#sorry this was rushed so some stuff was mixed up

[aviradasa]

Might I request something with the lost boys? (It can be together or separate- I’ve read a good bit of stuff where it’s poly, but you 100% don’t have to)

how would they react to a reader that is also a vampire, like reader is part of their coven, and when they go out to hunt reader just goes FERAL and ends up covered in the victims blood?😅

Heyy sorry this took forever this is my first oneahot for them and i was struggling to write the boys personalitys a little, so this is very short, sweet and not very detailed at the moment but once i get into this my writing will improve for them just bear with me!

Thank you for leaving your request and here is

Poly! Lost boys x Vampire! Reader

Bloodlust of a halfling

The sun is just setting across the little California town of Santa Carla. To most folks, now's the time to wind down; to the young people, it's time to party, but for a couple of select groups, it's time for something even better...

“Paul, you throw one more goddamn bottle cap at me, I'm gonna jump over this sofa and bash your fuckin balls in!” I whip around in my spot, placing both hands on the back of the sofa as I shout the threat, staring him down as he teasingly holds one up, pretending to throw another one, before Dwayne comes up behind him, snatching the cap as Paul jumps up, to chase him.

Some of us were feeling a bit crazy tonight. But that's good. The adrenaline running through our undead bodies was something we lived for - and killed for.

Well, they killed for. I was one of the few halflings of the group. One kill and I'll never have to worry again. Only a fool would be willing to pass that up. It's okay star, and Michael will come around eventually.

“Alright, boys, you know what time it is! Lets get outta here.” We all hear David tell us; he stands by the entrance, ready to go with that evil little smile he gets.

Once he speaks, the others jump up. Whooping and hollering like usual. Marko comes over to me, and as I'm about to stand, he grabs my arms and yanks me from my seat as we both laugh. Once we all make our way outside, I hop on the back of Dwayne's bike.

Star Michael and Laddie stay behind for now. They just aren't ready; that's ok, though, cause the boys have deemed tonight mine, and I'm gonna prove them right.

We speed through the darkened brush before we exit onto one of the empty beaches. The sound of all of our shouts, laughs, and Hollars, plus the revving engines mixed together, sounds like the warning calls from a pack of coyotes or something. 

Making our way onto the boardwalk, we park the bikes, and I already know what to do. Making my way towards the live show area I spot a group of douchie-looking drunk surf Nazis, our rival group

Perfect for a first kill.

You see my job was to be bait. Lure in some drunk,horny assholes away from the crowd so that we can all rush them fast without any escaping. Luckily, this was the easy part, and I have had a lot of practice at it.

I make my way over to an open spot that is easily noticeable by where they are standing. Swaying with the music as I begin to dance for a little while. Once I feel an eye on me, I twirl to face them with an inviting smile, gesturing for them to come over, almost like a witch casting a spell. At least that's what it seems like with how derpy and hypnotized these drunk fools look as they approach me.

Even their aura is crude and suffocating as they make their way over, surrounding me. There are only three, but it's still heavily uncomfortable. Lucky I need not fear. This will all be over soon.

Being bait was never a fun experience. But it's not like the boys can come out here and attract people to follow them to sketchy places.

Ok, well, they could. They just don't want to. But that's beside the point

Now that I have the attention of the group, I grab two of them by the wrists without a word, dragging them away from the crowd; the three of them follow without a thought as I lead them to the darkened beach and under the boardwalk. Letting go of them, I run a bit farther into the darkness under the dock with a laugh. 

The surf nazis start to look a bit freaked, only taking a few more steps, looking at each other paranoid, before one of them raises their finger to point at the five pairs of glowing yellow eyes that appear from the darkness. 

The surf nazis try to run, but it's already too late. The boys are on them, fast, cackling, and laughing as they take down two of them. Its up to me to kill the third,

My nerves are through the roof as I stand frozen for a moment, but then suddenly the scent of blood fills my senses and I'm on that surfer like a bat outta hell,

I fly up behind him as he begins to run, but he doesn't get far as I slam my feet into his spine; he falls face first into the rocky sand as my heels dig into his back, I'm quick to step off, though. I move to straddle his back, grabbing one of his arms and bending it backward in a way no human body should bend, He tries to scream, but before he can get anything out, I dig my claws into his throat, successfully ripping it out.

I stand up and flip his body over swiftly as I completely start tearing into his flesh. Clawing, biting, chewing, ripping, tearing, snapping. By the time I've finished, the mangled corpse is covered in blood. I sit over the body for a moment, catching my breath. I know I don't have to breathe, but it helps calm down a bit. I feel the blood clinging to my skin and clothing, making my hair stick to my face, and bloody sand and dirt cling to me like glue. It's pretty uncomfortable, but I don't care right now. The blood coursing through me is like a drug, And I feel my body getting stronger by the second. The power rushed through me.

It only lasts a moment, though, before a voice breaks me from my moment.

“ DAMN GIRL WHAT THE HELL!” I hear Paul exclaim with a cackle. My head shoots to look at him. My gaze flickers from him to the others, who now also look up from their meals with smirks, chuckles, and grins, and I can't help but just stare at them back in embarrassment for a moment before joining in on the chuckles. I don't know what exactly they find so amusing, but I might as well join in.

“ well somebody was hungry.” Marko teases as he looks from you to the body you've torn to pieces. You just roll your eyes at him as you reach behind you to grab a bit of flesh you missed the blood in 

��That's one gnarly ass first kill. Good job.” Dwayne says, admiring the whole scene for a moment before giving you a thumbs up and going back to tearing the flesh off of his guy's arm.

Luckily, the boys decide not to tease much; they remember what it's like. How the first kills can feel on the body and mind, so they keep most of the joking to themselves for now. They will get you later, though, you best believe. But for now, they are gonna let your state mellow out.

David, on the other hand, doesn't mind the idea of teasing you right now.

He doesn't say much he just glances up mid-scalping the guy who Dwayne is pulling flesh from to admire your work a bit “ could have kept him alive a little longer and had more fun, going for the throat kills them too quickly in my opinion” he critiques giving you a cocky smile before he goes back to his business.

Once he turns his back, you look over at Paul as he begins to silently mock David, which you and him share a little childish giggle about before he and Marko finish off the corpse they shared. David and Dwayne finish a few minutes later. After feeding, we all throw the body into the ocean, Knowing the rest of the remnants will be washed away by morning due to the tide. 

Then we leave. We try not to stick around too long after kills just in case someone hears the commotion or anything of the sort. 

But As you all make your way to the bikes, which had been parked nearby, the obnoxious nature of the boys carries on. After kills, they are always pretty hyped, and after how crazy your first one was, they are even more amped up. Slinging their arms over your shoulders, and giving you hugs, Marko even ends up giving you a piggyback ride the rest of the way over 

Once he lets me down, David grabs me and decides on his own accord that I'm gonna ride back with him. But hey, I'm not complaining. Once I get seated on the back of his bike, we set off, and for some reason, I'm just exhausted. I guess I wasted my energy tearing that guy up like an animal, but that's ok. I begin nodding off a bit on the ride back to the cave. I fight to try and stay awake but to no avail, so I eventually just rest my head against David's back, tightening my grip around his waist a bit so I don't fall off. The last thing I hear is his chuckle and the rumble of the bikes as I slip into a light sleep.

Finally, now that I'm truly one of them, I can rest. I was so worried before I fully turned and anxious, but now I am free. Free of the confines of a human body, and a human soul. Now I'm just me, and I'm immortal; better yet, I can be with my boys for eternity. Who could ask for more? I certainly couldn't. I've already been spoiled so.

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni Enemies to lovers with some massage therapist Bucky. Breeding kinnk, aftercare, Bucky is a secret softie, all that.

Imagine Rival Biker Bucky x f reader. A smutty, slutty little concept while I add the finishing touches to another fic, just getting this out of my system first. I just love the idea of a sexy, bad boy Bucky getting his hands on the one girl who won't give him a second glance because she's too good for him and they're from opposite worlds. Since childhood. Now he's a biker. Covered in black ink. He works in an auto shop. Owns the bar that brings in chaos. He's smoke, whiskey and leather.

She, however, is soft, pretty, smart and does not have the time to entertain someone like him. She has her degree. Working on a second. She has a career. She does not associate with the likes of him, not as the police chiefs daughter. She'll be damned if she has to even breathe the same air, especially when his gang is the cause for half the problems in the town that her father has been trying to get rid of.

Now, imagine that hours of working on her notes and papers leave her with unbearable knots and kninks in her back. She doesn't want to take a break but the pain only gets worse as the week goes by. It doesn't take long for her to shoot her regular massage therapist a message to book the very first available appointment.

-

You unclasped your bra, folding and setting it off to the side while waiting for Wanda in the warmly lit room. You could have sworn she was a witch with the way she made pain disappear; she’d also become a good friend after your many visits.

The knock at the door interrupted you as you slid your shorts off, leaving you in your panties, not rushing to jump onto the table considering it was just Wanda anyway.

“Come in!” You smiled, making your way to the massage bed as the door clicked open- “Oh my God!!” You nearly shrieked seeing Bucky walk in, a shit eating from spreading across his face as you scrambled to grab the tiny towel to cover yourself though it was a futile attempt. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

"You have an appointment, don't you?" He quirked an eyebrow as if it was clear as day why he was there.

"Yeah, with Wanda, why are you here, did you get lost on the way to jail?" Your face scrunched in a mix of confusion and disgust ignoring the roll of his eyes while you snatched your shirt to better cover up.

"Well Wanda couldn't make it in but she sent me" He said with a shrug, sighing when he saw your less than impressed face, "Don't flatter yourself, I'm just training under her as part of my physiotherapy internship"

"I'm sorry, you're trying to tell me you of all people are learning how to give massages? Please"

"Physiotherapy" Bucky corrected, "You're not the only one who has a degree, princess" Bucky watched as you groaned realizing you hadn't put your bra on, opting to stuff it in your bag instead of putting it back on in front of him.

"You are NOT laying a finger on me-ow!" You hissed, feeling the knot in your back tug at the rest of your muscles.

"You're not gonna be able to do a whole lot with that much pain" Bucky smirked, only half joking. He wasn't wrong. The pain was worse than before and you needed this an you really didn't have the time to reschedule.

"Fine" You mumbled, turning away from him so you could take your shirt off again, glaring at him when you noticed he hadn't turned away. "Could you at least give me some privacy instead of lurking in the corner like a pervert"

"Whatever you want, princess" He bit his lip as he faced the wall, hearing your feet pad across the tile to lay down on the massage table.

"Alright" You huffed after covering your lower body with the towel, now laying face down, immediately second guessing yourself as he walked over.

"Let me know if anything's uncomfortable or if you want me to stop" His voice was no longer snarky; in fact he sounded professional. "Where do you feel the most tension?"

"Um-shoulders and-lower back" You mumbled out the last bit, he was going to massage you there anyway so there so no pointed hiding it. You tensed at the feeling of his oiled fingers starting to work at your muscles, he had no right to be that good. At all.

“Shit” you hissed trying to keep your voice down, ignoring the clench of your stomach feeling his rough fingers press down on the areas that were tight. Little did you know Bucky was struggling far more than you were.

It went against every bit of professionalism he had. Every moan you tried to silence went right to his cock, his hands making their way lower before trailing up again. Fuck, you sounded so pretty...

"Better stop making those sounds"

"Or what" You challenged back before you could even stop yourself.

"Princess..."

"Your attitude is what needs fixing" Bucky growled, professionalism be damned, "fuck this"

-

You have no idea how you ended up here. It didn't matter though, not when there wasn't a single cohesive thought in your brain as you wailed letting Bucky absolutely rail you. Your back didn't feel an ounce of pain as he took you on all fours, pulling your hips to slam back against him, gripping your ass with enough strength to leave you sore.

"Feel better now huh baby, not trying to stay quiet anymore, are ya" He let out a low chuckle which melted into a groan feeling you tighten on his dick, "Such a good little princess like you letting me put my dick in you, dirty girl"

You hate to admit it but the clench of your cunt betrays how much you love this. It was so wrong. You had no business fucking someone like him and yet where you were letting his precum paint all over the inside of your walls.

"What would your daddy say princess, if he knew where you were right now, what you were doin'? Thinking you're studying when you're actually all pretty and naked, letting me rub that gorgeous body up and down, bet you'd let me put my cum in you too, huh? Bet your dad would love that, his perfect little girl all knocked up with some bikers baby"

You could have said no, stayed silence, just about anything but nope. You screamed feeling his fingers reach around the massage your clit, your orgasm wasting no time hurling towards you.

"Ja-Ja-JAMESSS"

"MMMPHH I love the sound of that baby, could get used to hearing you sayin' my name, say it again princess, say my name with my cock in you, c'mon, that's it"

"Fuck-James-I-James" You were a mess and loving every bit of it, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, all the pent up stress you were feeling finally releasing. You felt your throat tighten, a sob escaping your lips as you let go, your arousal making a creamy mess on the dark curly hair on the base of his cock.

"God, you're milkin me, you want my cum that bad huh baby, want a little biker baby in that tummy of yours, I'll give it to you, give you so much I might even put twins in there-FUCKK"

-

"Shhhh" Bucky cooed, wrapping you up in a fluffy towel while cuddling up your limp body, wiping away any remnants of tears while you stayed floating in a subby, post sex haze. "I got you, you did so good princess" You only manage to let out a weak whimper, giving into his warm, thick arms that rock you.

"You alright angel?"

"Mph" you mumble against his chest and he reaches over for a glass of water that's nearby, bringing it up for you to take a sip. You're surprised at how sweet he's being, drinking up before snuggling into him again. Damn him for being so warm and comfy.

"Y'know, there might be a little Bucky in there" He whispers with a playful smirk in his voice, fingers tickling your lower belly, chuckling when you narrow your eyes at him.

"You wish" You sass back, ignoring the butterflies you feel.

"I do" He admits, biting his lip, his previous cocky demeanor replaced with a shy one, though he tries to mask it. Poorly. His cheeks are pinker than the time you threw paint on him for pulling your pigtails. When you were both 4. "I'd want Bucky jr. to have your brains though"

Imagine that incident sets off a very interesting chain of events. A confession of feelings. You both couldn't be happier, meanwhile your father is grumbling about how he knew this fuckin' day would come, God damn it.

"I never liked that boy" He struggles to keep a scowl on his face watching you giggle like you were 4 again, running to the door as soon as you hear the rumble of his bike.

"Shut up, you love him" Your mom chides, watching Bucky swoop you up for a loving kiss, heading you a bouquet of yellow flowers as he always does.

-

"I still don't like 'em" Your dad says while you roll your eyes, your arm linked with his as he walks you down the aisle.

"Is that why all the files you had to build a case against him all suddenly went missing?" You tease and your dad shugs.

"Wasn't me"

-

just an idea.

[jo-com]

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ ➛ Shots

Oscar Piastri x Fem!reader

Summary: You guys are used to having people send out free drinks because they fancy Oscar, but when it was your turn he did not like it one bit. (Inspired by the oneshot I’ve read, I forgot who the author was sorry😭)

Genre: Fluff

Note: nothing, just look out for grammatical errors and this is not proofread

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

───── ─ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ─ ─────

The sun radiated brightly emitting a soft glow that shined over the flesh of your skin— it was creating a rather medium type of shade the longer it sets on your body.

You don’t mind it though, as long as you were relaxed and rested in the embrace of you boyfriend; everything was just okay.

You and Oscar, along with his fellow drivers decided to have a day off at the beach. It was trip that has been long overdue, due to their busy schedules the trip was postponed one to many times.

So when they had their day off, the lot of them took advantage of it and agreed to pay the beach a visit— enjoying the calming atmosphere that surrounds the beach and having to spend time with their significant others. The whole afternoon was nothing but perfect.

After playing volleyball, you guys decided to just chill near the bar lounge and gossip about anything that comes to mind.

You and Oscar sat at the middle in between Carlos and Lando. As they talk more and more, your eyes started to drift off; the sound of their voices started to mix the other background clamoring.

Your eyes were closed but was still tentative— you could still feel the brush of air that lightly ran over your skin along with Oscar’s fingers that circulates at the curve of your back.

With a low hum, you acknowledged his gesture and was pleased to let him know that you appreciate it.

As time passes by, they were all still happily chatting; laughing at each other’s joke and a bit of yelling but playful one’s of course. Everything seemed to be going so great.

Well not until one of the staffs walked towards their way, holding a tray that consists of one drink.

The whole group looked curiously as the man settled the drink in your table. The loudness of their voices suddenly died down—all eyes looking intently at the man whose just doing his job.

With the sudden quietness, curiously you fluttered your eyes open. Not being able used to the sound of silence, you propped your body up and was now leaning your whole body at Oscar’s chest.

Your eye’s widened as all attention was onto you— you felt the intense feeling of being stared at back of your head.

“Good day ma’am, that gentleman over there wanted to give you this” he spoke, his hand then went to his vest and pulled out a piece of paper.

The waiter handed you the note and left, right after you took the piece of paper.

“What does it say?” Max asked, just as curious as the others.

“I’d like to know as well” oscar spoke, his tone laced with both curiosity and jealousy.

“Well…” you trailed off and then proceeds to open the folded paper.

‘Hey hot stuff, can i have your number??’

You giggled at the childish note, making your friends cock their head to the side, anticipation rushed over them as they try to read the expression off your face.

Meanwhile Oscar was not having it, he caught a glimpse of the note and saw what was written over it. Oh he was not happy at all.

“It’s nothing, just some guy asking for my number, it’s stupid really” you spoke, brushing off the note like it was nothing, i mean it was nothing well for you it was.

For Oscar, it was like all hell broke loose, did that guy not notice Oscar or something?

All the others just laughed; you along with them. It was just a harmless attempt to get to you, it’s not that big of a deal. Oscar gets those every-time and it’s fine cause you know he wouldn’t act on it or anything.

You we’re about to reach for the drink when you felt Oscar’s hand grabbing it first. You turned to his direction and raised your brows at his action.

“Oooh someone’s jealous~” Lando teased, repeating it two more times before laughing out loud. The others heard the commotion that lando started and played along with his jokes.

Oscar rolled his eyes, completely denying his emotion. “I am not jealous, i just think it’s stupid,” he shrugged, trying to play it cool— even though you could tell his true feeling just by looking at his face.

“Yeah right” Carlos replied, earning a fit of giggle from around the group.

“You’re not actually jealous? Are you baby?” You spoke teasingly, chuckling a little at your own words.

“Like i said, i am not” he said in a monotone voice; he was acting childish it was adorable. In your eyes it was— it wasn’t in his.

You then slowly shifted your body to face his and snaked your arms that rested on his shoulder blades. “Don’t take it at heart baby, you know I won’t actually give him my number right?” You whispered, loud enough for him to only hear.

“I know…” he sighed, his arm settled in the plush of your thighs; squeezing the soft surface to find comfort.

“I just don’t like it that i was here and he still asked you, am I invisible or something?” He added. His head hung low to avoid your stare.

A soft giggle left your lips as you grazed your finger over his chin and slowly lift it up, so you could be eye to eye. “Now you know what i feel when someone does that to you, but baby rest assured that i am yours and only yours.”

Oscar slowly smiled and hugged your body close to his,”i love you” he muttered— the hug getting tighter to which you of course accepted happily.

“I love you too, my love” you smiled and pecked his lips; it was short but meaningful kiss of assurance.

The whole day then went fine, sure they were teasing him non stop but it doesn’t affect him that much like earlier because you were there to assure him every-time.

…

Creds to the real owners ideas, this is just my version of it! Hope you like it guys sorry for not posting to much I’ve been in a writers block😭😭

[v1rtualsalvat10n]

𓆩♡𓆪 how to tell you goodbye

— weeks after his mysterious disappearance, lu shows up at your door with a message for you.

notes :: TW FOR DUBCON. uh yeah I find the idea of him apologizing for doing what he has to do very hot. f!reader sorry guys this is self indulgent

You don't remember how long it's been.

But you know it'd been long enough for you to stop wondering if he was actually coming back or not, and try to cope with that fact. He was gone - there was very little doubt in your mind about that. He'd stopped responding to calls and messages, his socials went cold, his friends, at least the ones you knew, hadn't heard anything either.

He disappeared. And the last thing you ever heard from him was that he was planning on doing something... real. But he never told you what. He could be dead for all you know, and there was nothing you could do about it.

It took a pretty big toll on you. He was one of the few friends you had, and just like that he was gone. Just when things were looking up for you, your support system just had to vanish into thin air. You missed him, fuck, you missed him more than anything. You missed your little coffee shop dates, the weekend parties, playing games in your apartment when it was lonely, sitting in the park together just talking for hours.

You miss those little looks he gave you when he thought you weren't looking, the way that some of your mannerisms made him smile, the nights where your conversations would get real and you'd cry on his shoulder when it was too much for you. You miss how he'd let you.

You missed the moment when he made you look at him, and wiped your tears with his thumb, letting the tension between you two linger for longer than it should. You missed his warm, shaky breath against your cheek. But you missed the most that moment when you felt his lips on yours, just for that few seconds.

You didn't miss the way he seemed to have regretted it after.

But you remembered that the clearest of all... watching the guilt in his eyes set in as he moved away from you, standing from your couch and rushing for his bags, saying that "it was getting late" or some lie like that. You remembered how he didn't even look back at you as he walked out of your door.

And that was the last day you saw him. He texted you the next morning.

"Hey, I probably won't be able to see you for a while. Working on stuff. Gonna do something real with my life."

What the fuck did that even mean? It made you angry, irrationally so. It probably only made you angry because you thought it was your fault. But god dammit, that felt valid! You felt like you had a fair reason to be pissed. It was no secret you liked him - it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out either! He'd do something like that so carelessly, and then just throw you out?

You hated it. Maybe you'd feel better with an explanation, but the truth of the matter is that he kissed you and then mysteriously disappeared, not to be seen again. And how were you not supposed to make assumptions in that situation?

And so you'd spend your days by yourself. With no more Luigi to rely on to keep you from spiraling, you'd been curled up in your room by yourself, scrolling through his social media posts, rereading your message logs to see if there's something you'd missed.

You had a jacket of his he left at your place, and every night you'd wrap a pillow in it and breathe in the mix of cologne and his natural scent until it lulled you to sleep.

It wasn't enough. You wish he'd come back, but even if he did, what was there to say? Even if he apologized, you didn't know that you'd forgive him.

That is, until he actually did come back.

No, surely that was just wishful thinking - that knock was probably a salesman or someone stupid like that coming to bother you. You dragged yourself up from your bed and slowly approached the door, groaning to yourself before putting on a fake smile to answer it.

And sure enough, there he was. Cold and scruffy looking, his clothes ruffled and his hair matted, bags under his eyes. He pushed you inside, and slammed the door behind himself.

He kissed you again. But this time he didn't hesitate, and he wasn't gentle - he threw himself onto you, your lips messily colliding with his as he leaned into it, diving his tongue into your mouth. His hands slid down to your hips, grabbing the waistband of your sweatpants so tight it was like he might fall off the Earth if he let go.

The kiss was sloppy and desperate, and he hungrily pushed it as far as you'd let it go, which was admittedly pretty far. But then the shock faded, and you pressed your hands to his chest, shoving him back. He was weak enough that he fell back into the door, leaning against it to prevent from fully toppling over.

"What the fuck?!"

You'd never yelled at him before. Never even thought about getting upset with him. His face turned fearful, as he steadied himself and tried to walk forwards again. You took a step back for the one he took forwards.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Who do you think you are, fucking with me like this?!"

His expression shifted. He just stared at you, blankly, either too tired or too numb to show any emotion anymore. And fuck, that only made you angrier. "You think this is funny? I was worried you could be dead, and now you just- show up, months later, looking like this? Why didn't you say something? You just- just-"

"I'll explain everything. Just... I really... missed you."

"Yeah? You didn't miss me enough to at least give me a heads up that you were alive!" You hid your face in your hands, sighing deeply trying to contain yourself. What reasonable explanation could there possibly be? You couldn't reason with him surely.

You hear him step forwards, and he places his hands on your hips again. You reach down to pull him off of you, but the moment you move your hands away from your face, he's pressing more kisses to your lips. He holds you tighter, his arms wrapping around you. "Get off me," you growl, but he doesn't listen.

He kisses your neck, his warm breath shaking profusely. "Luigi," you say, and he can't even look up at you. You yank one of his hands off, only for him to put it back on you with more force than the last time. "I said get off!"

"Let me make it up to you," he begs you, his gaze meeting yours as he walked you forwards, pushing you onto the couch. You try to stand, but he's quicker, and he straddles you, hovering over you and pushing you down by your shoulders. He stops looking you in the eyes, too embarrassed at what he was doing.

"Luigi, stop! I'm trying to talk to you, god dammit!" He doesn't listen. He can't. He's already straining his jeans, grinding his hips into yours. It's warm. He's warm, and fuck, you can't lie to yourself. You missed this feeling. You missed the feeling of something real being there with you. You missed him.

Your body betrays you, and you softly rock your hips forwards into his, swearing under your breath. He smiles softly, cupping one of your hips in his hand. "It's okay. I know you missed this." He looked at you, a weird sincerity in his eyes, considering what he was actually doing.

"I'm not messing around. This- this isn't funny. Let go of me." At some point you had stopped struggling without noticing, and you squirmed again, causing him to push more of his weight down onto you. He spoke softly to you. "Shh, it's okay... It's okay, I promise I won't take long. Promise, promise."

He muttered some words in Italian, something that sounded along the lines of a prayer as he rutted into you, yanking your hips up to get more friction. "Stop it," you say again, covering your face with one of your hands.

The truth is that you'd dreamed of this moment for so long. So very long. You'd dreamed of what it would feel like when he finally touched you, his skin on yours, giving you all he had to give. But fuck, not like this, not like this-

He finished with whatever he was reciting, and slipped his fingers under your waistband, along with the one of your panties and tugged them down. You pressed your thighs together, but he was stronger than you and pushed them apart, leaving you exposed for him.

"You're beautiful..." He stared down at you, leaving a crimson shade on your cheeks. "I'm sorry, I just... I felt like I had to tell you goodbye." Your eyes widened as he said that, and you shook your head. "What are you talking about? Luigi, I'm not going anywhere. You're not going anywhere either. You don't have to do this, please-"

By the time you finished, he was already unbuckling his belt, the sound of the buckle clinking against itself making you shiver. He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, rubbing himself against your folds. He was big. Bigger than you expected. Big enough that it looked like this might leave you sore.

You tried to scoot back, but he reached for you and pulled you closer than you were before, gasping at the feeling of your wetness against his cock. He'd longed for this forever, maybe even since the moment he'd first laid eyes on you. It felt like heaven to him, despite how dirty he felt - despite the fact that he knew it was wrong.

Something about you looking down on him for this only made him harder.

He lined himself up with your entrance and parted you with just his tip, his nails sinking into your hips as he did. "Fuck," he whimpered, "I'm so sorry, amore."

And with that, he slid into you slowly. You sighed in relief, only to cry out when he was so overwhelmed by pleasure that he slammed himself into you as deep as he could manage, rolling his hips into you.

Fuck. You could feel him pressing against your cervix. His breath shook as he panted heavily, shutting his eyes tightly as he pulled out nearly all the way, only to slam back into you. He swore, leaving bruises on your sides from how hard he was holding you. It hurt but you didn't care.

He kept up this brutal force, moving all the way out just so he could thrust deep into you again. It took him a while to speed up just because he was so overstimulated by it. But when he did, he fucked you like a wild animal, slamming his hips into yours, the obscene sound of his skin hitting yours filling your apartment.

You looked up at him, who still had his eyes closed out of shame. You couldn't help but imagine what he saw behind his eyelids, what he was imagining as he fucked you in earnest. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he fought against them. "I'm sorry," he muttered, over and over again. He couldn't stop apologizing.

"It's- it's okay, it's okay... fuck-! I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you... oh god..."

That was too much for him. Your acceptance, that unconditional love of yours, the fact that he could do this, and you would still understand, pushed him over, and tears streamed down his cheeks.

His hands frantically slid up your sides as he leaned down onto you, both your chests pressed together, getting as much of his skin on yours as possible. He ran his fingers up and down you, committing every hill and valley to memory. "I'm sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you. I promise you. I promise."

He kept mindlessly apologizing as he used you, controlled by his own need. There was no stopping him now, and you didn't want to. He was beautiful even like this, even at his lowest point. You knew that you loved him in this moment.

"I'm gonna cum, please, please... I'm sorry, I need it, please, baby-" He kept babbling through his tears, which fell onto your cheeks. You closed your eyes softly, leaning into his touch, pressing your lips to his.

He devoured you in an instant, the kiss deeper than before, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared his release. "Perdonami, ti prego," he begged, speaking inbetween breaths.

"Lu," you cooed. "Go ahead. It's alright."

As soon as you commanded him, his eyes shot open and he threw his head back as he rammed into your cervix, spilling himself deep inside of you, his body shaking as he did. You tightened around him, the feeling of him finally letting himself go enough to make you cum too, as you called out his name.

He stayed tensed up over you for a moment, his arms struggling to hold his weight as his eyes shut, and he collapsed on top of you, his face in your chest. He started to sob, gripping you tight, one of his hands going down to entangle with yours. "I'm so sorry, amore," he repeated, over and over, "I'm sorry"s falling from his lips.

You pressed him closer, free hand stroking his hair softly as he crumbled in your arms. "It's okay. I forgive you."

"Please don't hold it against me."

"We'll figure it out, okay, Lu? We'll figure it out, together. Me and you. Because I love you."

"I love you too.... No matter what happens, remember that I love you."

[st7rnioioss]

۶ৎ BUNNY!READER x SHY!MATT

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... shyyyy matt and reader, sub!matt kinda, handjob, making out, matt being called a good boy! (once)

matt and you had gone to the mall for the day, a nice treat after a tough week of work. you had planned to go grab some lunch, before finding the necessary stuff you needed, and then go back home to watch a movie. but.. that wasn’t exactly the case right now. you hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet.

lewd noises came from your intertwined tongues, your slick lips rubbing against matt’s. it had started off as a quick kiss before his hand came to rest on the side of your face, his thumb dragging your bottom lip down to allow his tongue to slip inside of your mouth, your tongue meeting his.

both your hands were running through matt’s hair, gently pulling him closer to you as you continued kissing, his thumbs caressing the soft skin of your flushed cheeks. your noses occasionally brushed, a tiny smile tugging on your lips as he slowly pulled back with a pop but stayed close to you. both of your lips were glistening, neither of you knowing whether it was the other person's or your own saliva—or a mix—probably the latter.

a soft smile spread on your lips when you noticed his flushed face, cupping his cheeks in your hands. “so.. do you think we can go get lunch now?” you asked, smiling shyly at him, before letting go of his face to unbuckle your seatbelt.

for a moment, matt stared at you, almost dumbfounded while he tried to calm himself down.. which was impossible.

he was aching hard, the tent in his jeans not going unnoticed by anyone. he knew he couldn’t hide it from you - so he bit the bullet.

“uhh.. can w-we wait a second?” his voice was weak, unable to stop himself from palming him through his jeans, just to relieve the throbbing a little bit. you turned to face him with a confused look on your face, your eyes subconsciously looking where his hands were resting.

“oh..” you immediately matched the red shade of his cheeks, leaning back in the seat but keeping your eyes on his erection. he looked at you, your eyes meeting his in a questioning gaze. “um.. i’m- i’m sorry, i can’t really- uh, can’t control it.” he mumbled shyly, keeping his hands over his crotch to at least attempt to diminish the ache.

“no- don’t be sorry, it’s uh.. it’s fine. we’ll just wait.. no need to rush,” you had all the time in the world, so you wouldn’t mind waiting another ten to fifteen minutes.

after a minute or two of silence, and matt’s problem clearly not going away, you decided to speak up. “do.. do you want help?” you looked over at him, watching as he still helplessly had a hand over his crotch to attempt to ease it. meeting your eyes, he nodded slowly without saying a word, slowly letting his hands slip from his hard cock.

you watched, almost in awe from how desperate for touch he was. immediately you decided you had parked secluded enough for no one to walk by or notice what was going on by the wheel, so you reached to unbutton his jean, unzipping them agonizingly slow. gently, you tugged his jeans down his thighs, the lack of restraint making him throw his head back against the headrest, a low groan slipping from his lips.

gently, you continued to pull his boxers down his thighs as well, a silent gasp coming from the both of you when you freed his cock, hard and leaking. slowly, you turned to look at him, wanting a sign that you could keep going - and when he nodded, you let your palm wrap around him, a quiet moan uttered from him.

“f-fuck.. please, i need it..” he whimpered, looking down at your hand wrapped around his hard cock, starting to jerk him off painfully slowly. the sticky residue from his pre-cum gradually spread across your fingers and palm, a hum leaving your lips as you could use it as a form of lube.

his hips jerked upwards when you slid your thumb across his throbbing tip, another whiny moan leaving his parted lips. looking up at him, he goddamn nearly came on the spot, your pretty eyes looking up at him with his dick in your hand, blushing as you leaned closer to meet his lips in a deep kiss. you kept up the same pace, your free hand cupping the side of his neck, his hands coming to rest on the sides of your face. occasionally, you swiped your fingers over his tip, making his body jolt and a muffled moan slip from his lips.

“shit- i think m’gonna cum..” matt whimpered when he pulled away with a quiet pop, and you nodded slowly, picking up the pace of your hand, watching his face scrunch up into pleasure. by now his tip was oozing with pre-cum, and you could feel him throb in your hand. it wouldn’t take much before he came. he was so sure there was nowhere else he’d like to be, his whole face flushed while watching you work wonders.

“you’re doing so good, matt.. good boy,” you kept your voice soft, pressing a kiss to his cheek. those words and the way you stroked his tip with your thumb made his mind fog up, spilling his seed into your hand with a loud groan and a whimper of your name. his chest was heaving, burying his face into your neck as you brought the kisses down the side of his face, attempting to regulate his breathing and heartbeat from the overwhelming sensation.

pulling back, you looked down to watch the mess. your entire hand was covered in the white, sticky substance that kept coming, continuing to stroke your hand up and down until you were sure he was done. awkwardly, you opened the glove box, fishing out a wet wipe to wipe his cum off your hand, before bringing it to his sensitive cock.

“sorry, sorry- it’ll only take one second..” you reassured when he whimpered, quickly helping him pull his pants back up. when you were done, your eyes met his in a silent stare, the both of you blinking and keeping some awkward gaze.

“umm, thanks.. yeah, thanks.” he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his cheeks still a pink tint. you smile shyly, giving him a small nod. “yeah, it’s not a problem. it’s okay,” he nodded back at you, before he cut the silence with a soft kiss to your forehead, making you break into a faint smile.

“let’s go get lunch,”

more bunny!reader here!

୭˚. ᵎᵎ tags: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @coffeeobsesssed @lovergirl4gracieabrams @urmomlovesme12

© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[catsukkii]

Clumsy love — katsuki bakugo.

In which…

katsuki is cooking in the kitchen, and you accidentally surprise him, he turned around to quick and hit you :( ..maybe it’s a good thing though.

Pairing; Katsuki Bakugo x Afab!reader

Content contains; fem!reader, angst/comfort (but mostly comfort), Prohero!katsuki, sweet kats, maybe a little ooc (sorry..), use of “babe, baby, doll, ‘kats’”, swearing, cheesy cheesy love stuff, mentions of blood, reader getting hit (on accident).

Word count; 1.4k

a/n; this feels rushed but I think it came out pretty cute — I also rewrote like ALL of this it went from 1.0k to 1.4k with my edits to the story..I’m scared to post this pls tell me y’all fw it 🙁 if smb already wrote this IM SORRY I don’t have an @ or anything, I cant remember if I took inspo from someone or was creative for once 😢

katsuki was stirring a pot over the stove, the boiling water and smell of the delicious stew he was cooking wafting through the air. Katsuki always loved to cook for you, no matter how tired he was. He’d cook a million times a day if it meant he got to see you light up at his thoughtfulness, not to mention he’s practically a 5 star chef.

He was pacing around the kitchen to grab various seasonings, vegtables, and other simple things. You wanted to show him some silly video off your phone, so you walked from your shared bedroom and approached him from behind, I suppose he didn’t hear you coming until you were right behind him, tapping him on the shoulder excitedly.

“kats, look-“ but your words got cut off with a mean ‘smack!’, the back of his hand making instant contact with your nose, your hands instantly reaching up to cup you’re now bruised nose as you squeak out an ‘ow ow ow!’

“holy shit!,” he exclaimed. “babe, I’m so sorry.” he drops everything, the spoon dropping into the pot, water splashing lightly with a ‘plosh’. He rushes over, grabbing your wrists lightly; a worried mixed with guilty look on his face.

“it’s- mmm fuck!” you grit out through bared teeth. “it’s fine, not ur fault kats—“ you hiss out, eyes squinting and ur brows furrowed from the sharp pain stinging in your nose. He was a pro-hero, and strong obviously, so when you startled him, he hit you with a lot of might. (all might reference.)

“no no—shit!- that’s not fine babe..lemme see cmon.” he stutters around, searching for the right words. you could tell by the glint in his eyes, and the way they softened, by his brows and the way they softly perked up and furrowed, by the tiny pout on his face, just how absolutely worried and awful he felt about himself right now. He slowly went to move your wrists from your face, careful to be gentle with you. You let him move your hands away from you’re poor injured nose slowly, tears stinging the corner of your eyes from the pure pain that spiked through you.

“aw fuck, y’r bleedin babe, cmon…” a unfamiliar gentle—? no…soft? yes but no—….worried? tone? yeah. worried. He knew you were okay, it wasn’t broken although it might feel as bad as one for a few minutes, nonetheless he hurt you.

his rough fingers wrapped around one of your wrists gently, guiding you to the bathroom, your other wrist still clutching your nose, trying to not let the gross metallic blood drip onto your nice clean floors. also to keep pressure on it, though it certainly wasn’t making it feel any better.

he sat you down gently on the lid of the toilet seat, both of your hands now cupping around your leaking nose, he settled on grabbing some toilet paper for a quick fix and wrapping it around his calloused hand. He rested on his knees to look up at you and get a better view to clean the blood. yet all you could think about was katsuki bakugo, was fucking kneeling on the ground for you. of course this didn’t even cross his mind in these conditions, all he could think about was the fact he did this, mistake or not, it was him. he tilted ur head back gently, his finger tips resting under your chin. He cleaned the blood spewing from your nose with softness and delicacy as if you were a porcelain doll. It was uncharacteristic of him to be so soft and gentle with you, of course he was a sweetheart to you, and he had his soft touchy moments, but it was still quite early in your relationship and katsuki was always a closed off person. Safe to say you knew he felt fucking awful.

“kats, ‘promise I’m okay, don’t feel bad, ‘ts not y’r fault.” You reassure him with a raspy tone considering ur head was tilted back, your vocal cords pressing closer to the front of your throat. you were still in pain and reassuring him. how could you be telling him it’s okay? reassuring him? he should be reassuring you.

“no no—fuck shhh, don’t say none of that shit..” he grumbles out, still focused on your nose, the bleeding was slowing down to a halt which made him grateful, he gently pulled the tissue away and threw it in the bin, he stood back up; his knees popping, (~~he’d kill you if you brought that up any other time~~.) hand gently caressing and looking at your nose, rough finger tips softly rubbing around and up and down your, now, less bloody nose.

when you look up at him with your big teary eyes and pouty lips, he can feel his heart shatter impossibly further. Once he deems your nose worthy enough to stop being catered to, he looks down at you with a big sad face and caresses the side of your head, cupping it with his big coarse palm, the weak look in his eyes just about broke your own heart into a million tiny pieces. you can’t help but melt into his touch, extending out a hand to carress his face aswell, cupping eachothers cheeks with the harsh cool lighting of the bathroom, the dried up blood still partially down your nose; the color of your skin turning a purpleish-blue around the area.

“kats…” you pout at his sad defeated look. “I’m okay, I promise. It wasn’t even your fault, I jus’ caught you off guard. don’t blame yourself baby..” you attempt to reassure him with a soft gentle tone. katsuki wasn’t used to this, someone being so soft around him, speaking to him in a sweet tone. He couldnt even begin to know what to do. The consistency of your thumb rubbing back and forth softly over his cheek, everything was to much.

“I know—I know but I hurt you baby. me, I did. I never wanted to do that, and I did. I can’t believe myself an-“ you could tell he was going to start a pointless ramble about himself, so u cut him off with a gentle shush, your delicate fingers draping over his lip in a playful manner, a soft smile tugging at your lips. You didn’t wanna hear him say such mean things about himself, especially when it truly isn’t anybody’s fault.

“shhh…katsuki.” he listened. as he always did to you. “don’t beat yourself up over this please..” to him your voice was like honey. sweet and smooth, just the right consistency. “things happen. I’m fine, the pains already getting better,” a small weight lifted off his shoulders as you reassured him the pain was already starting to fade.

“I love you.”

oh. you guys were dating but you’ve never went that far. he feels his heart pick up in speed, freezing, you were starting to worry you made him uncomfortable. why can’t he speak? why can he feel himself sweating? his hands are getting clammy, and he feels like the world is crashing around him.

“…I love you.”

he said it. you didn’t expect him to but he did. you didn’t make a big deal out of it, instead just smiling brightly up at him, your eyes crinkling as it always did, it was truly his favorite sight to see. He would never admit it, but he’s truly down bad for you.

“and I know you’ll still love me even if I’m all bloody and bruised.” you joke with him lightening the mood, he lets out a airy laugh pulling you into his chest gently, tilting your head so your cheek is smooshed against his chest as to be careful of your nose. maybe it’s a good thing katsuki hit you, maybe if he didn’t you wouldn’t of said I love you. maybe he wouldn’t of gotten vulnerable. The terms are silly of course, and it will be a funny story to tell down the line.

maybe katsuki does seriously love you.

“yeah. I will, doll.”

A/N guys I’m shaking before I post this

[no-144444]

a creepy guy who isn't all that creepy- o.bearman

Day 18 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: Why does your cappuccino taste like shit? And why are you being followed by a random 6 foot man? 

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You walked down the streets of Monaco with a frown on your face. It was raining, and on the rare occasion it rained in Monaco, it fucking poured. You powered through the cold water hitting your skin and manoeuvred your way through the various crowds to your favourite coffee shop. It was a small hole-in-the-wall kind of place. It was cosy, it had good coffee, and usually no one bothered you. You ordered a vanilla cappuccino, knowing that you definitely had somewhere you should be (aka, your office) but you just couldn’t sit inside any longer. Fresh out of college and into an office job, it was great, of course, but sometimes the bland office was slightly oppressive to your creativity. You were an author after all. Published at the ripe age of 20. You had your book tour coming up soon, and you’d be busy with family in a few months too, and-

“Cappuccino?” the barista, Martha (yes, you were on a first name basis with the staff, you frequented a lot) called out. Quickly, you swiped the cup and rushed off, hopeful that your manager wouldn’t mention how long you were gone. 

“Sorry?” a British voice called out behind you, but you ignored it. There was a British guy there, some name starting with L, who tried to ask for your number, and refused to take no for an answer, so you moved on assuming it was him. 

Onward you went, trudging down the almost empty streets, your headphones in. You took a sip of your drink and instead of the usual vanilla foam and black coffee goodness, you were met with a bland black coffee and regular foam. Well, you couldn’t fault them too much, maybe it was their subtle way to tell you to stop ordering the same thing everyday? You weren’t sure. Regardless, you continued on your path, a feeling of unease growing in your stomach as you noticed the tall man behind you, following. 

You sped up, took your keys out-

“Sorry, I don’t mean to intrude, I think I picked up your coffee by accident?” A British voice spoke from beside you.

Oh. Not so creepy then. Just a mix up. 

“Fucking hell!” you gasped. “Were you not taught to not sneak up on people?”

He guiltily smiled. “I did try to call you in the coffee shop, but you walked off…”

“Oh,” you nodded. You took the lid off of your coffee and handed him the cup. He handed you his without the lid. You took a quick sip to find that it was in fact your vanilla cappuccino. 

A bright smile spread across your face. He smiled too. 

“Sorry about that,” you smiled. 

“I’m sorry too,” he apologised. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

You shrugged. “Read a lot of thriller fiction?”

“You’re Y/n Y/l/n!” he exclaimed. “Yes! I love your books.”

You nodded, it still shocked you that people read your books. “Thank you.”

“Sorry, this is probably weird,” he shook his head, embarrassed. “Can you sign my book please?”

He quickly grabbed your latest release out of his backpack with a sharpie, and looked at you with a crooked smile. 

You obliged, as you often did with fans. “What’s your name?”

“Ollie, Ollie Bearman,” he smiled. 

You turned to him. “I know you too! You’re incredible!” 

He looked at you in surprise. “You watch F1?”

“Yeah,” you stated like it was obvious. “You were incredible on your debut, and in Baku.”

He blushed slightly, and you smiled. “Thank you very much.”

You finished signing his book then handed it back. “I guess I’ll see you on the track next year,” you smiled. “Good luck.” 

And with that you walked on. He peeked inside his book to find your personal phone number with a note that said ‘call me xxx’ and smirked. 

Who knew messing up a coffee order could go so well?

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi

[merakiui]

terror in threes.

yandere!rollo flamme, fellow honest, & skully j. graves x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, slight flavoring of religion (father rollo flamme strikes again), murder, death, brief descriptions of blood/gore, age gap for reader (19) and fellow (26), physical abuse (beating), unplanned pregnancy, slut-shaming, kidnapping, coercion, obsession, delusion, stepcest, non-consensual kisses, all three characters written as 18+ note - three short horrors featuring the halloween trio in: MERCY, the terrifying tale of a vindictive priest; ON A DARK, STORMY NIGHT, the chilling caution against getting into a silver-tongued stranger's vehicle; MERRY, the shocking story of a twisted stepbrother led by a one-sided love that is not meant to be. // inspired by this brilliant artwork. thank you to the bestie @heyyy11 for discussing these thoughts with me. :D

MERCY.

Bent over the sink, you watch yourself in the mirror while your boyfriend pounds into you from behind. His fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your hips; your dress is bunched up in messy wrinkles and ruffles.

“Some—ooh—someone might come in,” you grunt, attempting to lift yourself onto your arms and failing miserably when he all but pushes you against the counter with a particularly rough thrust.

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he says, gazing at your blissed-out reflection. “Everyone’s gone home. Candlelight service’s over.”

“Yes, but—” you tamp down a bawdy moan— “I just worry.”

About someone catching us. About getting locked in. 

“Aren’t we in God’s house? It’s supposed to be safe twenty-four seven.”

“If you say so…”

“So don’t worry.” He leans over to kiss the top of your head. You collapse against the sink. “There you go. Just relax. I gotcha.”

You shrug off your inhibitions and surrender to the pleasure. One hand slides away from your ass to reach between your thighs. You mewl like you’re in heat, arching your back the moment his fingers brush your clit. Now you feel like you’re floating, every frazzled nerve smoothed out once you feel the waves of encroaching orgasm lapping at your insides. But just before you can unravel, his hand covers your mouth.

Confused, you meet his stare in the mirror.

“Shh.” He holds a finger to his lips. “I heard someone outside.”

You roll your eyes. Either it’s his attempt to scare you or make the situation seem sexier. You think it’s the latter when he tears his eyes away from the door and resumes his thrusting. His hand falls from from your mouth, and soon your voices are mixing together, echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom.

“I’m close,” you gasp, clenching tightly. “So close. Oh, I’m—”

The door creaks open then. You almost don’t hear it until someone loudly clears their throat. Like well-oiled clockwork, you and your boyfriend turn to look at him. For a moment, you forget he’s Father Flamme. Without his black cassock and holy accompaniments, he looks like a normal person.

“Ahem.”

Immediately, you’re pulling away from your boyfriend and pushing your dress down. “F-Father Flamme, we’re so sorry!”

Stern greens flick quietly from your bare legs to your face. His arms are folded behind his back.

“Damn,” your boyfriend mutters, visibly agitated. You’d feel the same if it wasn’t for the scalding embarrassment rushing through your blood.

He regards the both of you coldly, a disapproving frown etched on his face. “Why are you apologizing on his behalf? He has a mouth of his own.”

Taken aback, you open your own mouth to apologize once again and then shut it. Your boyfriend hurries to stuff himself into his slacks and then stands protectively in front of you.

“Think you should apologize first for looking at my girlfriend,” he sneers.

Father Flamme is silent for a moment. “Of course,” he finally concedes. “I should apologize.”

“Then do it—”

“I should apologize,” he continues, sardonic, “for providing her with a love far superior than the foul, impure lust you’ve shown her.”

“You take that back!”

Your boyfriend surges forward, determined to beat a proper apology out of the priest, and you, rather helplessly, grab at his shirt. He stops rigidly in his tracks when a pistol is pulled from Father Flamme’s back and aimed directly at him. Your gasp hitches at the back of your throat. Suddenly, the world is encased in a jar of molasses. You don’t see the bullet, but you hear it go off. The bang pierces the tranquility of the bathroom, lodging itself in your ears until they’re ringing. You drop to your knees and press your palms into your ears, squeezing your eyes shut. You hear your boyfriend collapse in a heap, but you don’t see the brain matter splatter against the wall.

It’s a clean shot, but just to be perfectly precise Rollo fires once more into his chest. Right at his heart. Chancing a glance at the wall behind you, you scream when you see the blood. Some of it has even managed to get on you, staining your skin and your white dress. Instinctively, you scramble away from the body, pressing yourself into the corner.

“May God have mercy on his soul,” he murmurs, ensuring the safety lock is flicked on before placing the gun on the counter. “And may He forgive these hands that have been soiled in the name of justice.”

You wrap your arms around yourself in a self-soothing hug and stare blankly ahead.

That…just happened. He killed your boyfriend. Father Rollo Flamme killed your boyfriend.

Water rushes into the basin next. He rolls his sleeves up. You listen to him as he washes his hands of sin, scrubbing it from his skin with scentless, antibacterial soap. Your stare falls upon the gun, but the idea is promptly burned away when you meet his frigid stare in the glass. He’s watching you, his lips pursed in a thin line. Not quite a frown, but not quite a smile either.

“It baffles me that you would allow a sinner to defile you like this. You, who are so good and pure, a noble heart… Ah, but you aren’t at fault. That despicable pest has been exterminated, so there’s no need to point fingers. The blame shall die with him.”

You sniffle, tears clouding your eyes.

“I apologize you had to see that.” He dries his hands and then, wetting a fresh towel with soap and warm water, kneels before you. “To have tainted you in that sinner’s blood… I implore your forgiveness.”

Gently, he dabs at the mess. You can’t back up any further, but you certainly try with this startling proximity, squirming uncomfortably when he drags his knuckle along your cheek.

“Why?” you whisper, utterly, indescribably haunted.

“Did you not hear me earlier?” He offers you a warm smile, but it only makes you feel cold. “I intend to love you chastely. His ‘love’ is worthless—nothing but lust disguised as pure adoration. He failed to appreciate you in life, and thus it is a failure he shall die, his ugly sin exposed for the world to behold.”

Father Flamme presses the cloth to your cheek next. Not to clean blood, but to wipe the tear streaks and the nonexistent mark of where his fingertips once lingered.

“I have saved you from that monster. It may not seem so at this moment, for you are a lost lamb blinded by devilish temptations, but you will realize later this was for the best.”

You can’t form the words. You can’t even form thoughts. It’s all static. 

“Do you understand, (Name)?”

You nod, but you really don’t.

ON A DARK, STORMY NIGHT.

You pace to and fro on the side of the road, clutching your stomach every fifteen seconds. Rain pelts your sweater, soaking through that and the little backpack hanging off of your shoulder with its single strap. There isn’t much inside. You could hardly pack it when your mother was in your ear, shouting a nasty set of lines: “You whorish, two-bit cunt! What do you think you’re doing, throwing away your life like this?! Who’s going to afford that parasite? Not me! Definitely not you! Not when you ought to be in school, not hopping on some man’s dick! Where is your shame?!”

Her slipper came down upon your arm, the back of your head, your neck, unrelenting in its whacks. You scrambled about in your room like a headless chicken, shielding your face and stomach when you could. She continued to berate you in that harsh, shrill tone of hers. Whenever your vision became blurred with tears, you had to hurry to blink them away so that they wouldn’t obscure your view of the path to the front door.

On your way out of your room, you managed to snatch an old sweater. She pursued in a furious flurry and this time you were sure, should she get a firm grasp on your arm, she’d kill you.

“Out! Out of my house!” she squawked when you stumbled down the steps in a blind panic. Rain wet your face, or maybe it was the tears. “You’re no child of mine. Don’t think about coming back here.”

The door was slammed so hard it shook in its frame.

So you gathered yourself, lifted your shirt to check the rounded dome of your stomach, and then pulled the sweater on over your head.

You walked. Past houses and storefronts, crossing busy streets, peering into the windows of a bar.

You walked. Under flickering lamp posts, through chilly rain, towards the edge of your broken world.

You walked. Until civilization gave way to sprawling darkness and trees. Until the path was muddied and slick. Until you were wading through thick, tall grass.

Now you walk up and down this strip of road, far from home and freezing-cold. You’re hungry, too. It’s been hours since the last car sped past, blissfully ignorant to your flailing arms and desperate shouts: “Wait! Please stop! Wait!”

You’re beginning to think you might die out here, alone and poor, a worthless nobody.

“Fuck,” you spit, wiping the tears/rain from your eyes. “Fuck!”

You kick a clump of grass onto the road and scream at the sky.

And then headlights roll over the hill, cutting through the gloom. Headlights that are attached to a car. A car!

Hope restored, you scurry onto the slick pavement and wave your arms about. When it seems like the car isn’t going to stop, you skitter onto the dirt path.

“Wait! Please wait!” you cry out, still gesturing wildly.

To your surprise and relief, the car eases to a stop just ahead and a window lowers slowly. It squeaks noisily, and you can hear the broken parts of the mechanism rattling inside the door. Happiness surges through you, and you approach the vehicle slowly. A figure comes into view, most of his face hidden in the shadows of his hood. He looks thoroughly soaked, as does the little boy snoozing in the passenger seat. He’s hugging a shovel in his sleep, a satisfied smile on his face. Both of them are clad in grimy, oversized raincoats. You think it’s dirt when you peer closely, but you’re not certain.

The man lifts his hand in greeting and you realize he’s wearing gloves.

“Well, hello there, little miss!” He flashes his teeth at you in a sharp, close-eyed smile. “Bit late to be out and about, don’tcha think?”

“I… I’m so sorry, but I desperately need a ride.”

A pair of brilliant orange eyes open to view you. He assesses you with a subtle once-over.

“A ride, you say? Hmm…” He strokes his chin with his hand, feigning deep thought. “Awfully unsafe for a lady to be wandering around in the dark.”

He could drive off any minute and you might never get a ride. You’re not sure how much longer you can last in this rain.

“I don’t have much money on me… I just… I really need to get out of this rain.” You cup the small bump hidden beneath your sweater and then flounder for the necklace around your throat. “I can give you this! A-And everything else in my bag. It’s not a lot, but maybe you can do something with it…”

The man raises a prominent eyebrow. The window is cracked just enough so he can look out at you, but you can’t reach in if you wanted to. Not that you would. Something about the filthy appearance of this man and his charismatic aura unsettles you. But he’s the second car you’ve seen tonight. The first car to have stopped for you. You can’t let this opportunity slip through your fingers no matter how suspicious he seems.

“What’s your name, little miss?”

“It’s (Name), sir. My mother kicked me out. I don’t have anywhere to go, but if you can just get me to the nearest shelter…”

He gazes through you rather than at you, his attention pinned on your stomach. A shadow passes over his face, but it’s quickly dispelled when he smiles.

“That doesn’t sound too difficult now, does it? I couldn’t possibly leave a little lady stranded in these elements. Why, anyone who would is simply heartless!” You hear the click of a lock. “Hop in. I’ll take you there.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!”

“Not at all. Thank you for stopping me. Otherwise I might’ve just passed you up.”

“I’m so grateful. I can’t thank you enough,” you confess, choking on your joy. You pull the door open and climb into the backseat. It’s very…messy, and it smells like smoke and wet earth and overall unpleasant things. Your nose wrinkles, but you remind yourself not to judge too scathingly. After all, you don’t look very neat yourself in your shabby sweater.

“You from around here?” the man asks once you’ve buckled in.

“Yes. Well, no. Um… I’m not sure how far from home I am.” You rub at your sore arms, teeth chattering. “I’ve j-just been walking all over, sir. U-Um… If I may, what’s your name?”

He scoffs lightheartedly, almost like it isn’t important. “I’m just an honest fellow trying to get home in this nasty weather.” This honest fellow indicates the boy beside him next. “It’s a bit of a drive and my little brother can’t quite stay up for the entirety of it. Kids, am I right? They think they’re stronger than the world with all of their confidence, but no one’s stronger than the inescapable call of sleep!”

You laugh into your hand, careful not to wake the boy. “I see. You must be coming back from a road trip then?”

“Precisely so, little miss. You’ve keen intuition.”

A comforting quiet blankets the inside of the car. You watch the trees pass while he drives. Eventually, they fall away to reveal a neighborhood you’ve never seen before. The houses are in disrepair, and everything looks grey. This isn’t where the shelter is, you realize, and your horror only multiplies when he turns down another road and parks in front of a decrepit-looking apartment complex.

“Time to wake up now.” He shakes the boy, who comes to with a few sleepy blinks. He notices you and smiles, waving with a flappy sleeve.

“Sir? Mr. Fellow—was it?—what is this place?” You shrink back into the car when he opens the door for you and offers his gloved hand.

“Why, this is the shelter!” He beams proudly. “Do you not see the windows? The roof? The shape of this lovely building? Clearly it is the shelter you’ve mentioned.”

“But this is…” Not that. Not the home I’m looking for. You hold your bag close to your chest and allow the honest fellow to help you out. The rain is but a soft pitter-patter now.

His hands fall upon your shoulders, trapping you in place. “What do you think, Gidel? I’d say this is better than any old shelter. Why, this is a glorious haven! As they say, a treasure is not yet treasure until it’s polished to a shine. Every gem is rough around the edges, wouldn’t you say so?”

The boy—Gidel—nods enthusiastically. You don’t trust him or the shovel he holds behind his back.

“Thank you for the ride. It was nice to meet both of you, but I can walk the rest of the way.”

“Nonsense! A lady should never walk alone at night. It’s much too dangerous.” He holds his hand over his heart and gasps dramatically. “My chest aches at the thought of it! What horrid beasts might lurk out there… You must allow us to show you just a pinch more of our hospitality. At least until this pesky rain abates.”

He smiles at you in a way that doesn’t give you a chance to get a word in. The car is shut and locked, and he twirls the key ring on his finger as he guides you towards the dingy building. Gidel hurries along after you, nodding in time with the honest fellow’s cheery humming.

MERRY.

Christmas music floods your brain, a loud, constant thrum of whimsical bells and chimes. The headphones are pulled from your person next, and suddenly a voice invades your pleasant dreams. Over and over, calling out to you…

“Sister…” A slight nudge. “Dearest sister of mine, please wake up…” A cold finger prods at your cheek.

Groaning, you shift in your sleep. The muscles in your face twitch with every persistent poke.

“(Name)?”

Your eyes peel open slowly, searching through the lamplight to find a pale face. “Huh… Mmh… What’s going on? Oh, it’s you, Skully. What’s wrong?”

He fidgets awkwardly where he stands. He almost looks like a real younger brother when he’s so restless, but his looming height is a reminder that he’s grown up just like you. With his gangly limbs, circular frames that sit crooked on his face, and unkempt bedhead with those troublesome strands that fluff up no matter how many times he smooths them down, he looks more like a deer caught in an oncoming car’s headlights.

You sit up in bed and rub the sleep from your eyes. “It’s way too early. The sun’s not even up yet! Why’re you awake?”

“I couldn’t possibly sleep,” he confesses, the words just spilling out, and he sounds ecstatically happy. “Not when Christmas is finally here. Aren’t you excited, Sister? Don’t you wish to see what Sandy Claws has brought us?”

Aren’t we a little old to believe in him still? you almost ask, but the question sticks in your throat when you notice the crimson speckled on Skully’s sweater vest. It stands out starkly against the white of his collared undershirt. Now you’re fully awake and worried. Very worried.

“Skully—”

“Come, come!”

He tugs at your arm, pulling the limp you from your bed. You allow yourself to be dragged like a ragdoll, led from the bedroom into the hall. The lights strung around the tree shine so brightly you can see their glow against the wall from the top of the stairs. His hand, cold and clammy, slides into yours. He’s always had a habit of clinging to you, of reaching for your hand, ever since the both of you were little. At your age now, it feels…weird. But his fingers are twining around yours and it’s impossible to pull away.

You descend the stairs with him and approach the sitting room. Dread pools in your stomach. You sniff at the air and choke on the acrid stench of iron.

“What is that?!” You pull your shirt up to your nose and attempt to yank away from him. “Skully, it smells gross.”

“No, it’s okay!” he assures, taking hold of your arm. A wobbly smile pulls his chapped lips apart. There’s a giddy mania spiraling in his orange eyes, and his voice lifts in pitch. His next words are spoken in a breathless ramble. “Just trust me. It’s a good gift. A great gift, really. You’ll see.”

You don’t want to see. Not when you spy a splash of liquid red staining the floor, peeking out at you from around the corner.

“Oh! Close your eyes. It’ll be a surprise!”

“Skully, I don’t want to. I… I don’t like surprises.”

“Oh, but this is a good one! I promise.” He squeezes your arm. “Please? You’ll like it.”

You doubt that, but his expression is so full of expectation that you give in with a sigh. Your eyes fall shut and Skully squeals in excitement.

“Wonderful! Allow me to escort you.” He sidles closer, his hands at your waist. “There… Just around this corner here. Oh, careful now. Watch your step.”

Your nostrils prickle at the intense smell. The path he leads you through is deliberate. You’re about to open your eyes, but then his large hands fall over them.

“Not yet! I haven’t done the count.” He inhales a steadying breath. It rattles in his throat. “O-Okay. One. Two… Three.” His fingers part and then the veil lifts. “Merry Christmas, Sister.”

Nothing could have prepared you for what you find lying in front of you. Amidst presents wrapped in glittering foils are the brutalized corpses of your parents. They’re sprawled in a smattering of blood. In fact, blood is everywhere—flecked on the curtains, on the few ornaments hanging from the lowest boughs of the tree, on the wallpaper. You’re not sure if you can even call such slaughter a simple murder. This was a slaying. An execution. You spy the deep gash carved into your mother’s throat and your hands fly to your own neck. A ghastly shriek pierces the air, practically torn from your lungs.

Skully flinches, panic twisting his kind, youthful features. “Oh! Oh, no, no! Don’t cry.” He takes hold of your head, sandwiching it between both of his hands—hands that so cruelly cut down your mother and his father. “Please don’t cry…”

“Oh, my… My God… You… Y-You killed them!”

You peek at your stepfather out of some stupid instinct to hope for the best, and another sob bubbles up when you realize he and your mother are truly dead. Unable to look upon such a grisly scene any longer, you stagger away and turn sharply on your heel. Bile tinges your tongue, but you quickly slap a hand over your mouth and swallow it down. Skully braces you before you can fall over, wrapping his long arms around you from behind.

“For you!” he insists. “I did it for you—for us, dearest sister! They… They were going to send me away. I couldn’t allow that! If we were to be separated… It would tear my heart apart.” He clutches you tighter as if you’re a teddy bear. “I tried to explain it to them—truly, I did—but they couldn’t understand. They wouldn’t understand. So I had to do it, (Name). I couldn’t allow them to send me away. You understand, don’t you?”

Gingerly, he wipes your tears away and then leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. When that doesn’t change anything, he frowns.

Seemingly inconsolable, you continue to bawl even though your throat is dry and your head is aching and your heart is hurting. He releases his hold on you enough for you to stumble away.

Ever the adamant one, Skully tries again. He takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips. You slide down the wall and he follows you, caging you in the corner.

“Dearest sister of mine, don’t cry…”

His hand cups your cheek next, and his thumb swipes at a stray tear.

“I’m here for you. Always.”

Your shadows are splayed against wallpaper striped with blood. His looms over yours, almost swallowing it whole. In green and red lights, your reflections caught in glass ornaments, Skully seals that promise with a press of his mouth to yours.

[glamourscat]

Literally love your Tim Drake works 🙏 so good to see him get some hype!!

Can I please request Tim Drake with Gn!reader teasing him about essentially being his sugar baby? Not using him obvi, but like as a broke college student myself, I know he would simply not be able to witness our conditions without stepping in. Idk if he's ever canonically gone to a dorm, but I think explaining the concept of having to wear a "shower shoe" to avoid communal shower fungus would be enough for him to just buy you an apartment for the next 4 years 😭 or looking in the fridge only to see the takeout box, bread, and ketchup combo cause groceries are toooo expensive 😭 The "damn bitch you live like this" meme personified

Sorry this became off-topic ramble-ly lol I just think it's funny how stressed he would be by his partner's early 20's ✨ broke era✨

a/n: when I tell I saw the request and immediately my fingers started writing😭 loved this! thank you so much, I hope it’s what you were looking for <3

cw: slightly suggestive towards the end

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“For the love of—babe?” Tim’s voice rang through your college dorm room.

You looked up from the bed where you were working on some assignments, meeting his eyes as he crouched near the mini-fridge under your desk.

“Yeah, hun?” you said, eyebrows furrowing.

“What in the actual hell is this?” he exclaimed, holding up a few boxes of Chinese takeout and random half-open sauce packets—most definitely “borrowed” from fast food joints and restaurants alike. His face was a mix of shock and genuine concern for you.

“Ah, yeah. That was my dinner yesterday, my lunch the day before yesterday, and my breakfast… yep,” you said casually, shrugging as you went back to your work.

After all, it’s not like you’re the only one in this situation. Sure, you would have preferred to eat a proper meal, but broke students have to survive somehow, right?

“Babe… you are seriously surviving off of scraps? This can barely keep you fed, not to mention the—” he stopped as he looked over at your desk. “Now what in the hell is this?” His voice was slightly high-pitched as he stared at the shower shoes on your desk that you had forgotten to put away before he came by.

“Those? You’ve really never seen shower shoes?” you said with a hint of an amused smile. “Those are shower shoes, Tim. I use them in the communal showers since we don’t have individual ones. To avoid getting shower fungus or athlete’s foot, ya know? Stuff like that.” Your words were so calm, so… like you were used to it.

Tim stared at you with his eyes almost bulging out of his skull, genuinely trying to make his last remaining brain cells understand how this way of living was even possible on college grounds. But more importantly, how the hell were you supposed to live like this for the next four years?

“Where are you going?” you asked, confused, seeing him rush to put his jacket on.

“Put your jacket on. We are going to look at apartments right now. I think I caught something just by thinking of you living here for the next four years, malnourished and worst of all, using communal showers. What if something happened to you? Yeah, fuck that, c’mon” he said frantically, almost dragging you out of your dorm by the hand as you tried not to laugh.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting—”

“No,” he cut you off. His expression was almost comical in how genuinely frantic he was. But, despite that, it was also cute seeing how much he cared for you.

“Tim, I know you’re concerned but, I mean—an apartment is a big thing. I—”

He stopped, turning you to face him in the empty hallway. His hands rested on your waist. “I have the money. You can’t live like this. Let me help my lover, okay? I will still do it, you know that. If not now I’ll gift you an apartment for Christmas since it’s around the corner.” His voice got lower. “Besides, we certainly can’t do anything in here, one moan from me—”

“TIM!” you said, flustered, a small embarrassed chuckle escaping your lips.

“What? It’s the truth. Everyone will be all up in our business…” he whined quietly as he got closer, his soft lips leaving a warm kiss on your neck.

“Besides—” he whispered in your ear, causing shivers to run down your spine, “I can’t sneak in with my Red Robin costume here. And you bet your ass I’m coming over after patrol so we can be together. Soooo, an apartment it is,” he hummed proudly, leaving another kiss, this time a soft peck on your lips. He pulled back with a soft smile that just made you want to squeeze his cheeks for how cute he looked.

“Still, I mean…” you sighed softly. “I feel like your sugar baby, hun,” you said half-jokingly.

“Yeah?” he said with a cheeky twinkle in his eye. “Then that just means I need to spoil my baby more. That’s the bare minimum I can do after all hmm?” He wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you close as you two walked off giggling to yourselves like fools, yes, but fools in love.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[lefteagleblizzard]

ℭ𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔞𝔠𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔱

Mike Schmidt x male reader

Summary: Life as a college student was hectic. You had always noticed Mike Schmidt, the quiet, brooding neighbor who lived just a few houses down. Though he was about five years older than you, that gap only fueled the intrigue and admiration you felt toward him. You admired the way he balanced his responsibilities, especially his care for his younger sister, Abby. Over the years, this admiration blossomed into a deep-seated crush that you couldn't quite shake off. Today, you finally got the chance to talk to him again after so much time due to you going to college.

Warnings: Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Fluff. Strangers/Friends to lovers. Smut at the end. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Reader being called “good boy”. Handjob (M receiving). Anal sex.

Words count: 5000

Part 2-Part 3-Part 4-Part 5-Part 6-Part 7-Part 8-Part 9-Part 10-Part 11

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

This is different from the usual gender-neutral stuff I write, and I’m sorry to those who are used to them. I’m just so sad about never being able to find a male reader story, something that I can relate to. Your support and understanding mean a lot to me!

You had always noticed Mike Schmidt, the quiet, brooding neighbor who lived just a few houses down. Though he was about five years older than you, that gap only fueled the intrigue and admiration you felt toward him.

Over the years, you often saw him in the mornings when he returned from work, his expression weary but softened when he exchanged a word or two with your father.

Those fleeting moments were enough to plant a growing crush in your heart, a mix of admiration and something deeper you couldn't quite name.

One crisp morning, as you grabbed your backpack, ready to head out to college, you ran into him.

Literally.

You were in such a rush that you barely noticed him until you bumped into his solid frame on the sidewalk.

"Whoa, sorry about that," he chuckled, a warm sound that made your heart race. His hazel eyes, always a bit shadowed with fatigue, brightening just a little at the sight of you.

His hair was slightly tousled, and there was a shadow of stubble on his chin, which somehow made him even more attractive.

The sight of him made your heart skip a beat, a reaction you were becoming increasingly familiar with but were still not quite used to.

You felt your cheeks heat up, embarrassed by your clumsiness but secretly thrilled to be talking to him. "You're in a hurry, aren't you?"

His voice was deep and warm, like a comforting blanket after a long day.

You laughed nervously, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, running late as usual. What about you? Just getting back from work?"

"Yeah," he replied, scratching the back of his neck in a way you found endearing. His movements were tired yet graceful, revealing the strain of long nights but also a quiet resilience you admired. "Long night, But hey, it's good to finally bump into you —literally."

"You're looking... good." You regretted your choice of words almost immediately, feeling your face flush with embarrassment.

Mike chuckled softly, the sound warm and comforting, as if he was genuinely pleased by your compliment. "Thanks. You look great too. College must be treating you well."

"Thanks," you murmured, trying to hide your blush and not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of him.

"The usual chaos. It's busy, but I'm hanging in there. I guess I'm learning a lot, though some days it feels more like I'm just trying to survive."

He chuckled, nodding knowingly. "Sounds about right. I remember those days, even if they were a bit short-lived for me. Dropping out to take care of Abby was the right choice, but sometimes I wonder what it would've been like to finish."

The way he spoke, his voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and acceptance, made your heart ache. You admired him for the sacrifices he made. "You did what you had to do. Abby's lucky to have you looking out for her."

You stood there, both hesitant yet unwilling to end the conversation. It had been a while since you'd last talked. Life, college, and his busy schedule made these interactions rare. But when they happened, they were the highlight of your week. There was a warmth to his presence, a comforting steadiness that contrasted with the chaos of your daily life.

"So, how's Abby doing?" you asked, shifting the weight of your backpack on your shoulder. You knew how much she meant to him and how hard he fought to keep her happy and safe.

"She's great," Mike said, a genuine smile breaking through his usual guarded demeanor. His eyes softened, a hint of pride and affection in them. "Growing up way too fast, though. She actually asked about you the other day.

The idea that Abby remembered you, even though you'd only met a few times, warmed your heart. You tried to picture her as you remembered-a bright, inquisitive little girl who could light up a room with her laughter. "That's sweet. I should stop by more often."

"Yeah, you should," he replied, a glint in his beautiful hazel eyes that made your heart skip a beat. There was something earnest in his tone, something that suggested he wouldn't mind having you around more often. "She misses having someone around who doesn't mind her endless questions."

"I don't mind at all," you said quickly, realizing how eager you sounded. "In fact, I like talking to her. She's a really smart kid."

"She is," Mike agreed, his expression softening further.

"And you?" The question slipped out before you could stop it. "How are things going with... you know, the custody stuff?"

A shadow crossed his face, and you regretted bringing it up. You watched as his shoulders tensed slightly, and the easy smile slipped a notch.

"It's... it's been tough. My aunt's not making it any easier," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. There was a pause, a moment of shared understanding of the challenges he faced. You admired his strength, how he continued to push forward despite everything.

Your temper flared at the thought of the obstacles thrown his way. "That woman is just-" You caught yourself, but not before an unsavory word slipped out.

You covered your mouth, horrified, but Mike just laughed, a sound that was more soothing than you'd anticipated.

"You're not wrong," he said, his laughter fading into a soft smile. "But it's nice to know someone's on my side. You're cute when you're mad, you know that?"

The compliment caught you off guard, heat rushing to your cheeks. You tried to brush it off with a smile, but inside, you were glowing. He noticed, of course, but chose to let it slide.

"Well, I just... I hope things work out for you, Mike. You deserve that."

His gaze lingered on you, something unreadable in his eyes. You wondered what he saw when he looked at you and if he could sense the emotions you tried so hard to keep under wraps.

"Thanks. It means a lot coming from you" Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he added, "I need to find a new babysitter for Abby. The last one quit because, well, I can't really afford much right now."

Without thinking, you blurted out, "I could do it!" you offered eagerly, almost too quickly, the words spilling out before you had a chance to reconsider.

The offer hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you worried you'd overstepped.

But you couldn't help it. The thought of spending more time with him, getting to know him and Abby better, was too enticing to pass up.

Mike studied you, his expression softening. His eyes held a mix of surprise and gratitude, and you noticed how his lips curved up slightly at the edges, almost as if he was trying not to show too much emotion. "You'd really do that?"

"Of course," you replied, trying to sound casual despite the hammering of your heart. "I mean, I have some free time, and honestly, my college roommate is loud and annoying. Plus, I'd love to help."

He smiled, and it reached his eyes this time. There was a warmth there that seemed to envelop you, drawing you in. "That'd be great. I can't promise much in terms of payment, though."

"Don't worry about it," you said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'd be happy to help. It's not about the money. I'd love to help out, really. I've missed seeing you guys around."

Your heart pounded in your chest, both from the rush of making the offer and from the hope that he would accept.

The way he looked at you then, with a mixture of gratitude and something else— something hopeful—made you believe this was the start of something more.

You felt your heart flutter, a thrilling sensation that made you wonder if maybe he felt something too. "You're really something," he said softly, almost to himself.

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant even as your heart soared. "Just trying to do what I can."

"Well, thanks. Really," he said, his voice earnest. "It's nice to see you again after so long.

You nodded, feeling warmth spread through you at his words. "Yeah, it's good to see you to, Mike."

As you both parted ways, you couldn't help but glance back over your shoulder Mike was doing the same, and when your eyes met, he waved. You waved back, feeling a flutter of excitement.

This new arrangement was more than just a job; it was a chance to see him, to learn more about the man who had quietly captured your heart. And maybe, just maybe, it was the beginning of something that could change both your lives for the better.

As you walked away, your mind replayed the conversation. You noticed how Mike seemed to pay close attention to your words, how he listened intently as if every word mattered. It was a rare quality, one that made you feel truly seen and heard. You couldn't help but wonder if there was more beneath the surface of his smiles and laughter, if perhaps he harbored feelings that mirrored your own

Mike's presence lingered with you throughout the day, the memory of his rare smile and warm gaze etched into your thoughts. You found yourself imagining the moments you would share while babysitting Abby, the possibility of spending more time with Mike, getting to know him on a deeper level.

As you reached campus with a heart full of excitement and a mind brimming with thoughts of Mike, you headed into the day, eager for what the future might hold.

The first day of babysitting Abby was a mix of nerves and excitement. As you approached Mike's modest home, a cozy littie house with a well-kept garden, you couldn't help but feel a rush of anticipation and a bit of anxiety. You wanted to make a good impression and hoped that Abby would like you as much as you liked her brother.

Abby greeted you at the door, her eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of shyness. She was a bright, energetic girl with dark hair and a mischievous grin that reminded you so much of Mike. Her presence was immediately infectious, and you felt any lingering anxiety melt away.

"Hi, Abby! I'm here to hang out with you while your brother's at work. How does that sound?" you asked, bending down to her level, hoping to convey friendliness and approachability.

She nodded, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm as if she had been eagerly anticipating your arrival. "Okay! Can we play with my toys?" Her excitement was palpable, and it was impossible not to be drawn into her world.

"Of course," you replied, smiling as she grabbed your hand and pulled you inside with a surprising amount of strength for such a small person. You were grateful for her enthusiasm, feeling your own spirits lift at the prospect of spending the day with her.

The hours flew by as you played games, read stories, and even painted together. Abby had a vivid imagination, and you found it easy to connect with her. She was talkative, often sharing stories about her day and asking about yours.

Her innocence and curiosity were refreshing, a welcome escape from the complexities of adult life.

"Do you like my brother?" Abby asked innocently, her eyes wide with curiosity as you helped her with her coloring book. Her question caught you off guard, and you felt a blush creeping up your neck.

"I think your brother is a really great person," you said carefully, hoping to dodge the deeper implications of her question. You didn't want to make things awkward or too serious.

She giggled, a knowing look in her eyes that made you wonder just how much she picked up on. "He likes you too. He talks about you sometimes" Her words sent a jolt through you, a mix of excitement and hope that you struggled to keep under control.

Your heart skipped a beat at her words.

Unbeknownst to you, Mike had returned home earlier than expected. He needed to grab some pills he'd forgotten and thought he'd quickly check in on how things were going. As he stepped inside, he heard the sound of Abby's laughter echoing through the house, drawing him toward the living room.

Peeking inside, Mike found you and Abby sprawled on the floor, surrounded by crayons and papers.

Abby was in the middle of telling a story, using her drawings as illustrations, her eyes alight with creativity. You listened intently, encouraging her with nods and comments, clearly engrossed in her imaginative tale.

For a moment, Mike simply stood there, watching the scene unfold before him. His heart swelled with warmth and admiration as he saw the joy on Abby's face, the ease with which you interacted with her. It was a sight he hadn't realized he longed to see, and it stirred something deep within him.

Seeing you there, so effortlessly connecting with Abby, made him fall even more in love with you. It wasn't just your kindness or the way you made Abby laugh, it was the way you seemed to understand her, to know exactly how to make her feel valued and cherished.

Mike cleared his throat, stepping into the room. "Looks like you two are having fun."

You looked up, surprised but pleased to see him. "Hey, Mike. We're just finishing up Abby's latest masterpiece."

Abby beamed at her brother, waving her drawing triumphantly. "Look what we made!”

He approached, crouching beside you to examine the masterpiece. "I love it.”

Abby beamed, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at her joy. "We make a good duo," you agreed, catching Mike's eye. There was something in his gaze, a warmth and appreciation that made your heart flutter.

"Thanks for today," Mike said, his voice low enough for only you to hear. "It means a lot to see her so happy"

"It was my pleasure," you replied, feeling your cheeks heat up under his scrutiny. "She's a wonderful kid."

As the days turned into weeks, your bond with both Abby and Mike deepened. You found yourself looking forward to each visit, eager to spend time with Abby and, more secretly, to see Mike. He was kind, patient, and had a dry sense of humor that often caught you off guard and made you laugh until your sides hurt.

Abby quickly became a friend, often sharing her thoughts and ideas with you. "Do you want to see my drawing?" she'd ask, holding up a colorful sketch that she'd made with all the innocence and creativity of a child.

"Wow, Abby, that's amazing!" you'd respond, genuinely impressed by her creativity. "You've got a real talent." Her pride in her work was infectious, and you felt a deep sense of fulfillment knowing you were making a positive impact in her life, fostering her confidence and creativity.

Meanwhile, your interactions with Mike grew more frequent and meaningful. Sometimes, after Abby had gone to bed, you and Mike would sit in the living room, sharing a beer or a cup of tea, discussing everything from music to movies to life's challenges. These moments became the highlight of your day, a chance to unwind and connect on a deeper level.

One evening, as you settled onto the couch after a long day, Mike handed you a steaming mug of tea, his fingers brushing yours briefly. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you wondered if he felt it too. Your heart skipped a beat at the possibility, and you felt a warmth spreading through your chest.

"You're really easy to talk to," Mike said, his voice sincere, cutting through the quiet hum of the room. "I don't get that a lot." His admission made your heart swell, knowing that you were someone he felt comfortable with, someone he valued.

"I feel the same way, Mike," you admitted, feeling a warmth in your chest that was becoming all too familiar. "It's nice having someone who gets me and doesn't think I'm weird for my horror movie obsession."

You wanted him to know that you felt a connection, a shared understanding that was rare and precious.

He chuckled, shaking his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I think it's cool. Most people just give me funny looks when I tell them I enjoy those films." His smile was infectious, and you couldn't help but smile back, feeling a sense of camaraderie and mutual understanding.

"Then they're missing out," you said, a smile playing on your lips, enjoying the banter and the ease with which you could share these moments with him.

You found yourself opening up to Mike in ways you hadn't with anyone else, revealing dreams and fears that you usually kept hidden.

There was a trust between you, a sense of safety that encouraged honesty and vulnerability.

"I always wanted to be a writer," you confessed one night, surprised by your own admission. The words felt heavy and significant, a part of yourself that you hadn't shared with many people. "But I don't know if I'm good enough."

Mike looked at you thoughtfully, his gaze steady and encouraging, as if he could see the potential within you. "I think you'd be great. You have a way with words, and you see things differently. That's a gift." His words filled you with a warmth that lingered long after the evening had ended, a validation that resonated deeply with you.

You often caught yourself daydreaming about him, replaying conversations and imagining what it might be like to tell him how you really felt.

The movie you've found online and that you were currently watching, an old, obscure horror film, played on his TV. The film was terrible, with laughable special effects and wooden acting, but it provided ample opportunity for humor.

You tried to focus on the movie, but you found yourself constantly distracted by Mike. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the sound of his chuckle, and the way he seemed genuinely relaxed in your presence made you feel special and welcomed.

"There's something about these films that just never gets old," Mike said, his eyes still glued to the screen as a particularly ridiculous scene unfolded. "I mean, look at that monster. It looks like it was made from papier-mâché. Did they really think that scene would be scary?" Mike chuckled, shaking his head. His laughter was contagious, a sound that filled the room with warmth and lightened the weight of the day.

"Right?" you replied, though your focus was more on him than the film. You watched the way his smile lingered, the subtle way his body leaned toward you as if drawn by an invisible force.

You were lost in thought, contemplating the words that had been on the tip of your tongue for weeks. Watching him enjoy himself, knowing that you were part of the reason he could unwind, filled you with a sense of pride and affection that was hard to ignore.

"There's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice steady but your heart racing. The words were heavy on your tongue, but you knew it was time to speak your truth.

His expression shifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He sensed the seriousness of your tone and straightened, giving you his full attention.

"What's on your mind?" His voice was calm and steady, a reassurance that made the confession feel a little less daunting.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage and pushing past the fear of rejection. "I really like spending time with you, Mike. And not just as a friend. I've felt this way for a while now." The admission hung in the air between you, a truth that couldn't be taken back.

For a moment, Mike looked at you with wide eyes, clearly caught off guard by your confession, His initial surprise was evident, and you could see the conflict playing out in his mind. He opened his mouth to speak but seemed to struggle to find the right words.

His thoughts were a jumble of emotions and concerns. The age difference between you, Abby, and his financial struggles weighed heavily on him. He didn't want you to feel tied to him, not because he didn't feel anything for you, but because he knew he couldn't give you everything you deserved.

"... I didn't expect this," he finally said, his voice laced with uncertainty. "I care about you a lot, but... it's complicated. You're younger than me. I have a lot of responsibilities with Abby and work. There's a lot I can't give you, and I don't want you to feel stuck because of me. You deserve better" His words were hesitant, filled with an internal struggle that made your heart ache for him.

You understood his hesitation, could see the conflict in his eyes, but you also saw the way he looked at you, the warmth and affection that couldn't be hidden. It was enough to give you hope, to make you want to show him that you didn't care about the obstacles, only about him.

Gently, you moved closer to him, closing the space between you. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he seemed frozen, waiting to see what you would do next.

Reaching up, you cupped his cheek with your hand, feeling the roughness of his stubble against your palm. "I just want to be here with you." Your voice was soft but firm, a quiet promise of your intentions.

Then, slowly, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. It was a gentle, tentative kiss, one that held all the feelings you hadn't been able to put into words. For a moment, Mike seemed surprised, his body tensing at the unexpectedness of it all. But then, he melted into the kiss, his hesitation giving way to something deeper.

His hand found your waist, his fingers tightening slightly as he pulled you closer, closing any remaining distance between you.

The kiss was slow and tender, a shared moment that spoke volumes about what words couldn't convey.

You felt him relax against you, his internal conflicts momentarily forgotten as you both gave in to the feelings you had been harboring for so long.

His other hand reached up to gently cradle your head, deepening the kiss as he finally allowed himself to accept what was between you.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and heart racing, you looked into his eyes and saw the worry and doubt had been replaced by something softer and more hopeful.

"Well, that was unexpected," Mike said softly, breaking the silence. His voice was a gentle rumble, carrying a hint of wonder and disbelief.

"In a good way, I hope?" you replied, your own voice barely above a whisper.

"In a very good way," he assured you, his lips curving into a smile that sent a flutter of joy through you.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," you admitted, a small smile playing on your lips as you stayed close, unwilling to let the moment end.

"Me too," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "l'm still scared about what this means, but I know I don't want to lose what we have."

You leaned in closer, feeling his breath mingle with yours, and captured his lips in another kiss. This one was softer, more lingering, a gentle exploration of the connection between you. It was a silent affirmation of the feelings you both shared, a testament to the bond that had grown between you over time.

You felt his hands slide up your back, pulling you even closer, while you wrapped your arms around his neck, reveling in the warmth and security of his embrace. The kiss deepened, and you lost yourself in the sensation of being so close to him, of sharing in this moment of intimacy and understanding.

A soft sound escaped your lips, a quiet sigh of contentment, and you felt him smile against your mouth. There was a playfulness to his touch now, a sense of joy that mirrored your own.

"Shh," he whispered teasingly, pulling back slightly, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Mike's lips moved against yours with a growing urgency, his own quiet moans mingling with yours. He tried to keep quiet, pressing soft kisses against your lips to muffle your own sounds, though the effort only served to heighten the sensation, a delicious tension that wound tighter with each passing moment.

His efforts to remain quiet were punctuated by low, throaty grunts, each one a reminder of the passion that simmered between you.

The quiet of the room was punctuated by soft gasps and whispered names, a symphony of affection that crescendoed in perfect harmony.

With a gentle tug, he guided you onto his lap, his touch firm yet careful, as if handling something both precious and fragile. The movement was fluid, instinctive, a seamless continuation of the magnetic pull that had drawn you together on the porch. Your knees settled on either side of him, bringing you chest to chest, your faces inches apart. The heat of his body seeped through your clothes, a tangible reminder of the passion simmering just beneath the surface.

His hands found their place on your legs, fingers splayed to support and explore, tracing slow, deliberate paths along the fabric that covered your skin. It was as though he sought to memorize every contour, every curve, feeding the curiosity that had lingered in the recesses of his mind for years wondering how it would feel to finally hold you close.

You leaned in, capturing his lips with yours in a kiss that was both tender and insistent, a mingling of breath and heartbeat that spoke of shared longing and mutual surrender. The world outside faded further into oblivion, leaving only the two of you entwined in a dance of exploration and affection.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring with a curiosity that had been held in check for too long. The sensation was intoxicating, a dance of intimacy that spoke of all the moments he had wondered, all the times he had imagined what it would be like to taste you.

Mike's quiet grunts of pleasure were a symphony to your ears. You could sense the tension in him, the effort it took to maintain control even as his own desires threatened to overwhelm him.

His fingers brushed over your back, tracing the line of your spine, before moving to explore the curve of your waist and the strength of your thighs.

You mirrored his exploration, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, feeling the tension and release of muscle beneath your touch. Your fingers traveled to his neck, threading through his hair, drawing him even closer as the kiss became more fervent. It was a symphony of sensation-a blending of warmth, breath, and the gentle hum of shared affection that enveloped you both.

It was as if time itself had slowed, allowing you to savor each second, each heartbeat, as you became one in a language unspoken yet deeply understood.

His hands were slowly gliding all over your hips and lower back now, and they eventually made their way down to rest on your ass.

He squeezed, causing you to grind down against him and you moaned. You started prepping with kisses on his face, his stumble scratching your lips occasionally. Mike groaned in response, his eyes fluttering shut for a minute. You began a slow rhythm of rocking your hips against him, his head falling back to rest on the back of the couch.

"Good boy," Mike murmured against your lips, his voice a low, soothing rumble that vibrated through you. It sent a shiver down your spine, your heart swelling in response to the intimacy of the moment.

Mike's hands, confident yet gentle, found their way beneath the hem of your shirt, a silent question hanging in the air as his fingers brushed against bare skin. You nodded, granting permission. The fabric lifted, sliding over your skin with a whisper, leaving you vulnerable and exposed, yet utterly safe in his embrace.

His touch was electrifying, a gentle exploration of the expanse of your chest, the warmth of his hands grounding and exhilarating all at once.

You leaned up and captured Mike’s lips again in a bruising kiss, moaning into his mouth. His hips bucking up into yours as you quickened the movement of your hips against his.

He was trying to pull you even closer against his body to increase the friction between the two of you as much as possible.

He began peppering open-mouthed kisses all over your chest and collarbones. You sighed, and laced your fingers in his hair, relishing in the feeling of his lips all over you.

He began sucking on one of your nipples, moving one of his hands to play with your other, which earned him a suppressed moan from you and caused you to throw your head back. You tugged on his hair, and it only seemed to make him even more enthusiastic with his movements.

He suddenly stood up, moving his arms to hold onto you tightly as you gasped, but landed back onto the couch almost instantly. You were now laying on your back and still looking up at him as Mike reached to pull his gray shirt off.

He was so handsome.

He began undoing his belt and the button to his jeans, pushing them down his legs. He kicked the jeans off and kneeled down, placing a hand on your thigh and looking at you.

“Can I?” he asked. You didn’t waste a second nodding your head, and you watched as he took his time to pull off your jeans and underwear, throwing them onto the floor beside his own discarded clothes.

Mike didn’t take his eyes off of you for a single second, wanting to admire the sight of you and he moved so that he was now on top of you. He now had you pinned down against the couch cushion, and you felt your own heartbeat inside your eardrums.

He leaned down to kiss you again, his enthusiasm from earlier returning as he deepened the kiss instantly.

He shifted slightly, reaching over to a small drawer built into the side table next to the couch. You watched curiously as he pulled out a small bottle of lube. The position was a bit awkward, and you couldn't help but give him a puzzled look, wondering why it was there instead of in his room.

Mike caught your expression and stuttered slightly, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. "Uh, well, I keep it here because of Abby. She tends to rummage around my room looking for toys or paper to draw on."

You giggled at the thought, imagining Abby innocently sifting through Mike's things, completely unaware of what she might find. "That makes sense," you said with a smile, amused by his predicament.

He chuckled along with you, the tension in the air dissolving into something more playful and intimate. With a deft motion, he flicked open the cap of the bottle and poured a small amount onto his fingers, his movements careful and deliberate.

You watched, fascinated, as he spread the substance between his fingers, his focus returning to you with a renewed intensity. There was something thrilling about the trust and care in his actions, a silent promise that you were in good hands.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked softly, his gaze steady and reassuring.

You nodded, feeling your heart race with anticipation and excitement. "Absolutely" you replied, meeting his eyes with unwavering confidence.

His hand slowly trailed from its place at your side, down your hip before moving it to the space between your thighs. You gasped slightly when you felt his touch on your dick, causing fireworks to set off all throughout your body.

You moaned into his mouth now that Mike was touching you exactly where you needed him and he picked up the pace, pumping you as you began to let out soft moans at his touch. He flicks his finger over your tip, which was now leaking profusely.

Your hand returned itself to tangle in his hair while your other made its way to his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He questioned, and you could’ve swore he was smirking against your lips.

You whined and nodded slightly. You had very little control over your reactions at this point, and Mike was well aware of this. He quickened his pace once again, and you were beginning to squirm underneath him.

It seemed like he was having a lot of fun at this point, amused by all of the reactions he was dragging out of you. You weren’t sure how this could get any better when he had maneuvered his hand lower, beginning to thrust his middle finger deep into your hole.

Another loud moan, muffled by your own hand, escaped your lips and you squeezed your eyes shut at the sensation, clenching your thighs together around his hand.

He pulled his head away and began biting your jaw, sucking hard enough that it will definitely leave a mark tomorrow, but you were too focused on his finger moving inside of you to care.

Mike then added his ring finger and you whined loudly, tugging on his hair. He let out a groan, and began fucking you faster, causing you to come into his hand, and onto your stomach.

Your back arching off of the couch and your fingers digging into his shoulder, but he didn’t seem to mind one bit.

He was only focused on you, and he would do anything to indulge you at the moment. He pulled his fingers out of you after riding out your climax and shifted above you a bit. Your entire body flooded with warmth and you were panting.

Your recovery was cut short by Mike grinding into you, the length of his cock rubbing against you.

A soft, involuntary groan escaped his lips, signaling his turn.

He pulled back to look at you and his expression was questioning, waiting for an answer before going further with anything.

You whimpered out a small please and that was all it took before he was slowly sinking his cock inside of you.

He threw his head back and groaned, his cock twitching inside of you. You whined at the feeling and bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. He slowly bottomed out inside of you and kept still, Pausing to admire you, lost in your serene, blissed-out state, like a masterpiece in a moment of pure tranquility before he began thrusting into you.

“You gonna be a good boy for me?” He groaned out, leaning his head down to speak directly into your ear.

Your eyes shot open when you heard him, whimpering and quickly nodding your head, you were unable to speak, all you that was coming out of your mouth were the most pathetic whines, whimpers, and pants. Hearing him talk like this made you clench around him, which in turn caused him to slam into you faster.

“All mine, every bit of you,” he declared, his words sending shivers down your spine. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, trying to stifle any more sounds that might escape

You wrapped your legs around his hips, your body bouncing each time he thrusted into you, each time even harder than the last.

You and Mike were drenched in sweat, looking like you just conquered an epic adventure.

Your back was continuously arched off of the couch as he kept railing into you.

Your entire body was tingling with pleasure, and you knew you could get addicted to this feeling.

Mike slamming into you at just the right angle, the feeling of his body moving against yours, and before you knew it, Mike had reached his hand down between your bodies to begin stroking faster and faster, and each time a new sound came from your mouth, devoured from his own mouth.

You were officially done for after that. It was all too much, but it was so, so good.

“Please cum for me, my sweet boy. C’mon.” Mike gritted out, and that was all you had needed to hear.

You clenched around Mike’s cock and you came, your eyes rolling on the back of your head. All you could do while riding out your orgasam was squirm from the overstimulation, Mike still pounding into you as he was chasing his own orgasm.

Feeling the tightness of your body, he couldn't hold back any longer, his own release spurting deep within you.

Mike, who had been resting on top of you, shifted to lie beside you, the couch barely wide enough to accommodate both of you. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, a mirror to your own breaths as you both began to calm in the quiet aftermath

Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, the reality of what had just transpired between you and Mike barely beginning to settle in. It felt surreal, like a dream spun from the depths of your imagination, and yet the solid warmth of Mike beside you was a comforting reminder that it had indeed happened.

As you lay there, lost in your thoughts, you felt a gentle nudge against your cheek. Mike was nuzzling you, his stubble a rough but comforting texture against your skin. The affectionate gesture pulled you back to the present, grounding you in the moment and dispelling any lingering disbelief.

He turned his head slightly, capturing your lips in a quick, tender kiss that spoke of both contentment and lingering desire. When he pulled back, a hint of shyness flickered in his eyes, an endearing contrast to the confidence he had shown just moments before.

"Hey," he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper in the quiet room. "Do you want to sleep in the bed with me? The couch isn't exactly comfortable for the night."

His invitation caught you off guard, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the lingering heat from earlier. A smile broke across your face, broad and genuine, as you nodded, the simple gesture carrying a weight of unspoken emotion.

"I'd like that," you replied, your voice infused with a joy that you couldn't hide even if you wanted to.

Note: If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3. Next on the list is a Josh Futturman fic from a request on wattpad.

[reidmania]

hi!! i saw you taking request so here is an idea :)

fem!reader and spencer in an established relationship and they really love each other but they get into a fight. they both say things they dont mean so reader rushes out and while driving away she feels sorry and calls spencer but it goes to voicemail. she starts to send him one saying how sorry she is and that she loves him but is cut off with a loud crash. spencer gets the voicemail and hears about her car accident and rushes to hospital, you can end it however you want hahah. im sorry if this is too much but i feel like you are the only one who can do justice to this <33

guilt ridden | spencer reid

summary ; reader and spencer get into a silly argument that ends in hospital trips and a lot of apologises.

warnings; fem reader, established relationships, arguments, cm things, car accidents and hospitals, arguments, spencer being an ass and reader also being an ass which is all forgotten when things get serious, kinda rushed. angst, happish ending, hurt x comfort kindaish.

an; im sorry this took me so long and im sorry if its horrible. i really just wanted to get this one out of the way bc i rlly enjoyed the idea!!

“I’m sorry, I’ll be back in the morning at some point so I don’t want you to worry and I know you will probably be pissed right now and that okay— You should be. I am too, but I am sorry. I didn’t mean it — I shouldn’t have said it but it was just, in the moment I wasn’t thinking.. Im sorry Spence. I love—”

There was the sound of a gasp, then a bang and then it was silent for a minute until the voice message ended itself. The sound sent goosebumps along Spencer’s arms and sweat to build up over the back of his neck as anxiety made its bed in his stomach.

His entire body went cold as he stood in the kitchen — The same place he had been standing when the stupid argument took place before you grabbed your keys and walked out, muttering how if he was that sick of you, you’d get out of his way before the door slammed behind you.

He had thought about following you and telling you to stay but in the moment he was just angry. So angry. Not even entirely at you, just everything.

He had just gotten home from a case after being away for a week — a case where they couldn’t save the victims. It was one that affected Spencer more than he wanted to admit, all he wanted was to come home and shower.

Then he got home and you immediately hugged him and rambled on about how you missed him and normally — any other time he would adore the feeling of your arms around him, he would breathe in your scent and breath it back out before going on about the case.

This time was different, everything was too much. The grasp of your arms made his body tense rather than relax, your scent was suffocating mixed with the smell of the food on the stove and the candle lit in the living room. It was all just too much.

Not because it was you, there was nothing wrong with you. It was just the day built up, and it was too much for him.

So he pushed you away and began his way to the bedroom wordlessly, where he showered, and eventually came back a little more relaxed — only now you were the one in the bad mood.

Which ended in an argument between the two of you, you called him childish and immature, he called you suffocating and needy.

Neither of you meant it.

But that didn’t stop the hurt that seeped in and the tension that grew between the two of you. Until you were shaking your head telling him to go fuck himself, grabbing your keys and walking towards the front door.

Spencer regretted his words almost immediately when the door slammed shut and didn’t open again. He didn’t mean it but he couldn’t bring himself to follow you yet — he needed to calm down and he was sure you did as well.

He didn’t ignore your call, not on purpose. He was unpacking his stuff when his phone rang from where he had left it in the kitchen. Finding it ten minutes later to hear the voice mail you left, well he had never felt a more intense ache in his chest.

Something was wrong, seriously wrong. He tried calling again and again to no avail as the call went straight to voicemail every-time. He texted you as well.

He was in his car moments later, driving to the nearest hospital because if you were anywhere — it would be there. He heard the ambulance sirens on the way and they did nothing but build the tension in between his muscle and bones.

It wasn’t until an hour later of waiting and pacing around in the hospital waiting room that someone came to tell him that you were here — stable, but in a lot of pain.

He had never felt something like this. Every bit of his mind went blank as walked fast towards the room the nurse had directed him to. His knees felt like jelly and he felt sick to his stomach.

That sick didn’t compare to the one he felt when he saw you lying in the hospital bed, fading in and out of consciousness, a doctor by your side. You were bruised and bloodied and Spencer didn’t think he could stand for another minute as his legs carried him towards the chair next to your bed.

“Honey.” His voice came out a gasp.

But all the same concerned and guilty. Your head turned slightly towards the sound of his voice and he was almost sure his heart broke at the sound of pain that left your lips when moving.

“Spence” You were hardly audible, voice small and so quiet, full of hurt. Genuine pain, you were in genuine pain that you wouldn’t have been in if Spencer had just pulled his head in and didn’t act like an absolute idiot.

It was hard to think about the argument now, how it felt like everything at the time and nothing now. His hand reached out for yours as he tried to ignore the tears that burned in the back of his eyes.

“Im so sorry” He mumbled out. It didn’t even begin to describe the amount of guilt he felt burnt into his stomach, and every inch of his body. He felt sick to his stomach and was almost sure he was going to throw up. “Im so sorry- God Im sorry” He couldn’t help the series of apologies that streamed from his lips, still they didn’t even slightly cover the blame he took in his mind.

“Spence” You said again, almost as if you were unable to say or think about anything else. Despite the pain medication that you had been given — everything hurt.

“Im right here— Im right here.” He repeated, moving the chair in closer, he saw a soft sigh leave your lips despite it being so quiet he couldn’t hear it. He saw your eyes closed and for a moment he genuinely felt his heart break and drop, until they opened again.

You squeeze his hand slightly, it was soft and gentle, all the energy you could muster up put into doing so. “I know. Im sorry” You apologised and it hurt Spencer.

It genuinely made him feel pain in his stomach that you were lying in a hospital bed in an abundance of pain and yet — apologising to him for an argument that seemed so insignificant now.

“Don’t.” Spencer shook his head.

“Don’t apologise, I was an ass— I deserved it. you- You didn’t deserve this. God please don’t apologise.” He almost begged.

The words died on your tongue. Whatever you were going to say now a second thought as you realised Spencer was going to drive himself insane with the guilt and blame of this.

“Its not your fault.” You huffed out.

It was enough to sooth a small part of Spencer’s mind, your voice outweighing the one in his head that held him responsible. Your comfort the one he needed. His hand squeezed yours back.

“I love you — So much. You aren’t suffocating or needy in the slightest.” He felt the need to let you know. God if something happened to you and the last thing you’d heard him say was that he thought you were something— anything other than the most important person in his life and the one who he turned to for everything, the one person he truly loved and adored

Well he would never forgive himself

“I love you” You muttered back weekly, shuffling over on the hospital bed despite the pain that coursed through your body in doing so you made room for him. “Lay with me?” You asked.

He huffed something out before shaking his head, standing up and lowering himself onto the hospital bed. He was careful of your injuries and any pain you may be in as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I love you” He repeated as he placed a soft kiss on the corner of your shoulder. It made a sigh leave your lips, before turning your head to face him.

“I love you.”

[moonstruckme]

hi ml, wondering if you’d be able to do poly!marauders x hyperactive!reader who rlly gets the zoomies sometimes (me honestly) and out of nowhere she’s just super energetic and is like “hey sorry i’m gonna run to the store quickly for some stuff” and comes back and she’s got things to bake/cook and they’re all in bewilderment like ??? what is happeneing rn

Thanks for requesting lovely!

poly!maraders x hyperactive!reader ♡ 603 words

“I’m bored,” you say abruptly, knee bouncing so fast it’s shaking the coffee table. 

Sirius raises his eyebrows at the unfinished card game between you, him, and James. “Well, that’s a bit insulting.” 

You shake your head rapidly. “Not you, sorry. I just…” You gnaw at your lip, and Sirius and James exchange a bemused look. Remus had cut you off from the coffee pot hours ago, but you look like you’re about to start vibrating. “I don’t know, I need something else to do.” 

James looks at you consideringly. “Do you wanna start a movie?”

You shake your head again, and you’ve got a look on your face like you’re trying to see inside your own brain. 

“We could put on some music,” Sirius suggests.

“No.” You frown. “I feel like I need to climb a tree, or learn how to do a back handspring, or something.” You look at him. “You know?”

Sirius can’t say he does.

“Maybe you just need to take a lap around the block,” Remus says idly, flipping the page in his novel. 

You jump to your feet. “I’ve got it,” you announce, and head for the door. 

“Wait,” James says quickly, “wait, sweetheart, Remus was just joking.” 

Remus looks up from his book, vaguely alarmed. “Yeah, dove, don’t actually run around the block. It’s dark out.” 

“I won’t.” You wave them off, grabbing your bag and rushing out the door. You stop a few steps from the threshold, look down at your feet, and come back, slipping on a pair of shoes. “Be back soon!” you call, and before anyone can protest further, you’ve shut the door behind you. 

Sirius looks between his boyfriends. “What the fuck was that about?”

Remus shrugs, going back to his book. “Dunno. If she’s not back in twenty minutes, would one of you let me know? We should probably call the police.” 

Thankfully for them (and the police), you are back within twenty minutes. You and three bags of groceries. 

“Angel.” James stands as you speed into the kitchen, heaving the bags onto the counter. “What’s going on with you? What are you doing?”

“I’m baking cookies.” 

“It’s nearly midnight,” Remus says, at the same time as Sirius asks, “What kind of cookies?”

James has perked up at the mention of desserts, too. “Not sure,” you answer with a shrug. “I couldn’t decide between chocolate chip, earl grey, and these peppermint-and-chocolate ones I saw online, so I got ingredients for each and I’m gonna try them all.” 

“Dove,” Remus tries again, as James prances happily into the kitchen to help you set up, “it’s nearly midnight. How late are you planning to stay up to finish all that?”

“Also not sure.” You take out three big mixing bowls and begin measuring out flour for each of them. “The dough for the earl grey cookies needs to be refrigerated for a few hours, so I figure I can always freeze the rest if I don’t want to keep going after that.” 

Sirius raises his eyebrows, watching as you and James flit about the kitchen like busy hummingbirds. “Should we try and stop them?” he asks Remus quietly. 

“No.” Remus is frowning, and Sirius can tell that, behind a layer of weariness, his amber eyes are calculating. “She won’t be able to keep this level of energy up for long. She’ll conk out soon.” 

Sirius grins, leaning up to press a kiss to the taller boy’s cheek. “Alright, sunshine,” he says, joining you and James in the kitchen. He hops up onto the counter. “Tell me what I can do to help.” 

[con-dientes]

Shared Smoke pt. 1

(TW: 1nc3st, b1g br0 x l1l s1s, 🍃 1nt0x)

I kinda rushed thru this so lemme clear some things up: I haven’t written since 8th grade on wattpad so pls dont kill me, thanks. Idk when I’ll be updating bc I have a really busy month 😭

I loved my brother. No matter how much of a jerk he was, I loved him, so when I caught him digging through my drawer for money, it didn’t bother me much.

“Hey, kiddo, I was just… uh, looking for you!” my older brother lies. I look at him, unimpressed.

“You were looking for me in my drawer?” I ask, glancing at my scattered panties. He freezes, realizing the mess he made. “I thought I saw a spider in here. Just making sure it was gone,” he stammers, but his twitchy movements give him away. I notice his withdrawals kicking in.

“Look, sis, I’m sorry. I really need some cash. Got any I can borrow?” His voice is strained, and I know he has no intention of paying it back. “I don’t have cash, bro,” I reply. “Gave it to the needy.”

He groans, rubbing his temples. “Come on, lil’ sis, not even a few bucks?” His desperation is hard to ignore. “I…” I hesitate, and he notices. He steps closer, his tone softening. “Please, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I need your help.”

“I… I don’t have money, but…” I struggle to meet his eyes. His eyes light up, sensing a chance. “But what, sis?”

“I have some weed…” I finally say. “Weed? Shit, that’s perfect,” he says, relief washing over him. “You’re a lifesaver.” His hand trembles as he reaches out. “Can I have some? Please? I promise I won’t smoke it here—I’ll go outside or something. You won’t even know.”

“Smoke it here… with me.” My brother’s eyes widen, surprise quickly turning into a grin. “Are you serious?” he asks. “Not that I’m complaining, but… what brought this on?” We’ve always kept our habits separate. But if I’m offering now, who is he to refuse?

“Got a lighter, or should I grab mine?”

"I've got my stuff." I reply, bending over to look under my bed. He watches as I bend over to look under the bed, his eyes unconsciously trailing over my form. He shakes his head, trying to focus on the promise of getting high rather than his sibling's body. "Nice," he says, his voice a bit hoarse. "So, uh, where do you wanna to do this? Your room or mine?" He glances around, half-expecting our parents to burst in. Running a hand through his hair, he grins. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d want to smoke with me, sis. I’m kinda impressed.”

“We can do it in my bed…” I pull out my stash. “I… kinda need this high, too.” My brother’s eyebrows shoot up. “On your bed? Alright, cool,” he says, trying to sound casual. He sits on the edge of the bed, watching me. “You need a high too, huh? What’s going on?” he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and concern. “Everything okay?” Despite his own desperate need for a fix, he can't help but worry about his sibling. He leans forward, studying my face.

"Let's..." I bite my bottom lip, avoiding his question as I roll the joint. "...get high." I press the joint to his lips, and he looks surprised but takes it, inhaling deeply as I light it. Smoke fills the air, and he exhales, his body relaxing. "Fuck, that's good." He passes the joint back, a lazy smirk on his face. "Your turn," he says, his voice rough. "Didn't know you had it in you, sis."

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, big brother,” I reply, taking a hit. His eyebrows shoot up, surprise and intrigue flickering across his face. He takes another drag, holding the smoke before exhaling slowly. “Is that right?” he says, his voice low. “Sounds like there’s a whole side to you I’ve never seen.” He watches me through half-lidded eyes, the smoke curling around my face. There’s something different about tonight, something that's making his skin tingle in a way that has nothing to do with the weed. “So, what other secrets you been keeping from me?” he asks with a smirk. He leans back on his elbows, his body evident even through his clothes. "Cause I gotta say, I'm kinda digging this new side of you."

"Things you probably don't need to know." I reply softly, beginning to get high. I smile lazily, biting my bottom lip once more. "Fuck~ that feels good~"

My brother’s eyes soften as he watches me take a hit, my words and actions igniting something primal within him. The weed is starting to kick in, making everything feel hazy and intense. "Oh yeah?" he says, his voice low and gravelly. "Maybe I wanna know those things, baby sis. Maybe I wanna know everything about you." He leans in closer, the scent of smoke and something uniquely me filling his senses. His lip quirks into a smirk as he notices me biting my bottom lip. "Feels good, huh?"

The tension in his body is melting away, replaced by a warm, tingling sensation. He can't help but notice how raw I look right now, all relaxed and flushed.

"You look fucking hot like this, you know that?" The words slip out before he can stop them, fueled by the weed and the strange, electric atmosphere between them.

I laugh softly, playfully pushing him. "Don't say shit you don't mean, man!" His eyes widen at my playful push, a grin spreading across his face. "Who says I don't mean it? You're fucking beautiful, sis."

"Promise you're not saying that just because I'm your little sister?" I ask, blowing smoke on his face. He inhales the smoke I blow into his face, feeling it tingle pleasantly in his lungs. He holds it for a moment, then exhales slowly.

The high is starting to really hit him now, making his thoughts hazy and disjointed.

"No, I'm not," he says, shaking his head vehemently. His hair falls messily over his face as he leans in closer. "I've never seen you as just my little sister..." I gasp softly, the weed making me feel like this wasn't a big deal. I look at him, unsure of how to react.

My brother’s heart races as I gasp softly, the weed making them both feel uninhibited and reckless. He can't believe he just confessed his true feelings like that, but the high has stripped away his usual caution. "What?" he asks, his voice low and rough. "You never thought about it before? About us?"

"I... think we're both high." I reply. "Don't kill it, don't kill the vibe."

[leahswife]

the in-betweens

summary: in which you and aitana go from normal best friends to best friends who kiss.

a/n: this is the before of "where do we stand". gotta post some aitana fluff after all the jenni filth. i'm sorry if this feels rushed but i just couldn't find any more ways to describe the goddamn act of kissing 😭

prequel, part one, part two, part three

"ven a bailar conmigo, porfaaa." aitana begged as she grabbed your hand. 

"no no no aita–" you tried to protest but the girl's strong arms pulled you up from your seat, in the direction of the dance floor. you looked back at where you were seated besides caro and marta, sending them a pleading look to save you. they sent you an apologetic look but knew even they couldn't reason with a buzzed energetic aitana. you groaned at being dragged, you weren't in the mood for drinks tonight and you pretty content sitting next to the calm couple.

you don't know where aitana managed to find so much energy to party after a long game. but she did. and insisted on trying to force some of it into your worn out body.

you danced for a while, aitana screaming along to the spanish songs playing. you were unable to keep your frown on, with a smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you saw how happy she was.

she finally calmed down and wrapped her arms around your neck which made you comfortable enough to wrap yours around her waist, pulling her closer. you felt like your heart could combust with how close she was. she was breathless and clearly still high on a buzz when she got closer to your ear to shout "quiero besarte!" you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, not quite understanding what she said, a mix of language barrier and loud music not allowing you to. she grabbed the back of your neck to pull you closer and shouted again, "i want to kiss you!" she smiled excitedly.

you felt like your eyes couldn't grow wider if you wanted to, shocked at what you just heard. "you want to kiss me?" you asked her, disbelief in your voice. she just nodded with a happy smile and kept on dancing like she just didn't drop those 'too drunken' news on your 'too sober' self.

you went along with her wishes for a while but the pressing of sweaty bodies against you was starting to make you uncomfortable and so you got closer to aitana to shout in her ear, "i'm tired, tana. i'm going!" she nodded, starting to get drained too and both of you went back to your friends' table to gather your stuff. she tripped a bit on her own feet and you quickly put your hand on her waist to steady her, "okay, i'm taking you home." you say as you grab her stuff for her, she just giggled and let you take the lead, "at least take me to dinner first."

once you got to her house, you search for her keys in her purse and open the door, planting your hand on her back to guide her inside.

"so much better." you let out as you relished in the warmth of aitana's apartment, compared to the night's relentless cold outside. you turned to aitana to see her shivering in her dress, holding tightly onto her jacket.

"aitanita, go change into your pajamas." you rubbed up and down her arms and she nodded, "you can use my pajamas too" she suggested quietly, sleepiness taking over her.

"oh that's okay, i can go ba–"

"i'd like for you to stay." she whispered, looking up at you. she was sobering up by now and you could see it in her eyes there was something she needed to let out. did she remember what she said earlier? about you two kissing? she could really just let it go and blame it on the alcohol but you knew aitana felt the need to carefully explain any behaviour that could come across as weird. so you nodded. you went to grab her pajamas and got ready in her bathroom while she got dressed in her bedroom.

when you walked in, aitana was sprawled in her bed, dead asleep. you looked at her for a moment, heart beating slightly faster at the thought that your best friend might like you back. anyway, that was something for you to obsess over later. you chuckled at her figure and tucked her in, pulling the warm covers over her. you grabbed a blanket and made yourself comfortable on her couch.

–

"why did you sleep on the couch?!" 

you groaned and reluctantly opened your eyes as a scolding aitana woke you up.

"you don't have a guest room." you mumbled sleepily.

"so you should've slept in my bed." she crossed her arms.

"hm. couldn't disturb your beauty sleep." you put one arm over your eyes to keep away the light.

"idiota." you heard aitana mutter under her breath as she continued to throw complaints in catalan at you.

"aita, aita, aita" you repeated in hopes of interrupting her, in which you were successful, resulting in aitana shutting her mouth but not without sending you a scowl.

"qué?"

"has anyone ever told you that you're extremely loud and talk way–" you're interrupted by her rolling her eyes and moving towards the kitchen, ignoring you, "-- way too fast!" you yelled after her.

soon after, you feel a body sit down next your lying one. you opened your eyes to see aitana offering you a plate with fruit and eggs and some orange juice. you sit up, a smile forming on your face. "you didn't have to."

"eat." 

"bossy."

"as i speak."

you looked at her, getting slightly anxious at what was about to come next. but you nodded and started diving into your plate.

"i said something last night." she started, hesitantly. you nodded again, focusing more on your plate rather than looking at her so she wouldn't feel so much on the spot.

"i didn't– i don't want to make you uncomfortable with what i said."

"did you mean it though?" you finally lift your gaze towards her. 

"i– i did mean it. but i don't know what that means for me. if that makes sense." aitana was looking at her hands, fidgeting with them. this was clearly a sensitive topic. you noticed her breathing starting to get irregular and you put your plate and glass on the coffee table so you could get closer to her.

"i just don't want to lose you and i'm sorry if i made things awkward or different–" she started rambling the same time her tears started flowing down her cheeks. you pulled her into a hug and held her tight, "hey, tana–" "i don't want you to look at me differently or avoid me–" she was trying to control her breathing at this point, so you grabbed her cheeks, "aitana. stop." you said firmly, trying to ground her. she finally regained control of her breath and looked at you with slightly red eyes. 

"aitana, i can assure you that you wanting to kiss me is not a problem. at all. i don't feel weird or uncomfortable or whatever. hell, i feel flattered that aitana bonmatí wants to kiss me." you winked at her, trying to lighten up the mood. she giggled and wiped her nose. you felt relieved when you saw the smile back in her face, "i know this is probably overwhelming for you right now and you have a lot to discover on your own. but i can't lie and say i don't want to kiss you either." 

she looked up at you, eyes wide at your confession. 

"but if that's something you're not ready to explore, let's leave it at that and let it go."

–

and you did. let it go, that is. for a little while.

none of you spoke about it. you figured aitana should be the one to bring it up when she's prepared, so you went back to normal. as if nothing happened.

until it did.

–

you and almost the whole barça team were hanging out at mapi and ingrid's house for bonding night. you had played a few games and were now gathered around the living-room, watching a movie.

you were sitting at one of the ends of the couch, with aitana cuddling you by your side. you'd often whisper things to her to explain some scene from the movie or make some joke about what was happening. you'd do anything to see her smile and give you her absolutely lovable giggle.

at one point she nudged you to face her. "hm?" you asked, highly aware of how close your faces were. "i'm going to take a nap, wake me up when it's over." she whispered and you could feel her breath on your lips, which was far too intoxicating. you could simply nod and try to not look at her lips. 

she smiled as a thank you and flicked her eyes to your lips before gazing back up at you. you felt her inhale a short breath before looking down at your lips again and moving closer, pressing her own against the corner of your mouth. if your heart wasn't beating fast before, it definitely was now.

you started at each other, both understanding that that changed something.

she leaned her head on your shoulder again to try and take her nap but there was no way aitana was able to fall asleep now with the thundering in her chest.

–

the ride back to aitana's house was silent. there was unspoken tension between you two and you both knew it.

you got out of your car and walked her over to her door, not quite sure what to say and feeling like a teenager with a crush who's just dropped her date off at home and doesn't know what to do.

you huffed in frustration. the silence was killing you and you had to do something about it. you stepped closer to aitana and carefully cupped her cheeks, looking at her as if asking for permission. she didn't pull away so you leaned in, noses touching, you giving her another chance to back out if she wanted to.

she didn't. so you took your chance and softly pressed your lips against hers. 

you honestly didn't know how to describe it. it was tentative, gentle, delicate but - comfortable? like your lips were always meant to touch hers and knew exactly how to move against hers as if you've kissed a hundred times before. 

after what felt like ages to you but were actually seconds, aitana kisses you back. you keep kissing for a few more moments before you pull back, hands still cupping the catalan's cheeks and stare at her, breathless.

"i swear, aitana, if you still don't speak after that i–" you're cut off by her sweet little giggle before she presses multiple kisses on your lips. "you want to come in?" she asks, biting her lip to try and keep her grin from widening even further.

"damn, bonmatí. a girl gives you a finger and you want the whole arm." you shook your head in fake disapproval.

"callate." she grabbed your hand and pulled you in. 

the rest of the night was spent with you two letting your lips and tongues explore each other's mouths. it started off as shy and tender but as comfort and boldness started to settle in, your kisses got harder and provocative.

however, no matter how much your hands and lips delved into each other, no labels were defined. 

and they wouldn't be for the next months to come.

–

a routine started to settle in. you would show up at each other's houses for "best friend's night" and it always ended up with you locking lips. whether it was while aitana was cooking or when she beat you at a board game and you wanted to shut her up.

the same conversation also started to settle in between make out sessions. "just friends, right?" aitana would whisper breathlessly against your lips, and you would nod, agreeing with whatever she wanted so you could press your lips against hers again and again.

"i just," she would cut herself off to kiss you, "can't be," kiss, "in a relationship right now." kiss. you would agree because you would accept anything aitana would give you, no matter how small or little it could be.

you couldn't keep off of each other even at training, with you often pulling her inside closets so you could press her against the wall and muffle her giggles with your mouth. or when she would drag you into the changing room while others were at lunch to playfully bite your lips and leave you winded up.

but aitana was a busy person. she had family, friends and her career to focus on. but all she seemed to focus on now was you. and that was starting to worry her. she never had to make room for someone else in her life since starting her career, except for the casually meeting friends once in a while and visiting her family when she could. but to share everything with someone?

so she started to pull away, she wouldn't reach out to you during trainings, choosing to focus on getting there earlier for gym sessions and staying after to practice some more. this was her life, this was her focus. it had to be. so the "best friend's nights" started to disappear as well, aitana claiming she was too tired after trainings. and she was, she really was. as much as she trained, she didn't feel as fulfilled as before. the more she pulled away from you, the less accomplished she felt. but she also pulled these feelings away.

football was once her entire life. and it would be again.

[cowboylikefaith]

with great power...

art donaldson spiderman! au x reader

summary: stanford has a masked superhero on the loose, and you're trying to crack down on his identity. little do you know, it's your boyfriend art.

warnings: cursing, injuries, reader highkey gets mugged, art is being mysterious af, reader is incredibly oblivious, sappy at the end sorry, not proofread

author's note: HI so this is actually my first time writing a fic ever... but this au idea has been absolutely rotting in my brain for the past week or so and i need to get it out. enjoy!!!!!!

╰🕸️ ₊✧ ﾟ❤️⚬𓂂➢

"dude!" you say barging into art's dorm (not realizing that your poor boyfriend was in the middle of a nap) "look at the topic the newspaper just assigned me. some shithead on campus is doing parkour in a scuba suit, people are calling him 'spiderman'."

art is pulled out of his trance-like state when he hears the name fall out of your mouth. you feel bad after realizing you woke him up, seeing him wipe his tired eyes with a pout on his lips. "hey pretty" he says with a lopsided smirk on his face "what were you talking about? some spider-idiot?" you hop into bed next to him "yeah it's nothing...sorry for waking you up, just go back to bed, 'kay?"

you don't know what's been up with art recently. he rarely returns your calls, he's always tired, and when he's awake, he's either in a rush or incredibly sluggish. you asked patrick about it and he said that the beginning of a new tennis season is wearing both of them down. seems reasonable, right?

now, it's been a few weeks since you were assigned this story, and jess (your senior editor) wants you to photograph and interview this spiderman guy, because apparently he's some kind of campus superhero (returning stolen laptops, helping drunk sorority girls avoid getting hit by cars, the usual) however you have no leads so far.

until one day, tashi tells you a story about how he saved a freshman from the tennis team from being hazed, and you decide to ask your boyfriend about it.

"you don't know anything about a kid named steven mcdonald, do you?" you ask art as you settle down to watch some gossip girl.

"that freshman who survived a hazing incident? yeah, i know of him" he replies as he pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead.

you pull away with furrowed eyebrows "well did he...say...anything about that night?"

"uh no. no, not really" he says (a little distantly) "anyway! i seriously don't understand why serena loves dan so much, nate is obviously the better choice for her."

you roll your eyes sarcastically "wow donaldson...really smooth transition! way to change the subject there honey."

"i'm sorry.." he replies as he plays with your hair "it's just that...i don't want you getting mixed up in that kind of stuff. if you got hurt.." he sighs "i don't know what i'd do with myself"

and so you promise art that you'll stop working on the article...until jess says she'll kick you out of the stanford star if you do.

one night, as you're walking back to your dorm after dinner with tashi and patrick (third wheel much?), a man in a black ski mask suddenly approaches you and orders you to put your hands up.

"give me your fucking heels lady...and your purse!" he demands.

"oh god no" you shut your eyes and groan "please sir, these are really expensive and- and these are manolo blahniks!! my mom bought-"

before you can finish your rambling, you can hear a thud, and when open your eyes, you can see that he's been wrapped up in some web-like substance.

"don't worry, he's not dead" a figure says as he walks out from behind the criminal. you feel like you know him, you can't even see his face but something about him is just so familiar, and you can't put your finger on it. until..

oh my god

"oh my god! you're spiderman! thank you so much, seriously. that guy could've killed me" you say excitedly, forgetting about your past opinions about him.

art- i mean spiderman, chuckles and says that it's no problem, and asks if he could take you back to your dorm.

"yeah! i would love that, thank you." you reply "actually, could i take your photo? i'm doing an article about you for the stanford star." oh and art eats it UP. he's doing stupid poses and acting silly and goofy (just to hear you laugh of course).

you get back to your dorm safely, and spiderart bids you farewell. just before he leaps out your window, he pulls a red stanford cap (one that you've never noticed, and one that looks suspiciously like art's) out of his pocket.

"hey, maybe i'll see you around" he says as he puts the cap on...backwards. something that only art would do. lucky enough for him, you're too tired to notice.

"...and those are the differences between meiosis and mitosis." you're trying to study for another biology exam when all of a sudden you hear a tapping noise on your window.

at first you think it's a bird, or some frat boy trying to piss you off by throwing empty beer cans at your window, but the tapping turns into banging and you start to hear sounds of pain through the glass.

you run to the window and see a boy in a familiar red and blue suit sitting on the windowsill. this time with a huge gash in his side.

"spiderman? oh my god, get inside, what happened?" you ask while scrambling for a first aid kit. art falls onto your bed, unknowingly bleeding all over your new floral sheets. he groans and holds his side, mumbling something about...well god knows what.

art protests as you try to patch up the very open wound by his waist. "you're just like my boyfriend art," you say with a grin "he gets all fucked up during his tennis matches and doesn't let me help him out." you can hear him through the mask but you can't tell if it's a laugh or a whimper.

"jesus- how long is this going to take? i have an econ final to study for" he says with a wince. "not very long if you sit still, spiderboy" you retort "why don't you take off your mask? you must be dying with that thing on."

you feel his face, and it feels...familiar. you slowly take off the mask, and reveal art's lips, sculpted nose, blue and brown eyes, and tousled blonde hair.

suddenly you realize. you realize the reasons for the missed calls, hurried kisses, and rain-checked dates. all this time you've been thinking that it was tennis kicking his ass, when really art was kicking other people's.

"hi honey" art mumbles, same lopsided, boyish smile that you fell in love with gracing his face "i'm sorry. i should have told you." before you can say anything, he kisses you and sneaks his hands to the small of your back. you can feel him smiling into the kiss as he pulls you into his lap.

"i missed you" you say, pulling away with a pout. you card your hands through his blonde curls. "i know, i know, i'm sorry pretty girl, it's just that...i don't want you to worry about me." art replies, pushing your hair away from your face.

you flick his forehead. "you dumbass. of course i'm going to worry about you, whether you like it or not...because i like you. a lot. no matter what kind of freaky superpowers you have." art lets out a weak chuckle, then he kisses you like a man stuck in the desert for 40 days. you can feel him drawing small circles along your hips and caressing your thumb.

you pull away one last time. "now tell me spiderboy...how did you go from tennis team captain to stanford superhero?"

[jintaka-hane]

Absurdly Cute

Masterlist

Summary: Boredom leads the crew to find ways to entertain themselves at the captain's expense... An amusement that could cost you your live. Word count: 800

The Victoria Punk drifts peacefully on calm waters.

There is no wind to propel the ship, and no clouds to threaten its tranquility. There's no rush either, so the crew takes the opportunity to relax leisurely on the deck, some enjoying the time to rest while others seeking ways to entertain themselves.

The captain is among the first group, peacefully taking a nap. Using some sacks as makeshift pillows, he rests with his arms folded behind his head, his chest gently rising and falling with each relaxed breath.

A cautious distance from him, Killer, Heat, Wire, and you are sitting in a circle on the floor, playing cards silently to pass the time. After a few rounds where Killer has emerged as the victor and Heat as the runner-up, it’s now down to a tiebreaker between Wire and you to determine the loser of the losers.

“... the two of hearts and the three of clubs,” you say as you drop both cards into the pile, revealing a terrible hand.

“Ace of spades and ace of clubs,” Wire announces his hand immediately, grinning mischievously.

“Sorry Y/N, you suck at this game.”

Giving a slight kick to the pile of cards, you cross your arms over your chest. “This game is fucking bullshit.”

“Bullshit or not, you lost the bet,” Killer states, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out a small mysterious object.

You hold out your palm for him to hand it over. "Fine".

When he drops the tiny item into your hand, Wire, Heat, and you lean over to inspect it.

Seeing what it is, you let out a groan of frustration. The corners of Heat’s lips curl as much as his facial muscles physically allow, and Wire's shoulders start shaking uncontrollably, bringing both hands to his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“Seriously, guys?” you ask with a mix of fear and disbelief, glancing toward the imposing figure of the sleeping captain.

“Seriously,” you hear Killer’s voice through his mask.

You analyze the contentious object again, glowing innocently in your palm, and let out a exasperated sigh.

“... He’s going to kill me.”

Heat and Killer shrug nonchalantly.

“A bet is a bet,” Wire adds, still wearing his malicious grin. “Go on.”

Rolling your eyes back, you clench your fist tightly around the small item and stand up, delaying the inevitable no longer.

On tiptoe, with slow and calculated steps, you start approaching the captain, praying that the wood doesn't creak beneath your feet.

"Kil, how much more stuff like this do you have?" You hear your shipmates chatting in low voices behind you.

“Oh, you have no idea...”

You shake your head to concentrate and ignore their comments. Your senses are on high alert, attuned to any factor that might work against you and wake the captain, like a sudden gust of wind or a seagull squawking overhead.

Killer, Wire, and Heat's vigilant gaze are fixed upon you, silently tracking your cautious movements. As you draw closer to the captain you carefully hover over him, swallowing hard and extending your arms to keep your balance.

An ill-timed fly buzzes over Kid's face, making you freeze as his nose wrinkles at the annoying sound. With your heart in your throat, you realize that your life depends on how deeply he is sleeping.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

His eyes remain closed, but he raises his human hand to lazily swat at the pesky insect, then scratches his temple before putting his arm back under his head to continue sleeping.

You remain completely still, not daring to move a muscle, and look at your crewmates with a pleading gaze. They quickly urge you on, Heat mouthing Go with exaggerated movements, while Wire gives you a thumbs-up.

You furrow your brow and give them a slight nod, then shift your attention back to Kid.

Shaking your shoulders and rotating your neck to ease tension, you draw in a breath that you don't release, and close the distance between you and Kid's mechanical arm. Now or never, you tell yourself with resolve as you open your fist, revealing the small object in your palm alongside a mark with its shape engraved in your flesh.

Gripping the magnetized item firmly between your fingers, the tip of your tongue poking out, you bring it closer to the metal surface with meticulous precision. It makes contact, adhering with a faint click, and with a gesture of victory you step back to admire your feat:

Adorning the imposing mechanical limb of the dreaded Captain Eustass Kid, gleams a small and absurdly cute Hello Kitty magnet.

******

It isn't until late at night, after having spent the entire day exchanging knowing glances, nudges, and silent laughter with the rest of the crew, that you hear him.

"W-what?... What the HELL is this!? ... AGAIN!? I swear, I’m gonna FUCKING KILL YOU ALL!!"

@fanaticsnail this is your fault! My stupid obsession for them is your fauuuuult! 🤣