's gonna lose it if they brush his arm one more time. He's not sure what it is about you, particularly, that has him acting like a teenage virgin again, but his self-control is wavering by the second. He hasn't paid a single second of attention to the movie he was meant to be watching to keep his mind off of you.

Fuck this.

He takes a swig of whiskey that drains half the liquid in his cup in one gulp. Liquid courage and all that. Maybe he'd drunk a little too much while he was here, ‘cause his brain clearly isn't working right. Not when he's pinning you to the couch, kissing your neck despite your protests.

“Leon… Leon, what're you doing?” You force out, small hands pressing at his chest as if you'd be able to knock him off. Cute. He'd fought creatures six times your size. You didn't stand a chance. 

He starts undressing you, and you start writhing and crying, hitting his chest with clenched fists. He swallows the lump that builds in his throat, wiping the tears that fall down your cheeks.

“Shh… it's okay, I'm… I'm gonna take care ‘f you.” He murmurs, his voice slightly slurred from how much he'd drunk. You cry even harder when he presses a finger into you, making the guilt rise up faster in him. That's not fair. He's being nice. God didn't bless him with much, but at least he gave him a fat cock. You should feel lucky he's prepping you. Not making him feel bad.

“Hey.” He warns, shoving another finger in just to shut you up. You finch when he scissors you open. Poor thing. “That's enough. One more complaint for you, and I'll just force myself in.”

Shit. Now he really does feel like a monster. He's not drunk enough to handle the pure terror on your face at his words. He fumbles on the coffee table with his free hand as he lazily pumps into you with the other. Glass? No. Bottle.

Maybe you need some, too. Get you nice and pliant so you'll take his dick without bitching. Not a bad idea. He twists the cap off with his teeth, gulping some of the liquid down himself. He takes another mouthful before leaning down to kiss you, spitting the liquid into the back of your throat. He keeps your mouth on yours even as you try to jerk away, making sure you swallow it.

You really are adorable as you start coughing and spluttering. Such a sweet thing, you probably hadn't even drunk before. He lifts the bottle to your mouth, pouring some more into your mouth before setting it down, covering your mouth. “Swallow.”

He starts thumbing at your clit as he fingers you, relishing in the ways your whimpers turn into soft moans, your hips bucking against his hand. He manages to coax an orgasm out of you with a few more touches, a big smile spreading across his face.

“There we go, sweetie. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?” He coos, unbuttoning his jeans. The sound of the zipper has your eyes widening in horror, and he tuts softly. “What're you giving me that look for? It's your turn to take care of me now.”

There goes the begging and pleading again. It has his brows pinching together as a frown tugs at his lips. You really are his brother's kid. So goddamn ungrateful. He just took care of you, and now you just want him to… what? Fist his dick in the guest room?

He smacks you so hard your head snaps to the side, your breaths coming out in short gasps. You look better like that, tears stinging your eyes but your body completely limp. He can see the fight draining out of your eyes.

“I was gonna be nice.” He mumbles, brows furrowing as he lines his tip up with your entrance, forcing himself inside in one thrust. He groans loudly, shuddering as your tight heat envelops him. His eyes look down, locked onto your cunt as he fucks into you with long strokes. He freezes when he notices blood. He's not sure if he's happy or disgusted that he's your first. No wonder you put up such a fight.

You keep weakly begging him to stop, but your pussy is gushing all over him. It's not his fault he can't stop – you're giving him the hottest look he's ever seen, and your puffy cunt is so fucking greedy for his cock, sucking him back in everytime he starts to pull out.

“S-sorry… I'm so sorry…” He grunts, picking up the pace of his thrusts, groaning at the sound of your punched out moans as he drives into you with as much force as he can muster. You almost sound like you're enjoying it, but you're still fucking crying and he can't take it. His heart hurts.

“Baby, please…” He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see the betrayal on your face. His arms tremble as he holds himself up, sloppily fucking into you. “I'm sorry… just stop cryin’, please…”

Every time his hips smack the fat of your ass, you're moaning out a ‘please’. With his eyes shut, he can pretend you're begging for more. That you like this. That is, until you start saying ‘stop’. He winces, but the movement of his hips doesn't falter.

“Fuck, baby… please stop begging.” He pleads, throwing his head back as his tip kisses your cervix. He whimpers as it makes you tighten around him, angling his thrusts to hit that spot each time he fully sheaths himself inside of you.

“I-I can't stop…you feel so… fuck. So fucking good. M'so close.” He groans. He can't even find the strength to pull out anymore. He buries himself balls deep in your cunt, grinding himself into your tight heat.

“L-Leon… please.” You say weakly, chest heaving with heavy breaths as panic sets in, your hands pushing at his chest. “Y-you gotta pull out, you can't… you can't.”

“What?” He breathes out, cracking his eyes open to look at you again. He looks genuinely confused. Why would he ever pull out when you felt so good? He can't bring himself to. “Baby, no. I'm cumming inside of you. Can't pull out now.”

That seems to bring your fight back. You start struggling under him again, punching him with all your strength. Luckily, that's not a lot. Especially when you're sluggish from your first time drinking and getting fucked. It's Leon's lucky day.

“Shit, baby. Don't look at me like that.” Or do. He's gonna cum if you keep staring up at him with that wide-eyed expression. “No need to be so scared, princess. I just… shit. Can't help myself.”

Doesn't take longer than a minute after that for him to finish. He buries his face in your neck, whining as he cums. His cock kicks inside of you, the warmth of his release filling every inch of you. You start sobbing all over again, slumping weakly against the couch.

He lies on top of you, his weight pressing you down into the couch. He pets your hair like you're a doll, his fingers carding through your hair.

“I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me. I'll be so good. Do whatever you want. Didn't mean it.” He murmurs, kissing your cheek over and over as if he's trying to get you to relax. He keeps it up until you fall asleep, wrapping you up in his arms.

When you wake up in the morning, you're fully dressed in your bed. You almost think it's a dream until you feel the dull throbbing between your legs.

[coco-loco-nut]

Blue Birthday

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: charles accidentally missed your birthday

a/n: thanks for the request 🫶 i hope you like it! my requests will be fully open again soon

masterlist

———————

You met Charles through your Uncle Ayrton’s foundation. You were at an event with your Aunt Viviane before the Brazilian GP and Charles was a volunteer.

Everything was so easy with him, he made every effort to make sure you knew how much he loves and appreciates you. Charles didn’t even force you to move to Monaco, but as soon as you told him you were moving there for the foundation, he cleared space for you.

You never celebrated things for yourself, but Charles made sure that you knew how special you were to him, so maybe that’s why the situation you found yourself in hurt so much.

“Mon amour, I have to go to Maranello for a few days. Ferrari emergency, will you be okay?” Charles asks, and you can’t say no to him. The look he gives you tells you that he genuinely wouldn’t go if you objected.

“I’ll be okay Charles,” you tell him, following him to the bedroom to help him pack up. “Drive safe, môr,” you kiss him before he leaves. Charles didn’t tell you how long he would be gone, so there was a small bit of hope in you that he would be back home for your birthday.

The few days passed until it was the night before your birthday. You spent the day working at the foundation, eagerly awaiting Charles’s return that evening.

“I’m sorry, I have to stay a couple more days. I miss you,” Charles says over the phone as you make dinner.

“It’s okay, I know you tried,” you can’t help but to hide your disappointment for the rest of the phone call. Yet again, you crawl into an empty bed. When midnight strikes you can’t fall asleep, but that doesn’t matter much when your phone rings.

“Happy birthday! We’re sorry we couldn’t fly over from Brazil,” your father says on the video call. Your smile hides the sting.

“Thank you, Papi. It is just another day,” the words feel fake. You used to believe that, but the man who isn’t here changed your view.

“Nonsense. It is your day. I am giving you the day off, treat yourself to a spa day and a nice lunch,” your aunt tells you.

“Thank you, I won’t do any work, promise,” you yawn, wiped from the day.

You wake up late, immediately checking your phone for a message from Charles. Unfortunately for you, it feels like everyone but Charles messaged you. Hell, even Carlos texted you. Maybe he is just waiting to call you later.

The spa is wonderful, and takes up most of your afternoon. Despite the air of relaxation, you can help but to check you phone for a message from Charles, even a silly instagram reel would suffice.

Heidi invites you to a birthday dinner with Carmen, Kelly, and Lily.

“How has your birthday been so far? I just know Charles gave you the most thoughtful gift,” Heidi says as you sip on wine. You mask your grimace with a smile.

“It has been very lovely. I was able to sleep in late then I enjoyed a long afternoon at the spa. Very relaxing,” you tell them, leaving Charles out of it. The dinner is long, and you do enjoy it, but as time goes on, your heart hurts more.

Heidi pulls you to the side before you get to your car, well, Charles’s car.

“Charles forgot, didn’t he?” She asks, not giving you time to respond. “Listen, the teams have a way of occupying our guys so much that they don’t realize what day it is when they get called in. It isn’t an excuse, but keep that in mind,”

“Thanks, I needed to hear that. And thank you again for organizing the dinner,” you pull Heidi into a hug.

During the drive home, you can feel tears pricking in your eyes. When you get home all that awaits you is a text from Charles saying that he is stuck in meetings and to not wait up for him, that he will call in the morning.

You lay in bed, finally letting the tears fall. You are mad at Charles, Ferrari, the world. There is nothing you wish for more in this moment to be back home in Brazil. You don’t answer your father’s phone call, knowing he will ask how your birthday was, and you cannot lie to him. Instead, you fall asleep, still in the dress you wore to dinner, wondering if you would ever really be the number one priority to Charles.

meanwhile in Maranello…

Charles and Carlos leave the meeting, nearing Midnight. Carlos drives them to the nearby apartment they are staying in for the duration of time Ferrari needs them.

“How was Y/n’s birthday today? Did she enjoy your gift,” Carlos asks, thinking to the many thoughtful gifts he’s received from Charles.

“Fuck. That was today?” Charles panics, looking at his phone calendar.

“Charles, you didn’t?” Carlos feels his heart drop for his teammate.

“I did. I got so caught up here. I need to call her,” Charles immediately calls you, but you don’t pick up. “She didn’t answer, she’s probably asleep,” Charles can feel the tears in his eyes. He feels awful.

“I’ll call Fred, you start packing. Drive back tonight,” Carlos tells him as he parks the car. Both waste no time. Charles is packed to leave within five minutes, and Carlos left no room for negotiation.

Charles drives all night, making it back to the Monaco apartment just after 4:30 in the morning.

He walks into your bedroom quietly, not wanting to disturb your sleep. His heart breaks at the sight of you clutching his pillow, still in the dress from the night before. Charles is quick to carefully strip the dress off of you, and put his t-shirt on you. After getting you under the covers, he slides in beside you, holding you close. Even if you are upset with him, he is even more upset with himself.

When your alarm goes off in the morning, you feel the familiar warmth beside you and your heart melts a little. Charles groans, wiping his eyes as you quickly turn off the alarm. You realize what him being here means, he drove all night.

“Charles, go back to sleep,” you whisper, carefully getting out of bed.

“But I missed your birthday,” he groggily says, fighting the sleep that is trying to pull him under.

“I know, we will talk about it when I get back from work, okay? Get some sleep, you must’ve driven all night,” you tell him gently, silently getting ready for the day.

When Charles wakes up, he spends the day cleaning, restocking the fridge, and picking up the gifts he bought you months ago. He even makes your favorite dinner and his mom’s tiramisu. Carlos called while he was cooking to ask how things were going and to wish Charles luck.

“Charles? You didn’t need to do all this,” you tell him when you get home, the delicious smells from the kitchen leading you to him.

“I did, mon amour. I feel awful,” Charles wraps his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I know, and Ferrari isn’t an excuse for what you did, but maybe you can make it up to me,” you offer a small smile.

“I have a whole night planned. Let me make it up to you,” Charles takes off your jacket for you, instructing you to sit at the dinner table. Your face lights up at the meal sitting in front of you, the candles burning, a perfect dinner date.

“Môr, you didn’t have to do all this,” you tell him when he sits beside you, serving you before you have the chance to do so for yourself.

“I was going to cook for you regardless. I will always treat you like the queen you are,” Charles smiles. You make small talk over the meal, avoiding the elephant in the room. You want to stay mad at him, but you can’t. You love him so much, and he’s made so much effort into making it up to you. Honestly, you forgave him as soon as you woke up and saw him, but you might as well milk it.

“Okay, I have a few gifts for you, but come into the bedroom first,” he tells you when you finish the dessert together. You follow him to your room where new matching silk pajamas wait on your bed, fuzzy blankets, and some snacks.

“Cuddles and a movie?” you ask with a small smile.

“Of course. While you change, I’ll go get your gifts,” Charles says, stepping out of the room. He returns a couple moments later with three boxes. You carefully open them in the order he gives them to you. The first is a white hoodie with his racing number and your uncle’s racing number stitched on the left arm, subtle but thoughtful.

“I thought that you might want something cozy for race days, especially the colder ones. There is one in red and one in black in the closet,” Charles smiles as you hold the softest hoodie known to man.

“Thanks, môr, I love it,” you smile, setting it to the side. You open the second box, it is a signed photo of your uncle and parents together, it must’ve been right before he crashed. You look a Charles a little teary-eyed.

“Ah, I should’ve saved that for last. There is someone who collects a lot of memorabilia and I reached out to see if he was willing to sell anything of your Uncle’s. When I told him it was for you, he gave it for free. Said you deserved it. Truthfully, I was going to give it to your dad for Christmas, but I thought you’d want a piece of your family here,” Charles rubs his neck shyly. You let the tears fall down your cheek as you look at the trio.

“Thank you,” you choke back a sob, flinging your arms around Charles as he holds you tightly.

“One last present,” Charles smiles, handing you a small box once you’ve composed yourself. There is a set of keys and you look confused at him. “Those aren’t your keys, it’s more symbolic. Your Ferrari Roma will be delivered next week,” he tells you, worried you are about to freak out.

“You bought me a car?”

“Well, even though I’m fine with you taking the keys to my cars, I know you don’t always feel comfortable doing so. So, I got you a car,” Charles smiles, watching you process it.

“Wow, thank you. I’ll, um, put these away. Put your pajamas on so we can watch a movie,” you carefully pick up the hoodie and picture. Charles doesn’t hesitate to put on the comfy pajamas and get in bed with you. He puts on your favorite movie and holds you close.

“I really am so sorry I missed your birthday,” Charles says as your head rests against his chest.

“I know. I’m happy you are here now though. Thank you for coming home last night and making it up to me. I love you,” you turn your head so you can look at him.

“There is nowhere else I’d rather be. I love you too,” he kisses you sweetly, happy he didn’t ruin everything.

[haerni]

OH MY GOD, “who is he? ”

summary: feels like you’re fallin’ deeper & maybe you’re going crazy, right? does he want you or not? he’s so confusing!

ft. park sunghoon (based on ‘OMG’ by newjeans!)

content: fem! reader, tooth-rotting fluff, a lil bit of hurt comfort, sunghoon is that confusing guy, mutual pining, reader is a bit embarrassing i think? sunoo your support system! 1.8k words

— very very minimal proofread and editing bc ive only done this in one sitting (help me).

( 🍃 ) notes: this took me so long omfgsbks but here we are with my very first content on this blog, please be nice TT sunghoon might be ooc saur.. theres that! can u tell i love sunoo, i have to sneak him in. maybe the story will jump for awhile so sorry for that also.

you've probably liked PARK SUNGHOON for almost half of your life.

ever since he sat with you at the swing from the park you used to go to when you were kids and offering his own comfort when you were crying on that day, to this day forward when he offers his shoulder for you to cry on.

he never questions the reasons behind your cries, he never pushes and all he does is sit there and offer you whispers of solace that you take to heart.

because your best friend wouldn't want the worst for you.

because all he does is care for you.

and maybe—just maybe—you hate him a little for it, for doing things that make your heart flutter, for simply just touching your hair and pulling you closer hoping that it will quell the sadness that consumes you. or when he would walk with you home after his practice despite being tired and run down to the bones, he would never miss a day. or when he would call you such sweet things like you are together when you aren't.

or when one time he heard through jay how someone was making passes on you and disgusting comments about you, he comes home with a bruised lip and wounded knuckles. he refused to let you see him, not until you forced your way to his room with the first aid kit his mother let you borrow, because he also wouldn't let her treat him.

or when you can't even pretend to be okay in the sea of bodies in a party and he notices right away. he drags you by your hand and drags you out of the party without a care for anyone. he only tells you that he hates the party and would rather eat out in a convenience store nearby.

he holds your hand tightly, you knew that night you loved park sunghoon more than you could ever imagine.

a decade into your friendship, you fell in love with your best friend, park sunghoon.

you did your best to hide it, to keep these emotions at bay and lock away into the very bottom of your heart. you swallow the bubbling feeling in your throat whenever he's close. you did your very best to preserve the relationship the both of you built together. even if all you wanted was just ruin it and become something more.

loving park sunghoon was easy, it was easy as the breeze that touched your hair, it was easy as falling into a routine of living and looking forward to days when he's with you. the prospect of loving sunghoon comes naturally and you don't know how to stop it. it just grows more everyday and suddenly you find yourself in garden of flowers blossoming in your heart, so much that's its starting to flow out little by little and you're slipping, you're heart is becoming unguarded, the walls you've spent all your life building is chipping away slowly.

it's becoming suffocating, it's hard to breathe around him.

the passing touches, the stolen glances and brief silence has been occurring more and more.

it's only a matter of time, before someone catches on. unfortunately, that time is right now.

"what's with you and sunghoon, lately?" your friend, sunoo asks, "did you guys have a fight?"

a second passes before you answer him, "we did not. why do you ask?"

sunoo sits closer to you and puts his face on his palm, "you have been avoiding him."

you stopped, "no, i'm not."

"it's lunch and you're sitting here with me in the library, working on an assignment that's not due until next week, when you usually never miss eating when he comes by our room to eat with you." he pointed out.

too specific. were you that predictable? and when you don't answer sunoo realizes something. when his eyes widen too much for your comfort that's when you interject from whatever train of thought he had.

"or maybe—"

"i don't know what you are talking about, sunoo."

"you're avoiding him.."

"i already told you, i'm not—!"

"sure, keep telling yourself that." sunoo snorts at that, "i know you like him and not how a best friend should."

you can't breathe again, you were absolutely done for. because sunoo was right, he got the answer right and you couldn't find it in yourself to quip back at him. you can't find it in yourself to deny and brush it off, because it's simply not real, it's not what your heart is telling you. maybe, that was your last straw.

maybe that was all it needed for you to let out your heart just for once and face the reality.

you don't want sunghoon as a best friend.

the realization hits harder when someone utters it out, because you have lived all your life hiding and suddenly, it pours out like rain after a long unending drought.

now here you are. in the porch of your house under the moonlight with you encased in sunghoon's arms, because you were stupid enough to go out and try to forget about him, to go see other people and hope that you can lose all these feelings you have for him. it didn't, maybe it never will. a boy, somehow he's the same height and stature as sunghoon it was enough for you to agree for a dinner out.

it was stupid to begin with. you didn't even know this guy's name (you can't even bother to remember). because while you sat there and tried to engage with him, your mind drifted far on how he does not have the same moles as sunghoon, he does not make you laugh like sunghoon does, maybe he would've took you out to that ramen place you always go to after a long day instead of this fancy restaurant that you don't even know. quite sure enough that guy only talked about himself, you didn't listen.

"so are we going?" he gives you an all-knowing smile and as you try to turn him down a voice comes in.

"she's not going with you." you look behind, and there he stands one hand in his pocket wearing a white button-up shirt that you haven't seen before, a cold gaze accompanying it and his hair done all too perfectly—like he was on a date.

"hey! who do you think you are?" sunghoon ignores him as he offers his hand to you. tilting his head in question. you did not hesitate to grab it. it's almost a curse for him to know when you need him the most.

you can feel the heat rising up in your body as he intertwines both of your hands and gives it a squeeze.

he brings you home, like how he promised your dad when you were sixteen.

you bite your lips in hopes of suppressing all the emotions running down on you. but you can't really do that in front of sunghoon, can you?

you broke down.

and sunghoon was there—it was enough. it was enough for everything to pour out.

"i'm tired, hoon." his arms tighten around you, burying his face to your hair, almost as if he's kissing it in comfort.

you're tired? is it because of that guy? should he beat him up? you wouldn't like it anyway, so he erase the thought. park sunghoon has never hated anyone more than that jerk right now. he curses that stupid guy who made you like this.

"i hate you park sunghoon."

"you don't mean that."

you don't.

"i really really hate you." you were probably the worst to utter such words to him. to your best friend, to sunghoon out of all people. but you can't stop. "you're so stupid, stupid."

it takes him back, he didn't expect for you to be mad at him. he's silent for a moment as he continues to hold you like you're going to disappear.

"how am i stupid, baby?" there he goes again with those stupid nicknames.

you refuse to look at him, burying your face to his nape. and when you don't answer he talks for you.

"do you hate me that much for you not to look at me?" you really hate park sunghoon.

he sighs at the lack of your response. he shakes his head before he turns his face closer to your ear, "what am i gonna do, baby? you hate me, but i like you so much."

what? what the fuck?

that makes you widen your eyes processing what he just said as you sit up straight and facing him. and it makes him laugh a little, he probably shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. not when you're this adorably looking at him like you can't believe it.

"don't joke about things like that park sunghoon!"

wow, using his government name? "you don't believe me?" you don't answer. "why do you think i came to that awful restaurant wearing this shirt?" you knew it was new, you've never seen him wear it.

"because you want to fit it?" you answer.

"that too," he laughs, "and because you didn't eat lunch with me, you didn't walk home with me. i heard from sunoo, that you were out with someone and you didn't dress up because of me. you were on a date and it wasn't me. you were avoiding me, baby."

he looks at you and it hurts because both of you are a fucking idiot. all this time, sunghoon liked you.

park sunghoon likes you.

"how long?" and you can't help it, you have to know.

he thinks for a second, "hm.. since when you were on that swing? i thought you were pretty." he smiles so easily.

oh my god.

you buried your face once more, not really knowing what to do, because for the longest time you thought you were the only one feeling this way.

but sunghoon understands, he continues to talk, "jay thinks i'm obsessed with you. he's not wrong, you know? you don't have to say anything right now, i know you're having a har—"

you kissed him. park sunghoon is really an idiot. how can you not like him? how can anyone not even like him? he's so stupid. sunghoon's eyes widen a bit, but melts into your touch as quickly.

god, was this really happening? please don't ever wake him up if this is a dream.

you pulled away for a breather and he reached for another one causing you to block his lips with your hand.

feeling the blood in your cheeks, flustered as sunghoon kisses your palm instead. his hand coming up to yours to remove it.

"can i kiss you again?" you were going to die, "please?" you're sure of it.

"no!"

sunghoon laughs at that. you can't feel it, but his cheeks are really hurting now from smiling. maybe one day you'll let him kiss you more, but for now this is enough.

he has loved you almost all of his life.

𖹭 likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! i hope he is not too out of character :')

[skelliko]

Hi Skelle! ☆ How r you? I hope you have a nice day/night! 🫶🏼 I want to request something.. my request is can you make like a full (not a mandatory) headcanons of how the guys will act if they have a crush on someone? Like how they behaviour will change, how they first meet the reader immediately think “yep, she’s the one”, where, and overall how sappy they can get when they have a crush 🥹 i would like them with baji, kazutora, chifuyu and haitani brothers.

Feel free to ignore this if you feel this is too much cause I don’t wanna stress your cute 🧠💐🎀🩷 brain 🧠💐🎀🩷

Lmao

a/n: hope this is okay, sorry for the wait. i didn't intend to make these all be in a school setting, I had tried to do some in a workplace but It's all I could think off without making it basic 😕

★-Tokyo revengers

๑-context: first interaction + how they act/feel with a crush

๑-featuring: Baji, kazutora, chifuyu, ran, rindou

°- kazutora hanemiya

-- kazutora was forced to stay behind the classroom to finish his work that he hasn't done, the teacher was sat in front of her desk doing whatever a teacher does there while everyone else but him exit out the room. however when you were on your way out you slickly slid a small, folded up piece of paper on the side of kazutora's desk which certainly didn't go unnoticed by him.

-- his eyes went right at you and watched as you walked away almost expecting you to look back at him but you didn't. to then occasionally glance at the teacher to make sure that she doesn't look up as his hand slides towards the note to carefully and quietly open it up. anything could have been written on the note but since he was so focused to not get caught his mind was blank and didn't assume anything right away.

-- the piece of paper held all the answers to the worksheet that he was supposed to complete. to avoid any suspicions from the teacher he immediately placed it flat on the desk underneath his palm to collect himself and not get too ahead of himself, I mean what if the answers are incorrect and your setting him up for longer detention? eventually he risked it and wrote down all the answers that you had given him and handed in his work. and sure enough you become a life saver there, he was able to get out of there quicker than he first anticipated.

-- eventually he came up to you "hey, thanks for the... you know. but why'd you give me 3 incorrect answers? thought you were supposed to be smart" he said it in a almost teasing way, not upset at all about the incorrect answers. but you replied with "because no one would believe you to get them all correct without being forced to do them again" and that right there is the moment that he realised what kind of smart and mischievous person you are, enough that you've captivated his thoughts for the rest of the day and onwards.

• normally he'd get pissed off when forced to stay behind in class, but now, his mind is flooded with you that he's getting stayed back more and more just so that your hand can brush over his desk and give a semi warm piece of paper that you've held safely in your palm on the way to his desk to get him out of a situation that he put himself in, it almost feels like holding your hand. are you aware of what he's doing? probably, but that won't stop him. he also keeps all the pieces of paper even tho they serve no purpose, but knowing that you were the one that gave it to him changes the perspective of those little scraps.

• he has a major urge to be around you, he's craving your presence and voice and he always feels some sort of ache is in body from just thinking about seeing you once the weekend has passed. also the same thing goes for craving your physical touch such as a tight hug or maybe even a scalp massage but he knows that won't happen any time soon but the crave is still there, it's like a maladaptive daydream.

• he also looks at you different compared to others, with you it seems like kazu is looking at an angle with gorgeous white wings and a stunning outfit, whereas with others it seems like their just ants. big difference there.

-- sure you've been in his class for a while but that was the first time you've actually interacted with each other, other than a quick eye contact from looking around the room. there's always that one classmate that you haven't talked to but once you do it changes so much more than you first intended.

• he feels his emotions to a certain extreme level and cause of this he tries to hide it as much as he can otherwise he grows too expressive without realising it. and that can easily make his feelings seem obvious if not tamed correctly. he tries to act casual despite his stomach is turned into a butterfly sanctuary, his palms are grown sweaty, and his breath is held in to get rid of the feeling of jumping about and smiling like a complete idiot. mentally hes turned into a little kid with red cheeks just because his crush smiled at him, someone give the kid an ice pop otherwise he'll overheat. no seriously he's burning up like a fever just being near you.

°- Keisuke baji

-- Baji was getting into some sort of escalating argument after school had ended, him and two guys were getting a little rowdy but because of Baji being in his nerdy disguise at the time he couldn't risk in making a scene

-- but then that's when you butt in and stand by Baji's side. it was certainly a shock to suddenly see you appear beside him and hear you verbalise your opinion and defend him like that against these two delinquents even though he could have easily defended himself despite the circumstances, he could have walked away and led them somewhere else but no, you brought yourself into the bickering before he could act on it

-- Baji was gonna speak up to cut you off and try and get you away from the slight hazardous situation but you certainly had a lot to say and that just caused him to keep quiet. were you not scared? if you weren't for yourself then he was surely scared for you. he wasn't mad at you for getting involved, instead he somewhat gained respect for you and he had to hold back in smiling.

-- though he obviously couldn't let the situation keep going so he had to quickly drop the whole argument by speaking over you and basically drag you away by your sleeve gently. his feelings didn't grow immediately right there and then but they did develop quickly over a short period of time.

• thinking of you? his cheeks are sore and he brings a hand up to his mouth to suppress it and as if to hide it even though there's no one around to hide his smile from. he doesn't know why he does that but he just does.

• if someone were to be told that baji giggles when you message him they wouldn't believe it, that whole image for them is nonexistent when it comes to Baji, wouldn't even consider it. but this man really does, he tries to stifle them and keep a calm exposure however when he's laying down on his bed he has a wide smile plastered stupidly on his face and when he feels an excited, giddy feeling he can't help but feel a small laugh escape. when he tries to hold them back it almost feels like his chest is being tightened. your suffocation him without even being there, imagine a potential news title 'baji Keisuke suffocated due to feeling giddy about a crush'

• not much of an artist, can only actually draw simple outlines of certain objects such as pain flowers or stick men, but that doesn't stop him from picking up a pen or pencil and start to doodle, nor does it stop him to have your features flash in his mind and him draw you as a stick figure or even a wobbly blob. he sometimes zones out in class when doodling and when he catches himself in drawing you he quickly scribbles it out before anyone or you sees.

°- chifuyu matsuno

-- its raining outside on a school day and you don't have an umbrella nor a hood to cover yourself so due to that you chose to stay behind in your empty classroom to wait out the rain just so you don't get soaked. you chose to stay behind and do something captivating that it even caused you to lose track of time, luckily Chifuyu walked past your classroom and saw you there, it's at least a few hours past school hours (don't ask what he's still doing here)

-- he curiously came up to you and mentioned it however even after those few hours the rain hadn't left and it was still pouring the same weight as it had at the start, and due to the sudden passed time you had no choice to head home even if it means getting drenched. but upon chifuyu hearing your reasoning, there was no way he was gonna leave you walking out in the cold rain while he had a perfectly good umbrella, even if he wanted to leave he just couldn't bring himself to.

-- so he did the first thing that came to mind and that was to try and offer his umbrella to you. at first it seemed convenient for you but then the thought of him going out in the rain with nothing bothered you, so obviously you declined. bit of "no it's fine" here and there but after some of those you both came to an agreement to share it.

-- halfway through with you both walking underneath the same umbrella and chatting away to avoid the awkward silence he walked you home without you realising, he had to turn a corner ages ago but willingly chose to stay with you since you both were having an interesting conversation. and sure enough, thump-thump-thump his heart is racing, ever since then you've been on his mind.

• he feels so much about you, butterflies in his stomach and the need to move around because if hes sat still he'd probably snap in half from the excitement that he can't handle when the thought of you appears. he can explode from the overjoy of interacting with you as if it's a rare thing to happen even though it really isn't, you're just that special. he definitely jumps around and about in his room and punches the air silently whilst trying not to cause too much noise. making a whole new cardio work out.

• whenever he's reading his manga and romance comes in he can't help but picture the two characters to be you and chifuyu. he flicks his eyes between the two characters repeatedly even if he's been on the same page for 5mins, he'd still play out the scenario of them being you two. I mean that whole first encounter almost seemed too cliché to not have come straight out of a movie with unrealistic standards. but no, it all really did happened which causes his mind to go in places that you two are almost casted together and made to talk, as if the universe is setting you both up.

• passing your classroom at any chance he gets just to try and get a glimpse at you but while doing so his heart paces like hes just ran a marathon, he hasn't even seen you yet but the anticipation is killing him. and even when it rains on school days again hes not heading straight home but instead he's making his way to your class to see if you're there again waiting for the rain to leave, always hopeful and wishing that you're empty handed without an umbrella or a hood.

°- ran haitani

-- your in an empty room scribbling something in a sketchbook, using both hard and light pencil strokes. doesn't bother ran at all that you're here doing your own little thing but what actually does is that you're sat in his usual seat. normally he wouldn't try to intervene, especially if it's something this petty plus he wasn't all that desperate to stay here for long but even then, he still walked up to you.

-- first instinct that you had when hearing his footsteps was to close your sketchbook shut before looking up, clearly you don't want no one seeing your personal work/drawings. this little thing perked ran's interest, he doesn't know much about art in the form of paper and pencil, but he's still intrigued as to why you chose to hide it that it made him forget about his petty emotion of you sitting in his seat.

-- in short term, he ended up seeing a few of your pages and the reason for it is cause you despise your own work, despite continuing drawing in your own time you seem to always criticise yourself and think harshly on them. but in his eyes he can't help but be in awe of them, he cant understand what's so bad about the drawings. next thing you know he's asking for a drawing of himself, you didn't seem too bothered by the idea as you were about your skill wondering if you could even pull it off but ran managed to convince you.

-- sitting in a chair in front of you as a muse, meeting eye contact as you looked at his features repeatedly to get the right shape of his eyes, nose and lips. him purposely moving a little to see if you'd say something about it and trying to peek over your sketchbook book to see your progress only for you to move it away out of embarrassment. it took a short while but finally seeing himself on a page in dark grey lead made him feel something, not necessarily a major attraction but appreciation even tho he's the one that pressed on the idea.

-- and that's when the butterflies hit, it's a major delayed reaction but the giddy feeling hit after being the muse and grasping the fact that you were able to draw him this well from you analysing his features, something about this made him more seen than he already is. maybe a confidence boost? who knows, even he himself can't figure it out exactly other than feeling warm from the inside out about you.

• no matter how hard he tries to relax around you he always feels blood rushing in his body making him become tense whenever you two have an interaction as small as just saying hi to each other, and once you both pass he sighs out air as if you've caught his breath and didn't let go, though he also ends up smiling after that sigh but it's more or less a mix of a nervous and happy smile, one that makes you to be unsure if you're supposed to be excited or scared.

• i reckon hes a yapper once he gets comfortable enough, anything that comes to mind he can talk and talk about it with you like his life depends on it, but once he's finished speaking he only then realises the things he's said and regrets it all even if the topics he's talked about aren't all that bad but he still gets embarrassed of himself for letting himself get carried away like that to the point where afterwards he speaks in a much shallower tone "...I don't know why I said that, ignore that" it's kinda cute tho.

• you got him twisting and turning, losing focus in certain activities and even his sight of where he's going. at some point he was walking but his eye view was so focused on you that he ended up walking into the metal, water foundation and he had to embarrassingly play it off hoping that no one had seen the doofus walk right into it as his head was turned 80° in your direction.

°- rindou haitani

-- you and him happen to share the same taste in music and favour the same band/Artist, he knew this by overhearing a conversation you had with someone and that made him perk up a little but not enough for him to engage in the conversation. he'd silently listen in to hear what your favourite song is and guess if your a hardcore fan or just a regular

-- despite rindou not being the one to come forward about the mutual interest that you both have, it was you that needed up going up to him after hearing his music escape though his earphones from how loud he set the volume to be. sure he was a little embarrassed after you mentioned it but once you both started talking about the band, something had opened him up as you talked about it with enthusiasm while he was agreeing with everything that you were saying and adding his own little comments, you were both constantly on the same page.

-- hes gained a small interest in you but not enough to catch feelings and be attached, there's plenty of people with the same interest as him and even though he can't find many it doesn't mean that you should be on top of the list. yet.

-- those previous, tamed feelings were immediately thrown out the window after hearing you sing his favourite song when you thought you were alone, he didn't mean to intrude but when he quietly walked in a room to get something he ended up hearing your voice singing along to a favoured song, you immediately became his favourite cover. your tune and enthusiasm had him captivated and stuck. he didn't get the item but instead but he stood outside of the door listening until you stopped.

• when you suddenly appear and make yourself known he gets a little spooked and drops whatever he was holding in his hands (mainly depends on what the item is, as in if it's not fragile and just a pen) its the type of scare that makes his mind go 'oh shit they're here, act cool, act cool' you can just walk into the room and when Rindou looks up to see you its like his whole body does a nervous shut down for a split second. he's normally not like that at all so when that became a common occurrence he swore he was starting to become insane.

• only you're allowed to touch his glasses or gloves or in fact anything that belongs to rindou. sure his brother is an exception but that's to be expected. if anyone else tried to touch his stuff he'd more than just swat their hand away like an annoying pest, but with you? he feels warm and giddy about you picking his glasses up and trying them on yourself, heat rushes up to his face but he always tries to act cool and casual. he just can't shake the thought that you've worn his glasses that he's wearing right now, it almost feels like getting a high five from your favourite celebrity.

• anyone would probably assume Rindou to be a little heartless from him occasionally being nonchalant around others and sure that's true enough but with you? he's flustered, cannot specify enough of it, poor man can't even go a day without his lungs constantly shifting in volume from the way you get him so nervous. he's even grown to stutter a little, not a whole lot but enough for it to be noticed once in a while and each time he looks back on the sentences he's said he always cringes at himself.

 ♡----

[reiderwriter]

You'd Be Like Heaven To Touch♣️

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Female Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: After a whirlwind weekend, you're finally ready to go home and deal with the mess you created in Vegas. But you just cannot get your new Husband out of your head.

Warnings: Oral sex (F receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, no mention of birth control, and you're going to hate me by the end of this sex scene bye

A/N: They're officially out of Vegas! I'm so excited to share the next few parts with you guys, and we finally got our first taste of smut!! Also, the Reid in the gif is the exact one I'm picturing in this scene so yeah 🤡 smirk and all 😏

Here's the series masterlist, and my general masterlist!~

Prev. Chapter // Next Chapter

The race back to the hotel was easy compared to the ensuing rush to pack up an entire hotel room's worth of mess in the time between their arrival and their check-out time. Sure, they’d had to pack light as travelling FBI agents, but with the added mess you’d created in Spencer’s room, and the additional luggage of their marriage licence, the packing was needlessly more frantic than usual. 

When you finally did make it down to the lobby, you froze up a little, realising that you were the final one to exit your room. You watched as seven pairs of eyes shifted to you as soon as the elevator door opened, hauling your go-bag further up your arm from where it was slipping down. You thanked your past self for having the foresight to put some makeup into the bag, having used up a copious amount of your concealer to cover up any evidence of your night with Reid. You still kept a small distance from the others, just in case.

“Sorry, were you all waiting for me?” you smiled at them as you got closer, hoping that they’d not ask questions at what had taken you so long. Your eyes caught Reid’s and you could see that he was looking down at your neck. 

After an entire day morning and night in your company, you knew he’d seen the results of his handiwork. You wondered if the look that raked over you now was that of the dominant Reid from the night before, who you presumed marked you in such prominent places so people would know you were his, or that of the concerned team mate, who didn’t want to be caught and questioned by the others. You tried to shake both images from your head, not sure which would please you more. 

“It’s okay, you’re not late, the cars are being bought around now and the jet leaves in 30,” Hotch greeted you when you finally got close enough. 

“Late night, mama?” Morgan laughed at you as soon as he turned to you. “How did all that drinking last night go for you?” 

You were so wrapped up in Reid and what he may or may not be thinking that you had to pull yourself back to reality for a second to realise that Morgan had been talking to you. 

“What? Oh yeah, I guess. I don’t think I drank too much, but I did sleep like a baby, so who knows.” You laughed a little to punctuate the point, and then watched Morgan’s reaction closely. You were still looking for the two “agents” who had been witness to your marriage, after all. 

“Ooh, you didn’t sample the local goods last night then? I’ve heard that Downtown Las Vegas is the best place to meet single men, and you were just complaining that you hadn’t been out in a while,” Penelope said from beside the man. 

“No, no, the place Reid took me to was more library than bar, and as far from Downtown as you could get, so it was a nice and easy night for me.” 

“And if the local men are anything like our resident Las Vegan,” Emily jumped in, looking at Reid. “Then I’m sure they’re not really what Y/N is looking for.” She laughed and they all start making their way out of the lobby. 

You try to avoid meeting Reid’s eyes after that last comment, sure that you wouldn’t be able to stop the grimace of apology from coming to your lips. But you couldn’t help yourself, and you forced your eyes up into a small peak at his face, only to see his downturned eyes and the small smirk that was crossing his lips. 

You hung back for a second, needing to clue this out, and nudged him with your elbow. 

“What’s that look for?” you whisper at him in a harsh tone, hoping that no one was watching the two of you. 

“It’s nothing.” He says, but the smile stays on his lips. You give him another look, silently communicating that you’re not taking that first answer and he nods a little as he walks beside you. 

“If they could see the marks on your neck, they wouldn’t be thinking that I’m not what you’re looking for, right?” You could feel the heat in your cheeks, and you playfully whacked him in the arm a bit, before pushing through the doors of the hotel and feeling the sun on your cheeks once again. 

You watched him climb into the car you took earlier and stop yourself from following him. You were going to need some time to think about how you should take that last comment, and a half an hour drive outside of his presence would probably do you good. Climbing up into the other SUV, you take a deep breath, feeling all the restlessness of the night before creep up on you.

–X–

You don’t know where you are, but you know that you’re burning up under his touch. His lips are on your skin, working their way down from your neck to the valley between your breasts and all you can hear is the sound of your own lustful moans as his hands trail further still. 

You don’t know who it is on top of you, but you know that you’re dying for him to be there, to push his tongue into your mouth and make you submit to his will. His fingers wrap around the waistband of your panties and roughly pull them down, opening you up to him. You feel his lips ghost down further still, until he’s there between your legs. 

“Is this where you wanted me, baby? So desperate to have me, my little slut.” His words send another shiver down your spine as you roll your hips up into his face again. 

He lets out a small chuckle and gives you what you want, finally lowering his tongue again and letting it meet your desperate cunt. He sets his attention on your clit, and your eyes roll back in bliss, not caring who it is between your legs giving you this much pleasure, just desperate for them to keep going. 

“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you beg, fisting a handful of your mystery man’s hair. It’s soft to the touch, a little curly at the ends and it feels familiar, but you’re unable to think about it for more than a second before he’s pushing a finger into you. 

“That’s it baby. Look at you, so fucking tight around my finger. You want me to push my cock into you, you’re going to have to relax for me baby, okay?” You still don’t know who it is, but you nod for him, knowing you want nothing except everything he’s telling you that you want. 

He’s thrusting his fingers into you at a relentless pace now, adding one digit every few thrusts, until he’s up to three. His face is still buried in your pussy, tongue still flicking against your clit, his other hand pushing you down by the hips as he forces you closer and closer to the edge. 

His hand drops down to your thigh, pushing your legs further apart, and it stays there feeling overly warm, almost burning you up from just that simple touch. 

“You’re so wet for me baby, going to take my cock now?” You whimper and nod your head as fervently as you can, begging him with your eyes to push into you. He finally pulls his head up to your own, and you’re finally face-to-face with your mystery man. 

“So wet for me, right baby? So wet for your husband?” Spencer questions you as he pushes into your wet, dripping hole, and you’re so surprised that all you can do in response is moan. 

With each thrust, he drops a moan into your ears, and you feel your climax building quickly. 

“Ah fuck yes, Y/N,” you claw at his back, desperate to pull him closer. 

“Spencer, don’t stop, fuck.” Your name begins dropping from his lips like a prayer as his thrusts get sloppier, wetter, deeper. 

“Y/N… Y/N……… Y/N….” 

–X– 

“Y/N, are you finally awake? We’ve been calling your name for a minute now.” Your eyes snap open and you come face to face with Emily and JJ from the seats opposite you on the jet. 

“We thought you might be having a nightmare. Want to talk about it?” JJ asks, her voice in a hushed tone as a look of sympathy crosses over her face. 

Whatever that was, it certainly was not a nightmare. But the scenario you were in now certainly was. 

“What? Oh, yeah. I don’t know, maybe it was a nightmare.” You desperately hope you sound convincing enough for them to drop the subject. The last time you’d mentioned a lack of sleep, half of the team had approached you with different home remedies and tips for getting your full 8 hours. The last thing you needed right now was the constant reminder that you’d just had a sex dream about Spencer Reid on the jet whilst surrounded by all your close friends and colleagues. 

Including the man himself, you realised, as you stretched your neck out from its awkward sleep position, and caught the sight of him there next to you. Your car had reached the jet first earlier that day, and it had taken all of two minutes after boarding before you’d been claimed by sleep, so you hadn’t realised he’d positioned himself next to you. 

A quick glance down had told you he’d done more than that. Wrapped around your legs, and so big that it stretched over his too, was a large blanket, the one that he usually used on your longer trips home. He was asleep in the seat next to you, you noticed after an embarrassing amount of time, head resting in one of his hands, lips slightly open, looking the image of tranquillity. 

His other hand was beneath the blanket, somewhere you couldn’t see, but as you shifted slightly in your chair trying to get comfortable again, you realised it was definitely somewhere you could feel. His hand had somehow fallen into your lap, and he had a firm but sleepy grip on your left thigh, the one closest to him. Now that you had moved, so did his hand, rubbing gentle strokes into your skin every few minutes. Slow enough that you were sure he was still asleep, but still enough to have am effect.

His hand was hot against your leg, and his touch burned. You remembered the sensation from your dream and immediately did your best to temper your facial expressions, not wanting to gather any more concern from the two women opposite you at the table than you already had. 

“Y/N? If you want to talk about it, we’re always here you know? This job can be overwhelming at the best of times, and we just worked a hard case. No one would blame you for needing to take some time for yourself.” Emily looked at you in concern now, and it was taking all of your will to keep your eyes on her, and nod at the appropriate time, your brain short-circuiting now that you realised Reid was so close. 

Where did this sudden infatuation with him come from? You’d always appreciated that he was a good looking guy, but you’d never thought about him so thoroughly before, and certainly not enough to lose yourself on the jet to inappropriate thoughts. 

It was the insanity of the weekend, you told yourself, it had to be. You’d learnt more about him and accidentally, possibly, maybe slept together, and now your body was just getting it out of your system. Either that or you’d just learnt too much about his preferences and your brain was just trying to come to terms with each revelation. 

You settled back into comfortable conversation with Emily and JJ, trying your best to convince yourself that your dream had meant nothing, blocking out any noise in your head that was suggesting otherwise. 

Especially the little thought at the back of your brain that was reminding you that you hadn’t removed his hand from your thigh, and that you really didn’t want to. 

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[axelsagewrites]

Felix Catton*Period Pains

Pairing: Felix Catton x afab! reader

Word count: 1322

Warnings: periods, period pain, mentions of drinking, pure fluff

Masterlist Here

There were few things worse than waking up at 7am for a lecture, rolling out of bed and seeing the blood stain on the sheets. The brief relief of getting your period was quickly swept away when the first cramp hit. You managed to get through your classes with a few pills and the promise of your hot water bottle in your dorm.

During your lecture you felt your phone buzz and sneaked a glance only to see Felix had messaged the group chat with plans to go out for the night. You weren’t exactly sure how you managed to join his and Farleigh’s drinking gang, but you were always down to have a pint with them at the end of a long day.

But today even just reading the text made you tired. Instead of replying you slipped your phone back into your pocket and tried your best not to fall out your seat and writhe in pain.

-

You’d seen in the chats they’d planned on meeting at seven. When the time ticked around and your friends were all out downing their first drinks you were laying in bed instead with 2 hot water bottles, a jumbo bar of chocolate. At 7. 15 your phone buzzed again with a text from Felix.

Felix – You running late?

You – sorry I can’t make it. I don’t feel great

You really thought that was that and unpaused mean girls so you could see who had been personally victimised by Regina George. However just as Regina got hit by the bus there was a knock on your door.

You shut your laptop and paused for a second to see if they’d walk away but another knock came, and you were forced to drag yourself out of bed with a loud groan. “What-oh” you paused as you opened the door to a concerned looking Felix, “Hi? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was just worried about you. You never miss a night out, so I thought I’d come check on you. I’m sorry I can go if this is weird,” he said, his voice trailing off with a flush growing on his cheeks.

You’d never seen Felix nervous before, but it was an oddly cute sight. “No don’t be sorry. Its sweet really,”

“You don’t look sick,” he said, and it was at that moment you actually remembered how you looked.

Yes, the well-dressed incredibly cute aristocrat was now seeing you in your baggy pyjamas, bare faced, messy haired, with cow slippers on. It didn’t help that he was dressed up in a shirt and everything. “I’m not sick,”

“Then what’s wrong?” You paused, an awkward look accidentally washing over your face. Felix quirked an eyebrow before looking behind you and seeing your snack pile and hot water bottles on the bed, plus the one you still held in your hand. “Oh,” he said, realisation dawning on his face, “Do you need me to go pick you anything up?”

“Um no I’m alright,” you laughed though still feeling slightly awkward about it all, but Felix seemed completely unfazed by it all.

“Okay,” he said, before suddenly walking straight past you and into the room. “What were you doing before I came?”

“Just watching movies,” you said, voice trailing off as you followed him across your own room to where he sat on your bed.

“Oh, movie night!” he grinned, his charm turned back on. He moved to half lay on your bed and put the laptop on his lap, “What are we watching?”

Your eyes scrunched together in confusion as you looked at him, “I thought you were going out with the guys?”

Felix snorted, “Nah mate. They’re boring without you there,” he smiled in his adorable accent that made it even harder for you to wrap your head around this. “You, okay?”

“Yeah just- “you shook your head with a slight smile, “Never mind its nothing,” Felix nodded, seemingly accepting your answer as you moved to sit beside him on the bed.

“I like the outfit by the way. The slippers are a nice touch,” he grinned making you shove him away.

“Shut up,”

Felix laughed as he moved to put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you back to lay beside him as he looked at the movies you had on your list, “10 things I hate about you?” he asked, turning his head to look at you.

You could feel his breath fanning your face making it near impossible not to blush. “Its actually really good. It was inspired by The Taming of the Shrew but its okay if you don’t wanna watch it. Its just some dumb chick flick,” you said, pulling your hot water bottle onto your stomach.

“I trust your judgement don’t worry,” he grinned before starting the movie. “Oh popcorn! May I?” he asked, nodding towards the bag you had at the bottom of the bed. You nodded and quickly grabbed it to pass to him. when you moved to sit back his arm ended up around your waist, “Thanks love,” he smiled as he took the bag and settled in to watch the movie.

-

It was 1am when pretty woman wrapped up. All your snacks were now long gone and at some point, you had both ended up spooning on the single bed with your laptop on a chair beside the bed. Felix had stolen one of your hot water bottles for his back, stating it was the best invention ever.

At first the feeling of Felix’s arms around you and his breath tickling your ear made your skin red hot however now it was like a laying in a hot bath. “I can’t believe you’d never watched it before,” Felix said as the screen went black.

“I can’t believe you have,” you laughed making him roll his eyes with a dopey grin. “But I’ll admit it’s a good film,”

“What can I say? I have great taste,” he said, gently pulling your hip so you moved to lay on your back with him looking down at you, “I know a pretty woman when I see one,”

“Stop, that’s so cheesy,” you giggled making Felix do the same.

The laughter stopped but there was still a dopey grin on his face, “Its true though. This was fun though. We should do it again sometime,”

“You don’t regret ditching your pals?” you asked.

He shook his head, moving his arm to rest his head on his fist, “I can honestly say this is one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time,”

“Me too,”

A thick silence hung over the room as Felix glanced down at your lips, “Is it bad that I want to kiss you right now?” he whispered, his eyes gazing into yours and putting you in a trance.

“I think it would be worse if you didn’t,” was all you could whisper back.

You felt your heart racing in your chest as his head dipped down, his soft lips pressing gently against yours. the kiss was brief, but all the air was knocked out your lungs as he pulled away, “I’ve been wanting to do that for ages,”

“Then maybe you should do it again,” you said, your hand moving to rest gently on the back of his soft waves.

Felix smiled down at you as his head dipped down for another kiss, “Maybe I will,” he teased.

-

Nothing happened that night, but you did wake up with Felix still in your bed the next morning, your head resting on his chest. “Morning pet” he murmured as you woke up.

“Morning,”

“You’re cute when you sleep you know,” he said, your skin instantly heating up. His arm tightened across your waist though with a devious grin on his face, “Even cuter when you’re all shy though,” one thing was for sure, Felix and his cuteness would be the death of you.

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[girlboypersonthingy]

Hazbin Boys x reader- Comfort ❤️‍🩹

This is a request from an anon- hazbin boys comforting reader with depression/mental illness. Includes Lucifer, Angel, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox and just a dab of Alastor. Original request here + a heart felt message from yours truly 💌

TW: depression, mental illness, sickeningly sweet fluff

Notes: gn!reader, NSFW during Angel’s part 18+ plz

Lucifer 🍎

Oh my goodnessssssss, prepare to be treated like absolute royalty.

I’m talking foot rubs, back rubs, playing with your hair

Not only will he make you food, he’ll literally try to feed you and offer you sweet praises when you do eat. Eating can be a real chore sometimes…

“Good job, my love. It’s gonna be okay…okay?”

I think Luci is pretty touchy in general, but when you’re down in the dumps, he gets extra clingy and touchy

He’ll pretty much constantly have a hand on you- holding your hand, a hand on your back, a gentle rub on your shoulder

Will unfurl his wings and drag you close to him in bed, wrapping his arms and silky feathers around you as he lulls you to sleep

Like imagine a midday depression nap all tangled up with Luci, curtains drawn so the room is nice and dark, the temp is perfect, the bed is hugging you just as good as your babe next to is. Ugh. Plz, I want this. I need this.

Will try to gently coax you out of bed and try to get you out of the house. He knows it won’t be easy for you but he thinks getting you cleaned up, dressed and out doing something fun you’ll feel a bit better. You’ll at least be distracted from your sadness for a bit.

He’s so kind and nonjudgmental too. He gets it completely. He has depression too. Even the king of hell deals with mental illness, okay? Mental illness does not discriminate

He’ll offer the best advice he can muster up, using his own experiences to help you out of your funk

All in all, he’s just an absolute sweet pea. So doting, so caring.

Angel Dust 🕸️

Also has mental illness, also gets it completely.

KING OF DISTRACTIONS

Angel is a sweet boy but I don’t think he’d be too great at offering advice…

So he does his best to distract you from your feelings, doing whatever it takes to get you to smile, even just for a second.

Will ask you what you want to do first, whatever will make you happy, he’ll go along with it.

If you insist on rotting in bed, he’ll probably respectfully pull you out of bed, tell you “this ain’t good for ya, babe” and force you to go do something fun, something relaxing, something for yourself

Sorry not sorry but he’ll def offer to cheer you up by fucking you, letting you fuck him, eating you out, sucking your dick. Go ahead, take your stress out on him, he can take it ;)

Also the king of self care.

SPA DAY SPA DAY SPA DAY

Will draw you and him a bath, rub your shoulders while you sit in the warm water together, will even wash your hair for you

Forces you to wear a face mask with him lmao

“C’mon, (Y/N)! Lemme paint ya nails! You’ll look sooooo cuuuuuute~”

Expect lots of touching and kisses with him at night, especially if you’re having trouble sleeping

Rubs your back, rubs your arms, will rub gentle circles on your butt if you’ll let him, kisses your head, kisses your cheeks, kisses your nose

ALL THE KISSESSSSSS 💋💋💋

Husk 🃏

Okay listen…this guy is obvi a great listener and he’s pretty good at giving advice. Honestly, he’s probably the best person to go to.

Husk is an old soul, he’s pretty wise, has a lot of life experience, death experience, his own experience with mental illness and even addiction.

He could just listen to you talk for hours, waiting for you to pause before he replies. He’d never interrupt. He’s so patient with you 🥹

Will keep a close eye on you and any new habits you’ve seemed to pick up. He fixes his own issues with booze but he’s the type to say “do as I say, not as I do”

Won’t let you spiral into addiction like he did…it’s not an option.

I think Husk would be a good mix of “Come here, give Husker a hug. It’s alright, hun. Let’s go take a little nap, yeah?” and “Hey, I know what’ll cheer ya up!” *proceeds to show you the coolest, craziest magic tricks*

He’s a good balance of comfort and distraction

Anything he can do to help, just say the word

Will tell you funny shit he’s seen the folks around the hotel do just to see you laugh for a moment

“One time, Angel was walking right in front of the bar at like 7 in the morning and tripped over literally nothing and face planted! I had the best seat in the house. It was hilarious.”

This is my own personal headcanon, idk why but I feel like Husk can cook really well. He’d totally make you food, even bring it to you in bed if you don’t feel like getting up

Will absolutely let you play with him like a kitten, won’t even be upset about it. Play with his ears, give him pets, let his fur be your stim toy, let his purr soothe your achy heart

Sir Pentious 🐍

Plzzzz, he’s such a simp. I love this slippery, special little guy 💚

Big on cuddles! Will cuddle you all day, all night if you want. Loves the physical contact, and loves it even more when he can feel you relax a bit against him.

Will make his eggs boys do anything for you. Whatever you want, you tell them and they’ll happily oblige.

Kinda random but I think he’d be the type to try and pull silly little pranks on ppl around the hotel just to get you to laugh. He’s such a silly goose omg

He doesn’t really understand what you’re going through so he’ll just keep asking you what he can do, how he can help, what you want, what you need from him.

He doesn’t get it but he’ll do anything for you.

When you’re feeling particularly lazy and it’s extra hard to leave your bed, he’ll literally carry you around. Just lounge in his arms, darling, he’ll take you wherever you need to go. Don’t need to go anywhere? Fine, you’re gonna come along with him to do his daily tasks. Sit in his lap and just watch as he works.

Just wants to keep you close. He can’t stand the thought of you being alone when you feel like this. No matter where he is or what he’s doing, he wants you close.

Unless you insist on having some alone time or needing some space. Again, whatever you need from him, you got it.

Although, he may get a little teary eyed and pouty when he leaves you. Can’t stop thinking about you all day and probably comes and checks on you several times.

Vox 🖥️

“CANCEL MY MEETINGS, HOLD ALL MY CALLS, TELL EVERYONE IM NOT RESPONDING TO EMAILS UNTIL TOMORROW!”

Guy needs to focus on his baby right now. You are his top priority, everything else can wait. You are just too precious to put on the back burner.

Will be sure to tell Val and Velvette to leave you two alone. He doesn’t want them upsetting you any more than you already are.

This man has his assistants waiting on you hand and foot. He’s gonna stay in your bed with you, cuddled up with tons of blankets, both in your pajamas as you watch movies while ordering his staff to bring you whatever it is you desire.

Will eventually yank you out of bed bc he can’t stay still for too long but you’re coming with him. Wants to keep you company always

In public, Vox isn’t the most romantic or touchy. He’s a busy man with a huge reputation to uphold. While he would never completely ignore you and he’s no ashamed to show some PDA with you, you sort of always find yourself following in his shadow when he’s hard at work.

Once he sees how much your mental health is affecting you, he becomes much more attentive, much more protective of you.

He’ll hold your hand or keep his arm around you when out and about. Will give you a gentle kiss and a prideful smile before getting on set for a news shoot.

If you’re having a particularly hard day, everyone get out of the way! Hes taking the day off, he doesn’t give a fuck what anyone says or thinks.

You are too important to him. Without you, what good would all his accomplishments be? Without you, who would he share all this with?

He needs you to stick around 🩵

Alastor🩸

I think Alastor would be absolutely clueless but he’d try his best nonetheless!

He’d also be one to try and distract you.

Wanna go to cannibal town and visit Rosie? She’ll help cheer you up! She’s a great listener with tons of good advice to give

Will reluctantly invite you into his room and lead you to the half of it that looks like a swamp/forest. He will take off his coat and sit in the grass with you, staying silent but watching you look around in awe.

He’s got lots of cool powers and will summon or manifest little things here that he thinks will bring a smile to your face.

Summons little lightning bugs to carefully dance around your face, holds back from slaughtering a deer that’s approaching just so you can admire it from afar, will watch with a genuine smile as you lay back in the grass and relax to the sound of crickets chirping and light jazz music.

If you asked…he might give you a hug. Might.

Also sends his shadow to check up on you every so often but if you notice this, he will deny it with all his might.

[xomakara]

Kindergarten Love Story

SUMMARY |  Attending elementary functions as a single mom with other pretty, attention-starved, flirtatious moms is a struggle. Especially since the new kindergarten teacher is Hongjoong, an old friend of yours that you haven't seen since your university days. You're torn between telling Hongjoong that he's your daughter's father or keeping everything a secret.

PAIRINGS |  Hongjoong x Reader

RATING |  SFW, Implied suggestive

GENRE |  KindergartenTeacher!Hongjoong, Dad!Hongjoong, PoliceOfficer!Reader, non-idol au, fluff, slight angst

CONTENT/WARNINGS | nothing really?? mentions of implied sex, one night stand

LENGTH |  4,358 words

TAGLIST | @jjoongstar

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet

@k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Hi there. Linda here. I hope you all like this! Don’t forget to like, comment, reblog and show some support. Love you all 💚

"You must be Hanbyul's mom."

You thought you wouldn't have seen him after so long. After so many years. But here he was again, back in your life like it was no big deal at all. He hadn't changed much, still handsome, and if anything he looked even better now than when you last saw him during your college days. Your heart fluttered just by looking at him, and seeing him smile felt like someone opened up a box full of butterflies and let them loose on your insides.

"It's nice to finally meet you. Hanbyul has been telling me nonstop that you're a detective." He says, holding out his hand. You look at his face for a second before grabbing his hand and shaking it.

Did he recognize you? Were you that forgettable? Did he forget all those times back in college where you'd hang out together, the way he looked at you whenever he got the chance?

"Thank you for taking care of my Hanbyul." You smiled warmly at him. You turned to look at your daughter, who was playing with Seonghwa, your partner on the force and your longtime friend. She always wanted to play detective when you and Seonghwa picked her up from school. It was adorable.

"She's a great kid. She learns fast too." He says, nodding with the brightest smile on his face. Lord, his smile made you weak. You could only stare at him for a while longer, trying not to lose yourself to thoughts about the things he could do to you.

"Y/N, shouldn't we be heading home soon?" Seonghwa walked up to you, his hand on your shoulder. Your daughter, Hanbyul, was holding onto Seonghwa's hand, smiling brightly. Seonghwa looked at the man that you were conversing with, eyes wide with recognition. "No way! Is that you, Kim Hongjoong?!"

Hongjoong looked at you and at Seonghwa with a confused look on his face. He blinked several times, before his face was filled with recognition. "Seonghwa? Park Seonghwa? And Y/N? I can't believe...wow, you're parents now!"

You could see the look of confusion on Seonghwa's face clear as day. "Oh no, Hongjoong. You got it all wrong. I'm not a parent. I'm just an uncle. Y/N and I aren't even dating. We are just friends."

"I'm just a single mom." You corrected him. "Seonghwa is my partner on the police force."

Hongjoong nodded. "Oh yeah, that makes sense. Well I'm sorry to have mistaken you guys." He gave you another one of his dazzling smiles. You had forgotten how his smile made you feel all tingly inside.

"That's okay. No need to apologize. I guess we'll be heading home soon then. Hanbyul, tell your teacher goodbye." You told your daughter, smiling at her as she ran over to her teacher and waved goodbye.

You never imagined Hongjoong to be a kindergarten teacher. Back in college, you would've never pictured him teaching kids. But now, standing in front of him, you couldn't help but think that he was perfect for the job. He really did make children feel comfortable and safe around him. They seemed to love him more than anyone else in their lives. You could only imagine how he made a difference in their lives. It made you smile knowing that he had found his calling in life.

Moments later, you were in the car with Hanbyul dozing off in the backseat and Seonghwa in the driver's seat. You looked at Seonghwa as he kept his attention on the road. A silence fell between you two, both lost in your own thoughts.

"I'm surprised you haven't told him yet." Seonghwa said suddenly, breaking the silence.

"And what would I tell him? That he's her father?" You looked at Seonghwa with a raised eyebrow. "I didn't even know he was Hanbyul's teacher. The last time I saw him was five years ago."

"But don't you think you should tell him before Hanbyul grows older? Don't you think he deserves to know that he's teaching his own daughter? He might want to know." Seonghwa said softly. You sighed, looking out the window. There was no point denying that Seonghwa was right.

"Alright. Maybe I will. If I get the chance to meet him. And if he's willing to listen." You say. "If he knew about Hanbyul, I'm sure he'd be happy."

"Let's hope so." Seonghwa smiled.

Your mind drifted back to when you first met Hongjoong. How cute he was back then. How his shy smile could make you fall for him immediately. You reminisced on all the fun times you had with him back then, how you loved his company so much that you almost forgot that he was a player. His charm was irresistible. His ability to pull women towards him was incredible. Women wanted to be with him, men wanted to be like him. Everyone loved him. Even your closest girlfriends were jealous of your friendship with him.

Then that one night at the frat party changed everything. You remembered clearly the expression on his face when he saw you walking into the party. You also remembered the way he looked at you afterwards, the softness in his voice when he asked you to go home with him. You remembered the hours spent with him, the laughter, the touches, the words he whispered into your ears. You remember every inch of his body. Every little detail. And you remembered the way he treated you. So sweet. So gentle. You remembered how you never wanted him to stop touching you. How you wanted to spend every minute with him. You remember waking up the next morning to find yourself naked and curled up next to him, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You remember the look on his face when he woke up. You remembered the way he kissed you before leaving his apartment. You remember the taste of his lips.

The drive back home passed quickly, and before you knew it, you were pulling up to your house. You looked at the clock and noticed it was already past eight o'clock. You yawned as you got out of the car. You hadn't realized how tired you were. All this thinking was making you sleepy. After unlocking the door and watching Seonghwa carry Hanbyul into her room, you sink into the couch cushions.

"Man, how the years go by." Seonghwa muttered as he sat next to you. You turned your head to look at him, and couldn't help but smile. "I can't believe it's been almost six years since we graduated."

"Me neither. It feels like yesterday." You laughed. "Do you think...if I told Hongjoong that he has a daughter..." You trailed off.

"Hey whatever you do, just know I'm here to support you." Seonghwa said, putting his arm around your shoulders. "Even if you choose not to tell him."

"Thanks." You smiled, leaning against Seonghwa.

He chuckled before getting up and heading towards the door. "I gotta go take care of some paperwork. Call me if you need me."

A few minutes later, you were lying on your bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Your thoughts going in circles. Over and over again. Should you tell Hongjoong? Would he even want to hear from you? Or did he already moved on from you, just like everyone else did? Was it fair for you to keep this from him? What if he hated you for keeping such a huge secret from him?

How did you end up here? In this predicament? This mess?

No.

Having Hanbyul wasn't a mistake. Sure, you went through hell in the delivery room by yourself. But when you held her in your arms for the first time, when you looked at her tiny face, you instantly knew that she was the most precious thing in your life. That you'd do anything to protect her. That she deserved the best. You promised yourself that you'd give her everything she needed. And you meant it.

Hongjoong watched as little Hanbyul played with the other kids in the sandbox. Her face was covered in sand. He tried not to laugh, instead giving her encouraging words as she took her time digging in the sand with a shovel.

There was something about Hanbyul. He couldn't put his finger on it. But he could tell that there was something special about her. Something he'd never experienced before. He didn't know why he was paying more attention to her compared to the other kids in his class. He wondered if maybe it was because she reminded him of himself. Of the younger version of himself. But then again, there were many things that reminded him of himself. Maybe he was just being silly.

When the kids started filing out of the sandbox, they came over to where he was sitting and talked amongst themselves. Hanbyul tugged on his pants, looking up at him with a pleading expression on her face. "Teacher Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong looked down at her. "Yes, Hanbyul?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Hongjoong leaned down so that he was eye level with her. "Of course you can."

Hanbyul glanced around to make sure nobody was listening. "Is it true that you're Mommy and Uncle Seonghwa's friend?"

Hongjoong let out a small laugh. He thought that this was just the cutest thing ever. "What makes you think that?"

"Because they talk about you a lot." Hanbyul explained.

"Well, I hope it's nice things." He smiled.

Hanbyul giggled. "It is." She smiled.

"Thank you." He gave her a wink.

She giggled again. "You're welcome."

They shared a moment before she decided to get back to playing with the other kids. Hongjoong stood up and brushed off his pants. When he turned around, he caught sight of you watching him from afar. He smiled at you. "Y/N, what brings you here?"

"Just checking on Hanbyul." You replied, sitting next to him.

"She's having a blast playing with all the other kids." Hongjoong said, taking a sip of water from the bottle in his hand. "Look at her, she looks happy."

You gazed at Hanbyul. She looked very content, laughing and giggling. "She's always like this. Never fussy or cranky. She doesn't cry often either." You sighed. "I mean, she does get upset when she gets hurt or hungry but she doesn't cry much."

"You're so lucky." Hongjoong mumbled, closing his eyes for a second. "To be able to enjoy motherhood like this."

"It comes with its struggles, too." You frowned and looked at him. "She asks about her father a few times. Sometimes I feel bad telling her that he doesn't live with us anymore. That he's gone away."

Hongjoong nodded slowly. "I understand how you must feel."

"Are you married?" You asked, changing the subject.

"Not yet." Hongjoong admitted.

"That's good." You smiled. "Do you have any plans to settle down soon?"

"I'm still young." Hongjoong shrugged. "Maybe someday."

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. How do you tell this man that he has a child and that she's right there playing with the other kids? Do you say something? Say nothing?

"Speaking of settling down, are you dating anyone?" He asked suddenly, turning his attention to you.

You bit your lip nervously, feeling nervous all of a sudden. "Uh..no."

Hongjoong sighed. "Y/N. Why not?"

"Well, I guess it's just not the right time for me." You answered quietly. "I've been busy lately. With work and raising Hanbyul and all."

"Hang in there, Y/N." Hongjoong smiled at you. "Everything will work out."

"Thank you." You smiled.

A few minutes later, Hanbyul came running over to you and tugged on Hongjoong's pants. "Teacher Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong nodded. "Yes, Hanbyul?"

"Will you play with me?"

Hongjoong stared at her. She was adorable. "Sure." He nodded. "Where should we go?"

"Playground!" Hanbyul exclaimed excitedly. "My favorite swing!"

Hongjoong smiled at her. "Okay. Let's go."

You watched as the two of them walked hand in hand towards the playground. They stopped near the swing set, smiling and talking to each other as they waited for their turn. The sound of their laughter filled the air, creating a peaceful atmosphere around you. Your daughter and her father, enjoying each other's company. Just like you always dreamed. You looked up at the sky, hoping that one day, you would have the courage to tell Hongjoong about Hanbyul.

It had been several weeks and you still hadn't had the courage to tell Hongjoong about his daughter.

Sometimes, you found yourself wondering whether he already knew. Did he suspect? Did he know Hanbyul was his? Was he upset that he missed out on the first few years of her life? Did he resent you for lying to him?

But no matter how much you kept wondering about these things, you would only continue worrying yourself over nothing. At the end of the day, it wouldn't change anything. Not now, and definitely not in the future. No matter what happened, the important thing was that Hanbyul was well taken care of. That she was happy and healthy.

Hongjoong invited you over for a cup of coffee one day and you knew that it was time.

While he made you both a cup of coffee, you began thinking of ways to start the conversation. Maybe it would be easier if you were to come straight out and tell him.

You glanced at him while sipping your coffee. His eyes were fixed on his mug as he stirred it, occasionally taking a sip. He seemed to be lost in his own world.

"Can I ask you something?" Hongjoong finally spoke up.

"Go ahead." You replied, hoping that he'd be straightforward.

"Hanbyul's father...is it...me?" He asked.

You gulped hard. Had he known all along?

You stayed quiet for a while, unsure of how to answer. When you finally opened your mouth, it was to nod your head. "I...thought you might've known." You murmured softly.

"So I was right." Hongjoong muttered softly. "She looks like you but she acts so much like me when I was younger. She reminds me of myself."

"She's your daughter, Hongjoong." You stated, still trying to hold back tears. "It was hard for me to not tell you that you had a daughter. That one night stand we had resulted in a pregnancy. I loved Hanbyul so much. I wanted to do whatever it takes to make sure she was happy. I've done my best to raise her. To provide for her needs. I know it hasn't been easy. I understand if you don't want to accept her into your life."

"Why wouldn't I accept my daughter? Why wouldn't I love her?" Hongjoong whispered. "All this time being her teacher, it never occurred to me that I had a daughter. That I could've possibly fathered someone so innocent and beautiful. A girl who looks so much like you."

Your heart fluttered. "I've missed you." You admitted quietly. "I've missed our talks, our laughs. All the memories we shared together. We've been through a lot together. I know it's weird to know that you're the father of your friend's daughter...but that one night we had...I don't regret it. I don't think I ever could."

He gazed at you, studying your face. Then his gaze traveled down to your lips.

You swallowed hard. His presence alone felt comforting. So warm and welcoming.

"Back then...did you ever have any feelings for me?" He asked after a while.

"Did I ever have feelings for you?" You repeated. "Honestly, yes. Did you ever...? Like, did you have feelings for me? I mean..." You blushed. "Before we had sex."

His gaze softened as he reached out to place a hand on top of yours. "If I had the chance to go back and redo everything, I would've kept you in my arms that night." He whispered. "I would've given you everything you deserved. I wish you would've told me sooner."

"Me too." You whispered back.

You leaned closer to him, placing your forehead against his. You closed your eyes, taking in his scent. He smelled like lavender and vanilla. His scent was intoxicating.

"I'm sorry." You apologized softly, wrapping an arm around his waist, resting your head against his chest.

"Don't be." Hongjoong replied, bringing one hand up and stroking your cheek gently.

"I've wanted you for so long." You confessed, keeping your eyes locked onto his.

He smiled. "And now we're here."

You returned the smile before moving your hand and cupping his cheek. He didn't hesitate in pressing his lips to yours, and within seconds the kiss became heated. You whimpered against him when he pushed you onto his bed, hovering above you.

The kisses moved further up, from your jawline, to your neck, until finally arriving at your lips. It was slow, sensual. As if every movement was perfectly planned out, carefully thought over. And you responded to his touch eagerly. His hands wandered all over you, mapping out every inch of your body. You reached up and tangled your fingers in his soft hair, letting him do whatever he wanted to you.

When he broke the kiss to look down at you, he smiled, caressing your face. You bit your lower lip and cupped his cheeks, pulling him close. He pressed his forehead against yours before connecting his lips with yours once more, his hands roaming all over you again. This time, though, he didn't pull away as quickly, instead lingering there, staring at you with his mesmerizing eyes, making your heart skip a beat. You let out a shaky breath before allowing yourself to melt completely into the kiss, allowing it to continue for a couple more minutes before he started moving southward, exploring the rest of your body with his fingers and mouth.

Finally, you broke away from him, panting heavily, and pulled back slightly, staring up at his handsome face, which was flushed from the passion between the two of you. He was still breathing hard himself, looking down at you with hooded, darkened eyes, his lips wet and swollen from the previous make out session. It made you want more, but unfortunately, it was getting late.

"I should get home." You breathed out.

"Please don't." He pouted, pressing his hips against yours and grinding into you.

You gasped. His erection pressed against you. "Hongjoong...I have to. Hanbyul..." You explained.

"Just ask Seonghwa to babysit for tonight." He nipped at your lip. "Please?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I can't Hongjoong. Not right now. Not tonight." You placed a quick kiss on his lips. "There's plenty of time for us." You promised him, pulling away and getting out of his bed.

"Can we...can we spend next weekend together? You, me, and Hanbyul? I'd like to spend more time getting to know her."

"Really?"

"I'm her Dad, aren't I?" He raised his brow with a playful look on his face, smiling down at you. "That's if...you'll have me?"

"You're stuck with us both now." You winked, pecking his lips once more and giggling as he captured your lips.

It didn't take long for the kiss to deepen, and by the time he let you go, your head was spinning.

He pecked your cheek, holding you to him once again. "Have a safe ride home. Make sure you text me when you're there." He reminded you, his grip tightening.

You nodded. "I'll be sure to."

He grinned before letting you go, watching as you exited his house. You were smiling to yourself as you went home, feeling giddy and happy. This is what you always wanted. A second chance at romance with Hongjoong. Sure, the beginning may have been rocky, but if everything went according to plan, things were about to become much better than before.

It was finally the weekend, and it couldn't come quicker. Hongjoong had been texting you all week. Talking about things here and there. Anything from small talk to sexual thoughts, or flirty compliments. Every day you look forward to the weekend.

It was currently 7am in the morning and you were awoken by Hanbyul jumping on you and yelling "Wake up!!" repeatedly. It didn't bother you that you had an energetic five-year-old. She brought excitement into your life. But, man. Why'd you have to wake up early today?! You just needed a bit more beauty rest.

"Good morning, little bean." You yawned, kissing her forehead.

"Morning, Mommy." She squeaked back.

You smiled, pulling her into your arms and tickling her, making her laugh loudly and squeal with delight. You giggled along, tickling her under her armpits and around her waist before eventually stopping, taking in her beautiful giggles, the sound was music to your ears.

"Now, let's go brush our teeth and get ready for the day." You said.

She nodded happily, racing off towards the bathroom, laughing like a maniac. You chuckled, watching as she scampered away. Then, a knock at the front door caught your attention. You hurried over, wondering who the hell was knocking at this hour. Upon opening, it revealed a grinning Hongjoong. You opened your mouth but no words came out. He was too handsome for you to find your voice.

"Hey." He greeted brightly. "Surprised to see me, huh?"

"Y-Yeah.." You replied shakily.

"I just figured I'd come surprise you instead of picking you both up. Save me some gas money." Hongjoong shrugged. "Is she up?" He asked excitedly.

"Uh, yeah..."

"Mommy! Why is Teacher Hongjoong here?" Hanbyul poked her head around the corner.

Hongjoong waved at her. "Hey. I came to spend the day with you two, if that's alright." He told her, approaching and kneeling down to be her level.

Hanbyul's eyes lit up as she bounded forward and threw her tiny arms around Hongjoong's neck. "Okay!"

Hongjoong stood up, carrying your daughter with him. He spun around, making her laugh hysterically. Your heart pounded at the scene unfolding before you. Everything seemed surreal.

You didn't want to interrupt the precious moment. It seemed too personal. So you simply remained at the door.

"So. What shall we do?" Hongjoong questioned playfully.

Hanbyul tilted her head, deep in thought.

"What's wrong, little bean?" You teased her.

"Hmm..let me think." She replied.

"Alright, while you think, let's sit down." Hongjoong replied. He let her down, leading her and you to the living room to sit down.

Hanbyul joined Hongjoong on the couch. While you were tempted to sit on Hongjoong's free side, you decided to take a seat next to her and opposite Hongjoong instead.

"Hanbyul, can mommy tell you something?" You suddenly spoke up. Hongjoong raised his eyebrow at you and you mouthed to him "she needs to know before we go any further." He nodded and sat silently as he waited for you to start speaking.

"Hanbyul," you began. "Hongjoong isn't just your teacher anymore." You said to her, smiling widely.

"No." Hanbyul shook her head. "Why mommy? I like Teacher Hongjoong!"

"That's not it, sweetie." You patted her head. "Hanbyul..."

Hanbyul looked confused, so Hongjoong lifted her onto his lap. "Hanbyul, I'm your dad."

Hanbyul's eyes widened, her gaze landing on you. Then, she looked back at Hongjoong, her lips forming an 'o' shape.

"Teacher Hongjoong? My Daddy?" She tilted her head in curiosity.

Hongjoong grinned and nodded. "That's right. I'm your dad, Hanbyul."

She blinked rapidly, letting out a surprised squeak. You could see tears starting to pool up in her eyes.

"Aww, no. Don't cry." You reassured, leaning over and wiping away a tear that ran down her cheek. "Are you okay?"

Hanbyul nodded. "Daddy." She looked up at him with wide eyes, studying his features intently. Her face lit up. "I know I'm not supposed to cry."

She squirmed on his lap, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him tightly. "No wonder you're my favorite teacher." She said, snuggling her face into his shirt. "I always hoped that Teacher Hongjoong would be my daddy one day."

You sighed, ruffling her hair. "And here you are." You cooed softly.

You love this little girl. More than anything else in this world. Even though she might've grown on her own with you, you knew you had plenty of room in your life and in your heart to share the experience of raising her alongside someone else. A person you loved. You would be happy and proud to watch her grow up and turn into an adult with the help of Hongjoong.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek to hold back a gasp when Hongjoong leaned down, peppering kisses all over Hanbyul's face. She giggled and nuzzled into his chest, resting her head against his shoulder. It was adorable seeing father and daughter interact with each other.

"Mommy." She broke the moment, her eyes still fixated on you. "You're crying." She stated bluntly.

"Oh..." You didn't notice the warm tears run down your cheeks. You wiped them away quickly and smiled. "I'm just happy, little bean."

"It's okay to cry when you're happy." She replied, her gaze softened and filled with adoration for her mother.

Your heart warmed. You scooped her out of Hongjoong's arms. You held her close, placing a gentle kiss on her temple. "Thank you." You whispered, a huge grin graced your features as you brushed away more tears.

She placed her hands on either side of your face, caressing your cheeks softly. "Aren't you and Daddy gonna kiss now?" She asked, her question directed towards Hongjoong, who stood and was coming over to the two of you.

He wrapped both his arms around your shoulders, placing his head atop hers. "No need to hurry, little one." He smiled gently, looking down at your beautiful little girl. "We still have forever to do that."

You gazed up, meeting his eyes. "Then let's start with today." You grinned before pressing a soft kiss to his plush lips.

Everything felt right in this moment. Just the three of you.

[meatonfork]

Wondering how grim would react to meeting König and being absolutely flabbergasted from how huge this man is

New Best Friend

————————————————————————————————————————

pairings: p!könig x grim, platonic 141 x grim

warnings: none!

summary: grim finally meets the big man

————————————————————————————————————————

you had seen him around before, but you were always rushed off to the next mission before you could get acquainted with the behemoth of a man

finally, months later, you finally got to say hi.

well, that was the idea.

you’d just finished dinner in the cafeteria with your force and decided to head in for the night

könig had been across the room, eyes fleeting to your laughing figure

it wasn’t until much later that you’d snuck off to get a snack

washing your plate off in the sink, you listened to music flowing through your headphones, humming softly

a tap on your shoulder made you turn, dropping the plate from how soapy it was

it shattered, literally just glass all over the floor

you didn’t have shoes

könig immediately starts apologizing

“oh mein Gott! i am so sorry!”

his voice pulled you out of your stupor and you start calming him down

“it’s okay! i swear! shit happens, man. you mind helping me around the glass? i don’t have shoes” you offered him a sweet smile

without hesitation, he helped you around the glass by lifting your smaller figure and plopping you away from the glass

“thanks, big guy. let me go grab a broom!”

you left him there

he kinda just stood there like this 🧍

he felt awful

definitely beating himself up over this

he was also caught up on “big guy”

he’d heard it before, but it was nice coming from you

you came back quickly, dustpan and broom in tow

you two cleaned up the glass in relative silence

it wasn’t until you dumped the glass in the garbage did you finally say something to nervous giant

“so, uh.. did you need something?”

“what?”

“when you came in. did you need something?”

“oh. no, i wanted to say hi. i didn’t know you couldn’t hear me. i’m sorry.”

“stop apologizing- it’s okay, i promise!”

“uh, can i get your name, Maus?”

a subtle blush sets on your face and you answer him before asking the same

“König”

“ah, King. seems fitting”

since that night you guys are attached at the hip

ghost and soap are so jealous

you reassure them they have no need to be

sometimes you’ll come back from a day out with könig and soap will be sulking on your bed

if you guys end up on missions together, you both go out of your way to make sure the other is okay

so many piggyback rides

he manhandles you

just throws you around

he buys you flowers a lot bc he knows you like them

after knowing each other a while, hand holding is a must in public with him

you know he has social anxiety, so instead of babying him, you just leave lingering touches to let him know you’re there and you leave it at that unless he initiates it

you guys are best friends.

grim + könig = besties for the resties

————————————————————————————————————————

a/n: thank you for reading!! there will definitely be more of these two <3

[padfootagain]

Blackout

Hi everyone! Here comes another fic for Hozier! Hope you like it! It isn’t an enemies to lovers, honestly, more like an… annoyed to lovers.

Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x reader

Warnings: none, it’s cute! Adorable even. Lots of interrupted kisses. Annoyed to lovers instead of a real enemies to lovers

Summary: Your new neighbour is insufferable with his music-making and his pretty face and his unbearably tall frame. Or is he? Maybe a blackout through your neighbourhood will make you change your mind about him.

Word Count: 5568

Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It wasn’t that you hated him, really. You reckoned that you didn’t know the guy enough to hate him.

It was just that… he simply… got on your nerves.

Why? Well, the fact that your new neighbour was blasting electric guitar and wailing at 2am was a good start. And then there was just… something… something off. You couldn’t explain it. You just saw him and you went nope.

And that was probably mean, and uncalled for, to be fair. He seemed nice enough, during the day, when he was not waking you up at an ungodly hour. He was good-looking too, and he had a nice soothing voice, quiet and surprisingly gentle considering that he was a fucking giant…

Still, you couldn’t forgive him for ruining your nights and never even apologising. Or actually, he did apologise. Every time. And then, he went ahead and did it all over again the next day. The fact that he was a famous musician (that you had obviously recognised, you did not live under a rock, after all) was no excuse to bother your neighbours when they had jobs to go to in the morning.

What a jerk…

Still, you did need some flour to bake these cookies due for your friend tomorrow, now that your little demon of a black cat had dropped the whole thing on the floor… and then decided to roll in it so he could paint your entire kitchen with powder.

What a day…

So, that was the reason why you were now knocking on your neighbour’s door. It was a small building you lived in, with only three flats, and you knew that the couple upstairs were away, gone on vacation somewhere hot and sunny to drink fancy colourful cocktails, the lucky bastards. Meanwhile, you remained in your small town, while it was freezing cold outside, sky as grey as your mood, forced to see this unbearably annoying neighbour of yours…

You knocked a second time, perhaps he had not heard you. You knew he was in, there was light coming out from underneath his door. The shop in your village was closed today. He was your only hope to get these cookies of yours, sadly…

Finally, the door opened. Or well, it was flung open, actually. A grumpy look on handsome features appeared, towering you with his full height, long brown curls messily tied in a bun.

“Hi!” you forced a smile. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, but nodded anyway.

“Need anything else?” he asked, and his voice was softer than the look on his face would have suggested.

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He seemed unsure of what to do with his long limbs for a moment, staring at you before he turned in a jolt, hurried back inside. You noticed that he hadn’t bothered with a hello.

What a je…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour with a smile. It was pretty, even if it was unmistakeably polite more than anything else.

Why on earth were you thinking that, by the way?

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise.”

He merely gave you another smile, clearly uncomfortable.

“Okay, bye!”

You spun around before he could do anything but mumble a ‘goodbye’, and disappeared in your flat, just across the hall.

Leaning against your front door after closing it, you tried to remember how much of a jerk that man was. How annoying he was. And most of all, you tried not to think of how gorgeous his hazel eyes were…

There was a noise before you, and when you lifted your eyes, Salem was staring at you, paws and fur still partially covered in white flour.

Damn…

It wasn’t that he hated you, really. Andrew reckoned that he didn’t know you enough to hate you.

It was just… simply that you… made him nervous.

There was something about you that just made him struggle to breathe all of a sudden. The fact that the first conversation you had was you not-so-politely telling him to shut up already might have something to do with that. The fact that your cat had been peeing right before his front door on several occasions also played in your disfavour. And perhaps there was also the fact that he found you breathtaking, that he loved the sound of your voice, and that every time he saw you he was torn between an urge to snap at you and another to kiss you to finally make you shut up already. He also sometimes wanted to throw your cat out of the building, but he was too kind-hearted for this to ever fall into the ‘feasible’ category.

The other ones of his urges though…

He shook himself, focused on his guitar again, reached for the cup of tea by his side, sliding the two teabags to the side to take a sip. He needed to focus. He had a song to finish, damn it…

But then again, writing in this small flat he was renting wasn’t ideal. The roof of his home needed to be fixed, he couldn’t stay there for several weeks in a row while people were working on it. And as he was in desperate need for a place to stay while his roof was being repaired, and unwilling to simply stay at a friend’s house for weeks, he wasn’t picky when it came to the choice of flat for this short rental. He would be staying only for a few weeks anyway. He saw the flat on Air BnB, figured it would do, and moved in for six weeks.

The paper-thin walls were a challenge though. And being the night-owl he was, it was tough working only throughout the day.

He took a look at the clock on the wall. 9pm… surely he could make a little bit of noise still. No adult was going to sleep so early these days, lives were too busy for that, workdays too long.

He started recording, trying to get a few back-up vocals in. He could record some guitar quietly later, but he did need some strong vocals to get a feeling of the song. Perhaps it would help him finish this bunch of lyrics he was stuck with.

He had been working for around twenty minutes when he heard someone knocking on his door.

He stopped mid-note, cursing at the interruption. Your interruption, without a doubt…

He needed to work, it was still early, and you were getting on his nerves so fucking much…

He opened his door a little too hard, a dark expression adorning his features. And he was even angrier at you when he found you wearing casual clothes, a warm oversized hoodie and some sweatpants. He was infuriated by your messy hair and the way he wanted to run his fingers through it. He was so frustrated by the white traces of flour splattered across your cheek and sleeves and fingers, and how adorable they made you look. Cosy and comfortable and making him feel lonely like this, on his own, recording alone and singing to no one, making him want to hold you through the night…

“Hi!” you spoke first, but he noticed at once how forced your smile was. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

He was so surprised, he had to raise an eyebrow at that. No complaints about his singing? No… complaints in general? Were you alright?

He wondered why he was so surprised by that, anyway. You seemed to be lovely. He simply had never had the occasion to properly talk to you, that was all…

He nodded.

“Need anything else?” he asked, making his voice softer, knowing he had been a little rough as he had opened the door.

And for God’s sake, he had not even said hello! You would think he was an absolute knob… Was it too late to say hello? Yeah, of course, it was too late, he was pathetic, and there it was again, you were making him so damn nervous, staring at him with these beautiful eyes of yours…

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He wasn’t sure what to do. For some reason, he was reluctant to walk in again. He didn’t dare question why.

Eventually, though, he did hurry to his kitchen, foraging for his flour. He had barely half a bag left…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour and forced a smile. He hoped you wouldn’t notice that his hands had turned clammy, that he was struggling for breath a little… or a lot, actually. He didn’t know what to make of his long limbs, of his tall frame, he didn’t know what to tell you…

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise,” you told him, smiling too, although yours was more relaxed and he found it a little too bright, it made it dangerous.

He wondered if he should tell you about the white streak on your cheek, but decided against it. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, he was awkward enough for the two of you. God, it had been years since he had been that shy in front of someone.

Before he could find something to say (and he was trying hard to find something interesting to say), you were pressing your lips tightly together.

“Okay, bye!”

It was over already? Andrew was a little stunned by it, he mumbled a ‘goodbye’, brain functioning at full speed to find an excuse to make you stay, but found nothing, reaching to grasp only at air. A second later, you were spinning around, hurrying across the corridor and back to the safety of your door. He watched you disappear, and walked back inside with a sigh.

He sat back in his chair, picked up his guitar again. Damn, he needed to get a grip. He was supposed to hate you, for God’s sake…

“Oh, this got to be a joke…”

Andrew mumbled under his breath, heaving a deep sigh. As if things weren’t complicated enough already in this tiny flat…

The light had just gone out. In this wintery season, even though it was still fairly early, the sky was already wearing its nightly colours, although any traces of moon or stars were hidden behind heavy clouds. Without electricity, the whole room was drenched in darkness…

Andrew checked the battery level of his laptop, resting before him on the small desk where he had been working on a new song. Luckily, none of his music equipment was plugged in, so no damage from a power surge could have happened. He had about 35% battery left…

“Great…”

He saved his files, and used the light of the screen to look for his phone. He checked the battery there too, at the corner of the screen.

12%...

“Fuck…”

He turned the torchlight on anyway, having no other source of light in the room but for his electronical devices. He headed for the cupboard by the door, feet making the wooden floor creak quietly in the dark. He checked the fuses on the hidden electrical panel there, but everything was normal.

It wasn’t coming from his flat. In fact, it wasn’t coming from his building. As he peered into the street, all the streetlights had gone out. It was complete darkness, except for the distant lights of a car, that disappeared after a few seconds.

Andrew heaved another sigh, wondering what to do. It was 6pm, he had not eaten dinner, he had not showered – both vital needs that could not be fulfilled without electricity, unless he wanted to opt for a freezingly cold shower, and he was clearly not in the mood for that – and his phone, aka only source of light, was about to die.

Great… fucking great…

He reckoned that he had a few biscuits tugged somewhere, that would make dinner. He could still quickly wash up with cold water and take a proper shower tomorrow. He only needed a proper torchlight, or at least a candle to see something.

He foraged through the cupboards, drawers and every corner of the flat. No candle, no light, nothing…

His phone was down to 7% battery.

Damn…

There was, however, a solution to his problem. He could go and ask you if you could lend him any source of light…

God, he hated his bloody romantic brain for the line that immediately popped into his head.

She’s a source of light…

“Oh, just shut up, already…” he cursed at himself out loud.

He still opened the door, and walked over to your flat. He only hesitated once he was facing the wooden surface, hand raised in a fist and about to knock. He could feel his throat tightening, and some excited butterflies mingle in his stomach with something anxious and not quite nice. He could feel his palms becoming clammy. He bit down on his cheek.

Did he really want to do that? Knock on your door? See you? You could tell him to fuck off. You could be mean. Or worse, you could give him an earnest smile, what would he do with himself if you did?

But Andrew shook himself and finally knocked. He wasn’t a bloody teenager to be this intimidated by someone. He was an accomplished musician, in his thirties, who owned a home, bees and an awful lot of guitars. He had talked to many people who were way more intimidating than you, including the fucking president! He had sung in front of thousands of people! Tens of thousands! He could totally ask you for a torchlight and be cool about it.

His breath staggered when your face appeared, opening the door and looking up at him with these gorgeous eyes of yours, and his heart skipped several beats, and his brain simply ceased to function altogether…

Bloody hell…

“Oh, hi!” you spoke in an annoyed voice, but he somehow knew the feeling wasn’t aimed at him. “I was about to go over to your place, Andrew. There’s no power in my flat.”

“None in mine either. And nothing in the street. It seems the whole area is in the dark.”

You heaved a frustrated sigh, a long exhale through your nose, and Andrew couldn’t help but find you adorable like this, all frustration and annoyance. He wanted to kiss that frown of yours away…

But he shook himself instead.

She’s annoying as fuck. And you’ve interviewed your fucking president, you can ask your neighbour for a candle…

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, his voice more hesitant than usual, but steady all the same. “But there’s nothing we can do to get the lights back on, and there’s no candle or torchlight in the flat. And my phone is about to die. Do you have anything you could lend me for the night?”

But you shook your head.

“Sorry, got only one candle, and I’m using it. My phone is about to die too.”

“Oh… okay, nevermind then. Thanks anyway.”

“Oh wait! Your flour!”

You rushed inside, reappeared seconds later with the bag you had borrowed that morning.

“Thanks,” Andrew gave you a smile, one that he tried to make brighter than the ones he usually offered you. “Hope the cooking went well.”

“Yep! I now have lots of cookies! Luckily, they were finished before the power went out. The oven runs on electricity.”

“Yeah, mine too. Everything in the flat does, actually,” he answered with a wince.

“You’ve got some food for tonight?”

“Some snacks, yeah. It will simply not be a night for my infamous pastas.”

Andrew didn’t know how to react when you actually chuckled at his joke, a genuine smile now adorning your lips. It was all butterflies and leaping heart and air leaving his lungs.

Fuck… this was so much more intimidating than talking to the president…

“I’ve got some stuff ready, if you want. Nothing fancy, just a salad.”

You opened your door wider, a silent invitation, one he was too surprised by to seize right away, too busy raising an eyebrow.

“Oh… erhmmm… thanks… you don’t have to bother, though…”

“I’m not! I prepare most of my meals in advance, during the weekend. I have enough for you, if you want.”

“Erhmmm… it won’t bother you?”

“No, I…”

But you were interrupted by sudden darkness as Andrew’s phone decided to give up on life…

“Fuck! Bloody hell…” he cursed under his breath, tapping on the screen, but to no avail.

“Wait, the candle…”

You walked back into your flat, a dim light coming from the other end of the hall. He could only guess your form in the dark, but he noticed that you were stumbling as you cursed.

“Bloody… Salem! No! Andrew, close the door! The cat!”

Andrew didn’t think. He didn’t fully realize what he was doing as he stepped inside your flat and closed the door in a hurry. A soft brush against his ankle told him that your cat had not managed to escape.

“Did he run off?” you asked, reappearing with the candle in your hand, your features bathed in the warm light; something so ethereal, Andrew thought he was dreaming all of this.

But then he felt claws digging into his jeans in an attempt to climb up his leg, and he was reminded that he was not dreaming, indeed.

“No, he’s decided to use me as his personal tree instead,” he joked, bending to gently push the animal away, who mewed in discontent.

You laughed at that, sound clear and blinding, making him a little dizzy.

“For his defence, that’s an easy mistake to make.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Very funny…”

Still, he couldn’t refrain an amused smile, and yours brightened too.

“So, now that you’re in… want some of my brilliant chicken salad?”

You had no idea what had gone through your brain when you invited Andrew to come in and share a meal with you.

You were supposed to hate the guy. He was supposed to be the annoying musician next door who kept on yelling into some microphone when you tried to sleep.

It was difficult to remind yourself of that though, when the annoying musician turned out to be so soft-spoken and sweet. Sweet. Yeah, that was the most fitting word to describe how your evening was going with him so far. He seemed nervous as well, an unexpected reaction to your modest flat and perfectly ordinary self. The guy had sung in front of audiences of thousands and probably met an awful lot of people who were everything but ordinary… and yet he was shifting his weight now from one foot to the other, as if he didn’t know what to make of his long limbs. You found that adorable…

The fact that he looked stunning in the warm light of the candle, with his hazel eyes looking almost black in the dimly lit room, his hair held in a messy bun, the photons caught in his beard and long eyelashes… yeah, that was not helping at all, either.

You cleared your throat while handing him a glass of water, which he quietly thanked you for. There was nothing special about your meal, but he complimented you anyway. He stole a couple extra cookies for dessert, and you smiled at the sight.

“Sweet tooth?” you asked, nodding towards the crumbs in his plate, the last remnants of the fourth cookie he had been devouring.

He looked sheepishly at you.

“Kind of… sorry…”

“Don’t apologise! I’m glad you like them.”

“Well, you did make them with my flour, so I guess I’ve partly paid for them,” he joked, successfully making you laugh.

He was funny, which didn’t help you reminding yourself that you ought to despise him either.

If you had both struggled a little to start a proper conversation at the beginning, you were more relaxed now, and Andrew seemed to be feeling the same. You had barely talked to each other before, your interactions limited to polite chit-chat typical of neighbourhood, and you being annoyed at him, and him being annoyed at you.

It turned out that he was nice, that he was kind, that he was funny and smart and that he had an awful lot of anecdotes to tell. Time flew by, the night deepening faster than expected, and you remained sitting around your dinner table even after your plates were empty, talking about your lives and discovering that you had quite a lot in common, after all.

Alright, he wasn’t as insufferable as you had first thought, and for sure your heart leapt every time he smiled, and you couldn’t deny that he was gorgeous…

… still, you were supposed to hate him.

He helped you wash the dishes, joking and making you laugh, and hell, it was hard to stop your heart from beating too fast.

Out of annoyance, of course! You were annoyed… that was why your stomach made some crazy flip-flops when he bent closer to you to secure a plate in the cupboard above your head. It wasn’t at all because his shoulder was touching yours, because he stood so close you could smell his earthy perfume and it made you dizzy…

Nope! None of that… of course…

And when he looked down at you, remaining just as close, and you caught him staring, caught the bopping of his Adam’s apple and the tensing of the muscle in his jaw, the sudden urge you felt to reach up for his collar and pull him down until you could kiss his lips was a reflection of your frustration against him, nothing more.

Nothing more��

His eyes left yours, blinked a couple of times and landed on your lips, and you were certain that the sound of his breathing had disappeared. And you both remained there, standing still, staring at the other and you wondered if he was thinking the same thought as you did, having the same surprising longing to close the space between your bodies. You weren’t sure why you had invited him when you thought you disliked him. But then did you really dislike him? Or did you simply smell danger in his bright smile, saw risks in his pretty eyes, and the fear of falling in his deep voice? Yeah… yeah, perhaps there was a little bit of that, too… You tilted your head up, and he lowered his head, just a little bit, the ghost of a movement, you could almost have dreamt it…

But then he moved away, in a jolt, blinking and clearing his throat as if catching himself doing something mad and wrong and stopping before he actually performed the sin. You disliked him once again, then, hating that he elicited disappointment…

You finished washing the dishes in silence, and you hated the feeling of discomfort that suddenly replaced the warmth he had brought before. He was back at shuffling around, clearly uncomfortable. And yet, when he looked at you again and caught your gaze with his, his expression softened.

“Can I confess something?” he asked out of the blue, but you nodded in encouragement despite your surprise.

He sounded serious all of a sudden, and he took a moment to look for the right words. His eyes seemed to search for something in yours, and you couldn’t look away while he looked so intensely at you.

“I… I’m sorry we kind of… hit it off in a bad way. Cause I… you’re not as bad as I thought you were,” he added with a tinge of humour and lopsided smile, which made you smile too.

“Yeah… you’re not as insufferable as I thought you were either,” you admitted despite yourself. And yet, as soon as the confession passed your lips, you couldn’t deny that you truly meant it.

He grinned, the sight making your heart skip a few beats.

“Is there a way that I can repay you for your amazing chicken salad?” he asked, his tone more playful again, eliciting warmth across your frame.

You couldn’t refrain a laugh.

“I mean, it was an amazing salad,” you leaned into his joking tone.

“Spectacular. It deserves some kind of retribution, somehow…”

“Well, you’re a musician aren’t you? I’m sure you can find something.”

He laughed at that, clearly taken aback by your answer, but if he blushed and rubbed his neck in a mark of sudden shyness, he didn’t back down.

“You’re aiming straight for the serious topics,” he teased.

“For the free concert tickets, if we’re being fully honest…” you joked, making both of you laugh.

“Oh, I see! That’s where the sudden kindness comes from! You want to exchange a chicken salad for a show!”

“Absolutely! Do you have any idea how much time and energy I’ve put in that salad?!”

“A tremendous amount, no doubt! Well… sorry to disappoint, but I’m not on tour at the moment.”

“Good, cause I was aiming for that other artist you might know.”

He broke into a loud laughter, one that filled your apartment and your frame alike with joy.

“What a well-thought plan! I’m afraid you might make me more important than I truly am, though.”

“If I give you an extra-cookie, I’m sure you’ll find a way to get me the show I want.”

“And here you go, using my weaknesses already, you clever lass!”

“A genius, that’s what I am!”

You laughed again, before you would grow more serious again.

“Seriously though, don’t mention it. It was nice to have dinner with you.”

His smile grew more tender, his gaze softened.

“Yeah… it was nice for me too. And perhaps you… perhaps we could do that again? Next time I could be doing the cooking.”

“And with actual lights on, that could be good too,” you joked, making him chuckle as he nodded.

“And well… I’ll have my guitar with me, perhaps I can repay you with some music then.”

“Wow… are you offering a free concert, or a form of serenading?”

You were joking, but you noticed the way his cheeks reddened, and he averted his eyes for a few seconds, before capturing your stare with his once more.

“Rather the second option, I reckon.”

You tried very hard to hide your reaction: the way your heart skipped a few beats and then became absolutely erratic, so much so that you wondered if it could beat hard enough to break your ribs and escape your chest altogether; the butterflies that flew across your stomach; the breath that got caught in your throat…

Damn, you hadn’t felt like that in years…

He averted his eyes once more to speak again.

“Ermmm… unless you wouldn’t like that, of course.”

“I… Actually, I think I would like that. Quite a lot.”

He looked at you then, his smile turning into a grin. And he blinked, eyes falling to your lips a second time this evening…

You reached for your kitchen counter, hesitating in taking the first step and leaning into your urge to pull him down to kiss him. How crazy was that thought? That you could be kissing Hozier, of all people; that you wanted to kiss the neighbour you had categorized as annoying for weeks; that you felt exhilarated like a teenager at the mere thought of touching his cheek…

He seemed to be hesitating too, and you heard him take a sharp intake of breath, blink again, and then he slowly leant down…

… and then it was complete darkness in the room, as the candle died out.

You jumped in surprise, taking a step back involuntarily and letting out a squeal as you felt your heel brushing your cat’s tail. Salem hissed, although you stopped your step before you could hurt him. You started to lose your balance though, when a pair of hands reached blindly in the dark for you, grabbing both of your upper arms and pulling you forward. You collided with something warm, hard and steady, and the earthy scent that enveloped your senses and made your head spin told you that you were pressed against Andrew’s chest.

“You’re alright?” he asked, worry audible in his tone.

“Yeah, just… almost stepped on my cat.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, I almost stepped on him.”

He let out a low hum, almost a rumble, the vibrations echoing through your cheek and you had to close your eyes at the reassuring feeling. You reached up to hold him without thinking; there was something so safe and soft about his embrace…

His left hand moved from your arm to your back, a soothing caress as he pressed you closer. Meanwhile, his other hand was slowly moving up your arm, torturingly slow, making its way from your arm to your shoulder, and then it was time for a brush of long fingers across your neck that made your whole body tremble, and he kept on going until you moved your face so he could cup your cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing delicate circles into your cheekbone. You didn’t dare to move, afraid he would leave your arms, afraid you wouldn’t feel the warmth of his body sipping into your clothes anymore. But then, you felt his warm breath fan over your forehead, near your hairline, and you looked up to see nothing but shadows, your hair brushed against the tip of his nose.

But then you were blinded, as the power was back on, the lights now turned on again.

You both jolted backwards, blinking hard against the outburst of light, and you heard him cursing under his breath.

And just like that he was gone, and you could have cried from the cold that replaced his body in your arms.

It took both of you a moment to regain your composure, to realize what was happening, where you were, what had almost happened.

Almost…

When you caught his gaze again, you couldn’t make out what his hazel eyes were saying, pupils still dilated after spending so long in a dimly lit room and then in complete darkness.

You struggled to swallow, unsure what to do next. Were you supposed to act like you had not been close to kissing a second ago? Were you supposed to joke around again? Were you supposed to talk about it? Were you supposed to ask him on a date?

You read the same hesitations in Andrew’s eyes, although something soon shifted in his gaze. Something determined appeared, and a little scared, but lovely all the same. And before you could react, he had taken a step forward to close back the space between your bodies, had reached up to hold your face in both his hands, and was crushing his lips to yours.

Your brain ceased to function altogether, you were too stunned to realize fully what was happening. But then your braincells caught on, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to bring his even closer as you kissed him, sighing in his mouth as he parted his lips to taste you.

For how long did you remain like this, standing in your kitchen, untangled and kissing? Hard to tell, impossible even. But when you broke apart, both of you out of breath, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, and he held you close, as if he were afraid you could leave.

“What the fuck was that?” you asked, your voice full of shock.

He chuckled at your reaction.

“You know, when a man and a woman really like each other, sometimes…”

“Don’t,” you warned him, but couldn’t refrain a smile all the same.

“Sorry, bad timing.”

You looked up at him, and by the look he gave you, you guessed that you weren’t very good at hiding your sudden nervousness.

“I’m not the ‘one-night stand’ type,” you warned him.

Andrew slowly nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Okay.”

“Besides, I’m supposed to hate you so…”

“Hate me?”

“You’re supposed to be the hot but very annoying neighbour who I blame for all of my life’s problems.”

He laughed at that, a smirk forming on his lips.

“You think I’m hot?”

It was your time to laugh.

“You’re not too bad,” you answered, but the look you gave him made him blush.

“Well, you’re not too bad either. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“I’m sure you can do better than that.”

A spark of mischief appeared in his eyes.

“If you want, I can get going with the serenading.”

You laughed again, shaking your head, but playing along all the same.

“Tempting. I won’t give myself away for less than that.”

“Dully noted. I’ll make efforts to woo you properly, I promise.”

You shied away a little, but he held you a little more tightly against him.

“What about a proper date though?” he asked, all traces of humour now gone from his voice. “Tomorrow night?”

You smiled up at him, nodding your head, before burying your face in his shoulder again, and he held you tightly against him in response.

Yeah, he truly was insufferable, without a doubt…

[luveline]

hey jade! i’m really going through it right now so was wondering if we could have something with eddie and roan? i love them

eddie and roan try to make you feel better after a strange day alone. (step) mom!reader, 1.5k

You don’t feel well, but you’re having a hard time articulating why that is. 

Maybe not having Eddie and Roan at home is throwing you off kilter. You don’t have reason anymore to be here without them. You wake up and leave while they’re still getting ready, and you get home after they're already home. If Roan is at her Uncle Wayne’s, Eddie’s begging for a date night or spending the weekend in your lap, and if Eddie’s with friends, Roan’s hanging off of you with a Barbie in hand. You’re used to having company. You love it. 

Your stomach aches at the thought of seeing them… You miss them, but it isn’t what’s making you feel so poorly. Life is just tough right now, it’s hard, and you’re tired. 

You curl up into the couch, the tight fabric of your work trousers stretched over the backs of your thighs. They aren’t used to this positioning. You’d change if you had the energy. 

“Watch the step,” Eddie says from outside. You scrunch up into yourself further, knowing you’ll have to explain why you’re home, and worse why you didn’t tell him you’ve been here all day. “Babe, every day! You come up these steps every day and you still don’t remember.” 

The babe in questions laughs at his light chastisement. “Well, sometimes it moves.” 

“Does not.”

“Does too.”

Eddie turns his key in the door and tries to open it. “Oh, what? Did I forget to lock the door?” 

Now is the least awkward time to confess. You force yourself to sit on the couch on your knees and look over the back of it, catching his attention as he opens the door. “Sorry, just me,” you say. 

Eddie takes Roan by the shoulder to direct her to you. “Hey, mom!” he says, surprised. 

“Mommy,” Roan says, chubby cheeks rounding as she smiles and drops her school bag on the floor. “What are you home for?” 

You sit down properly as they both enter the living room, arms already open in anticipation of Roan’s hug. She climbs into your lap shoes and all, her purple coat wet with the drizzle outside. “You’re so cold,” you worry, hugging her close to your chest. Her nose is pinking, her lips chapped. “Oh no, princess. The weather got you.” 

She laughs easily, sinking into your embrace. “It’s cold outside.”

“I can feel it on you. You need some chapstick.” 

She puckers for a kiss. You laugh and kiss her cheek as she kisses yours. 

Eddie takes his coat off and folds it over his arm. He smells like diesel immediately, oil staining his wrists and the thigh of his work pants, but he’s amazingly handsome, so you barely notice. “What are you doing home, lovely girl?” he asks, meeting your eyes over her mess of damp curls. 

It catches you off guard. Eddie is a solid babe guy. Babe, baby, bub. Sweetheart and sweet thing when he’s feeling brazen, but ‘lovely girl’ is rare. Pretty girl when he’s flirting, but lovely? He says it so softly, it falls off of his tongue, with the sort of gentleness he’d give Roan when she’s hurting. You must look more wounded than you thought. 

Your voice turns tight. “Um– uh.” You clear your throat, eyes widening as Eddie approaches, as he leans down to touch your cheek. “I–” You look between him and Roan, not wanting to upset her, but not being able to handle it internally. “Eddie.” 

“What?” he asks in concern. “What, Y/N?” He puts his hand on Roan’s shoulder, thumb quick to rub a soothing line. 

“I just don’t feel very well,” you say weirdly. 

You sound like you’re going to burst, they both hear that. You frown at Roan as she frowns at you, trying hard to fight back tears. “Sorry,” you say, touching her cheek with the back of your pinky. “Sorry, Ro, I’m okay.”

Eddie scoops Roan gently off of your lap and puts her in the seat beside you. “I’m sorry I’m so filthy,” he says, kneeling down in front of you, hands on your legs, “I don’t want to ruin your nice shirt.” He looks you in the eye. 

You shake your head. 

“Hey. Tell me.” He waits, as he always waits. You could tell him anything in the world right now and he’d make it better, because he’s been taking care of you for a long time. 

“I couldn’t face it.” 

Eddie catches the tear in your lashes before it can fall. “Couldn’t face what, sweetheart? Work?”

“I just didn’t want to do anything today.” 

“That’s okay. God, I wish you’d told me, but that’s okay!” He leans up for you, taking your face into his hands. “Is something wrong? You can tell me anything, sweetheart.” 

You close your eyes and let your face fall forward into his hands. Your lips part, but in place of the apology you’d meant to give falls a whining breath of air, a sudden dispelled panic. Things feel so awful, but he’s going to take care of you; your relief is an immensity off of your shoulders. 

“It’s okay,” he says, kissing your cheek, hands moving around to the back of your neck. He holds you in place. 

A small hand touches your back. “Yeah!” Roan says, patting you with a clumsiness that’s clearly meant to be gentle. “Don’t be sad, mom, please.” 

“I’m not,” you say uselessly. 

“It’s okay,” Eddie says again. “Roro, she’s not sad, she’s tired. We cry all the time when we’re tired, don’t we? She needs to lie down.” 

You laugh through your tears. There’s a sludgy headache behind your eyes and your throat aches —you really do want to lie down. 

“Sorry if I’m freaking you out,” you say. 

“You always freak me out,” Eddie says, “that’s your thing. You’re amazing.” 

You laugh-sob and force him into a hug that gets oil all over the side of your shirt. Eddie holds you without argument, without a hint of complaint. He just sits up on his knees even though it must hurt and covers up as much of you as he can with his arms, his hair all over your face, your breath damp and warming your skin where you're tucked into his front. “I should have called you this morning,” you say with a little sob.

“Yeah, babe, you should have, but it’s fine. We’re here now.” 

Roan stands on the couch, hugging your heads. “‘Xactly!” 

Eddie asks Roan to go and get changed. You see him winking from the corner of your eye, and Roan kisses you with a smacking, “Mwah!” before she does as he’s asked. From there, Eddie turns investigative. “What’s wrong?” he asks between kisses, the daintiest, softest kisses he’s ever given you as he rubs your tacky cheek. “Please tell me. You can’t just be by yourself all day when you don’t feel like yourself. You gotta keep me in the loop.” 

“I really didn’t mean to. I thought you’d still be here ‘cos I got to work and I turned straight back around but you’d already left, and then I kept wanting to call you but I didn’t know what to say. I just feel sick and everything is stressing me out.” 

“Okay,” he says, kissing you super, super softly before climbing onto his feet. “I’m gonna get your notepad and we’ll make a list. We’ll write it all down, and we’ll see what we can fix.” He smiles hopefully. “It might even be fun.” 

You lift your head and look at him, his lovely eyes creased with concern, his hair falling into his face, the dirt on his arms. He’s worked all day and now he’s taking care of you, even though you don’t know what’s wrong. 

You stand before he can get away from you and thrust your face into his chest, arms thrown behind him. “I’m so glad you’re home,” you say. 

Eddie covers the back of your neck, a smile evident in his tone, “I wish you would’ve called me.” 

Eddie encourages your head back, the two of you smiling at one another without worry. Eddie’s gonna write a list. You’re probably gonna sit in his lap while he does it. Things will be okay. 

Roan bumps down the stairs. “Mom, I have brought your pa-jamas.” 

“What about me?” Eddie asks. 

Roan shrugs. “I couldn’t reach them.” She hugs you around the thighs, your pyjama shirt slipping out of her hands. You can see now where she’s put her shirt on backwards, and lost a pony tail holder in the process of getting changed. 

“Wow, my big girl! You did it all by yourself!” 

She cuddles into your leg. “I know.” 

[lazycats-stuff]

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request Bruce x Bat Dad (and some bat fam)

What if reader knew about the darker things in the world like demons and horrors unimaginable from the time he was small and that's why he doesn't talk about things like growing up or his family.

What if reader gets captured by a cult that torture him in order to force reader to translate strange eldritch books and artifacts.

You can choose how long it takes for Bruce to find reader

(What if Bruce and the batfam find out that reader has been hunting and investigating the supernatural like a small base of operations that looks more like a library with hidden weapons)

Hi, I hope you have a good day or night too. Of course you can request. Hehe. Lets go. Also, I'm sorry for taking so long... I hope you like it! And yes, the ending may be rushed, but it's not that bad.

Summary: (Y/N) gets taken for his knowledge.

Warnings: cult, fight, implications of torture... Nothing is really direct per say.

(Y/N) sighed as he closed his old leather book. He wished he didn't have this knowledge, this... (Y/N) swallowed as he put his book back and left the room, closing the fake bookcase. He rubbed his face as he was tired from this life. He wished he didn't have this knowledge. He knows the things that would turn the world upside down.

He met with hell's worst demons and he saw some of the other unspeakable horrors. (Y/N) never had a good life. He grew up in a satanic cult, the one who was genuinely believing that Satan is coming and that they are going to be his loyal servants.

He was apparently marked by Satan when he was born, but then again, when you are in a cult, you believe what they tell you. (Y/N) escaped when he was 16 years old, running like the devil himself was chasing him. (Y/N) came to Gotham with only clothes on his back.

Soon he met a nice guy who helped him. (Y/N) is smart and intelligent and he managed to start high school. He graduated after 3 years and went on to study history and religion at college. He was always interested in those things and soon enough, he found himself working in a museum.

It was a nice change of pace for once. Learning about old things and older religions and he liked it when he could teach someone something new. Of course, he was vigilant of new people and people in general. He was careful when meeting someone new, hoping that the cult didn't go after him. He could only hope so.

Dating after being in a cult it's difficult. Always suspicious of any one coming into his life romantically. Men or women, being suspicious from the get go was a certified way to see if someone was from the cult. It was also one of the fastest ways to get your relationship destroyed.

Then Bruce Wayne came into his life.

It was a coincidence. Bruce saw an interesting exhibition and decided to treat Damian to a little treat. (Y/N) was making his way through the museum, just enjoying his day and making sure every visitor was taken care of. He saw Bruce and Damian, looking in confusion.

(Y/N) walked over and asked if everything was okay and the rest was history. He lead the two through the museum, enjoying the fact that Damian knew a lot about history and it was actually fun to debate a child who knew something over a fact.

Bruce was quiet, enjoying the tour and well... Love at first sight for Bruce. He was chatting with (Y/N) and saw how guarded he was. Sure, everyone is guarded around strangers, but this is a whole another level of being guarded.

Bruce was rather intrigued, but he didn't want to push any boundaries. So he left (Y/N) his number, saying no pressure to say yes, but do call.

To say (Y/N) was a nervous wreck is an understatement. What the hell was Bruce Wayne doing with him? Was he just looking for a one night stand? Or was just flirting to keep with the playboy persona? He came home and stared at the card for 10 minutes, thinking about it.

Should he?

Should he not?

You know what? He's not made from glass. He will go for it and whatever happens, happens. He texted Bruce, he wasn't really brave enough to call. He really wasn't.

He jumped when he saw that Bruce responded.

To cut a very long story short, Bruce and (Y/N) are together to this day. The date went very well and (Y/N) was happy for the first time. He has never been happier. Together with a man who loves him and the kids who love him.

(Y/N) may love the kids more than Bruce, but Bruce won't complain. Anyone who accepted his kids, he was more than happy and if that person loved the kids more than Bruce...

Of course, in platonic way.

But there was something that bothered the family, well, not bothered, but it was interesting to them. It was (Y/N)'s past. It was something he hid and refused to talk about. He would get closed off and cold and soon enough they learnt to not ask about it.

Of course, in a family full of detectives, they wanted to investigate, but they knew that they shouldn't have because it was an invasion of privacy. So, they have decided to leave (Y/N)'s past alone.

Also, one thing that they loved about (Y/N) was the fact that he was teaching them history, something they all loved. Jason was a fan of Egypt and Sumerians. Dick loved European history, more so medieval times. Tim loved the Enigma and the making of a first computer?

And Damian? World War Two and Arabic history.

Alfred loved (Y/N) too and he would love nothing more for Bruce to marry that man. God knows that this household needs another emotionally stable person. Somewhat...

Alfred was not the one to complain.

He saw how (Y/N) and Bruce complimented one another and Bruce gave (Y/N) a push to write his book about history of religion. (Y/N) has always wanted to write that and Bruce gave him a push he needed. But not financially.

(Y/N) said he would do it all on his own. Bruce had no problem with that statement. He agreed to not pull connections with anyone or any publishing house. But he wasn't against getting (Y/N) his materials. He had no problem delivering the materials right to his door or at his work.

(Y/N) knew that Bruce was Batman so he knew that Bruce was in front of his apartment or in his office. (Y/N) enjoyed and was happy to see them.

(Y/N) entered his apartment and went to the kitchen. He was completely oblivious to the fact that there was a dark figure in his living room. (Y/N) took a sip of the water before he heard a creak on the floor board. He acted like it was nothing before throwing the glass in the direction on the sound. He hit the figure and (Y/N) grabbed a knife.

(Y/N) watched as the figure doubled down in pain, before recovering. The figure has stepped into the light and (Y/N) recognized the face.

" You motherfucker... " (Y/N) said as he gripped the handle of the knife tighter.

" That's no way to talk to your leader. " The deep male voice said and (Y/N) sized him up.

Maybe he can make it out. But the leader is strong and full of muscles. He has to evade him. Somehow.

That plan went down to shit when he saw two more figures. Sure, the leader needs to have protection. (Y/N) glanced between the trio. Someone is going to attack first.

Which one is the question.

(Y/N) ducked a punch and tried to stab the incoming one, but he was hurled over the couch, taking it with him. (Y/N) grunted as he hit the floor and he stood up after a few moments. He didn't have his knife with him.

Shit.

He nearly died when there was a fourth figure picking him up, before throwing him into his glass coffee table. (Y/N) grunted as he hit his head. He hissed as he tried to get up, but a kick to his face sent him flying back and he was dazed.

" I'm not coming with you. " (Y/N) said as he wiped the blood from his face.

" Oh you are. We know you can translate the demon transcriptions. And we need those translations. " The leader said and (Y/N) glared at them.

He won't go out without a fight.

" You are outnumbered. There is no way out. " The leader said and (Y/N) glanced at the other two. They were blocking the exit. They only way is to fight out or at least try.

But there was no weapon in sight. So he was screwed. Kicking and punching his way out can only take him so far.

But he had to try.

So he did just that. He tried to fight, but he was punched in the jaw quickly that he was nearly knocked. He fell down, hitting his head hard once more.

His vision was swimming and he couldn't see who was where anymore. His only hope now was Bruce. He knew Bruce would drop by later in the night and that he would find him. Bruce would never stop looking for him.

The kiddos too...

His jaw got punched once more and he blacked out. Now the cult had him where they wanted him. They could do what they pleased.

And if that meant torture... Well, then so be it.

Two fucking months. Bruce was losing his mind as he was looking for his boyfriend. He was horrified when he learnt of (Y/N)'s past, who wouldn't be terrified? Learning and growing up in a cult?

Bruce remembers the first time he entered the apartment and he will always wonder about a lot of things. More so that (Y/N) is somewhat normal.

Bruce was shocked that (Y/N) turned out normal. The trauma he must have went through... He was even more shocked when they found out the secret library in his apartment... Bruce had to call John Constantine to see what the hell was happening here.

John knew exactly what this was. (Y/N) was a hunter who hunted demons and banished them back to hell. Bruce was officially in the dark now. His beloved, his significant other was a hunter? Who went after demons?

Bruce didn't know how the hell he was going to explain this to his kids. How can you explain something like this? Bruce analyzed every part of the apartment, trying to figure out what happened.

He saw that (Y/N) had a knife, but was threw around the room. Then he was put through his glass coffee table. Bruce sighed quietly as John looked through the books.

" This is an amazing collection. " John commented as he looked through the books and the weapons.

" Is that really important right now? " Bruce snapped at the man and John just shrugged his shoulders.

" I guess not, but I know people who would kill for this collection. Bruce, he has knowledge of the single handedly one of the most ancient languages in the world. I can only count people on one hand that know this language. " John explained.

Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

" I think I know why they kidnapped your partner. " John said as he picked up a book. Bruce raised his brow in question.

" The cult that took him wanted some translations it seems. " John said as he opened and old, leather bound book, more interested in the book at the moment.

" That's not good. I'm assuming he will resist... They are going to torture him. " Bruce said solemnly, eyes darting around the apartment.

" We will put the bookshelf the way it was. Maybe they were after the books and weapons. " Bruce said and John sighed as he put the book where he found it and then did what Bruce asked from him.

From that day, two months passed. Bruce and everyone else worked tirelessly to find their favorite person. Bruce his boyfriend, soon to be a fiancé, the boys their second dad, one that is more emotionally open and Alfred needed one person who is going to be somewhat normal.

Bruce nearly jumped out of his skin when he got a location. They boys and him piled into the batmobile and drove as fast as the car allowed it.

To say that they had to fight their way in was an understatement. Alfred was anxiously waiting in the cave.

Bruce nearly died when he saw (Y/N). Bloodied, bruised... Bruce didn't want to know the specifics. He picked his beloved up and moved to the car and he made sure to call the SWAT team from GCPD, alongside a few more organizations.

The cult deserves it, okay? Was he over reacting? Maybe.

But that didn't matter now. What mattered is the fact that (Y/N) is taken care of and is alive and well.

To say he drove like a madman... Would be the biggest understatement of the century. Once they came, they rushed their favorite person to Alfred.

Time was of the essence.

Bruce waited for his boys to finish talking to their second dad. (Y/N) had awoken and although still weak, he still talked to his sons. After 20 minutes, Bruce ushered them out, making them all protest a bit, but in the end they knew that they need to go.

Jason hugged his dad, very carefully and left. Dick kissed his dad's cheek and Tim squeezed his hand. Damian hugged his second dad before leaving and the two partners are soon left alone.

" I'm sorry for not telling you the truth... But it was too difficult. " (Y/N) said and Bruce kissed his cheek softly.

" Don't apologize. I understand that. "

" I'm assuming you found my base? " (Y/N) asked and Bruce nodded.

" John said you have a collection people would kill for... This is such shit timing, but would you like to move in? " Bruce said and (Y/N) snorted, but stopped because of his ribs.

" Yes, I would love nothing more. "

Bruce kissed (Y/N)'s cheek again. " Good. I'll leave you to rest. "

" Can you stay with me? "

Bruce smiled and nodded, changing into his PJs before gently laying down next to (Y/N), wrapping him into blankets and the two quickly feel asleep.

The two were finally reunited.

[dadbodbuck]

fine, you've forced my hand!

It’s by some miracle that Buck doesn’t show his hand the instant he turns on the lights to see him sitting in the corner chair of his hotel room.

“They’ve got you in some pretty shitty digs, Evan,” he says, and Buck fights tooth and screaming nail to hold onto his composure. “Nash so low on funds he had to put you up in a crusty motel?”

“Agent 217,” Buck says, hand itching for his comm. He knows better, knows that 217 has his service weapon tucked neatly away in a holster at his side, knows he’d be dead before he could click on to make the call. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Please, call me Tommy,” 217 says with an innocent, dashing grin, even inch the handsome James Bond everyone assumes Buck must be. “You have something I want.”

“Like we’ll ever tell you anything,” Buck scoffs, “You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

217—Tommy, and why would he give Buck a name to call him?—stands, and stalks over. “Who says I’m after information?”

Buck swallows, tensing himself for a fight. “So, what, this is a hit? Are you here to gloat?”

Tommy continues walking, appraising Buck where he stands in his unassuming civvies. Jean jacket, cotton tee, khakis, tennis shoes. Compared to Tommy’s government-issued slacks, crisp button-down, and polished shoes, Buck feels a little underdressed. He glances down as Tommy rounds his back and leans forward to whisper. “You were at the boardwalk tonight. I know what Nash is after. Going up against the entire establishment, Evan? That’s a suicide mission.”

And—okay. Contrary to popular belief, being a spy (“Intelligence Agent,” Bobby always insists) doesn’t get him laid all the time. He’s actually been going through a bit of a dry spell, with the recent push towards leaking the project they’d been a part of before they went rogue. They just need a little more information, a little more time. Point being, it’s been a fucking goddamn minute, and 217 is smoking. Curly hair, slate gray eyes that sparkle with dry wit, pearly white smile that is condescending, maybe, but in a way that gets Buck’s dick standing at attention. Broad shoulders, big arms, solid muscle. He could bend Buck completely in half, if he so desired. And God, Buck desires.

“Sorry,” Buck blinks, while Tommy smiles his little Cheshire Cat grin, “What was the question?”

“Oh, I’m not here for questions,” Tommy murmurs, hands slipping over Buck’s hips. “I’ve seen the way you watch me, Evan. You’re not exactly subtle. It’s a wonder Nash still employs you.”

“I’m not hooking up with a fucking Fed,” Buck says, even as he gasps with the way Tommy leans down to mouth at his neck.

“Kinda sounds like you are,” Tommy grins, obnoxiously smug, “Besides, weren’t you a fucking Fed three years ago?”

“People change,” Buck says mindlessly, “Fuck, touch me.”

“As you wish,” Tommy replies, sounding affected for the first time that night. Buck catches a glimpse of them in the standing mirror in the entryway, sees the way Tommy’s eyes are blown dark over his shoulder. Watches his hand snake down his front, gently palm over the (frankly, humiliating) bulge in his pants.

Buck wishes he could say it felt like nothing. It would be so nice to be disappointed by Tommy’s touch, when he hates the guy with a burning passion. Unfortunately for Buck’s pride, it’s electric. Tommy’s hand is firm and warm on his dick, even through the layers of fabric.

“They told me about your reputation,” Tommy breathes, “Told me about Agent Buckley, back in the day, sleeping with marks more often than tailing them.”

Okay, so maybe sometimes being a spy got him laid. “It was very effective,” Buck says defensively, “Got a lot of good intel. Why, you want to see what all the fuss was about?”

“You know what they say about curiosity and cats,” Tommy muses, “And satisfaction bringing them back.”

Buck hums, and loses the last tenuous grip on his dignity. “I could blow you.”

“You mean I’d get a blowjob and spared the sound of your voice?” Tommy says, pressing a little harsher into Buck’s clothed dick, delicious friction pushing a moan out of Buck’s mouth. “Is there a downside?”

“Your dick will be extremely close to my teeth,” Buck returns, “And I don’t want you to come down my throat. I want you to fuck me.”

“All you had to do was ask,” Tommy simpers, before dropping his saccharine tone for a bossy: “Now get on your fucking knees.”

And, really, who told him that Buck’s favorite part of his 1.0 phase was when his marks would boss him around? Against his will, his knees give out, and he drops down, watching himself kneel in front of Tommy before reluctantly breaking eye contact with the mirror, shuffling around to a face full of tented polyester.

“You’re so fucking obnoxious,” Buck says, even as he leans forward to run his tongue along the outline of Tommy’s cock. It’s mouth-watering.

“I thought the point of sucking cock was to have your mouth occupied,” Tommy scoffs, hand fisting Buck’s hair a little meanly. Buck wishes he could stop another moan from spilling out of his mouth, but the pain hits him just right.

With fingers that are still thankfully on board with what he’s doing, Buck deftly undoes Tommy’s belt buckle, unzips his pants, and marvels at the thick, long cock that he pulls from his boxers. Oh, he’s going to have so much fun with this. He licks up the underside of Tommy’s dick, slow and wet, and revels in the way his hand tightens in his hair.

It’s like riding a bike, or something, probably. Buck finds himself sucking on the head of Tommy’s cock like he was born for it, bobbing his head down the length of him, letting the filthy, wet, clicking noise of his throat echo around the hotel room. It must be like riding a bike, because the other option is that Buck really did need Tommy this bad. And it can’t be that. Bobby would skin him alive.

“Jesus,” Tommy swears, hips hitching into Buck’s mouth. It’s almost like he’s trying to hold back for Buck’s sake, which is… cute. Certainly nicer treatment than he’s used to, but he can’t decide whether that’s a good thing or not.

Either way, he can’t handle tenderness. Not now, and maybe not ever. He doesn’t get to have attachments. That much is clear. He sees the way Eddie and Hen and Chim worry over their loved ones. This way is better. He’s already got Christopher and Maddie and Jee-yun to worry about.

Buck pulls off Tommy’s cock with a loud pop. “You can fuck my throat. It’s okay. I won’t break.”

“I hate to think of what your team would do to me if I broke their favorite toy,” Tommy chuckles, “Especially Diaz. I hear he’s creative.”

“Do me a favor and don’t mention him with your dick next to my face,” Buck rolls his eyes, desperately ignoring the way his dick twitches at the mention of Eddie’s name, “I’ll be fine. Take me for a ride. I know you want to.”

“Oh, you’re gagging for it,” Tommy surmises, guiding his cock back to Buck’s mouth. Buck, unable to deny it, willingly goes down on Tommy, letting him set the pace as he fucks leisurely into Buck’s mouth.

Tommy pushes him down further, and Buck relaxes into it, until he can feel the warmth of Tommy’s hip where his nose pushes into soft flesh. “Holy shit,” Tommy says, “I’m starting to get why this was so effective, I think.”

Buck stays until black spots start dancing at the corners of his eyes, pulling back and heaving breath, and then returning to his spot with Tommy’s cock all the way down his throat. It’s alarmingly comfortable. For the first time since his team went AWOL, he wishes he wasn’t in too deep to quit. He could spend an entire lifetime sitting at Tommy’s feet with his dick choking him stupid.

He gets maybe three more off-breath-down reps in before Tommy is pulling him off by the hair. “Okay, if you still want me to fuck you, we have to take this elsewhere.”

“Yeah, I want,” Buck croaks, voice alarmingly fucked out. Tommy helps him up—strangely chivalrous for a man who has tried on multiple occasions to shoot him with a gun—and they tumble into bed together. If it weren’t for the fact of who both of them were, it might even be romantic.

Tommy has his mouth on Buck before he can get another word in edgewise. Buck starts scrambling to get the rest of their clothes off, and shirts, pants, underwear, and shoes end up scattered around the room.

“Lube? Condoms?” Tommy asks as Buck bites at the junction of his neck and jaw.

“Side table,” Buck says, “You don’t have to use a condom. I haven’t had sex in a while.”

“Poor thing,” Tommy says, faux-pitying, as he rifles through the drawer of the side table, “You must be so pent up.”

Honestly, Buck’s just used to his marks not wanting to use condoms, and dealing with the potential fallout later. Still, he’s kind of disappointed when Tommy pulls them out of the drawer along with the lube packets.

“You’re adorable when you pout,” Tommy grins, pressing a sickly sweet kiss to Buck’s cheek, “I’m using a condom.”

“Fine,” Buck huffs, rolling his hips up into Tommy’s, “Just hurry.”

Tommy, thankfully, wastes no time in emptying a lube packet into his hand and swiping it up against Buck’s hole, slicking the way for his fingers. He’s clearly no slouch at this, either, thick fingers deftly opening him up beneath him, forearm muscles flexing so deliciously.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-fuck-fuck,” Buck says, squirming as Tommy slides his fingers in and out in intoxicating rhythm, “Fuck me, Tommy, Tommy—”

“Finally, you’re saying something worth listening to,” Tommy smiles against Buck’s neck, “Never thought I’d get to hear the great Evan Buckley beg for my cock.”

“It’s—ah—it’s a specialty,” Buck pants, rolling his hips as he aches for more, for a harsh little sting, for something to distract him from the way this is starting to feel too much like intimacy and not enough like fucking.

“Maybe I’d like to hear some more,” Tommy says, pulling away to roll a condom on and slick himself up.

Buck, suddenly cold and empty, lets the words fall unabashed from his mouth. “Oh, please, Tommy, I’ll make it so good for you, it’ll feel so good, just need you in me, just need—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Tommy says, just on the wrong side of tender, “I know what you need. Hold still for me.”

And then there’s the thick press of Tommy’s cock against Buck’s hole. Tommy slips in with a stretch that has Buck mewling something embarrassing in the back of his throat, and leans forward as he slides deeper, inch-by-burning-inch, encouraged by the way Buck grips at his biceps.

“Breathe,” Tommy says as he bottoms out, at which point Buck realizes he’s been stuck with his head tipped back and mouth open. He sucks in a gasping breath, relaxing under Tommy’s bulk. Tommy is warm above him again, haloed by the dim hotel light, so close Buck can feel his breath on his cheek.

“Move,” Buck demands, squirming. Tommy seems only too happy to oblige, mouth finding Buck’s again as he starts to roll his hips into him. It’s a slow, languid fuck, but still enough to have Buck seeing stars.

“This how you got all those people to tell you what they were up to?” Tommy asks, a hand roaming down to pinch Buck’s nipple, coaxing a groan out of him. “You’d just lay here all pretty and let them take what they wanted?”

“Nnnnngh—usually they wanted me on top,” Buck says around a reedy moan, “But yeah, that’s the general idea.”

“You take it so well,” Tommy murmurs, snapping his hips in with just a little more force, “Makes me wonder how many times you’ve done this before. How many times you begged on your knees—how many times you’ve been a slut for terrible people.”

“You’re in perfectly fine company, I can assure you,” Buck says, trying to regain some of his composure, “Art thieves, mob bosses, hackers. You work with monsters every day, why can’t I sleep with them?”

“I’ll have you know that the monsters I work with are working for the greater good,” Tommy says, with a huffed laugh, “And if you keep talking about them I’m not going to let you finish.”

“Oh, you’re not going to let me?” Buck says, “I’ll have you know I’m perfectly capable of taking what I want, too.”

“I’m sure you are, stud,” Tommy says, in that same condescending tone of voice that goes right to Buck’s dick. He fucks into him harder, right at the perfect angle, and Buck can’t help the pathetic moan that spills out of his mouth.

“You—were—talking—a little—too much,” Tommy grunts between thrusts, slamming into Buck again, and again, “Just lay back—and fucking take it.”

Like Buck could ever want to do anything else. He’s well aware of the fucked-out little uh, uh, uh noises that Tommy’s forcing out of him, but he’s far too gone to be embarrassed about it. This is the best fuck he’s had in years, he could care less what he sounds like or looks like right now.

Not that Tommy seems to mind. If anything, given the way he’s latched onto Buck’s neck like a goddamn vampire, he likes that Buck’s a writhing mess beneath him. Buck’s nerves are lit up, from the pain of Tommy’s less-than-gentle biting, from the way Tommy nails Buck’s prostate with every thrust, from the skin-on-skin he hasn’t had in so long.

His orgasm sneaks up on him. Usually, he’s a lot better about announcing it, giving his partners time to decide what they want, but Tommy is—Tommy is grunting and his back muscles are flexing under Buck’s fingers and his cock fills him so beautifully and Buck didn’t even think he could come without something on his dick, but—

Belatedly, as Buck rockets towards the clouds, he realizes that maybe there is something special about Agent 217. 

Buck comes down slowly, to the feeling of hands gently petting his sides, and a softening dick sliding out of his ass. It’s gross, leaves him feeling sticky and a little used, but he can’t bring himself to care that much about it at all. To his complete shock, he feels Tommy rummaging around for something, and then the soft cotton of his shirt wiping the cum off of his stomach, and the lube from his ass.

“It’s okay, Evan,” Tommy says, gentle, soft, “You can rest.”

Buck, despite every ounce of self-preservation that says he’s leaving himself completely vulnerable, does.

He wakes to an empty room. Nothing seems amiss, so despite the deep humiliation and regret, Buck packs his things (luckily, finding his hiding spots untouched) and heads back to the rendezvous point.

Athena is waiting for him at the café, in streetwear that looks unnaturally casual on her. “Got everything?”

“Check and check,” Buck says, handing her the dossier, “Got some lovely pictures. The sunset was especially gorgeous last night.”

“You sound like you could use a tea with lemon and honey,” Athena winces, “You coming down with something?”

“No,” Buck says, fighting against the urge to flush.

Athena passes him a knowing smile over her coffee. “Thanks for this, Buck. I’ll let Bobby know you came through, and he’ll want to meet with you later. I think we’re getting close.”

“Good,” Buck sighs, “I can’t wait for this whole mess to be over. I never thought I’d say this, but it would be nice to do some paperwork for once.”