#refuses to even joke about me being his “pretty little boy toy” told me “no- id much rather you be my boyfriend ”

[stxrmxtsu]

i work at a store that sells sex toys so these are toys i think the matsus would use on you and themselves.

tag(s): nsfw, pervy matsu boys, gay thoughts (for the male readers), not rlly edited, THIS SUCKS.

note(s): some of these are vague but i’m also practicing on how i interpret them while also giving people like…the canon versions of them so this is all for practice, idk what compelled me to write this i’ve been at work all day

edit: this was supposed to be posted a LOOONNGG time ago. so now, its being posted on 11/18/23

osomatsu

on you: wand massagers, anal beads

wand massagers are his FAVORITE to use on you if or when he can’t really access your clit while he’s pounding you from behind, he’ll reach around you with a wand to get you to cum faster. if you’re his boyfriend, he defo uses it on both of your cocks.

anal beads come in close second, especially if you’re his boyfriend. for girlfriends, it doesn’t come as much unless you two are having a LOONNGG night. (like bdsm nights)

on himself: strokers, cock rings, anal plugs (sometimes)

when you introduced oso to strokers, he was in HEAVEN. he got addicted real fast when you gifted him one as a joke. (not a joke anymore now is it) like, you gave it to him and he was genuinely like “oh my god thanks. i love it. and i love you mwah mwah mwah” and now he has like…5 of them. all different kinds, even a butthole one so he can practice anal for when the real deal happens. also, no fucks on where he ‘hides’ them. (well…until he got yelled at by choromatsu).

(for the gays) you gifted the butthole one as an actual joke and he laughed at it but when you left…

lets just say he couldn’t stop using it while thinking of you. yeah. btw it happens constantly. whether you’re his boyfriend or not.

cock rings are his favorite only because you told him he can last longer with them. (and my guy loves fucking so…)

anal plugs or anything anal on him doesn’t really interest him unless you ask him if you can perform it on him but the times where he’s either submissive or you ask, he likes them. sometimes he feels pretty in the jeweled ones you have.

karamatsu

on you: vibrating cock rings (for male), vibrating bullets, wax candles

i think he likes taking it up the ass more so he makes you last longer by using the cock rings AND ones that vibrate because he just likes the feeling of it inside his asshole.

i think he likes playing around with you somewhat before the main event, i mean don’t get me wrong, kara is a tender and romantic lover but he likes making you feel good before and during sex. so sometimes he’ll use the bullet to press it against your clit while he eats you out or fingers you.

wax candles go for both you and him. while yes, i said he’s a romantic person, he won’t let the candles he lit for you around the bed go to waste. this is entirely if you are into it, he won’t bring it up ever again if he approached you about it and you refused.

on him: strap ons, cock sleeves, cock rings

strap ons are self explanatory, like i said, i think kara likes it up the ass more than anyone you’ve ever been with (he’s a bottom idc what you say). the way he approached you about it was kind of funny because he saw it in your little chest of sex toys and he was curious at first but then awkwardly mentioned it during a convo about spicing up your sex lives.

cock sleeves. whether you use it to finger him or enhance your own cock, karamatsu is all for it. he likes the ones with the ridges because he’s a slut and he NEEDS to feel all of you.

cock rings are mostly used on you, sure, but he also definitely uses them. if you’re a person that likes to go multiple rounds that is.

choromatsu(bator) (thank you dub oso for that nickname)

on you: any clitoral stimulators so roses, suction vibes, etc.

if i’m being honest to myself and you, choromatsu, even with guidance, lowkey kinda sucks at foreplay. so you and him kinda have to use anything that presses against you to get you fully ready.

on him: *rubs hands together* here we go.

vibrating anal plugs, vibrating panties, lube that looks like cum (thats actually a thing its called ‘fuck sauce’ and we sell it in my store), remote control vibes, cock sleeves

look me in the fucking eye and tell me that this man is not willing to let you do anything and everything to him. i dare you.

i won’t go into detail with each one cuz thats gonna take up my word count limit for each boy but FUCK does he like it messy and wet. sometimes he’ll even let you get a paddle on his ass 😏

ichimatsu

on you: oh. the obvious. any bdsm kit you find, wax candles, etc.

when you officially introduced and familiarized ichimatsu with toys and other stuff, he, like oso, got addicted. and was in heaven. of course at first he was really nervous because he’s been a virgin all his life, but with love and trust coming from you, his s/o, he’s become a FIEND. like you have no idea what you created but it sure as hell was a monster.

on him: same thing

while ichi has his dom moments, its safe to say he’s absolutely a SUCKER for receiving the same treatment as he gives you. his favorite HAS to be a paddle to the ass and hot wax dripping all over his body.

jyushimatsu

on you: flavored lube, rabbit vibes

you remember jyushi’s expression when you said there was such thing as flavored lube. his eyes lit up and then turned to the curious cat eyes. did it taste good? why was it a thing? how? he likes giving you oral with it, its his favorite activity so far in the bedroom (whether you have a cock or pussy)

jyushi is playful in bed just as he is in his everyday life so when you showed him your rabbit vibes, he laughed in joy and watched it shake with vibration or if you have the thrusters, he would giggle at how they moved up and down. it’s cute and funny at first but when you’re pent up, you grab him like “jyushi. if you don’t fuck me right now-“

and then you two actually fuck like rabbits. well…after he fucks you good with the vibe….

on him: anything!

i couldn’t really pick any toys that jyushi would like on himself but i’m pretty sure he would be down with anything and everything except the complicated and hardcore bdsm stuff.

he doesn’t want either of you to be hurt during sex because it’s supposed to be a feel good activity!

todomatsu

on you: vibrating panties, remote control bullets, suction vibrators, vibrating anal plugs

look me in the eye again, and tell me he won’t be a little shit with all four of those things. satan spawn when it comes to teasing you. he knows when you’re close too, he picked up on your cues pretty quickly and it always ends with him edging the hell outta you.

of course you get upsetti and frustrated, which he adores. (to an extent) and he just smirks at you and continues until you’re begging and a mess.

on him: strap ons, anal plugs and beads, lube that looks like cum (or just your cum in general if you’re a dude)

NEED I REMIND YOU OF MY PEGGING HCS AGAIN?

kidding, but fr.

totty doesn’t like anything too much but i think anal stuff is as far as he’ll go in regards to ‘hardcore’ sessions.

once in a while or when he’s just being a goddamn brat, he’ll push his hips back against yours with a shit eating smirk and make fake whiney noises to tease you. and when you snap and fuck him good, he’s buried face down into the pillows and sheets so fast and crying.

[wtfevenismypage]

Curiosity Killed The Cat

request: request. i’m not sure if you’re comfortable with writing it but it’s worth a try the team is always teasing spencer saying “he’s definitely a virgin” and he’s like “wtf no i’m not” one day they’re like ok well then y/n can see for herself, y/n is like “😳i didn’t sign up for this” and long story short they come back to the bau and the team is like “ ok soooo?” and y/n is like zoning out mumbling “you were wrong”

Warnings: SMUT (Penetration, oral (female recieving), spanking, over-stimulation, choking, degrading kink)

A/N: YO SHIT’S ABOUT TO GO DOWN, I am going to start publishing fics again, but updates will be very very slow. They’ll increase eventually, but for now, they are slow. Love you all!

The night began at work. A late night with the team at the office, stacks of files mounted on all of your desks and you’re all gathered around to keep each other awake.

“Ugh. This is too much work. Seriously. Can’t killers ever take a break?”

You whine, spinning in the swivel chair and holding a file in the air. Morgan chuckles, staring at his own file before speaking.

“I need a drink after this.”

“You and me both Morgs.”

“I told you to stop calling me that Girly.”

You chuckle, stopping your spinning and standing up to stretch. It feels nearly impossible to stay awake. Not necessarily because you’re tired, but you’ve been staring at similar files all day and it’s getting boring and tiring.

 “I’ll do refills on coffee. Gimme your mugs.”

You say, letting them pile different sizes of cups and mugs in your arms. You saunter over to the coffee machine and set them on the counter.

You set the pot for a lot of coffee and quickly dash to Hotch’s office, where him and Rossi are.

“Yo, I’m making coffee, y’all need refills?”

They shake their heads and you shrug, returning to the coffee machine and pouring the coffee in the mugs before adding cream and sugar.

“How much sugar tonight Reid?”

You ask, turning to the tall doctor with a smirk. Luckily, you and your team are the only people left in the bullpen so you can be as loud as you want.

“A lot.”

You snort, grabbing the box of sugar and piling it in, almost emptying it before putting it on the shelf and making a few trips to distribute the coffee.

“Here you are Spencer, sugar with some coffee on the side.”

You chuckle, sitting in your chair again and picking a new file up, only to find that this was the last file.

“Oh. Anyone else wanna give me files? I’m on my last one.”

Morgan and Emily immediately run up to you with files, dropping them on your desk and thanking you. It made you laugh, watching smiles grown on their faces.

“Okay team. We’re almost finished. Just a little bit more now.”

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(SEXUAL THEMES BEYOND THIS POINT)

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A few hours later you, Spencer, Rossi, and Hotch are finished with your stacks, waiting for the other three with Penelope, discussing bars to go to.

“Oooo there’s a new one downtown, we should go there.”

“Can you guys hold back your alcohol talk until tonight please? I just wanna get out of here fast and maybe get lucky tonight.”

Emily pleads, making you and the other women go “oooo” while the men groan.

“Oh boy you are right Em. I haven’t gotten laid in so long. Too long.”

You say, leaning back in your chair and looking at a flabbergasted Penelope.

“How long?”

She asks, staring at you in disbelief. You were a very beautiful woman (Don’t you fucking dare say otherwise) so people often assumed you had sex often. You weren’t private about it either. So what if people judged you? Sex is natural and anyone who says otherwise is selling something.

“Since my first time in middle school. I had a delusion that sex was gonna be this amazing thing and then it was actually terrible. I gave up all hope and never slept with anyone ever again. So you know, it is what it is.”

Everyone looked at you in shock, confused as to how you went your whole life without sex.

“Wait really?”

Morgan questions, his attention dropping from the files to you in an instant. Spencer simply stared at you in disbelief, his expression suddenly making you nervous.

“Y-yeah. I haven't had sex since middle school. It isn’t a big deal.”

You defend, but Penelope wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.

“Oh honey I’m definitely finding you someone to take home.”

“Hey, at least you had your first time, unlike pretty boy over here.”

Morgan teases, messing with Spencer’s hair. Spencer was often teased for being a virgin, but none of you knew what to believe. He said he wasn’t, but refused to tell even Morgan about any of his times.

“How many times do I have to tell you guys, I’m not a virgin!”

“Then tell us about one time.”

Morgan says, a wide smirk on his face at the disheveled state of the genius doctor. Poor Reid just wanted to be left alone but Morgan will not let this go.

“Morgan. Not all of us are public about our sex lives like you bud. Sometimes I wish you were as secretive as Reid. None of us want to hear about how you “got it on”.”

Morgan grimaces, and Spencer looks to you thankfully. 

“C’mon Y/N, you aren’t even a little curious?”

Emily asks from her desk, finally finishing up the last file with JJ. You shrug, playing with your hair briefly.

“Of course I’m super curious, but, unlike you lust goblins, I stand with Hotch and Rossi and don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

Various groans come from the team as you fist-bump Hotch and Rossi, laughing at their defeat.

-

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When Morgan finally finishes, you all head to the new bar downtown, smiling at the flashing lights of the dance floor and immediately going to a small table with the rest of the team.

“Oh hells yes! This place is already fun!”

Penelope squeals, waving a worker over to get food. Morgan sits next to you, Emily on your other side and Spencer is next to Morgan and Hotch. 

“Alright my baby’s we are partying until Y/N gets lucky!”

You chuckle at Penelope’s words, raising a glass of water to your lips and taking a big swig of it before looking around. The people in there were definitely attractive, but your mind never swayed from a certain genius.

You meant it when you said you were curious, your mind had always wandered to certain images when you went to sleep, constantly imagining what he would be like.

You’re mind was so easily destroyed by him. All of your thoughts contorted by him. To the point where you can’t imagine sleeping with any of these other people, but you’re scared to ruin your friendship with him by trying to sleep with him.

“Ah guys. I’m fine. I don’t want to sleep with someone I don’t know.”

Morgan groans, nudging your side and making you laugh.

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A few hours later, Spencer has abandoned ship and went to the bathroom, leaving you alone with the rest of the team as you eat some wings.

“Oh my god I know how to figure out if Reid’s a virgin or not!”

Penelope shouts, you look at her excited face, just smirking as she squeals.

“And what is your plan?”

“One of us hooks up with him!”

You all choke on your food and drinks, staring at her in shock.

“I’m sorry what? Did you just say-”

“Actually that’s not a bad idea.”

Hotch cuts you off. You turn to his smirking face in shock. Never in a million years would you have thought that Aaron Hotchner thought one of you sleeping with Reid is a good idea.

“Hotch! Wouldn’t that like, mess with work or something?”

He shrugs, turning to you and smirking.

“What can I say? I’m curious too.”

You sigh, chuckling a bit and shaking your head.

“I say Y/N does it.”

“What?”

“Yeah! Y/N is single and hasn’t gotten laid in a while, it’s perfect!”

“Guys no I-”

“Oh my god you’re right! Plus there’s plenty of sexual tension between the two of them.”

You sigh, knowing they won’t let up until this happens. When the team wants something, they make it happen.

“Okay guys, I didn’t sign up for this, I’m not your test dummy.”

You say, putting your wings down on the plate in front of you and looking around at them all.

“Please girly? Pretty please?”

Morgan begs, clutching your hand tightly and shaking it up and down like a child who wants a toy.

“Y/N, I will make sure you get a raise in your paycheck.”

You stop and think about it for a second.

It could ruin your relationship with him forever, then again, he’s the type to forgive and forget when it comes to his friends.

And if it did work out, then things could be awkward between the two of you for a long time, or worse, he’d regret it. And like all the things he regrets, he’d ignore you until you disappeared.

And the worst you can think of, you take his virginity. Not someone he loves, not his girlfriend or wife, you. His bestfriend and co-worker. 

But still, just that small percentage that everything might go completely right and you might even get a second time with him makes it feels like it might be worth it.

“Okay fine. But I don’t want a raise. If I’m doing this it’s because I want to.”

They all cheer and you just smile, taking a swig of beer before motioning for Morgan to switch seats with you so that when Spencer comes back he’ll be next to you.

Within a few minutes Spencer returns and you feel a heat travel up your neck as you look at him. He turned to you and smiled, sending shivers up your spine as you smiled back.

“Why’d you switch places?”

He asks, you turn to Morgan for help, pleading him to come up with a fake story.

“Emily kept poking her so she told me to switch.”

He says, you practically glare daggers at him, but you go with it, turning back to Spencer and nodding with a smile.

“Yep, so now, you are stuck with me.”

You joke, trying to ease the dusty pink on your cheeks, and nudge him gently in the arm.

In a few minutes you muster up the courage to let your hand travel off of the counter and onto Spencer’s thigh, feeling your entire face go crimson at the feeling of the hard muscle.

He choked on his water briefly before looking at you, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of your red face. You were trying to hide any emotion you felt out of embarrassment. 

He didn’t say anything though, you’re hand felt warm against the cool breeze of the bar, and he wasn’t opposed to your touch whatsoever.

Everyone continued talking and laughing as your hand inched upwards, and you could feel his body tense up every once in a while, and every time he did, you paused, giving him a moment to push your hand away or tell you to stop, but he didn’t. Not even when you began massaging and squeezing the muscle in your hands.

In fact, he at some point grabbed your hand and positioned it right above his own cock. You weren’t touching it yet, just hovering in slight fear.

He wants this.

You thought before slowly lowering your hand, your eyes widening at the feeling of his semi hard and fairly large cock. What the hell were you getting yourself into?

You glance at him quickly, only to find him staring straight back at you with lust lidded eyes. They were intimidating, almost scary. Usually you would have hated to be on the receiving end of this glare, but in this context, it made you feel like a match had been lit inside of you and you were just left there with a lit match inside of you.

The moment you squeezed your hands just slightly, he abruptly stood up, your hand falling from his crotch. Everyone looks at him in shock as he yanks you up.

“I need to talk to you.”

Is all he says before dragging you away. You only had a split second to turn and see the teams faces, but they were all pretty much the same. 

A shit eating smile with wiggling eyebrows.

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From the moment you were yanked into the private room with Spencer, you were super nervous. It had been years, you were inexperienced. What if he didn’t like it? What if he left because you were bad at it?

He seemed to notice your panicked state and sat you down on the bed, crouching in front of you and taking your hands in his.

“Hey, we don’t have to do this. As much as I would love to prove to you that I really am not a virgin, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. But if you say yes, I will pillage your body to the point that you can’t walk next week.”

Well shit, now you were fully convinced and super turned on. You had thought he was vanilla, or maybe even a bottom, but oh wow you were so wrong.

“Do it.”

Those were the only two words needed for Spencer Reid to pounce, and your plane of vision was knocked over, now laying on your back as he traps you under his body. 

His lips are everywhere. They’re on yours at first, but they travel to your jaw, your neck, and his lengthy fingers work at the buttons on your dress shirt rapidly. 

“Shit Spencer...”

You whine out as he works his hands across your body. They feel like fire against your skin. His lips are wet and messy, kissing and marking your neck for the world to see.

You grip his shirt, tugging at it and opening your mouth to speak, but a moan slips out instead. You shut your eyes in embarrassment as you feel his lips curl upwards on your collarbone, the suckling feeling feeling so warm and tingly.

“What is it baby? You want me to take my shirt off? huh?”

You nod eagerly, chest rising and falling quickly as he raises his body off of yours, and you open your heavy eyes to see him strip off his shirt. He isn’t muscly, but he’s perfect, he looks perfect.

“What do you want baby?”

You stumble over your words, your mind already fuzzy somehow by just his lips.

“You. I want you. Please Spencer I want you.”

 You beg, your hands travelling up his torso and feeling his soft skin. He leans down again, towering over you and smashing his lips on your while his hands work on getting your pants off.

His lips were safe, careful. Not aggressive, and his tongue that tasted the inside of your mouth was warm and loving, savoring your taste as you whined into his.

He was smiling so widely against your skin, his pride booming at the way you reacted to his touch. He never once thought he could get you to react like this.

“You just wanted to see if I was a virgin huh? You curious?”

You nod and shake your head, confused on why you were doing this as well. You wanted this so much it almost hurt, you’ve wanted this since day one. You were also really curious as well though.

“You know what they say.”

He leans into your ear, kissing your neck and biting your ear.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

You felt his fingers rub at your clothed pussy, your black cloth panties preventing him from fucking you with his fingers. His fingers rub against your clit, the cotton creating friction on it as well.

 “Please Spencer! Please please please!”

You beg, feeling his breath land on your cold skin in a way that felt so raw and rigid. He tugs at your panties, freeing your cunt as a finger rubs against your clit, the bundle of nerves jolting you up.

A loud moan escapes your lips as he continues circling your clit with his long fingers, His lips kissing your open ones.

Two fingers probe into you, scissoring themselves inside of you. You groan into his mouth as they curl upwards into your wet cunt.

“Shit!”

He moves his head between your thighs, licking a wet stripe up your clit, flicking it around as you moan at the sensitive feeling. It feels like electricity lighting up the sensitive nub.

A pressure builds between your legs, a spring coiling in your stomach as he suckles on your clit, fucking you fast with his fingers.

“Spencer! I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it.”

It hits you like a fiery clap of thunder, the feeling so extreme and hot it almost makes you scream and you can only hope no one heard you over the music outside.

Your breathing is labored as your high dies down, but Spencer doesn’t let up, he flips you over onto your stomach, dragging you to your knees by your hips. 

“Wha-”

You get cut off by your own moan of pain, the tip of his cock slowly being pressed into your tight and wet cunt.

“It’ll get better baby, I’ll go slow, I promise. Just tell me when you want me to go, and when you want me to stop. Okay?”

You nod against the pillow under your face, tears slipping out of the corners of your eyes. A hand lands on your ass, making you yelp at the rough feeling.

“Words baby.”

You moan, palming the sheets with your fists as he pulls out completely, leaving you to feel empty.

“Okay! Please Spencer! Please I need you!”

You could practically feel his pride rolling off of him as he pushes into your sex slowly, filling you up fully. 

It’s a stinging feeling, as if you were being torn apart. But he waits, he let’s you adjust to his girthy size before moving. He really was gentle. You hadn’t expected him to be rough exactly, but he was shockingly gentle and patient.

Eventually, you got used to the feeling, it felt so satisfying as well. The feeling of being so full and warm was so pleasuring, it sent little jolts of pleasure up your spine and out your mouth, making Spencer smirk.

“You’re so tight for me. You so curious you let me fuck you huh? So eager?”

You nod, burying your face into the pillows. You want him to move, to fuck you until you break, but words won’t come out, so you move your hips forwards, letting part of him slip out of you before moving him back into your dripping cunt.

A loud groan escapes both of your lips at the feeling, his hand lands on your ass again, reddening it before taking the hint and thrusting into you carefully.

“Oh... Holy crap!”

You moan out as he continues to clench your hips, surely leaving bruises tomorrow. His thrusts remained slow and deep, but it felt just right. He let his hands wander, travelling up and down your body.

His fingers find your bra, unclipping it and letting it fall off. Your breasts move to the rhythm of his thrusts.

“Faster... Please Spencer faster!”

“What’s that my little slut? You want more? You gonna be a greedy little slut?”

You could feel your cheeks become a dark crimson color, slightly embarrassed at the degrading language he was using, but you nod nonetheless, wanting him to pound into you shamelessly.

“Very well. What a dirty slut wants, she gets.”

His pace quickens suddenly, each thrust into you sharp and hitting into you just right. Loud moans escape both yours and Spencer’s lips, the room becoming sweaty and sticky quickly.

“This want you want you whore? You just want to be fucked like a cheap whore?”

Pointless babbles fall out of your mouth, quiet “Yes” and “I’m your cheap whore” being mumbled as he pounded into from behind. 

A gasp escapes your lips as he lands another smack to your ass, leaving a burning sensation that felt so damn pleasurable after the initial sting.

A familiar pressure builds up between your thighs again, Your legs trembling under the Thunderous feeling of your orgasm washing over your entire body.

You had thought that two orgasms would have been enough for him, but he doesn’t let up, even flipping you back over and thrusting into you harder. 

“S-Spencer!”

You gasp and squirm as his fingers find your sensitive and swollen clit, pinching and rubbing it with his thumb and index finger. It felt like a wave of nerves jolting every bone, your back arching off of the cushion underneath you.

He continues pounding into you mercilessly, admiring the way your tits bounce at his pace, the way you so desperately panted for mercy, but your body betrayed you.

If you really wanted him to get off of you, you would have made it much more clear, you would have been pushing him off more, but you were more just clutching him closer than anything, wriggling your body around.

You couldn’t form any words at this point, chasing after your third orgasm endlessly. You manage to spot the hand that isn’t abusing your clit snake its way up your body, playing and pinching your nipples briefly before wrapping itself around your neck. 

Soft squeezes are delivered to your throat, making you whimper and whine, your own hands reaching his wrist for support, feeling up the vein-y muscles.

“Spencer! Spencer I’m gonna... I’m gonna cum!”

You whimper out, his hand tightens around your throat and his fingers rub your clit faster and harder, abusing the already raw nerves. 

Everything felt so overwhelming. Your body was shaking aggressively each time he rubbed your swollen nub, and the feeling of him pounding into your wet cunt repeatedly slamming your sweet spot mercilessly and choking you out at the same time was so raw and powerful. 

It felt unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. And with a broken moan, you came all over his cock, clenching around him and pushing him over the edge as well. 

He came right inside of you, riding out his high while slowing the rubs delivered to your clit. Your insides were twitching like crazy around his sensitive cock, making him groan while watching your entire body shake.

Soon after you both came, he pulled out, letting his cum drip out of you and onto the bed, pulling your body to sit up.

“Well, did I pass your test?”

You lazily nod at his question. You panted heavily, trying to chase after your breath.

“Holy shit Spencer... That was... Wow.”

He chuckled, grabbing your clothes off of the floor and placing them next to you.

“Need help cleaning up?”

You shook your head, meeting his starstruck eyes for the first time since he choked you. They were so bright, so in awe. 

“Alright, well I’m gonna head home so I don’t have to face the others. See you at work?”

“See ya.”

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Twenty minutes later, Spencer had gone home and you had finished getting all of his cum out of you, and now you were fully dressed, making your way back to the others in a shell shocked state of mind.

Everyone else was trying their hardest not to laugh at the sight of your shaky legs when you stumbled into your chair, red hickies all over your neck. You sat with a blank stare in your eyes, chugging your water.

“So?”

Morgan asked, knowing the answer already but just wanting to hear it anyways.

“You were wrong.”

You managed to mumble out. Everyone broke out laughing, even Hotch and Rossi.

You continued to eat your wings, The memory of what just happened stuck on replay in your brain.

PERMANENT TAGLIST(OPEN) @pinkdiamond1016 @spencer-reids-snow-white @sheepfather @eusuntgroot @libradolan

[malfoysstilinski]

Hello love, I absolutely adore your writing. <3 Could you maybe do a tooth-rotting dracoxreader fluff. It can be anything, I just love soft draco sm haha. Tbh I feel like theres no such thing as too much soft draco asjdkhfask.

thank you so much!! hope this is okay :)) 

post shower | draco malfoy (fluff) 

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: you like picking out draco’s clothes for him and playing with his hair after he’s had a shower. and he’ll never admit it, but he likes it too.

warnings: extremely healthy relationship and soft!draco

word count: 1.9k

a/n: there’s a part where draco plays with your hair and i’m sorry if it’s not inclusive to yours (curly, afro-textured, braided etc.), i generally try to keep my imagines inclusive but this idea was just stuck in my head!! it’s quite brief but i thought i’d acknowledge that i realise some poc readers and others with curly hair just might not be able to relate and i’m really sorry about that!! :( but again, it doesn’t make up the whole imagine! <33

also not proof-read!! 

....

18.00. my dorm. prepare for cuddles.

my mother sent over some more of

those sweets you said you liked.

yours, draco

The ripped piece of parchment in your hand included an inked sketch beneath it; the image of a wrapped sweetie surrounded by some scribbled-out love hearts. Your heart skipped a beat at the message written in Draco’s usual rushed cursive, a small smile threatening to twitch at the corners of your lips. Glancing up towards the direction the charmed crane had come in, you sent the blond boy already watching you a small nod of confirmation.

A wink was your reward before he turned back to face Professor Snape at the front of the classroom. It made your heart flutter and your stomach fill with butterflies as you wondered how you’d ended up with a boyfriend as perfect as Draco Malfoy.

Not many would theorise that he was a secret romantic, but then again, not many truly knew Draco for who he actually was. You adored him - the way he looked, the way he smelled, how he loved you, his voice, his laugh, his jokes, and his sarcastic comments. If there was one person on the planet guaranteed to make you smile, it was the Malfoy heir.

You were thrilled to be invited back to his dorm, even if this was quite a regular occurrence that you probably should be more used to by now. The thought of spending the evening after a long day of lessons with Draco cuddled up on his bed eating sweets sent by his mother sounded like a dream come true. There was no other way you’d rather spend your time.

The rest of the day couldn’t have gone by slower, though. You finished your classes and then skipped dinner to shower, knowing you’d be stuffing your face later anyway. By the time you’d slipped on comfier clothes than your school uniform and had dried your hair, it was nearly time for you to head to Draco’s dormitory. He was lucky enough to have his own one as a prefect, with a huge bed and silk green sheets that felt amazing against your skin.

You did some last minute homework for your Herbology class in the morning, though your mind seemed to constantly drag back to your boyfriend. He was like some sort of drug and you clearly had an addiction.

Perhaps the best part was that the love she had for Draco was mirrored back onto her by the boy; their love was a redamancy to be jealous of. Students and teachers alike could see the adoration in their eyes when they looked at each other. They saw the grin on your face and the slight blush on Draco’s cheeks and knew that if what you two had wasn’t love, then love didn’t exist at all.

You had your ups and downs, of course you did. No relationship was ever always perfect. However, it was the way you were constantly able to bounce back and be stronger than before that kept the fire burning between the two of you. It was the way that Draco had worked on his communication, knowing it was the only way he’d be able to keep you, and how you’d worked on being more patient with him that meant the two of you could fall so indescribably in love.

So when you turned up to Draco’s dormitory at exactly 6 pm sharp, you opened the door without knocking, more than certain he wouldn’t mind. He never did. However, Draco was nowhere to be seen in his room. You thought maybe you’d managed to read the note wrong until you heard the running water coming from his bathroom.

You smiled to yourself as you headed towards his bed, dropping on top of the silky sheets you loved so much, your fingers tracing on top of it. Your ears strained to listen out for Draco, a deep hum filling your ears that you knew belonged to him. He had a good singing voice, but he refused to believe it whenever you told him.

You closed your eyes and listened as he hummed in the shower, his voice echoing off the walls in a way that had you wishing you could not only listen but watch him sing it. You weren’t sure when Draco stopped humming or when the water shut off, but the next thing you knew, the bathroom door was opening, steam rolling out as well as the scent of his green apple shampoo.

“Ah, darling,” Draco greeted upon seeing you lying on his bed.

You sat up, beaming at him. A white towel hung around his hips, his platinum hair wet on his head and dripping down his broad shoulders onto his platinum skin. You thought he looked beautiful like this, like some sort of God you’d like to worship. Especially with the smile that he wore upon his face, one that was reserved for you and you only.

“Hi, my love,” you said back, watching as he began to hunt through his drawers for something to wear. “You said six.”

“I must have lost track of time,” Draco admitted, “Cold days are meant for hot showers, you know.”

“No, cold days are meant for cuddles with your girlfriend,” you protested, but nevertheless scooted off the bed to join him by his dresser. “What are you gonna wear?”

“Y’wanna dress me up again, don’t you?” Draco acted as if he was annoyed, but a smile was threatening to tug at his lips.

“It’ll be cosy, ‘promise,” you replied, your hands moving through his dresser, hunting for the pair of black jogging bottoms that you liked on him. “Top or no?”

“No,” Draco replied as he stood in front of his mirror, towel drying his hair.

You found a pair of socks for him too, knowing how he hated if his feet got cold. As Draco cast a charm to dry his blond locks, you settled everything on the end of his bed for him and then began hunting through his drawers once more. You found one of his black tees and pulled your own off, shrugging his on instead.

Arms wrapped around your waist as soon as it went over your head and you shrieked as you were hauled onto his bed. You laughed as Draco suddenly crawled between your legs so he was straddling you a little, his fingers toying with the hem of his shirt.

“Did I say you could wear that, pretty girl?” Draco fauxed a glare.

“Please,” you pouted at him. “It’s comfy and smells so good. Like you.”

Draco rolled his eyes in amusement, smiling again as he kissed your forehead. “You’re lucky you’re so gorgeous. Can’t say no when you pull that face, can I?”

You beamed, feeling your cheeks heat up a little bit. You realised Draco had already pulled the joggers and socks on, his top half naked as he moved to grab his comb off of the dresser.

“Let me do it for you,” you said, holding your hand out.

Draco shot you a look. “Not a doll for you to dress up, you know.”

“‘Just wanna comb your hair for you,” you huffed, sitting on the edge of his bed, your legs dangling over the mattress.

Draco moved to stand in between them, your face level with his body as he began to brush the comb through the back of your own hair. Smiling, you leaned your head against his stomach, wrapping your arms around his middle and enjoying the sensations and tingles that Draco brushing your hair spread through your body.

Your eyes closed and you swore you could fall asleep like it - one of his large palms on your back, his comb brushing through your hair, the warmth of his toned stomach against your cheek and the smell of his aftershave and body wash fresh in your senses.

“You washed your hair, didn’t you?” Draco hummed, his hand moving off your back as he ditched the comb, his fingers playing with it.

“Yeah, had a shower before I came here,” you murmured, not peeling your eyes open, just relishing in the feeling of complete relaxation with your favourite person in the entire world.

“I can tell,” Draco murmured, his fingers gliding effortlessly through your newly-combed hair. “Your hair is really soft after washing it.”

“Good,” you replied, smiling a little against him. “That’s kind of the point of washing your hair, you know.”

“No, it’s to keep it clean,” Draco protested.

“It’s for both,” you compromised, knowing how stubborn he could get quickly. “Now can I comb your hair.”

About a minute later, Draco’s room was playing music quietly and he was slouched between your legs on the bed, the bag of sweets his mother had bought you both on his lap. Your back rested against the headboard behind you, your hands brushing through his silky platinum locks. You put the comb down, beginning to part his hair into tiny sections.

“Sweet?” Draco offered, his mouth full as he lifted his arm behind himself.

He felt you lean forwards and capture the sweet between your teeth from where your hands were occupied in his hair, making him chuckle. Draco knew you were making small plaits with the longer sections of his hair, but he closed his eyes and pretended he had no idea. To be honest, he cherished the feeling of you being so close to him, of your hands in his hair, your nails scratching gently on his scalp every now and then.

“Feels good?” You hummed, glancing down at him and seeing that his silver eyes had shut.

They flickered back open at your question, smiling when he saw you looking down at him. “A bit,” he admitted, which was an under exaggeration. He loved it.

“‘Nother sweetie, please,” you called as you moved onto your third tiny plait.

Draco’s hand came back over and fed the sweet straight into your mouth. You giggled as you carried on plaiting, humming lightly to yourself. A tug a little harder than the rest caused Draco to dramatically cry out.

“Ow!” Draco hissed, “Watch what you’re doing, woman!”

“Shh, I’m just braiding your hair,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “And if you call me woman like that one more time I will shove this comb so far up your arse-”

“Okay, okay,” Draco winced at the imagery. “By woman I meant ‘my lovely, beautiful, sweet, kind, intelligent girlfriend who I love with my whole heart’.”

“You’re such a kiss arse, Malfoy,” you replied, running your hand over the small plaits you’d created. “They look cute. You should grow your hair out like your father so I can do really good ones-”

“Y/N!” Draco grimaced, “If I ever grow my hair out as long as my fathers, feel free to cut it off for me in the middle of the night.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead as you cradled his head in your lap, your nails lightly scratching his skin. “Okay, okay. I like you with this haircut anyway. And I like the lack of gel in it. Looks so fluffy and cute.”

“Not what I’m going for, but thanks, darling,” Draco remarked, grabbing another sweet for himself. “You’re comfy, by the way.”

You simply hummed back as you began to undo the plaits, knowing Draco would be annoyed if you forgot and he had little curly bits in the morning. You grazed your fingers back through, watching his eyes flicker back.

“I love you,” Draco murmured sincerely. “So much.”

Your heart swelled. “I love you too, Draco.”

taglist: @lolooo22 @yyoflam @fjorelaant @cpetrova @bby-gxrnet @draysslytherclaw @dawnmalfoy @miarivic @hpotter3390 @justfangirlthingies @fleurwands @hufflepuffsophie @riddleswh0r3crux @dracosathenaeum @weaselbrownie @Dracoscumwh0re @miraclesoflove @wh0re4blaise @ilovemoviekidd826 @drarrysimp @secret-obsessions @writeandtranslate @aetheralist @wholebigboxofyikes @honeyloverogers @icecubewhat @edithreads @abbott27 @Sweetvnlla @skaratjung @dlmmdl @sw33tgirl @ayaosk @acosmis-t @astoria-malfcy 

[youryanderedaddy]

Hello, do you accept order? If yes, you could make a single one shot of Yandere! Brat Spoiled, please...

What would it be like if Yandere were the son of wealthy parents who always have everything they want, when they don't always get what they like, always act like a spoiled brat (and also his parents are afraid of their son, as they have already seen what he is capable of when he gets angry)... that's where the reader comes in. She is a new student at school, a nice and kind person, so the yandere knows her and falls in love so strongly that she never felt that way in life, but the reader is always rejecting her advances for being a spoiled brat and the way he treats the people around you.

What happens next?

Title: Eat the poor

Tw: non - consensual touching, obsessive/possessive behavior, violence, low-key bullying, blackmail / coercion, reader is in university

Part 2

It had started during your very first year of college, back when you still felt motivated to go to school and meet new people. You had heard the rumors about him before ever meeting his gaze and oh, did they disappoint.

You met Gabrielle for the first time when the snowdrops bloomed and the birds returned home – in the early autumn, at night, in a small crowded room reeking of alcohol, sweat and cheap cologne which you quickly realized wasn’t his. The man smelt like the cigarettes he never got bored of and sweet caramel. He was wearing a big leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans, yet the simplicity of the outfit seemed to suit the expensive brands displayed on the clothing. In a way the student represented the typical youthful boyish beauty with his golden locks, eyes the color of the sky and frame tall and well – built. Yet his face remained motionless the whole night and his body stayed still despite the mass of bodies dancing around in rhythm. But then some poor unfortunate fool managed to bump into the male, spilling his drink all over him, and his pretty face quickly twisted into a mask of disgust and anger.

“You stupid piece of shit!” The male yelled shortly after as his fist connected with the stuttering boy’s stomach. His clear eyes were now two wild thunderstorms pouring rain and lightning over the tipsy guy who was nervously apologizing and promising to pay for the damages done. “Do you know how much this costs?” Gabrielle spat with venom and pushed the other onto the floor, bringing his black sneakers to that white shirt until there was a mark of dirt formed on the otherwise clean fabric. Everyone else in the room had stopped drinking now and all the eyes were pinned onto the two men yet no one had the courage to do anything. Your own heart was beating hard in your chest at the sudden display of unnecessary violence but you had always been a calm kid, a kind soul too scared of its own shadow to learn how to fight properly. So you had no idea what to do.

“My father can have you expelled, you know.” The blond man suddenly spoke out in a quiet eerie voice as he pressed his foot harder into the shorter boy’s stomach causing him to whimper and squirm. “Unless you are willing to beg for my forgiveness, that is.” The bully proposed with a sly smirk on his pink lips as he glared at the victim underneath. The student on the ground was clenching his eyes tight so no one could see the tears in them when he shook his head no. You finally decided you couldn’t let this inhumane scene go any further.

“Stop this madness right now!” You shouted manically, drawing all the attention to yourself as you made your way between the two men. Gabrielle immediately pinned his burning gaze on you in unhidden intrigue. “This is too cruel. He didn’t mean to bump into you. Please, leave him alone.” As much as you had wanted to curse at the spoiled rich boy there was this suffocating feeling in your lungs telling you to be careful and play the mediator. The others quickly started gasping and some were already gossiping at your reaction proving your point that the guy was indeed dangerous.

Then he looked you straight in the eyes with his deep blue ones. He chuckled softly before smacking his lips in an unpleasant way, his “tsk” sending shivers down your spine. You had fucked up. “Well, well, well… Looks like the new girl wants to play hero. How cliché.” The bully grinned as he let his gaze roam up and down your body, your cheeks turning red in return when having realized he was handsome even while doing something so vulgar. “But if you do want to help him so badly…” The golden – haired man paused for a moment pretending to be deep in thought. “Maybe we could have a little deal, bunny.” He moved his leg away from the sobbing boy and stepped in front of you. From this close you could feel the warmth of his skin and the sweet aroma of burnt sugar it radiated. Gabrielle tilted your chin up almost gently and whispered in your ear “Kiss me.”

You tried to break free from the uncomfortable pose but the student simply squeezed your jaw line harder, his eyes cold and calculating, following your every move. You mind went blank and foggy at the forced intimacy and you couldn’t think straight with his breath on your neck. It felt like the time had slowed down just so the sadistic snob could mess with you a little longer. You opened your mouth to voice your protests but fortunately you didn’t have to say anything because at the very same time the host of the party appeared, ready to stop the fight.

“Gabrielle, I’d have to ask you to leave.” The dark – haired junior growled enraged as he pushed the taller male away from you. You couldn’t help but smile at him in appreciation. He was the only one brave enough to help you after all. “You are ruining the party for everyone. ” The stranger continued. The blonde seemed irritated at the sudden interruptance yet it was obvious he was powerless against the owner of the house. Still he grit his teeth and signed in annoyance as he turned to face the host. “Fuck you, Jackson!” The man cursed but eventually moved towards the door, red with anger. “My father will hear about this.” He looked at you as he reached for the golden doorknob, his features softened. “See you around, bunny.”

This was the first time you met Gabrielle. You already wished it was the last.

-------------------------------------------------------

After the incident the snob seemed interested in you, blatantly so. He would eye you up in the halls like you were a shiny new toy in a claw machine and try to strike a conversation no matter how much you ignored him. The man never once apologized for what happened at the party but at least he didn’t bring it up so you counted it as a small victory. You gradually understood just how much power and money the heir had. His father owned casinos, hotels, banks and apparently even the university you two were studying in received major monthly donations by the big businessman. This explained why everyone was so scared of the blonde, especially when he did nothing but flaunt his status at the slightest inconvenience. And now he wanted you.

In your eyes the boy was just an annoying brat who lived off daddy’s hard work, there really wasn’t much to him that intrigued you. The male was handsome, pretty even, but his grades were terrible and his interests were bland and shallow, mostly involving expensive brands and grand parties. But the worst thing about him was his personality. The snob treated his friends like servants and his enemies like dirt, but you he rather saw as a challenge. Gabrielle would ask you out every time you were unlucky enough to run into him. The first time the man gave you so many roses you couldn’t even count them, the second he demanded your affection with a silver necklace in hand ready to cover your neck in his mark of ownerships. You couldn’t recall all the other gifts the blonde used to try and court you with but you remembered refusing each and every one.

“Why can’t you just give me a chance?” He exclaimed one day after you had just returned the expensive bracelet you had found in your locker. It was a dark winter night and the heir seemed irritated with you for the first time, his eyes a deep electric blue just like the sky. The man had you cornered against the wall but you were used to his pathetic attempts at intimidation. Yet today there was something different in the air around him, some small voice at the back of your head wondered whether this time he wasn’t just joking around. “Are you still angry about that little wimp I expelled, bunny?” Gabrielle asked contemptuously yet his pupils remained cold and distant. Once again he was too close for your liking, too close for you to function properly, but that was probably exactly what he wanted. You to be compliant and obedient like all the others who crawled and kneeled at the very sight of him. “Or are you sulking because I beat up Jones after he asked you out, hmm?” What? The blonde man was the one who gave Tony the black eye? But he had told you it was just a street fight… Why had your friend covered for the bully you both hated?

“Why would you do that to him?” You whispered, staring at the twisted boy in front of you. Your heart was beating fast and your blood was boiling hot in your veins but you couldn’t let him win by showing him how much his actions affected you. Gabrielle reached out and cupped your cheek gently before smirking mischievously. “He was trying to take something that belonged to me.” The heir said casually as if he was talking about the weather. His fingers were cold against your warm skin and you fought the urge to vomit right then and there. “I am not yours.” You spat out with poison and pushed his hand away from your face. Next thing you know his knee was separating your thighs, lifting your short black skirt up, his breath lingering on your neck. “S-stop.” You stuttered and tried to squirm out of his hold but the man easily caught your wrists and brought them above your head, pinning you further into the wall. He was stronger than he looked and you felt so small and helpless in that moment you could have cried if your stubbornness hadn’t prevailed.

“What don’t you like about me?” The blonde suddenly spoke out, his voice unnaturally broken and needy, bordering on a whine, crying out in desperation. You weren’t sure whether he was trying to manipulate you now or if he actually wanted you to answer so you decided to be honest anyways. “I hate the way you treat other people. I could never love someone as cruel as you.” You inhaled deeply, ready to voice all the painful thoughts you had kept inside since the beginning of the semester. “You are spoilt rotten. Metaphorically and literally.” The man was breathing sharply like a wounded animal after hearing your words and as much as you wanted to sympathize with him, you couldn’t bring yourself to after everything he had done to you and your friends. He was irredeemable. “Let me go.” You finally demanded, hoping to use him weakened emotional state to your advantage.

Instead Gabrielle clenched his teeth and squeezed down harder on your already bruised wrists causing you to whimper in dull pain. His eyes were wet but the tears had finally stopped just like his willingness to show you his vulnerable side. The man had tried being nice and sweet to you, patient, then mean and patronizing, and neither worked. So obviously it was time to become the terrifying bratty monster everyone was so keen on believed he was.

“Have you noticed how many people seem to go missing after talking to you just once?” The heir whispered in your ear as his free hand traveled down to your waist, drawing you into his hard chest. You groaned at the sudden realization that the snob was actually right, less and less guys seemed to show up to your shared lectures in the last few months, but you had always assumed they just needed a break from school. University was stressful after all. “Did you…” You started off but couldn’t find the right words. Did you force your father to expel them? Did you harm them? Maybe a part of you didn’t want to know the answer. “I did.” Gabrielle responded before you could even finish the sentence. The sly smirk you knew way too well adorned his lips and it wasn’t hard to see he had already won. “And I will keep doing it until you agree to be mine and mine alone.” The man stated confidently as he sucked the sensitive skin of your neck until you arched your back in shock, your eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “N-nhgg.” You whimpered as you felt his teeth dig into your warm flesh leaving a scarlet mark for all to see. “Come on, baby, we both know you are too good to let them suffer because of your own selfishness.” He taunted you as he left a line of small wet kisses along your exposed collarbone. You wanted to argue, to yell at him how you weren’t the crazy, selfish one, but deep down you knew it was pointless. Gabrielle had power and you had nothing to bargain with. He could have anyone yet he wanted to torment you. “Give into me. I promise I can make you happy if you let me.” The blonde uttered softly as his lips brushed against yours, almost touching them, following your reaction with his clear eyes. Your own were puffy and red from the tears but he didn’t seem to care much about your misery and discomfort. The man wished to own, not to please, but you couldn’t do anything. And of course you wouldn’t let him ruin the lives of the innocent. Of course your stupid heart was too good and human for your own good. So you closed your eyes and slowly connected your lips with him even though they tasted almost metallic, like blood and defeat.

“I knew you would come around, bunny.”

[reidswritings]

times they were just too cute

word count; 1.5k

warnings; nothing i think... nothing but horribly written fluff

authors note; i am the WORST at writing fluff. so i hope this is as good as i think it is. this will be a series,,, and right now i have five for sure planned but depending on how well it does, i might do some more!! so i hope y'all enjoy!!

one; spencer reid gives a very sleepy Y/N a piggyback ride through a farmers market. 

Spencer’s warm hand held a slightly cooler, smaller one, as he and his girl walked through the outdoor market. They marveled at each and every tent, smiled at all the fruit and vegetables that they passed. They passed the small, little rooms filled with different knickknacks and toys. It was nearing the holidays— Halloween, both Spencer and Y/N’s favorite. She, all day, picked up numerous seasoned figurines and handed them over to her Sweet Boy and he would laugh and kiss her head before placing it back down where she found it, swearing up and down that they had enough little things in their house (and that was true, the small nicknacks littered the small apartment. so much so, that it was borderline obsessive). 

His Pretty Girl had suggested that they go and pick up some pumpkins to carve later in the week and squash to cook for dinner that night as well as fruits to snack on, while they watched the list of movies they had created to get them in the Halloween spirit. Spencer, being the homebody he is (but if we’re being honest, he wanted to stay home because he just wanted to have his girl all to himself. well, that and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to spend his day with a bunch of random germy people), was on the fence about spending the day with hundreds of other people in a small area— but his girl got the better of him and he ultmetely agreed. Like she had told him, they barely ever got a day off, they should spend it together— not one person out running errands while the other slept the day away.

They had been walking—shopping— for hours, both Spencer and Y/N’s arms filled with too many bags of good food and cute nicknacks, and carve-worthy pumpkins. The Pretty Girl was hoping to carve the pumpkins the following weekend— that is, if there wasn’t another case that desperately needed their attention— don’t mistake it, Y/N (and Spencer) loved their job more than anything (expect, maybe, each other) but sometimes they craved the break from the constant string of dead bodies with the cold eyes. And if there weren’t, she could already imagine her and her Lovely Boy carving silly faces into the orange melon and sipping on flavored coffee and stealing quick kisses— even in her fantasies, it was perfect. 

They were both exhausted— Y/N more than her Genius Boy, of course. The tired girl was moping next to him, feet dragging beneath her. Her bags were falling to the bottom part of her arms, only inches away from the dirt covered ground. 

“Spencer,” she whined, dragging out his name. Spencer laughed to himself shaking his head, feigning annoyance. He knew this would happen. He knew that she would be too tired to continue on and that he would end up carrying all of the things— not that he minded, he loved the time spent with his favorite girl. No matter the cost, he’d move mountains just to be near her.

“No, no. No, you can carry your own bags— I have enough.” He joked; he knew that sooner rather than later, he’d be holding all the bags. And that was true, he was carrying most of their bags. Y/N had tried to carry more but Spencer was too much of a stubborn gentleman and refused to let her carry more than three. Not that she hadn’t tried, because she had, Spencer was just too stubborn��� a trait he more likely than not learned from their good friend, Derek. She knew that he had given the innocent boy some tips when they were first going out. Much to Y/N’s surprise, too; she was glad he had done this, she was sure that with out the help, Spencer would’ve been a much different boyfriend— not that it would’ve been bad. It would’ve just taken him longer to let loose, to really be in the moment with her. Though, regardless, she would’ve loved him the same. 

“Spence, I’m sleepy.” Y/N straitened her posture, and shifted the bags to a more comfortable spot. She giggled, tugging on his arm, nudging it with her head before kissing his bicep. She then looked up at him and his heart swelled. He was caving; it was easy, though, when Y/N L/L/N was the person who held his heart in her hands. 

It was a Saturday afternoon— Hotch had given the whole team the weekend off, following a harder case (one involving the small humans— no one’s favorites).

The days were beginning to get cooler and the trees were starting to change color. And it made them happy to see that the world could still be beautiful despite all the darkness they would see in their day to day life. 

The boy laughed again, conceding. “Alright, hand ‘em over. Give me your bags, sweetheart.” 

It warmed her heart— the nickname that Spencer so easily called her. Spencer was not one for pet names or PDA or anything of the sort— but sometimes the love he had for the Pretty Girl got the better of him and he just couldn’t keep his hands off her. 

The sleepy girl perked up, smile wider than normal, warming the boy’s heart for the millionth time that day. She jumped up and down a few times and yipped excitedly (the Genius Boy’s mind compared her reaction to his young godson) and handed him the few bags she had wrapped around her wrists before he could change his mind. 

“Thank you, Pretty Boy!!” she smiled at the boy, who was now blushing and ducking his head, as if to hide the pink on his cheeks. The two had been together for over five years and he still was easily embarrassed and that warmed the young girl’s heart— just knowing that after all these years she still had that affect on the skinny man. 

They walked the long way back to their car, hand in hand, in silence for a few minutes before the tired girl once again groaned— pulling a loud, obnoxious laugh from the genius beside her. 

“What now?” Though the question seemed harsh, Y/N knew that there was no real fire behind the words. She let a laugh pass her lips too, body heavy, “I’m still tired, Spence.” 

As if to prove her point, she stopped, pulling her hand away from her boyfriend’s only to throw her arms out in a very obnoxious manner (another comparison to the young boy he saw so often). She yawned in the loudest possible way she could, her eyes scrunched shut, before she peaked one opened to watch his reaction, arms over her head, stretching.  

The boy had stopped too, bags falling to the ground with a inaudible thud. The Genius giggled and Y/N let her arms drop and she smiled. She loved it when he laughed like that. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it made her swoon for the innocent boy all over again. 

His mouth morphed into a smirk, he knew what she wanted, but he still asked, “What do you need from me?”

She grinned even wider, eyes wilder than any four-year-old being handed candy. “Carry me?” 

He would’ve said no, he would’ve joked and said she had her own two legs to walk on and that he was tired too and that she should carry him, but then he saw the look she was giving him.

She was giving him the look that she knew made him weak in the knees. The look that got her anything she wanted. The look that everyone knew was his soft spot. 

She gave him the look that caused his heart to swell more than it had ever had. 

And so, with his heart three times bigger than normal, he laughed and lowered himself enough that she would be able to jump onto his tall frame. “Get on, but you’re carrying the bags then!”

Ecstatic, Y/N gathered all the bags and jumped onto his back. The boy under her gripped her thighs, refusing to let her fall— no matter how tired he was, he would carry her until he couldn’t anymore. 

And maybe a few miles after that, too. 

Her arms, totes up to her elbows, wrapped—lightly, as to not choke the poor boy—around his neck and she giggled as he began to walk again. 

The boy smiled too and he said, “You know. . .you’re lucky I love you.”

“I know.” She ducked her head into the crook of his neck, bouncing with each and every step he took. She left a few, soft, kisses there, goosebumps raising in response. She felt the boy shiver beneath her. “And, I love you too, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Another giggle and another kiss to his neck and then his cheek.

[constantlyunlightening]

1000000 Times

Kinktober Day 6: Overstimulaion w/ Mirio Togata

Other kinks/Trigger warnings: praise kink, minor breeding kink

I say overstimulation but it was less of a focus than I would have liked. That being said, Mirio is a good boy and this fic is fluffy as hellllllllll. I actually ended up having a lot of fun with it, once I got in my groove.

Go and get your back blown out, bby

Disclaimers: Read/interact only if you’re 18+. Characters are all 20+

For clarification, you had been joking.

Dating Mirio meant an endless stream of joking and teasing and laughing. The man had always been an outstanding source of positivity for you and you wanted to be one back to him. He found strength in humor and you wanted to be another form of strength for him. It was perfect that way. You loved the dumb jokes and the silly chats you two had. You loved the way his smile lit up his entire face when you cracked a dumb pun. He loved your little giggles that turned into big belly laughs when he started cracking them back.

You two had a relationship that was, in part, built on humor.

So, when you had teasingly sent him a naughty message today, it was a joke.

“Maybe you should live up to your name and make me cum a million times 👀���

You thought his reply was a joke.

“Hah! Sounds like a challenge and I’m up for it!”

You had also thought he had been joking when he had brought home a wheelchair that very day and told you it was because you were going to have a real hard time walking tomorrow. An elaborate joke, but a joke nonetheless.

Now you weren’t so sure how much of a joke it actually was.

“That’s three!” In the wake of your third orgasm, your eyes managed to flutter down to the tuft of blonde that was between your legs and you soon met Mirio’s twinkling gaze as he smiled at you, lips left wet with your essence. “You’re handling those really well, princess! You sound so sweet when you moan out for me that I can’t really help myself.” His voice was as cheery and light as ever. It was almost hard to believe that such a sweet tone was coming from the same man who had been going down on you like a man starved and yet….

“Miri-” you almost whined out. Three orgasms on his tongue alone was leaving you a bit weak. Didn’t help the way he melted you with his words after each of them - telling you how cute you were shaking underneath him. “Y-you don’t actually have to count them.”

“That’s a good one! Impressive that your cracking jokes after you went all tremble-y on me like that. Just another thing for me to adore about you, huh?” He readjusted his grip on you. He was lying prone between your legs, both his arms having snaked underneath your thighs to prop them up and leave you open for him. However, one of his hands went from completely coiling around your thighs, to now moving to press down on your stomach, pinning your lower abdomen to the bed. Your last orgasm had left you back rounded off the bed and this was probably a measure to counter that. Easier to get you off when you were anchored in place. “If I don’t keep track, how am I going to know how many more I have to go, silly. I mean, you can try counting if you want but-” he trailed off and you could see that mischievous gleam in his eyes as he licked the taste of you off his lips, “-I’m not sure you’ll be able to keep up no matter how smart you are.”

His head dove back down, seeing the way your body finally started to melt a bit - muscles unwinding just so he could wind them right back up again. His tongue was circling at your velvety entrance and a warm breath fanned over you with his low chuckle. “You’re still quivering, princess. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to get enough of you when your body is this irresistible.” His tongue dove into you and the one arm that was still wrapped around your leg tugged. Your body dragged against the bed until his face was pressed right up against your cunt, the muscle inside you now digging in as deep as it could reach, lazily  contracting and expanding to toy out your reactions. The low groan of his voice sent a vibration through your core that caused enough of a rush of pleasure that you hardly noticed how bruising of a grip he had on your leg, keeping you flushed against him as much as he could.

He had taken his time with the first three climaxes and this seemed to be the case with this one too. This man had the potential to be an absolute brute- but he was treating you as if you were a fragile gemstone. Caution was to be heeded but you were in need of plenty of admiring. His tongue fucked you slowly and sweetly, the tip of his nose brushing against your clit every once in a while just to leave you mewling with each graze. Your own energy seemed to be coming back to your body too, because a particularly good thrust of his tongue had you freed leg involuntary jerking and knocking the side of his head with more force than you’d like to admit. You were caught in your own euphoria but you did have enough sense to realize that might have hurt and you gasped out. “S-sorry!” Your squeal tampered into a whine as his tongue retreated from you, leaving you feeling more empty than you wanted. But you had just kicked him. It was understandable he pulled away but your body was already desperate for your fourth.

Luckily he didn’t seem hurt. In fact, he appeared rather amused as he let go of your stomach and let his thumb move down to gently circle your clit, refusing to let your pleasure die down. “You got real squirrely on me there, huh?” He asked, flashing you the same charmed smile that caught your heart in the first place. This man smiled at you as if he had the world just to give to you. “Did it feel that good?” Softer now, his voice carried as a loving whisper in the space around you. So tender. Your pussy was clenching but your heart fluttered. “Let me make it feel even better.”

His finger moved to push inside you. Like everything else about this boy, his fingers were big too. The single digit stretched you out enough to make you keen and he moved to let his mouth lathe attention back to your folds. “Kick me as much as you want, princess. I’ll take whatever you got. Just let me make my princess feel soooo good.” The rumble in his voice vibrated against your heat as his finger worked and trusted inside you. Each stroke had you clamping down on him tighter, clinging to the intrusion as your hands moved to thread through his hair. Pleasure was rippling through your nerves and he fed off your reactions - your moans, your quivers, the drip of your heat around his finger. He picked up the pace each time you got needier, letting your bliss build and build and build. The pressure was so close. And when it got just right - just about ready for him to push you off the edge - he let his tongue focus solely on that pretty button of yours, playing it like a master musician. Your crying of his name was his masterpiece.

You came again and as that molten heat flooded your system, you barely registered the cheeky “four!” that was called out from inside your thighs. You did regain your senses enough to hear his sweet coos as he dropped your legs and moved to a kneel. “That’s it. You’re doing so, so well for me. I’m really proud of you, ya know? You’ve been handling it all and coming undone for me every time. You’re so gorgeous. How am I ever supposed to take my eyes off of you?”

He was leaning over you, kissing your lips till they were swollen, big hands soothing over your shaking body. “You’re not starting to hurt yet, are you? I’m trying to go slowly for you, but a million? That’s going to get you real sensitive. I’ll try and drag you into the pleasant parts of it a little faster now, alright? Just keep on taking me in, okay, pretty girl?” His hand found its way to your hair, smoothing over the top of it only so he could cup your face, pressing his forehead against yours. “Just like you always do. Yeah, you got this.”

His tip was pressed to your entrance and he suddenly had his hands off your face and grabbing your legs was more, bending them up over his shoulders. Mirio talked sweet and then had the tendency to bend you like a pretzel. But the way he had your body worked up had created enough heat within you to give you the flexibility he needed to get you into position. It also had you positively dripping and Mirio used that to lube up his cock as it glided from your entrance to between your folds and back, getting a layer of your sticky coating. “Ready for more? Getting such a good taste of my pretty girl got me all excited. Feel it?” His head was brushing alongside your entrance and it tipped in slowly, your hole protesting with a squeeze against the girth of it. “I’m practically bursting and it’s all because of you and how amazing you are. I can hardly hold back.”

Mirio’s hands found your own and pinned them above your head, intertwining fingers and squeezing as he pressed each individual inch of cock into your needy cunt. The stretch burned. Even with four orgasms and the stretch of his own finger, it still didn’t completely accommodate for his size. It was painful, but that’s why he went slow, letting you adjust as he got deeper and deeper and��� his tip kissed your cervix and you mewled out, hands tightening their grip around his. He let you settle over him, adjust and when he felt you relax is when he started to pull his hips back.

“Don’t hold back then.” Your voice was tiny- sweet and peacefully blissed out but he had heard. His hips stopped midway on the outwards and the groan he emitted was so deep that you almost mistook it for a growl..

“I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love you.” He slammed his hips back in. He didn’t mean to hurt you by any means but you got him so riled up some days he didn’t know how to handle himself. And with you having given him the go ahead, Mirio was finding his own pace, slamming heavy hips against your tight body. You could feel your vision blur with the force as the bed creaked underneath each motion. Mirio had a dick that could rearrange your guts if you weren’t careful. A mixture of pain and ecstasy dance over you, fighting for the spotlight with each snap of Mirio’s hips. But as he got faster, deeper, it was the euphoria that overcame and whimpering cries shifted to needy moans that only fueled your lovers movements.

The slam of the headboard bucking the wall now joined the chorus in the still-growing noise that had been created in the room. Tears pricked at your eyes but that didn’t dissuade you from calling out for more. “Miriii, pleaseeeee! Need ta’ cum-”

“How could I-” a grunt as he swung his hips down deeper still “- ever turn you down? Want me to cum with you? Cum inside you, princess?” You babbled out something that sounded like a yes and he groaned loudly. “Yessss. That’s a good girl. Gonna give you a kid, you want that? Your body sure does.” Another clench and Mirio managed out a strained laugh as he pressed your legs deeper to your chest. “Yeahhhhh, it does. Try not to spill a drop. But even if you do-” a slam of his hips “-ill just cum in you all over, okay? All for my-” slam! “-good-” slam! “-little-” he banged into you harder, harder, harder  “-princess.”

You screamed, feeling like his dick was splitting you in half as your orgasm sprang up on you. The first four had been honey like - sweet and slow. This one was more like a bolt of lightning as it rocked through you all at once, leaving your body in spasms. Those spasms were enough to coax Mirio too. Through your mental haze, you could feel warmth gush through your core, spilling deep inside your body - spilling out of it Mirio leaned further against you. He stopped himself from fully collapsing on you, not wanting to crush you. Even in his orgasmic bliss, his priority was keeping you safe at all costs - especially now with how utterly vulnerable and wrecked you looked underneath him. Were your eyes going crossed? They certainly were teary.

Cute.

He let you course through the sensations, keeping his cock situated in your depths. Hero stamina was fantastic. Having his cum lodged deep within you, spreading through your body gave him a mental image that riled him back up again even as your eyelids got heavy. Refractory period, who?

He chuckled gently, watching you start to doze off underneath him. He released your hand, only so he could tap your cheek and then jolt you awake with another buck of his hips. “Sorry, but no falling asleep yet! We’re only on number five!”

[unmaskedagain]

Remember You Young

I answered this ask because I thought it was adorable. I loved the show they wanted me to do, and I want to see who could guess it before it became obvious. Its a one-shot . 

She was being followed. At first it had been daunting when she realized it, and Marinette had done everything she could to shake them off her trail. Then she realized she was being stalked by kids. Literally kids. None older than ten or eleven at best.

           They had been terrible at hiding, rarely ever whispered, argued constantly, had the most outrageous costumes but somehow managed to keep up with Marinette’s every move... most of the time. They ran around with toy guns and pretend walky talkies.

           It either said the best thing about the kids’ skills, or the worst thing about Marinette’s.

           There was a husky boy who ran around in a blue shirt and goggles. He never took off the old pilot’s hat he wore. He was also… always eating cheese. Or candy. He liked puns that caused his friends to groan constantly.

           There was an Asian little girl who wore an adorable green sweater that was too big for her and the arms of the sweater went well past her hands. She was girly and seemed to be the sweetest of the bunch. Honestly, she was the happiest girl Marinette had ever seen in her entire life. The only time the kid had gotten upset was when she had cried when couldn’t find the stuffed animal she wanted in any of the stores. Marinette had been heartbroken for her. The bluenette didn’t know what a “Rainbow Monkey” was or why it had to be French but she was going to get it for the girl if it was the last thing she did it.

           A bald British boy seemed to be the leader as everyone took direction from him. Marinette had never seen his eyes due to the black glasses he wore. The kid seemed to believe himself to be some sort of superspy. He had a fierce take-charge attitude and barked orders like a pro and preferred to a treehouse their hung out at as headquarters. He didn’t smile often.

           A pretty black girl seemed to be the one with the most sense of the much, and the most style. She wore her hair in a long braid, a blue shirt-dress and an old red cap. The girl had a natural charisma and coolness to her that made Marinette feel awkward in comparison. She seemed to second-in-command .

           The smallest of the bunch was a blond boy with an unfortunate bowl cut and a bright orange hoody. He was loud, brash, and was the “tough guy” of the bunch. He picked a fight with nearly everyone. A fierce little guy that called Marinette a “Ruddy Teenager.”

           However all the kids seemed to dislike adults and teens to some degree. They cast suspicious glances at everyone thirteen and older no matter how nice they were. None of them ever called each other by their names, always opting to follow the rules of whatever game they were playing and called each other by numbers. And always mispronounced the word: number.

           Numbuh 1. Numbuh 2. Numbuh 3. Numbuh 4. Numbuh 5. Marinette hadn’t gotten close enough to figure out who was who but she did suspect the numbers were ranking order or anything. They were probably just random.

           After over two weeks of being stalked, Marinette still hadn’t been able to figure out what they wanted from her. Only that they didn’t know she was Ladybug. It was frustrating.

           She finally got answers one day while walking home from school when she got attacked by an evil cat lady who weaponized her pets, a deranged dentist who put braces on everyone, and a man dressed like toilet. They attempted to kidnap Marinette and raise all out heck on everyone around them. They weren’t Akumas. They were just crazy people.

           The kids fought them back. They saved the day. They saved Marinette. The villains ran with their tails between their legs.

           …Suddenly everything the kids had been doing didn’t seem like a game anymore.

           …Then the kids kidnapped Marinette. The kids jumped her, hogtied her, gagged her, and carried her back to their tree house… which Marinette now realized was way more advanced than any tree house should be. EVER.

           As soon as they got to there, and Marinette was uncharitably tossed on to the couch, the kids panicked.

“We shouldn’tve done this!” Goggles boy chimed. “We weren’t supposed to make contact. Moonbase will decommission us for sure.”

“And let the adults have her, Numbah 2,” The bald boy said. “I think not! We can never let the adults win. Its against everything the Kids Next Door stand for.”

The black girl nodded, “Numbah One’s right, we can’t let Father have what’s in her brain,” She said. “It could destroy the KND!”

“But that’s not possible, Numbah five, we all know that!” The girl in green said. “She got decommissioned. Her brain got all wishy-washy. Right, Numbah Four?”

           The blond boy huffed, “Yeah! Numbah Three’s got a point. And what’s so important about some ruddy teenager anyway? Tell you what! We should drop her artic ocean and never look back.”

           Numbah five groaned, “Are you stupid, boy? They sent Numbuh 274, I mean Chad, after her. And CREE! They wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t important. The supreme leader wouldn’tve sent us to stop them from getting her! Ya moron.”

           Marinette frowned at that. Chad, the handsome foreign exchange student that came to Marinette’s class a few weeks ago. All the girls in school thought he was so dreamy. Even Marinette, even though she had been perplexed at the sad, almost wistful looks he would shoot her when he thought he wasn’t looking. And at the stories he told about his childhood, and woud look at Marinette like he was waiting for her to jump in and finish them. Almost like he knew her. Or expected her to suddenly remember him.

           The same with Cree, a foreign exchange student in a grade above Marinette’s, but to a lesser extent than Chad. The older girl liked to make sly remarks about what being a teen meant where she came from. She cracked what seemed to be inside jokes at Marinette and looked crestfallen when it was clear the bluenette didn’t understand what she meant. Then Cree would grumble about stupid kids ruining everything.

“But WHHHHYYY?” Numbah Four whined. “We got sent a like bajillion miles away to         a city where they force kids to eat bugs and smelly cheese all to protect a teenager. A TEENAGER! And they don’t even tell us why.”

           Numbah Two frowned, “It is kind of strange. I mean we hate teenagers! They’re the worse. Why save this one?” He looked at Marinette like she was specimen in a jar.

“Because team,” Numbah One announced loudly, pausing for, what Marinette knew was, dramatic effect.  “She is Numbah Seventy-Two.”

           Gasps rang through the room. The kids reared back as if struck. Their eyes went wide and they started at Marinette in awe.

“…Or at least she used to be,” Numbah One added.

“Woah,” Numbah Four said, looking at Marinette with newfound respect.

           Numbah Two sqeauled, “This is the best day ever. You have to sign my Yipper card.” He told Marinette. “It’s an ultra-rare collectable. Only three still exists. The rest were destroyed.”

“But, but, but how?” Numbah Five asked, removing her hat. “All records of Numbah Seventy-Two was struck from the history of the KND. Only the supreme leader and her team ever knew what happened to her.”

“They pinky-swore not to tell anyone what happened!” Numbah Three added. “No one would ever break a pinky promise.”

“That’s true,” Numbah five nodded. “No kid ever would. Expecially not her team. She saved us. She saved the KND. She saved the world and made it better for kids everywhere.”

           Numbah One nodded. “Exactly. No kid would ever break the solemn oath. But do you remember just who was one her team?”

           Looks of realization appeared on the kids’ faces, and then anger.

“Numbah Two Hundred and Seventy-Four,” Numbah Five said bitterly. “He was Number Seventy-Two’s second in command for years. And He betrayed her. Why am I not surprised?”

“But why?” Numbah Two asked. “I mean if she was still Numbah Seventy-Two I’d understand. She stopped Principle Boutface from ending summer vacation forever. She stopped Father from making Halloween adults only forever and ever. Name a bad guy, and I can guarantee she kicked their butts! And most importantly she even beat…” Numbah Two paused, clearly afraid. “well you know. She’s done loads of cool things. But She can’t remember anything. So why? Why come get her now?”

“She beat who?” Numbah Four asked. “I don’t know. Who’d she else did she beat? Why were they so important?”

           Numbah One and Five looked away. Both remembered but neither wanted to say anything.

“We were still just little babies when it happened,” Numbah Three answered seriously. “Still finishing training. We never really knew what was going on. Too little for anyone to tell us. We just knew it was bad. Kids were always scared, always hurting…”

“It was a dark time,” Numbah One agreed. “Before Father took over, there was another in charge of the evil adults in the world. But he worse than Father could’ve ever dreamed of being. Kids were scared to go to sleep. They were afraid of their closets and what was under their beds. OF every shadow. No kid would be caught out after dark. They were too scared. Nowhere was safe. No one was safe. Not from him. Not from…”

“The Boogieguy,” Numbah Five finished. “The most powerful leader the adults ever had. The strongest, most evil villain you can imagine. But Numbah Seventy-Two refused to back down. She was the only who could stand up to him. The only one to ever beat him.”

           Numbah Two nodded, “Legend says the Boogieguy had a nasty plan to open a portal to unleash meanest, nastiest monsters another world to get kids to behave better. But Numbah Seventy-Two heard and went to beat him once and for all. And she did too. She trapped him in his own trap. He’s been there ever since!”

Numbah Three added, “Numbah Seventy-Two finally defeated the Boogieguy, she locked him away in a place so scary, so terrifying not even the adults would be willing to go near it. Which it means it has to be really, really, REALLY, scary. Only she knew how to get him out. She used a super-secret password that only she knew. And then, and then she, she!” Numbah Three burst into tears.

Numbah One placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her down, “To stop the Boogieguy for good, and to make sure no kid ever had to suffer his wrath again, she decommissioned herself. She was only eleven.”

“It was a hard sacrifice, but one kids everywhere will never forget,” Numbah One vowed. “And the Global KND didn’t let it be in vain. We fought back harder than ever before. Her team-”

“But, but,” Numbah Four look around, “She wasn’t even a teenager, why’d she go and do a stupid thing like that for?”

“To save us,” Numbah Five answered, and put her hat back on. She looked at Marinette with hard eyes. “To save the KND, and protect kids everywhere. Because of her, the KND finally turned the tables on adults. We weren’t scared of the dark anymore.”

“Was never the same!” Numbah Five snapped at him. “None of them were ever the same after fighting Boogieguy, after what happened to Numbah Seventy-Two. They couldn’t handle being around each other anymore. They are transferred to different teams. Their entire sector was retired. Number Three Hundred and Sixty-Two. Numbuh Sixty. My sister- Cree! Numbah Two Hundred and Seventy-Four, UGH! Look what they became. Ya don’t need to be decommissioned to not recognize them anymore.”

           It went quiet. The kids not knowing what to say. Marinette had never been so confused in her life. Had she been some sort of Spy kid? Had her memories been erased? What was going on?

           And if everything, the kids were saying was real, and Marinette decided that it was, then she was a little peeved at Chad and Cree, her old teammates apparently, for going against everything this KND had accomplished… That Marinette had apparently sacrificed herself for. And what for? To side with some evil adults?

“…The KND have figured out a way to destroy Boogieguy forever,” Numbah one said. “Unfortunately the adults have also become aware of the Boogieguy’s location and want release him. In order for either side to succeed in their mission, we need Numbah Seventy-Two.”

           All eyes turned back to Marinette.

Numbah Five cast a sad look at Numbah Seventy-Two, Marinette, “Chad and Cree will come for her.” Of that Numbah five was certain. The lone picture of ABC that sat next to Cree’s bedside nightstand was proof enough of that. It was the only thing her big sister ever kept of her KND days, apart from her memories. The only “little kid” thing she didn’t scorn. “They won’t stop until they get her. I don’t think Cree or Chad ever forgave the KND agreeing that Numbah Seventy-Two should erase her memories.”

           They never forgave themselves for letting her, Abby didn’t add.

“She was decommissioned, hello!” Numbah Two reminded them. “She can’t remember anything.”

           Number One took off his glasses and looked at the teenager who, in another life, had been everything he ever dreamed of being in the KND. She was a legend. A hero. She had, once, been the best of them all. “She will.”

[flourgirl]

Sick of Losing Soulmates

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Months after you and Peter have broken up, you run into each other at Harry’s Christmas party.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Both fluffy and angsty. Mentions of alcohol and sex. A mild amount of curse words.

A/N: I’m ALIVE! I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday season, and Merry Christmas to everybody that celebrates it! I am so happy to be able to share my work with all of you! Enjoy <3

“And maybe we got lost in translation Maybe I asked for too much But maybe this thing was a masterpiece Till you tore it all up” -All Too Well, Taylor Swift

He wasn’t supposed to be here. Harry had promised you that his roommate would be spending the holidays with May back in Queens. But here he was, wearing the sweater that you had given him last year with his arm snaked around another girl’s waist.

“Hey!” Betty grinned, throwing her arms around you. She had a half-empty glass of mulled wine that you could tell was doing a good job of getting her tipsy. “I’ve missed you so much, Y/N. We never see each other anymore.”

She pouted, a pair of reindeer antlers where her signature black headband usually sat. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” you assured her, still staring at Peter effortlessly carrying the conversation with a bunch of people you didn’t recognize. “Uh, who’s the girl with Peter?”

“Gwen Stacy,” she muttered, obviously not a very big fan. You figured it was because there was only room for one preppy blonde girl, and Betty didn’t feel like sharing that position with anybody else. “Don’t worry though! It’s nothing serious. Peter actually hasn’t really dated anybody ever since the two of you…”

Her voice trailed off as you locked eyes with her, silently communicating for her to drop the subject. It was a relief to know that he hadn’t moved on, but the fact that he was wrapped up in a fling with somebody else still made your heart hurt.

“Come on, Y/N. I’m sure MJ and Ned would love to see you! They’re over in the kitchen.” She reached for your hand, dragging you along through Harry’s expertly decorated apartment. 

You dropped the box of cookies that you had baked on the counter before tapping MJ on the shoulder. She was turned away from you, lecturing Ned on why his secondhand Beyblades were not acceptable Christmas presents.

“Who the hell is touching me?” she snapped, turning around with a look on her face that told you she was ready to throw hands. “Holy fuck. Y/N! How long have you been here?”

MJ’s frown faded into a smile as she pulled you into a side-hug, her other hand busy nursing a glass of Harry’s infamously terrible eggnog. “Only a few minutes,” you laughed, your face smushed into her torso. 

“Hi,” Ned piped up, offering a small wave. You could tell he didn’t really know where he stood ever since his best friend basically ripped your heart out and threw it on the floor. Well, it wasn’t actually that dramatic, but he had a flair for exaggerating stories. “Remember me?”

“Of course, stupid,” you grinned, offering a fist bump that he happily accepted. “How could I forget those iconic fits of yours?”

“True,” he said, popping his collar and doing a little twirl that made Betty and MJ roll their eyes. “You look pretty fly too, though.”

“Thanks,” you replied, holding the edge of your dress as you curtsied, something you and Ned had made a habit of doing as the so-called best dressed members of the group.

“You two are just as ridiculous as ever,” Betty mused, happy to see you still fit in just as perfectly as when you were Peter’s girlfriend, even if you weren’t around as much.

The reunion was interrupted by the loud chatter of a certain couple, and your heart sank as you watched a very drunk Peter and Gwen stumble towards the kitchen, a giggling mess. They situated themselves under the archway that separated the two rooms, a piece of mistletoe conveniently hanging above them. 

You could tell that MJ was ready to put a stop to her friend’s embarrassing behavior, and the looks on Ned and Betty’s faces told you that they had no intentions of holding her back. 

“They’re so gross,” MJ complained, setting down her untouched cup before excusing herself to drag Peter out of his drunken makeout session. “I can’t believe he’d do that when you’re right here!”

“Wait, MJ,” you blurted, grabbing onto her wrist to stop her. She turned to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. “It’s okay. I don’t care about it. I’m just going to head to the bathroom, alright? I’ll be right back.”

You did your best to stop yourself from tearing up, although you realized you had made the utter mistake of forgetting that the very arch that Peter and Gwen were sucking each other’s faces under was the only way out of the kitchen.

Not even a few moments of you awkwardly standing next to them, occasionally clearing your throat, made them notice you. Eventually, the discomfort grew too heavy, and you tapped Peter on the shoulder. He finally pulled away from Gwen, her lipstick smudged across his mouth and a dazed look on his face.

Gwen whimpered at the loss of his kiss, obviously annoyed at the random girl that had just interrupted them. As soon as Peter recognized that it was you, he stepped away from her, wiping his mouth and fixing the hair she had been running her hands through, just like you used to.

“Y/N. I didn’t know that you’d be here,” he reasoned, a blush spreading across his face as a sense of regret settled into his stomach. 

“Obviously,” you sighed. This wasn’t the Peter you knew—the sweet, shy one that you had fallen in love with. “You guys are blocking the hallway, by the way.”

“Shit, sorry,” he stammered, stepping aside to allow you to pass in between them. He followed you, leaving Gwen irritated and confused as to who you were. “Y/N. Can we talk later?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Nice sweater, though,” you quipped, not even turning back to meet his gaze before climbing the stairs towards the guest bathroom. Everything felt all too familiar, memories of you and Peter stumbling up the same steps after a date flooding your brain.

The first time Peter had kissed you was after MJ’s birthday party. Neither of you had been drinking, since you hated alcohol and Peter refused to touch any before he turned 21. This meant that you got to spend the whole night laughing at everybody else’s drunken mischief. 

In the middle of his performance of some Nicki Minaj song, Ned managed to spill a whole can of beer on you and Peter, which resulted in many cheers as the two of you ran to his room to grab a change of clothes. Shirts came off, confessions were made, and the party went on without you guys.

You took a deep breath, shutting the bathroom door behind you and sitting on the edge of the bathtub. If you had known Peter would end up being here, you would have never accepted Harry’s invitation. There were so many old wounds being opened up that you had spent months trying to heal, and you weren’t sure some stupid Christmas party was worth it. 

But you didn’t want to leave. It wasn’t fair how much the break up had stolen from you. All of your friends were here and you were tired of shying away from going out with them anymore because you were too scared to see Peter. Too scared that you would never be able to stop being in love with him.

By the time you rejoined the rest of your friends, Harry was announcing that it was time to start the game of White Elephant. You bit the edges of your fingernails as the party guests filed into Harry’s living room, hoping that Peter wouldn’t somehow pick your present.

“What’d you bring?” you asked Betty, squishing in next to her on the couch. 

“Gift card to In-N-Out,” she giggled, satisfied that her present could only be used on the other side of the country. “But Harry’s rich friends might not have any trouble flying their private jets to California, so maybe I’m not as clever as I thought.”

“Heard that,” Harry said, leaning behind you on the edge of the couch. He placed a quick kiss on your cheek, something the two of you had always done as friends but stopped once you started dating Peter. “Hey, Y/N. Glad you could make it.”

“Hey, you,” you replied, smiling back at him, your leg bouncing impatiently. “We doing this thing or what?”

“Yeah, yeah, give me a minute,” he laughed, running out of the room. Moments later, he came back wearing a fake beard and a Santa hat, complete with a miniature sack of toys. 

“Alright, boys and girls. Let’s get this game started! Hopefully you all know the rules, but I’ll repeat them anyway. I draw a name out of the sack, you pick a random present and open it up for everybody to see. The next person that goes can either steal your gift or pick a new one. If your gift gets stolen, you get to do the same. No stealing twice!”

The first couple of people you didn’t really know, and they had all pulled presents that were relatively uninteresting. A scented candle, toilet paper, a pair of socks. Nothing you really considered worth stealing, although Ned ended up taking a framed, autographed photo of Harry from MJ, which resulted in her stealing Gwen’s mini waffle iron.

By the time it was your turn, there weren’t many gifts left. Going with your gut, you grabbed the bag covered in glittering polar bears. Reaching past all of the tissue paper stuffed inside, you pulled out a red sweatshirt that you unfolded to see had a large graphic of Spider-Man printed on it. 

“Oh,” you said, a little confused. The only people you knew that wore stuff with the Avengers on it were little kids, but you figured that was part of the joke. “I mean, I prefer Captain America, but thanks, whoever this is from!”

Peter’s face blushed to a shade of red, amazed that out of all the presents, you picked his. The only issue was that you didn’t know that he was actually the guy on the front of it. Nobody except Ned knew, although he was sure that MJ and Harry had caught on to his secret identity by now.

“Okay, two people left. Jake, you’re up next, buddy,” Harry called out, happily bouncing around the room, his Santa hat now replaced with a baseball cap that had “I Love Ned!” embroidered on it. You watched nervously as he walked around the room, eyeing up all of the presents before settling on the tiny, golden box that you had placed under the tree when you first arrived.

“Let’s see what we’re working with,” he smirked. Your thoughts raced, immediately feeling a sense of regret over the gift you had picked. “Oh, shit. Sweet! I’ve got a date with Y/N!”

“Sup, baby,” Jake continued, his words slightly slurred. He pointed at you and winked, and you offered him a polite smile in return. “We’re gonna have a good time. Just name the time and place and I got you.”

“Awesome, congrats, man,” Harry said, obviously ready for the game to be over. It had been going for way longer than any of you had expected, mostly due to the fact that two girls wouldn’t stop arguing over a piece of rose quartz. “Okay, we’re nearly finished, guys. Peter, you’re up. Pick any of the gifts that haven’t been stolen yet, or the last one under the tree.”

You locked eyes with him, a familiar scowl on his face that told you he was thinking really hard about which gift to pick. His spidey-senses felt your heartbeat pick up as he walked around the room before stopping in front of Jake, who was busy gloating to his friend about how “hot” you were. Your face heated up as you watched Peter take the little note that you had written out of Jake’s hands, smugly gesturing for him to pick up the present under the tree.

He waved sheepishly at you, and you felt both relieved and angry at his decision. Did you want to go on that date with Jake? No. Were you still mad that, technically, you now had to go out with your ex-boyfriend? Yes.

The game ended and the party-goers dispersed throughout the apartment. You lingered in your spot on the couch, your arms crossed and heart full of mixed emotions. Peter, whose gaze never strayed from you, walked over to where you were sitting.

“We don’t actually have to go out,” he whispered, hoping that you’d actually look at him this time. “I just didn’t think you wanted to go out with that guy. He seemed like kind of an asshole.”

“Yeah, well, it would have been nice if you let me decide that. You’re not my boyfriend, anymore Peter. We aren’t even friends. You don’t get a say in who I go out on dates with,” you grumbled, your eyes focusing on everything in the room except for him.

Before you could say anything else, Peter had already grabbed you by the hand, dragging you away from the rest of the party. Strangely enough, you went along with it, a little curious to hear him out.

You started to remember your first date, and it was almost like you could hear his excited laughter after you finally managed to knock a pin down. It became a tradition that whenever you had something to celebrate, Peter would pick you up and twirl you around until you had to beg him to stop.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Peter slamming the door behind him and cornering you against it, his heartbeat racing. He had pulled you into the laundry room. “I can’t stand seeing you with anybody else,” he panted, eyes flickering down towards your mouth.

His hand pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear, and your breath hitched as you felt his rough fingertips against your skin. But before he could lean in to kiss you, you were ducking underneath his arm and backing away.

“Peter, we really shouldn’t,” you whispered, watching the disappointment wash over his face. No matter how much you wanted to kiss him, you just couldn't forget how he had broken your heart months ago. “It’s over, okay?”

“Y/N, please. I—”

“You what? You love me? Because last time we were together, I told you how much I loved you and you said that we should break up. Remember?” you cried, embarrassed at how you couldn’t control your emotions anymore. “You’re just… you’re too late.”

You fumbled with the door, slipping through the opening before rushing towards the balcony. As soon as the cold air hit you, a wave of relief washed over your body, and you laid your head against the metal railing. Your breathing slowed and time seemed to stand still as you watched the snowflakes flutter through the wind.

“Peter’s an idiot,” you heard a voice call out from behind you. You turned to see Harry holding an extra coat in his arms, and you started to wonder just how long you had been standing out there. He draped it over your shoulders before leaning next to you against the balcony’s edge.

“Huh?” you asked, wondering if he knew what had just happened. You looked at him, the multicolored Christmas lights reflecting off his shiny hair. “What do you mean?”

“He’s stupid for ever letting you go,” he remarked. He had a look in his eyes that made you unsure of what he actually meant. “I mean, look at you. You’re so beautiful, and smart, and funny. And if he was dumb enough to throw all of that away, then yeah, Peter’s an idiot.”

“Oh, thanks, I guess,” you shrugged, your voice faint under the music that was still playing inside. You looked at him, his cheeks a rosy hue, which you couldn’t tell was from the cold or whatever he was trying to tell you.

“You know, I used to have the biggest crush on you,” Harry admitted, laughing a little bit at how nervous he was. Everybody knew that he was a player, so being flustered over a girl was uncharted territory for him. “I never told you this, but you were my first kiss.”

“Wait, really?” you asked, a little shocked at his confession. “But I thought you kissed Sarah Emerson on the playground in the fifth grade?”

“Nope. I was just a liar,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair. “It was right before our eighth grade formal, when you asked me to teach you how to kiss because you were scared that Jeremy Pellegrino was going to try and french you.

“Oh! I forgot all about that,” you laughed, suddenly remembering just how long you and Harry had been friends. “Hold on a second... You gave me kissing lessons without knowing how to kiss!?”

“Guilty,” Harry chuckled as you punched him on the arm. “Ow! Damn, Y/N. When did you get so strong?”

“I have a lot of rage,” you mumbled before the two of you burst out into laughter, which slowly faded into a comfortable silence. 

“You don’t feel that way anymore, right?” you wondered out loud. Harry looked at you, smiling softly.

“No, not anymore,” he affirmed, and you let out a sigh of relief. You knew what it felt like to love someone and not be loved back. “I think what really helped me get over it was seeing how happy you and Parker were when you were dating.” 

“He misses you a lot,” Harry continued, his tone more serious than before. “He keeps this scarf that you left behind under his pillow because it still smells like you. I found out because he was having a pretty bad dream one night and I had to try really hard to calm him back down. And we both thought Gwen would help him move on and get his mind off of you, but I think she only made him realize just how much he still loves you—”

“Harry,” you interrupted, cutting his rambles short. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because you and Peter should be together.”

“You think so?” you asked him, pulling the jacket tighter to keep you warm.

“Yeah. We all do.” It took only seconds for Harry to realize his fumble, accidentally admitting that the whole thing had been planned by him and your friends.

“We?” Your frowned, all of the coincidences from tonight suddenly making much more sense. “Wait, did you know that Peter was going to be here tonight all along?”

“Uh… yeah, about that. MJ, Ned, and I have kind of been pulling a Parent Trap on you guys.”

“HARRY!” You glared inside to see them not-so-secretly watching the entire exchange from behind the Christmas tree. Ned did some awkward finger guns, which MJ immediately swatted down. “I am so going to get you guys!”

You marched inside to where your friends were attempting to hide, the rest of the party guests too drunk and oblivious to notice what was happening. 

“The eagle has left the nest. I repeat, The eagle has left the nest!” Ned yelled, ducking behind MJ, who was already shielding herself with a throw pillow.

“What’s going on?” Betty whined, half-asleep on the couch. “Is this that stupid plan about Peter and Y/N?”

“It’s not stupid!” Harry grumbled, his voice cracking a little bit. You could hear MJ snorting about it from her hiding spot. “Whatever, Michelle.”

“Shut up!” she shouted back.

“No, you!” he said, crossing his arms and standing his ground.

“Make me,” MJ said, narrowing her eyes and shooting daggers at him.

“Uh, guys. This isn’t about you two,” Ned interrupted, snapping them out of their mini argument. There was a weird tension between them that you just knew you would have to address some time in the future.

“Right,” MJ continued, sticking a middle finger up at Harry before turning to you. “Y/N. You should go talk to Peter.”

You nodded, exchanging hopeful looks with each of your friends before walking away. They might be dramatic goofballs, but you loved them so much that you didn’t really care.

Wandering around the party, you spotted Peter trapped in a conversation with Brad Davis, who was explaining his conspiracy theories about the Denver Airport and its demonic horse statue.

“So, all I’m saying is that they’re totally planning the end of the world over there. I mean, the Freemasons built an entire bunker for when they activate the nukes!” he rambled, Peter politely nodding along to his nonsense.

“Hey,” you said, tapping Brad on the shoulder and batting your eyelashes at him. “Can I borrow Peter?”

“Uh, yeah, totally, Y/N,” he stuttered, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards into a smirk. You could smell the peppermint Schnapps on his breath.

“Great. Thanks, Brad!” you smiled, grabbing Peter’s hand and pulling him towards the staircase. By the time you made it to his bedroom, he had already asked what was going on about ten times.

“Why’d you dump me?” you asked, the two of you sitting together on the edge of his bed, your knee brushing against his. He could tell you were wasting no time in getting to the point. “Be honest.”

He stared at the floor, unsure of how to answer your question. You reached for his hand, running your thumb across his knuckles until he looked up to see you smiling at him. His eyes were starting to water. “Just tell me, Peter. It’s okay.”

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I was scared of how much I love you. I mean, Liz was just a crush, and Gwen was a hookup. I’ve only ever loved you, Y/N. Before we met, I had to watch May’s heart break day after day when we lost Uncle Ben, and when I realized how much I loved you... I just wasn’t sure if I could handle ever losing you like that. And so I felt like I needed to protect you from all of the people who would want to hurt you.”

“Hey, Peter. Calm down. I’m right here,” you whispered, wiping a tear from his face. You watched as his breathing slowed, eventually evening out. “Why would anybody want to hurt me?”

“Because…” he started, hesitating a little bit. “Because I’m Spider-Man.”

Your eyes grew big as you mulled over what he had just said. “Are you being serious right now?”

He nodded, feeling a weight lift from his chest. Your eyes followed him as he walked over to his closet, digging around through piles of clothes before he found what he was looking for.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out. Peter was holding up Spider-Man’s suit. His suit. The sweatshirt from earlier made a lot more sense now.

“I would never lie to you,” he said, folding it up and sitting back down. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I thought I was doing the right thing—that you’d be safe—but I was so stupid. I, uh, I think about you all the time. I worry whether you’ve gotten home alright and how your little brother’s doing and if your mom got the promotion that she wanted and—”

You cut him off with a kiss, something you had been dying to do ever since you shut his bedroom door. “I forgive you,” you sighed, gently playing with his hair.

Peter stared back at you, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Does this mean that we’re back together?”

“Yep,” you confirmed, before leaning into another kiss. And another. And another.

“Wait,” Peter said, breaking away from you. “I have a present for you. It’s actually from when we first started dating, but I was waiting until Christmas to give it to you.”

He moved to his desk, digging through one of the drawers before pulling out a flash drive. “Here it is,” he smiled, dropping it into your hand. It had your name scribbled on it next to a cat sticker. “It’s a playlist. Of all the songs that make me think of you. I think it’s got around a hundred on there?”

“Wow,” you beamed, marveling at the little piece of plastic in your hand. “You’re making me look bad. I didn’t get you anything.”

“Not true. You owe me a date, remember?” he reminded you, wiggling his eyebrows and pulling you into his lap.

“You’re right. Let me think,” you hummed, running through all the ideas of what the two of you could do. “Oh! I got it. The Central Park Squirrel Census for this year just got released. What if we analyzed the data? You could do the wrangling and I could do the visualizations!”

“I love you so much,” he laughed, pressing a kiss onto the tip of your nose. You giggled as Peter buried his face into your shoulder, his grip around your waist tightening. “But you are such a nerd.”

“I’m your nerd, Parker,” you agreed, leaning further into his embrace. “Always have been and always will be.”

—————-

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[poutyyybangtan]

ready or not - j.jk

genre: friends to lovers, enemy to lovers, (almost a slow burn?), a mix of everything lol  character pairing: jeon jungkook 9bts) x female oc warnings: not really any lol just angsty fluff kinda stuff word count: 5.4k (it’s alot) authors note: i wrote this months ago and it’s not finished but i can finish it if yall want? let me know :)

______

(prompts from @im-here-to-help-you-all-write​)

“i think the longer you look at it, the worse it gets.” “yeah, kinda like your face.”

“i need your help.” “holy shit, i never thought i’d hear you say that.’ “please don’t rub it in right now.”

“i don’t feel like i’m ready for this yet” “you’re going to have to be, because we’re out of time.”

you can’t believe you actually had to do this. the last person you ever wanted to look at was your only shot at getting out of the situation you brought upon yourself. you had originally counted on one of your other friends to help you out, but of course, life never seemed to work out the way you wanted it to. 

“jin, please. can’t you just cancel and come with me?” you begged, watching as your older companion continued to chop away at some vegetables. 

“you know i would love to help bamboozle your family with my impeccable acting skills, but unfortunately, i do have a business to run. this weekend is a big deal for the restaurant and joon would kill me if i left him alone to handle such a thing. and besides, we all know joon can’t toast bread without having to call the fire department first,” jin laughs. you laugh softly, knowing jin had a point. poor namjoon had amazing business skills, but unfortunately that means he lacks in the cooking department. 

“i guess you’re right,” you mumble begrudgingly. 

“why not ask jimin if he can go?” jin asks, sliding the chopped vegetables into a pot.

“my mom knows him, she’ll know something isn’t right. and besides, he and hobi are going to a dance camp for school,” you shrug.

“and tae? yoongi?” jin asks.

“he’s got that test retake for his photography class and yoongs has an audition for an entertainment company in gangnam,” you sigh. you’re really proud of all your friends and the successes they have, but you really wished they could’ve helped you in your time of need. but you couldn’t be that selfish, so maybe you had to admit defeat. 

“you know, you could just ask jungkook,” jin asks nonchalantly. 

“you know i can’t do that,” you answer bluntly, refusing to even entertain the idea.

“i mean, you could,” jin laughs, putting the lid on the pot and onto the stove top, turning to you afterwards.

“jin, you know i can’t. he is the last person on earth i would ask to help me. i would rather die of embarrassment than to ask him for his help,” you dramatically claim.

“you just might if you don’t ask. besides, what's the big deal? it’s only for a weekend,” jin shrugs.

“yeah, a whole weekend of him pretending to be my boyfriend. jin, we can barely tolerate each other as is, having us cooped up together and pretending like we actually like each other is a whole other ball game,” you said.

“well, here’s the way i look at it. either you tell your mother that you don’t have a boyfriend and face embarrassment at your mother's wedding, or you can suck it up, ask jungkook nicely to do you this one favor, and have fun this weekend. you never know, jungkook might actually be up for it,” jin says, an underlying suggestive tone in his voice; one that you never caught.

you had to admit, jin was right. as painful as it was, jungkook was your only chance at escaping this nightmarish weekend. 

-

you found jungkook in his usual zone of comfort: with his lips attached to some random girl he probably barely knew. you found yourself scrunching your face in distaste. such a vulgar display in a library no less. you huffed off your second doubts and approached the table with confidence. you noticed that neither party acknowledged your presence, so you knocked on the table to gain their attention. reluctantly, the girl pulled away first to throw you a bitter look.

“jeon, can we talk?” you say softly, not trying to cause a disturbance.

“i’m kind of busy, can’t it wait?” jungkook asks, a smug look on his face, the girl sat next to him donned a complacent smile on hers.

“please, i saw you making out with some bimbo blonde yesterday, i’m sure you can find some other toy to play with when we’re done,” you smirk, watching the look on the girls face fall with every passing word that escaped your lips. she glanced over at jungkook with disgust before grabbing her belongings and walking away in a fit.

“great, well there goes my whole afternoon,” jungkook scoffs. he leans into his chair, folding his arms over his chest.

“you’ll deal. look, i need your help,” you admit, much to your dismay.

“holy shit, i never thought i’d hear you say that,” jungkook laughs ironically.

“please don’t rub it in right now,” you groan.

“how can i offer my service to you?” jungkook smirks, looking up at your obviously irritated figure.

“i need... i can’t believe i’m saying this. i need you to be my boyfriend for the weekend,” you spit out.

“you what?” jungkook asks incredulously. you don’t blame him for his confusion. what you were asking was heinous, add to the fact that you two barely tolerated each other? it was the biggest taboo situation you could’ve put yourself in. but you were desperate.

your mother, as loving as she was, was relentless. she just wanted the best for you. you were about to graduate college soon, about to get a real career and be a real adult. and to her, that meant start a family as soon as possible. and that couldn’t happen without being in a relationship first. and what better way than to hook your daughter up at a gathering for family friends? cause nothing says love like a wedding, right?

“what’s in it for me?” jungkook asks. you looked at him in disbelief.

“wait, you’re actually considering it?” you asked.

“well, you gave me a proposition, so why not?” jungkook asks. 

“uh, because we’re not necessarily friends? it’s not like you owe me anything to even consider the idea,” you chuckle.

“you might not be my friend, but that doesn’t mean i’m not yours,” jungkook shrugs, finally standing up and collecting his scattered books. you hadn’t actually noticed them before, you just thought that the library was a good place for jungkook to hook up, not an actual study zone. 

“well, uh, what do you have in mind?” you asked, answering his question finally. 

“i need a date for this work thing, and my usual hookups aren't going to cut it. they’re not exactly what you would say… modest?” jungkook jokes, causing you to laugh a little bit. 

“sound like a deal?” jungkook asks after a moment of silence passes. you pretend to consider his proposition, as if you actually had a choice. you look up at him and you can see that he saw that too.

“what kind of work thing?”

=

“where are you going?” jimin asks, watching you step out of your bedroom clad in a cocktail dress. you really would’ve rather been at your shared apartment, cuddled up next to jimin and tae watching some horror film eating greasy food, but alas, you had to uphold your end of the bargain.

“remember i told you that in order for jungkook to uphold his end, i have to uphold mine? apparently, he works at some magazine company and they’re having a company gathering to celebrate the issue's 90th anniversary and he needed me to come with,” you groan, strapping on your heels. 

“you’re going all out for this,” taehyung comments, a teasing tone hidden in his words. you looked up and glared at him, knowing what he meant.

“if i put forth 100%, maybe he will too,” you say. 

“oh, he most definitely will be putting in 100% effort,” jimin says, low enough for only taehyung to hear which makes him giggle. you look up and see jimin smirking at you which makes you groan internally. 

suddenly, the doorbell rings and you thank whatever being there is that saves you from the conversation that was happening, with or without your participation. you pull the door open and the first thing you see is jungkook, properly dressed head to toe. you notice the bow tie pressed snuggly against his neck, not a wrinkle in his suit jacket or his dress shirt. his long hair was parted down the middle, brushed out out of his eye. you hated to admit it, but he looked breathtakingly beautiful. 

“wow,” jungkook finally says, eyeing you in a way that made the blood pool in your cheeks. 

“uh, yeah. let’s- let’s go,” you murmur, noticing the boys in the living room giggling at your guys’ interaction. you shove him in his chest. he grabs your hands and laughs, pulling you out the door.

“what did i miss?” jungkook asks. you roll your eyes, noticing the way jungkook held onto your hand, even after you got further and further away from your apartment, but not minding the warmth his hand provided against your cold one. 

“trust me, nothing you want to hear, and nothing i’m willing to repeat,” you scoff.

=

jungkook was right. he had warned you beforehand that everyone at his job was stuck up and snobbish and would continuously point out that fact that you were no model. and like he had forewarned, all you heard all night was “you’re too pretty not to be a model” or “jungkook ended up with you?” you were appalled, sure, but you didn’t take their words to heart. you don’t know these people, and after tonight, you’re never going to see them again. 

but jungkook flinched every time someone opened their mouth. he felt bad for you, but when he saw you delicately handle the situation, he knew you would be fine. still, it didn’t make him feel any less bad. 

“we can leave whenever you want, you know?” jungkook whispers into your ear. you look up at him and smile.

“sounds like you’re using me as an excuse to ditch this snooze fest,” you giggle. jungkook smiles back down at you and laughs with you.

“busted,” he finally says.

“thank god, let’s ditch these runway wannabes and get some pizza. i’m starved,” you groan, looking away, missing the endearing glance he tosses your way. you both ditch the stuffy building, and headed to a late night pizza shop down the corner. you sigh in relief once you step into the restaurant, inhaling the smell of cheese and dough. you both decide to seat yourselves in a booth in the corner of the dining area.  once you both place your orders, you settle into a comfortable silence. 

“so, what caused you to conjure up this boyfriend lie?” jungkook asked after awhile. 

“my mom thinks that i need to be in a relationship to be happy since i’m getting ready to enter the real world,” you sigh, rolling your eyes and leaning into your elbows that rested on the table.

“thats stupid,” jungkook scoffs, leaning into the booth. you were caught off guard by this, expecting jungkook to somewhat agree with your mother.

“you look surprised,” he says, gauging your reaction.

“i kind of am. not gonna lie, i was expecting you to agree with her,” you say, shrugging. the waiter brings your slices and leaves you two alone, settling back into the conversation.

“no way. if you want to be single, you should. i’m sure you’re single by choice anyways,” jungkook says, picking up his pizza and taking a huge bite of it.

“what do you mean?” you ask him, slightly confused behind the intentions of his sentence. 

“i just mean that you’re insanely smart, funny and talented. and you’re extremely beautiful. if you wanted any guy, you could have him,” jungkook shrugs, munching on his pizza in peace. meanwhile, his statement sent you into a frenzy. who knew jeon jungkook thought so highly of you. you were under the impression that he dispised your entire being. he never really complimented you before, so his statement shocked you. 

“never knew you thought so highly of me,” you said, smiling to yourself. you can’t really explain it and you don’t know why, but knowing how jungkook truly felt about you made you extremely happy. 

“there’s a lot you don’t now about me,” he winks, causing you to roll your eyes and eat your pizza. and yet again, you missed the way jungkook smiled at you, enjoying your presence more than he would care to admit to. 

=

“i don’t feel like i’m ready for this yet,” you murmur, feeling your hands start to shake as you stood outside the venue. 

“you’re going to have to be, because we’re out of time,” jungkook smiles, taking hold of your hand and waltzing you two into the building. your mom had asked you to come early for a surprise so you decided to give her a surprise of your own.

“jungkook, maybe we should say you caught food poisoning and we had to leave,” you murmured as jungkook continued to drag you further and further into the building. jungkook smiled at your child-like nature and shook his head.

“we’ve come too far to give up now. let’s just rock this and get home,” he says, smiling at you. you felt a sudden urge of confidence that surges through you and gives you enough momentum to swing open the doors of the chapel hall. you were taken aback by the way the chairs are decorated with white pieces, hanging off the backs. you take notice of the pale yellow and white combo that you didn’t think would match so well. you felt happy for your mom and that she met someone who loved her so much that they were willing to do this for her to cherish the day.

“it’s beautiful,” you gape, admiring all the minute details your mother probably agonized over. jungkook admired the astonished look on your face as you practically ignored his presence to take in your surroundings. he always found you beautiful, but watching you be you while nobody was looking was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. jungkook had the biggest crush on you for as long as he could remember. and he refused to even fathom the thought of confessing to you when he knew how you felt. he knew you couldn’t stand his lifestyle, his choices that he’s made regrettably. but how else was he supposed to cope with the fact with the one person he’s allowed to steal his heart hates him. 

“ah, there you are,” a voice says from behind you two. you both turn around and you see your mom, hair curlers and full glam. 

“hi mama,” you smile, running up to her and giving her a big hug. 

“hi sweet pea,” your mama coos, swaying you both back and forth. you pull back and look behind you to see jeon smiling at the interaction. this made your heart jump for a split second before you returned back to your surroundings.

“ma, this is my boyfriend, jeon jungkook,” you smile. 

“oh my, you’re so handsome,” your mother gushes, rushing up to him and pulling him into a hug.

“thank you,” jungkook smiles, blushing slightly. you’ve never seen jeon blush before and to see him in a such a fragile state made you happy. and you couldn’t seem to figure out why. your mom finally released jeon from her clutches and she turned back to you. 

“hun, i’ve got a surprise for you. follow me,” she says, grabbing yours and jeon’s hands dragging you to what you assumed was the dressing room. there were two dresses that were covered hanging off of a clothing rack. your mom shoves you guys onto a couch and rushes over to the dresses.

“one of these beauties will be yours to wear for the wedding because… hon, will you be my maid of honor?” your mother asks, eyes full of stars that made your heart swell. you felt the air leave your lungs and your heart begin to race. you remember watching your mom struggle with love all her life, her face in a frown always. you’ve never seen your mom so happy now, and you would do anything just to see her happy. 

“ma, are you serious?” you ask, wanting to be sure this is what she really wanted. 

“of course baby,” she smiles. you jump up and hug her tightly, muttering a yes into her hair. you both squeal with delight, jumping in place like teenage girls. suddenly, another pair of arms are wrapped around you, chest pressed against your back. you managed to look up and see jungkook bouncing with you and your mom. 

“i wanted to join too,” jungkook says, his voice high pitched and filled with excitement which in response, made you giggle. you all finally stop bouncing and jungkook pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, catching you off guard. you felt your heart race and you swore his heartbeat matched yours. you brushed it off as it being the sudden activity you all had just endured.

“i’ll leave you two alone so you can try the dresses,” your mother says after she catches her breath, winking at you. 

“you’re just gonna let your daughter get undressed in front of her boyfriend alone?” you ask incredulously. 

“hon, he’s your boyfriend. i’m sure he’s seen more,” she giggles, exiting the room, leaving you with your jaw wide open. 

“can you believe this?” you ask, shocked at your mothers bold statement.

“i’ve always wondered where you get your vulgarity from,” jungkook teases, his chest causing a vibration that you felt in your back, reminding you of your close, read as nonexistent, proximity. you push yourself away and whip around to face him, catching a glimpse of him trying to fight the smile that tried its best to take place on his delicate features.

“i’m not vulgar and you’re not watching me change. however, i do need an opinion on the dresses, so i guess you can stay,” you say, walking past him to try on the dresses. you snatch both of them of the rack and head into the bathroom, changing into dress number one. 

at first you thought it was a joke, the frills and exotic colors making your eyes hurt from how loud it was. you tried it on anyway, and you couldn’t believe how ridiculous you looked. no way your mother was being serious when she picked this dress out. you unlocked the bathroom door and stopped your way to where jungkook was sitting on the couch, playing on his phone. you clear your throat to capture his attention and you nearly explode with the laughter with the way his eyes widen and face drops.

“what do you think?” you ask him, twirling around in the godforsaken dress you know your mother probably bought as a joke. 

“i think the longer you look at it, the worse it gets,” jungkook says, a dumbfounded look on his face. you withhold your laughter and stare at him in distaste.

“yeah like your face,” you scoff, playing with the dress as if you actually admired it. 

“are you gonna wear that?” he asks, secretly hoping you’d say no so he could release a breathe he didn’t know he was holding. 

“well, i like it, don’t you?” you say, continuing to pretend like you actually were considering wearing this deafening dress. 

“uh.. if you like it then… sure,” jungkook says, shifting in his seat. you admired the fact that he was trying to cater to your feelings and for some reason it made your heart race at the thought. you don’t know whats been going on with you lately but every kind gesture has made your heart race with excitement. you didn’t know when it happened, but you started looking at jungkook as more and it scared you. you couldn’t be with him. you knew that. jungkook had a reputation, and he was proud of it. he was proud of the amount of women he could pull in one night. hell, in one hour. he was used to the idea that feelings were a concept he wasn’t willing to understand or try out. and you had to accept that.

“i’m messing with you gukkie. my mom probably bought this as a gag, the real dress is still in its cover,” you say laughing at jungkooks face that was contorted into one of discomfort. you leave him to relish in your teasing as you retreat back to the bathroom to change into the actual dress. you could still hear jungkook laugh to himself as you unzipped the dress to change into the other one. little did you know, he was laughing to himself about the nickname you gave him. he’s never had a nickname he actually enjoyed before. he was still lost in the thought of you calling him gukkie forever when you finally exited the bathroom.

he always thought those scenes in cheesy rom-com teen films where the guy is staring at the girl like she’s the only one that matters was cliche. but he was wrong. so very wrong. watching you in the tight floor length pale yellow dress that just made you glow knocked all the air out of his lungs. you’re hair that was in a messy ponytail allowed some pieces of hair to frame your face as you continued to fumble with the dress.

“it’s a little longer than i thought, but it fits well, yeah?” you say, still looking down at the gown. you honestly felt ridiculous. you rarely dress up like this. you hid your body underneath baggy clothing so to have something so tightly pressed against your body made you severely insecure. the silence coming from jungkook made everything worse. you looked up to see jungkook leaning forward, elbows resting on his thighs, hands holding his head up. there was a look in his eye you had never seen before and it made your stomach churn with excitement.

“that bad huh?” you joke, hoping to ease some of the tension that was building in the room. jungkook stands to his feet and approaches you, his body so close to yours you could feel the heat radiating off of his body. 

“you look beautiful,” jungkook says, smiling down at you. you feel yourself blush and begin to fumble with your fingers, a nervous tic jungkook found absolutely adorable. jungkook was helplessly in love with you, this much he knew. from the way you laughed, to the way you rolled your eyes in his presence. he loved the way you gave yourself wholly to the ones you cared about, willing and able to do any and everything for the people you love. he loved the way you strived to work hard and how incredibly intelligent you were. and suddenly, his heart was full with all the love he was dying to give you, but know he never could. because you deserved much more than some player who was willing to sleep with anything with legs. but if he could at least pretend like the love between you two was real, even if for a short while, he’ll take it. as desperate as he was, he wanted to know what it felt like to have you love him back. even if he knew it was all pretend. 

“jungkook, i can’t thank you enough for doing this. i know you would rather be in some girls bed trying to figure out a way to sneak out without her noticing, but i’m glad you’re here… with me,” you smile, hands gripping his bicep’s to keep him close. his cologne was hypnotizing, causing you to pull him closer and closer.

“there’s no place i would rather be,” jungkook said honestly, placing his hands onto your waist, allowing you to lean in. 

“you don’t mean that,” you scoff, smiling and rolling your eyes, getting ready to pull yourself back from a dangerous territory. jungkook stops this from happening, wrapping his arm around you til your pressed flush against his body. 

“you have no idea how bad i want you. all of you. mind, body and soul. but for right now, for the sake of our friendship and the momentum its growing, i will take you in whatever way you will allow me to have,” jungkooks says, forehead pressed against yours as he wills himself to hold back from pressing his lips against yours and taking you on the small couch in the dressing room. the words jungkook spoke so honestly made you shake from it’s intensity. 

“jungkook i--” 

“how’d the dress fit?” you mother asks, barging into the room. you and jungkook scramble apart from one another, him taking seat on the couch and you standing in front of him. you mother misses the way you two seemed highly unfocused and nervous as she coos over how adorable you look in the right dress. 

“you need to finish getting your hair and makeup done, so scooch along so me and your beautiful boyfriend can get to know each other,” your mother says shoving you out of the room and directing you to where the other bridesmaids were getting their hair and makeup done. it wasn’t until you were sat in the chair that you realized.. your mother and jungkook were alone. oh boy. 

=

you never felt so girly in your life. your hair was curled and put up in a half up half down situation, your makeup light and barely noticeable, but enough to tell you were wearing it. this wasn’t you, you didn’t like wearing makeup mainly because at the end of the day you forget to take it off and causes acne. you were working part time and went to school full time so you always left your hair in a ponytail or a bun. this look was new for you and you were kind of excited yet nervous for jungkook’s reaction. 

you surprised yourself with the thought, not really caring about jungkook’s opinions before, but now it was all you could think of, and that scared you. you knew this was just a favor he was owing to you, but he was really going above and beyond and it warmed your heart. but you had to remind yourself that you were just friends, nothing more. hell, you were barely friends. had it not been for you incessant need to prove yourself to your mom, you two would’ve never even became cordial with one another. 

you brush these thoughts aside, trying to manifest positive vibes for such a joyous occasion. you leave the dressing room, filled with chatter, in search of jungkook who may be suffering your mother’s constant conversation. you return back to the room you first were in when you arrived, catching your mother exiting the room. 

“you didn’t scare him off, did you?” you tease, hugging your mom. 

“honey, you look beautiful!,” your mom gushes, taking in the sight of her daughter. you smile and thank her, happy that she was happy.

“is he still in there?” you ask, nodding towards the door she came out of. she giggled and placed her hands on your shoulder. 

“he is, and he is absolutely in love with you,” she smiles, causing you to furrow your eyebrows.

“what do you mean?” you ask, your heart starting to race. 

“the way he talks about you, the way his eyes gleam with love with the mere thought of you. hunny, this man is undoubtedly in love with you,” she smiles. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, there was no way that jeon jungkook, the university playboy, is in love with you. you two barely conversed without an argument taking place. you doubt he knew anything about you, despite you two running in the same circles. sure, you knew a lot about him, just because your friends talked about him a lot and it was hard not to listen to sometimes. 

“you’re crazy ma. you need to finish getting ready, the weddings going to start soon,” you laugh, trying to brush off the conversation. 

“jungkook is in there getting ready, one of robert’s groomsmen caught food poisoning so he’s gonna walk down the aisle with your cousin, sam,” she said, rushing off to get ready, leaving you no room to reply. this wasn’t what he signed up for and you felt bad, so you went into the room to check on him. you caught him standing in front of the vanity, trying to finish off his tie. you had seen jungkook dressed up before, but there was something different about this time. you felt something more for him, and honestly, you always have. but his reputation…

“looking sharp,” you smile, looking up at him. his eyes meet yours in the mirror and he smiles, and this time you see it. the love your mother was talking about.

“you look beautiful, as usual,” he says, his charm peeking through. you scoff at his comment, walking up to him. you seemed small compared to him, and it was kind of an odd sight for you. you leaned your head against his shoulder, just staring at him staring at you through the mirror. 

“something on your mind?” he asks, noticing how lost in thought you were. you focus in on him and the surroundings around you.

“my ma said something interesting earlier that’s got me thinking is all,” you say, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue much further. you didn’t want to make the air awkward or uncomfortable by trying to involve feelings, but a big part of you want to know how he feels from his own lips. 

“what did she say?” he asked, his nerves jumping. he didn’t say anything wrong did he? he tried to be as cordial and respectful as possible, wanting your mother to like him. if things were to happen in the future, he didn’t want to be on bad terms with your mother. 

“she said… she said that you love me?” you murmur, you heart caught in your throat now that the truth was out there and you can’t take it back. jungkook froze, caught off guard by your confession. he wanted to play it off like it wasn’t true, that your mother was delusional. but he knew the truth. and he knew that you also knew it too. he wanted you. he’s always wanted you. and now, he’s presented with the opportunity to have you in any way he wants and he can’t make the move to move forward.

“is it true?” you ask, trying to get a clear and concise answer. you’re not sure what’s going to happen, regardless of what his answer is, but the anxiety of not knowing is starting to kill you. you shouldn’t be forcing him to confess, but now that it was out there in the air, you couldn’t take it back. maybe you should tell him?

“if you’re not comfortable talking about it it’s o--”

“i love you,” he blurts, interrupting you. you pick your head up off of his shoulder and now you’re standing side by side, staring at him through the vanity mirror. you’re frozen, unsure of what to do now. you didn’t actually think he was going to say it. you thought your mother was pulling your leg. but she didn’t know that you two weren’t actually a couple and maybe that’s why you had hoped what she said was true. 

“did you hear me?” he asks, voice laced with nerves. he couldn’t even begin to explain the amount of fear and vulnerability he was feeling at the moment. he meant it. he loved you. but why should you believe him. he was a playboy, and though you may never understand his reasons as to why he tried so hard to escape you by sleeping with other people, he wanted nothing more for you to believe him now. 

“i did,” you whisper, afraid that the sound of your beating heart was louder than the words you spoke. you wanted him, god you wanted him, but you were scared that his words were from false bravado. a heat of the moment feeling that was fleeting. 

“i know you might not believe me, and you have every right not to. but i love you with my entire being and.. it’s scary,” he chuckles, trying to explain his emotions to the only person he’s ever been vulnerable with. 

“and like i told you earlier, for the sake of us finally gaining friendship, i will play it to your pace and whenever you’re ready, let me know. because i’ll be here,” he smiles. he turns to you, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss to your cheek before walking out of the room, leaving you confused as to what the hell just happened.

_______

an: part two? let me know :)

[neonponders]

*sigh* catch me projecting on a Saturday.

I read this post ( @lazybakerart you wizard - ALSO IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY?????? HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹) and am now thinking about a sugardaddy!Billy with an ace!Steve. (*emphasis on grey ace*)

* Please nobody attack me for writing about leather fashion. I’m vegetarian and it’s fiction. Live a little. *

Read on ao3 ~

🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹

Steve just kind of stared at the box on the restaurant table. It wasn’t a ring box, but it was velvet. Goodness knew how many of these he’d seen in his life.

Steve knew wealth. He knew money, and all of the material variations therein.

He’d gotten pedicures with his mother before his father declared such a thing unfit for a boy coming into puberty. If you look like a man, act like a man. As if men didn’t have feet, or something.

Then he went to the salon. That wasn’t so easy to take away. Ventures with her son seemed to be the only things keeping Mrs. Harrington from being connected to her husband’s hip, so Mr. Harrington let them both have this one. Steve, fresh out of graduation, being given a hairdresser’s chair to accomplish summer-fresh highlights.

Mrs. Harrington was also the type of woman to enjoy shoes. Everyone has a thing. For some, they had bags. Others, jewelry. Vintage furniture. Designer wallpaper. Mrs. Harrington enjoyed shoes. It was where Steve learned to carry a woman’s bags, but he didn’t stay outside of the store. He learned how to clean suede, the difference between a 130 So Kate and an ordinary heel. What fetish meant in terms of fashion. He can convert heels sizes in millimeters to inches faster than a cashier calculating change.

Tommy and Carol had joked about Steve’s father having a different kind of fetish. Nothing to do with fashion, and everything to do with sex. Steve had foolishly let them into his mother’s bedroom and they were having a field day with a shoe closet that cost more than both of their houses combined. Still smelling of Nancy and pool chlorine, Steve as good as ended that friendship right there.

Because they didn’t get it.

Mr. Harrington certainly didn’t get it. Could never have such a sexual inclination because he didn’t understand pampering or indulgent interests.

He understood favors. Material apologies.

Mrs. Harrington had a collection of pearls and diamonds that she never wore.

Steve knew she liked opals and pink, pink rubies, because Steve liked opals too. Because he used his father’s money to buy ruby studs his mother actually wore. Because he gets her oldest, broken bracelet with green amber fixed, and she wears it until it breaks again. And then she presented Steve with a thin, gold chain to go around his ankle. With a gleaming, green amber stone flanked by two opals.

The green goes with our eyes, she said. Someone special will see the green in all that brown. It’s why we look good in reds.

Steve was still looking at the box on the table.

“It’s not going to catch fire, the longer you glare at it.”

His dark hazel, creek water eyes slanted up to the man sitting opposite him.

Billy Hargrove.

Stubborn to a fault. Gorgeous as Lucifer with wings freshly burnt off. And just as dangerous.

“I thought I said no more gifts.”

“And I ignored you. Open it.”

Steve went about it like ripping off a bandaid. He sighed at the window beside their booth, wrenching the thing open to see -

Diamonds.

He shut it with a loud clap and set it on Billy’s placemat. “No, thanks.”

The man’s features froze in tolerant stoicism, but he eased the box inside his suit jacket pocket. “You’re a hard one to shop for.”

Steve’s eyes widened dramatically over his wine glass of water. Not because he was sober - he’d willingly pay for an overpriced red, himself, if the handsome asshole weren’t trying to wave his wallet everywhere. “You can stop trying to buy your way into my pants any time you want.”

“If that’s all I wanted, I would’ve stopped three months ago.”

Three months ago,

When Billy breezed into Steve’s life as easily as he had senior year of high school. The two of them certainly deserved some kind of award for having a bizarre history.

Within a handful of months, Billy had arrived upon a turbulent time in Steve’s life, and then left nearly as quickly. Billy witnessed Steve and Nancy’s break-up, Steve’s fall from Hawkins High grace, and even beat his face a little bit. Because that’s what teenage men with bad emotional processing and even worse communication skills do.

Now, almost ten years later, Billy had some kind of empire behind him and Steve, well, didn’t. He had no idea what Billy’s job consisted of, but he got little hints. Mostly the negative space from Billy’s lack of discussing his job told Steve a whole lot.

Steve, who worked two jobs and occasional gigs wherever he was needed. During one such time, while Steve managed the cables and sound boards for Robin’s band, Billy Hargrove sauntered up to him with just as much charm mixed with hauteur as he’d ever displayed.

It wasn’t like meeting an old friend, because they had never been more than acquaintances, and roughly ten years was enough time for a personality to evolve ten different ways.

Steve couldn’t say how much he and Billy had evolved, really, but there was a point in there somewhere.

Maybe it lived in the, “I never expected to see you in a dyke club, pretty boy,” since it was all the coming out either of them needed.

Or the wanton kisses and fervent hands underneath the neon rainbow on the venue’s wall.

Maybe the point sat in the things Billy wanted, and what Steve was reticent to provide. Because Billy was a king who knew what he liked, and seemed particularly talented at walking into Steve’s personal crises like an anniversary.

Steve craved.

But he didn’t know what he craved. What he yearned for. He knew Billy’s kisses made his brain go molten and fuzzy. He knew Billy’s smell brought him just as much comfort, excitement, and anxiety. He knew finally being outside of sex-crazed high school had deflated something in him. The expectations to perform. He knew losing Robin’s stupid game of You Rule / You Suck gave him a secret gift of relief.

But he still craved. He wanted touch but he wanted to be alone. He wanted companionship but he didn’t want sex. But he did enjoy sex, except he didn’t want the expectation of it.

Well.

That was it, wasn’t it?

Billy Hargrove, who could have anyone he wanted plastered to his stupid, unbuttoned chest, had sought out Steve. Steve, king of mixed signals, Harrington. It was only a matter of time before he got his face beaten again. For wasting Billy’s time. For refusing Billy’s advances even though Steve clearly enjoyed Billy’s lips on his neck, and Billy’s hand on his inner thigh. For wanting Billy’s company and flirtation without the rules that finished in the bedroom.

So Steve refused the gifts. The material favors he could’ve sold for a better apartment. Fucked his way to owning a house that his mom would feel comfortable visiting. Be an unfeeling toy who could pay for his mother’s shoes and his own pedicures.

“Steve?”

He turned away from the window and the city’s electric constellations. “Hm?”

“Where’d you go?”

The back of Steve’s throat ached. He looked down at their appetizer plates and decided, “I think I’m going home.” After a second of them both hearing it out loud, Steve said with more conviction, “I need to be home right now. I’m sorry. Thanks for dinner.”

He almost reached for his wallet to pay for his half of the artichoke dip, but reconsidered. He took his old prom tuxedo jacket off on the way to the elevator, waiting for the doors to close before he pressed his face into the old fibers.

It would be easier if Steve didn’t know money. If wealth were a foreign pillow he had never slept on; could be spoiled into never giving it up again.

Like a true mother with a sixth sense, Steve withdrew a package from his mailbox when he returned to his apartment building. Mrs. Harrington’s versions of care packages were fashion magazines, a subscription to The New Yorker, polaroids of her latest closet pieces, and Steve’s favorite candy.

He loved it all. He didn’t need laminated recipes, bags of rice, or resupplied hair products. He went up to his bedroom, stripped down to nothing, and fell into bed with the hefty parcel. Fruity hard candies fell out like confetti, and he stuck a green apple square inside his cheek while he looked through her baggie of polaroids.

Peach suede 130s. Steve felt a warm tickle in his belly at that. She only wore 130s if she was pissed at his father. A woman in 130s walked with the force of a storm, mostly because the damn things were nearly intolerable to wear without a platform.

Another pair of diamond earrings. One of these days, people were going to realize how boring clear rocks were.

Dark, amethyst Miu Mius with the heel and toe encrusted with pearls. Steve’s dad must’ve really pissed her off to warrant that apology.

The magazine subscription had piled up, so he had three New Yorkers to read, but he opened the tome of Vogue first. His mother dog-earred her favorite articles, scent samples, and spreads. She often favored the androgynous and male fragrances. Steve liked that a whole lot. He wasn’t sure if she did that for him because he liked them, or if he liked them because she did that.

He held the magazine to his face as he went to the kitchen, smelling the first fragrance sample while he reached for his cache of boxed cake mix. It was a funfetti kind of night. He rattled the package of sprinkles in his hand while reading about some summer collection where the runway happened in a Greek ampitheatre. Sounded fun. Sounded like a great vacation. Beach, wine, and then modern art fusing with ancient architecture.

Steve didn’t excel in chemistry, but he knew a different kind of magic.

Which didn’t actually include baking. The cake emerged a little dark, but he cut off the burnt top, iced it to glorious, sugar perfection, and took a slice to bed with him. He turned the parcel upside-down for the last of the candy to come out so he could throw the envelope away -

Two bottles of nail polish landed heavily on the bed. Steve lifted the darker bottle to see a purple so ebony he thought it was black until he opened it to see the paint up close.

Purple and peach. To match his mother’s shoes.

Not many people understood his parents’ methods of producing or avoiding affection. But Steve did. He shook up the poison violet and painted his toenails in between forkfuls of cake.

He didn’t hear from Billy the next day.

Or the next.

As bad as Steve felt, he couldn’t say he minded. Nor would he be surprised if Billy never called him again. The idea brought a lonely peace during the commute to work, reading his magazines on the train before keeping them safe in a folder that he stuffed inside his backpack. Even if Steve’s chest felt like a cold balloon, with its latex worn thin and tired, he had his little things to keep him warm.

Then a knock on his apartment door.

Steve answered it with a cheek full of cake, interrupted from making his grocery list of actual nutritional value - 

Billy had never visited before. Steve stared at him long enough for him to ask, “Are you going to let me in?”

Steve glanced at the box under his arm and turned into his apartment with a sigh. Billy closed the door behind him as he remarked, “You don’t know what’s in it yet.”

There wasn’t exactly anywhere for Steve to theatrically storm off to. His kitchen was also his living room, and a half-wall partitioned the bedroom off to the side. His apartment was one long rectangle, and Steve remained stuck in the middle of it.

“Billy, I don’t know what you want from me that you think you can get from expensive things.”

“I don’t recall asking for anything in return,” he drawled while removing his coat.

“Don’t take that off,” Steve retorted.

“I’m taking it off.”

“This isn’t going to be a long visit.”

“Would you at least open the damn thing first?” Billy presented the box on the flat of his hand like a waiter’s tray.

Steve knew a shoe box when he saw one. He swatted the lid off the box before he even meant to. He was so tired of this game. Of these rules. He doesn’t want to see some snotty designer sneaker that isn’t to his taste. Some item the rules would dictate he accept without complaint. Or some chunky, foamy plastic, glorified tennis shoe that is over hyped . . .

He sees the red first.

It’s not a sneaker.

Hot Chick heels. 100mm. Black suede on top, red bottom. The leather around the heel scallop-cut like minimalist flower petals.

Steve’s breath has stopped in his chest. The pad of his thumb moved across the soft, matte leather before he stops himself. He tries to look stern when he dares to peek up at Billy, but those water-turquoise eyes are steady on him, absorbing his every reaction.

“These don’t exist in suede.”

Because they didn’t. Hot Chicks came in patent leather only.

“They do now.”

“Louboutin sizes down.”

“Then we’ll have them stretched.”

Steve is losing. Billy knows he’s losing. Billy - he -

“How - ?” Steve begins but stops. He closed his eyes and swallowed, only to flinch a little when Billy grasped his chin, holding him in place as he leaned in to lick the corner of his mouth free of icing.

“Will you try them on for me?”

Steve feels a mixture of defeat mixed in with petulance and vulnerable glee as he warily takes the box to his humble couch. Billy looked at his bed, and then to the kitchen on the other side of the apartment. He strolled into it and lifted the knife for a slice.

Steve, meanwhile, took his time. He opened the paper from where it had floated back over the shoes. He lifted the box to inhale the leather. He took one shoe out just to...see it. Look at it. Read the number stamped on the red arch.

Steve had to remove his socks, revealing his lacquered toes as Billy sat next to him with a plate. He eased the coffee table out of the way, giving Steve room to wiggle his foot into the severe 100mm heel.

They were hardly glamorous under his old, cut-off sweats.

But.

He’d never actually seen his feet in heels before. Never bothered to try to find his size.

Billy handed him the other shoe, and stood up with a ready hand. Steve wiggled into it and accepted his hold as he stood up.

How do you walk in those? he’d once asked his mother.

Trust the heel, my love, she’d answered, strolling around her bedroom in her 130s. If you’ve paid enough for it, it better hold up your entire form, and your dating baggage.

Steve had laughed, but listened to her every word. Move like a wheel barrow. You pivot on your toes, like the wheel, and rest on the heels.

“I’ve got you,” Billy purred when Steve teetered. Just a little.

“Why did you get me these?” Steve had to ask while he began to ease his arm off of Billy’s shoulders.

“Might’ve had a look inside your mail,” he admitted shamelessly. “I thought you might’ve ordered something and I could finally see what you liked. Instead, it’s the one thing I’ve seen you accept.”

“You’re a creep,” Steve declared, but he couldn’t look away from his feet as he strolled around the coffee table.

Billy laughed and sat down to his cake. “This is good.”

“It’s from a box.”

“It’s still good.”

Things . . . changed, after that. Billy came over just to come over. And he pestered Steve with endless questions.

“Do you like these?” he asked with his nose against the magazine pages.

Steve towered over him in his heels, but he’d wash dishes in whatever he wanted, thanks very much. And leather needed to be worn, as his mother taught him. Plastic is trash. If it comes from a living creature, it lives on a creature.

Steve snorted beside him. “My mom crimps those pages.”

“But do you like them?”

“They’re fun in magazines, but perfumes were never really my thing.”

“What is your thing?”

“Right now? You, elbows deep in here.”

Billy perked right out of the magazine only to lock onto the sink. “Because you’re having trouble reaching it now?”

Steve meant to have a witty come-back, but he got caught up in his own giggles. “Yeah.”

Then,

“Can I stay the night?”

Something must have flashed across his face, because Billy added, “Not for sex. I’ve taken the hint, all right?”

Steve slowly unfolded his socks where he sat on the foot of the bed. “Why do you want to?”

Billy wiped his hands on the dish towel and padded across the room to sit beside him. “Because I want to taste you before I sleep. And I wanna taste you when I wake up. I want your snark in my ears all the time - ”

“All the time?” Steve repeated, deadpan.

“Yeah, all the time. I can’t believe it either.”

Billy’s features were warm, unbelievably warm as he watched Steve laugh. “Of course I want to have sex with you. But I miss you when... I miss you all the time. It’s embarrassing.”

Steve rolled his eyes onto him, to which Billy defended, “I have things to do.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re the big man in town,” Steve babied, pushing his chest so he toppled backward.

“I am, actually,” he crooned, his hands finding Steve’s legs easily when he straddled him. “I’d work better with you on my desk.”

“My hairy legs and scraped up heels?” Steve threatened breathily, holding Billy’s cheek and jaw in one hand while he leaned over him so all Billy could see was Steve.

“All of it,” he exhaled, and pulled Steve’s head the last inch for a kiss.

Billy’s next gift was a pair of slippers. Plush, soft, and perfect after an afternoon in 100s.

Then he gave Steve a massage. Steve could accept those with ease. The balls of his feet hurt and even blushed a faint indigo from being so unused to heels. The warm attention of Billy’s hands on the arches of his feet, heels, and ankles; as well as the cold tennis balls he stored in Steve’s freezer to roll along his feet.

By then, he’d seen Steve’s anklet. So the next shoe box Steve opened were dark green suede, as poisonously dark as his mother’s violet heels. The toe was bare, but the heel was encrusted with opals. The milky stones flashed green and orange as Steve walked in the 120mm heel.

“How do they feel?”

Steve, with far more mastery over heels now, pivoted on his toes and planted one on the couch in between Billy’s thighs. His warm hand cradled Steve’s ankle immediately.

“What if I shaved for these?”

“Then I’d never take my hands off you.”

“So nothing would change,” Steve giggled, teasing gone as he landed on Billy’s lap. The man underneath him hummed his mirth into Steve’s mouth, his other hand burying in Steve’s hair while he let Steve control the kiss, explore his mouth.

“I thought they’d go with your eyes,” he said when the kiss petered off and Steve kissed his nose. Billy touched the pad of his thumb high on Steve’s cheek. “There’s a little bit of green there.”

Steve let Billy fuck him in those shoes.

Because he finally craved all the way, beyond fear of rules. Beyond the existence of toys. He craved Billy deeper than skin, and Billy gave it to him.

And when Billy got him a pair of 130s . . . blood red and spiked with tiny, crimson points, he let Steve fuck him.

[robininthelabyrinth]

If you’re still taking prompts, how about an AU where Wei Wuxian is also one of Jin Guangshan’s illegitimate sons

Wei Wuxian’s life might have been different if his mother had gone onwards to visit the Jiang sect, following a glimpse of that handsome young man she’d met so briefly early on, but in the end she’d decided to go a different way – she ended up in Yunmeng after all, but that young man, a servant, had already gotten another woman to be his wife and Cangse Sanren was nobody’s mistress.

She’d made that clear once already.

The Jiang sect leader’s wife liked her on the spot – “Madame Jin conveys her thanks to you for putting her husband in her place, although regretfully that the doctors say his vital root will eventually recover from your well-placed kicks” – and the sect leader liked her, too; she made him laugh, and he liked the child she’d brought with her, a baby as vivacious as she was.  

She stayed there a few years, until the sect leader stopped merely looking a little too long and started looking at her instead of looking at his wife. That was unacceptable: it was clear that she wouldn’t be able to stay much longer without tearing them apart. Still, she wasn’t one to leave without making an impact: she took both the sect leader and his wife to bed for a tumble that lasted a week, and left while they were still stunned speechless.

Her only regret was how her little A-Ying cried for his shijie and his Jiang Cheng, who he’d grown close to, but she told him that he’d see them again one day and soon enough he found his smile again.

That was her baby boy, forgetting pain once it’d healed - just like her.

She refused to give his name to her precious son, but she was reluctant to give her own, having learned to her sorrow that this world of men was unkind to women and even less kind to the fatherless. In the end, she kept the courtesy name the Jiang sect leader had given him and stolen the surname of the handsome man who’d once offered it to her – she rather liked the idea of stealing someone’s name because of a rashly made promise. 

As she’d expected, it made it easier to pretend she was a widow rather than a silly girl who’d been deceived; an irritating pretense, but a necessary one, in this ridiculous world of men.

And so her A-Ying became Wei Wuxian.

She traveled around, aimless, knowing there was something out there for her to do but not entirely sure what, and it gnawed at her right up until the day her little Wei Wuxian ran over to her, shouting, “A-niang! A-niang! I found a brother!”

She’d assumed he was joking – he often tried to play tricks on her, and she played tricks on him right back – but in fact he wasn’t: little Meng Yao, a few years older than her son, had just enough of the same features to make the blood connection obvious.

Cangse Sanren sighed for the stupidity of her past self – so many good suitors, and she’d just had to pick the worst of the lot, hadn’t she? – and crouched down with a smile. 

“Where do you live?” she asked. “Where’s your mother?”

Meng Yao refused to tell her at first, no matter how many sweets and toys she plied him with. She didn’t want to embarrass him by following him home, so she rented a small house and waited; in the end, Wei Wuxian tried to beat up a passing boy for calling Meng Yao the son of a whore and Meng Yao had only been able to stop him by confessing that it was true.

“Well, that won’t do,” Cangse Sanren said, feeling rather cross about the whole thing. “Come on, lead me to her, or else I’ll go around knocking at every brothel in town asking for a girl surnamed ‘Meng’.”

Meng Shi was pretty as a peony and graceful as an orchid, and upon meeting her for the first time Cangse Sanren, who was quite used to beauties, blurted out, “He’s not only a dog but a fool.”

Sadly, Meng Shi preferred men, disappointing previous experiences or no, but she was nevertheless amenable to Cangse Sanren’s proposal of living together – night-hunting being more than profitable enough to buy Meng Shi’s life contract from the brothel within a few months – if it meant that Meng Yao would have the chance to learn to cultivate at the foot of a proper master.

In that way, Cangse Sanren got herself a friend and Wei Wuxian a brother, and felt quite pleased with it.

“We don’t need him,” she declared, full of wine and good company, arm around Meng Shi’s shoulders as the other woman rolled her eyes at her. “A-Yao, forget everything you’ve ever heard about him – he’s a waste of space, a wretch, a dog! Like a purebred horse, he’s fit only for breeding, which means your mother and I got the best part of him already.”

Meng Yao covered his eyes and groaned dramatically, and then went back to arguing with Wei Wuxian as to which one of them deserved to be called gege; Meng Yao took the position that he was older, with Wei Wuxian arguing that he’d become a disciple first.

Not that two small children who were also brothers made for much of a sect.

The thought caught something in Cangse Sanren’s brain, and the next morning she grinned at Meng Shi and said, full of mischief, “I wonder how many others there are out there.”

“No,” Meng Shi said firmly. “Night-hunting alone is dangerous enough, and barely enough to pay for our expenses –”

“It’d stretch a bit further if Mistress Meng were a little less accustomed to silk!”

“– and anyway who even knows how many there might be?”

“There can’t be that many,” Cangse Sanren said. “For all that he’s a scum, he’s also lazy – look at both our boys trying to get up in the morning –”

“Your boy can’t get up in the morning,” Meng Shi said. “Mine likes to have some time to himself. There’s a difference. Also, you can’t blame everything you dislike on him when it’s obviously a trait inherited from you.”

“Can’t I? I think I can. Anyway, as I was saying, he’s lazy: he stayed with me nearly two years and would have stayed longer if I hadn’t cottoned onto him, and you nearly four; and of course he doesn’t have any at home for fear of his wife…no, I’m telling you, a dozen at most.”

“You’re only counting the women he supported,” Meng Shi pointed out. “What about the ones that only happened once, or the married wives?”

Cangse Sanren dismissed these issues with a wave of her hand. “Let’s start with the ones like us. There’s got to be some other young would-be cultivators out there.”

There were, although little Mo Xuanyu, their next find, had been so terrified and tormented by all his relatives until he’d had the personality of a bowl of quivering steamed pudding – he wouldn’t make for much of a cultivator, Cangse Sanren divined at once, but even Meng Shi had to admit that taking him with them was better than leaving him back in the Mo household. 

His own mother had sold him to them for a gold coin, calling him a disappointment as she did, and Cangse Sanren had muttered for the next shichen about some people deserving the scum they hooked up with until Meng Shi started making sad noises just to make her shut up.

Damn that woman was good.

The next few they found were quite happy at home – it seemed that Jin Guangshan threw girls more often than boys, and that girls were able to live quite well on the promise of their children having a cultivator grandfather, so they didn’t need much help – and Cangse Sanren had just given up on bothering to find any more, three children with three very different personalities being rather a lot to deal with on top of night-hunting and keeping Meng Shi in her silks, when the Jiang sect finally caught up with her.

Apparently they’d been looking. Who’d have guessed?

“You had that and turned it down?!” Meng Shi hissed, her eyes full of the (admittedly rather handsome) Jiang Sect leader. “What is wrong with you?”

“Many things, probably,” Cangse Sanren admitted, and under the circumstances let herself be seduced back to Yunmeng with the promise of free housing, childcare, and all expenses paid, plus Wei Wuxian screaming “Shijie! Jiang Cheng!” at the top of his lungs at the first sight of a lotus flower sigil.

They’d stayed first at the Lotus Pier, but in the end got their own house: they’d gotten used to it the past few years, and anyway living with a friend was better than living with a lover - fighting over mundane things like laundry and did-you-remember-to-dust-behind-the-shelf was a lot easier when you didn’t have to think about being sexy at some future date.

Meng Shi never did get the hang of having a real job, teaching music and flirting to all the local children in equal measure, and perhaps most importantly she watched the children whenever Cangse Sanren went out night-hunting along with the Jiangs – along with the other things she did with the two of them while they were temporarily unburdened by the presence of nearly a dozen small, prying eyes.

At first Cangse Sanren was concerned about a repeat of last time, but it turned out Meng Shi was good for that, too; Madame Yu wasn’t as bothered about her husband sharing a bed with the witty, charming, pretty-as-a-flower Meng Shi when it meant she got to have Cangse Sanren to herself in her own.

As life went, it was pretty good, Cangse Sanren was willing to admit, especially when the discussion conference came around and she was finally able to rid Meng Shi of her remaining illusions. It was a good life, a happy life, and it was something she’d forged with her own two hands; she was very pleased about it.

Meng Yao never quite stopped wearing a smiling face that hid daggers, but it was a little easier to forgive his vindictive viciousness once he’d started doing it to defend his younger brothers as well as himself – it was good for him to spend time with Jiang Yanli, whose friendliness and innate goodness routinely caused him to question everything he thought he knew about human nature. 

They played a great deal of chess, which Jiang Yanli routinely lost with a smile, and in return he reminded her that she was still at the age to be adopted, not do the adopting herself – which she sometimes forgot.

Wei Wuxian finally agreed to Meng Yao’s seniority now that he had both Mo Xuanyu and Jiang Cheng to bully and lead around by the nose; he remained as high-spirited and vivacious as he’d ever been, but – and it was probably for the best – his reckless arrogance was tempered by constantly being outsmarted in the first instance by a well-prepared Meng Yao.

Mo Xuanyu, the family baby, spent a great deal of time clinging to Jiang Cheng; no one entirely understood why or how their quiet, shy wallflower had gotten attached to someone so abrasive and easily angered, but somehow Jiang Cheng routinely cursing him as an idiot and a useless good-for-nothing did more to wash away the scars left over from the Mo household than anything else anyone had ever done.

It was – good.

So when the Wens came to tear it all down, well.

None of them were going to put up with that.

[sinner-as-saint]

Cherries And Wine.

Sugar Baby!Seb x CEO!Reader

Requested.

Run-through: You meet a handsome young man at a bar, and together you embark on a somewhat unusual but exciting journey.

Themes: smut, fluff, sugarbaby!seb, age gap

“We don’t have to do anything too… risqué, if you’re not comfortable with it.” You said with a soft smile, then proceeded to sip on your red wine.

Sebastian smirked, setting his glass of cherry liqueur down and leaned back in his seat. “And what if I am absolutely comfortable with that?” he asked, his hands itching to touch you already.

You chuckled, “Well, you can have anything you want.”

You had met Sebastian in this very bar a few nights ago. He was shamelessly flirting with you, despite the age gap. So you exchanged numbers and texted for a few days, then decided to meet up again tonight. He was younger, and freshly out of university and currently job hunting. And you were financially stable, owner of your flourishing company and somewhat in need of a companion – but nothing too serious.

So you and Sebastian made an agreement; whereby you would take care of all his needs in exchange for his company.

-

Sebastian was quite interesting. Playful and sarcastic, but also sweet. And just after the first week together, you found out that you loved spending time with him. With him, and all his terrible jokes; you forgot all about work and the stressful days you had.

You paid off his student loans and got him his dream car within the next few weeks and he wouldn’t stop thanking you.

“Hey,” you cupped his face gently and stepped in between his legs as he sat on the edge of your desk in your office. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist. “That’s what I’m here for. To take care of you.” You explained, again, and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

When you pulled away to look at him again, he gave you the biggest smile ever and pulled you in for a hug. He pushed his face into the crook of your neck and mumbled a ‘thank you’ again. You slid your hand into his hair and kissed the side of his head.

“Anything else you want?” you asked softly, just as you had the habit of asking him all the time.

Sebastian pulled away and smiled, “You.” he answered and leaned in for a kiss immediately. You kissed him back. He tightened his grip around you and pulled you closer. You giggled through the kiss. He deepened the kiss and bit your lip.

You pulled away after a while and saw the hunger in his eyes. “Well you’re gonna have to wait. I have a meeting in a few minutes.” You spoke, running your fingers through his hair.

He sulked and groaned.

“Fine. I’ll see you at home.” He gave you another kiss and reluctantly walked out of your office. And you smiled as you watched him leave.

 You had offered to get him his own place the moment you found out that he had been living on a friend’s couch since he was out of uni, but he refused saying it was too much. Then you told him that he was welcome to use your guest bedroom. And he agreed immediately, and you two have been living together ever since.

He was quite an amazing roommate. Fun, and energetic and his smile and laughter was contagious. He made your days much livelier and better. He would always start out by sleeping in his own room, then each night, he would quietly walk into your room and slip under the covers; snuggling up to you. And you would always wake up in his arms.

It was comforting.

-

Sebastian soon began acting like spoilt brat. Not in a bad way, and definitely not just because of the money and all the nice things you bought him all the time – but he began getting insatiable with no matter how much attention he got. He was greedy regarding your attention, he wanted it all the time.

He didn’t care that you had a job; several branches of your company and so many employees to handle. He just wanted all your attention on him at all times, and he acted up when he didn’t get that.

 “Why won’t you talk to me?” he mumbled under his breath, sat next to you on the couch in your living room.

You were furiously typing an email because one of your workers had messed up something pretty bad and you had to fix it as soon as possible because you hated when things didn’t go your way. You were somewhat upset over the silly mistake of your silly employee, and on top of that Sebastian was being bratty since this morning. Whining and complaining about everything even when he had everything one can ever want. Part of it was your own fault, you had been spoiling him too much lately.

You heard him, but you were so engrossed in work that you forgot to reply to him. So he sighed dramatically, loudly. “Pay attention to me!” he whined again, inching closer to you.

“Hmm, what is it?” you spoke, sounding uninterested without even looking his way.

Unable to deal with the lack of attention, he leaned in and kissed your neck softly. He knew damn well it was your weakness, and you could never resist it. Sebastian smirked when he saw you stopped typing for a moment, but then resumed once you recovered from his unexpected soft touch.

“I want you.” he mumbled against your skin, moving your hair aside and kissed down the side of your throat, clearly preventing you from focusing on work.

“Baby,” you sighed softly, “I’m working right now, okay?” you kept your eyes on the screen in front of you, trying to finish this email as soon as possible because you had a hundred other things to do.

“So?” he sounded like he cared very little about the serious work you were doing. “I don’t care. I want you.” he said again, sucking and nibbling on your skin. And he didn’t miss the soft gasp which left your lips. He smirked when he heard it. “Now.” he added.

You sighed again as you felt him shamelessly slipping his hand under your sweater and toying with your breasts. He chuckled when he saw that you had stopped typing entirely. You couldn’t focus on work, not when he was acting like this.

“What do you want?” you sounded both tired and annoyed.

He frowned. “Hey, don’t use that voice on me.” He whispered against your skin and gently bit on the skin along your jaw. You closed your eyes and melted at his touch. It was really hard to resist him, especially now that he knew your body like the back of his hand, and he knew all your weaknesses.

“Sebastian…” you wanted it to sound like a warning but his name ended up sounding like a soft moan escaping your lips. He smirked again. “I have work to do, baby.” you tried escaping him and his needs but he wasn’t giving up.

“I don’t care. It’s your job to take care of me and my needs. And right now, all I want is you.” he kissed along your jaw up to your ear where he whispered again, “I need you.”

And that was it, you melted and gave in.

 Sebastian could be addicting. From his bubbly personality, witty jokes and comments to the way he let you take control in bed. Always obeying, and listening attentively to all that you had to say to him. He liked having you on top, he didn’t mind it. He liked how you playfully tortured him in bed, until he was a whimpering mess; begging for you to touch him and do what you will with him.

He liked how you would lean in to kiss him or look him deep in his eyes while you sank down on his cock and gently rocked your hips against his. You moved against him perfectly, your walls gripping him tightly and making him get louder and louder each time.

He liked how you put his needs first. Almost always – but not before teasing him. You often messed with him, you would slow down your pace whenever he got too excited, and you would speed up when he least expected it until he was nothing but a sweaty, moaning mess under you; messy hair, swollen lips, and a throbbing cock.

“You look gorgeous, baby…” you’d whisper in his ear as you teased him, making him whine and beg for you. He groaned at the sound of your sultry voice and he’d almost squirm under you. You giggled at his reaction and finally give him what he needs. What you both need. You fucked him good; making him cum in no time.

Your walls clenched around him; gripping him and milking him perfectly as you rode his sensitive, throbbing cock as he came – with you coming undone right after him. His heart raced, he breathed hard and fast as you fell limp on top of him. You kissed his chest, “You did so good, baby.” you murmured and he wrapped his arms around you immediately. Nodding at your words, but unable to speak as he gasped still.

-

Sebastian was just as addicted to you as you were to him. He liked being around you, you spoilt him – a lot. But also, he found himself liking you more than he intended to. He began caring a lot more, and also began getting more and more jealous whenever he caught you checking someone else out.

 “Why are you staring at him?” he asked once, while you two were out for date night at a really fancy place. Sebastian noticed you often looking over at the bar, and he followed your line of sight to find a handsome man at the bar, around his own age.

And he got jealous, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it.

You were surprised at the tone he used, but then felt ashamed after being caught. “I’m not,” you looked down at the menu and wine list, “It’s nothing.” You said.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh yeah? Why are you checking him out then?” he sounded jealous and you couldn’t help but smirk a little.

“I’m not. I’m just looking, I’m allowed to look at other people, aren’t I?” You clarified with a teasing smile and he frowned.

You thought he would drop it. But he didn’t. The minute you got home and into your bedroom, he followed you and pushed you against the wall. He stepped closer and you looked up at him to find that he wasn’t as playful as always. He looked irritated as he had you trapped between his muscular body and the wall.

“Hey, what-“

He cut you off.

“I don’t want you looking at other boys. You have me, you don’t need anything else. Or am I not enough?” he sounded both sad and pissed off.

You reached up and caressed his cheek gently. “Oh baby, you are enough. I don’t want anyone else.” You reassured him.

He smirked. “Good. Because you’re mine. And I’m not sharing.” He leaned in to press his lips to yours. Sebastian kissed you feverishly, passionately – as always, yet there was something different this time. Almost like he was showing you that you truly didn’t need anyone else.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you away from the wall. He walked the two of you to the couch. He would usually prefer the bed, but right now he was impatient and the couch was closer so he gently pushed you down on it and immediately got on his knees in front of you.

He locked his gaze with yours as he spread your legs apart slowly and slipped his hand under your dress. He dragged your underwear down your legs in no time. He pushed you down more, until you were lying on the couch with him in between your legs.

He lifted your dress up until it bunched around your waist and he proceeded to leave a trail of kisses along your thigh and inner thighs till he reached your dripping core. He looked up at you again as he kissed you right above your clit.

“You’re mine.” he whispered strictly, his warm breath hitting your damp core making you shiver. Your lips parted as you gasped when his tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit and licked down, parting your wet folds with ease.

He maintained eye contact as he touched you, tasted you, so intimately. Letting it be known that he was in charge this time. Usually you were the one in control in the bedroom, but not right now. Right now he intended to prove to you that you belonged to him and that you didn’t need anyone else.

Sebastian’s ocean blue eyes watched you in awe and how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His arms wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you; making you whine. Your wetness and his spit drenched the lower half of his face. But he didn’t seem to mind it. His sole purpose was to make you come undone all over his tongue, and show you how good he could be to you.

Sebastian liked watching you whine and whimper under him; with your warm thighs wrapped around his head. Your taste drove him wild, so did your soft whimpers. Your hand flew to his hair and you tugged on it gently as he flicked his tongue over your clit over and over again. You threw your head back, moaning as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue.

It didn’t take much for you to come undone all over his tongue. With a few more agonizing but pleasurable stroked of his tongue, you came, gushing out on his tongue and he lapped up all that you gave him. He liked the sight of you moaning and whimpering wantonly above him, it gave him a surge of power

And driven by that same, newfound power he climbed on top of you, kissing you again and whispering all that he wants to do to you right in your ear. His words were sinful, and erotic and it only helped in adding to the wetness which was accumulating at your core. His words alone made you whimper and bit your lip.

And just like that, he took over you and your senses. He loved the control he had in the moment. Your hand reached in between the two of you to unbuckle his belt and lower his underwear again because you just needed him. You were eager. But he playfully smacked your hand and grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them down on the couch above your head.

The glare he gave you told you to keep your hands there. Your breathing quickened as your heart raced in anticipation. Sebastian wasted no time in undoing his pants, lowering his underwear and reaching down to stroke his cock, rubbing it all over your dripping core in the process.

You squirmed and moaned when he did so; the tip of his cock rubbing up and down your wet lips, parting them as he circled your clit gently. You shuddered under him; whining in need and the wet sounds. You were weak and needy already.

Sebastian smirked. “No one else is gonna fuck you better than I can, you hear me?” he spoke, gently guiding his cock over to your entrance and gently pushing inside you. He inserted his length entirely into you and shamelessly moaned right in your ear at how good you felt, wrapped around him.

Once you adjusted to his size, he sped up against you; rocking his hips against yours and his hand reached up to wrap around your throat gently. He stared into your eyes, speeding up again. “You’re mine.” He repeated, and leaned in to kiss your open mouth, shamelessly shoving his tongue past your parted lips and stroking the inside of your mouth.

You moaned again as he bit and licked the skin beneath your jaw, all while slamming into you relentlessly; stretching you out and pounding into you like his life depended on it. Sebastian was relentless, you felt a familiar pressure forming around your lower region. He quickened his pace and pounded into you harder than before, your legs trembled as you wrapped them around his waist.

“Fuck… you feel so good. This is where you belong, here with me…” his voice cracked as he whispered in your ear. He somehow sounded needy but in control at the same time, and it made you tremble under him. You felt your walls clench around him, and tightening around his thick member; making him swear out loud. With his words it felt like your roles were reversed, and you were fine with it. You like it when he was a little rough with you.

“Come on, cum for me...” he panted against your cheek, gripping your jaw with his hand. He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, he kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out his name as you came – hard.

Sebastian came right after you, groaning and panting as well. “Don’t you dare look at another man.” He mumbled, clearly still grumpy. You giggled at his words and wrapped your arms around him as he carelessly laid on top of you.

“I won’t.”

-

Time went by, and the two of you only got closer and closer. With the help of some of your close friends, you managed to get Sebastian his dream job and everything was going smoothly. Somehow, even without talking about it, you both knew that sooner or later, your ‘agreement’ would morph into something more solid. And neither one of you minded that in the least.

You decided to just let time do its thing.

Sebastian liked having you around more than anything. You made him feel warm and special and he bloody loved it. As for you, Sebastian felt like he was all that you were missing in life. He was good to you. 

[guardianofrivendell]

Knight in Shining Armor

Fíli x fem!reader

Requested: Nope. I had this idea this morning and I felt the need to write it down. I didn’t proofread so it’s probably full of mistakes since I kind of wrote this while I was frustrated about something my partner said to me. I’ll revise it soon.

Warnings: angry Fíli, some f-bombs

A/N: I don’t think they have ice scream in Erebor or Laketown but I couldn’t think of a decent alternative. So let’s say they have that :) 

The fight was long, since neither of you wanted to give in. You and Edvard, the person you thought was your one true love were screaming at each other, despite your throat being sore and hoarse from all the previous crying. 

It all started pretty innocent really, you were only upset because he wanted to go to the pub. His friends were throwing a party for whatever reason, but you knew he would just be getting drunk again. And drunk Edvard was someone who had no boundaries left and to be honest, you were afraid of him. So you wanted to stay home. You asked him polite at first, but when he refused, saying you couldn’t tell him what he should or shouldn’t do, you made him choose between you and the party. You told him if he left he shouldn’t bother to come back. You lost. 

He slammed the front door on his way out, leaving you alone. Your knees finally giving in, you crashed down on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. 

When you tried to pull yourself together after a couple of minutes, your face was covered in tears and snot. You didn’t really care what you looked like at this point. It’s not like you had to look good for anyone. Not anymore. That thought was enough to get the waterworks going again. 

 The sound of the door slamming and his angry face kept playing in front of your eyes for a while. Everything was quiet. Too quiet.

Until you heard a loud knock on your door. 

You really didn’t want to see anyone right now. With a sigh you got up from the floor and sauntered to the front window, your curiosity getting the upper hand.

You sighed when you saw who it was, slapping a hand over your mouth to suppress the loud sob that was trying to escape. Of course he would come right now.

Fíli. Your childhood best friend and heir to the throne of Erebor. Not that his title mattered to you. To you he was just Fíli, the boy who took you on adventures when you were little, the only one who could make you laugh so hard you snorted, to comfort you when you were scared and the one to whom you could pour your heart out. 

But most of all he was the one who’s heart would never be yours…  If you didn’t answer the door, he would just keep knocking until you did. He’d never liked Edvard and he would be worried if you didn’t open up. 

Fíli always worried about you. You two used to joke around saying you should just marry each other one day, usually after one of you went through some heartbreak.

He didn’t know that deep down you actually kind of meant it…

 He knocked again, a little harder this time and he called your name, pulling you out of your thoughts. You had to answer or he was going to break down the door. 

“H-hey Fíli! What’s up?” You cringed at how fake it sounded, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Edvard is going to a party tonight without you? What happened?” he asked, stepping inside.

“W-what? What are you talking ab- how do you know?” 

He turned around, and smiled at you.

“I was there with Kíli and Dwalin, when he entered the pub. When I noticed you weren’t with him, I came here to make sure you were alright.”

“I hope he has a good time without me…” Your voice cracked and of course Fíli noticed.

“Y/N, are you ok?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. 

“I’m fine, Fí. Don’t worry.”

A silence fell. Your bottom lip started trembling again and you sniffed.  “But can… Can you please stay with me, keep me some company?” you whisper, giving up your facade. He would help make everything better.

“Of course. I’ll stay as long as you want. I got you, Y/N,” he said, giving you a hug. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling again. Fíli didn’t know what happened and yet he managed to do exactly the things you needed. He rubbed your back for a while before he let go of you.

“I just have to get a few things first, okay?”

You nodded and wiped your tears away.

While you were waiting for Fíli to get back, you couldn’t help thinking about Edvard and you were snotty and teary all over again. He had no problem leaving you.

Did you ever mean anything to him? Did he even love you at all? Were you even worth loving?

*

A knock at the door. You shuffled towards it, covered in your blanket.  You were greeted by Fíli holding up a small bag.

“Sorry it took me so long!” he said, hugging you again and unloading the bag onto your kitchen table. He brought you cake, ice cream and a whole bunch of different desserts and sweet treats. He truly was a life saver. 

“I couldn’t remember what kind of sweets you liked so I just got them all!” he laughed nervously. 

 You smiled. A genuine smile this time. Something about Fíli was so comforting, you couldn’t put your finger on it. You knew you did the right thing asking him to stay. 

“When in doubt always go for ice cream,” you managed to laugh.

“Now, where is your ice cream scoop?” he asked, looking around your kitchen. 

“Bold of you to assume I have an ice cream scoop. Everyone knows you eat ice cream straight out the container when you’re sad,” you smiled sadly. You grabbed the ice cream and let yourself drop down onto your couch. 

“Smart,” he opens a cupboard, grabbed two spoons and the bag of sweets and joined you. “Why bother with cleaning all the extra stuff when you can just clean spoons?”

You unwrapped the blanket and placed it over you and Fíli. 

“Thank you for making time for me,” you said, absentmindedly digging into the ice cream with your spoon. 

“Of course Y/N, I could be all the way up the Blue Mountains and I’d still help you if you’re sad. It wouldn’t involve ice cream, but I would figure something out.”

 You sat in comfortable silence for a while, his arm around your shoulders and your legs thrown over his, before you spoke between mouthfuls of sweets and ice cream.

“Shouldn’t you go back to Kíli and Dwalin though? They’re probably wondering where you are?”

He shook his head, before licking his fingers clean. The ice cream was starting to melt and he was always a messy eater to begin with.

“Before I picked up all of this, I went back to the pub and let them know I was going to stay with you. They know, don’t worry.”

“D-did you see Edvard again?”

“Nah,” he answered.

Another knock on your door made your heart stop. Was Edvard back? Did he realize his mistake?

“Fíli? Y/N? Are you there?”

You heard Kíli’s voice at the other side of the door calling out for you.

No Edvard, you thought, and your shoulders slumped. Fíli noticed but decided not to say anything about it.

“Yes, we’re in here. You can come in, Kíli.”

The door opened and Kíli and Dwalin stepped into your living room. Their concerned expressions went unnoticed by you, your full attention on the last bit of ice cream.

“Everything alright?” Fíli asked his brother. He knew they wouldn’t leave the pub so early unless something was wrong.

“We- uhm… We saw Edvard back in the pub,” Kíli started, his eyes fixed on you.

“Don’t worry, Kíli, I know he’s there. Fíli already told me.”

The two brothers looked at each other, and it seemed like they were having a silent conversation. Dwalin stood aside, his fists clenched, obviously angry. But then again, when was Dwalin not angry about something? You didn’t think it was important.

“Oh… okay,” Kíli said, and he hesitated before he continued. “Did- did something happen between you two?”

This got Fíli’s attention, and he looked at you questioningly. He knew something had happened to make you this upset, but he wanted to wait until you were comfortable enough to bring it up yourself. If his brother had noticed, then it had to be something really bad.

“We… He…” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “We broke up.”

“Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry,” Fíli said, hugging you. He was secretly relieved Edvard was out of your life now, but he knew better than to say it out loud.

He turned to his brother, who still stood awkwardly at the door. Kíli exchanged a look with Dwalin, who nodded his head towards you.

“What are you not telling us?” Fíli asked them.

Kíli sighed. “We noticed he was celebrating something, he kept shouting things. About… About Y/N.”

You felt their eyes on you and you tried to keep yourself together. You really did.

They noticed you shifting uncomfortably and your lip started to tremble again, no matter how hard you tried to stop it.

You saw Fíli clenching his jaw.

“What the fuck did he say about her?” he hissed between his teeth, getting to his feet.

He was angry. You had never seen him like this before. 

It was kind of… hot? No. Stop that, Y/N. Fíli is your friend. 

As Kíli and Dwalin told him what Edvard had been saying – something about being freed of his ball and chain, that you were just a toy he got sick of and threw away, he got even angrier. He was practically fuming when he yanked the spoon out of your hands and placed the bag of sweets on the table. 

 “Get dressed,” he said to you, and he went outside with Kíli and Dwalin.

You were still sitting in the exact same spot when he returned, stunned by his reaction. 

“What? Where are we going? Where is your brother and Dwalin?”

He took your hands in his and pulled at them, to get you on your feet. “I send them home. I’m taking you out for a walk, and then we’re getting some real food.”

He gave you a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Instead you saw the pain in them, before it was replaced with resolve. He had a plan and he wasn’t going to tell you.

You gently cupped his cheek.

“Are you ok, Fí? You don’t look like you want to go out with me. You don’t have to do this.”

His fake smile instantly dropped to change in a look of worry, “Of course I want to go! I always want to spend time with you!” He started pushing you towards your bedroom, “Now, go get dressed!”

After a few minutes you slowly came out of your bedroom, dressed in one of your favourite dresses and your hair loose. Edvard would never let you wear this but you wanted to look nice for Fíli. He was doing everything he possibly could to make you feel better, so it was the least you could do. 

Fíli’s eyes widened when he saw you.

“Mahal, you look gorgeous… Beautiful!” he said as he grabbed your arm carefully, leading you out of your house and into the street. He had never called you gorgeous before. Or beautiful.

Wait, where was he even taking you? You turned to him and asked.

“I told you, I am taking you to get some food. We just have to stop somewhere else first,” he mumbled the second part, already focusing on something in the distance.

The angry expression was back on his face and he was clenching his jaw again. You had to admit it was really sexy. You adjusted your dress a bit to try and distract you.

You went into an dark alley and halted before... No, he can’t be serious? What was he thinking?

“Fíli, I’m not going in there!” you said, already starting to panic.

You were standing before the only pub in Laketown. The pub where Edvard was celebrating his newfound freedom.

“I would never, ever force you to do anything against your will Y/N, I just have to do something first, ok?” he reassured you, giving you a kiss on your cheek. He left you outside and swung the door open, fists clenched. He was pissed.

Fíli was shouting so loudly you could hear it from outside.

He could definitely hold his own, but Edvard could get aggressive if he had too much to drink. You needed to stop him before something would happen. You would never forgive yourself if Fíli got hurt because of you.

You took a deep breath and pushed the door open. It didn’t take you long to spot his golden hair at the back of the pub… Your heart dropped when you saw he was screaming at your ex.

“How dare you talk about her like that! She doesn’t fucking deserve any of this! You never deserved her in the first place!!”

Fíli was starting to move closer to Edvard, so you grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Please, Fí, stop! He isn’t worth it!”

“Oh look everyone! It’s my old ball and chain, she wanted to stay home rather than go to this awesome party!” your ex slurred, “Have to drag your friendzone off of me? Figures.”

Everybody laughed at his words, all of them as intoxicated as he was.

“I’m not friend zoning him!” you shouted. You looked at Fíli, who was still shooting daggers at Edvard. “Am I?”

“No,” he said turning towards you, placing his hands onto your hips with a look in his eyes that said ‘trust me’. One hand brushed a few strands of hair out of your face, and kept lingering on your cheek.

“But I do want to tell you that you mean a lot more to me than that. When you laugh, my whole world lights up. I would tell you that every time I see you hurt, it hurts me too. So much. I never said anything before but... I want to be more than friends.”

You couldn’t tell if his words were fake or real, you hoped in your heart that they were the truth but with the murderous look in his eyes, you didn’t know for sure. You decided to be honest and placed your hands on his chest, clutching his tunic. 

“I want that too. Nothing more than that,” you whispered, your heart beating in your throat. 

“Perfect,” he answered and before you could do or say anything, he dipped and kissed you in one fluid movement.

It felt raw, real, desperate and very, very passionate. Like he had been waiting so long for this, pouring everything he felt into this one kiss.

When you broke the kiss, you bit your lip.

Fíli looked behind you towards Edvard, who was seething. 

“You have no idea what you’re missing here,” he told him, swinging his arm around your shoulders and guiding you back outside.

*

You were standing in the street, still impressed from everything that just happened. You couldn’t help but let some serious doubt creep into your mind. Did he really meant what he said? Was being honest even a good call? Or was everything an act to piss Edvard off, including the kiss?

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” he said, smiling at you.

“Did you…” you paused for a second, not actually sure if you wanted to hear his answer. “Did you really mean anything you said back there?”

He took your hands in his, giving them a light kiss. 

“Yeah. I did. It was something I wanted to say for a while.” He started rubbing your hands with his thumb. “What about you?”

You nod.

“Oh thank Mahal. You had me worried for a second there,” he laughed in relief.

You both walked in a comfortable silence, while Fíli lead you through the streets of Laketown. When you reached your house, neither of you made a move to get inside.

You decide to break the tension. 

“You know,” you leaned towards him, “You’re really hot when you’re angry.”

“Am I now?” He raised an eyebrow to you. “You know, I think we should skip dinner. I’m in the mood for...” he let his eyes go over you, “Something else.”

You stared at his curls hanging over his forehead, and you let your hands trail over his braids, his brown eyes getting dark with anticipation.

“Just shut up and kiss me, Fíli.”

A/N: Next time my partner says something that upsets me, I want a Fíli to come and defend my honour. 

[j-casper]

Penelope Garcia x (trans ! ftm) Luke Alvez

aka, how they got together (in Luke’s point of view)

warning: gender dysphoria, (brief mention of) transphobia

- - -

He cuts his hair for the first time with kitchen scissors when he’s eleven.

| | |

There’s something wrong with him, he concludes weeks before when his mother sat him down and told him about puberty, about the changes his body would go through.

Only—he didn’t want to go through these changes.

A nauseous feeling settled in the pit of his stomach when he realized that the thought of puberty, of the things his body would soon go through, unsettled him and, not only that, but...it scared him.

Scared him like when his father shouted at the top of his lungs at his mother when they argued.

Scared him like the time he snuck one of his cousin’s toy cars to his own house to play with it in the secret of his room.

Scared him like the time that he asked for a lightsaber for Christmas only to get his mother’s intimidating stare in response.

He didn’t have a word for his feelings beside scared, didn’t have a word for the reasoning behind his disgust for his body.

That was until...him, Matthew—his new next door neighbor with his shaggy brown hair and built form.

His parents wrote off his admiration for the new neighbor as a crush, teasing him and prodding him every time his wide, awe-filled eyes trailed after Matthew.

It wasn’t long before he realized that he didn’t have a crush on Matthew...no—he wanted to be like Matthew.

He wanted short hair and a built form and a confident swagger.

He wanted to wear khaki pants and button down shirts, along with black dress shoes and a chain around his belt loops.

He wanted a deep voice and scruffy facial hair.

He wanted to be a boy.

| | |

His fingers ran carefully through his long hair, his other hand gripping the scissors he had sneaked out of the kitchen.

It’s 12am in the morning and he’s alone in the bathroom, staring in the mirror hopelessly at the person inside.

Her...Him

Tears ran down his face as he carefully bought the scissors up to his hair, his eyes tightening closed once a strand of hair is placed inside.

Snip.

The cut piece of hair falls on his shoulder and he resists the urge to tremble, eyes opening as he gathered more hair between the blades.

Snip...snip...snip...

Slowly, his hair creates its own pile on the cold bathroom tile under his feet.

At the end, his hair is short and terribly uneven, but, for once, his head feels light.

Tears gather in his eyes as he places down the scissors, his hands gripping both sides of the sink as he stared at his reflection.

“Luke,” he whispers softly, the name he always wished he had when he learned that he would have been named that if born a boy, “my name is Luke.”

Luke allows a single tear to run down his face before he leaves the bathroom to go back to bed.

He climbs in and ignores the pink walls and dolls scattered around the room, and allows the silence of a sleeping house to lure him to sleep.

(He can’t find it in himself to regret his choice when met with his mother’s intimidating stare and his father’s loud, angry shouting at the sight of him the next day.

He’s never felt more free.)

| | |

He gets his first binder at the age of fourteen, a gift from his older sister for his birthday.

She practically has to pry him away from the mirror when he first tries it on and can only proceed to stand there, running a lightly trembling hand over his newly flattened chest.

She’s the one that reminds him to take breaks from wearing it, the words “little brother” leaving her mouth affectionately and part scolding when she does so and he almost cries.

He doesn’t think he has any tears to waste anymore after crying over his father’s refusal to respect his identity and his mother’s judging state that would follow him, silently disapproving of every choice he makes.

.

.

.

He starts Testosterone when he’s seventeen after years of therapy.

The first shot hurts but he doesn’t flinch.

He’s been waiting for this moment his entire life, even if he didn’t know it at one point.

Besides, before long he’s used to the shots and is instead left to beam in delight as he notices the changes his body goes through due to it.

His voice deepens, his body hair thickens, and he even begins to gain facial hair.

He’s happy, he realizes one day as he gets ready for the day, toothbrush stuck in mouth as he pauses in front of the bathroom mirror.

He’s so happy.

.

.

.

By the time he joins the BAU, he’s older and a bit wiser.

His name is legally changed to Luke and his gender is accompanied by a little M on his legal paperwork.

For all intents and purposes, he passes with his (permanent) flat chest from top surgery years before and the years he has been on testosterone.

He’s happier.

He smiles and beams and jokes around.

His sister jokes that he’s a lady killer, charming and flirting; yet, Luke doesn’t really allow himself to get close to anyone romantically.

At the end of the night, he goes home to Roxy and that’s enough for him...until he meets her.

| | |

Penelope Garcia.

Technical analyst for the BAU.

Self-proclaimed nerd.

A woman who sassily comments to Luke upon the second time meeting him that she has an amazing boyfriend and Luke ignores the pain in his chest at the thought of the beautiful woman in front of him being taken as he instead smiles, doing what he does best next—continues to be charming (as his sister would say) and attempts to make a conversation only to get shut down.

He tries to pretend that he doesn’t care about her cold and distant attitude.

He pretends that it doesn’t hurt with how she treats him differently than everyone else, but not in the way he wants.

He smiles despite how much Garcia’s actions hurt and he ignores the fact that a tiny voice in the back of his head nags that she knows, that she’s treating him like this because he’s trans.

It’s nothing personal, he reminds himself, recognizing a hurt individual when seeing one, but hell if he doesn’t feel like it is.

...

“Come on, newbie,” Garcia drawled as she sipped slowly on her drink, eyebrow raised playfully as she teased him, “what’s your secret? We all have one.”

Luke laughed, taking a small sip from his beer before answering, wide smile spreading to his face as he teased back, “wouldn’t be a secret then, would it?”

It was his first time having a drink with the team and his mood brightened when they all laughed at his response to Garcia’s teasing.

Luke relaxed, untensing his shoulders at the teasing, not realizing how tense he was until then.

At the thought, his eyes shot to Garcia as Rossi dived into a story, his eyes meeting hers for a split second before looking away quickly.

He turned towards Rossi, but watched Garcia out of the corner of his eye.

Did she say that on purpose because she noticed how tense he was?

He shook his head as soon as the thought passed through his mind.

There was no way.

This was Penelope Garcia and to her, Luke is just an annoying coworker and not a friend.

| | |

“Do you hate me?” He whispers one day in Garcia’s vicinity, so quiet that he’s sure that she doesn’t hear him.

They’re alone in her lair, and once again he allows her coldness to get to him despite vowing to himself not too.

Her head shoots up, her eyes meeting his.

He can’t recognize the look in her eyes.

He stands straight, hands stuffed in his pocket.

“I don’t hate you,” she admits at last, blinking rapidly and her face looking almost...offended?

Luke shook his head.

“Yeah, I figured, but you know,” he flashed her a small grin and gave a little shrug of his shoulders, his body relaxing at how genuine she looked to be.

Her eyes bored into his for a few more seconds before she hastily looked away and to her monitor.

“I don’t hate you Alvez...far from it,” she admits at last, quietly.

Luke practically beams.

Garcia groaned playfully, “stop smirking, Newbie.”

Luke laughed, dodging her slapping hand as he practically rushed out of the room.

Outside the door after shutting it behind him, he pauses, chest heaving and smiling growing wider.

She didn’t hate him.

Thank god.

...

Garcia...Penelope...is leaving.

She’s leaving.

Leaving the BAU, the team, everyone...including him.

There’s always a silver lining though.

This silver lining came in the form of Emily Prentiss, casually reminding him that Garcia would never date a coworker.

His heart seems to pause when he realizes that they’re no longer coworkers.

They’re no longer coworkers.

He might have a chance.

He steeled himself, standing up straight and remembering everything he has ever been through.

His childhood.

His family.

His life.

He catches Garcia’s eyes from across the yard and he smiles.

Now or never.

...

He asks her out for dinner, and she says yes.

She says yes.

He goes home excited, whooping out loud once in the safety of his apartment, fist pumping in the air.

Roxy jumps excitedly at his enthusiasm and the sight of him, and he laughs.

“Guess what girl? Dad has a date.”

He’s afraid that his face will soon hurt with how much he’s grinning but he doesn’t care.

He has a date...with Penelope Garcia.

...

He wears his best button down shirt paired with dress pants, and carefully he loops his belt through and places on his tennis shoes.

Nice, but casual.

Before he leaves his apartment to pick her up, he wipes his sweaty hands on his pant’s legs.

He’s ready.

...

Penelope Garcia is a vision.

She’s always a vision, Luke concludes, but even more so today now that he’s seeing her through the view of a date rather than a coworker or friend.

Luke nervously smiles, hands pushing the flowers in his hand towards her.

“For you.”

“Why thank you kind sir,” Penelope grins, gently taking them and invites him inside.

He watches as she places the flowers in a vase and he chooses then to speak, “you look beautiful” and she did.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Newbie,” she shot back, “so where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

...

The air outside the restaurant is cold.

“So, that was pretty amazing,” Luke teased as him and Penelope slowly walked to his car and he opened the door for her.

Penelope grinned, “it wasn’t bad.”

Luke laughed, “bad? glad to know that me spilling water on my shirt amuses you.”

“I mean, it did,” Penelope giggled, avoiding Luke’s playful glare.

“Woah, nice to know my humiliation amuses you, chica,” Luke moaned dramatically as he cranked up the engine, smiling widening when Penelope’s laugh grew in volume.

Without even thinking, his right hand shot out to lay on top of Penelope’s own on the armrest, causing her to freeze, laughs abruptly stopping.

“I had a really great time tonight,” Luke admitted softly, grinning.

Penelope paused before admitting just as softly, “me too.”

Luke slowly leaned across the middle console and Penelope did the same, hearts thudding as they slowly grew closer and closer before pausing, faces centimeters away.

“May I?” Luke asked.

“Yeah,” Penelope breathed out.

“Yeah?” Luke asked, smiling.

Penelope nodded her head, “yeah” before her lips crashed again his, all other thoughts but those of Penelope Garcia leaving his head.

...

“I need to tell you something,” Luke admitted after their third date, this one being in Penelope’s apartment and involving a movie and popcorn.

Penelope turned her body towards his, giving him her full attention.

He shifted nervously.

“I’m—” he trails off, brows furrowing as he tries to figure out how to word everything correctly.

Penelope’s hands took hold of his, squeezing them softly and Luke shakingly exhaled.

“I’m trans, Penelope,” he admits quietly, stomach dropping and his breath catching in his throat as he awaits her answer.

Penelope’s brows furrowed, “as in a transwoman or a transman.”

“Transman,” he admits, “that’s why I don’t really talk to my family beside my sister and her husband and kids. My parents didn’t take it too well.”

Penelope’s hands tightened around his.

“Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me,” Penelope told him at last, grinning softly.

Luke grinned back hestitantly, “you’re okay with it?”

Penelope sighed, mock offense due to him asking her this written across her face, “I love you, Luke Alvez, no matter your identity or pronouns or anything else...even if your ego is too big.” Her voice playful as she eased his concerns.

“Good,” Luke joked back, relief settling in his chest, “because I’m bisexual too...wait,” he blinked in shock, mouth falling open a little as he registered what she said, “you love me?”

Penelope blushed.

“I love you too, Penelope Garcia,” a wide smile splitting his face.

Penelope sighed, “you better, Newbie. I’m a catch.”

“Well, so am I.”

He dodged her playful slap and sprinted across the room, laughter from both of them filling the air as she chased after him.

[telli1206]

The Only Time I Feel Alive Is When I Find Something I Would Die For (Part 3)

Mal’s plots turn personal when she cooks up a plan for her big brother, Jay, and Evie’s brother, Carlos.

Part 1

Part 2

“Fuck, do you think he bailed?!”

Mal glares at her brother from her spot on her bed. Jay’s hasty, frantic pacing to her door and back hasn’t stopped for over ten minutes now. His once perfectly combed hair is already in tangles from persistent tugging, and his lips are chewed red and swollen. Even his clothes are starting to crumple under his constant movements, and nerve-wracking sweat stains are pooling under his arms. 

Gross. Mal can only hope Carlos is into good-looking trainwrecks.

“Will you just relax??” She groans and props herself up on her elbows. One glance to her phone and she’s rolling her eyes. “Oh. My. God. It’s only 3:27. They...I bet he’ll be here in 3 minutes! He’s not even late yet. Evil, just...get yourself together!”

But Jay continues his movements like he didn’t hear her, and Mal can’t tell if he’s ignoring her because of his nerves, or if he’s just being his usual asshole self. Either way, her annoyance level is reaching it’s breaking point. 

She slides off the bed so she can stand right in front of Jay, blocking his path. He stops short with a huff right in front of Mal, eyeing her with growing disdain when she refuses to move. His attempt to step around her only earns him a harsh shove to his chest.

“Hey! Watch it!” Jay bursts, stumbling backwards with a flail of his arms. “You almost knocked me on my ass!” 

Jay’s face reddens, and he steadies himself so he can stare down menacingly at Mal. Normally, Jay is undeterred by Mal’s physical attempts to stop him, so she’s actually startled by his awkward stumbling. Maybe he’s more anxious about his study “date” than she thought.

She sighs at the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. There’s no way this smitten doofus of a boy will be able to keep up with their usual banter. As much as she wants to continue her clapbacks when he’s being this irritating, he just looks, too...pathetic. Maybe now would be a good time to practice being a...supportive sister? Like Evie is. With Carlos.

She can try it, at least. If Evie does it, then maybe it’s not so bad.

“Look, Evie already texted me that they’re on their way, ok?” Mal does her best to soften her tone and reaches out to grab Jay’s shoulder, trying to rub it reassuringly. “She wouldn’t lie to me. Carlos. IS. Coming.”

“Right. Ok.” Jay winces, pinching his eyes shut. “Right. I’m being a fucking idiot.”

Mal chuckles and grabs his other shoulder to guide him out of the room. “No more than usual,” she teases as she gives him a light push into the hall bathroom. “Now, clean up. There’s no way you want Carlos seeing you like that. You ruined all MY hard work with that little freak out of yours.”

Jay turns to glare, but catches his reflection in the mirror instead, his eyes widening as he takes in his flustered, messy state, touching the frizz of his hair gingerly and leaning in close to examine his lips.

Mal chokes back a snicker, fighting the urge to further comment on Jay’s obvious distress. If she wants things to go well, he needs to keep a handle on whatever self-confidence he can muster before Carlos arrives. And she does want this to go well. For both of them. 

A gentle knock at the door catches her attention, followed by her phone buzzing in her pocket. She smiles to herself, not even bothering to check the text.

“Alright Jay, make yourself presentable and get your ass downstairs. You’ve got 5 minutes,” Mal quips, sliding back into the hallway. 

He nods, and a stuttered squeak escapes his lips. He goes back to brushing his hair, picking up speed to try to sort himself out. Mal leans back in to cast a short glance over Jay’s shoulder and into the mirror, giving her purple locks a quick fluff before retreating downstairs. She can’t stop a smilefrom curling on her lips as she nears the door. 

“Well well, this is a surprise!” she teases as she’s pulling the door open. 

But the rest of her joking is silenced by Evie’s bright smile and shining brown eyes. Mal is frozen, just for a moment, on the pretty girl at her door, not even aware yet of the boy at her side. Not that this is new, really. Mal feels herself weirdly gawking at her best friend no less than a dozen times whenever they’re together. But that must just be something that comes along with being friends with someone as stunning as Evie. 

The pretty bluenette purses her lips into a tight smile, her hand grabbing for Carlos to pull him in beside her. “Ha ha. Nice one Mal,” she snarks, dragging Carlos past Mal and into the house.

“Please, come in, won’t you?” Mal mutters, closing the door behind them. She spins around to face them, flashing a toothy grin. “Carlos!” she chirps, finally focusing on the curly-haired boy at Evie’s side. “Welcome! It’s good to see you.”

Carlos breaks into a smile, wide and bright. It’s almost as pretty as Evie’s. 

“Thanks Mal.”

She tries not to stare, but it’s as hard to look away from Carlos’ smile as it is Evie’s. He’s...absurdly attractive, just like his sister.

Carlos watches Mal for a moment, chewing on his lip. His eyes dart around the room, clearly looking for something. Or someone.

Um, Jay will be right down,” she spurts out quickly. “He had to gather the...study?...materials, that you need. I think that’s what he s-”

“Here! I’m here!”

All eyes dart to Jay, who’s jogging hurriedly down the stairs. He stops in front of Carlos, smiling happily but also panting breathlessly, his chest heaving to suck in some much-needed air. 

Mal smirks at the two boys standing still and silent, with eyes locked and mirroring the same goofy grin. Evie slips back carefully, releasing her grip from Carlos to step up next to Mal, sneaking a subtle wink her way as she does so. Mal grabs at her arm and pulls her away to ease some space between them.

“Well, we’ll leave you two to study then!” Mal shrills, shocking Carlos and Jay out of their momentary trance. “Jay. Just don’t forget your...pencil. Ok?”

Jay rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah, thanks sis,” he murmurs. He lifts his arm, pausing mid-air, before finally slinging it casually across Carlos’ shoulders. 

“Um. This way, Carlos,” Jay offers softly, steering the freckled boy towards the backyard sliding doors. “I-I set us up outside. To study. I thought...the sunshine, would be nice.”

Carlos nods quietly, walking beside Jay with a pleased smile as he leads them outside.

Mal’s eyes follow them and she bites back a grin. “Come on,” she insists to Evie, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her along. “I guess, we should study too, right?”

When they get to Mal’s room, Mal immediately flops back down onto her bed while Evie stands and stares in the doorway, her brows furrowed.

“What?” Mal asks when she notices Evie’s befuddled look.

Evie giggles, taking a few steps closer to the bed. “Don’t forget your pencil?” She perks a brow at Mal, letting her fingers toy with a silky blue curl on her shoulder. “You can’t tell me that wasn’t code for something. I know you too well, Mal.”

Mal smirks proudly, patting the spot next to her. She watches happily as Evie follows her silent command, breathing deep when Evie drops down beside her so she can inhale the sweet waft of her perfume.

“Believe me, I had no doubt you’d catch that, Princess,” Mal coos, throwing Evie a wink. “Nothing gets past you.”

Mal delights in the soft pink blush that’s warming on Evie’s cheeks. For a second she’s tempted to reach for them, to feel the warmth under her fingers. But she resists, for now. She’s way too excited to share her plan that’s currently underway with her pseudo partner in crime.

She grabs for Evie’s arm, pulling her close. They’re almost chest to chest, and Mal and can feel the hitch in Evie’s breath as she leans in even closer. “I’m not gonna tell you though...” 

And Evie’s eyes suddenly flash a look of concern. She searches Mal’s face, her features only relaxing when Mal breaks into a wide grin. She scoots herself to the window near her bed, dragging Evie with her.

“...I’m gonna show you. Get over here and look.”

Evie smiles and inches closer, carefully resting her arm on the windowsill that Mal is already propped on. Mal puts a finger to her lips, quietly pointing down for Evie’s eyes to follow. 

Just below them, Jay and Carlos sit at a table in the backyard. Both boys are currently pouring over their own materials, barely looking up and not even acknowledging each other. 

Evie can’t help frowning at what she sees. She was definitely hoping for more of a connection for Carlos, especially with Jay’s obvious interest in her sweetly shy brother. She braves a glance back at Mal, hoping to read her expression, and finds herself suppressing a giggle. Mal is...pouting? At least, that’s what it looks like, with her brows knitted together and nose scrunched tightly. She bites hard on her lip, still staring at Mal and trying her best not to smile. But her normally snarky friend is just...adorable.

“Ugh, this is NOT what I was expecting,” Mal grumbles, fisting her hands. She glares down at Jay, eyes boring through the top of his head with angered determination. “He fucking better do what I told him. That down there is the most G-rated shit I’ve ever seen. He could have a study date like that with...with...our grandma!”

Evie tilts her head, eyes wide with renewed interest. “Oh, so you told Jay what to do with my brother? Is this some long, elaborate scheme to seduce Carlos or something?”

Mal lets the hint of a smile slip, her eyes still focused on the boys below. “Maybe,” she teases, letting her gaze shift to Evie. “Or maybe, I’m just teaching my clueless brother how to flirt.”

“Flirt??” Evie exclaims, brows raised in mock surprise. “He...needs your help? With that? Does Jay really think his pre-teen sister knows how to flirt better than he does?”

“No,” Mal snaps, her smile fading for a moment. “But I do.”

Mal lays a hand on Evie’s shoulder and turns her to face the window. But Evie’s too distracted by the touch to really realize what she’s doing. It feels almost...electric, prickling at her skin and sending a shiver down her arm. She can only hope Mal doesn’t notice, that she can’t feel the sudden racing of Evie’s heart, as if it just thudded to life under their skin-to-skin contact.

But Mal’s now sporting a smug grin and looking down at her brother, seemingly unaware of Evie’s inward struggle. “I guarantee you Jay’s going to do what I told him.” Mal muses, her eyes still trained on him. “My advice was way too good to ignore. Just watch.”

Evie exhales and leans into Mal’s touch, watching Carlos and Jay along with her in silence for what seems like, forever. But it soon becomes painfully obvious that...nothing is happening. Both boys are buried in their own books, occassionally letting their eyes drift to the other, but neither is saying a word. It’s...boring. Not that Mal and Evie have much experience with dating, but they might just keep it that way if all dates are like...this.

Mal drums her fingers nervously on Evie’s shoulder, speeding up their pace with each passing minute. Evie chuckles at how frantic they are now, the thrumming of them is practically ringing in her ears. She places her hand over Mal’s to calm her, giving a comforting look into bright green eyes.

“It’s ok, Mal. You did your best. Maybe Jay has his own moves he wants to try. Eventually.”

Mal scoffs and looks away. “Please. He wouldn’t have even gotten this far with Carlos without my help. He’s hopeless without me telling him what to do.”

Evie just shakes her head and starts to move away, ready to urge Mal to get to work on their own project. But Mal tightens her grip on Evie’s hand all of a sudden, yanking it down and squeezing tightly.

“Shit! Fuck yes, look!”

Evie’s eyes dart to Jay, who’s finally looking Carlos’ way. He’s leaning across the table, moving so slowly that Evie’s eyes can hardly register the motion. His hand is extended toward Carlos, and it looks like he’s going for...his notebook?

“W-what, is he doing?” Evie asks, stealing confused glances back to Mal. But the smirk on her face is evidence enough that this was part of her idea. 

Jay’s hand stops just short of Carlos, but is close enough to catch the boy’s eye. He looks up from his writing, eyes narrowed on Jay’s hand, then up to meet his gaze.

“Hey Carlos?” Jay smiles softly, and Carlos relaxes, letting himself smile back. “I can’t find my pencil. Can I, borrow yours, just for a second?”

As he speaks, Jay’s hand slides forward again. His fingers raise just enough to cover Carlos’ hand with his own, his fingers curling to grasp up to Carlos’ wrist.

Carlos’ eyes drop down immediately at the touch, his brows raised in surprise as he watches Jay’s hand encompass his. When Jay finally withdraws, he makes a show of lightly scraping his fingers down Carlos’ knuckles. The sensation is soft and almost teasing, and Carlos finds himself swallowing sharply to avoid making any pleased sounds from something as simple as touching hands. When Jay reachs the pencil resting in the crook of Carlos’ hand he closes his fingers around it, pulling it along with them and slipping it out of Carlos’ grasp.

“Thanks,” Jay whispers, his eyes still on Carlos. “I’ll give it right back, I swear.”

Evie’s attention is diverted just as Jay starts writing, feeling another tight squeeze to her hand. She had almost forgotten Mal was still holding onto it. Mal is looking at her, teeth clenched into a broad, catlike grin, and she squeezes Evie’s hand again.

“Yessss! This is going to be gold,” she squeals, looking intently at the paper Jay is writing on.

Jay looks up and grins toothily at Carlos as he finishes his note, and pushes the the pencil back across the table. He follows it with the paper, giliding it across the table to stop right in front of his freckled crush.

Carlos perks a brow, examining both Jay and the paper with a growing curiousity. Jay nods his reassurance and slides the note further towards Carlos, resting it just under his Carlos’ fingertips.

“Go ahead,” he urges. “It’s for you.”

Carlos inches the notes towards him with his fingertips, finally dropping it into his lap and snatching it up quickly. His lips twitch eagerly as he reads along.

“Carlos,

I hope this note makes you smile, because you have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. I’ve liked you for a long time. Will you go out with me?

~ Jay”

Jay beams as he listens to his request read aloud, his eyes sparkling with hope when Carlos finally looks into them.

“Well, what do you say, Carlos? Will you let me take you out on a date? A real one, not for studying,” he clarifies with a chuckle.

Carlos bites his lip through his smile and starts to nod eagerly. His whole action is so vigorous even his slight body is shaking along with the movement.

“Eee-!”

Evie’s excited shriek is silenced by Mal’s hand clamping down on her, muffling the  sound.

“Shhhhh, there’s more,” Mal rasps, pressing her face close to Evie’s. “We haven’t even seen the best part.” She drops her hand from Evie’s mouth and directs the girl’s chin back down with one finger to keep her watching.

Jay walks around the table to stand behind Carlos, who twists his head back to watch, confusion setting deep in his eyes. Without a warning, Jay pulls out Carlos’ chair, causing him startle and yelp. Jay then slides himself between Carlos and the table in front of him, crouching down to eye level so he can flash his most disarming smile, the one that Mal assured him will make anyone absolutely melt like ice cream on a summer day.

“I had, just one more question, Carlos,” 

Jay slips a hand under Carlos’ palm, rubbing circles into it with is thumb. “I just...I’m wondering. If it’s not too much. If there’s one more thing you might let me do?”

“Uh, yes?” Carlos chews on his lip while trying to look Jay in the eye, but his thoughts keep drifting back to the hand now holding his. “Of course. What are you asking to do, exa-”

He’s cut off by lips on his own, Jay’s hands cupping Carlos’ cheeks and pushing their mouths together. Jay keeps the kiss soft and gentle, letting his lips slide over Carlos’ lightly, stopping only to suck a bottom lip between his teeth, and giving it one delicate tug before pulling away and sitting back upright.

Carlos sits stunned for a moment, his eyes still closed, before opening them to meet Jay’s unsure stare.

“Um. I hope that’s, ok?” Jay’s voice sounds surprisingly meek given his bold move, and he rubs a shaky hand at the back of his neck.

His uncertainty fades, though, as soon as Carlos breaks into a grin and lunges towards him, fisting his shirt and pressing their lips back together. Jay can’t stop from smiling into the kiss, and grabbing at Carlos’ waist to push their bodies in closer.

“Well,” Jay muses, still holding Carlos tightly when they part. “I hope this a good sign for how our date’s going to go.” 

Carlos smirks, and without a word dives back in and kisses Jay firmly. “Just shut up and kiss me,” he mumbles, their lips still connected. “You made me wait long enough, don’t you think?”

Jay chuckles and places a hand at Carlos’ neck, anchoring him in to deepen their kiss. “Whatever you want, babe.”

Evie giggles from her vantage point above, watching Jay and Carlos’ kiss unfold with glowing elation.

“Oh! That’s so sweet. I’m so happy for them,” she coos, clasping her hands together.

Mal chuckles and scoots away from the window. “You’re welcome,” she says matter-of-factly, leaning against the wall to face Evie.

“Someone seems pretty sure of herself,” Evie muses, with an edge of mocking in her tone. “Do you really think Jay would’ve struck out with my brother without your flirting tips?”

“Oh, I know it,” Mal answers smugly. “He’s lucky he’s got a sister that’s so good at it.”

“Mal,” Evie sighs, shaking her head. “You’re twelve. How could you already be a master flirt?”

“I’m so glad you asked that, Eves.”

Mal stays focused on Evie as she drops down on all fours and starts to crawl across the bed. Evie sits, frozen, her eyes following Mal’s every movement. She wants to speak, to ask Mal what she’s talking about. To ask, to dare, and see if it might be what she’s...hoping for. But her tongue is too thick, too dry at the sight of Mal hovering ever closer, and she has to force a labored swallow before Mal is upon her and she completely loses her ability to talk.

“So, you should know, that Jay is not the reason I’ve worked on my flirting.” Mal confesses. She’s close to Evie now, so close she can feel Mal’s breath ghosting her face.

Shit, Evie needs to say something. She swallows again, and this time it seems easier. She can feel her tongue, at least.

“O-Ooh. Really?” She squeaks out. Her voice is barely a whisper. “Why, then?”

Mal grins. “Because, there’s someone I’m interested in, too.”

Mal’s eyes drift briefly to Evie’s lips and back, so quickly it’s easy enough to miss. But she catches it, and in that same instant Evie’s heart jumps into her throat.

“Is it. Someone I know?”

“You might.” Mal replies cheekily, her grin growing toothier as she now, very clearly, looks Evie up and down. “She’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever met.”

“Ah.” Evie’s confidence is growing, but she still ducks her head to hide her blush. “Are you...close, with this girl?”

“The closest,” Mal whispers, inching closer. Their noses are touching, and Evie can’t bring herself to even blink. “Especially right now.”

Evie tries to giggle, but it’s breathy and awkward and dies in her throat.

“Evie, I was wondering...if there’s something you would let me do?”

Mal’s boldness falters for just a moment, and Evie recognizes the hopefulness in her eyes. She’d seen it today already, only a few minutes ago.

But instead of answering, Evie surges forward, meeting Mal’s lips and kissing her intensely. She revels in the muffled moan of surprise, vibrating from Mal’s mouth through her own parted lips. When she pulls away, it’s Mal that’s flushed, her mouth puffy and red and eyes wide with surprise.

“Yes, Mal. Of course,” 

Evie leans back in for another light peck, smirking proudly. “Unless, I already answered your question?”

Ahhhh! I finally finished this one! This is meant as a big “welcome back” to @bunny-lou, and also as big hugs for @hersilentlanguage and @fuck-you-i-am-spiderman. Hope you like it! 😘💖😘💖😘💖

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

Robron week - Day 6

“I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment to you, Dad.”

It had all happened so quickly. One minute they were welcoming Seb home from university and the next he and Robert were in the back of an ambulance and he felt like his whole world was falling apart.

Seb hadn’t even waited until they were sitting down to the welcome home lunch they’d worked on all morning before he’d dropped his bombshell. He was dropping out and taking himself off travelling. Aaron had wanted to sit and discuss it quietly having convinced Sara to go and visit her Grandma for a while, but Robert was having none of it.

The little boy that had clung to his Daddy on his first day of school refusing to let him go had changed into what his Mum would've said was a typical teenager, even at the age of twenty one, and he and Robert had been butting heads for years with Aaron stuck in the middle.

Predictably the pair of them had got into a massive fight, standing toe to toe in the living room, shouting over each other and getting nowhere until Robert had gone quiet as soon as the words left Seb’s mouth. Before Aaron could say anything he was having trouble catching his breath and complaining of pain. Now they were in a hospital room.

“Is Seb here?” Robert asks him, still sounding pretty stunned, but a lot better than he had a couple of hours ago.

“He’s in the waiting room with Sara. I'm going to call Ana in a bit.”

"There's no need, I'm fine."

“They’re our children and you just had a heart attack.” Robert huffs out a breath and groans.

“A mild heart attack.”

“A heart attack is a heart attack in my book. You heard what the doctor said, you’ve been stressing yourselves out for weeks and blowing your top at Seb certainly didn’t help.”

“He’s dropping out!”

“So what? Would you rather he was miserable? Whatever happened to them following their heart like you used to tell them?"

“Being a doctor is all he’s talked about for years.”

“Well maybe he’s realised it's not for him…I don’t know but you’re not going to find out by going toe to toe with him over it. If the two of you ever just talked to each other rather than everything turning into a slanging match then maybe you’d know that.”

“So it’s my fault?” Aaron's not looking but he can practically hear the pout.

“That’s another thing you could try and get better at, actually listening to what people are saying.”

“Very funny. Will you go and talk to him.”

“I’d rather stay with you.”

“I’m fine. Aaron…you heard what he said.” Aaron knew. As soon as the words left Seb’s lips he knew what Robert would be thinking. “Please. I can’t have him thinking he…make him understand.”

“Ok, ok. Just calm down or I’m going nowhere. I mean it, I can’t be worrying about you and talking to Seb, Robert.”

“Send Sara in then. You know she won’t let me get away with anything.” Aaron snorts, their younger daughter had acquired a bossy streak from somewhere which most of the time was a complete pain, but right now it could be just the thing he needed to keep Robert under control. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“Good. I don’t want you going anywhere just yet, you hear me?”

“Mild, Aaron. A mild heart attack.”

“Still a heart attack.” He fires back, hand on the door handle. "Behave."

He takes a few moments to himself before going to find Seb, he can't remember the last time he was as scared as he'd been ringing the ambulance, seeing Robert look so pale.

He finds Seb in the waiting room, head in hands, Sara next to him flicking through a magazine but Aaron's sure she's not seeing any of it, unless she'd acquired a sudden interest in gardening techniques since she'd arrived.

"Sara, would you go and sit with your Dad sweetheart, while I have a chat with your brother. He's ok, but make sure he's not knotting his sheets together to escape or 'owt will ya." He squeezes her shoulder as she passes and looks back at his son. "Seb. Sebastian, let's take a walk."

"He's really ok?" Seb asks him when they step out into the sunshine. Aaron leads him to the hospital garden, that he'd found years back when Ana was born and he was here all alone, needing a break.

"He'll be fine mate. As long as he takes things easy."

"I'm sorry Dad. I didn't mean to make him ill." He sounds like the little boy who used to come into their room complaining of nightmares, not the confident young man he'd grown into.

"Hey, you didn't. Your Dad's been stressing for weeks about stuff and besides he got himself all worked up, that's all."

"ls...is he really mad?"

"No, not in the slightest."

"But..."

"He's not mad. He's worried that you think you're a disappointment to him."

"I...I'm not?" Aaron hates how small his voice is, like all his confidence has just melted away. He's always known he's a mini Robert, but sometimes it's still hits him and this is one of those times because this is Robert all over.

"Not one bit. If you want to go off and travel for years then do it, but can I suggest that if you tell your parents something that momentous you maybe prepare the ground a little and perhaps don't be quite so defensive when we ask you if you're sure."

"But it means I'm giving up everything you wanted. for me. A good job and that."

"Seb, me and your Dad wouldn't care if you were collecting trollies at Tesco. The only thing we care about is that you're happy, and now I think about it, you haven't been have you?" It hadn't really occurred to him until now but in their weekly chats Seb's sounded different, less like himself. He'd put it down to studying hard but now he knew better.

"I hate it, and I'm really not very good at it."

"Oh mate, you should've told us."

"Didn't want to disappoint you."

"Not possible. Dad and I would never want you to be miserable just to please us. Especially him, that's the very last thing he'd want. What made you think he would?"

"He's just... he was on my back so much when I was at school, making sure I had good grades, and always asking me how it was going and that. S'pose I thought I had to be the best."

"That's his way of showing an interest. He'd started watching medical documentaries on telly so that he could try and understand the stuff you talk about, which didn't really go well judging by the shade of green he'd turn."

"Dad!" He's pleased to finally get a laugh out of him.

"What? It's true! Listen Seb, your Dad just wants you to do what you want, what makes you happy. I know he gets a bit...well Dad but thats only because...If I tell you something I don't want you to tell your sisters ok?"

"Why?"

"That word is no less annoying now than it was when you were four and wanted to know what was holding up the sky,"

"Stop it!"

"Your Grandad Jack..."

"What about him?" They only knew him as Grandad, a good man and Aaron didn't want to ruin it, after all he'd been the only Grandad they'd known, even if it was only in a photograph, after he'd fallen out with his Mum and Paddy. He can remember Robert insisting they knew who he was even though Aaron and Sarah would've preferred the man be consigned to history.

"He and your Dad they didn't always get on. When he was little, your Dad wanted to do something with computers. he didn't want to work on the farm, like your Grandad expected...and well, instead of supporting him like you should he just got angry." He's not telling him everything. there was no need and Robert was adamant they would never know. "That and some other stuff that I'm not going into left your Dad feeling like he wasn't good enough, that he was a disappointment and he spent years trying to make up for it." Aaron sees the moment the lightbulb comes on.

"Oh."

"That's why what you said, and I know you didn't mean it, but yeah it hurt him. Your Dad he's so protective of the three of you and he's never wanted you to know this stuff but I think you're old enough now to know that not everyone is as perfect as they seem."

"So why can't I tell Ana and Sara?"

"Because it's not your place. It's up to your Dad. I only told you because he was so worried you were feeling like he did as a teenager. Besides, you're not grown ups to us, you're still our babies."

"Ugh, you're so annoying!"

"Yup. Come on, let's go and see your Dad. I expect he's driving your sister mad by now."

"I can't believe you thought she'd keep him calm. She's so bossy."

"Yeah yeah. Do I have to remind you who said she wasn't allowed your toys when she wasn't even a day old?"

"That's just common sense Dad. Ana had already destroyed everything I owned."

"Just a bit of an exaggeration. I found your giraffe the other day you know. I was clearing out the attic and there he was."

"I thought I'd lost him. You didn't throw him out did you?"

"I wouldn't dare. Your Dad would kill me for a start. You know he bought that for you. It was your favourite for years. You were a right menace if we forgot it any time."

"Still a menace though aren't I?"

"You're a Sugden-Dingle mate, that was a given." He opens the door to let Seb through. "Seb, maybe we don't say it enough but we're very proud of you, both of us."

"Alright, don't start gettin' mushy on me."

When they get to Robert's room he's sitting in the chair by his bed and Aaron looks at Sara who holds up her hands. "Don't look at me. The nurse said it was ok as long as he didn't get wound up."

"Well you were the wrong one to sit with him then squirt." Seb jokes, pushing her shoulder, yelping when she punches back.

"Exactly how old are you two? Sara, go ring your sister and tell her your Dad's ok and not to rush over."

"Why can't you?"

"Because I'm the Dad." He sighs as Robert glares at him, telling him to leave them to it. "Fine, come on, I'll do it."

He takes one last look at them, Robert looking more like his old self, and Seb standing to one side looking anywhere but at his father. He hears Robert tell him to come closer and Seb's in his arms before he can finish. Robert catches his eye and nods.

They'd be fine.