#really tapping into some embarrassing shows here

[rainingfknhard]

Man in the Woods (2)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

˖ ࣪⭑ wc: 1.1k

˖ ࣪⭑ previous part here

It was a bit awkward. You weren’t really scared anymore, your fight or flight dying off soon after you entered his place. Of course, you were a little worried about the other men he worked with but you weren’t scared of him.

The only transportation he had at the moment was a small dirt bike. He didn’t explain why he didn’t have a car, and you didn’t ask. But there’s no way the bike was safe during this weather, or big enough for both of you to ride it. It barely looked big enough for the grown man who took you in.

He didn’t have a TV; just a small radio that played quietly on some rock station. You tried to scroll on your phone, but the service was terrible, and he refused to give you the wifi password.

“Whats’s your name?” Well, someone had to break the silence. You were just glad it was him.

“Y/N. You?”

He hesitated for a second, shifting uncomfortably, “Ghost.”

“Ghost?” You ask and he bows his head. “Ghost. I appreciate you.. saving me. Is there anything I can do for you? You literally saved my life.”

He stared at you. “Just get home safe.”

“I will.” You smiled lightly.

He fidgeted in his chair, changing the topic “Have to be in bed at 10pm. Don’t turn on any lights. Can’t risk anyone seeing you. I’ll get in trouble. A shit ton of trouble.”

“Okay. Got it. No roaming about after 10.” You waited before continuing, “Can I ask you something?” You tapped your feet on the floor.

“Dunno if I’ll answer, but go ahead.” He replied, stern.

“Why are you wearing that mask?”

“Don’t wanna show my face.” His voice was harsh.

“Okay... Sorry if that was rude.”

“Wasn’t rude.”

There was a moment of silence before your stomach growled loudly. You placed your hand on it in embarrassment. “Oh my gosh.” You whispered. “Sorry.”

“Hungry?” He asked, standing up. “And stop apologizing.”

“I brought food.” You attempted to stand and grab your bag, but stopped when he put his hand out, signaling you to keep sitting.

“I have food.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

He walked over to his fridge and you properly took in the sight of him. Tall, buff, pretty eyes from what you could see of them. Everything else was covered.

“I can make some chicken and rice.”

“That sounds great.” Truthfully, anything he would’ve suggested, you would’ve said sounded great.

He started cooking, putting the rice on the stove and preparing the chicken.

Even though you couldn’t really see him, the sight of this big, rugged masked man in military gear cooking you dinner made your heart thump heavily.

You two ate dinner without conversing. The radio made the silence between you less awkward. Both of you kept stealing glances at each other. You almost felt like he could sense how you felt about him… Maybe, he felt the same towards you, too? But that’s ridiculous, you don’t even know each other.

You finished your food fast, as if you hadn’t eaten in days.

“You were starving, huh?” It wasn’t a joke, almost like he was worried by how hungry you were. “I have some leftovers if you’re still hungry.”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks!”

He eyed you, not fully believing your comment. “What’d you even pack for a full day of hiking?”

“Um.. A granola bar.. A banana.. Water..” You trailed off.

“That’s no where near enough food, love.”

Love.

A nickname that probably meant absolutely nothing to him, but made your cheeks flush red.

“Yeah, I guess I wasn’t as properly prepared as I thought I was.”

“I could’ve told you that, considering you ended up hiking on a military base.”

You snort out a laugh, but he wasn’t kidding. “Yeah. Think I’ll stick to swimming in my neighborhood pool for exercise.”

“Probably best.” He checked his watch, 9:39pm. “It’s getting late. C’mon, I’ll get you set up in the bed.”

“Oh, no! I’m fine with the couch.”

“I’m not fine with that. You’ll be taking the bed.” He gave you no choice but to agree. You followed him down the very short hallway to the bedroom. It was tiny, just a small bed in the opposite corner, a mirror, and a tall chest of drawers. You looked at the bed and wondered how he even fit— it looked child sized. Did they even make something smaller than a twin size mattress?

He went to the drawers, and pulled out a tee shirt of his and a pair of sweatpants. “Here.” He handed them to you, before pulling out another set for him to sleep in.

“Bathrooms across the hall if you need it. Again, just don’t turn on any lights.”

“Got it… Thank you again.”

He nods, backing out the door and closing it. You stripped yourself, changing into his way-too-big clothes. The scent of his cologne was faint, but comforting.

The weather hadn’t died down, in fact it had only gotten worse. Thunder and lightning not taking any breaks. However, this was the best weather to sleep in, as far as you were concerned.

So, why couldn’t you sleep?

Was it because you’re in an unfamiliar environment with a masked stranger?

Nope. Definitely not… You thought, sarcastically.

You played some music from your phone softly. Thankfully you had downloaded a full playlist for the hike, so you didn’t need internet. You counted 24 songs before getting interrupted.

Loud bangs on the front door startled you. You could just barely hear the man yelling for Ghost.

Just like that, the masked man appeared in the doorway.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lay back down. Get under the duvet.” He strutted over to you, closing the gap in two big strides. “Sometimes the bossman does room checks, as if we’re fucking teenagers..”

You don’t think he meant to say that last part out loud.

“Coming in!” You heard the man outside, as he yelled even louder to be heard over the storm.

“Move over, keep your head down. Don’t move.” He whispered, as he slid under the covers. His warm body met your frigid one, warming you up unintentionally. He positioned his leg so it was on top of yours, attempting to hide you.

Boots stomped down the hall, “Ghost? Call out.

“Yes sir.” He faked a grogginess in his voice.

“Why r’you wearing your mask to sleep?”

“Accident.”

“Alright. Was just making sure everything is good here.”

“Yes sir.”

“Sleep in tomorrow, okay? Til 0800.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Night.”

The unnamed man disappeared, slamming the front door behind him. Ghost, still laying in bed, flipped the duvet over so he could see your face.

“Are you alright?” You could tell he was worried, though his voice was unwavering.

“Mhm. Just a little shaken up..”

“Sorry about that, love.”

He goes to get up from his spot and head back to the couch.

“Wait.”

He stops and turns, looking back at you.

“Could you.. stay with me?” You felt silly even asking, definitely expecting him to say no.

In actuality, he didn’t say anything. He just returned to his position under the blanket. Because of the size of the bed, he pulled you slightly on top of him, you cuddling his chest, legs intertwined.

“This is what you wanted, yeah?”

“Mhmm.” You hummed, already drifting into sleep.

[nuelles]

Taken, Thanks || Spencer Agnew

Summary: Being Ian Hecox’s assistant means wrangling calendars, dodging glitter explosions, and putting out fires—metaphorical and otherwise. But when a smarmy investor starts flirting a little too hard, Spencer finds himself stepping in with soft, possessive boyfriend energy. Add some cast-wide chaos and Ian’s deadpan justice? You’re in for a hell of a Tuesday. (Yes, Spencer still wins. No, Bradley never stood a chance.)

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x f!reader

Tropes: Protective boyfriend, Jealous but respectful, Chaos Cast Support

Warnings: Mild workplace harassment (non-physical flirting, inappropriate persistence by a male investor toward the reader), Swearing & sarcasm (light/moderate), Fluff, light comedy, mild secondhand embarrassment

WC: 2.6K

Author's Note: Not a lot of Spencer in this one lol, but I might make this a mini series, might not, we will see.

You were halfway through color-coding Ian’s week when the glass door opened, and your day instantly worsened.

He walked in like he’d been practicing it: smooth gait, tailored navy blazer, no visible socks. The kind of guy who wore a watch specifically to show off that he didn’t need a smartwatch to stay on top of things—he had people for that. And apparently, today? You were one of them.

“Hi there,” he said, flashing teeth so white they were probably copyrighted. “You must be the one who keeps the circus from catching fire.”

You didn’t even look up from your monitor. “That’s the goal.”

He leaned a forearm on your desk like this was a sales convention and not a functioning content studio. “I’m Bradley. Strategic investments. Ian said I should ‘shadow the workflow’ today, but I’m really just here to see the talent in action.”

You finally looked up. “You’ll want the bullpen, then. Back hallway, third left.”

“Oh, I’m in no rush,” he said smoothly, eyes sweeping your desk. “Besides… I think I already found the real star.”

You wanted to roll your eyes, but needed to stay professional, so all you did was blink at him. “That line works on other assistants?”

He chuckled. “You’re funny. And quick. A deadly combo.”

“I prefer ‘highly scheduled and politely impatient.’”

He laughed again—too loud, too rehearsed. “What’s your name?”

You gave it. You couldn’t come up with a good and professional reason not to. And you regretted it instantly.

Mistake #1: Eye contact.

Mistake #2: Letting him know you had a name.

“Well, Y/N,” he said, drawing out the syllables like he’d invented them. “Have you ever considered scaling your role? With your skill set, I could see you running entire teams.”

“I’m already running one,” you said, tapping your tablet. “Smosh.”

“Touché,” he said, unbothered. “But if you’re ever looking for a more… refined environment—one with perks, bonuses, corner offices—I’d be happy to discuss it. Maybe over lunch?”

There it was. The smile. The lean. The casual, calculated suggestion. ugh

You didn’t flinch. “Thanks, but I’m happy where I am. Especially with my boyfriend dropping off coffee and cat memes every morning.”

Bradley raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” You smiled tightly. “Big fan of hoodies. Great jawline. Plays weird little games for a living.”

He tilted his head like he was trying to solve a puzzle he didn’t like the answer to. “So… he’s talent?”

“Yep.”

“And you’re not worried about mixing business and pleasure?”

You tilted your head right back. “Not when the business respects me. And the pleasure has manners.”

A flicker passed across his face—too quick to call offense, too practiced to be real. But you saw it.

He gave a tight smile. “Point taken. But if you ever change your mind…”

You didn’t let him finish.

“I don’t plan to.”

You didn’t even have to say anything. By hour two, the entire cast and crew had clocked Bradley’s vibe—and they were not impressed.

Courtney popped her head into the hallway just as Bradley leaned over your desk for the third time that hour.

“Wow,” she said loudly, “do investor bros always hover, or is this a custom feature?”

Bradley straightened, flashing a smile. “Just taking an interest in the workflow. You all run a tight ship.”

Courtney looked at you. You gave her your best please don’t commit violence face.

She raised both hands and walked off muttering, “Tight ship, my ass.”

Next came Damien.

You were trying to update the equipment checklist on your tablet when he strolled by, wearing sunglasses indoors and carrying a prop flaming sword over his shoulder.

He paused.

Squinted at Bradley.

Turned to you and asked, “Is this guy bothering you?”

You didn’t look up. “I’m fine.” You were getting good at ignoring the man's—the boys'—presence.

He pointed the sword at Bradley and said, “Just say the word, and he gets a two-minute head start.”

Bradley blinked. “I’m sorry—what?”

Damien grinned. “Oh, I wasn’t talking to you.”

Bradley scurried off—temporarily, at least.

You sighed and leaned your head against the wall.

A few minutes later, Shayne appeared at your desk, holding two LaCroix cans like peace offerings.

He handed one over. “So. Our new corporate overlord is gross.”

“I’m handling it,” you muttered, cracking the can open.

“I know,” Shayne said. “You’re doing great. But also—if you want me to spill something on him accidentally, I’m clumsy.”

You arched a brow. “Are you offering me… a staged workplace soda accident?”

“Two,” he said, holding up his other can. “One for the shoes, one for the watch.”

You laughed, finally—short and sharp. “Tempting.”

Shayne leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Spencer knows yet?”

“No. He’s filming. And I don’t want him to spiral into ‘protective golden retriever’ mode.”

“I give it twenty minutes,” Shayne said.

And he was off by about five.

Spencer wasn’t the most observant person in the building.

He got distracted easily—by snack tables, rogue sound guys, and whatever the hell Damien was doing with that fog machine last week. But when it came to you? He didn’t miss much.

So the moment he stepped into the bullpen that afternoon, iced coffee in one hand and hoodie sleeve pushed up the other, he spotted you.

Specifically, you, standing near the shoot schedule wall. And Bradley—standing way too close, with that fake laugh Spencer already hated and a shirt that looked like it cost more than Spencer’s entire closet.

Bradley was leaning in, saying something. You had your tablet held like a shield. Your face wore that polite, I’m tolerating this so I don’t get sued smile.

Spencer’s stomach dropped.

He crossed the room in five slow steps, weaving past Courtney and Arasha mid-conversation. Shayne caught his eye. Raised an eyebrow. Almost as if to say I’ve got your back, Spencer just nodded once and kept walking.

Calm. Easy. But close enough to let the guy know, you’re not alone.

“Hey, babe,” Spencer said, voice soft as he stepped behind you, one hand sliding instinctively to your lower back. “You good?”

You looked up, and your smile instantly turned real.

“Yeah. Just finalizing timing for the B-studio block.”

Spencer nodded, but his eyes didn’t leave Bradley.

The guy looked between you both, blinking.

“Sorry,” Bradley said slowly. “You two are…?”

“Dating,” you answered quickly, professional tone never slipping. “Have been for a while.”

Spencer added, with a perfectly polite smile, “Long enough to know she hates being called ‘assistant of the year.’”

Bradley’s grin stiffened. “Right. Well. Good for you two.”

“Thanks,” you said lightly. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a location conflict to fix.”

Bradley took a deliberate step back. “Of course.”

Spencer held your gaze as you turned, guiding you by the hand toward the side hallway.

The second you were out of earshot, you exhaled.

“Okay, that was subtle. Ish.”

Spencer squinted. “Did he really call you assistant of the year?” Asking about the text you had sent him during one of your breaks.

You nodded.

“And try to ask you to lunch?”

You nodded again.

Spencer blinked. “I’m going to pour LaCroix in his briefcase.”

You snorted. “Please don’t. Ian still needs to fire him gently.”

Spencer tilted his head. “...What if I just gently knock over a bottle near it?”

You bumped his shoulder. “Just be here. That’s more than enough.”

He smiled then, soft and slow and only for you. “Always.”

By late afternoon, things had reached peak tension. The vibe was dead. Not just off—dead.

Everyone was avoiding the common areas. Damien had “accidentally” moved his shoot to the other side of the building. Courtney had taken her laptop outside. You, stuck at your desk near Ian’s office, were once again being treated to Bradley’s thoughts on “audience expansion” and how “Smosh had potential—it just needed direction.”

You were moments away from faking an emergency fire drill when Ian’s door creaked open.

“Hey,” he called to you, voice deceptively casual. “Mind stepping in for a sec?”

Bradley, ever the opportunist, started to follow.

Ian held up a hand without looking. “Just her.”

The door shut behind you with a soft click.

Ian was standing by his desk, arms folded. His expression was unreadable—but you’d worked with him long enough to recognize that tight-jawed calm. It was the calm right before a storm. Or a corporate takedown.

“I’ve made a decision,” he said.

You raised a brow. “About Bradley?”

Ian’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Yeah. I’m done watching that guy flirt with you like he’s trying to win a prize on The Price Is Right.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed.

Ian smirked. “I’ve seen that look on your face. You’ve been walking on eggshells for four hours. Not because you can’t handle him, but because you’re too professional to make a scene.”

You shrugged. “Someone’s gotta be.”

“Well, good news,” Ian said, sitting on his chair and already opening his laptop. “I’m not.” He sent you on your way, and as you walked in, Bradley took that opportunity to send a wink at you as he walked into Ian’s office.

Bradley had spent the better part of thirty minutes trying to corner Ian in his office with phrases like “brand synergy” and “scalable verticals.” Ian, to his credit, hadn’t lit anything on fire. Yet.

From your desk outside the office, you heard it: the signature sigh. The one Ian only made when someone pitched NFTs or called him Mr. Smosh.

“Okay,” Ian said finally. “You know what? Let’s cut to the chase.”

Bradley’s voice stayed smooth. “Of course.”

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Ian said flatly.

A beat of silence. Then Bradley: “Excuse me?”

Ian stood. “You’ve been here for about four hours, and in that time, you’ve hit on my assistant, interrupted four meetings, and suggested we replace our equipment with AI livestream puppets.”

“I was offering opportunities.”

“You were offering weird tech bros in suits energy,” Ian said. “And I’m not interested.”

“I thought we had alignment.”

“You misread the entire room,” Ian deadpanned. “I’ve seen what I need to see. Including how you treat my staff. Also—assistant of the year? That’s the line?” It had made its way around the office, great. 

You tried very hard not to laugh as you typed a fake email just to keep your hands busy.

Bradley sputtered. “You’ll regret this.”

Ian shrugged. “Doubt it. Thanks for your time. Security can show you out. They love investor walkouts—it’s like their Super Bowl.”

Bradley sputtered something under his breath, turned on his heel, and left with his shiny shoes echoing hard against the floor.

Ian leaned out of his office, looked at you, and said, “Sorry. I waited to see if Spencer would deck him first.”

You smiled. “Thanks for the restraint.”

Ian shrugged. “You’re good at what you do. I protect my team.”

Then, with his usual deadpan calm: “Also—he called you ‘boss babe.’ That was the final straw.”

By the time you stepped out into the golden haze of late afternoon, the building was mostly quiet.

Bradley was long gone—escorted by security with the dramatic flair of a deleted Try Not to Laugh bit. The tension you hadn’t realized had been coiled tight in your shoulders all day had finally started to melt away.

And there he was.

Leaning against your car, Spencer looked up as you approached, hoodie sleeves pushed up, the edges of his hair ruffled from the wind or maybe from fidgeting with his hands. He had that look on his face—quietly patient, a little worried, like he’d been waiting to see if you were okay before deciding how to feel.

You dropped your bag on the hood and just… let yourself lean into him.

He caught you without hesitation, arms wrapping tight around your waist, head tipping down to press his cheek against your hair.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“Hey,” you mumbled back into his chest.

You stayed like that for a minute. Maybe more.

His hoodie smelled like cedar and laundry detergent. Warm and familiar and safe.

“So,” he said eventually, voice low. “Bradley’s gone?”

“Escorted out by security,” you confirmed, not moving. “Ian didn’t even blink.”

Spencer exhaled. “I wish I could’ve seen it.”

“Ian said it was like the security team’s Super Bowl.”

Spencer chuckled softly. “Should’ve sold tickets.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him. “Thanks for earlier. For showing up. For not... punching him.”

“I considered it,” he said. “Briefly.”

You smiled. “Yeah?”

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “But then I figured you’d prefer a boyfriend who doesn’t get banned from the office.”

“Correct,” you said. “That’s a bare minimum requirement.”

Spencer looked at you, his expression softening. “I hated seeing you deal with that. You were trying to be polite. Professional. And he just… kept pushing.”

You nodded slowly. “I didn’t want to make a scene.”

“I know,” he said. “But you shouldn’t have to work twice as hard just to be respected. Not here. Not anywhere.”

You blinked. His voice had gone tight at the end—not angry, but serious.

The kind of tone Spencer usually reserved for things like someone insulting your work ethic or questioning your seat at the table.

You stepped closer again, pressing your forehead to his chest. “I’m okay now.”

He held you tighter. “You shouldn’t have had to be ‘okay’ because you powered through.”

You tilted your head up again, suddenly overwhelmed. “You know I’d pick you, right? A hundred times over.”

He smiled. “I already did.”

“And you know I wasn’t even slightly tempted by his... whatever that was?”

“Tech bro aura?” Spencer offered. “Crypto breath?”

You snorted. “It was awful.”

“I almost challenged him to a hoodie-off,” he said seriously.

“You would’ve won.”

“Obviously.”

You both laughed then—real and light and cathartic.

Spencer reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out your keys. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here. I’ll drive.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You driving is a reward now?”

“Yeah,” he said proudly. “I’ve only curb-checked once this week.”

You gave him a mock stern look. “You are so lucky you’re cute.”

He grinned and opened the passenger door for you. “You’re luckier.”

You slid in, still smiling. “Let’s get tacos. I deserve tacos.”

He kissed your forehead, closed the door behind you, and whispered through the glass, “You deserve everything.”

Meme Team Supreme

Courtney 👑:BRADLEY HAS LEFT THE BUILDING I repeat—THE TECH BRO HAS LEFT THE BUILDING

Damien 🔥: 🧃💼🚫 Investor arc canceled due to harassment and vibes

Shayne 👖: BREAKING: Smosh studio regains 100% oxygen levels after the departure of one (1) walking Axe body spray

Arasha💍: Not the “assistant of the year” line 💀💀 He sounded like a LinkedIn post possessed by a dating app.

Angela 🎤: ✨✨ “Have you considered scaling your role?”YES. Into his face with a chair.

Tommy 🧢: Ian looked at him like:

Chanse 🧪: Ian was all “thanks for your time,” like he hadn’t already deleted the man from our Google Drive.

Ian 🧠: Just to be clear, I never put him in the Google Drive. He showed up with a pitch deck and BDE (bad deal energy).

Spencer 🧃: was gonna throw hands settled for holding hers instead growth 🌱

Courtney 👑: You literally side-eyed him so hard he LEFT I’ve never seen a man retreat in slacks before

Shayne 👖: He had the audacity of a man who’s never been told “no” and the jawline of a lacrosse coach

Arasha💍: not gonna lie

i was impressed he fit that much cologne in one outfit

Angela 🎤: anyway, we all voted and your boyfriend wins “protective king of the year”

Spencer 🧃: do i get a crown or just eternal vigilante rights over her clipboard

You 👀: You get tacos and the right to dramatically stand outside every time I have to deal with corporate

Damien 🔥: 👑Clipboard King long may he snark

✨ Reblogs + likes | Feedback feeds the writer 📎 Requests and fic recs welcome! 📬 Comment for tag requests

[angelcakeeee]

Hello hello!!

Sorry for my on and off activity yall!! It’s been a wild ride the past couple of weeks. BUT ITS FINALLY HERE!!!! This is a continuation of the Actors AU of the Firefighter AU my lovely friend ( @us3rnam3-r3dact3d | https://archiveofourown.org/users/US3RNAM3_R3DACT3D/pseuds/US3RNAM3_R3DACT3D ) wrote!!!

That being said, there is some distinct physical descriptions for the characters. All listeners/readers are left gender ambiguous! Also, there are spoilers for the series in almost all of my writings from here. Read with caution!!

BLOOPER REELS #2

tags: redacted audio, redactedASMR, Sam, Darlin, Freelancer, Vincent, Milo, Gavin, Firefighter AU, EMT AU, Actors AU, mentions of acted out serious character injury, spoilers for the main series, go read the world (it burns through me), is it just forced proximity or is everyone here really hot?

(Freelancer)

You were exhausted, press release after press release was starting to wear you down. But… you enjoyed talking about the show. It was something you’d worked hard on. You’d put so many hours into your character and their motivations. Talked to so many actual EMTs to learn their experiences and feelings. So, you were glad to talk about that hard work.

“So, the crash scene.” The interviewer started. “Was that hard on you guys? It’s a very intense scene to watch— I can’t imagine the feeling of having to film it.” You and Vincent shared a look, and then laughed. Sam reached a hand over to pat your leg as if to say ‘take it away.’

“Well actually, it’s funny you ask.” You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up into your words. “A couple of the clips that made it to the Final Cut aren’t all acting. The part where I have to cut the seatbelt with the trauma scissors was scripted, but what wasn’t scripted was that I forgot to brace for the fall and hit my head real bad.”

Vincent nodded, “dude it was like the head bang heard around the world, it scared the shit out of everyone.”

Sam laughed, pointing at you. “And you just kept goin’ too, did nearly a whole take like that before you tapped out.” You nodded in response, getting maybe a bit bashful. It was always nice when Sam talked you up to people, it made you feel proud.

“I was determined. Because it’s so intense of a scene I wanted to get it out of the way as soon as possible. I hate yelling at people.” You crossed your legs, looking over to Sam for a little encouragement. His soft, reassuring brown eyes met yours and you two exchanged a look that you didn’t quite understand what it meant. Whatever it was made you get embarrassed and look away, turning back to the interviewer.

“I really love everyone who worked on this show, you know? We all got really close and actually loved being around each other which can be rare for such a drama filled show. Sometimes characters get in the way of actually becoming close.” You shrugged and folded your hands into your lap. “It’s really nice to have people you care about but it does make it significantly harder to film more intense scenes like that.”

Vincent poked you a little too hard. “Especially when they keep messing up the lines.” He teased. You groaned and rolled your eyes.

“Ugh, yeah. Remembering lines in a scene like that is rough, let alone trying to improvise when someone misses or flubs a line. It’s nobody’s fault, but it can definitely spark frustration.” You looked around playfully as if just speaking about this would somehow get you into trouble. “Poor Milo kept missing his lines and I was getting so frustrated about it that some of my lines in there weren’t scripted. Vincent broke a couple of times and we had to restart the whole thing.”

Vincent raised a finger like he’d just remembered something. “Yes! And there’s a take that didn’t make it into the Final Cut but in one of the things I had made someone loosen the straps on the backboard they had me on, and we forgot to tighten them again before doing another take so when they went to move the backboard onto its side I just rolled right into this one’s lap.” He jabbed the air with his thumb in your direction.

You laughed, nearly doubling over in your seat and shaking your head. “oh my god! Yes! It scared me so bad, I remember yelling and scaring everyone. Even tank came running to make sure I was okay.” You thought back to when that sweetheart of a person had nearly pushed everyone away from the truck and poked their head in to check on you. It was sweet, out of all the people in the cast, you’d always seen them as the most similar to their character. That’s why you’d started calling them by their character’s nickname. A bunch of others in the cast did too.

Sam had perked up a bit when you mentioned them, to which you gave a knowing smile. They weren’t public yet, but everyone in the cast knew. You were sure it would come out pretty soon, the media had a knack for finding people out much quicker than they wanted. They were cute. You’d never seen Tank soften as much as they did when Sam had a hand on them. You loved seeing people love each other. You looked back at the interviewer and smiled warmly.

“So yeah, a couple people got chewed out for real during that scene. It was a rough one. Lots of apologies were said.” You felt your face get a little red. You were still a little embarrassed about how upset you’d gotten that day.

Sam patted your back. “It’s okay, we still love you.” He teased. Vincent nodded in agreement. The rest of the interview went smoothly. Lots of laughs, smiles, and stories were exchanged. When you finally got out, Gavin was waiting for you just off set. You giggled when he whistled at you, and gave him a little spin to show off.

As soon as you were in range, his hands found your hips. It was easy for him to appreciate you. It was something that drew you to him in the first place. During filming, he’d been directed to be touchy, but the chemistry between you two never stopped when you stepped off set. You found yourself drawn to him at every gathering. Every event. He, of course, obliged you every time. He found it cute how easily it was to get you bashful.

Even now, nearly a year into your relationship, you still got blushy when he complimented you. It made your stomach twirl with nervousness and excitement every time, especially when he wasn’t afraid to tell everyone just how amazing he thought you were. He took nearly any chance he got to compliment you— even when you weren’t even there.

He’d done it once when he was being interviewed on the red carpet. It’s how he announced his relationship with you.

“You have many adoring fans across the world, Gavin.” The interviewer had teased. He seemed excited to bring up the subject, and Gavin had playfully rolled his eyes in response. You were off talking to someone else— completely oblivious to what was happening.

“I do.” Gavin shot back, glancing over to you for a brief moment. So brief, in fact, it didn’t even catch your eye. You two weren’t particularly hiding your relationship, neither of you cared about when or how it got out. But… you did like your privacy. You preferred to show affection behind closed doors. At first.

“What do you think of all that? Anyone at home getting jealous about it?” A prod from the interviewer. Testing the waters. Gavin hummed, a smirk forming across those beautiful lips of his.

“Darling?” Gavin called, looking over to you again. Your head turned on instinct, eyes widened with soft questioning. Such a natural reaction to him that it took you a moment to process what you’d just done, in front of a camera, on live TV. Your face flushed, but you pushed past the nervousness easily simply by holding eye contact with Gavin. He offered out a hand, and you politely excused yourself from the reporter you’d been entertaining.

“Actually.” Gavin started, his hand finding your hip opposite of him as your hand snaked around his waist. “My partner doesn’t mind my fans one bit.” He smiled, eyes flicking down to you as your free hand found his chest. A check in. You smiled up at him, as always, and hummed.

“Oh well this is a big development!” The interviewer chirped, no doubt internally celebrating the win of his crew getting the news first. Cameras flashed like nobody’s business, people crowded. That’s what happens when two actors from one of the top TV shows in the nation— if not the world— announce their relationship on the red carpet.

The next moments had been a blur of paparazzi, Gavin’s voice, and probably many other things you were a little too overwhelmed to process. It was hard to get used to all of the things that came with getting a big break. You’d never expected to book this role, let alone for the show to end up as big as it had.

Gavin’s hand on your face brought you back to the present, the zoned out look on your face having caused him to bring you back from your daydream. “Earth to Deviant. You still in there?”

You giggled and kissed him, rolling your eyes. “Yes, I am.” You replied, pretending to be annoyed with him. He took no offense to it. Of course.

“Well, why don’t we go and meet up with Lasko and Huxley like we said we would and get some sushi in you?” He asked, kissing your forehead. You rolled your eyes for real when you heard Vincent’s exaggerated ‘aww’ from across the room.

“I’d love that.” You purred, stealing one last kiss from Gavin and letting him lead you towards the exit of the building.

[svtiddiess]

Show 'Em How It's Done

Synopsis: Everyone assumes Mingyu is the submissive one when it comes to bedroom activities, so he proves them wrong.

Pairing: non-idol!Mingyu x afab!reader

Genre: smut, oneshot, established relationship, non-idol! au

Rating: mature

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), creampie, semi-public sex, exhibitionism? (they're in a different room but can still be heard), dom!Mingyu, big dick!Mingyu, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: This was requested! I hope you enjoy it!

Thank you so much to @seokgyuu and @okiedokrie for beta reading!

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Your eyes light up as you see the cabin you're staying for the weekend come into view. Mingyu, your boyfriend, had planned this trip with his friend group—a much-needed escape to the woods. Thanks to Seungcheol's generous use of his credit card, they managed to rent a spacious and stunning cabin tucked away in nature.

At first, you assumed Mingyu wanted a boys-only weekend, but to your surprise, he was adamant that you join them. Despite your repeated refusals, he insisted this was the perfect chance for you to finally meet and get to know his closest friends. He also claimed that he'd be extremely sad and lonely if he spent an entire two days without you, a reason that made you snort. Eventually, you gave in, and Mingyu’s excitement over your agreement was downright infectious.

After a gruelling four-hour drive, you sigh and stretch, glad to finally move your stiff limbs. Your gaze shifts to Mingyu, who’s focused on reverse parking with one hand resting on the back of your seat. Your cheeks heat up—it’s ridiculous how even after six months together, he still makes your heart flutter over something so simple. But really, who could blame you? It's not your fault your boyfriend is so hot.

"Thanks for driving, my Mingoo," you say with a smile, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek.

"You missed," he pouts, tapping his lips with his finger.

Laughing, you lean in for a quick peck, but before you can pull away, Mingyu places a hand on the back of your head and deepens the kiss. A surprised squeak escapes you, followed by soft giggles against his lips.

"Did you really think I’d let you off the hook with that weak excuse of a kiss?" He teases, his grin playful.

"You’re such a baby," you huff, rolling your eyes.

"Your baby," he counters smugly.

Still chuckling, you climb out of the car and stretch again as Mingyu unloads your luggage. Your jaw drops as you take in the sight of the large cabin before you. It’s impressive—definitely worth thanking Seungcheol for later.

"Looks like some of them are already here," Mingyu says, nodding toward the other cars parked nearby.

Suddenly, the realisation hits that you’ll be meeting most of his friends for the first time, and nerves start to bubble up. You’ve met Seungcheol and Wonwoo before, but this will be your first encounter with the entire group. Mingyu has been close with them since high school, and despite going their separate ways for college and work, their bond has remained rock-solid.

Sensing your unease, Mingyu sets down the bags and walks over to you. He takes your hand, his touch steady and comforting, and flashes you a reassuring smile.

"Don’t stress, babe. They’re going to love you. I promise," he says softly.

"But what if I embarrass myself? What if the first impression I give them is of me being a total idiot?" you groan, your palms growing clammy.

Mingyu chuckles, shaking his head. "Babe, trust me. You can’t out-dumbass them. They’re the biggest idiots I know," he says with a laugh. "So relax, okay? You’ve got nothing to worry about."

His words, paired with the kiss he plants on your forehead, manage to soothe your nerves a little. You sigh, nodding reluctantly. Mingyu squeezes your hand one last time before returning to the luggage. Taking a deep breath, you follow him inside, determined to make the best of the weekend.

Getting to know Mingyu’s friend group has been…an experience, to say the least. He wasn’t kidding when he said they were idiots but in the best possible way. They’re warm, welcoming, and a little chaotic—a combination that instantly makes you feel at ease. In fact, Soonyoung, Seungkwan, and Seokmin even "initiated" you into their inner circle. You’ve officially become one of the boys.

Right now, the entire group is sprawled across the living room, all varying levels of drunk, playing games. You’re sitting on the floor between Mingyu and Vernon, caught up in a lively game of Truth or Dare. Currently, Jeonghan has dared Joshua to get slapped in the face with kimchi, and to everyone’s delight, Joshua actually went through with it.

You’re doubled over, clutching your stomach in laughter, tears streaming down your face as Joshua wipes kimchi off his cheek with an exasperated expression. Jeonghan, of course, looks beyond pleased with himself.

It’s Soonyoung’s turn next, and judging by the mischievous glint in his eyes and his unsteady giggles, the alcohol is fully in charge now. He spins toward Mingyu with a maniacal grin.

"So, Gyu. Truth or dare?" he asks, practically bouncing in place.

Mingyu, who’s only slightly tipsy, shakes his head with a laugh. "Truth. I’m not risking anything."

"Boo!" Soonyoung pouts dramatically, earning exaggerated groans of disappointment from the rest of the group.

"Buzzkill!" Seokmin calls out from the couch.

"I’d rather not get kimchi-slapped by Jeonghan," Mingyu quips, casting a wary glance at Jeonghan.

"Hey, it’s an enlightening experience," Joshua deadpans, still dabbing his face with a tissue. Jeonghan simply laughs.

Soonyoung suddenly gasps, his eyes wide as if he’s just discovered the secret to the universe. "Oh my God, I got it!" he shouts, his grin downright unhinged. "Gyu, is it true that you’re the submissive one in the bedroom?!"

Your jaw drops. The room instantly explodes with laughter.

"W-What?!" Mingyu stammers, his brows furrowing in shock.

"You heard me!" Soonyoung giggles. "You’re the submissive one, aren’t you?"

Mingyu scoffs, shaking his head. "I’m not."

"Aw, come on, Gyu. Don’t be shy about it," Jeonghan teases, his grin only fueling the chaos. The laughter around you grows louder.

Your face burns as the conversation continues, the guys piling on the teasing with no mercy.

"Guys, seriously, can we not?" Mingyu whines, clearly flustered.

"Not until you admit it!" Seungcheol grins, leaning forward with mock intensity.

"It’s true, right, Y/N? Mingyu’s the submissive one in the bedroom, isn’t he?" Seungkwan chimes in, his laughter contagious.

Your cheeks heat up even more, and you hide your face in your hands, which only makes them laugh harder.

"No need to be shy, Y/N. We all know Gyu’s a massive simp for you—in and out of the bedroom," Joshua says with a wink.

You giggle softly, finally giving in. "Well…he is a huge simp for me."

The room erupts into chaos, everyone howling with laughter.

"She admitted it!" Soonyoung screams, practically rolling on the floor.

"So it’s true! He is submissive!" Jun adds, laughing so hard he has to wipe his eyes.

"I knew it!" Chan chimes in, grinning from ear to ear.

Mingyu groans, his face buried in his hands. "Babe~," he whines, looking at you with a pout.

You offer him an apologetic smile and lean in to kiss his cheek. "Sorry," you murmur, trying to stifle a laugh.

Mingyu grumbles and pouts as the rest of the boys continue to roar with laughter.

The game carries on, but you notice your beer is empty. Announcing to the group that you’re heading to the kitchen to grab more, you stand up and make your way into the next room, separated from the living area by a wall.

You open the fridge and grab a bottle, then reach for the kitchen drawer to find a bottle opener—only to discover it’s missing. With a quiet grumble, you crouch down to check the lower drawers, rummaging through them in hopes of finding what you need.

That’s when you feel it—a presence behind you, someone pressing up against your back. You gasp softly and straighten up quickly, attempting to turn around, but the person behind you cages you in, their arms trapping you against the counter.

"So… it’s true, huh? That I’m the submissive one?" Mingyu’s voice is low as he whispers in your ear.

Relief washes over you when you realise it’s just your boyfriend. Letting out a soft laugh, you shake your head. "Gyu, they were just messing with you," you say, amused at how hung up he still is on the topic.

"But you didn’t deny it," he murmurs, his voice tinged with mock offence. "You told them I’m a simp for you."

"That’s because you are a simp for me," you tease, glancing at him over your shoulder.

"I am," he admits, his tone unashamed as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. His face nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "But I’m definitely not the submissive one."

Before you can respond, Mingyu rolls his hips against you, his movement deliberate. The sudden sensation draws a surprised gasp from your lips.

"Right, babe?" he teases, and you can feel the smug grin spreading across his face as he continues his little game.

You bite your bottom lip, your body warming under his touch as he grinds against you, the growing pressure unmistakable. "Gyu, not here," you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. "They’ll hear us."

"That’s the whole point, sweetheart," he purrs, his voice dripping with mischief.

"Fuck, Gyu," a soft whimper escapes your lips at a particularly hard grind, causing Mingyu to chuckle.

"What if I just bend you over and fuck you right here? You would like that, wouldn't you, sweetheart?" He chuckles.

"Gyu, I-" A loud moan escapes your lips, and you quickly bite your lip to prevent any more sounds from escaping.

Grabbing your hips, Mingyu starts guiding your hips against his, pushing your ass against his hard cock. You feel your mind start to get fuzzy as you feel how hard he has become.

"Beg for it, sweetheart. Beg for me to ruin you with my cock," he purrs in your ear.

"Gyu, please… I need it," you whisper, your cheeks flushing with heat.

"Need what, babe?" he asks, his tone playful, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. Your soft whine only makes his grin widen.

"Need you to ruin me with your cock," you mumble.

"Good girl," he whispers before placing a kiss on the shell of your ear.

Without warning, he bends you over the kitchen counter; a yelp escapes your lips as your cheeks make contact with the cold marble. A slow, teasing hand runs down your back, leaving goosebumps in its trail; you can't help but let out a small whine of frustration, eliciting a chuckle from Mingyu.

"So impatient," he smirks as he slaps your ass, drawing a gasp from you.

He unbuckles your pants, and you help him shimmy it off of you, shivering as the cold air nips at your bare legs. He hums as he rubs a finger on your panty-clad pussy, making you whimper.

"So wet already?" he teases with a low chuckle, his tone dripping with mockery.

"Gyu, please," you plead, your voice trembling with desperation, unable to endure his relentless teasing any longer.

"Admit it," he growls softly, his lips brushing against your ear. "Admit that you're the submissive one in bed."

"I'm the submissive one in bed," you cry out, your cheeks burning. "Now, please, just fuck me already!"

Laughing at your impatience, Mingyu slaps your pussy, making you mewl as a sharp wave of pain and pleasure wash over you.

"Such a good girl. My good girl," he growls before unbuckling his pants and slipping out his cock.

Moving your panties to the side, he teases you by rubbing his dick against your folds, coating the tip with your juices. Desperate to feel him, you arch your hips back, seeking more, but Mingyu firmly holds you in place, pressing you tightly against the counter with ease. You let out a frustrated whine, wiggling your hips in a futile attempt to gain some control, but Mingyu’s strength easily overpowers you. Helpless under his grip, you surrender, letting him take the lead like the good girl he knows you are.

He spits on his cock, using it as lube, and gives it a few pumps before slowly inserting it into your tight hole. Your eyes roll back, and your mouth goes agape as you finally feel his cock inside you; his cock stretching you out deliciously. Mingyu's big, the biggest you've ever had, so every time he fucks you, it feels like the first.

Grunts escape his lips as he tries to restrain himself from slamming into you; you feel so good wrapped around him. A choked whimper escapes your lips when you feel his tip kiss your cervix. He pulls out halfway before slamming back into you, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Without hesitation, Mingyu picks up the pace; each thrust rough and relentless. Broken moans and soft whimpers spill from your lips, your mind too clouded with pleasure to focus on anything but the way he fills you so perfectly.

"That's right, sweetheart," he purrs against your ear, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Be loud. Let everyone know how good I’m making you feel."

"G-Gyu," you manage to moan, your voice trembling. "S-so good… feels so good."

"Only I can make you feel this good, isn’t that right, sweetheart?" he growls, his voice rough with possession. One hand moves to grip your neck, holding you firmly in place, while the other steadies your hips.

"Yes! You—only you!" you cry out, your voice shaky as the overwhelming pleasure pushes you closer to the edge.

"Gyu, I'm so close! Please—please, please!" you beg, your words tumbling out in desperate sobs as you plead for release.

The hand holding your hips shifts to circle your clit with precision, and you scream out his name. The knot in your stomach finally unravels, and your vision blurs as a wave of euphoria crashes over you. Pleasure ripples through your body, leaving you breathless as you chant his name like a prayer. Mingyu doesn't let up, his movements steady as he thrusts into you, guiding you through the intensity of your release. After a few more thrusts, he cums inside you, filling you up; your fluids mixing together.

You both take a moment to catch your breath, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing. Slowly, he slides out, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the sensation. Pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he adjusts your panties back into place. You cringe slightly, feeling the fabric cling uncomfortably to your skin.

"Keep my cum in you; I'll make sure to fuck it back into you later," he purrs, making you blush.

He helps you stand and gently guides you back into your pants before slipping into his own clothes. Running his fingers through your messy hair, he smooths it down before wiping away any drool and sweat from your face. Then, he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. You smile into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. When he pulls back, he nuzzles your nose with his, drawing a soft giggle from you.

"Ready to head back?" he murmurs, his voice low and affectionate.

You nod, grabbing your now lukewarm beer before following him back into the living room.

"Did we miss anything?" Mingyu asks casually as he takes a seat, acting as if he didn't just fuck your brains out a few minutes before.

"N-Nothing, you missed nothing," Soonyoung stammers, awkwardly clearing his throat as he tries to hide his very obvious boner.

Your gaze sweeps across the room, and you realise the rest of them are just as flustered, each one failing miserably to hide their boners. You burst into laughter at their awkward state, and Mingyu joins in, clearly enjoying the moment.

With a smug grin, Mingyu looks around at his friends before cupping your face and pulling you in for a deep, possessive kiss. The room fills with groans and exaggerated complaints.

"Get a room!" someone yells, earning more laughter from the both of you.

You giggle into the kiss, relishing the playful teasing, while Mingyu smirks against your lips, clearly pleased to have proven their earlier jabs entirely wrong.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @tomodachiii @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo

[nagumaow]

itoshi rin - “ lost ? “

summary ౨ৎ

your boyfriend, itoshi rin, always looks a little lost whenever he’s out with you. he doesn’t really get your antics, but he’ll follow you anyways ♡

warnings ɞ

loverboy rin lol, reader is described as pretty, beautiful, etc, oh oh and reader buys a dress , not much else , and ummm just lots of fluff and cutesy stuff and yeah !

“are you looking for something, sir?” a store attendant asks, a kind smile on her lips. she looks back at him— the man you love— who is also known as your boyfriend, rin. itoshi rin.

“no.” he’d respond, shaking his head at the woman. short and simple, as always. in all honesty, rin’s not too sure what he’s doing here. he watches as the lady leaves, his eyes immediately shifting to the dressing room. you told him to wait out here while you try on some outfits, but he feels like you’ve been taking a bit too long in there. are you hurt?

the thought alone is enough to make him feel a bit skittish, his foot tapping against the floor. he peers inside, glancing back at the endless stalls of dressing rooms. he eyes the one you stepped into— number thirteen. thirteen, thirteen, thirteen. are you okay? he feels a bit sick. what if something happened to you?

he spots you walking out after what felt like hours of nervously chattering his teeth, and he relaxes immediately. shoulders slumped and the crease from his eyebrows furrowing smoothing over, he finds his feet just barely grazing the little fencing of the queue. he knows he shouldn’t, it’s the women’s dressing room— but you’re right there, approaching him with that happy smile on your face.

“riiinn,” you draw out, and he feels his knees going weak. you’re so beautiful he’s almost sure he could cry. but he remains stoic, his hand reaching out to take some of the clothes for you. “look.” you say, holding up.. some sort of dress. he thinks he recalls you showing him a picture of something similar earlier today.

“you’ll look beautiful. let’s go pay now.” he’d say, his tone just as gentle as ever. he’s always like this with you. his hand reaches up, cupping your cheek and brushing aside your hair as he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.

he reaches for your hand, leading you to the register. it’s usually you leading him, but he feels sort of bad for trailing behind you like a puppy.

the next time you both go somewhere, you’re bringing him to a cafe. your favorite one. yes, rin remembers these things. how could he not? he’d never forgive himself if he were to forget anything about you.

“mhm.. yes, can i please get (favourite order)?” you ask, expression bright. rin thinks you’re like the sun sometimes. shining so prettily. he wishes he could take a picture— but he’d feel like a creep pulling out his phone in the middle of a cafe and taking photos of you like some stalker. but you’re the absolute love of his life, why should he care?

probably because he knows you’ll get all embarrassed and flustered if he does pull out his phone like he wants to. as much as he’d love to capture your beautiful smile in a picture to admire when he misses you, he would much rather have you happy.

but, don’t blame him when he ‘sneakily’ snaps a picture of you. the tips of his flush a pretty shade of red when his flash goes off, and rin is so embarrassed that he feels like that reindeer with the red nose when he watches your lips part.

“rin!” you exclaim, practically dropping your drink as you look back at your boyfriend from across the table. “did you just—“

“i didn’t.” he mumbles, gaze shifting away from yours. his pale lips curve into a subtle pout, and you really can’t bring yourself to be upset. you just flash him a knowing smile, which only makes his heart beat faster and spin the stars around his head a little harder. have you put a spell or something on him?

rin likes going out with you.

he feels a little confused sometimes, especially when you’re walking down the sidewalk, eyes bright as you look at the stores lined up. rin knows you like shopping, so he’s more than happy to come with you on your little trips to the store. even if he has no idea what he’s doing.

all he knows, is that you look so gorgeous when you smile. nothing could ever compete with you and your undeniable beauty, the absolute joy that radiates off of you like some sort of angel’s aura whenever you’re happy.

he feels a little proud, knowing that he’s contributing to your happiness as you tug him along, your fingers interlocked with his.

he likes it when you smile, he likes it when you’re happy.

on your next date, your boyfriend has no complaints standing with you in a line for some sort store. you told him it was a new one, and that you’re so excited to look inside. he’s just happy to be with you.

when you’re both finally let inside, he follows after you, eyes focused on your form as you excitedly look through everything. he has to physically hold himself back from falling over. you’re so, so, cute. he lives for that smile.

“rin, rin!” you wave your hand in front of his eyes, a small giggle escaping your lips at the dazed, or more like, lovestruck expression on his face. “are you listening?” you ask, tilting your head and leaning closer to him.

“of course.” he says quickly, feeling just a little ashamed for getting distracted. “…i’m sorry.” he says after a few moments. should he drop to his knees?

“don’t apologise.” you smile, cupping his cheeks and squishing them slightly. if you both weren’t so caught up loving each other, you could almost hear someone in the background.. something about.. ‘why can’t that be me?’ single people, these days.

“what were you saying?” rin prompts, nose scrunching slightly as you pinch at his cheek. he loves you more than anything, but this is a little embarrassing. he feels like a child. yet, he somehow likes it. maybe because it’s you.

“oh, right! have a look at this dress!”

and that’s how rin finds himself standing in the middle of yet another store, looking like a little boy who’s lost his mother after you ran off. he sighs fondly, eyes sparkling as he watches you look through a shelf. he doesn’t care about anything in this store. as far as he cares, all of it is just a bunch of little things that will bring you joy.

your dates are always fun, rin thinks. but he likes it when the two of you are together at home, too.

you’re curled against him, scrolling through tiktok with your head resting on his shoulder. yes, he loves this. even if he has no idea what the video you’re showing him is supposed to mean.

“your humour is interesting, love.” he mutters, nuzzling his nose against your hair. a playful jab watered down by his love for you.

your boyfriend, itoshi rin, loves you more than anything.

© me . pls pls don’t copy , steal , repost , translate , or do anything bad with my work and instead try and improve ur own skills ! ♡

masterlist ( 🪽 )

[dissolved-g1rl]

dante + pizza delivery girl reader >⩊< ⋆˚࿔

“I’m just saying—I think I deserve the refund.” Dante says calmly, holding crumpled bills in his hand. The pizza is already set on the closest counter. You really should’ve accepted the payment first. “W-What? I got it here on time!” You sputter, You hate coming over to his stupid shitty bachelor pad. He always tries to bargain with you, it’s practically everyday that he’s calling, requesting that you are the one to deliver his dinner. “Uh yeah but it’s barely even warm, y’know I think you should come in, gimme your bosses number and we’ll…discuss.” He says brushing his hair back. “As if you creep!” You immediately say, feeling a wave of warmth running over you. He’s a good looking guy, too good looking for a guy that lives off your shitty pizza, worst of all he’s inviting you in. “A creep? You can’t call me that, i’m a paying customer!” He says putting his hand on his chest like he’s offended. “You haven’t paid yet!” You say exasperated. He rolls his eyes, handing over rumpled bills. “Zero stars.” He says bopping your head which makes you grumble. “See you tomorrow!” He calls out when you make your way off his porch. He lingers for a moment, oh how he loves to watch you walk away.

“Just the girl I wanted to see!” Dante chimes, opening the door before you can even knock. “Hot this time?” He hums accepting the pizza before you can take his cash again. “I—yes.” You frown, feeling a weird knot in your stomach because he’s bold enough to answer the door in a towel. “You’re really lacking some customer service skills, y’know that?” He hums, tapping his fingers against his chin thoughtfully “You’re lacking normal guy skills!” You retort “Nice one.” He laughs the wave of embarrassment drags you under, great, “Come inside, it’s…cold out, hafta get your cash.” He chirps, turning on his heel. You contemplate just leaving, the wide pale expanse of his back lulls you in, he must really go to the gym, you don’t know how else he’d have such killer back muscles. Wide shoulders that taper into a thinner waste, he has a few freckles on his back, you wonder if he knows. You’re tempted inside, biting the inside of your cheek as you shut his front door. It’s about what you’d expect, creaky hardwood floors, vaguely dusty but not entirely unclean. He shuffles back into the loft the towel replaced for a pair of sweats, cash in hand. "Y'know I was thinking—" He starts "Uh-oh" You chide half way through his sentence, which earns you a sigh. "I was thinking, I should probably start tipping you for all your hard work. You keep me so well fed y'know?" He hums waving the cash in your face. "The regular is fine, don't wanna put you out." You murmur referring to his lackluster bachelor pad. He rolls his eyes, "Oh c'mon don't be modest, I'm sure there's something I could give you that you'd appreciate." He hums in a way that makes you think you've been transported to some cheap porno. "Umm... I dunno... I mean y'know my boss 'n stuff.' You say stalling for time awkwardly twiddling your fingers, A quick glance down shows the sizable print aching against the front of his sweats, and every reasonable thought gets flushed down the toilet. "See something you like?" He giggles in a way grown men shouldn't be able to do. "What the hell is wrong with you!?" You squeak “Oh c’mon, you looked, don’t blame being a little perv on me.” He chides, placing his hands on his hips, his sweats sag low, showing off his toned adonis belt. You retreat from his front door with a squeal, working at a pizzeria is enough sausage for one lifetime..thanks. “So…i’ll call you?!” He says poking his head out the door with a big grin as you tread in the opposite direction. You’ll come around eventually, he’s sure

dividers by @andromeda-graphics

[puari-vol]

Peer Pressure

CW: Hypnosis

I stood quietly and unobtrusively off in a corner of the ‘slumber party’ trying my best not to bother anyone. Occasionally I glanced over at my friend Kelsey who was talking animatedly with some girls and wondered why she had insisted I come along. Of course I had agreed at the time, it seemed like a good way to make friends. But now that I was here…I couldn’t bring myself to try talking to anyone. I fixed my eyes on the cup of water in my hand. This was all… fine, I was just being Kelsey's designated driver. I was being helpful, like a good friend should be. It didn’t matter if I had fun or not. 

I zoned out enough that when Kelsey tapped me on the shoulder I jumped

“Did you really just stand in the corner this whole time? Geez come on you goof its time for the movie!” 

She took my arm and dragged me toward the TV. Both couches were full so I ended up sitting cross legged on the ground in front of them. Kelsey was about to sit next to me before she was suddenly pulled away to sit with some other girls, so now I was just sitting next to two strangers. They didn't seem to mind me, but they didn't introduce themselves either.

The lights go off and the movie starts, the chatter dies down as everybody watches. It seemed like there was something wrong with the audio, there was an odd droning sound playing under the movie. But it wasn’t loud enough to be annoying and nobody else seemed to notice so I kept quiet. The movie was honestly kinda boring, I glanced around and accidentally made eye contact with someone doing the same thing. I felt myself blush and turned back to pay attention. The movie kept going and after a while I started to space out. I was so out of it that when something changed it took me a while to notice. The movie wasn’t playing anymore, or maybe…this was part of the movie? The screen just showed a pink and purple spiral spinning around and around. The droning had gotten louder. How long had the spiral been on the screen? I couldn’t remember. I looked to the girl on my right, about to ask if something was wrong with the movie. But she was just staring at the screen, focused. I noticed everyone else was doing much the same. I quickly turned back to the screen, not wanting to embarrass myself. As I watched I tried to remember what had been happening in the movie for this to make sense, the spiral and been going for at least a few minutes now, but the more I tried the more the details of the movie seemed fuzzy and distant. I stared intently at the screen, trying to find out what everyone else was looking at…

I blinked when there was suddenly someone sitting in front of me. I only noticed because she waved her hand in front of my face after she sat down. She was backlit by the spiral on the screen and she smiled at me. 

“Hey there” she said softly “First time here?”

I just nodded feeling strangely dizzy.

“Kelsy said she was bringing someone knew, is that you?”

I nodded again, she was gazing intently at me and I started to feel self conscious, I averted my eyes and saw that everyone else was still just staring at the spiral

“Well Kelsy has good taste, you’ll be lovely”

I blush, not expecting the compliment

“Um thanks” I mumble no longer able to meet her eyes. She was grinning at me now

“Are you ready?”

“Uh…for what?”

“To learn about the button that turns off your brain” 

I blinked as I tried to sort through the nonsense statement

“The what?”

She giggled and pointed off to my left 

“Just watch, you’ll get the idea”

I looked and saw she was pointing at the girls sitting on one of the couches, all of their eyes were glued to the spiral. As I watched, another girl came up behind them. Starting with the girl on the far left, she leaned down and whispered something into her ear. Then reached over and tapped her on the forehead. At once, she went limp. Head lolling forward, eyes closed. She slumped into the girl sitting next to her, who jolted as if suddenly startled awake, eyes blinking rapidly. But the girl behind the couch simply reached over and tapped her on the forehead as well. And suddenly both girls seemed to be fast asleep leaning into each other. The girl behind the couch smiled and gave them both a pat on the head before moving on to the rest of the couch

“You see? All good girls like you have a button that turns off their brain” 

I was staring open mouthed at the girls now asleep on the couch

“But…but I’m not-”

“Shhhhh”

I felt a hand on my cheek, and my head was turned to face the girl in front of me again. I was blushing like crazy now and I stammered something incoherent. The girl just smiled kindly

“Don’t worry, you won't be bothered by that kind of stuff soon”

Hand still on my cheek, she turned my head to the right, where I watched the girl sitting right next to me get tapped on the forehead. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she slumped back, mouth open and drooling.

“Isn’t she pretty?” 

She put her hand below my chin and made me nod, I hardly noticed I was just staring at the girl

“Doesn’t she look beautiful, all sleepy like that?”

She made me nod again

“Don’t you want to look like that?”

I nodded, I wasn’t sure if she made me or not

She turned my head to face her again. Her other hand was held up in front of me, her index finger pointed at me. My eyes focused on the tip of her finger

“W-wait”

“Nighty night”

She tapped me on the forehead

[snaileer]

I’m a Size Medium, Thanks - 2

Part one: https://www.tumblr.com/snaileer/766471879423885312/im-a-size-medium-thanks

Danny stares into the eyes of what has got to be the grumpiest looking 12-14?10? How tall are children?- year old he’s ever met. And he grew up with Sam!

Danny looks back through the door, hoping to everything that an adult walks through. He is disappointed.

“Well?” The boy snaps, foot tapping.

“Uh, can I help.. you?” Danny says, voice ticking up. That’s what you’re supposed to say at a job right? Or maybe the kid wasn’t supposed to be here, “Do you need to call someone…?” He hopes not, he doesn’t know how or if the shop has a phone, and his… well his is wired through a realm of the dead so enough said there.

“My name is Damian Wayne.” He says primly. And expectantly.

Danny looks outside again, past the neon sign he specifically hadn’t turned on, then back at the Damian kid, blinking. There’s no way this was that ‘Mr.Wayne.’

The kid rolls his eyes impressively well then drops his glare back onto Danny, “Has this absurd incense burned away whatever meager sense you were born with? I am here to have a so-called ‘reading’ with a medium.”

If Danny hadn’t seen this Damian kid walk in with three whisps of shades wrapped around his arms, Danny would have questioned why, but he did, so he doesn’t.

He does, however, say: “Aren’t you a little young… to be like.. talking about death or something?” Though honestly, the incense is a real concern, Danny hadn’t even lit any today, Claire had just left it burning and the whole room was saturated.

“Will you fulfill your job description or not, you peasant?” The kid grits out.

Danny would really rather not. Like really rather not. But nOoo, here he was, waiting for a portal that could show up at any time, pretending he was a medium for a 7 year old just because he could talk to ghosts.

Danny sighs and drags himself around the counter to go into Claire’s weird little seance room. Maybe the fumes will kill him before the embarrassment does.

The kid follows.

Danny drops himself into Claire’s chair with weirdly plush armrests for still being so uncomfortable.

“Alright then, let’s get this over with. I’m Danny, the -ugh- medium. Whatdya wanna know?” Danny says as he kicks his leg out to hit a shade getting agitated and grabby by Damian’s feet. They got way too much of a spiritual boost from this room for Danny to be comfortable with it.

Damian watches him with a raised eyebrow, still not sitting down, “Aren’t you meant to lead the seance?”

Danny’s lip curls in distaste, he huffs a sigh and lets his shoulders drop, opening his mouth to tell this 9-year old something easy about one of his shades and be done-

He spots a sticky note stuck on the crystal ball.

-Danny, don’t forget, the showmanship is important! I trust you know how to meet expectations! Happy first day!

- Claire <3

Danny feels his face go deadpan. He was going to have this woman committed. That’s what he was going to do. She could be studied for the degenerative cognitive effects of being freaking bazonkers.

Danny plucks the note off the crystal ball and crumples it, letting the trash drop to the abyss that is Claire’s plush carpet.

He sighs, looking back up at Damian. The kid snaps his head towards him from where he’d been poking around the curtained walls- weirdo- but Danny beats him to the snappy comment.

“You got any spiritually charged items? Or like… something?” Danny says, taking a guess, he can make the thingy glow, say some nonsense, get paid, and close.

Damian narrows his eyes at him, but slowly moves to sit in the other chair, perched on the edge of the seat. He pulls something from his pocket and sets it on the table.

Pearls.

It’s a clump of shiny white pearls.

Absolutely dripping in ectoplasmic blood stains. So lovely.

Does Claire have biohazard gloves because oh gosh-

Danny hesitantly reaches for the pearls, lifting the strand between two fingers as he looks between it and the 12 year old. “You sure this is what you want to ask about?”

The kid’s glare turns challenging, mocking, “What? Admitting you are nothing but a charlatan?”

Danny grimaces, “Not quite. I mean…” He looks at the pearls again, then at the shade trying to hack away at the kids neck, “There’s definitely someone or something attached to this it’s just… not .. yours.”

“Tt,” the boy clicks his tongue at him, “and how exactly would you know that, charlatan?” Damian levels a mocking look up and down at him.

Danny’s eye twitches as he grimaces a smile, “Part of the job-“ brat. Danny doesn’t say that. Danny can’t say that. Danny has to deal with death obsessed TODDLERS who want to talk about some rando’s gruesome murder just so he can eat tonight. Or find somewhere to sleep. He doubts this will be enough for both.

Maybe if he’s dramatic enough.

Alright get to it then, Danny.

He sighs, dimming the light with Claire’s little remote- he is not so far gone as to turn them green like she had- and actually focusing his energy on the pearl necklace.

“What are you-“

Danny holds up a finger at Damian to silence him, which surprisingly works. He closes his eyes and starts trying to absorb the vibes of ectoplasmic remains as slowly as he can.

Feelings of course come with it and- well what’d ya know, he can definitely feel this attached to a ghost somewhere in this city.

“It’s a woman’s… younger than she should have been when she…”

He can hear Damian scoff, “Obviously, anyone could tell me that.”

Danny rolls his eyes under his eyelids, debating the merits of opening one to glare at him when his eyes are definitely glowing.

“She’s still here but-“ Danny says instead, trying to pull on the connection wandering out into the streets, “She can’t come here here.”

“What do you mean?” The boy snaps.

Danny tries to focus harder on it himself, he’s never done this before, tried to find or communicate with a ghost from an object… it was like Pointdexter and his mirror.

“She’s stuck somewhere… somewhere more important.. it’s dark and narrow and Danny mentally rears back as images flash into his mind. Accompanied of course by a woman’s scream.

An alley. A gun. A man stepping in front of her to protect her- no not her- a kid- Damian- not Damian- looks like-

Danny opens his eyes and drops the necklace. There’s barely any ectoplasm left on it.

Fine with him, he never wants to touch it again. But yuck that means he absorbed it!! Oh ewwww-

“Well?” An impatient voice asks and- oh yeah that’s right, the rude ass kid.

Danny pushes the pearls across the table with a finger and looks up at him, “Woman in an alley, that familiar to you?”

Damian’s eyes narrow, “Anyone who knows who I am could tell me the same.”

Danny snaps, “I don’t-!“ This is a child Danny, a child, he takes a deep breath, “Well she was scared for the kid, and now is… proud of him? There’s a lot of concern there, but she still watches him I guess, so that’s all I got for ya.”

Damian scrutinizes him for a minute, silent. Darn, weren’t mediums supposed to be vague as heck so that anything could apply and the person would find their own meaning? But did it count if he was just translating the vibes off a shade half a city away?

“This is…. acceptable.”

Danny nearly sags in relief and moves to stand, “Cool, then-“

“Wait.” The kid holds up a hand, “You said something regarding a disparity in the proposed ownership of the apparition you believed to be related to this jewelry.”

Danny blinks at him dumbly.

Damian scoffs again, “That the apparition attached to this necklace was ‘not mine,’ as you said??” He snarks, putting air quotes up.

Danny slowly sinks back down into the chair. “… Well yeah I mean..” does he tell this 8 year old about the slightly murderous shades he’s got around him? “You have… you have a couple… apparations… yourself. Not related to the pearls that is.” Danny says hesitantly, eyes skipping over said shades.

Damian jerks his head to follow his eyes and Danny shirks back, eyes back on the kid.

“Who are they? Tell me now,” Damian demands, standing to loom over the table.

Danny puts his hands up in surrender, “Whoa, I don’t know about that, they don’t really seem too happy with you-“ Another one tries to slice his hand through Damian’s neck, “I think you did something to them or made them angry at some point. I don’t really think you should try to contact them-“ Danny winces, that could end very badly. Thank goodness for limited ectoplasm access.

Meanwhile, his answer seems to have only made Damian more upset, his eyes wide as he stares down at Danny.

Suddenly the kid turns and stamps towards the door, leaving Danny to hurriedly push the chair out and chase after him to the main room.

Except-

When he gets there Damian is already shooting hushed insults at a man standing amongst the crystals.

The man looks vaguely like Damian, black hair, blue eyes, lithe build, and oh also- surrounded by shades of course.

These ones seem less vicious at least.

Please don’t be here for him. Please don’t be here for him.

Danny really doesn’t want to try and fake his way through another hour or however long it’s been of that.

“Hey there! I’m Dick, Damian’s brother!” The man says suddenly, pushing Damian aside and coming forward with a cheery grin, “Thanks for humoring him!”

Danny tilts his head to see Damian’s scowling face behind the man. Right.

“Uh huh… I’m Danny.” He says, trying not to be distracted by what he’s pretty sure is a baby elephant’s ghost behind him.

“You’re the medium right? We were just so interested to see if that old family heirloom would have anything or not. We-“

“We?” Damian cuts him off with a scoff, “I will meet you in the vehicle Richard. I will not spend another minute in this house of charlatans.”

They both watch as the kid turns and stomps out the door, uncrossing his arms only to open the door and stomp out. The stupid bell rings merrily.

This time it’s not Danny who sighs.

“I wish he wouldn’t say things like that,” Dick says wearily, “I grew up in places like this.” There’s a note of nostalgia to his voice. Danny just eyes the bowl of ‘fertility’ crystals warily, what kind of place??

Dick must see him do it because he huffs a laugh, “I grew up in a circus originally,” he explains, “So psychic places always just kinda remind me of my auntie’s tents.”

Danny glances at the elephant shaped ghost again, “Wow that makes so much sense actually.”

The guy raises a confused eyebrow at him.

Danny coughs awkwardly, waving it away, “So, money?” He claps, “I’m guessing you’re paying since Damian is…” Danny trails off, opting not to make a final guess on age and embarrass himself.

Dick laughs again and they go over to the counter, “Yep, here-“ He pulls out his wallet, rifling through cash before pulling some out, “Cash only yeah? This should be enough.”

Danny stares at the stack of slightly rumpled bills, “But- huh?…” that was… that was so much…

“Oh I added extra since I’m sure he probably said some things he shouldn’t have, don’t worry about it.”

Dick is already halfway out the door when Danny reloads and jerks upwards, “Wai-“

Could Danny really stop him? Should he? He needed this money but… he stops to count it. $20..40..60..80..100..120….140……160….180……….$200.

Danny blanches. He lurches for the door, no way he can take this much money just for basically acting as a glorified ecto-translator.

Danny stops in his tracks as he steps outside the shop and spots Dick and Damian speaking to a third, much older person, over the hood of a sleek black car.

This person, of course, also has several, several, shades around them.

What the hell was wrong with this family?

Damian turns and glares his way.

Oh ancients what if they were part of the mob or something.

Danny spins around on his heel-

And smacks straight into the glass door of the shop.

…

Ow.

Danny rubs his nose as he fumbles around for the door handle, acutely aware the death covered family was probably staring at him.

He grabs the handle and pulls-

Danny freezes, hand on his sore face stopping. He opens his eyes as he yanks again. Nothing.

Oh heck, he just locked himself out didn’t he?

No please no, they were so definitely still staring, no way they weren’t. Danny pulls again and it finally-

He looks at the door handle in his hand.

Then at the door still closed in front of him.

Then back at the door handle.

Just the door handle.

Crap.

Danny nearly weeps, clumsily fitting the door handle back on and still adamantly refusing to look and see if Damian and his absurdly rich family has left yet. Other people on the street are also starting to stare. The same reason he can’t just use his powers.

He finally gets the handle back on and gingerly lets go of it.

Ok. Deep breath.

Claire warned you about this. With a sticky note, but all the same. Extra key is taped on the bottom of the fire hydrant right outside the shop. You’ve got this.

Danny turns, kneels, and frantically begins trying to find the key on the absurdly dirty fire hydrant.

His hands come away black with grime, but thankfully he has the key.

He puts it in the lock and turns it, hearing what may very well be the newest sound of his nightmares: a snap.

Most specifically the sound of the key snapping in Danny’s very hands.

Danny stares at the half of the key still held between his fingers.

Did he do something to this city? Was this his fault? Could he not just sit in a closet and wait for the portal to open and go home?

Danny sags against the door, and resigns himself to his fate. Maybe he can go get food… with the money he left on the counter. Great.

Danny peeks his eyes sideways and catches the guy, Dick, finally getting into their car.

Okay, just a tiny bit just a bit. Danny holds the key again, focuses on the lock in the door jam and….. intangible!

He yanks the door open and jumps inside, door closing against the flutters of quickly fading shades on the street.

And more than one scream at them but hey that’s not his problem.

Mostly.

Danny revels in the cool lighting of the shop, glaring at the stupid broken key in his grimy hands. He drops the useless bit of metal on the counter, pockets the cash and wipes his hands on the backside of one of Claire’s million wall curtains.

It leaves a black stain that basically disappears when Danny folds the fabric over it.

Oh well.

Technically the shop was still open.

And technically, Danny didn’t know if the lock did or didn’t work right now.

He moves to find whatever storage closet Claire used to store her absurd number of crystals.

He finds it- finally- and using the keys he left in the store to begin with, he is able to unlock the perfect place to sleep tonight amongst several packages of…. Some kind of incense powder… or something. He doesn’t really care because that plan of hiding in a closet till the portal opens? Yeah, Danny’s putting that into action right the frick now.

He bends down to start to lay out his sweatshirt over the cardboard bed-to-be.

A bell rings in the distance.

Danny is going to destroy that bell on the door, he swears it.

[landoughnut]

Dream Girl

♡masterlist - request

♡ pairing - lando norris x fem!reader

♡ summary - when being interviewed, the conversation gets on the topic of you, lando's long term obsession crush, never in a million years did he think you would actually notice him

♡ warnings - obsessed/simp lando

♡ w/c & a/n - 0.85k | I hope you all are doing good! as usual send any requests xoxo

"Good afternoon, Lando! We're happy to have you here with us today," the interviewer smiles, sat across from the driver.

"Great to be here," he nods, putting his hands on his lap and leaning back into the chair, "Wow, nice chairs you've got here."

The interviewer laughs, "Glad you approve of them. So, let's get started with the questions, shall we?" Lando nods and the lady clears her throat, "First off, when racing at the high speeds you do, what are some things you're thinking about? Or maybe I should say, a someone?"

Let's rewind. If there was one thing, besides being a Formula 1 driver, that everyone knew Lando Norris for, it was having the world's most massive crush on you. In fact, pretty much everyone was aware of this; except for you.

You wouldn't call yourself oblivious, per se. You just weren't really one to be online, so you never saw all the drama surrounding Lando's infatuation with you.

He has been enamored with you for about three years now, and he made it everyone's problem. From liking instagram updates of you, to commenting on pictures and videos of you, to even reposting edits of you. His friends must have sat through hours and hours of hearing him just speak about your beauty and personality.

His friends teased him about it quite often, though he was never really embarrassed over it. He truly just found everything about you beautiful, you were his dream girl, everything he'd ever want in a woman.

"Well, uh, I think about, you know, winning. Also what I'm going to eat after, and uh.. my girl," he nods with a slight grin.

The interviewer raises her eyebrows, "I wasn't informed you finally got a girlfriend," she says, surprised.

He laughs and shakes his head, "No, no. She's not my girlfriend... yet. Although I'm not even sure if she knows that I exist, but I'm working on it."

"Ah, I should have known," the lady smiles at his flustered state, "I wish you luck with that. Now I believe we should move onto the more important questions, before I get in trouble," she taps on her clipboard.

The rest of the interview seemed like forever for Lando, now that he was thinking about you again, as he usually is.

You're in your bed, watching one of your favorite shows, How I Met Your Mother, when your phone starts to blow up with your friends messaging you and sending you a link to a YouTube video of some F1 interview.

You open the video is none other than the very cute, Lando Norris. Of course you knew who he was, you kept up with Formula 1 on your free time and enjoyed watching the races.

As the video is playing through, you open the comments and your eye go wide at everyone saying your name and commenting on how hot of a couple you two would make. You furrow your eyebrows at some comments talking about how devoted to you he must be for liking you for several years without a single interaction.

You continue to watch the video and your cheeks turn pink as he talks about, well you. You couldn't believe that he liked you like that, surely you were well-known, and you weren't too bad looking, but one of the best current racers in the world crushing on you?

After the video ended you messaged your best friend back, asking what you should do. She, of course, told you to message him on instagram.

You thought over the idea for a bit, before nervously clicking on his account and following him back before beginning to type.

Lando was hanging out with Oscar around the garage when he hears his phone ping with a notification. He glances at it and turns his phone off again before doing a double check to make sure he saw it right. You had followed him.

"OSCAR," he yells and turns to his friend, holding the phone in his face, "SHE FOLLOWED ME, LOOK," he waves the phone.

Oscars jaw drops, never did he see this day coming, "Wow! Mate, thats fantastic, and look! It seems like she just sent you a message!"

"What? I might faint, Oscar," the boys hands shake with excitement and nerves as he clicks on your message. "Hi! I saw your interview, and I must say, I'm truly flattered," Lando reads as his face turns dark pink, he didn't think you'd see it, guess he was wrong.

Oscar starts laughing, "Text her back!"

"I don't know what to say, I've never spoken to her in my life," he panics.

"Mate, she saw you call her your girl, it's a bit too late to be nervous," Oscar smiles, patting his friend's pack. Lando chews his lip and writes back, heart pounding.

After a few messages were exchanged and an anticipated Oscar waiting for an update clears his throat, Lando looks up from the phone with the brightest smile Oscar has ever seen on him, "Guess who scored himself a date with his future wife this Saturday?"

[crunchystarz]

TWST SELF AWARE AU—series

|Overblot boys x Gn!reader

Cw- this is a yandere series so the basic stuff like obsessive and possessive behavior, isolation all that good yandere stuff will be present (remember none of this behavior is healthy nor do I condone it this is purely for entertainment pls take care of yourselves)

Summary: You're just a college student trying to survive, you download a game out of pure curiosity and boredom, you really get into it soon your app starts acting strange. Hey are your things being moved around? You don't remember falling asleep in your bed. Perchance you're losing your mind— or there are 7 guys who all equally want your attention and overloaded their code to get it.

A/n: my twst self aware au has been some of my most popular posts and I get the most asks/req for it, it also so happens to be my favorite to write so I wanted to actually make a fic with it with actual plot and story— there is a category in my master list for all the other stuff with that au but none of it is really needed to understand the plot!(It will still be following main ideas abt this au ofc) This is short and really just an introduction🙂‍↕️

☆PROLOGUE—

Prologue [you are here] , CHAP1

You were tired, your eye bags proved that. They were heavy and a clear sign of the lack of sleep you had been getting the last few days. You finally got some rest time after you finished turning in work for your finals. Classes have started to be less hectic and work hasn't been as bad. You could relax. You lay in bed, scrolling through your recommended list for apps on your phone. One in particular catches your eye. You don't strike yourself as a huge Disney fan. Sure you liked some of the movies and shows mostly stuff you had enjoyed since you were young but you never were super extreme about it.

Twisted Wonderland. Interesting concept for a game. You rolled over in your side and swiped through the information on it. You let out a yawn before clicking download. A game based on Disney villains how intriguing besides It would be nice to have more things on your phone other than whatever free games came pre-installed. You rubbed your eyes, waiting for the downloading bar to complete.

After a few minutes of staring at your screen the download was complete. You opened the app. Too tired to use your brain to come up with a good name for your character you just left it blank. Yuu was good enough for you not like you were going to play the game too much anywho.

Turns out you were going to play the game a lot more than you'd like to admit. The story was fun you enjoyed the characters and it also had a gacha aspect. What could you say it kept you quite entertained throughout the day. You started getting into the fandom culture a bit even. You especially liked the overblot boys , they were your favorites.

You didn't know you were their favorite too.

You tapped away at your phone in your apartment elevator. You had come back from a mandatory lecture, you were beyond tired and you felt your eyes fighting the urge to close. Yet you had to do your dailies. You opened the app you had been obsessing over the past week.

"Huh?" You exclaimed out loud. Causing the others in the elevator to give you weird looks. You awkwardly laughed and hurried out the elevator. Leona was present on your home screen but last time you checked it should have been Jamil. How odd. Maybe you just forgot you had changed it. Ended up embarrassing yourself in front of people you don't know over something so silly.

You sighed as you fumbled with your keys. You'd never been happier to see your apartment. You sat down your bags on the chair near your island before making your way over to your couch and crashing. You didn't have the energy to go all the way to your room even if it wasn't much of a walk.

You pulled back at your phone and stared at the screen for awhile just watching Leona's character idly blink and occasionally speak. Something felt off, something about his character made you feel a little uncomfortable. He felt too real.

What are you talking about? You're going crazy. You're just tired and need some rest. You rolled over and tapped his character. His ears twitch and his face scrunches up slightly. Was he...blushing? You hadn't seen this Sprite before. Maybe it came with the update?

Too sleepy to care you turned off your device and snuggled into the throw pillow on your couch. You needed some rest.

—

Leona was a fool. A huge fool but he didn't care when he could almost feel you through the screen. Jamil was still pissed at him but how could he care?

He was one of the first few to realize something was wrong. Something was wrong with their world. Something was up with the little perfect of ramshackle. Ruggie called him paranoid yet something about the way they carried themselves was too practiced too perfect. It unsettled him, made his fur stick up.

His paranoia branched out to obsessive behavior. Yuu was odd. Magicless human from another world were odd in itself but something about them. He soon found out he wasn't the only one who had taken an interest in the perfect . He knew he wasn't going crazy there was something wrong with them. Something wrong with him. With everyone in that damn school.

Fake. All of it was fake. Leona found that out. He saw you first. The real you. Not the illusion that stood in your place.You. Maybe it was because it was the first real thing he'd ever actually felt. Something stirred in him. It wasn't programmed in him to feel. He wasn't supposed to.

Unfortunately like stated before he wasn't the only one who became too curious and learned too much. Everyone who was victim to the unusual overblots became hyper aware of their existence. Of how everything about them was mere programming and code. It was all a game. Their entire lives was nothing but something strug together by some unknown creator.

But you were real. You were the only thing real and they became obsessed with that. They all craved your attention all craved to learn more because you were the only thing that was real. You were like their god nothing mattered but you. Not your stand in persona Yuu no —you. You were theirs. You just didn't know it yet.

You were blissfully unaware of the seven guys behind your phone screen who stopped paying attention to all around them because why would they? What's the point if they're not actually real. They're just characters built to co-exist with them. Not important not real. Not you

MASTERLIST

[luveline]

jade!! I come on hands and knees begging for more rockstar!remus with shy!reader. I LOVE THEM. how are they doing?!

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

You fit the part, tonight. Marlene has dressed you in her clothes —you wear a dark jacket covered in gothic, skeletal linework, a skirt barely long enough to show beneath it, with black tights and tall shoes. 

Remus isn’t sure what it is about the slightly too big jacket that he likes so much. Maybe it’s your thighs on show, shadowed flanks of softness he knows too well. It could be your eyes, their ringing of dark kohl, your lengthened lashes. Perhaps it’s none of those things. After all, Remus has always loved to watch you laugh. 

James thrusts his pint against yours, a splash of his cherry cider lapping the end of the cup to seep into your lemonade. Remus is unsure if there’s anything in it of substance, but you sip it through a breathless laugh and confirm that it hasn’t changed. No harm, no foul. 

Remus taps his cigarette carton against the table out of habit. Sirius reaches for him before Remus has even split the seal, fingers pinching, pale hand expectant. Remus knocks into them with the carton and turns so Sirius can’t see him opening the box. “Thought you were off them?” Remus asks, quiet with the slower atmosphere at the table, so far from the bar. 

“Can anyone ever really be off them?” Sirius asks. 

He pressed himself into Remus’ arm, all the overfamiliarity of a best, best friend. Searching for comfort and selfish vices. 

Remus hugs him suddenly, a rough arm around the back of his head in a hold that tugs curls as he uses the other hand to slide a cigarette between his lips. “Here, you baby.”

“Fuck off,” Sirius says around it. 

Remus takes his own cigarette and shoves the box back in his pocket. Sirius lights his own, lights Remus’, and together they tip their heads back, getting a glance at the oranging ceiling and the upstairs drinking pit. 

“She’s sweet, letting Marl dress her up a bit.” 

“Makes Marlene feel better,” Remus says. 

“Yeah, it does. Reckon she and Mary will mend it?” 

Remus shrugs. The love triangle between Mary, Marlene and Dorcas is confusing. He loves them, though, so it’s a confusing he understands. “It won't be long before we find out.” 

You, James and Emmeline begin to make your way back to the table. You have two drinks each, too many for the amount of people, though none of you seem to have noticed. You’re just giggling and meandering around low chairs until you get there. 

James slams his drinks down and grabs you from the side. “My sweethearts, I return the sweethearts.” 

“Can I have one?” Emmeline asks. 

Remus passes her the cigarette carton dutifully. 

“Can I–”

“No,” Remus says. 

You squint at him. “Don’t be weird,” you say, embarrassed, taking the box when Emme passes it, sliding it between painted lips, “I’m not a baby.” 

You talk around the cigarette with the ease of practice. If there’s one thing life on the road gives, it’s addiction. Remus is thankful that you and all of your friends chose nicotine. 

“You’re trying to quit.” Remus feels the funny burn of smoke as he inhales again. “And I’m trying to help you.” 

“Same help you gave Sirius, clearly,” James says. 

“C’mere,” Remus says, opening his arm for you. “Come on.” 

You grin and weave around Emme to his side of the table, propping a drink in front of him. “For you.” 

“Thank you.” He blows smoke as far from your face as he can manage and tucks you under his arm. 

The makeup on your lips is rubbing off, a darker outlining with light insides, but it’s enough to express Marl’s taste. Remus will be happy to kiss the rest of it away later on, when James and Sirius are drunk enough to become openly obsessed with one another and leave him alone, carving out some rare alone time. 

You smoke as Remus taught you to. He remembers the day, your shaking, his chest pain, not wanting to corrupt you and yet enlivened by the way you looked trying to foster the flame at the end of it. Nicotine helps calm your nerves, which you’re often in need of, but Remus never meant for it to become a crux. He snuffs his cigarette in the ashtray and catches yours to do the same, barely two puffs in. 

“Wha–”

“Let me have a look at you,” he says. 

Your friends scoff and jeer but quickly move on. Remus catches your chin between his fingers. 

He’s not like Sirius. He couldn’t do this to any girl, can’t seduce like that, but it’s not any girl he touches. Your eyes go to swimming pleasure as he pulls you forward, edging downward to kiss you. You both taste of smoke, of drink, and it would put him off if there wasn’t something sweeter to be chased in your mouth. He kisses you like there’s no one at the table but you.

He’s had more to drink than he thinks. 

“You taste like jaeger,” you say, pulling away with cheeks he’d find hot if he were to cradle and a shy smile. 

“Do I?” 

“That’s a thousand times worse for you than those, you know.” You point at his quickly dwindling pack of cigarettes. 

Remus curls an arm behind your neck and kisses you again. James cheers, says, “Fuck, I wish Moony kissed me like that,” and Remus tries his best to ignore him, but you’re laughing. The kiss breaks.

“Just ask him nicely like I do,” you advise. 

“You know that doesn’t work!” James says, tipping his head back with a hand to the forehead. “I always ask him nicely, he just doesn’t want to kiss me. Must be something about you…” He gives a huge smile as he lifts his cider.  “Something I don’t have?” 

“Impossible,” Sirius says blithely, “you’ve everything, gorgeous boy.” 

“Something about you,” Remus echoes. 

You shake your head minutely, a silent warning. Don’t flirt with me, it says. Don’t torture me. 

“How do you want the answer?” Remus asks, sliding his arm back behind your shoulders, pulling your burning face against his neck. “I can give it to you in an essay or a list, but it’s an extensive explanation.” 

“Write it down for me.”

[p1astr81]

Hey!! Can write something where the reader it's an youtuber, and she invaited Oscar to make a video with him, but he's shy.

Oh and the video it's this type where they are just sittin in the car in an parkinlot of somewhere. 🥰😊

(It's like 'Stuniolos Triplets' type of video)

thank Tara Yummy for her “stuck in a car” videos otherwise I’d have zero clue on how to execute this😀

“Hey guys it’s y/n y/l/n and on todays installment of hot seat I’m here with…” you gestured your hands over to him.

He gave an awkward wave. “Hi I’m Oscar Piastri.”

Your smile spread. “Do you want to tell them what you do?”

“I am a formula one driver for McLaren, and… yeah.”

You tried not to laugh at his awkwardness, but you couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped. “Okay, yes.” You nodded. “Seven wins to his name. Five this season. A 55% win rate this season, that’s pretty impressive.” You tapped his arm with the back of your hand.

He just shrugged.

“Humble as ever.” You laughed. “Okay, wait I need to show you something.” You popped open the glove box, and pulled out an air freshener, printed with his face.

His lips split in a smile, his hand coming up to cover his mouth in shock.

“I hid it because I didn’t want to seem like a creep but I need to show my credentials.”

“So you’re a fan?” He quirked a brow.

“I am a fan, yes.” You paused, then let out a small scream. “Oh my god this is embarrassing.” Hid your face, straightening out your expression before resurfacing. “I’m chill.”

He laughed.

“Okay, but I bought you a gift.” You changed the topic, reaching behind you to grab the wrapped gift.

He took it from your hands and shook it. “Are these Tim tams?”

You hit the dash. “Damnnit! How’d you know?”

He shrugged again and tore the wrapping paper. “This is good because I haven’t been home in a while and I keep forgetting to ask my mom to send me some.” He opened the package. “Can I have one?”

“Yes, they’re yours.” You laughed. “Just don’t tell artturi.”

He looked at you in suspicion. “So you’re like a fan fan?”

“Why would you… oh.” Your face burned in embarrassment. “Is it weird?”

Oscar laughed and shook his head.

As the video progressed, and Oscar got more comfortable, he became more talkative.

“Do you like driving? Like off the track.”

His face scrunched up as he thought about it. “Sometimes. It depends on the day, I think. If it’s right after a triple header I’m really just, uh, sick of it. Any other time I don’t really mind. I do get road rage though.” He confessed.

Your jaw dropped. “Really? You just seem so like—you’re going to hate me for saying this—but you seem so level headed and calm. I’d never expect that from you.”

“I wouldn’t say it comes naturally for me to be calm, I think it definitely takes some conscious effort, but yeah. Everyone is always shocked to hear me say that.”

You glanced at the time. “Oh! We’ve been here over an hour now!” Then you turned to him. “Before we leave, what was your hot seat experience? Rate it from 1 to 10.” You clasped your hands together.

“I’d give it a nine.” He shrugged.

“Really? When did lose points?”

“When you knew my trainer’s name.”

You hid your face in embarrassment. “Right. No, yeah that makes sense.”

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time He Sabotaged My Date”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: yandere(ish)!Sukuna, fluff but he’s kinda very toxic, stalking, fem implied reader (wearing a dress and heels), brief mention of a bomb (there aren’t any bombs present), narration is from Sukuna’s POV

Word Count: 1.78k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Whoever decided this dingy shithole is a decent place to take you on a date should be fucking shot.

Maybe it was wrong of Sukuna to eavesdrop on your private conversation this morning, but in his defense you were talking on the phone loud as hell in the middle of the living room. Should’ve been quieter when you were telling your friend about the date you had planned for tonight.

And maybe it’s weird that Sukuna secretly followed you here to keep an eye on you, but it’s not like he has nefarious intentions. He’s heard of this place and one, it’s fucking gross, and two, it’s got one hell of a reputation to say the least. Definitely the kind of place for someone to get murdered, he’s just watching out for your safety!

Oh christs sake, who is he fooling? No, he followed you here because he’ll be damned if you get a boyfriend.

He feels like a creep, sitting at the bar behind your table in a black hoodie and an old baseball cap, eyes fixed on the back of your head. The guy sitting across from you is so bland, yet for some reason you’re still giggling and twirling your hair around your finger as if you don’t know that you can do so much better.

There was no need for you to doll yourself up for this fuckin’ loser; you’ve got on a pretty red dress and stiletto heels, probably anticipating him to take you somewhere nice, decent, at least. But he brought you to some run down shithole restaurant that hasn’t been renovated since the 70’s and is definitely bearing several health code violations. It’s honestly embarrassing, Sukuna would take you somewhere so much nicer than this, he knows what you deserve.

He’s been sitting at the bar sipping on his drink for the last half hour, watching the way you prop your elbow onto the table, cross your legs in your seat, tap your heel against the leg of your chair, listening to you laugh and chat about your job. Meanwhile, mister nobody in front of you is chewing with his mouth open like some kind of ape, not realizing how much of a privilege he has by being able to treat you to dinner. Un-fucking-believable.

Finally the moment he’s been waiting for happens. Bland And Boring stands up from his seat and leaves you at the table to go use the restroom, so now it’s time for Sukuna to get this fool away from you. His eyes follow the man as he walks past the bar, not even trying to be discreet. He gives Sukuna a quick glance and nods his head politely, making his way towards the bathrooms near the front of the restaurant.

There’s no time to waste.

Sukuna stands from his seat at the bar, trailing behind your date and following him into the bathroom. As the door clicks shut behind him he realizes that it’s just the two of them. Perfect, no interruptions.

He walks up behind the man, watching him through the large mirror above the sinks. Now that he’s up close he can really see how pathetic this guy is, nervously looking up towards Sukuna as he absolutely towers above him, his stature menacing and the look in his eyes bordering on deadly.

“D-do you need some-”

“You should leave.” Your date jumps at the sound of Sukuna’s voice; dark, deep, and serious.

“Um… why?” His eyes flicker around the room, definitely praying to whatever god he believes in to come save him.

Sukuna is surprised he isn’t immediately obeying. Has he grown soft? Surely not, this guy just needs a little extra push.

So Sukuna says the first thing that comes into mind.

“I have a bomb.”

Maybe that’s a little dramatic, but god damn does it do the trick. The guy looks like he’s about to fucking piss himself, eyes widening in terror as he quickly nods his head and runs out of the restaurant.

Sukuna keeps a keen eye on him through the windows, watching him nearly leap into his car and hearing the tires screech as he speeds out of the parking lot. It seems you also had an eye on your date, your jaw nearly dropping to the floor as you assumed that he just ditched you with the bill.

Now’s his time to shine.

He stuffs his hat into the front pocket of his hoodie and strides up behind you to your table, bending down to be eye level with you in the booth and putting on his best mildly surprised and kind of amused expression, “Well look at that.”

“Ugh, god.” You bury your face into your hands, “And here I thought my day couldn’t get any worse.”

He can’t help the smirk that grows on his face. It is his fault you’re in this situation, but I mean come on, that guy was no good for you anyway. “You sample the whole fuckin’ menu or something?”

You groan and roll your eyes, perfect, you took the bait, “I just got dine and dashed, asshole.”

Sukuna lets out a laugh as he flops down into the seat across from you, god if only you knew. A man would have to be a real idiot to stand you up, but he has to try and keep his act together, “Yeah? Guys are fuckin’ assholes, surprise.”

The pout on your face is too sweet, makes it hard for him to really feel bad, “I was really liking him too.”

Oh, he definitely doesn’t feel bad now. He pulls his card out of his wallet as the waitress approaches the table, handing it off to her nonchalantly as he continues the conversation, “Don’t know why you bother going on dates with these guys.”

You try to interject the waitress but she walks away before you can stop her, a defeated frown pulling down your lips, “What are you doing here anyway?”

He plops his elbow onto the table, shrugging his shoulders casually, “What? Am I not allowed to go to my favorite shitty restaurant?”

You perk up slightly, “Right? I saw a roach on the way in, I can’t believe he recommended this place.”

The waitress comes back and hands Sukuna his card, he quickly scribbles his signature on the receipt and stands from his seat at the booth, “Let’s get you out of here before you get ringworm or some shit, nasty fuckin’ place.”

Finally a smile creeps onto your face, lighting up the dreary atmosphere. You adjust your dress as you stand up and he can’t help but smirk at how good you look all dolled up, dark red dress hugging your figure as if you wore it for him. He leads you out of the restaurant, making sure to hold the door open for you since he noticed that your loser date let it slam in your face on your way in.

Droplets of rain were starting to sprinkle down, which is pretty unlucky considering it’s a ten minute walk back to the apartment. But that’s not a problem for Sukuna, if anything it’s a perfect opportunity. He catches the frown curling down your pouty lips as you fix your fingers through your nicely styled hair, probably trying to keep it from getting messed up, and without missing a beat he pulls his hoodie off, sliding it over your head and down your arms.

“I’m sure you spent hours dolling yourself up, would hate to ruin it.” His voice is smooth as butter, leaning down to eye level with you as he adjusts the hood to make sure your hair is covered.

A blush creeps onto your face, mumbling a quiet “Thank you” as you pull your arms through the sleeves. It honestly looks like you’re drowning in his massive hoodie, the sleeves too long for your arms that your fingers can’t even peek out and the hem at the bottom falling at your upper thighs.

Sukuna thought you looked good in that red dress, but god damn you look heavenly wearing his clothes. Why didn’t he do this sooner?

You both start to walk down the sidewalk to the apartment, the evening is quiet save for the muffled sounds of music and chatter coming from the bars and restaurants that you pass by. You’re walking right up against his side, your arm occasionally brushing against his and he can’t help but wonder if you’re getting closer on purpose.

Sukuna breaks the peaceful silence, “So was the food good at least?”

You look up towards him quizzically, squinting your eyes in a way that’s too fucking cute for him to handle, “Shouldn’t you be the expert?”

“Why t’fuck would I know? Never been there.”

“I thought that was your favorite shitty restaurant?”

Oops.

He got way too distracted looking into your pretty eyes. Lucky for him, he didn’t need to come up with an excuse to cover him because a loud snap rings through the air as you stumble forward. His arm quickly wraps around your waist to steady you before you can fall, holding you flush against him.

You look down at your feet and let out a loud groan of frustration, “Fucks sake, really?” You lift your foot up to inspect your shoe, your stiletto heel barely dangling by a thread as it snapped off from the sole.

Sukuna didn’t mean to laugh, but there was no containing it. You look up at him with an adorable angry face, cheeks burning red as you curse him out and it only makes him smile more. You’re just too damn cute when you’re pissed off.

“It’s not funny! These were expensive!”

“Yeah yeah, c’mere.” His arm stays wrapped around your waist as he leans down and hooks his other arm behind your knees, lifting you off the ground with ease as you squeal in surprise and wrap your arms around his neck to cling onto him.

Now he could bet that other guy wouldn’t do this for you, not just was he scrawny as all hell but he wouldn’t be nearly enough of a gentleman. Your arms tighten around the back of Sukuna’s neck as he starts walking to the apartment again, your cheek nuzzled against his shoulder as you slowly relax into his hold. He’s actually liking this a lot, silently considering purposely taking a wrong turn on the way home so he can hold you longer.

Hopefully after this you’ll stop going on stupid dates with worthless men, you’ve already got everything you could ever want right at home after all. Soon enough you’ll realize that you don’t need anyone but him.

A/N: This was SO FUN to write!! I love him he’s such an asshole askakksksk, I rlly liked the idea of doing a light hearted yandere part (even tho NOBODY asked for this skaksksk) Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[hannie-berrie]

WEAK HERO CLASS 1-2 ‘s reactions to their S/O teasing them.

Minors DNI

Yeon Sieun:

A quiet evening at home, you and your boyfriend’s favourites. He’s deep into a book, studying some new topic he’s really into, something intellectual and absorbing.

Things have been too peaceful, and you couldn’t let Sieun be at peace for long periods of time, being the tease you are, it was your mission to be his late night problem.

You casually lean over him with a playful smirk on your face

“You know, for someone so ‘rational,’ you blush surprisingly easy when I do this…” You trailed your fingers along his back and neck as you whispered in his ear

Sieun stiffened slightly, not expecting so much play from you, he’s caught off guard but not uncomfortable. His mind raced for a moment, analyzing the little game you’re playing and trying to anticipante your next moves.

His eyes are still fixed on his book sheet, trying to maintain composure but the slight blush on his cheeks betrays him.

He turns to you slowly, with a calm expression but his eyes are locked onto yours.

“You’re dangerously good at interrupting my concentration. You plan that?” He gives you a very slight smirk. Not the playful way but more so the « I can’t belive this » way.

“Maybe. What are you going to do about it?”

The challenge turned him on more than expected, he’s tempted to throw you on the bed behind you and give you a lesson but he kept his almost too calm tone

“Document it, then retaliate when you least expect it. Consider yourself… warned.”

He goes back to his task, but you notice the subtle shift in his behaviour. The way he taps his pen on his desk, shakes his leg under the table, the forced extra focus on his reading.

It’s his way of reclaiming control, but you’ve won. His focus is gone and all he can think about is the ways he wants to fuck you dumb.

Ahn Suho:

You and your boyfriend ate some chicken leftovers for dinner, as you both love that dish. You’re sat on the counter, legs swinging, watching your boyfriend dry the dishes, shirtless.

“You know, for someone who talks big at the gym, I expected more… definition.”

Suho turns his head just slightly your way, not stopping his task. “Oh yeah?” he laughs to himself “You sure you wanna go there?”

You smile and look down at your feet

“I’m just saying… Maybe those flexing selfies are doing more work than the actual workouts.”

Suho drops the plate he’s cleaning and with soapy hands, he grabs your face “That mouth of yours is dangerous.” He leans in close, the goal is the to get you nervous and back down. “You really think I’m all talk, huh?”

He grins, “Careful, babe. I might just prove you wrong, right here, right now.”

He lifting you up the counter and wrapped your legs around his waist

He teases back, “Still think I’m just talk?”

Seo Joontae:

Joontae is the most fun to tease, he melts under your touch, your voice, sometimes even under no pressure at all. Tonight you wore one of his shirts, barely covering your lower half, you knew about it, but didn’t care.

“What are you doing?” You interrupted his personal time

Joontae turns your way and his mouth drop a little, eyes flickering at your bare lower body.

“A-ah I’m not doing anything special.. You look- uh-.. really good right now.” He looked up at you with such big round eyes you could ruin him right now. But you decide to edge him on a little more,

“You always say that like you’re embarrassed you’re thinking it.” You sit your bare ass down on his lap with such casual confidence, running a hand through his hair.

“Tell me what you were doing before I walked in. Was it innocent.. or should I be worried?” You tease his lips with your index finger

Joontae’s cheeks are flaming hot, his stuttering habits showing once more, they were especially obvious when you were teasing him

“I-I wasn’t… It wasn’t like that, I just… I was just drawing. I didn’t expect you to-”

Your finger resting on his lips traced a slow way down his neck “Exactly. You never expect me. That’s what makes you so much fun to play with.”

His breath catches. He wants to lean into it, but also feels exposed. He gives a soft whimper of a laugh, wrapping his arms around your waist in self-defense more than boldness.

Park Hoomin (Baku):

You walk back from the grocery store, sharing a bag of snack. It’s golden hour, and he’s carrying most of the bags, even the ones you insisted you could handle. He’s wearing a compression shirt that he definitely chose on purpose.

“You know, I could carry some of those.”

“I know. But then you’d miss the view of me being unnecessarily heroic.”

Hoomin never lost an opportunity to be cocky. His cockiness made him even more charismatic in a way.

“Wow. How would I survive. ”

He nudged you with his elbow

“Hey, I’m just lifting the groceries to save your back from suffering, what a good man I am”

“Truly a Greek god in a Trader Joe’s parking lot.”

He laughs warmly, your quick responses is what he loves most about you. The way you can dodge his comments and make better ones.

“You joke, but if carrying your groceries scores me one of those cute smiles, I’ll do it every time.”

You shook your head, his words melting your heart a little, trying not to grin, but it’s still showing a little. He catches it, and you can tell he lives for that moment.

Go Hyuntak:

The tension has been in the air all day long, nothing big but teasing, subtle distance like you’ve been messing with his head on purpose. You’ve been purposely avoiding him after dropping suggestive comments, playing hot and cold and driving him nuts. You’re now finally at his place.

“You’ve been weirdly quiet today, what’s up with that? »

Hyuntak came closer to you

“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Doing what?” Your fake innocence was only rilling him more.

“Testing me. Pulling back. Acting like I’m not crawling out of my skin wanting you to just stop teasing.”

You tried to argue back but he cut the distance in between your bodies even more, one hand on the wall behind you.

“You know I don’t do halfway. If you’re gonna look at me like that, teasing me in public, displaying to everyone that we aren’t « just friends ». Then you better be ready when I call you on it.”

Hyuntak was always big on privacy. He gladly agreed to be fuck buddies when you asked for it. He has liked you since grade 1 but knowing it’s not reciprocated, your little games messed with his naturally impatient temper even more.

Bonus! Geum SeongJe

It’s late at night and you’re in his upscale apartment. Cozy, wearing your boyfriend’s jacket like you own it. Waiting for his return home.

He’s came back late from something messy, business or something more dangerous, the kind he doesn’t explain. You’re aware he fights a lot but he likes to come home to some peace.

You’re sitting on his couch, legs curled up,

“You didn’t text. Again.”

Seongje grabs himself a drink, not paying attention to you. “Because you’d worry. And I don’t feel like hearing you lecture me. ”

“So you just disappear?”

“I’m not in the habit of reporting my movements. Not even to you.”

You flinch as he stepped closer to you, eyes sharp, staring you down

“But I watched you from the cameras when I left. All night. You didn’t even open the door. Good girl.”

His low voice has you swallow down your own bitterness. He really had a way to put your behaviour back in place with simple words. He’s close to you now, eyes almost cutting you down, amused by both your anger at him but also how easy he was able to shut you up.

“You’re insane. You know that, right?”

“Probably. But you still haven’t left.”

You don’t move, his finger slides along you jaw, you can’t tell if it’s suggestive or threatening

“You think you want nice. But you don’t. Don’t you love the idea of me possibly being watching you, at any angle, any moment I wish for? I bet that turns you on, and that’s why you stare right at the camera in our bedroom.. when you touch yourself in my absence, hm?”

Your eyes grew bigger and your hear dropped, you felt naked, called out.

“You’re mine. »

[gamblersdoll]

drunk! bakugou, ex! bakugou , masturbation (m received)

it had been hell without you.

many months that you both broken up, damn near a year since the day you both argued like wolves and you both threw your hands up, saying you were done.

bakugou had liked to think that he broke up with you, not the other way around. he always told his people or the media, “i broke up with her, she just wasnt working for me.” and in reality? neither one of you broke up with each other. it was simple: you both separated, not one separate from each other.

but he couldnt let you have the last laugh.

he hated how much his friends would come to your defense— he knew they would, the countless talks of how he was wrong about some things. in pretense, he got mad that you didnt answer your phone on your way home from work (i mean, how could you? youre driving, for fucks sake), and he blew you off just to try and show you a lesson.

boy, did he get an earfull from kirishima.

he hated it. he hated you.

he hated how you moved out and post your pictures like with no flaw, no matter what. you were smiling. he hated how you look so good, and youre back on the platforms of dating.

he hated how he let you go.

he hated how he was somewhat insecure with his masculinity and thought that he was just some plaything you had— also matched with his flowing ego, it was a mental battle with himself.

the burn of the hennessy breached his lips, his adams apple bobbing after he tossed his head back. “fuck..”

“not you bein’ an alcoholic.” kaminari giggled, elbowing him. “the breakup that bad?”

“you better stop before he becomes an angry drunk.” kirishima warns, reminding kaminari and the past fight he and the blonde had. “lets go, we’ll be back man.”

“awh, where we goin?” kaminari asked, putting some pep in his step and letting the door slam behind him.

bakugou did miss you. he missed finding random coils of hair in his bathroom, he missed finding random bonnets of yours that you lost from months ago. he missed the smell of honey and brown sugar from your skin. he missed the random meals that he came home to.

he took things for granted— no, he didnt take shit for granted. you just didnt respect the fact he was your man.

and yet, he thought about how bad he missed the slick of your creamy slit. he missed his balls slapping against your clit when he tapped that ass. he missed the way youd scream for him. maybe its the drunk getting to his brain, the warm tingles of his skin and hes whipping his dick out from his jeans. he tugs at the tip, a guttural groan from his lips— and he’s scrambling to find his phone.

“hello?” you ask, the ‘unknown number’ on your screen and you hear shuffling. “whos’ this?”

“hey,” katsuki mumbles, you can hear it: hes dark liquor drunk. there was a difference, especially when he drank wine for the first time. “how ya doin?”

“katsuki?” you’re dumbfounded, its been damn near a year. “what do you want? to bother me again? we’re done.” you grit your teeth, really not in the mood for his games. you were just about to hit the fattest joint, (one that mina gave you months ago), and here he was.

“cmon, bruh,” he groans, you hear that damned shuffle again, his hand half hazardly tugging his shaft again. “been thinkin’ bout you, girl.”

“katsuki,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “we. are. done. i dont want shit to do with you.”

“cmon, baby,” he whines, and you hear something wet in the background. you want to question him, but embarrassment flows your veins. “just hear me outtt..”

“im fuckin deaf then. hear no evil, see no evil.” you snip back, and he laughs. “i wont ask again, the fuck you want.”

“been thinkin bout you nd i,” he starts, and you hear it— hes fucking his own fist. “been thinking about what the hell we had and then— god, fuck..” he says lowly, you feel like hes just called for a quick fuck. “then how i ruined it entirely.”

“so.. you call to talk about how you miss me, meanwhile youve got your dick in yer hand?” you ask, and he sucks his teeth. “dont catch an attitude.”

“ ‘m not.. but.” he sighs, fondling his balls and he stutters. “i want you back.”

“youre drunk.”

“i mean that, mama..” he softly says. ‘mama,’ the nickname he gave you and how much you fell in love with it. “miss you like shit, when could i come see you?”

“the next time i post myself.” you say snarky, and he gets really quiet. “i dont know, katsuki. i did move a little further away.”

“thats fine, ill make the commute.” he feels his nipples harden, and he moans a little when he quickens his pace. “fuckfuckfuck—fuck..” he chants, his conscious mind slipping in and out. “want you so bad, baby,” he chokes out, “you hear how fuckin riled you get me?”

you want to pull your panties to the side and help him come, you remember those times youd both walk in on each other and just watch each other play with your nerves.

“ fuck, send me your location.” he says, so close to his tipping point and you can hear it. “lemme see you, baby. miss that pretty fuckin’ pussy.”

“youre drunk, boy.” you mumble, but he groans. “maybe sometime this week?”

“ugh,” he sighs, practically teasing himself with the slow and mean tugs from his dickhead. “at least let me see that pussy over the phone, need it so bad.” he says, a chuckle from his lips, “cant come to any other woman, just that little pretty pussy of yers..”

“im on my period, bakugou.”

“uh uh, thats not my name baby.” he snickers, “what happened to me bein yer’ daddy, huh? did you forget that much?” he feels it coming on him, creeping. that orgasm that was so close and he wanted nothing more than to cover your face white. “shitt.. just call me that, please. want to be your big daddy again— and ill fuck you slow nd’ stupid.”

you ponder on it, your fingertips slowly creeping to your panties. “what do i get in return?”

“me, a fat cock inside that needy pussy, and a redo.” he was borderline pleading, but he needed you so bad.

you hum, pulling your sticky panties away from your cunny. “you like me calling you big daddy, huh?” you tease , hearing his low but obvious growl from his throat. “take that as a yes.”

“fuck, that shouldve been yer face i just came on.” he sighs, moving his hand to wipe the sweat away from his brow. “send me your location tomorrow.” he demands, hearing you chuckle and then the end call tone. “fucking— girl..”

“missed you that badly, didnt he?” hitoshi asks, looking up at you through your thighs. “be a good girl and admit that you miss him.”

“i.. i do.” you mumble, hearing his slurps and suckles at your thighs. “toshi!”

“didnt even have to use my quirk.” he chuckles, his lazy eyes and eyebags bore into you. “fuck, how could he let this pussy free? poor thing.”

“he’s gonna be so pissed.” you groan, covering your eyes. “you know he hates you.”

“so? shouldnt have let me catch you.”

𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖽𝗈𝗅𝗅 2024.

[enderlovez]

Oooooo I have a Spencer x germaphobe reader where everyone knows how Spencer is with germs, which isn’t that bad. But imagine everyone’s surprise when they find out he has a huge crush like I mean in love with their coworker who is an extreme germaphobe (think of Ms, Pillsbury from glee) so she’s extra clean but he doesn���t mind he only has eyes on her so he tries to help her while also helping himself and she already has a crush on him but thinks he sees her as a patient in a lab even when he doesn’t but their feelings come to surface and they get a lil dirty lol angst, smut, and fluff thank u❤️

Germaphobe, Too

Spencer Reid x Female Germaphobe Reader WORD COUNT: 3600+ (yeah I got a little carried away)

Summary: You hate germs more than anything else in the world, and Spencer is so very much in love with you, so he's always trying to help you in any way he can — little does he know, that maybe you're feelings about the situation are a little bit different.

Content Warning: reader shows traits of obsessive compulsive disorder, germaphobia and germs, probably misinformation about germaphobia, NSFW content, reader is a freak, dry humping, reader bites Spencer a few times, miscommunication, Spencer likes boobs, groping, nipple play (sort of), unprotected vaginal sex (wrap it before you tap it), virginity loss on both ends, Spencer doesn't pull out, and I think that's it!

A/N I've never actually watched Glee so I went on a bit of a search-spree to try and find out how I would write this, so I hope I did it justice! Also, thank you so much for being the first person in my inbox, you have no idea how excited I was when this popped up, and I hope I did your idea justice!

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

From the moment you joined the Behavioral Analysis Unit, everyone knew you were different — from the way you open doors with your sleeves rather than your bare hands, to how you scrub your hands raw after touching something that's not even really that dirty.

And it's not necessarily a bad thing that you're so conscious of these things, it can just be a little... difficult to navigate sometimes.

Take that one time for example, when you were helping out on a case! Morgan had no writing utensils on him, so without thinking, plucked a pen from the breast pocket of your blouse. To anyone else, it might not have seemed like such a big deal, but you were close to tears.

To put it plainly, you are a germaphobe. You're like a female version of their very own Doctor Spencer Reid, but on steroids, and somehow still a whole lot more sociable despite this fact!

Seriously. It's not to say they don't still see you as the strange new girl doing 'strange-new-girl' things, nor is it to say they don't frequently talk about you when you're not around, but they think you might just be the sweetest human being to ever grace the BAU.

Which is why it really shouldn't have seemed like such a secret, shouldn't have shocked everyone as much as it did, that Spencer was absolutely and irreversibly smitten with you.

At first, it was just little things like watching you from across the room with this strange look on his face — he was just watching the strange new girl doing 'strange-new-girl' things!

When he started spending more time around you than anybody else at work, and when it became apparent that he preferred your quiet company, it was just because you showed some similar traits to him, right? Nobody thought anything different, because come on, this is Spencer we're talking about here.

But in truth, Spencer is beyond mesmerized by you, the most beautiful woman he's ever met, and so kind to everyone even though they clearly treat you different to your other coworkers.

The poor man doesn't think he could ever admit this to you, though, considering he's a blabbering mess of hot skin and stutters every time he talks to you. So instead of further embarrassing himself (and giving Morgan ammunition to tease him for the rest of eternity), he shows his affection towards you in other ways.

Spencer himself is not a big fan of germs, so he can understand, to an extent, how you must feel most of the time. You've explained it to him before, while he was standing beside you at your desk, watching as you wiped the surface down with an antibacterial wipe.

"I know it probably seems like I overreact, but it's not something I can just turn off," you'd said to him in a whisper once. "I don't do this because I want to annoy people or make life harder. It's just... if I don't, I feel like I'll unravel."

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Sometimes it feels like the world is too loud. A stranger is screaming in your ear, you can't see them or touch them, but they're there; there's a bee buzzing in front of your face, but you can't swat it away.

How are you supposed to get rid of something you can't see?

You can't — it's as simple as that, but you can try you're very best.

As if sensing that your thoughts are headed somewhere unsavory, Spencer appears beside you on a rolling chair, as he does most days.

Out of all your coworkers, he's the only one that doesn't poke fun at you behind your back. That's how it's been your whole life, people testing your boundaries and teasing you for something you have no control over, so it's... a nice change of pace.

"Good morning, Spencer," you say softly, offering him a warm smile before turning back to your work. "How are you today?"

"Good—um, good morning," he responds awkwardly, smiling even though you're not looking at him anymore. You see it out of the corner of your eye, his little smile and his firetruck-red face, smiling faintly to yourself as you type away on your laptop.

You ignore how he completely dismisses your question, knowing he'd probably just say the same thing as always — 'Yeah, I'm doing great, thank you. As—as long as you're doing alright.'

He always gets so strange around you, and while you try your best to ignore it most of the time, it still irks you.

No, he doesn't join the teasing with Morgan and Jareau when they think you can't hear them, but he still treats you differently.

"I got you something," he says in a quiet voice, reaching into his bag and pulling out a book. You eye him nervously as he carefully places it onto your desk, using one finger to push it towards you. A tiny smile pulls at your cheeks when you see it's encased in a protective plastic film, but it quickly drops when you see what the actual book is.

'Overcoming Obsessive Compulsive Disorder: A Journey to Recovery' by David Veale and Rob Willson.

You peel the plastic away, tossing it into the little trash can under your desk and sanitizing your hands before picking up the bright yellow book, opening the front cover with a blank expression.

It's not like you aren't grateful he's trying to help, of course you're happy he cares so much. But a book isn't going to fix your problems, despite what he may think at times. And right now he doesn't feel like a friend, he feels like a doctor, and you feel like a patient laying on a lab table, vulnerable and stripped bare for the world to see.

For once, you just want to have a normal conversation without it turning into some kind of therapy session.

"Thank you, Spencer — um..." You voice shakes ever-so-slightly as you put the eyesore book in your bag. "I will be reading that tonight, that was very kind of you."

You know you'll probably put that book in a box and never look at it again. He doesn't seem to pick up on your unease, smile widening at your apparent acceptance of his gift.

"Actually," you continue softly, in a voice so quiet it's almost silent, head bowed forward, "I'm actually not feeling too well right now, think I might head home for the day."

The smile on his face falters slightly as you push away from your desk and stand up, packing your things away into your backpack. "Is everything — would you like me to drive you home?"

It's not unusual for your mind to trick you into thinking you actually are sick, but on the off chance that you really are feeling something, he doesn't think it's a good idea for you to drive yourself home.

"You know, about twenty-one percent of fatal car crashes involve tired or impaired drivers."

"I'll be fine," you reply blandly, though those statistics do alarm you mildly, stepping around him and walking in the direction of Hotch's office. "Thank you, though, Spencer."

As you disappear into the Unit Chief's office, Morgan give him this curious look from across the room, eyebrow cocked in question, but all Spencer can do is shrug, his own face twisted with confusion.

Usually when you get like this, there's some kind of trigger that sets you off, like a chain reaction of sorts, but right now, he can't for the life of him come up with something that might've set you off.

You're only in the office for thirty-seven seconds (Spencer was counting) before you reemerge, your head still bowed as you rush out of the bullpen, like there's something chasing you away.

"What'd you do to get Miss Sunshine all blue and teary-eyed?" Morgan asks mockingly when you're out of earshot. "She looks like you just kicked a fluffy little kitten in front of her!"

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Spencer's never been to your apartment before — nobody on the team has, the only reason he's standing here now is because your address is on your information.

It feels a bit like an invasion of your privacy being here when he's not even supposed to know where you live, but Morgan was right. You did look like Spencer smushed a kitten under his shoe as you were leaving, and he couldn't in good conscience not check on you.

He reaches a tentative hand up, hesitating for a (very) brief moment before knocking thrice.

There's some muffled shuffling behind the door before it opens, revealing you, wearing a cream colored cardigan with delicately embroidered flowers on it. And while you're still neatly put together, there's a more casual air about you now, like you're more relaxed.

"Oh — Spencer, what're you doing here?"

Your voice rasps slightly, and when he takes a closer look at your face, Spencer finds that your eyes are a little red.

"I was just..." He pauses, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed upset when you were leaving work."

You purse your lips and give him as once-over, then shift out of the doorway — inviting him inside? You close the door behind him once he's inside, guiding him towards the living room with a gentle hand on his back.

It's shocking, to say the least, that you're actually touching him right now, but he doesn't say a word.

"Would you — um — like some tea, or something?" you ask awkwardly, pushing him to sit on the sofa. "Or — or some water?"

"No, but thank you for offering."

You leave the room for a few minutes, presumably to make yourself something to drink, but come back with two steaming mugs, placing one in front of Spencer regardless of what he said.

Another couple of minutes pass where neither of you say anything, sipping on tea and glancing at each other every now and again. He's pleasantly surprised to find that you've used lavender tea.

Your apartment is very clean, looking more like a set you'd find at a department store than anything, but it's still so warm and inviting. You have a couple of candles lit around the place, and Spencer's fighting the urge to warn you about candle safety.

"I don't want you to try and fix me."

Spencer turns his head away from the tall bookshelf across the room to look at you, eyebrows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Fix you. What do you mean, he's trying to fix you?

"The book," you reply meekly, "I don't want you to try and fix me."

That catches his attention, the emphasis on that one little word — it's not that you don't want anyone to help, you just don't want him to help.

You must see the flash of hurt cross his expression, because you're rushing to elaborate, stumbling over your words.

"It's just that — um — I really like you, Spencer, and — uh — when you're giving me stuff like this..." You gesture to the coffee table, where the yellow book he'd given you is sitting. "I don't know, you kind of make me feel like I'm a patient in a lab. Something to be studied and prodded at and — and fixed."

"There's nothing about you that needs to be fixed," he murmurs, trying his best to ignore what you said — 'I really like you, Spencer.'

You place your half-empty mug of tea onto the coffee table and pull your feet up onto the couch, wrapping your arms around them.

"I wasn't trying to fix you — everything about you is perfect," he says, quiet and without thinking. "You just seemed so uncomfortable at work all the time, and I wanted to help you out."

"Why, though?" you ask sadly, a faint heat rising to your cheeks. "Why not just join in on all the teasing and mockery? It would be easier than dealing with me all the time."

"Because..." You raise an eyebrow at his entire face quite literally turns the same shade as a tomato. "Because I really like you, too. I didn't think about how it might come off, and I'm so, so sorry for—"

You hold up a hand to shut him up, leaning a little further towards him than he would have thought you'd like.

"Spencer, it's alright," you assure him, placing your hand on his knee, much to his surprise (and embarrassment). "You didn't need to worry, though — you're really the only person at work I spend much time around, and I'm not uncomfortable around you."

"You're... not?"

A soft smile graces your lips. "Not even a little bit. Not even at all."

Spencer deflates into himself, every inch of his his skin uncomfortably hot — this is news to him.

"That's a relief."

Your voice takes on a teasing lilt. "Why? Because you really like me?"

And just like that, his face gets infinitely hotter, but he gives you the tiniest nod, knowing that if he said anything, he would fumble.

"I don't understand why you're embarrassed," you whisper fondly, "I am the one who said it first, after all. You should be teasing me."

He might be the only one you'll accept it from, just like how he's the only person you'd ever accept physical contact with, the only person you'll ever trust enough to put your mouth near him, like right now."

Spencer has to restrain himself from physically recoiling in shock when you press the softest of kisses to his blazing cheek.

Your instincts are screaming on the inside, but if you're being honest, you couldn't care less.

This isn't a stranger, you assure yourself, this is Spencer, and he could never make you sick.

Spencer could never make you sick.

"Is this alright?" you ask as you press another slightly firmer kiss to the skin under his jaw, your voice dripping with something unfamiliar.

Unable to form a single word, Spencer nods, reaching to place a hand on the back of your neck, gasping when your teeth nipped at the sensitive skin.

It's a complete one-eighty from the shy, germ-conscious girl you usually are, but he can't find it in him to complain.

The girl of his dreams, the one who can't even bring herself to touch his hand at work, currently has her mouth on him, she's biting him, and his mind is in a frenzy.

"I'm not gonna freak out if you touch me, Spence," you tease lightly, lips fluttering over the space just beside his mouth. As if to prove your point, smirking against his skin, you take his hand in yours and settle it on the space just below your breasts — under your clothes.

Where you're not wearing a bra.

His mind reels and melts into goo at the feel of your bare skin against his hand, so soft and warm.

An embarrassingly loud whine escapes his mouth as you bite down on his neck again, sucking the skin into your mouth. His hand drifts slightly upwards, brushing against the supple skin of your breast and gently grabbing onto it.

Your breath hitches as he gropes at your chest, lips pulling off his neck with a little pop and head resting against his shoulder.

"Can I take your shirt off?"

Your question leaves him speechless, but he nods nonetheless, reluctantly letting go of you to help you get his shirt over his head.

The sigh of his bare chest has your mouth watering, and you want nothing more than to leave a trail of hickeys down his stomach, but first, you press your lips to his, hands threading through his hair.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs into your mouth, hands resting on your hips as you grind down onto him. "Absolutely breathtaking."

You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, whimpering as your hips wildly buck down on him. You've never been like this, desperate for the touch of another person, let alone a touch so intimate.

Spencer's grip on you tightens some, and he uses this new leverage to guide your hips, carefully pressing you clothed heat against the hardness straining against his pants.

"P-please," you choke out, arms wrapping around his shoulders, gripping him for dear life as he moves you.

"Hm?" he hums quietly, shifting the angle so he's rubbing right up against your covered clit.

"Please," you breathe out again, clenching around nothing. "Please, Spencer."

You're not even sure what you're begging for, only that you want — no, need more of this stimulation.

He seems to understand what you need better than you do, gathering your body to him and laying you on your back.

Your thighs automatically fall open for him, allowing his body to fit between them, one hand holding himself up. He presses himself against you again, drawing a desperate moan from the back of your throat as he works on undoing the buttons of your cardigan, letting the fabric slide off your body and pool at your sides.

The hand he's not using to support himself reaches for you, thumb brushing against your hardened nipple. The corner of Spencer's mouth twitches upward as you arch up against him, eyes screwed shut.

"You like that?" he asks genuinely, doing it again. You nod frantically, mouth dropping open, but no sound coming out of it.

"Yes," you pant, bottom lip catching between your teeth. "Yes, I like that — please."

"Please what?" His mouth descends upon your neck, fingers continuing their attack on your sensitive nipple, clothed cock still rubbing up against you oh-so wonderfully.

"Please... please touch me," you beg, unable to stop your hips from bucking up against him. "I need you to touch me, Spencer."

Such vulgar words coming out of your mouth. It shocks the man, but he complies, shifting his body backwards so he can pull your skirt and underwear down your legs.

The sight between them is magical — your folds glistening in the soft light of the room, you writhing in anticipation in front of him — and something he has, admittedly, thought about once or twice.

"Have you ever done this before?" he asks, running his middle finger through your slick and pressing down gently on your clit. You shake your head lazily, face screwed up in pleasure, a sight Spencer will cherish forever.

A strangled moan rips out of you as Spencer presses a finger against your hole, thumb rubbing soft circles on your sensitive bud, and enters you with little resistance.

"Neither have I," he admits sheepishly, pumping his finger in and out of you rhythmically, curling it until he finds that spongey spot within you that has you crying out his name and spilling over his hand.

"Two virgin germaphobes," you mumble jokingly, trying to wiggle closer to him again. You fumble with his belt, somehow managing to pull it through the loops, and toss it on the ground carelessly.

He helps you to push his pants down, just enough for his cock to slip out.

"Two virgin germaphobes," he agrees quietly, adjusting your bodies so you're both in a more comfortable position, sliding his heavy tip through your slick folds. "Are you sure—"

"I'm sure, Spence," you abruptly cut him off, running your fingers through his hair, subconsciously pulling him towards you. "Please just — just fuck me."

Spencer doesn't need to be told twice, slowly pushing into you, gasping as your warm walls suck him in, gripping his cock like a vice. He holds his breath, trying not to immediately blow his load.

You're writhing, gasping, clawing at his back, whispering his name out into the air, and it only works to make him more hungry for you. But he stills one he's fully sheathed inside you, giving you time to adjust.

"Does it — uh — does it hurt at all?" he asks in a whisper, directly into your ear.

"N-no," you gasp back, the small pain slowly morphing into one of pleasure. "It doesn't hurt, you can — fuck — you can move, when you're ready."

He doesn't think he'll ever be ready, with how tightly you're gripping him, but he still finds himself pulling out until only his tip is nestled in you, and slowly pushing back in all the way. You hum shakily, trying to press yourself closer to him as he repeats the action, then again.

Already so sensitive from your first orgasm, you know you're not going to last long with his slow movements, thighs clenching around his. Pressure grows in your abdomen as he thrusts back in, slightly harder this time, grunting into your neck.

"God, I'm already so close," you choke out, head thrown back, sounds you didn't even know you could make raking out of you. Spencer can't get enough of them, leaning down and catching one of your nipples in his mouth, gently sucking on the sensitive nub.

Without warning, you're spasming around him, drool dribbling out of your open mouth as you come, body going slack against the couch.

"W-where do you want me to—"

"Inside," you mumble incoherently, biting your lip hard enough to leave marks, tears building on your waterline. "Please, Spence, I want you to come inside me."

Your words alone are enough to have him spilling inside you, thrusts sloppy and unrhythmic. Your hum in content, clinging to him like a koala as he gently pulls his softened cock from inside you, rubbing soft circles onto the skin over your breastbone. It's comfortably quiet.

And then...

"Hey," you whisper in a tired voice, "you wanna go on a date with me?"

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your hip. "I would love to," he whispers back fondly before standing up from the couch, "but first, we need to get you cleaned up and rested.