#the way every time i realize they were teasing us with the features at the end all along i have to rearrange the playlist to tell

[imreidswifey]

request!

fem!reader who's just so so enamoured with how pretty Spencer is and she often just stares at him for long periods of time (not in a weird creepy way, like she zones out and doesn't realize how long she's staring). Spencer notices when she does this and he gets all flustered every time. like to the point where he can't focus on whatever he's doing. Then when they're alone Spencer let's her just look at him and like, trace his facial features and stuff? like they're having a conversation on the couch and r is just tracing Spencer's jawline or the bridge of his nose with her fingers?

apologies if this isn't a very good idea, if i was dating Spencer I'd be doing this all the time!! he's so pretty omg.

-🪲

𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

w/c: 5.2k

a/n: AHHHH THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST EVERR!! Im actually so happy y'all dont understand 🤭 thank you so much 🪲! This req was literally perfect and was a dream to writee i actually like love u so much and I hope I did what you wanted with this prompt!!

———

Spencer Reid had the kind of beauty that made my heart ache.

Not in a fleeting, superficial way—but in a way that settled deep in my bones, in a way that made everything else in the world seem dull in comparison. It was unfair, really, how effortlessly stunning he was.

I didn’t think he realized it, which only made it worse.

It was everything—the soft, golden curls that always seemed to fall perfectly into place no matter how often he raked a hand through them. The sharp lines of his cheekbones, the way they caught the light when he turned his head just so. His hazel eyes, warm and thoughtful, always filled with something unreadable yet captivating.

I was enamored. Absolutely, irreversibly enamored.

And I had a habit.

A terrible, unbreakable habit.

I stared at Spencer Reid. A lot.

Not in a creepy, overbearing way—I didn’t gawk or leer. It wasn’t intentional, either. I just… got lost in him sometimes.

It happened when he was deep in thought, tapping his fingers against his chin while reading some obscure book that no one else in the team could decipher. Or when he was talking, completely oblivious to how mesmerizing he looked while explaining quantum physics or behavioral patterns.

It was never on purpose.

But Spencer noticed.

Every single time.

———

I was supposed to be working.

I really was.

But Spencer was sitting across from me, brow furrowed in concentration as he flipped through a case file. His glasses—those damn glasses—were perched on the bridge of his nose, the thin gold frame complementing the warm undertones of his skin.

I was done for.

I didn’t realize how long I’d been staring until Spencer suddenly stopped moving.

I blinked, snapping back to reality. His hazel eyes met mine, slightly wide, as if I’d caught him off guard—though, in reality, he had caught me.

Again.

The air between us shifted, crackling with something unspoken. Spencer’s fingers twitched against the pages of his file, but he didn’t turn away.

Instead, his blush started to rise.

I knew the pattern by now—the way it crept up his neck, painting his cheeks a soft, rosy hue. The way his lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite form the words.

I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. “Spence?”

He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact far too quickly.

“You’re—uh—” He gestured vaguely, struggling. “You’re doing it again.”

I tilted my head, feigning innocence. “Doing what?”

His jaw clenched slightly, and he let out a breath through his nose.

“You know what.”

A small laugh escaped me.

Before I could tease him further, Hotch’s voice cut through the moment.

“You two.”

I jumped, realizing that everyone was staring at us. Emily raised a knowing brow, JJ bit back a smirk, and Derek—of course—was grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

Spencer, on the other hand, looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

“We’re moving forward with the profile,” Hotch continued, eyes narrowing slightly. “Unless, of course, you’re both too… distracted.”

Spencer made a noise in his throat—something between a cough and a strangled squeak—and immediately buried himself in his notes.

I felt the warmth of amusement bloom in my chest.

I really needed to get better at hiding my staring.

———

It wasn’t until later that night that I got the chance to properly admire Spencer without the weight of an audience.

The two of us were curled up on my couch, the soft glow of my reading lamp casting a golden hue over everything. A book lay open in his lap—something about classical philosophy—but neither of us were really focused on it.

Spencer was talking, his voice low and soothing as he explained something about Socratic irony. I was listening—really, I was—but my hands had a mind of their own.

Without thinking, I reached out, my fingertips ghosting over the sharp line of his jaw.

Spencer inhaled sharply, his words cutting off mid-sentence.

His gaze snapped to mine, hazel eyes wide and unreadable.

I didn’t stop.

I traced the curve of his cheekbone, my touch feather-light, barely there. His skin was warm beneath my fingertips, and I could feel the way his jaw tensed slightly, as if he wasn’t sure whether to lean into my touch or pull away.

He didn’t pull away.

Instead, he swallowed, throat bobbing slightly.

“You—” His voice was barely a whisper. “You do this a lot.”

I smiled, letting my fingers trail along the bridge of his nose, then down to the corner of his lips.

“I know.”

Spencer’s breath hitched.

His hands clenched slightly against his lap, as if he was holding himself back. His blush deepened, spreading across his cheeks like wildfire.

I leaned in slightly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Do you want me to stop?”

For a moment, I thought he might say yes.

But then—slowly, hesitantly—he exhaled and shook his head.

“No,” he murmured.

That was all the permission I needed.

I took my time, memorizing him the way I always wanted to. My fingers traced the sharp planes of his face, following the path of freckles that dusted his nose. He stayed perfectly still, his breath uneven, his lips parting slightly at my touch.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered.

Spencer closed his eyes for a moment, his lashes fluttering against his cheek. When he opened them again, there was something raw in his gaze—something vulnerable and breathtaking.

“You really think that?” he asked softly.

I let my thumb brush against his cheek.

“I know that.”

Spencer exhaled shakily, his hands finally moving. One of them lifted, hesitating before resting over mine. He held it there, pressing my palm against his cheek, as if grounding himself in the moment.

And then, in the softest voice I’d ever heard from him, he whispered, “I like it when you look at me.”

My heart clenched.

I smiled, leaning in just a little closer. “Good.”

Because I wasn’t going to stop.

Not now. Not ever.

———

Spencer Reid didn’t need words to be poetry.

He was poetry in the way he blushed, in the way he stammered when I caught him off guard. He was poetry in the way he let me trace my fingers over his skin, in the way he closed his eyes and melted into my touch.

He was poetry in the way he let me look at him.

And I never wanted to stop reading.

———

Tyy 🪲 for requesting this!!!

[theinfinitedivides]

Héritage Deluxe.......................... like every single time before and after this they have come and delivered. amen and amen

[mariasont]

short n sweet but we need one where spencer loves head scratches and getting his hair played with

Heart Nebula - S.R

summary: spencer tells you every atom in your body was once part of a star, but you think he's the celestial wonder worth studying. pairings: spencer reid x reader warnings: fluff galore, existentialism, star-gazing, astrophysics inaccuracies im so sure wc: 2.1k

"You'd be so proud of me today, you know."

You scoot closer, disrupting the careful folds of the blanket. The fabric bunches beneath your legs, damp soil seeps through, not quite wet enough to be a problem, but enough to make you aware of it. A blade of grass tickles stubbornly at your ankle. You wiggle your foot once, twice, it stays. Some things do.

Your pinky grazes his, the barest of contact, but he turns his head anyway. The night seems to fold him in shadow, softens his features, makes him look almost ethereal. His eyes give him away, glinting back at you, tiny shards of cosmos blinking back at you. It should be impossible to feel jealously of the sky, and yet.

"Yeah?" The familiar crease settles between his brows, a well-loved marker in the pages of him. His head tilts, waiting, not impatiently, already certain he's going to love your answer. "Why's that?"

Your smile jumps ahead of you, swells into one of those too-big-for-your-face grins. The kind that crinkles your nose, bunches your cheeks, makes your face ache after a while.

"I learned about a nebula."

Spencer's laugh starts in his chest and works its way out, rattling through his ribs, shaking his shoulders, until the momentum knocks his knee into yours.

"Look at you," he says, all teasing admiration. "I am proud. Which one?"

"I think It was called the Heart Nebula?" You glance at him, waiting, watching, half-hoping that he'll recognize the name, that he'll give you that little nod of confirmation.

He does. You beam.

"I saw a picture earlier, and it was just—," You trail off, eyes tipping upwards, letting the sky steal whatever poetic explanation you were about to give. "I don't know. Too beautiful to be real."

Spencer had been so excited when you told him you wanted to stargaze, his eyes had practically glowed, already rattling off a dozen facts about atmospheric conditions and celestial visibility, and why tonight was perfect.

He barely took a breath before he had been launching into a dozen more reasons, winding himself up so tight with words that the only way to release them, apparently, was kissing you. Feverishly.

Like he had no other way to translate his excitement into something tangible, something felt.

It made you want to promise him everything, to tell him you'd do this forever, that you'd let him drag you under the stars a thousand times over if it meant being kissed like that.

Spencer glances at you, his mouth twitching like you've just said the punchline to a joke you don't realize you're telling. You're here, waxing about a sky full of ancient light, calling the Heart Nebula too beautiful to be real, and he's looking at you like you've missed the most obvious part.

You narrow your eyes, but he only shakes his head, like whatever crossed his mind was his to keep.

"The Heart Nebula is full of newborn stars," he tells you, gaze still pointed on the sky. "Their radiation makes the gas glow red, pink. The whole thing shifts under stellar winds, reshaping itself, over and over again."

His voice wades its way through the parts of your brain, finding its place. He has this way of explaining things, of turning something infinite into something intimate. 

And you love that. Love how he does that. Love the way he sees things. Love him.

"It's about 7,500 light-years away. Which means the light we're seeing now left before humans even figured out agriculture." A small, disbelieving laugh escapes him. "By the time it reaches us, whatever we're looking at doesn't exist the same way anymore. It's already changed. Probably unrecognizable."

His fingers twitch against his thigh, probably resisting the urge to gesture. "Space is weird like that."

"I don't know, Spence," you tease, fingers pinching the sleeve of his shirt, catching just enough of him to feel real. His dimple carves into his cheek and your heart stumbles, caught between beats. "It kind of sounds like you're telling me I can't trust my own eyes."

"Well, technically you can't." He turns fully toward you, dimple still firmly in place, eyes flicking, too quickly, too obviously, to your lips. "The human eye takes in scattered bits of light, and your brain—" he taps your temple for emphasis "—fills in the blanks. Adjusts for shadows, alters colors based on what it thinks is there. Your eyes are compulsive liars."

He pauses, tiling his head, considering. "And since our perception is limited by our optic nerves, no one really sees their own eyes the way others do. Which is a shame, because if you could see yours the way I do, you'd understand why I can't help but stare."

There are moments when Spencer says something so casually devastating that your brain just empties, and this is absolutely one of them. Your mouth opens, then closes again.

"That's—" Your voice catches, so you clear your throat, shake your head, try to reassemble your thoughts. "That's a really unfair thing to say, you know."

Spencer blinks, like he’s running back through the conversation in real time, replaying his own words to figure out what, exactly, made you forget how to breathe. 

"Why?"

"Because some of us have a very delicate hold on their emotional stability, and you—” you point at him, accusing “— just shattered it in two sentences."

"Technically, that’s the limbic system at work. The amygdala controls emotional reactivity, but the prefrontal cortex tempers it."

You would try to unpack that, really, you would, but then his hands find your waist, and suddenly the ground isn't where you thought it was. You gasp, giggle, crash right into him, catching yourself with shaking hands against his chest.

"So really," he continues, as if you aren't sprawled across him, "if your emotional stability was shattered, you should blame your neural pathways, not me."

Your fingers twist in his hair as you lean in to kiss him, deeply and thoroughly, like proof, like inevitability maybe, a thought forming in real time, one you can press straight into his skin. 

"Maybe my neural pathways are just adapting to something worth remembering," you whisper, and the way he stills, the way his lips part just slightly, makes you think you might not be the only one.

Spencer makes a small, pleased noise against your lips, something that was half sighed and smiled, and you feel it, all of it, in the way his throat moves beneath your fingertips as he swallows.

"That... might be my favorite use of neuroscience yet."

You flash him a grin. "And you thought I wasn't paying attention when you ramble."

"I should've known you'd find a way to weaponize it."

You let your full weight settle onto him, chin perched on his chest, his heartbeat a slow song beneath your cheek. Your fingers slip into his hair, threading through soft strands, nails scraping lightly over his scalp, testing a theory you already know the answer to.

Yeah. Definite reaction.

"So that's what it takes, huh?" you tease, lips curling against the material of his shirt. You scratch again to be sure, and his next breath comes slower. "Just a well-placed brain chemistry reference?"

"From you? Yeah, that'll do it."

"Noted." A pause. Then, softer. "Keep talking to me about space."

"You know, you're kind of demanding." Spencer's fingers skate along your waist before he squeezes, firm and quick, like a punctuation mark to his sentence. 

Your head lifts, eyebrow quirked, fingers hovering just out of reach, close enough for him to feel the absence. "Excuse me?"

His smirk vanishes instantly, wiped clean, replaced by something perilously close to distress. His hands twitch at your waist, fingers moving like he can pull you back, like he can make you continue if he just wants it badly enough.

"Wait, wait, I was kidding," he rushes out, voice just shy of frantic. “Don't stop."

You grin, tilting your head like you're considering it. "Hmmm. Apologize."

"I—okay, I'm sorry, you're perfect, please—" his breath hitches, his laugh a little wild, a little helpless, "please keep going."

You giggle, fingertips weaving back into his hair. His response is immediate, a low, shaky sound that buzzes against your skin, something so content it makes warmth spreads through you like a lit fuse, spilling all the way down to your toes.

Spencer smirks, fingers drumming against your waist.

"You really don't let a guy off easy, do you?" He pauses for a second, glancing past you at the sky like he's taking in his options.

"Alright. Here's a fact you might like, every single part of you was once part of a star. All the heavier elements in your body, oxygen, carbon, nitrogen, they were formed in the core of ancient stars, forged under immense heat and pressure, then scattered across the galaxy when those stars died, reforming."

His words drift to you, but you don't catch them all. You're too busy watching him.

Out here, in the absence of light pollution, you can see him more clearly than ever. The starlight doesn't just touch him, it claims him, dusting his skin in silver, catching in his lashes, turning the slopes of him almost unreal. Like if you blink too long, he might disappear, slip back into the night where he belongs. A constellation carved into the shape of a person.

You used to think brown was such a simple color. But then you met him, saw his eyes, now it's in everything. Wet earth after rain, cinnamon dusted over coffee, burnt sugar on your tongue.

And now, he’s teaching you it’s also carbon and oxygen forged in the cores of dying stars, pieces of the galaxy that had traveled billions of years to become chocolate flecks on a beautiful face.

He was right, it is a shame people never see their eyes the way others do.

"But how?" you ask. "Like... how does something go from being part of a star to being part of us?"

Spencer exhales softly and you can see the way he loves the question.

 "It's a long process. Billions of years, actually. When a star explodes, it sends all those elements out into space. They mix with other interstellar material, forming new stars, planets, and eventually..." He taps a gentle finger against your stomach. "You."

"That's kind of incredible."

Spencer huffs a quiet laugh, grinning, that beautiful grin, the one that makes your chest feel too small for your heart. His fingers find your temple, trail gently down to your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Then, without pause, he leans in and presses the gentlest kiss to your nose.

"It is," he murmurs, thumb brushing against your cheek. "We're built from pieces of space, borrowed, passed down, stitched together by time."

"So you're saying we've been part of the same universe forever? That's kind of romantic, Spence."

"It's also backed by astrophysics. Science just happens to be romantic sometimes. "

"Well, good," you murmur, pressing a kiss to his neck. "I like knowing there's proof... but I think I would've believed it anyway."

You barely have time to register the flicker in his eyes before, he moves. In a second, you're on your back, the sky stretching endlessly behind him. The stars flicker, countless and beautiful, but right now, they might as well not exist.

Because all you see is him.

He hovers over you, gaze intent, studying you, like you're a phenomenon he never expected to witness up close. Like he's sure now, more than he's ever been about anything. Like you are the discovery of a lifetime.

"The universe has been expanding for 13.8 billion years," he murmurs, fingers trailing along your jaw. "But I don't think it's ever made anything more beautiful than you."

Heat blooms beneath your skin. "More than the Heart Nebula?"

It should sound like teasing. It doesn't.

Spencer exhales, almost like he's amused by your doubt.

"The Heart Nebula exists purely because gravity and radiation dictate that it must. But you..." His gaze softens. "You exist because of a thousand tiny impossibilities stacking on top of each other. The odds of you, of this, are so astronomically low that it shouldn't have happened at all."

Spencer just looks at you for a moment. You don't move, don't breathe. And then he kisses you.

It crashes over you, stealing your breath before you even realize it's happening. His hands tighten at your sides, pulling you closer, like the space between you is unbearable. It's not rushed nor desperate, but it is consuming, the kind of thing that makes it impossible to think of anything else.

When he breaks away, he doesn't go far, forehead resting against yours. "If the universe was capable of making something more beautiful, it would have done it by now."

And maybe that’s true. Maybe the universe, for all its galaxies and nebulae and infinite expanse, never did anything better than this. Not just you, but you and him together. 

Or maybe the universe will never quite get it right again. Because maybe this was its best work.

But it won’t stop trying. It never does. Even after you’re gone, even after you and Spencer are nothing but scattered atoms, the universe will keep going. Creating. Expanding. Changing. New stars will be born, dust will settle into something new, planets will form, galaxies will stretch apart. And maybe, somewhere, the pieces that were once you and him will find their way back to each other. And maybe, if the universe has any kindness left in it, they’ll get to love like this.

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[gf2bellamy]

mistake — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: spencer overhears you and derek talking and he misunderstands your conversation, causing him to distance himself from you. content warnings: mention of being held at gunpoint, biting lip + lip bleeding, spencer being cold a/n: this idea has been stuck in my head for so long !!! i hope you guys like it <33

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the breakroom as you stood by the counter, suppressing a yawn behind your hand.

Derek Morgan leaned casually against the counter, his coffee mug in hand, watching you. “You okay?” he asked, concern flickering in his tone despite the casual delivery. 

You glanced at him, offering a crooked smile. “If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that today…” you trailed off, finishing your coffee preparation.

Moving aside to let Derek reach the machine, you took your first sip, savoring the warmth against your lips. “I’ve been saying the same thing all morning—I’m fine.” 

Morgan arched a skeptical brow, filling his mug. “You were held at gunpoint two days ago,” he pointed out, taking a sip of his coffee. 

You shrugged, attempting nonchalance. “And nothing happened. I’m fine,” you repeated firmly. 

“Tell that to Pretty Boy,” he said, his voice laced with a teasing edge. 

Confused, you turned to face him fully, eyebrows raised. “Why?” 

Derek chuckled, leaning against the counter as he studied your reaction. “He was driving everyone insane while you were in that house. Emily nearly bit his head off.” 

The image of Reid pacing anxiously, rattling off statistics and scenarios, flashed in your mind, and you couldn’t suppress a faint smile. “Hotch got me out. There’s nothing to worry about anymore.” 

At that moment, the sound of footsteps and muffled voices drifted from the hallway as other team members began filtering in, but Derek’s gaze stayed locked on you, serious now. “You know Reid would do anything for you, right?” 

You froze, his words hitting like a direct shot to your chest. The air in the room seemed to thicken, your grip tightening around your coffee cup.

“Yeah,” you mumbled after a moment, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Derek didn’t look away. “Good,” he said simply, though his tone suggested he wasn’t convinced you fully understood the weight of it. 

You took another sip of your coffee, your gaze fixed on the countertop as the warmth seeped through the ceramic into your hands.

The thought of Reid’s concern—his constant, almost obsessive worrying—made your chest ache. It was a strange sensation, both comforting and upsetting, like being wrapped in a blanket too tight to breathe.

“I don’t like it,” you muttered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. 

Morgan’s sharp ears caught it instantly. He raised an eyebrow, his posture shifting as his curiosity piqued. “What’s there not to like?” 

You hesitated, the words tangling in your throat. The memories flashed unbidden in your mind—situations where Reid had thrown himself into danger without hesitation, his only concern being you. The way he’d rushed headlong into harm’s way, ignoring all logic and training. The sleepless nights where you’d caught him pacing, the worry etched so deeply into his features that you couldn’t shake the guilt. 

“It worries me sometimes that…” you started, trailing off as your grip tightened around the mug. 

Morgan tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “That…?” he prompted, his voice softer now, coaxing the rest of your thought. 

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat stubbornly refusing to go away. “That he cares too much,” you admitted finally, though the words felt heavier than you expected. “He’s put himself in danger for me before. More than once. And I don’t like making him worry. I…” You stopped yourself, realizing you were about to reveal too much. “I don’t know,” you finished lamely, shaking your head and taking another sip to avoid meeting Morgan’s gaze. 

Derek didn’t respond right away, his silence stretching just long enough to make you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. He was studying you. 

Derek opened his mouth, a reply forming on his lips, but before he could speak, Emily poked her head into the room.

“Hey, we’ve got a case,” she announced, disappearing just as quickly as she’d arrived. 

Relieved by the interruption, you exhaled quietly and gave Derek a quick smile. “Guess we’ll finish this later,” you said lightly, already moving toward the door before he could reply.

Derek watched you leave, his expression unreadable, before standing and following at his own pace. 

You entered the briefing room, greeted by the sight of Garcia standing at the front, beaming as usual. Her bright pink outfit, complete with colorful accessories, added an air of cheerfulness to the otherwise somber atmosphere. 

“Hi, you two,” Garcia chirped, her voice full of warmth as you and Derek walked in. 

“Hey, Garcia,” you said with a small smile, settling into your usual seat at the table. Derek took the chair directly in front of you, glancing at his phone. 

Moments later, Spencer entered the room. Your eyes instinctively flicked to him, your lips parting to greet him, but he didn’t look your way.

Instead, he avoided your gaze entirely, his expression carefully neutral as he chose a seat farther away—one that was decidedly not next to you. 

You blinked, surprised. Confusion prickled at your thoughts as you watched him pretend to bury himself in the case file that Garcia handed him.

Normally, Spencer greeted you with an enthusiastic smile or a quiet, thoughtful comment. This coldness was unlike him. 

Your eyes shifted to Derek, silently seeking an explanation. He met your gaze, one eyebrow raised, but said nothing. 

“Here you go,” Garcia whispered, slipping a file into your hands. She leaned closer, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “Did you two argue?” 

“What? No,” you whispered back quickly, shaking your head. 

But as the team slowly trickled into the room, it became clear you weren’t the only one noticing the strange tension.

One by one, each team member did a double-take when they saw Spencer’s choice of seat. Everyone knew the two of you were close.

Sitting next to each other during briefings was practically tradition. 

Yet there he was, pointedly looking at his file as if he hadn’t broken that unspoken rule. 

You tried not to let it show, but your heart sank a little as you flipped open your own file. The questions swirled in your mind: Was it something you said? Something you did? 

For the rest of the meeting, you forced yourself to focus on the case, determined to push the nagging thoughts aside. But every now and then, your eyes drifted toward him, hoping for a hint of what was wrong. 

And every time, Spencer Reid refused to meet your gaze. 

Once Garcia finished explaining the details of the case and the team had hashed out the initial plan, Hotch’s voice brought the meeting to a close.

“Wheels up in 20,” he said, and everyone began gathering their things. 

You hesitated, lingering in your seat as the others started filing out of the room. Your eyes flickered toward Spencer, silently willing him to look your way, to give some kind of indication that everything was okay.

But he didn’t. 

Instead, he moved quickly, clutching his file tightly as he left the room in a rush. His long strides carried him away before you could even think of stopping him. You bit your lip, frustration and confusion bubbling up as you watched him disappear down the hall. 

Shaking it off, you grabbed your things and followed the rest of the team, trying to focus on the case rather than the knot of uncertainty twisting in your chest. 

By the time you boarded the jet, you weren’t surprised anymore when you saw Spencer seated far away from his usual spot next to you. He was already absorbed in his file, his profile turned slightly away, making it clear he wasn’t about to acknowledge you. 

Your heart sank a little, but you forced yourself not to dwell on it. Instead, you slid into your regular seat, pulling out your file to prepare for the mission. If Spencer wanted to play distant, you’d let him—for now. 

Emily settled into the seat across from you, her eyes scanning your face with curiosity. You tried to ignore her, keeping your focus on the pages in front of you, but her gaze burned into you. 

Minutes passed, the hum of the jet engine filling the silence, but Emily didn’t look away. Finally, you sighed, snapping the file shut as you met her stare. 

“Emily,” you said, your tone equal parts exasperated and pleading. 

“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice low but insistent. 

“Nothing,” you replied too quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.” 

“Don’t give me that.” Emily leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “You and Spencer haven’t looked at each other once since this morning. That’s not normal. Did something happen?” 

You hesitated, your lips pressing into a thin line as you considered how much to say. “I don’t know,” you admitted quietly, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the file. “He’s been… off. Avoiding me.” 

Emily tilted her head slightly, her expression softening. “Did you talk to him?” 

“I didn’t exactly get the chance,” you said with a bitter laugh, glancing toward the back of the jet where Spencer sat. He hadn’t looked up once, his focus seemingly glued to the pages in front of him. “And even if I did, I don’t know what I’d say.” 

Emily followed your gaze, her brows knitting together in thought. “He’s probably overthinking something,” she said, her tone conspiratorial but kind. “You know how he gets.” 

“Maybe,” you murmured, but doubt lingered in your voice. 

Emily reached across the table, giving your hand a quick squeeze. “Give him time. And if he doesn’t snap out of it soon, you’ll have to be the one to say something. He’s not exactly known for his social bravery, you know.” 

You managed a small smile at that, grateful for her attempt to lighten the mood. But as you glanced toward Spencer one last time, the knot in your chest only tightened. 

You stared out the window, watching the clouds stretch across the sky as the jet hummed steadily beneath you. The rhythmic sound was almost soothing, but it did little to calm the chaos of your thoughts.

You didn’t notice Derek slip into the seat next to you until his voice cut through your haze. “Hey, pretty girl.” He nudged your shoulder lightly, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

You blinked, focusing on his familiar face. “Hi,” you smiled softly at your friend, grateful for the distraction, even if it was brief. 

Derek’s expression shifted from playful to serious. “I talked to him,” he said quietly. 

Your interest piqued immediately. You turned your head toward him, eyes searching his face for any hint of what had been said.

“What’d he say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting anyone else to hear. 

Derek leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he glanced toward Spencer at the back of the jet. “Nothing,” he said simply, his tone flat. 

You frowned, your gaze following Derek’s to Spencer.

For the first time today, Spencer’s eyes met yours—just for a moment—but it felt like an eternity. He quickly looked away, like he was ashamed to have caught you looking. 

“What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” you pressed, feeling a pang of frustration twist in your stomach. 

“I mean, he said there’s nothing wrong,” Derek replied, his voice low. His eyes followed Spencer again, and you could tell he wasn’t buying it either. 

You shot Derek a skeptical look. “He can’t seriously think anyone would believe that.” Your voice was laced with disbelief. 

Before Derek could respond, Emily, who had been quietly listening from the seat in front of you, leaned back and added her voice to the conversation.

You bit your lip, feeling the weight of the conversation settle heavily on your shoulders. The uncertainty was overwhelming, but the more you thought about it, the more it hurt.

“It's okay,” you said quietly, offering Derek a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks for asking anyway.” You tried to sound convincing, but your heart wasn’t in it. You didn’t want to delve deeper into this conversation, not now.

Derek gave you a long look, as if he wanted to press the matter further, but instead, he nodded and leaned back in his seat. Emily, too, remained silent, though you could tell she wasn’t ready to drop it. 

The rest of the flight passed in a heavy, unspoken quiet. You kept your attention on your file, reading the same paragraph over and over without really processing any of it.

Hotch was all business as usual, his stern voice cutting through the quiet hum of the jet.

He glanced briefly at his team before issuing instructions, his usual calm demeanor masking the weight of the case ahead. 

“Derek and Emily, I want you to speak with the families of the victims,” Hotch said, his eyes meeting the two of them briefly before shifting toward Rossi. “Rossi, you’ll be with me at the morgue.” 

Your stomach sank at the mention of your assignment. You knew what was coming, and so did Spencer. You exchanged a fleeting glance—brief, but heavy.

Then came Hotch’s eyes, locking onto yours. “You two will handle the geographical profile,” he said, his voice leaving little room for argument. 

Your breath caught in your throat at the assignment. Hotch knew that you and Spencer worked well together, but today, it felt like he was trying to push you into a situation that neither of you were ready for. 

The jet seemed quieter now, as if everyone could sense the unease simmering beneath the surface.

You glanced at Spencer once more, but he was already looking down at his file again, his brows furrowed in concentration, his face a mask of indifference.

You wanted to say something, ask Spencer what was going on, but you didn’t know where to start.

 The jet had finally touched down, and after gathering their things, the team made their way to the station.

You followed behind, taking in the familiar sights of the small town where another case was waiting to be solved.

Once inside the conference room, the rest of the team split off to tackle their individual tasks.

Hotch, Derek, Emily, and Rossi were all busy making preparations, leaving just you and Spencer to tackle the geographical profile.

The police officers handed you a stack of maps—crumpled and worn—offering their best attempt at providing the information you needed. You nodded and murmured your thanks before walking back toward the table where Spencer was already settling in.

You placed the maps down with a soft thud, but before you could sit, you glanced at Spencer.

His eyes were fixed on the maps in front of him, his hands already sorting through them mechanically, as if the world around him didn’t exist. 

“Spence,” you said softly, almost hesitantly. You had hoped this moment wouldn’t come, that the silence would resolve itself, but you couldn’t keep pretending anymore. 

He barely looked up at the sound of his name, but you caught the brief flicker of his eyes—a fleeting glance that was almost too quick to notice. 

“Hm?” he responded absently, his focus still on the maps as his fingers traced over the inked lines of streets and neighborhoods. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, a quiet plea hanging in the air between you.

Maybe it wasn’t you. Maybe it was something else. Something outside of you that had put this strange distance between the two of you. 

Spencer’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for the briefest moment, you saw it—something in his gaze that made your chest tighten. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t frustration.

It was hurt.

Pain that you hadn’t expected to see in his eyes. 

He seemed to freeze for just a moment, and you felt your heart hammer in your chest, suddenly unsure of what to say next. 

He shook his head, his face hardening slightly, as if he was trying to pull himself back from whatever had just flickered in his eyes.

“Talk about what?” he asked, his tone a little colder than usual. His voice was quiet but firm—too firm, almost as if he were trying to put up a wall between you and him. 

You felt a lump form in your throat. "Did I—" 

Before you could finish, Spencer cut you off, his voice tight with something you couldn’t quite place. “We have to get started on this,” he said, his words sharp but careful. 

With a slow exhale, you nodded, though it didn’t come easily. "Right." You lowered your gaze, your fingers gripping the edges of the map in front of you as you tried to focus on the task at hand.

Spencer didn’t say anything more. Instead, he reached for a marker and started drawing a rough outline on one of the maps.

The usual warmth that he brought to these situations—his quiet intelligence, his willingness to collaborate—was nowhere to be found. 

As the moments stretched on, the weight of the silence became harder to ignore.

You both busied yourselves with the task at hand. Every time you glanced at him, Spencer’s face remained unreadable, his gaze focused solely on the maps.

The others trickled in later that night, the sound of the door opening followed by the rustle of bags and the smell of fast food wafting through the room.

Derek and Emily both carried bags filled with food, the scents of greasy burgers and fries a welcome distraction from the heavy atmosphere that had settled over the team. 

"Seems like it’s gonna be a long night," Rossi sighed, his voice deep with the exhaustion that had already begun to settle into his bones. He dropped down into one of the chairs around the conference table. 

You barely looked up, your stomach growling in protest. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the smell of food hit you.

Without a second thought, you grabbed one of the boxes of fries from Derek’s hand and sat down, your back against the cool metal of the chair as you dug into the food.

“Thanks,” you murmured around a mouthful, not looking up as you continued to eat. 

The others began settling in, the murmurs of conversation filling the room, but there was one sound that was noticeably absent—the sound of Spencer's voice.

It had been hours since the awkward exchange between you and him, and you hadn’t had a chance to talk since.

You barely noticed when Spencer walked past the table until he mumbled something under his breath, barely audible over the low hum of the team settling in. 

"I'm not hungry." 

You kept eating, trying to distract yourself, but your heart ached in a way you couldn’t explain.

You missed Spencer’s warmth,the way you’d work side by side, always in sync.

But now, there was nothing.

You had no idea what had happened—what had gone wrong. And that uncertainty gnawed at you, making your chest tighten every time you thought about it. 

You glanced up, watching as Spencer’s figure slipped quietly out of the room, his back to you as he moved toward the hallway.

Rossi, who had been watching the scene unfold, raised an eyebrow at the silent exchange.

Derek, who had been digging into his food, finally looked up at you. His face was usually so open, so easy to read, but right now, there was something in his expression that mirrored Emily’s. 

“Hey,” Derek said, his voice gentle but direct. “You alright?” 

You nodded quickly, not trusting your voice to answer. You were trying so hard to hold it together, to focus on the task at hand, but all you could feel was Spencer’s absence.

"Yeah," you finally murmured, forcing a small smile. "Just hungry."

The case was wrapped up by the next day after a grueling night of work, punctuated by greasy fast food and a few stolen naps here and there.

The sense of relief was palpable as the team boarded the jet for the flight back home. The usual hum of quiet conversation and rustling papers filled the cabin, but you didn’t participate.

Instead, you sank into one of the plush seats and fell asleep almost immediately, your exhaustion taking over the moment you closed your eyes. 

Spencer sat across the aisle, his book open in his lap, though his eyes weren’t scanning the pages.

Instead, they were fixed on you.

The rise and fall of your chest, the way your head tilted slightly to the side as you rested—he couldn’t help but watch. It was a habit he’d developed over the years, this quiet observation of you. But now, it was tinged with something heavier. 

He missed you. 

Usually, these flights home were his favorite part of the job. You’d either challenge him to a card game, always finding new ways to try and outwit him (and sometimes succeeding), or you’d sit beside him and attempt to read over his shoulder.

He could still hear your exasperated sighs whenever he turned the page too quickly, knowing you barely managed to finish the first paragraph before he’d already moved on.

He could only sit there, the book forgotten in his hands, as he replayed the words that had been haunting him since the case started. 

“I don’t like it.” 

He hadn’t meant to overhear the conversation between you and Derek, but he had.

The way Derek had said, almost teasingly, that Spencer would do anything for you—it had been the truth.

Spencer would do anything for you. He cared about you in ways that he couldn’t fully articulate, in ways that went beyond logic or reason. But it was your response that had cut through him like a knife. 

“I don’t like it.” 

Those four words had been replaying in his head, over and over again, like a broken record. At first, he tried to rationalize it.

Maybe you were just joking, or maybe he’d misunderstood the context. But no matter how he tried to spin it, the meaning stayed the same. 

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like him caring about you. 

The realization had been like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t meant to be a bother, hadn’t realized that his presence, his actions—his feelings—might be unwelcome.

It tore at him, the thought that his care might have been suffocating, that it might have pushed you away instead of bringing you closer. 

He closed his book with a soft thud, unable to focus on the words anymore. His gaze drifted back to you, still sleeping.

He wondered if you had any idea how much you meant to him. If you knew how much he valued every moment you spent together, every smile, every laugh. 

But maybe that was the problem. Maybe he’d cared too much, given too much of himself. And in doing so, he’d crossed some invisible line, made you feel something you couldn’t say aloud. 

Spencer sighed quietly, leaning back in his seat as he stared out the window. He wanted to talk to you, to ask what you’d meant, to understand.

But the fear of hearing the truth—that he was a burden, that you didn’t want his care—kept his words locked tightly inside. 

So, he sat in silence, watching you sleep from afar.

Emily’s gentle touch on your shoulder roused you from your nap. The hum of the jet engines had stopped, and as you blinked yourself awake, you realized that nearly everyone else had already left.

You grabbed your bag groggily, trailing after Emily as she led the way off the plane. 

Once back at the BAU, you headed to your desk to grab a few last-minute things before heading home. The bullpen was mostly empty now, the soft glow of desk lamps casting long shadows across the space.

But your steps faltered when you noticed Spencer still seated at his desk, his focus seemingly glued to a stack of papers in front of him. 

You hesitated, debating whether to say something. But you couldn’t stop yourself—it was instinctual, this pull to check on him, to make sure he was okay.

Because you cared about him. 

“You should go home, Spence,” you said softly, standing at your desk across from his. The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, and you winced, worried it might irritate him further. 

Spencer’s head jerked up at the sound of your voice, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before they darted back to the papers on his desk. “Still need to get some paperwork done,” he mumbled, his voice low and distant as he picked up his pen again. 

That was it. That response—cold, dismissive, and completely unlike him—pushed you to your breaking point. You couldn’t take it anymore, the distance, the tension, the ache of not knowing what you’d done to make him pull away. 

“Spencer, did I do something? Or did—” you started, your words tumbling out in a rush, driven by the desperate need for answers. 

His hand froze mid-sentence, the pen hovering above the page. Slowly, he set it down, his movements deliberate as he leaned back in his chair.

For the first time in what felt like days, he looked directly at you—really looked at you. 

His expression was a mix of weariness and pain, and it stopped you in your tracks. 

“Did you do something?” he repeated quietly, almost as if he couldn’t believe you’d asked the question. A bitter laugh escaped his lips, but there was no humor in it. “No, you didn’t do anything. Not really.” 

“Then why—” You gestured helplessly between the two of you, your frustration bubbling over. “Why are you acting like this? Like you don’t even want to be near me?” 

Spencer’s jaw tightened, and he glanced away, staring down at his desk. 

“I don’t wanna seem like I care too much,” Spencer said, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and hurt.

You stared at him, trying to make sense of what he was saying. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft hum of the neon light above you, its flicker almost mocking the distance now between you. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, your voice trembling slightly. 

Spencer stood abruptly, his gaze sharp as he grabbed his bag, avoiding your eyes. “Nothing,” he muttered, his tone flat.

“Hey, no,” you said, walking toward him, your steps firm despite the tightening in your chest.

“No, you don’t get to do this, Spencer.” You stood in front of him now, blocking his path, your heart racing as he glared down at you. “You can’t just shut me out and then expect me to move on like nothing happened.” 

He didn’t respond at first, but you could feel the tension rolling off him, his anger simmering beneath the surface.

You bit your lip hard, the pain sharp as you tried to keep your composure. Blood welled up, a bitter tang on your tongue, but it barely registered as you looked into his eyes, searching for something—anything—that would tell you where you stood. 

Spencer’s gaze flicked down to your lip, his eyes softening for a moment as if the sight of you hurting made him hurt too.

He closed his eyes briefly, taking in a slow breath. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, tinged with regret. 

“You said you don’t like it,” he murmured, his words hesitant. 

Your heart skipped a beat.You had no idea where this was going, but you felt the space between the two of you growing heavier with each passing second. You swallowed, your eyes flitting nervously across his face as you stepped closer to him. 

“Don’t like what?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper, afraid of pushing him further away with a raised tone. 

Spencer’s gaze fixed on you, his disappointment clear. “You don’t like that I would do anything for you,” he said, his voice breaking just slightly. 

The words struck you like a punch to the gut, and you took a step back. Memories of your conversation with Derek came flooding back—his words, the concern in his voice.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you barely registered Spencer’s disappointed stare. 

“I heard your conversation,” he added, his voice distant, wounded. 

“Did you hear all of it?” you asked, your eyes searching his, the confusion on your face undeniable. 

“What?” he muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly. 

“The rest of what I said,” you clarified, your voice softening as you felt the distance between you begin to close.

You gave him a small, tender smile, one that barely reached your eyes. “I assume you didn’t hear what I said after that.” 

Spencer's shoulders slumped slightly, the tension draining from his body, but the disappointment remained. “I heard enough,” he replied. 

You sighed, your hand reaching out to gently touch his.

“I also told Derek that you care too much.” Spencer flinched at your words, as though they pained him, and you felt a flicker of guilt. But you weren’t done yet. “I’m not finished.” 

He looked at you, eyes wide with something close to fear, as if bracing for the words that might break him.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your emotions. “I said that I’m worried you endanger yourself for me. Look, Spence…” you hesitated, your throat tightening, “I don’t like making you worry. That’s why I said what I said. It scares me that you put yourself in danger. For me.” 

As your words lingered in the air, Spencer’s face softened, and his eyes flickered with a sudden realization.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair, and for a moment, he looked almost fragile, as though the weight of everything had suddenly hit him. 

“I… I didn’t mean—” His words caught in his throat, and he stumbled over his apology. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood everything. I should’ve listened better. I shouldn’t have assumed…” His voice broke. “I'm sorry.I shouldn't have pushed you away like that. I care about you so much, and I… I just… I’m sorry.” 

The rawness of his apology struck you harder than you expected. You could feel the sincerity in every word.

But before you could say anything, the urge to hold him—comfort him—overwhelmed you. 

Without thinking, you stepped forward, your arms reaching around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, the warmth of his body grounding you, and for the first time all day, the chaos inside you started to settle. 

Spencer stood still for a moment, clearly surprised by the sudden closeness. But then he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer.

You could feel the rapid beating of his heart against your chest, mirroring your own. 

You closed your eyes, your voice soft but steady as you spoke into his neck, your words laced with emotion. “Spence… I care about you more than you’ll ever know,” you murmured, your hand gently stroking the back of his head as if to comfort him. “I don’t like being away from you. The thought of you putting yourself in danger for me… it’s just too much.” 

You felt Spencer's breath hitch against your skin, and he tightened his arms around you, as if trying to reassure himself that you were really there, that you weren’t going anywhere. 

“I know I should’ve said it better,” you continued, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of your words. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t care.” 

Spencer’s grip tightened. For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Finally, he pulled back slightly, his hands lingering on your waist.

His eyes searching yours with a mixture of tenderness and uncertainty. “You mean everything to me, you know that? I just… I just don’t want to hurt you. I don’t know how to stop myself sometimes.” 

You smiled softly. “I know, Spence.” 

He nodded slowly, a faint but genuine smile tugging at his lips as he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, but you shook your head. 

“Yes, you do,” you whispered back, holding him even tighter, as if reaffirming your place in each other's lives.

[lowkeyren]

reverse dating tropes w hsr men!

in which — what the title suggests / those classic fanfic tropes but with a twist

featuring — boothill, jing yuan, blade (separately) x gn!reader

✧.* — wc: total 1.5k, used up half my brain for this (the other half is for pt2 w aven sunday geppie!!), lovesick boothill + clingy jy + jealous blade fr, anyway pls enjoy! reblogs r appreciated <3

gepard aven sunday vers here!

boothill ꩜ .ᐟ

love at many sights with boothill whose memory card was tinkered with, and every time you meet, he thinks he's seeing you for the first time, so he falls for you over and over again. 

when boothill returned from a dangerous mission, it was evident that he had endured significant damage. his once sleek and polished exterior was now marred by dents and scratches, and his mechanical limbs were either partially missing or severely damaged. the exposed wiring, usually neatly tucked away beneath scraps of metals, now hung in tangled strands, sparking occasionally with residual energy.

he looked barely salvageable. it's safe to say that the mechanics had a hell of a time fixing him.

though they were skilled enough to piece him back together, his memory card wasn’t as lucky. a tinkering in his system left him incapable of recalling or retaining information in his synthetic brain, temporarily —leaving the mechanics scrambling to find a solution.

weeks later, you find yourself walking down the familiar corridors of the laboratory where your favourite cyborg is being held for reparation.

boothill’s eyes immediately land on yours when you enter the lab. “well ain’t this a surprise! haven’t seen ya in a good long while.” boothill drawls, tipping his hat your way, his voice carrying a metallic twang. 

"i heard you took a bit of a tumble, figured someone should come make sure you didn’t lose all your screws." you shrug nonchalantly, a smirk playing on your lips.

boothill's eyes flicker for a moment, taking in the curve forming on your lips. he thinks you’re adorable with that infectious smile of yours. 

“heh, nothin’ bad, just had a r-r-run in with some cuties" he says, failing to hide the glitch that caused his voice to stutter. (and that damn synesthesia beacon! he swears he’ll get it fixed this time around…)

“guess you took more than a tumble huh...” you lean casually against the workbench, the sterile scent of machinery and the hum of various devices filled the air; your gaze sweeps over the freshly repaired parts of boothill's metallic frame, “anyway, glad to see that you’re mostly fine now." 

“aww! do ya care ‘bout me?” he teases, his grin widening, revealing his pointy teeth peeking out mischievously. you don’t reply, your eyes glinting with the faintest hint of amusement dancing in them.

"boothill, we go through this every time, your memory card's still damaged. you forget things sometimes, so for the 5th time this week, yes i do care about you.”

boothill's expression shifts, a mixture of realization and sheepishness crossing his features. "right, right," he murmurs, scratching the back of his head with his metallic hand. "sorry 'bout that, sugar. guess i just keep forgettin'."

you chuckle and shake your head, finding the situation amusing. he feels like he might overheat from the sheer warmth radiating from your smile.

“you’re beautiful, date me.” (he didn’t mean to blurt that outloud)

you raise your eyebrows at the sudden compliment, “why thank you,” a surprised laugh escapes your lips.

“—and we’re already dating, silly.”

a shower of sparks erupts from his circuits, you can particularly hear the fans inside him sputter and whir. you rush to his side, concern etched on your face.

“wh- are you okay?! you’re short circuiting again!”

and this happens every time his memory lapses. you offer an apology to the mechanic on the next shift for the extra work required to fix yet another damaged wire after your visits. perhaps they should ban you from getting too close to boothill, lest he completely breaks down again like that one time where you told him, yes you actually kissed before.

jing yuan ୭ ˚.

"secret relationship" with jing yuan but he is completely unaware of how his public displays of affection towards you keep revealing the supposed secrecy of your relationship.

on the rare case that the general is found in his office, you are there too, beside him.

“pleeeease? just one kiss, really really miss you, darling”

“no jing yuan, not now…”

he wraps his arms around you as he leans in, caging you from the back. he rests his chin on your shoulder, “then how about a kiss on the cheeks?” he murmurs in your ear. you try to push him away, but he just chuckles softly against your neck, his arms still secure around you.

“no, and get off me before someone sees!” you protest, feeling your face flush from the close proximity, and the tightening of his arms suggests that he has no intention of releasing you just yet.

this stubborn man… you swear you’re gonna burst a blood vessel someday.

as if to echo your exasperation; he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, peppering it with nibbles and gentle kisses. jing yuan certainly knows how to test your limits, yet his affectionate gestures never fail to chip away at your resolve.

suddenly, a series of loud knocks come from the door, you freeze, and immediately attempt to wiggle your way out of his grasp. but he remains unfazed, his hold on you firm, and seemingly unbothered by the interruption.

the door bursts open, “general! there’s a situation at starskiff ha—ven...”  yanqing trails off as his eyes widen at your position. the room falls into a momentary silence as yanqing's gaze shifts between you and his general, his expression reflecting a blend of shock and embarrassment.

clearing his throat awkwardly, yanqing stammers, "i-im sorry for interrupting... i’ll t-take my leave now!” with a hurried nod, he practically sprints out of the room.

oh bless that kid’s poor eyes… 

you shoot a glare at jing yuan from the corner of your eyes, you just know that he has a shit eating grin on his face right now. nowadays, it’s probably common knowledge that the general’s most treasured person is you, evidently shown by how he latches himself onto you every time you’re within his vicinity. you wouldn’t be surprised if the entirety of xianzhou knows about your supposed “secret” relationship.

“so… can i have my kiss now?” 

aeons, he’s insufferable. (you love him tho!!!!!)

blade ؛ ଓ

"fake dating" with blade but you are actually dating —somehow everyone is convinced you aren't.

“blink twice if you need help.” march whispers-shout; dan heng leans against the doorway, blocking the way into your room, nods in agreement.

“this is absurd… i’m alright guys, really!” you try to reassure your friends, frustration edging into your voice. though no matter how many times you insist that no blade isn't holding you hostage and that you are indeed in a relationship with him, they seem convinced otherwise, somehow deducing that you're not able to speak freely.

you sigh in resignation, knowing that they aren’t going to relent anytime soon, and with blade idling in your room, you can't afford to keep him waiting any longer. “dan heng please, let me through, he’s been waiting for me for the past 10 minutes now…”

“good, let him wait.” dan heng responds curtly. (what a guy)

march takes hold of your hands, “do you owe the stellaron hunters something, and him out of everyone?! he looks scary…and totally not your type!” 

“not their type?” a low voice rings out from behind dan heng, the three of you turn immediately and see blade looming at your doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“stellaron hunter. stay back.” dan heng furrows his eyebrows, his stance defensive as he pulls out his weapon, positioning himself to block you and march. sensing the growing tension, you step forward, reaching out to gently grasp at dan heng’s shoulder. 

(blade’s expression darkens at your hand resting on him)

“it’s okay dan heng, he means no harm.” dan heng hesitates, his grip on his weapon remains tight, but he doesn't move to strike. so you slowly move between him and blade, “see? i’m fine… he’s not gonna hurt me.” you smile reassuringly at your friends. 

just then, as if to further aggravate dan heng, blade settles his hand on your waist. dan heng’s hand is visibly twitching now. “what? can’t i touch what’s mine?”

dan heng’s eyes narrow, “...we still don’t believe you, leave now. before it’s too late.”

before you can interject, blade grabs your chin, silencing any words of protest with a sudden kiss. caught off guard, your eyes widen as the unexpected gesture leaves you momentarily stunned. but you soon reciprocate his kiss, his intensity drawing you in.

(march quickly covers her eyes with her hands)

“there. now leave us alone.” and with that, he pulls you into your room, slamming the door shut behind, pinning you against it. 

it’s just the both of you now, finally.

“did you really have to touch him.” his voice tinged with possessiveness. “blade, he would’ve hurt you, i didn’t mean—” he shuts you up with another kiss, more desperate this time, welp guess you’re stuck with him for the night.

though your friends might not believe that a person like you would “be in cahoots” with someone as dangerous as him; convincing them otherwise is a task for another time. tonight, he wants your attention focused solely on him, and him only.

✧.*

masterlist gepard aven sunday vers here!

[levisjinchuriki]

always will be - toji fushiguro

summary: you know the key to a man's heart is through his stomach. toji is no exception

warning: fluff!!!!!!, kisses

written separately, but can be read as pt. 2 of more to love!

toji had always been intimidatingly fit. his sharp abs, toned arms, and broad chest reflected years of discipline and a lifestyle that demanded he stay in peak condition. it wasn’t something he flaunted—walking around shirtless in his own home was just how he lived. he didn’t think much of it, and neither did you.

after deciding to move in together, subtle changes crept into his life, ones he hadn’t anticipated. every night, he came home to a hot and ready meal. you always made sure it was his favorites, learning his preferences without him needing to say much. and the snacks—that was his biggest weakness. you were thoughtful enough to have something sweet or savory on hand, excusing it by saying “just in case you get hungry later.”

now, as toji pads around your shared home, shirtless as always, you can’t help but notice the differences in his physique. his abs are softer now, the faintest hint of a tummy forming where there used to be none. his arms, still strong, have lost some of their definition.

the late-night snacks you share, the hearty dinners you insist he eats after long days, and the lazy mornings spent curled up in bed instead of at the gym— all of it has added up.

at first, toji doesn’t think much of it. he’s always had a big appetite—one you happily indulge. but over the weeks, the changes become harder to ignore. his pants fit a little snug, and the shirts that once fit comfortably now cling to his chest and stomach.

toji glances down at his stomach, giving it an experimental poke. his finger sinks into a soft layer that wasn’t there before. he grunts in realization, muttering to himself “guess i’ve been slacking.”

but it’s not slacking—it’s comfort. love. the ease of sharing a life with someone who makes him feel whole.

“babe” your voice calls sweetly from the kitchen. “breakfast is ready!”. the smell of sugar and cinnamon hits him as he makes his way to the kitchen. and then he sees it– the biggest, gooiest cinnamon roll he’s ever laid eyes on, sitting proudly on a plate you’re setting on the table.

“you’re trying to fatten me up, aren’t you?” he accuses with a smirk.

you glance up, genuinely confused. “what are you talking about?”. cooking for him has always brought you joy.  watching him devour every meal you set in front of him, finishing with a satisfied hum and going up for another serving makes you feel like you’re doing something right. he’s never complained once, and the empty plates he leaves behind are all the validation you’ve ever needed.

toji gestures at his waist, where the elastic band of his sweatpants sits noticeably tighter than it used to. “these don’t fit anymore”.

your cheeks flush. you know full well you’re the reason for the changes, but it’s not something you feel guilty about. if anything, it makes you proud.

“not my fault” you protest, crossing your arms with a playful pout. “you’re the one who goes back for thirds”. your eyes wander over him, noticing how his facial features have softened in the time since you moved in together. his jawline isn’t quite as sharp as it used to be, and there’s a slight fullness in his cheeks now—a small change, one you can’t help but adore.

it’s not just his body that’s softened. there’s a new ease to him, a sense of comfort and peace that wasn’t there before. it shows in the way his shoulders relax when he walks through the door, in the way his laughter comes more freely these days, and in the warmth of his teasing smirk now.

“i think it’s cute” you add softly, your lips curving into a warm smile. you mean it, too. toji might not have the razor-sharp physique he once did, but he’s still the man you fell in love with—strong, handsome, and completely yours.

“cute?” toji raises an eyebrow. “i’m supposed to be intimidating, not cute” he retorts, his deep voice tinged with mock offense. but even as he says it, he knows the truth—he’s gone soft being with you, in more ways than one.

“yeah” you tease, stepping within reach. you stroke his cheek with your thumb. “but you look happy”. 

you’re not wrong. for the first time in his life, toji feels truly content. he doesn’t have to keep his guard up or keep himself for the next battle. instead, he has you, a warm home, and a life that no longer feels like a constant fight for survival.

if it costs him a few extra pounds, he can live with it—because for the first time, it feels like he’s really living.

he smiles, the sincerity in his expression reaching his eyes. “i am happy” he says quietly.

your heart swells at his admission, warmth spreading through your chest. your own smile mirrors his as you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“you better be. or i’ll stop feeding you” you tease after pulling away.

toji’s eyes narrow, his brows drawing together in a warning. “don’t you dare”. 

before you can react, he pulls you into his lap, guiding your back against his chest with ease. his grip tightens around your waist, and you settle into him, feeling the heat of his body pressing against yours. you both share a few playful, soft and lingering kisses before toji reaches for his breakfast. 

he breaks off a piece and offers you the first bite, feeding it to you with such tenderness. his lips hover near yours as he leans in to steal a quick kiss, humming in appreciation of the sweet frosting that sticks to you. 

if you’re being honest– you’ve noticed the changes in him. the extra pounds that have slowly added up, the snug fit of his shirts, the softness in his once-defined features. but it’s not something that bothers you. in fact, it only makes you love him more. the softening of his body is a symbol of the comfort, the safety, and the ease he’s found with you.

you rest your head against him, loving that he’s comfortable with you, comfortable in this space you’ve created together. toji doesn’t have to be the intimidating, hardened man he was before. he’s allowed to relax, to soften in all the best ways.

“i think you look perfect” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

the edge of toji's smirk falters. perfect. it's not a word he’s used to associating with himself. toji knows his scars, his flaws, the rough edges he’s tried to smooth out over the years. perfect was for things he never thought he could have, for people he never thought he deserved.

but here you are, saying it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

toji tightens his grip around your waist, pulling you closer until there’s not an inch of space between you. he doesn’t speak right away. instead, he lowers his head, his nose brushing softly against your temple, as he repeats the sentence in his head.

“you really think so?” he asks, his voice hesitant.

you tilt your head to meet his gaze, your smile warm and unwavering. “of course. you’ve always been perfect to me. always will be".

the sincerity in your voice is enough to ease his worries. he believes you, knowing you'd never lie to him. he doesn’t know how to respond—how to put into words what your belief in him does to his heart.

so instead, he leans in, brushing his lips against yours. he's gentle, even as he deepens it. it’s not just a kiss; it’s a thank you, a promise, and a confession all rolled into one.

“guess i can live with that” he murmurs against your lips, his smirk returning, softer now. there’s a warmth in his eyes, an acceptance of something he’s still trying to believe.

---

a/n: thank you for reading. happy new year!! <3 what are your resolutions this year?

[starmocha]

Pillow Talk [Caleb/Reader ★ 2008 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] “Why are you wearing my boxers?” A/N: 😔 Me the other day, actually… [Approximately 2 PM on a random week day] Me: *doing 2 PM work things, being a Good Employee™* My Brain: Wearing Caleb’s boxers to sleep Me: YES MA’AM ON IT 🫡🫡🫡 Tag list: @miudle @alfredosaws @nezukoo-channn @voidsylus @rose-tinted-kalopsia @valkyyriia @natimiles 【 request to be added 】

“Look at you…”

You felt the warmth of the bed cover pulled back, the sudden cool air made you shivered and curled up in bed. Still cold, you reluctantly opened your bleary eyes to find the cause of the sudden temperature change. You blinked your eyes a few times, allowing them to slowly adjust to the darkness that surrounded you. Although it took a few seconds for your vision to focus, you made out a familiar form in front of you.

“…Caleb?”

“Sorry, pipsqueak,” he said, his hair still dripping wet from his shower, the water droplets dampening the simple white t-shirt he wore along with a pair of navy-blue cotton pajama bottoms.

Caleb’s own eyes gazed at you, drifting down and lingering a few seconds appreciatively at the sight of the white lacy bralette you wore before he took notice of the familiar bottoms you had on. He huffed, feeling a strange mixture of emotions simultaneously, ranging from exasperation to amusement, but also with the faintest hint of arousal.

“They’re too big on you,” he said simply.

“I don’t care,” you responded defiantly, making Caleb chuckled in amusement at your cheek tone. He playfully poked your nose, your face scrunching up immediately in annoyance. You wriggled your nose at him, sighing exasperatedly, “Caleb…”

“Hm?”

You scooted over in bed, making room for him next to you. When he didn’t react, you batted your eyelashes playfully at him, his resolve weakened instantly as he gave in to your whims. Sighing, Caleb climbed into bed, settling comfortably on his side as he leaned over, his body just barely hovering above yours.

“So,” he drawled, his head tilted downwards and one of his hands already reaching for the waistband of your bottoms, “Why are you wearing my boxers?”

“Because I like them.”

“This girl…”

“I like everything of yours.”

“Clearly,” he said, tugging the boxers lower, his eyes gleaming at the intimate sight hidden beneath.

You stopped him. “Ca-Caleb…!”

“Hm?” He smiled at you in the darkness. Within seconds, he was gasping when you pushed him back, allowing him to sit fully upright with his back resting against the headboard, and he watched with intrigue as you climbed on top of him until you straddled him comfortably. He sighed again, “Your way then, pipsqueak?”

He breathed in sharply when he fully felt you over his pajama bottoms. “…you’re drenched,” he said, voice soft, his arousal becoming stronger. One hand cradled your chin, thumb brushing over your lips, and his eyes darkened with desire as he scrutinized your every feature. He appeared to struggle to remain composed, his voice a little hoarser than intended as he questioned you, “…what were you dreaming about?”

“You.”

“Me.”

“Uh huh.”

In Caleb’s mind, such brazen teasing meant that you were ready for anything he had in store. In seconds, you felt yourself instantly pulled closer to him, realizing belatedly that he had used his Evol to manipulate the gravity around you. There was no time to think or react, your lips suddenly crashed upon his, the intensity of his kisses stealing away your breath, your heart racing at lightning speed as you struggled to keep up with him.

“Tell me about your dream,” he mumbled lazily, the sounds and feel of his kisses were making you squirmed on top of him, and though his large calloused hands were on your hips, he didn’t appear to be too bothered enough to stop you from moving around. If anything, it felt like he was encouraging you.

“Mmm…” It took you a few seconds to register his words, your sleep-addled mind was barely alert, or at the very least, it was only able to focus on the feel of his member hardening beneath you. You instinctively grinded against it, making Caleb hissed in pleasure. His fingers dug into your flesh and you startled, realizing what was happening. Panting softly, you mumbled evasively, “…I don’t remember…”

“Liar,” he rebuked. He laughed off your pout. “You said it was about me…what was I doing in your dream?”

“Spending time with me.”

“Yeah? Like right now?” He humored you, clearly catching on quicker than you would have liked. It wasn’t surprising really, since it seemed Caleb always did know you better than even yourself.

You whimpered, feeling him just barely thrusting up, the thin cotton fabric not enough of a barrier to keep you from feeling him.

“Ca-Caleb…”

You guided his hands to the waistband of the boxers you wore—his, your brain mercilessly reminded you, fueling your steadily growing arousal—and with your silent permission, Caleb made quick work of pulling them down and discarding them off to the side of the bed.

“My boxers looked good on you,” he husked, his warm breath against your neck, your belly doing somersaults as you were more than acutely aware of his presence so close to you and also of his own desires mirroring yours. He continued in that same lazy tone, “But I think you look better without them—Just. Like. This.”

“Ah—!” You gasped, pitch higher than normal, into his neck, your hands gripping tightly his shoulders to ground yourself as you felt his fingers brushing against your sex. Instinctively, you rocked forward, wanting more of his touch against you—inside you—needing more friction than what he was giving you right now.

Your own fingers found their way to his pajama bottoms, tugging on the waistband impatiently. Laughing, he kissed your cheek as he helped you pulled his bottoms down enough to free himself. Eagerly, you rubbed yourself against him, his own aroused pants mingled with your soft moans.

“In-inside me…” you gasped, wanting to just sink down and take all of him in that moment.

That same, playful laughter of his resounded in your ears, piercing through the growing haze of lust that was clouding your mind. Your head was tilted upwards, pulled into another kiss as he happily swallowed all of those cute little needy whimpers you were making. “Not tonight,” he murmured to your frustration.

“Why not?” you demanded, annoyed.

“I kind of like seeing you all frustrated like this,” he admitted unashamedly.

Before you could even protest, he had you reduced to a helpless state, your mind unable to form a single coherent sentence, only able to focus in on the feeling of him suddenly rutting against you, every brush of his cock against your slicked lips had you trembling, begging and pleading for him to actually fuck you, but he ignored your helpless cries, delighting in seeing you fall apart, aching to have his cock fill your needy little pussy.

“Oh god, oh god, please, Caleb, please…!”

“That was a cute sound,” he mumbled in between kisses, his low groans making you craved him even more. “It’s just for me, right?”

You whimpered, practically sobbing, feeling overwhelmed by the desperate need to feel him pounding deeply inside you, but also well aware that the stimulation from him just humping against you was also enough to make you feel your climax quickly approaching.

“Please, Caleb, please, please, please…!”

He was breathing heavily, his control seeming to slip as he took in the sight of you so submissive to your pleasure, just begging him so cutely, he was ready to give in to you. Caleb inhaled sharply, his hands gripping your hips as you rubbed against him harder.

“Pl-please what…pipsqueak?” he asked, voice barely steady, “Want my cock inside you? Want me to fuck you that badly?”

“Ye-yes!”

“Why should I?” he asked, smirking as he continued to mess with you, your immediate whines the reaction he wanted. He grabbed your chin, making you locked eyes with him. His thumb pressed against your lips, his voice low and knowing, “Can’t even use your fucking words.”

“Caleb!” you cried into his shoulder. “Please…please…fuck me! Please fuck me! I need you so badly, Caleb! Please! I want your cock inside me! I need it inside me, Caleb!”

Caleb was panting heavily, his mind reeling in shock, not expecting you to actually beg him with such lewd words. “Damn it,” he groaned, his resolve broken completely in that moment as he felt you trembling on top of him, your desperate pleas unexpectantly turning him on more than he would have thought. He laughed hollowly, resigned, his hands grabbing your hips again. “Alright…you win…pipsqueak…”

You squealed as you felt him lifting you up and then guiding you down on his cock.

“So fucking wet,” he groaned, already setting a rapid pace, “you’re taking me…so well, pipsqueak…it’s like you were…made for me…”

Every thrust up was reaching you where you wanted and needed in that moment, your moans and cries mingled with Caleb’s heavy breathing and groans. He panted, “Your face…looks so erotic, I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”

“D-don’t look at me like that—ah!”

As he bounced you on his cock, you were both lost in each other’s eyes, all words gone in that moment as you could only focus on the feel of him thrusting deeply into you, your walls squeezing him, every pulse had him groaning in pleasure, wanting to completely ruin you, make you completely his.

Your eyes squeezed shut, your moans growing in pitch as you felt your pleasure peaking, your cries coming out louder as Caleb started moving faster as he felt you nearing the edge, wanting to see you fall completely apart for him.

“Cum, cum on my cock,” he urged you, the feel of his fingers digging so painfully into your hips a sure sign that there would be bruise marks in the morning. He hissed and gasped, “That’s it…that’s it…good girl…cum...cum for me…”

“Caleb—! I’m…I’m…!”

As you rode out your pleasure, you could still feel Caleb driving himself into you faster and harder, showing no sign of stopping or slowing until his own climax was reached. You squealed as he used you, his hands groping along your body, his lips fumbled against yours and when he grazed his teeth over your shoulder, he finally released inside you, your name spilling from his lips in pure ecstasy.

You fell against him, weightless and spent, quietly sobbing into his chest, completely overstimulated, the lingering pleasure still wracking your body. His arms wrapped around, holding you close to him, safe and secured within his warmth.

“Oh, fuck, look at you,” he groaned, his eyes drifting to where you were both still connected, “So fucking…pretty…covered in my cum.”

You whined against his chest, and he laughed, his hands running up and down your back soothingly. When he pulled out of you, you could feel his release also flowing freely down your thighs.

“Hm, very pretty,” he murmured again, kissing your lips sweetly. He smiled when you responded the same. “So sweet and docile…”

He settled more comfortably in bed, dragging you to lay on top of him. Once again, you felt his familiar hand rubbing your back up and down, the soothing motion alongside his gentle voice quickly worked on lulling you back to sleep.

“Next time, I will spoil you, pipsqueak,” he promised, smiling as you lay against him.

You hummed into his chest happily.

“What do you want for breakfast in the morning?” he asked, his own eyes feeling heavy now as he began to nod off as well.

“Whatever,” you murmured into his chest sleepily.

“Whatever? Alright, I can make whatever,” he said, still able to joke with you. You giggled softly as he continued flippantly, “I can make you something Chinese, I can make you something English, I can make what…ever…”

He yawned in the middle of his sentence, his eyes no longer able to stay opened. As he let them drift close, he smiled again as he watched you fall asleep in his arms. His lips pressed to the top of your head, his mind slipping away into unconsciousness, and he joined you in a peaceful slumber, in a world where it was only just the two of you together—forever.

I can make you happy.

[tasteracha]

raspberry stains.

word count: 1.6k

pairing: lee minho x afab!reader

warnings: multiple orgasms, foodplay, oral sex, smut - MINORS DNI

synposis: what do you do when you see minho eating raspberries like this. what a whore. (no raspberries were harmed in the making of this fic).

“i got some raspberries from the farmer’s market,” minho’s first words to you are when you shuffle into your living room, still in your pajamas. he shows you the plate of washed berries he had been munching on, way too awake for the hour that it was. you despise minho for being a morning person, for waking up hours before you and doing things like going to the farmer’s market instead of laying in bed with you. 

“good morning to you too,” you take a seat next to him on the couch, curling up against his side. at least if he didn’t partake in morning cuddles with you he never denied you couch cuddles.

“have one,” he says, holding out a berry to your lips. his fingers are stained red with the bursted juices and they brush against your lips as he feeds you. you suck his thumb into your mouth along with the berry and his pupils shake as you hollow your cheeks out a bit to get the flavor off of his skin. the sweetness of the raspberry floods your mouth and you move away from him to chew and swallow, the wheels in your head turning as you track his reaction to what you thought was an innocent act. 

suddenly, you were wide awake; if he was going to be horny about this so early in the morning, then so were you.

“give me another,” you demand as your hands reach towards his pants, unbuttoning them and opening the zipper with expert motions. he pauses, his eyes heavy lidded as he looks at you with an open-mouthed gaze. your eyes flicker between his rapidly hardening crotch and the plate of raspberries as you wait for your words to register in his head through the horny daze. “do you need me to repeat myself?”

he shakes his head, his eyes clearing a bit as he scrambles to pick up a berry to feed to you. you let it rest on your tongue as you slide to your knees in front of him and free his cock from his boxers, pressing down on the fruit gently so it bursts in your mouth. you take the head of his cock into your mouth and you let the juice dribble out of your mouth until it drips down his length, staining him even redder than he already was. you pull away, wincing at the feeling of liquid dripping out of the corner of your mouth, but the look on his face is worth the discomfort. he looks gone, his eyes heavy on you, the weight of his awe of you hanging off of his every feature. 

“this gone and we barely did any foreplay,” you tease, sliding your hand up his cock to spread the redness around. “you must really like me.”

“if you don’t keep going i might die,” he says, ignoring your bait, completely serious. you flash him a grin before going down on him again, a sick satisfaction seeping through you when his cock jumps in your mouth. you take him as far as you can go, using your hand to make up for the rest of the space and you bob up and down, letting your saliva mingle with the berry until he’s wet and slippery. 

the flavor is divine; you always love his taste, musky and salty with the scent of his clean body wash intertwined, but the raspberry mixing with him is a cocktail that you never want to stop drinking. he slides his fingers into your hair to keep you close to him, and you give him a particularly dirty lick to his slit when you realize that it’s his clean hand - as sexy as this all is, you didn’t want to deal with cleaning the stickiness out of your hair later. 

he lets out breathy moans and pants in time with your movements and you want to edge him all day just so you can keep hearing the music he’s playing for you, but when you peek up at him you feel a tinge of sympathy for him. his neck is completely flushed and it trails up to his ears, the veins in his neck popping out from the effort it takes to hold back from thrusting up into your mouth. you pet his thigh with your free hand, a silent good boy that doesn’t go unnoticed by the way he throws his head back with a groan. you take pity on him, relaxing your throat so you could take him down and swallow around him. you stay there for as long as your body allows, only backing off when the need to breath flashes warning signals through your head. 

his moans turn into whines as you keep stroking him, a clear signal that he’s close. you open your mouth, lolling your tongue out to catch his release onto it. the picture that you make in front of him, lips stained red and mouth open for him, is enough to send him over the edge and his muscles lock as he comes with a spasm. you work him through it until his hand tightens in your hair, the tiny pinpricks of pain sending a wave of arousal through you. you swallow his release and show him your empty mouth, and his answer to that comes in the shape of a dry sob as he melts completely into the couch.

you don’t realize how wet you’ve gotten since starting this until you let him go, your attention divided between his post-orgasmic glow and the burn of pleasure you feel when you rub your thighs close together. you rest your head on his thigh as you catch your breath alongside him, and you slide your hand into your pants, content to lazily rub yourself off before sharing a shower with him to wash the berry juice away. 

“what are you doing?” he asks, his voice deep and gritty. 

“you’re not the only one who gets to come today,” you sigh against his thigh as you circle your clit with your fingers, the wetness there making the glide easy. 

“no, i mean what are you doing?” he repeats, the emphasis not making things any clearer for you. he rolls his eyes when you don’t get it before sitting up and joining you on the floor. he lifts you off your knees and pushes you towards the couch to sit so your positions are reversed with him on his knees in front of you. “this is my job, not yours.” 

he pops a couple berries into his own mouth, swirling them around his tongue as he slides your pants and underwear down to your ankles. he helps you take them off gently, tossing them aside before pushing your thighs apart. he dives into your pussy like a starved man, pushing the red juice into your folds and lapping it up again before repeating the process again and again. it’s so much better than your own fingers, the unpredictability of where his tongue was going next keeping you unprepared for the onslaught of sensations. you come embarrassingly fast, your thighs locking around his head as he slurps at you, obscene sounds filling the empty living room. 

he moves away when you start to twitch in oversensitivity and his mouth is completely stained red. it’s smeared around his lips like lipstick, and you pull him up for a kiss with urgency. the taste of raspberries mixed with both of you is euphoric, and you let out a content sigh into his mouth as your body relaxes. 

“i’m not done with you yet,” he releases your lips with a wet pop, a string of pink saliva connecting the two of you. he’s back down between your legs faster than you can register, his mouth finding your clit instantly. his tongue traces patterns against it, circles and swirls and shapes that you can’t name and it’s too much but it feels so good that any protests die on your tongue. 

“minho!” you cry out, and once his name leaves your lips you can’t stop, the five letters taking the shape of moans and whines until it’s all you can say or think. your thighs begin shaking but he doesn’t stop, eating you out steadfastly as if he was born to do it. 

“one more,” he says against your folds, his fingers joining the mess between your legs to hook into you, curling upwards. “you can give me one more, right?”

i’ll give you anything you want, you try to say, but it comes out in a series of unintelligible sounds. the burn of your orgasm comes slower this time, a fire building and exponentiating unlike the sparks of fireworks that you experienced the last time. it burns and glows brighter and brighter until it’s a white light behind your eyelids, your entire vision whiting out as you come against his lips. you can’t see it, but you can feel the smile he wears against your skin as you come down from it. 

when you blink your vision returns, just as he is climbing up to sit next to you. he pulls you into his lap, holding you close as your sluggish head tries to make sense of what just happened. you bask in the silence, your head pressed against his heartbeat, his breathing moving your body up and down against him calmly. 

“you know,” he breaks the quiet, his words a whisper into your hair. “we’re never going to be able to look at raspberries the same way again.”

“shut up.”

[dcxdpdabbles]

Please update Child Support, it’s hilarious!!!😂

John sighs, slumping on the table. Surrounding him were various bottles of dubious liquids. He found that human alcohol rarely gave him that special kick when he was trying to drink his stress away and would often hop over to a dimension with real fun ones.

He's been under a lot of stress lately.

Danny's potential sutiors were driving him crazy, not to mention the consent fear that he would mess up in a way Clockwork won't take kindly to. His son was slowly finding his footing in this world thanks to the SuperSons. His new school, some posh academy in Gotham, had far stricter policies in regards to bullying, so at least no one had given his boy any grief.

John highly doubted that meant he wasn't facing any verbal abuse. But it was better than the previous five schools he had attempted to send his child to. Danny had even come home one day, waving a permission form to join the astrology club at him, so John figured he owed Batman an enormous thanks. Something like a simple candlelight dinner.

If he could get the stick in the mud to say yes, that was.

"Is everything alright?" Barry asks, patting John on his shoulder. The British man groans into the table top, trying to hide away from the overly cheerful fellow.

He can't handle the Flash right now, not when John has finally gotten a moment of peace.

Sadly, the other didn't seem to get the memo. Barry pats his shoulder again, more insistant than before. John closes his eyes, trying to get the swirling votrex of dancing unicons to vanish from his sight - He did drink far too much Sparkle Shine Ale- as he mutters. "Danny wants to go on a date."

"Ah," Barry's voice takes on a teasing tone. "It's always hard realizing they're growing up."

"You don't understand." John utters in misery. "Dating is different in the Infinete Realms"

"How so?"

"It involves getting parent's permission before hand."

Barry makes a sound that might have been the start of a sentence, but his words are drowned out by a loud and powerful portal ripping the air above them. The rest of the Justice League - for John felt it was safer to get drunk away from his boy and choose to use the company lounge - spring to their feet.

Besides the location of the Watchtower, various security functions had gone into the blueprints of keeping the Justice League safe. Bruce and had installed defenses from paranormal entities. Every inch of the tower had some carvings that were said to be protective wards.

Bruce placed every ward, charm, and protective coating he could find from various cultures of Earth.

John was impressed with the fact Bruce had somehow been able to sniff out the frauds, back when he didn't even know magic was real.

If only they were powerful enough to keep this toerag away from him. John slowly raises his head far enough that his intoxicated eyes can glare at the being, who leaps out of the portal to land on his table with a thump.

"I beg of you, please allow me to date your son!" Klarion, Lord of Choas, drops to one knee and presents a bouquet of the Infinite Realm's most expensive roses. The roses shine and shimmer in various colors and never stay the same for too long. "Our marriage would be a tale for the ages!"

John can't even answer that ridiculous request before another portal rips open, and this time, Asmodeus, a king of demons in a few different realms, falls to his knees beside John's chair. He's in his more humanoid form, having heard the rumor that Danny preference said forms.

He obviously made sure that people would not forget his title of "Demon of lust"with the gorgeous human features he picked out, even if a pair of horns still stuck to his head.

He is presenting John precious jewels that many have lost their lives in an attempt to steal. Mosth had been slain by the lust demon before they even got to glanced at them. "My young lord, I humbly request your approval for your heir's right of dating. I-"

"Get lost! I was here first!" Klarion hisses, flinging magic at the lust demon, "I shall be the one to earn a date!"

"You worthless little worm!" Asmodeus growls, body shifting into a gaint beast that snares at the lord of choas. His once shining jewels now had black spots across them. "Your magic stained my jewels!"

John reaches for his other bottles as yet another voice joins the two arguing higher beings. He doesn't even want to check to see what the rest of the league thinks about all this.

"I, Trox king of the Goblins, have come to humbly request a date with Clockwork's heir -"

"NO! I was here first!"

"I'll shall prove that you worms are not worthy of Lord Danny's hand!"

John wonders, in the far conrers of his mind, if he should attempt to contact Clockwork about this. The emboloment of time was dangerous in a way that would usually mean he would avoid at all costs, but really, he doesn't think he can handle this anymore.

Every day, for the past three months, demons, ghosts, magic users, and whatever else in between would pop up, begging John to approve a date with Danny.

His son unawarely brought this about when he told John one morning before school that he was thinking about joining a dating app some of his classmates were talking about.

His innoccent words had been taken as a request for a mate by every non-human being across the mutiverse and now John was getting bombarded by beings foaming at the mouth, wanting to be the ones that had Clockwork as a in-law.

John was only human, magic powers aside, he couldn't handle this anymore.

Somewhere, he thinks he can hear his ex-lover laughing his ass off.

[spideyjimin]

what was i made for | jk

⏤ pairing: jungkook x female reader 

⏤ genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, and smut 

⏤ rating: 18+

⏤ warnings: a tiny bit of sad oc, alcohol consumption, oral sex (m receiving), swearing, some teasing, praising, penetrative sex, protected sex, rough sex, creampie, and multiple orgasms 

⏤ words: 8,833

⏤ summary: have you ever met someone with whom you instantly clicked? well yes, but never to the extent of how it happened with jungkook. in a matter of days, he made you feel like the prettiest and most special woman. right there and then, you understood what you were made for. 

 ⏤ author’s note: hi loves! here you have this fic! it was a pleasure to write it since it's been a while that i haven't written fluffy fics. i hope you enjoy it & it's always a pleasure to know what you think about it! have a wonderful day & week ahead!

MASTERLIST

Turning 30 wasn’t exactly how you pictured it to be. Since a very young age, you thought that by this stage you’d be in a long-term relationship and probably a mother. As years passed by, you simply hoped that you’d be in a relationship but all the dates you endured the past year made you realize that it would never be the case. 

Being single has never made you sad, you actually always enjoyed being on your own. Being independent is something you always sought to have, and you deeply treasure having it. However, this is quite a milestone in life and this time, being alone has a bit of a bittersweet taste. And it hurts. Although, in a way, you try to convince yourself that it’s better to be alone than in a bad relationship. 

As you’re looking at the people sitting at the table, most of them are engaged or married or living together, or having a child. Before, it used to not hurt you but today, it’s quite hard to look at them all with happiness. Nonetheless, the reason why you’re all gathered today truly makes you happy. Your best friend, Jin proposed to his girlfriend, Iseul and they reunited all their close friends to announce the fantastic news. You’re the only one aware of this because he asked for your advice for the proposal. 

The only other person aware of this is Jimin, Iseul’s brother. Jin prefers to have his approval since they are very close. He also asked for her father’s approval as the gentleman that he is. You got to meet Iseul’s brother quite a lot of times and he’s definitely a sweetheart. Jin and Iseul tried to set you up but between you, there’s only friendship, nothing more. 

While looking, your eyes land on a man who catches your attention. He’s honestly quite handsome, a kind of handsome you’ve never seen before. He looks innocent without looking innocent. It sort of doesn’t make sense but that’s how you’d describe him. Looking at his cute features makes him look quite innocent but then, his vibe definitely breathes ‘not innocent’. Maybe it’s caused by his short haircut. You’re not sure although that’s how you perceive him. 

For sure, you’re convinced that he’s probably already in a relationship. Guys like him are usually taken. They don’t stay single for a long time, they easily charm every person around them, and they can find their person quite fast. Your eyes meet and he offers you a little smile, one that you return. 

“Hey guys,” Jin says a little louder to get everybody’s attention. “Today, Iseul and I gathered you here to share some wonderful news.” 

A bright smile appears on your face. 

Iseul shows her left hand with her engagement ring and points it out. “We’re getting married,” she yells with evident joy. 

Everybody starts congratulating them for their engagement, and they all seem extremely happy with this announcement. It warms your heart to be a part of this big step in their lives. Getting married is quite something, and you’re deeply and truly happy for them. 

During the dinner, you find out that the hot guy’s name is Jungkook. He’s actually Iseul’s cousin. Him and Jimin are quite close. Jimin frequently mentions him and you’ve heard many stories about them. It’s great to finally put a face on a name. Especially since he’s a very good looking man. 

At some point, you realize that everybody is discussing in the living room, except for you, Jimin, and Jungkook. Throughout the evening, they slowly moved, leaving you alone with them. You’re having a very animated conversation about desserts. 

“Tiramisu is the best dessert ever,” you say. “There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

They are trying to convince you that chocolate mousse or lemon cheesecake are much better than anything else. For sure, those are good desserts but not as good as a tiramisu. Nothing will ever beat a good old tiramisu. 

“Pff, you’re saying nonsense, yn,” Jimin replies. 

You roll your eyes which makes Jungkook laugh. Honestly, it’s been fantastic to interact with them. They are super funny, they have a very good dynamic. Through that, you get to see that Jungkook isn’t just pretty on the outside, he definitely seems to have a good heart. That convinces you even more that this man isn’t single at all. A man like him isn’t on the market anymore. A lucky girl must be waiting for him at home.      

“Every word that leaves my mouth is only the truth,” you say with a little smirk on your face. 

Both men laugh even more. They aren’t convinced at all that you only say the truth, they actually don’t agree with you that tiramisu is the best dessert ever. 

“You’re very funny, yn!” Jimin says.  

You roll your eyes once more but you’re simply happy to share this moment with them. They manage to make you forget how sad you’ve been feeling for the past month. It’s been hard but you’ve been trying to cheer yourself up because it’s a feeling that is not easy to deal with. 

“I quickly need to go to the bathroom,” Jimin adds. 

You and Jungkook simply nod before your friend leaves you alone. For a brief moment, there’s a little silence between you but it’s not an awkward one. Then, his eyes meet yours with a little smile on his face. 

“I’m happy to finally meet the girl Iseul tried to set Jimin up with,” he says. 

“Oh, you heard about that,” you reply with a smile appearing on your face. 

“Of course,” he responds. “Iseul talked so much about it, she really wanted you to be together.” 

She told you that a million times but you and Jimin weren’t meant to be together. At least that’s what you believe. There’s a lot of love and respect between you but it will never be more than that. He’s simply a close friend. A friend you’re more than grateful to have in your life.  

“She’s terrible!” you shake your head with a little smile on your face. “I don’t get why she had to tell everybody about it.” 

For sure, it annoys you a bit that she had to tell the world she wanted you to be with her little brother. But she’s one of your bestest friends, and you cherish her friendship more than anything else. It was such a sweet gesture to try to help you out with your love life.  

Then, right there, you see in his eyes the pity appearing. He doesn’t need to say anything else for you to understand what he’s going to say. They all give you that look when they’re about to say that you’re single. 

“She wants to help her dear friend to find someone,” he mumbles. 

Your eyes glance down at your hands. It’s better that he doesn’t see the sadness appearing all over your face. Even though it comes from a good intention, it makes you feel like a pathetic girl that isn’t able to find someone, especially when you’re talking about it with a handsome man. 

“She’s also been wanting to do it with me,” he adds. “She keeps saying that a soldier shouldn’t be single. It doesn’t make any sense to me but I guess she simply adores setting people together.” 

A smile appears on your face before you look up. In a way, you feel like he said that to cheer you up but it still feels nice that he tried to not make you feel alone. However, you’re a bit surprised to hear that he’s a soldier. You would have never imagined him serving in the military. 

“Probably,” you reply. “But in my case, it’s mostly out of pity because I’m 30 and still single. All our friends are in relationships, married or parents.” 

“I’m sure that’s not the reason,” you instantly say. “Iseul is like that, she loves to help.” 

You take a deep breath, he’s absolutely right but it’s becoming heavy to be the only single one out of all your friends. Every single friend of yours present here is in a relationship. Most of them are already married, and a couple of them are parents. It’s not easy to look around and see everybody succeeding on all those aspects in life. The only thing you can brag about is your career. 

And because of all that, sometimes you wonder what you are made for.

“I know she just wants to help because she’s aware of how heavy the pressure from society can be,” you tell him. “And it has been quite heavy since I turned 30. It’s hard to look around and see everybody getting married or buying their houses or announcing a pregnancy while I’m extremely far from achieving that.” 

Jungkook nods. You’re not convinced he can understand you, you’re not sure he’s even single as he’s claiming. Society treats men and women completely differently. For a man, it’s totally okay to not be married or to have a child by the age of 30. It’s even remarkable if they put their careers first. But you’re fully aware that everything isn’t rainbows and sunshines for men as well. 

Nonetheless, it is surprising how comfortable this man has made you feel. This morning, you weren’t even aware of his existence, and now, you’re talking about how you’ve been feeling. What you ignore is that it's a shared feeling.

“I’m sorry to be talking about my problems,” you say. 

“No, no,” he says. “Don’t worry at all about that!” 

You swiftly start discussing other topics. At some point, you find yourself wondering where Jimin is but he has discreetly joined the others in the living room, leaving you alone. He noticed the way you were deeply talking, and he didn’t want to disturb you. For sure, you appreciated the opportunity because you got to learn a bit more about Jungkook. 

After the engagement party of Iseul and Jin, you exchanged numbers with Jungkook and since then, you’ve been spending your days texting him. It has been making you extremely happy. He’s making you feel seen, a sensation that has been absent from your life for a while. Not all the men you dated elicited that feeling in you, but it’s also not something new. However, right now, you don’t want to think about the ex that provoked that feeling.  

What you truly appreciate about Jungkook is the fact that he always warns you when he will take some time to reply. He always tells you when he’s going to do a certain thing that will cause him to go to sleep at 4 am and that he won’t be able to reply. Nonetheless, he always texts you before going to sleep, no matter the time. 

“How are things going with my cousin?” Iseul asks while you’re walking to her car. 

It truly amazes you how this woman ends up discovering everything when it comes to the dating life of someone. 

“How do you know?” you inquire. 

A smirk appears on her face. 

“Well, at my engagement party, you were all over each other, which made me extremely happy, to be honest,” she explains. “Since then, you’ve been smiling like an idiot all the time, and your phone crazily buzzes. It’s not complicated to understand that you two are flirting.” 

The word ‘flirting’ violently hits you. You never considered that you were flirting but now that she’s saying it out loud, it definitely is the truth. 

“I should have thought about trying to set you up together,” she says. 

You roll your eyes while shaking your head. She’s always thinking about setting people together but that’s one of her charms. She’s always so considerate of people around her, she wants people to be happy. 

“Maybe if you had that idea, it would have never worked,” you reply. 

The thought of being set up with Jungkook is weird because you adore the way things started between you. You can’t imagine it any other way. Now, you’re simply grateful he’s part of your life. For the past month, he’s been contributing a lot to your happiness, and you only hope that it’ll be the case for a long time. 

“Probably,” she quickly replies, “but I’m glad you’re talking and discovering each other,” she adds. “You deserve more than anyone else to be happy.” 

She takes you in a heartfelt hug, one that warms your soul. She’d noticed how sad you’d been since you turned 30, and it shattered her heart to see you like that. She’s seen how hard it has been for you to not find your person even though you said the opposite. She could see the pain behind the smile you were always showing. 

She’s fully aware that being in a relationship doesn’t determine the person you are, but she knows how it can sometimes make you feel lonely. When it happens, it hurts, and not just a bit. Iseul admires you. You’re so independent, you don’t rely on anybody else. Most of the time, when she needs to go somewhere, she calls somebody to not be alone because she hates that feeling. 

She drops you out at your place, and you enjoy a bit of your time alone at home. After being out with Iseul, you need a few hours of rest. Honestly, she exhausted you. Thankfully, tomorrow is Sunday and you’re planning on staying at home the full day. But someone ruins your moment alone by ringing at the door. 

As you open the door, you’re graced with a man holding a massive bouquet of flowers. 

“Ms y/l/n?” the man raises as he takes the bouquet down. 

“Yes,” you reply and frown. 

“This is a delivery I have for you,” he hands you the bouquet. “Can you please sign here?”

“Let me just put the bouquet down, please,” the man nods while you place the bouquet on your table. 

You come back real quick and sign the receipt. The man leaves, you close the door, and go to the living room to take a proper look at the bouquet. It’s a very impressive one but it’s definitely a wonderful one. There’s a little card on it which intrigues you. Who could possibly send it? 

‘A wonderful bouquet for the most wonderful woman, Jungkook. Ps: sorry I couldn’t hand it myself to you.’ 

Your heart melts right there. This man is slowly but surely making you fall in love with him. The bouquet is so pretty, it’s actually the prettiest a man has ever given to you. It’s for sure a pity he couldn’t have given it himself, you would have wanted him to be here with you right now. Nevertheless, it’s still a magnificent gesture. One that you’ll cherish for a long moment.

Jungkook is on a special mission this weekend which prevents him from returning home. Usually, he only works during the week but there was an unexpected event this weekend. To be honest, it kind of broke your heart because you were eager to spend some time with him. Since he works and sleeps in the barracks during the week, the only time you get to see him is the weekend. 

Being away from you doesn’t prevent him from speaking with you and calling you every day, but it’s very different from being together. Nonetheless, you feel like it also helps to build a stronger connection. Once you get to see each other, you try to get the most out of it.  

You grab your phone and send him a message. Jungkook told you that his phone will remain at the quarters and that he wouldn’t be able to speak with you. So calling him will be useless, it’s best to leave a message that he’ll see when he’s back. 

That night, you fell asleep with the brightest smile. Jungkook has been making you feel so special since the moment you met him. There’s no doubt that you’ll try to keep him around as long as possible. 

The next Monday, after leaving work, you find Jungkook at the main entrance. After this intense and tough work day, it definitely makes your day a hundred times better. As soon as he sees you, he smiles and walks in your direction to meet you halfway. While getting closer to him, you notice that he’s wearing his military uniform. The first thought that crosses your mind is that he came straight after leaving the barrack. In a way, it warms your heart he did it, however, you can’t help but think of how tired he must be. 

Also, seeing him with the uniform makes you weak. It’s the first time you’re seeing him for real wearing it, and let’s just say that he’s more than fine. Without sounding too horny, you’d even say that you’d open your legs right now if he’d ask.  

“Hey, Jungkook,” you say once you’re right in front of him. “What are you doing here?” 

The man in front of you kisses your cheek, causing shivers all over your body. Your smile grows bigger. This part of your life is filled with so much happiness, something you wouldn’t have imagined a couple of months ago when you turned 30. It’s so surprising how life can completely change in a second. Meeting Jungkook has drastically changed your life but you wouldn’t have wanted it in any other way. 

“Hello, yn,” his eyes don’t leave yours. “Just wanted to see your pretty face since I couldn’t for the past week.” 

Your cheeks instantly turn red but you take the compliment. Your eyes are lost in his, people around you completely disappeared. It’s just you and him. For a brief moment, his eyes look down at your lips yet you don’t notice it otherwise you would have maybe kissed him. His right hand caresses your cheek causing your eyes to close for a split second. 

“There’s a nice bar/coffee place where I’d like to take you,” he breaks this intimate moment with his words. 

You nod. He takes your hand to guide you until the place he’s talking about. It’s actually not too far from your workplace. As you step inside, you can’t help but find it extremely cozy. There are quite a few people, not a lot but still. At the end, you notice there’s a photobooth. A couple is leaving it with a bright smile on their faces before they check out the pictures they took. As you see them, you desire nothing more than to try it with Jungkook. It’ll create great memories. 

“Could we take pictures in the photobooth?” you ask pouting to get what you want. 

The man holding your hand doesn’t resist so he nods. A broad smile spreads across your face, filling you with happiness that he accepted. Now, you’re the one guiding him to the end of the bar. He’s also smiling as it brings a lot of joy to him to be with you right now. It’s his only free day of the week, and all he wanted was to be with you. You’ve brightened his life the second you appeared. 

When you open the curtains to get inside the little cabin, you freeze as you realize that there’s only a small stool. But before you say anything, Jungkook gets inside, sits on the tool and places you on his lap. It definitely surprises you but it also warms your heart. You close the curtain before taking a look at the man that has been making your heart beat for the past month. 

“Since we’re here,” he starts. 

You notice a little bit of nervousness in his eyes, and for some unknown reason, it increases the pace of your heartbeat. 

“The reason I wanted to bring you here,” he’s clearly nervous, especially since you’re really close to him. “Because I wanted to ask you if you’d want to become my girlfriend.” 

Now, for sure, your heart is beating like crazy and at the same time melting at his words. It’s incredibly adorable that he actually raised the question, none of your exes did it previously. On top of it, he looks absolutely charming. This man owns your heart. Honestly, it means the world that he took the time to raise the question. At least, it will be official the second you say ‘yes’. 

Since he’s scared to be rejected, he starts to fill the void. “It’s my only day off and all I wanted was to see you to ask...” Before he can even finish his sentence, you gently press your lips on his while grabbing his face in your hands. It’s a simple smack but one that says a thousand words. One that finally happens after all those weeks of flirting. One that finally resumes how you’ve been feeling. Hopelessly in love. 

“Yes,” you reply when you break the kiss. 

The largest and most radiant smile lights up his face. His smile is quite contagious as you smile back at him. The two of you are simply and utterly filled with happiness. Jungkook presses his lips on yours for a passionate kiss. 

The kiss is sweet and tender, there’s no rush or anything else in it. This moment has been desired by the two of you for a little while already. His strong arms wrap tighter around you almost as if he’s scared you’ll disappear.  

His lips are so soft on yours, the tenderness of the kiss making your heart melt completely. Never a man has kissed you like that. Your heart is pounding extremely hard on your chest while the butterflies on your lower stomach are making you feel completely alive. 

Your little hands cup his face while you kiss him passionately. There’s absolutely no doubt that he’s a good kisser. This first kiss with him will for sure be a memorable one unless he gets even better at kissing with time. Out of breath, you break the kiss. 

“Maybe we should take those pictures before people throw us out of here,” you say. 

Jungkook nods before inserting a coin. In a matter of seconds, the little screen shows that you should press play, and he follows the instruction. You strike a first pose, you’re both looking at the camera with a gleaming smile. For the second pose, Jungkook presses a kiss on your cheek which makes you blush. For the third one, he kisses you tenderly. 

This will be without any doubt a memorable day. 

Once the kiss is over, you leave the little cabin. Two sets of pictures are printed. You grab them and hand one to Jungkook. Your eyes stare at the pictures, they are wonderful. For you, they clearly show the way you feel about each other. The way Jungkook makes you happy. The way you love him. 

For the past 3 months, you’ve been in a relationship with Jungkook. It’s a bit odd to be dating a soldier. Honestly, you always kind of had a bad image of them when it comes to relationships. Yes, they are brave, and it’s truly admirable that they sacrifice themselves for the nation. But you always believed they were womanizers, something that your boyfriend has been proving you wrong. He’s actually far from being a Don Juan. Iseul has also mentioned it a million times. 

As you noticed, even if he’s assertive when it comes to you, he’s actually quite reserved. Hence, he never had a lot of girlfriends. It’s difficult for him to approach women but he confessed that with you, it was easy. He felt that he could be himself without feeling judged. He felt that he didn’t need to hold back to impress. He felt that he could simply be Jungkook. Sometimes, you feel that his shyness and his job are simply contradictory. But for you, it’s what makes him special. 

Today, Jungkook gets to leave the barrack a bit earlier and he invites you to spend the night at his place. Quite frankly, you’re a bit nervous. Lately, your conversation almost always deviates in a way into sex, you’re grateful to have those conversations. However, you realize that one day, you’ll make love. You haven’t done anything so far, even oral sex. None of you has really made it happen even though it’s quite obvious that there’s a massive physical attraction. 

Having sex is making you nervous because it’s been a while since you last did it. Of course, it’s naturally something you crave but you’re scared to be bad at it. You’re scared that this first time together will be a disaster which you don’t want. You don’t want it to be perfect too. All you want it to be is pleasurable.  

When you’re at the door of the building complex, you ring the doorbell. He lets you in so you take the elevator to reach the 5th floor. Jungkook is living in a little building complex, it only has 5 floors so his apartment is on the last floor. Per floors, there aren’t many apartments which makes this little complex quite cozy. When you reach the 5th floor, you walk until the door of his apartment. The door is a tiny bit opened, you still knock at the door. 

“Come in,” Jungkook screams. 

You do as he says, but you make sure to close the door behind you. The apartment is plunged into darkness, except it is lit with candles a bit everywhere. There are petals indicating you the path to follow, this is incredibly romantic. As you reach the living room, you notice that a table was put in the middle with dinner already served. Next to the table, Jungkook is standing tall with a bright smile on his face. In his hand, he’s holding a bouquet. It’s a pretty massive one but a wonderful one.

He looks absolutely stunning. 

Even in the darkness of the room, you can see how handsome he looks, and honestly, as long as he’s smiling, he looks stunning to you. With Jungkook, it’s not only about the looks. Most of the time, you find him stunning on the inside. The way he brings you comfort, the way he takes care of you, the way he treats you makes him absolutely handsome. His extremely hot physique is only an extra.   

A smile instantly appears on your face as you walk in his direction. 

“This is your monthly bouquet,” he says while handing you the bouquet. 

You take it, while plunging your nose in it to smell the sweet fragrance of the flowers. The bouquets that he chooses always have the best perfume. Your apartment always smells like heaven, and the sweet fragrance of flowers is something that you now associate with Jungkook. 

“This time around you went out of your way to offer them,” you teasingly say. 

The smile on your boyfriend’s face grows bigger. He looks particularly glowy today, something special irradiates from him. He breaks the tiny little space between you, you move the bouquet to your right so Jungkook doesn’t smash it as he gets closer to you. His right hand rests on your back, drawing you nearer to him. You look up at him, your faces barely away from each other, and before you can even comprehend he crashes his lips on yours for a gentle kiss. 

“I’ll do everything to make my girlfriend happy,” he whispers against your lips. 

Those words free some little butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t help but smile at his words. Never before have you been this happy. You rest your head against his chest. Every day for the past months, you’ve been feeling extra lucky. Jungkook holds you tight in this heartfelt embrace. 

“I’m so lucky to have you,” you mutter. 

Even if you thought he didn’t listen to you, he did but said nothing. All he did was smile like an idiot and feel even more grateful to have met you. 

His entire life he thought he’d never manage to find someone because it’s been hard to find someone that looks beyond his body. Every girl that he meets simply wants to have sex with him. The combo of being in the military and having a buff body has attracted many girls, but they crave something that he doesn’t want. Plus, he’s also quite shy so he feels awkward every time he’s around a good-looking girl.  

But he fell hard for you. And every day, he falls even harder, something he never thought possible. 

He presses a gentle kiss on your head. “We should start eating before it gets too cold,” he informs you. You nod before breaking apart from him. 

He suggests putting the flowers on the little coffee table that he put in one corner. You look once more around you, it astonishes you how wonderful his place looks when being lit up by candles. Jungkook takes the time to admire his marvelous girlfriend, you. You’re wearing a light pastel orange dress, it’s a nice dress you found in Zara. A bit expensive but a pretty one for a date. 

The dinner goes quite well, but you both drink a lot of wine. To some extent, it was a way for you to relax a bit, you’re quite obviously a bit nervous. Your boyfriend notices it. However, he understands it. The sexual conversations have turned him on, and his girlfriend is extremely sexy. Every time he lays eyes on you, he can’t help but think that you’re the sexiest woman he has ever seen. Even his exes don’t even get close to how sexy you are. 

And that dress you’re wearing, uff… he can’t even think properly. 

Jungkook is aware that you haven’t shared an intimate moment with a man in a while so he perfectly understands your nervousness. His last intercourse happened like 8 months ago, it was with a girl Iseul was trying to set him up with. Needless to say, a couple of days later, it ended. 

As the gentleman that he is, he doesn’t try anything nor does he say anything sexual. His priority is to make you feel safe around him. He can wait, there are other ways to relieve himself while he patiently waits for you to be ready. On your side, you’re genuinely thankful he exhibits great patience with you.  

In the end, you ended up falling asleep in his bed with him. Both of you wanted to spend the night together. For sure, you’re aware that there are some chances that you end up making love but with the alcohol in your system, it kind of makes you less nervous about it. 

In the middle of the night, you’re both woken up by a strange noise. At first, it definitely seems weird but quickly, the noise is accompanied by moans. You blush as you realize that Jungkook’s neighbors are having sex. You hide yourself under the blanket, and it makes Jungkook chuckle. 

“It’s not funny,” you tell him. 

“It is,” he says as he joins you under the blanket. 

There’s barely any light so you can’t properly see him. 

“It’s so embarrassing to hear people making love.” 

“Why so?” he raises. 

“Because it’s supposed to be an intimate moment and knowing that neighbors can hear you destroys the intimacy of the moment,” you answer. 

A little smile appears on his face. He undoubtedly finds you extremely adorable, and it’s incredibly obvious that it’s been a while since your last intercourse. When it comes to sex, sometimes, he feels like he’s older than you due to the obvious fact that he has some more experience. In reality, you’re older than him but most of the time, it doesn’t feel like it.     

“They don’t even realize that,” he says.  

“How could they? I mean, they should know that they are being loud.” 

“They are enjoying the moment and not realizing that they are moaning a bit too loud,” he adds. “Don’t you remember the last time you made love?” he asks. “Normally, you’re so absorbed that you don’t even comprehend if you’re making too much noise or not.”   

For a minute, you think about it. He’s not wrong, when you’re in the moment, you only care about the pleasure, not about the noises nor how dirty sex can be. It’s just you and your partner. 

“They definitely sound like they’re having fun,” he teasingly adds. 

You know that he’s trying to lighten the mood but you’re still slightly embarrassed. You try to relax a bit, this is a natural thing. Couples make love, even strangers have sex for fun. In any case, it’s normal. There’s no need to be ashamed or embarrassed. 

“For sure,” you reply with a little smile. 

Jungkook is glad that you’re replying to his little tease. Your boyfriend gets a little closer to you, his hand caressing your arm. 

“Even under the blanket, we can perfectly hear them,” he retorts. 

You chuckle at his words. You’re grateful that he’s trying to make you feel comfortable. For you, it proves once more how beautiful on the inside he is. 

“But let me tell you that they are even louder during the day,” he tells you. “They make love a lot of time.” 

“Oh, so you’ve been listening to this quite a lot?” you ask. 

“Yep,” he simply says. “On a Friday evening, when I come back from the army, I get to hear them all night long to my greatest delight. And don’t be here on a Sunday…” 

Now, it’s a little laugh that escapes your lips. This sound is what warms your boyfriend’s heart. He loves to hear you laugh, and what he adores more is to see the way your face lights up. Right now, he can’t see your face well so he pictures it.   

“It mustn't be funny,” you say. “It also explains why we barely come here.”

“Eeeh, you finally get it,” he states. 

His hand moves higher to reach your cheek and he keeps doing some circles to shoote you. It certainly works. 

“They are always on fire so it’s better to avoid being here,” he adds. “Especially when I was single.” 

“So now that you’re not single, it’s easier?” you ask while raising an eyebrow. 

A smile appears on his face. Having you has made everything easier. And for sure, it’s less of a torture to hear his neighbors having sex because all he can think about is you.

“For sure, I can think of my wonderful girlfriend to distract myself from this torture.”   

Now, your hand moves to his cheek to caress it. Your boyfriend closes his eyes when your soft fingers touch him. 

“I still don’t get how such a wonderful man like you had trouble finding someone,” you express. 

His hand places a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Nice men have trouble finding someone,” he informs you. “Girls usually prefer bad boys over a guy that treats them right. I was shy too so it definitely didn't help and being in the army only attracted women who wanted sex. I was never interesting enough.” 

You can hear his voice breaking at the end. It hurts to hear those words, especially coming from a man with a golden heart. In just over 3 months, he has made you feel so special like no other man has before. 

But he only states the truth. Most girls chase bad boys, almost as if they hope to change them into nice boys but it’s never the case. They always end up breaking their hearts. Nice men are not seen enough, and it breaks your heart, especially since now you’re dating one. 

“You are more than interesting, Jk,” you say. 

You press a soft kiss on his lips. 

“You’re the first girl that truly sees me for who I am.” 

This breaks your heart even more. Jungkook deserves the world, and he deserves more than anybody else to be happy. 

“And you’re the first man that truly sees me for who I am,” you instantly tell him. 

His neighbors are still making love but now you don’t hear them, you are simply absorbed by each other. There’s only you. The world around you completely disappeared. 

Now, it’s Jungkook who presses a gentle kiss on your lips. His lips are so soft on yours, the tenderness of the kiss making your heart melt completely. However, this gentle kiss slowly turns into a passionate and fervent one. A kiss that speaks a thousand words. A kiss that says that you love each other. A kiss that makes you both feel seen. It’s a kiss that you both craved for years.  

You’re deeply kissing each other, and by the looks of it, this kiss is for sure going to take a heated turn. A turn that both of you want. You’ve been obviously nervous about this but right now, there’s nothing more that you crave. Your only wish right now is to feel even more loved by this wonderful soldier. 

His impatient hands move down to your waist to bring you even closer to him. They run up and down your waist, making you more than happy to have his large tattooed hands on your body. Your hands, on the other side, go to his hair to softly run through it. 

“I’ve fallen so hard in love with you, yn,” he says as he breaks the kiss. 

As much as you can, you look at him with an idiot smile on your face. There are millions of fireworks inside you caused by what he just said. There’s no more doubt that you’re madly in love with this man. He owns your heart. 

“Maybe not as much as I did,” you add.       

Jungkook presses a peck on your lips before he kisses the corner of your lips down to the underside of your jaw, causing little moans to escape your mouth each time his lips touch your skin. Jungkook is making you feel alive and also driving you into complete euphoria. Even though you’re starting to get lost, you’re slowly realising what is about to happen. You’re going to make love with your boyfriend.  

In the end, there was no reason to feel nervous to share an intimate moment with your boyfriend. He loves you. And he will obviously do everything to help you feel good.  

He drops his head to your neck, kissing the base of your throat. You moan as he starts leaving a trail of kisses, the feeling of his mouth on your throat is divine. Everything he does exceeds all your expectations. Regardless of your nervousness, you of course dreamt of what it would be to have sex with him. So far, he’s undoubtedly surpassing all of your expectations.  

Your hands run through his hair, tugging at the roots. A moan escapes his pretty lips, his voice vibrating against your skin. This slowly starts to feel like heaven. His lips move up again to meet yours for another fervent kiss. 

“It’s getting too hot under this blanket,” he affirms. 

“Yep,” you manage to say. 

Jungkook removes the blanket from your bodies, and you can finally see him somewhat better. His short hair looks messy, causing a bright smile to appear on your face. Instantly, the urge to run your fingers through his hair comes across your mind. There’s no need to say that you did it, and that he loved feeling your fingers in his hair. 

“You’re breathtakingly beautiful,” he whispers while his eyes scan your face. 

“Thanks, Jk,” you smile at him. “And you’re the prettiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.” 

The way you both make each other feel is so indescribable but you’re absolutely sure to have found the right person. You make each other feel special. 

“I want to make love to you, yn,” he lets you know. “I’m craving you so much.” 

You kiss him. You also crave him in an unimaginable way. His large hands caress your waist while you both look intensely at each other before you uncover your bodies frim the blanket. In a matter of seconds, you’re fully naked in front of each other. Your eyes glance down at his cock. In all honesty, it’s quite big.

“It’s massive,” you look up at him. “How have you been hiding it in your pants?” he giggles at your words.

“That’s something that I’ve been wondering every day for the past 3 months,” he says, clearly making you understand that he gets pretty hard around you every day. 

Without any warning, you wrap your hand around the base of his dick. This sudden move surprises him which causes him to whimper. Your eyes watch down at his impressive crotch. The head is red, precum running down his length and over that prominent vein that lines it. You rub your thumb over the tip before going down on his shaft, spreading his arousal all over him. A deep moan leaves his lips as your hands finally touch him, his head falling completely on the pillow.       

“Oh,” he growls. 

Slowly, you start pumping him, taking your time, your hand gliding up and down his length. A trail of groans leaves his lips while you pump him nice and slow, giving him a dreamy handjob. Every time your hand reaches the base, Jungkook shivers, loving deeply how you’re pleasing him.

Your boyfriend is a bit surprised by the fact that you’re doing this handjob quite amazingly. Sometimes, with your reactions when it comes to sex, he forgets that you had exes so for sure you have some experience. Maybe not a lot but it’s still something. And now, he’s realizing that you perfectly know how to do things.   

On your side, you want to give him more. You know your hand is just not enough, he needs more to come undone. So you dip down to kiss the head of his cock, his eyes instantly opening as this is unexpected. You lick his tip, his precum coating your wet muscle before you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock, sinking down fully on his length. 

“Damn, yn,” he groans, loving the warmth of your mouth around him. He swears that he’s about to fall apart, covering your mouth with his cum. 

Your eyes look up to meet with his. The moment they lock ⏤ both your eyes completely filled with lust ⏤ he looks away, too scared to burst right there. As much as he’d love to fill your pretty mouth with his seed, he doesn’t want to come right now. There’s still so much to be done. 

“Love,” he says while his hand moves down to your hair, grabbing it before pulling your head a little. “I don’t want to come right now.” 

Your lips leave his length, letting it slap against his lower abdomen before you crawl up his body to kiss him again languidly. Jungkook can taste his salty precum on your lips and he adores it. Damn, he loves everything about this moment with you. 

“Do you have a condom?” you whisper on his lips. 

“Of course, angel,” he replies. 

Well, he always has some condoms in his bedroom as well as in his wallet. He’s always prepared in case anything like this happens. Even if he adores you, there’s no way that he’s doing it without protection. Your health is more important than anything else and also, it’s way too soon to take the risk of having a baby. 

While he stands up to grab a condom in a drawer of the nightstand, you lay on your back, your eyes looking up at the ceiling. Strangely, you feel extremely happy that you’re taking this step in your relationship. It’s creating a deeper connection between you. A very intimate bond. When Jungkook gets back on the bed with his condom in his hand, he bites his bottom lip. 

“You’re so beautiful, love,” he whispers, scanning every part of your body. You’re even prettier than in his dream. 

The man doesn’t waste any time ripping the plastic and putting the condom on his length. Honestly, you ignore what to do so you simply watch him. On his knees, he gets closer to your body and he slowly and delicately spreads your legs. For a brief moment, he gazes at your core, causing him to bite his lower lip. While holding his cock, he brushes it against your pussy to get you wetter. He wants you to be as wet as possible to be ready for him. 

“Can I?” he asks. 

It melts your heart that this man asks for your consent before going any further. Rare are the men who did it before. Once again, it proves to you that you found the right person.   

When you nod, he slowly buries his thick cock inside your soaked core, stretching your velvety walls. His large hands find their way to your waist, caressing your soft skin while his doe eyes filled with lust look into yours. Both of you groan as he slowly pushes his long and thick cock inside you.  

“So good,” you mumble as your eyes roll back. 

You have to admit that it hurts a bit since it’s been a while since you last had sexual intercourse but the fact that he’s slowly filling you up to the brim helps. It gives time to your body to get used to this massive intrusion. But it feels so damn good to have him inside you. This is even better than in your wildest dreams. Jungkook leans closer, pushing his cock a bit deeper inside you and snatching a loud moan out of you. 

“It feels so good, love,” his deep voice groans in your ear. “Even better than in my dreams.” 

The fact that he has been dreaming about this too gets you wetter. In a way, it makes sense to you since you’ve had some heated exchanges. You kiss his shoulder before giving it a gentle bite. 

“Oh, looks like the prude yn hides a wild side of her,” he teasingly says while pulling back a bit. 

“Good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught,” you sing, making reference to a band, 5 Seconds of Summer, that you love. 

“Couldn’t agree more with that sentence,” your boyfriend adds as he keeps pushing back to only leave the tip of his cock inside you. 

Brutally, he pushes his cock fully inside you, and a loud moan leaves your lips. For a little while, he doesn't move, hovering over you and watching you with delight. His eyes look down on your body. He’s surprised by how insanely perfect you are. Your body is for sure the prettiest one he has ever seen. 

Unlike what everyone thinks, he’s not fond of skinny bodies. He loves curves and imperfect bodies because they show life. They show that their owners eat to live, and your curves drive him crazy. He could come just by looking at your ass.  

His lips meet yours for a sloppy kiss before going down to your neck, leaving another trail of kisses on your skin. Needless to say, it makes you moan a bit more. Once he has tortured you enough, his eyes get lost in your body again, groaning as he watches himself buried deep inside you. 

“Uff, you’re driving me crazy, my love.”

You close your eyes, completely enjoying having him fully inside you. You’re completely euphoric at the feeling of him stretching your walls. Once he sees that you’re ready to take more, he pulls back brutally before slamming himself back into you. The bed under you squeaks, the headboard hitting the wall just behind you. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock as well as your moans quickly fill the room. 

“Jungkook,” you gasp while he thrusts into you.

This all causes sparks of pleasure to shoot throughout your body, your arousal dripping from your core and creaming his cock. Jungkook smirks as he notices the sticky mess you’re causing. You grip the sheets as hard as possible to steady yourself from Jungkook’s hard thrusts. 

Neither of you can believe that this is happening tonight. In some way, you’re grateful that his neighbors started having some nasty time. Without them, probably nothing would have happened. You can’t even believe you were so nervous and embarrassed minutes ago. And now, you’re making love with the man you love.  

“You’re so wet, love,” he hisses before biting his lower lip. His hands press harder into your skin when he feels your walls tighten around him. “And making such a mess on my cock.” 

Every time he pushes his hips back, he watches with delight the way his cock is completely covered with your arousal. Nothing drives him crazier than seeing this, it is as if your bodies were made for each other.  

Jungkook bends down, pressing a sloppy kiss on your lips while his thrusts slow down. A desperate whine gushes from you, a sound that he proudly swallows. His hands go up to your body, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them to make you moan with desire before his mouth goes down on your body to play with your nipples. 

“It feels so good,” you whine. 

His thrusts are slow and harsh again, and his teeth on your nipples are just too much for you. Gradually, Jungkook begins to thrust hard into you again, and you moan at the feeling of his brutal thrust. Your walls suck his cock as he slams his hips into you with more force. Everything that your boyfriend does pushes you closer and closer to the edge. 

His eyes look up at you, contorting with pleasure as it slowly builds within you. Little moans keep flooding out of your mouth, and Jungkook is adoring to hear you moan. His hands can feel the way your body quivers with each thrust. The way he’s torturing your body is only making you lose yourself further. He just knows how to pleasure you perfectly like he became a master of your body in just some minutes.   

“Your cunt is clenching so hard, love,” he says when he feels the warmth of your walls wrapping tighter around him

As you glance up at him, you can’t help but find him extremely attractive. His eyes stare down at you with passion and lust as his tongue licks his lower lips. He simply can’t believe that this is really happening. He can’t believe that he’s making love to the prettiest woman in the world. He leans forward once more to press another sloppy kiss on your lips. He loves to feel your lips on his, even if the kiss is a disaster. 

“Oh my god,” you barely manage to say while you have a first orgasm. Your body shakes crazily, and Jungkook is happier than ever to see you being overwhelmed by pleasure.   

The vision of you coming undone makes his cock twitch inside of you. However, he wants you to experience more orgasms. There’s no way that he’s going to end this moment without having you come more than once. One of his hands slowly goes down on your body, passing your stomach, and landing on your throbbing clit. His fingers start to rub your sensitive spot. 

To be honest, this action only makes your orgasm more intense and longer. Your arousal completely covers his cock and your walls squeeze him over and over again. This is heaven for him. He could stop right now and he’d be more than happy because he gave you a lot of pleasure. 

He speeds up the pace of his hips slamming into you. The coil in his lower stomach tightens inside of him, and it completely clouds his thoughts. His increase in pace causes you to have a second orgasm in a matter of seconds.  

Breathy whines escape his pretty lips as he looks down at the mess you’re making on his cock. A desperate moan leaves his mouth when his orgasm hits him hard. His eyes roll back with pleasure as his body tenses up and releases his load inside the condom. He collapses next to you, both of your bodies covered in sweat after this intense sex session. Your heavy breathing is now the only thing that can be heard in your bedroom. 

Jungkook throws the condom on the floor before laying again next to you on his bed. His eyes look at you with marvel. You’re so damn wonderful. 

“Uff, love! This was something,” he says as he presses a gentle kiss on your cheek. “Did you enjoy it?”

Even though you had 2 orgasms one after the other, he still wants to make sure that you loved this steamy session. 

“Of course!” you directly answer. 

Your lips find his for a little kiss. 

“I’m glad to hear that!” a bright smile appears on his face. 

As you look at your delighted boyfriend, you feel a wave of happiness wash over you. Yep, this is what you’ve been desiring for years. Being this in love and sharing such a wonderful intimate moment with the person you love is what you’ve been looking for. 

Right there and then, you comprehend what you were made for. You were made to fall in love with Jungkook.

[uzurakis]

HERE TO SEND YOU BLUELOCK HEAD CANNONS! >:D

Can you do headcannons of the guys and how they would be like if they were teaching us how to play soccer? Hope this is interesting for you ^^, if you're interested to make them thanks in advance!

TEACHING YOU SOCCER?!

featuring: michael kaiser. itoshi rin. oliver aiku. isagi yoichi. bachira meguru.

n. yees darling, i was invested to write this (it's a challenging one because i don't really play soccer myself). hope i nailed it though, thank you to u too <3

MICHAEL KAISER. "nice shot!" kaiser exclaimed, clapping you on the back. "but don't get too cocky, mein liebling."

"learned from the best, i guess," you teased, nodding toward kaiser. "after all, my boyfriend's the world's number one striker, hmm?"

kaiser's eyes widened in mock surprise, a beam spreading across his face. "well, when you put it that way," he said, puffing out his chest with pride and sliding back his golden locks. "i suppose i am pretty amazing."

"ah, but if i'm the world's number one striker," he continued, trying to tease you with words, "then that must mean you have to kneel before me, right?"

you lifted an eyebrow, unable to stop snickering at his exaggerated claim. "huh, is that so?" playing along with his joke. "i guess i'll have to remember to bow down to the soccer king himself."

the guy grinned, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. "that's more like it," now his voice filled with mock superiority, typical kaiser. "but don't worry, i'll be a generous king."

ITOSHI RIN. "fine, i'll try my best, but just so you know, i'm not really good at teaching," rin confessed, feeling apologetic because he’s not used to teaching others. and now, his girlfriend wants to learn how to play soccer.

rin took a deep breath, trying to muster up some confidence as he began to explain the basics of dribbling. "uh, alright, first, dribbling. just try to keep the ball close to your feet for now," he instructed, a bit hesitant.

"oi, dont look at me, look at the ball," he reminded you. "sorry," you chuckled, truly didn't realize you weren't paying attention. come on, just look at him. "if i’m being honest, you look really hot like this," you teased, but, it’s true though!

rin's cheeks flushed slightly at your comment, but he quickly regained his composure. "focus," he replied. though there was a hint of annoyance, you couldn't help but sneak a glance at rin's face as he continued to give you instructions, his cheeks flushed slightly from your earlier comment.

suddenly, rin's voice broke through your reverie, snapping you back to reality. "i said focus!"

OLIVER AIKU. "keep your eye on the ball and follow through with your kick," aiku instructed while you attempted to pass the ball to him.

even when you struggled or made mistakes, aiku remained patient and supportive, offering gentle guidance to help you improve. "try to angle your foot a bit more next time," he suggested, as you missed the mark with your pass. "you're doing great, sweetie. just keep practicing."

by the end of the session, you were exhausted but thankful for aiku's patience and support. he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, a proud smile on his lips.

"you're making progress, sweetie," he soothed, genuine and affectionate. "with a little more practice, you'll beat me out here."

BACHIRA MEGURU. "okaaay, let's start with some dribbling drills," he said, bachira was overjoyed since this meant he had another friend to play soccer with. "try to keep the ball under control as you move around me, kaay?"

you nodded, determined to give it your best shot. as you began to dribble the ball, you stumbled a bit, but bachira was quick to offer a push. "nice job, baby! you're getting the hang of it," he cheered, clapping his hands in support.

with each effort, you gained confidence and dribbled past bachira with greater ease. bachira congratulated you on your small wins every time you successfully escaped him. "woah, that was awesome! baby, i’m so happy!" he exclaimed, giving you a high-five.

"great effort, babes! keep it up, and you'll get it," he encouraged, his words filling you with determination. “lets keep playing together!”

ISAGI YOICHI. "hey, it's okay," isagi said gently, stepping closer to you. "here, let me show you."

he moved behind you and gently guided your legs into the correct position, his touch firm yet gentle. "see? keep your body low and your touches light," he explained, moving your legs in rhythm with the ball. "you've got this, angel.”

with isagi's guidance, you began to feel more confident, dribbling the ball with increasing control. whenever you made a mistake, your boyfriend always offered gentle correction and encouragement.

"nice try, but try to keep the ball closer to your feet," he would say, his tone encouraging. "like this," demonstrating the correct form before guiding your legs to mimic his movements.

@uzurakis

[seumyo]

I WANT TO BE FOREVER YOUNG

PROMPT. How they mourn when you were gone too soon. You did worry about getting old, didn’t you?

FEATURING. Midoriya I., Bakugou K., Todoroki S., Shinsou H.

NOTE. I’m testing the waters with angst content + formatting style for multiple drabbles—so forgive me if it’s not that good!

MIDORIYA IZUKU — Sees you in someone else.

Midoriya Izuku found passion in teaching. It’s a life-changing job that molds each and every student into the person they want to become with the help of people like him.

His students, vibrant and full of life, were so much like his old classmates—and among them was Takashiro Ayane, her laughter light and melodic as she teased one of her friends about their clumsy landing during training.

It reminded him of someone. Someone close.

You.

And the thought always came to him, even when he didn’t mean to. Even at the most random times.

Ayane’s resemblance to you was uncanny. It wasn’t just her kindness or the gentle way she spoke; it was in the way she held herself, her subtle but unwavering resolve. Midoriya could see flashes of you in her—the friend who had once been a constant source of warmth in his turbulent journey at U.A. High.

As Ayane reached up to adjust her headband, smiling brightly, Midoriya felt a pang in his chest. The sight was like a memory brought to life, a reminder of your soft-spoken encouragement and the way you always stood firm despite your fears.

God, it felt like seeing you all over again.

“Sensei!” another student called out, pulling him back to the present. “Did you see that move? I think it might actually work in combat! Or support, if I feel like it.”

Midoriya blinked, shaking off the haze of memories. “Y-Yeah, it looked great!” he replied, mustering enthusiasm. “Your timing’s improving a lot—keep it up!”

He tried to push the thought aside, focusing on the here and now, but it was no use. The resemblance was too striking, and his heart felt heavy with the weight of unspoken grief. You were gone, after all. Gone too soon.

As the students broke into laughter again, something about the carefree sound and the dynamic of his students triggered a reflex. Without thinking, he spoke, his voice soft yet audible enough to be heard.

“[First Name], I—”

Your name left his lips before he realized it, and the world seemed to freeze. The students fell silent, their laughter replaced by curious stares. Ayane tilted her head; confusion could be seen in her face.

Midoriya’s heart sank as he realized his mistake. He quickly forced a smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I mean Takashiro,” he corrected, craning a hand to the back of his neck.

“Sorry about that. Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

The students exchanged glances, a few offering polite chuckles before moving on. The moment passed, yet for Midoriya, the weight of it lingered. He stayed behind as the students began their walk back to the main building, his gaze fixed on the ground.

Everything came flooding in his mind. Like a relentless tide that swept him away. Your jokes, your laugh, and the countless little moments that had defined your friendship.

He hadn’t spoken your name aloud in years, not since your passing. Now, saying it felt like reopening an old wound, one he had carefully avoided for so long. But he could only do so much avoidance ‘til he has to come to terms with it.

“Sensei?”

The gentle voice startled him, and he looked up to see Ayane standing a few steps away. Her expression was concerned; her head tilted slightly as she studied him.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly. “You seemed... distracted earlier.”

Midoriya hesitated. The words caught in his throat as he wrestled with how to respond. How could he explain to his student that she reminded him of his dead friend?

What kind of teacher would he be if he were to say that? The awful, grieving kind, he bets.

“I’m fine, Takashiro,” he said finally, forcing a smile. “Just a little tired, that’s all. You know how these long training sessions can be.”

She didn’t look entirely convinced but nodded anyway. “If you ever need to talk, Sensei... we’re here for you too. Fighting!”

“Midoriya, grow a spine! Fighting!”

Her words hit too close to home.

“Thank you,” he could only murmur.

Ayane lingered for a moment before turning to join her classmates. He remained there, rooted to the spot as the sun began to dip lower in the sky. The golden light bathed the empty training grounds, and the silence felt heavier than usual.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve tried to move on, but I see you everywhere. In everything. In everyone.”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, a mix of regret and longing washing over him. “You were right about so many things,” he continued, his voice barely audible. “I just wish you were here to see it—to see how far we’ve all come.”

But you weren’t here anymore, and that’s the problem.

Bakugou Katsuki — Mourns you longer than he’d known you.

Cemeteries never brought discomfort to Bakugou. Not until you died, that is.

The place stretches out in solemn silence; the faint rustle of leaves in the hedges are the only sounds he heard as he trudged along the familiar gravel path. His boots made dull, deliberate crunches against the fallen leaves, the heaviness of his steps matching the weight in his chest.

In his hands, he carried the usual offerings: a bouquet of red spider lilies tied neatly with a ribbon, a box of your favorite sweet treats—melon pan today—and the incense sticks he always lit with care. It had been years since your passing, but for Bakugou, the loss felt as raw as if it had been yesterday.

He approached your gravestone, its surface polished and pristine, just as he always left it. Your name was etched into the stone with delicate precision, the sight of it both grounding and crushing. As if to remind him that you weren’t coming back because you’re just here, waiting for someone to visit you.

Bakugou knelt, his movements stiff and reluctant, as though even now he couldn’t fully accept your absence. Why can’t he accept it?

“Yo, dummy,” he muttered under his breath, pulling the lilies from their wrapping and placing them carefully at the vase near the gravestone. He adjusted them twice, three times, until they looked just right. His eyes lingered on the name etched into the cold stone, a bitterness creeping into his tone.

“Brought your damn flowers again. Hope you appreciate it.”

The sarcasm in his words was thinly veiled; beneath it lay the unmistakable ache of someone who had loved and lost far too deeply.

He pulled out the incense sticks next, lighting them with a practiced flick beneath his palm. You would’ve loved to see him do it in person; maybe light up a candle or two when the power goes out during your high school dorm days. The smell of sandalwood quickly mingled with the damp earth, and Bakugou leaned back on his heels, staring at the curling smoke.

“Another week down,” he began, his voice quieter now. “Another round of saving people, making headlines, being the ‘Great Dynamight.’ ” He spat the title out like it was poison.

“It’s what you always said I’d do, isn’t it? Go big; make my mark. But, damn it, [Last Name], none of it means anything without you here to see it.”

He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as the familiar wave of guilt and frustration washed over him. His head dipped as he let out a long, ragged breath.

“I thought time was supposed to make this easier,” Bakugou admitted, his voice rough. “It’s been... what? Seven years now? And every damn day, it still feels like you’re just gonna show up out of nowhere, like you’re gonna annoy the hell outta me with one of your stupid jokes.”

The thought made his lips twitch into the barest hint of a smile, though it was laced with sadness. He could almost hear your voice—that gentle yet persistent tone you’d use whenever you tried to drag him along to something.

“C’mon, Bakugou, I’ll need someone to bail me out of jail! You’ll regret it if you don’t come along.”

And you were right. He regretted it now. Every single refusal, every grumbled excuse, every moment he could’ve spent with you and didn’t.

“You were annoying as hell,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “But you were... you were good. Too good.” His fists loosened, his hands falling limply to his sides.

“And you didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to go like that.” Bakugou remembers the time he almost stained his conduct by almost killing the villain that got to you.

It’s unfair, isn’t it? The villain got to live behind bars, while you lost yours.

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves in the trees above. Bakugou tilted his head back, glaring up at the overcast sky as though it were to blame for everything.

“They don’t tell you how much it fucking hurts,” he said bitterly. “To lose someone like you. They don’t tell you that the longer it’s been, the harder it gets, ‘cause every year just reminds me of how much more I’ve missed. How much quicker I could’ve been.”

He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small, weathered notebook. It was yours, something your family had found amongst your belongings after you passed. They wanted him to have it since his name was always frequently mentioned. The edges were frayed, the pages creased from countless readings, but it was his most treasured possession.

Bakugou would rather die than even let a single drop of water meet one of its pages.

Flipping it open, he scanned your handwriting, some neat and some looking as though you couldn’t be bothered with basic penmanship. He stopped on a page that always gutted him.

Life’s short. Spend it with the people who matter. Don’t let moments slip away! :P

His thumb brushed over the words, his jaw tightening.

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed. “You don’t have to keep reminding me, you know. I get it. Too late, but I get it.”

He placed the notebook on the gravestone, letting it rest there for a moment before tucking it back into his pocket. His hand lingered on the cold stone, his fingers tracing the engraved letters of your name.

“You were supposed to stick around,” he said softly. “Supposed to keep bugging me, keep dragging me out of my own damn head. Now I’m stuck here, talking to a rock, and it’s not the same. It’ll never be the same.”

The clouds began to part, a faint beam of sunlight breaking through and casting a soft glow over the gravestone. Bakugou stared at it, his eyes unreadable. He’s thinking.

“I’ll keep coming back,” he finally said, his voice steadier now.

“Every week, every month, every damn year. You’re not gonna be forgotten. Not by me.”

He stood slowly, his body heavy with exhaustion and grief. Adjusting the incense sticks and flowers one last time, he stepped back, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“See you next time, dummy,” he murmured, his voice low. “Don’t forget about me or whatever, wherever you are.”

As Bakugou walked away, the wind carried the faint scent of incense and the quiet promise of a man who would mourn you longer than he’d ever known you.

TODOROKI SHOUTO — Learns things that reminded him of you.

Todoroki knows that he’s been busy. It’s in the way the white camellias he brought you months ago are now wilted, showing their dried-up state. His fingers brush against the wilted petals, lingering as if to apologize for not visiting sooner.

“I still remember the last thing you said to me,” he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with an ache he couldn’t quite put into words. “It wasn’t even anything serious—just you scolding me for not eating enough during lunch. You were always so good at taking care of me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

He glanced down, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint, bittersweet smile. The image of you—scolding, your hands on your hips as you tried to hide your worry—was etched so vividly into his memory that he could almost hear your voice.

Todoroki’s gaze traveled to the offerings he had brought with him: a fresh bouquet of camellia, a neatly folded scarf he had knitted in one of his new hobbies that he took up classes for, and a small pack of your favorite matcha-flavored sweets. “I know you’d laugh at me for picking up knitting,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But... it’s calming. I think you’d appreciate that. You always said I needed to find something that made me happy outside of being a hero.”

The scarf was simple, a pale green color that reminded him of the shade you loved wearing. He had spent hours perfecting it, thinking of how you might have joked about him for being so precise yet ultimately praised his effort.

“I hope you’d like it,” he whispered, setting it down carefully beside the gravestone. “I thought about giving it to someone else, but it felt wrong. It’s yours.”

Todoroki draws in a breath, closing his eyes, letting the stillness of the place envelop him. Yet in the quiet, his mind raced with so many thoughts all at once.

“I also learned how to cook,” he tells you—he tells your grave. “It’s not as good as yours, but Bakugou’s been helping.”

He thought of your childhood, how you had been his only light during the dark days of his father’s strict training. How you had been this bubbly girl that the teacher often praised, how you had stood by him when he was still new to making friends at the nursery, offering him a hand when he thought he didn’t deserve one.

“You were the best person I knew. And I pushed you away. You didn’t deserve that, [Last Name]. You were my friend when I didn’t know how to be one back.”

The pain of those words hung heavy in the air, and Todoroki’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. He had spent years replaying your interactions, wishing he had done things differently. If he had done things differently, you would’ve been here, probably teasing him for taking up chopstick-making classes.

“I was so angry back then,” he confessed, his gaze fixed on the gravestone. “At my father, at myself, at the world. And I took it out on you, the one person who never stopped trying to help me. I told myself I didn’t need anyone, but... I needed you.”

Another tear slipped down his cheek, and he hastily wiped it away, frustrated by the way his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He was the Number Two Hero now, a symbol of strength and perseverance. Yet here, in front of you, he felt like the lost, broken little boy that longed for his first friend.

“I need you now, please.”

The sound of a bird chirping nearby pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced up at the sky. The sun was setting, casting a hue that reminded him of your warmth.

You did like sunsets, didn’t you?

“You’d probably scold me for crying,” he said with a faint chuckle, though his voice still wavered. “You always hated seeing me upset. But I think it’s okay this time. You’re worth crying over.”

He knelt down again, his fingers brushing over the engraved letters of your name.

“Shoucchan! You can’t cry! We can be partners—the best partners!”

Yes, partners. The best partners for as long as you’ll have him.

“I’m trying to live the way you wanted me to,” he continued. “To find happiness outside of being a hero. To be someone you’d be proud of. But it’s hard, [Last Name]. It’s hard without you.”

He stayed there for what felt like hours, speaking to you as though you were sitting beside him, as though your gentle presence could somehow reach across the veil of death. He told you about his hero work, about the classes he was taking, about the little moments of joy he tried to find in a life that often felt too heavy.

Finally, as the sun dipped below the horizon, he rose to his feet. His knees ached from kneeling for so long, but he barely noticed.

“I’ll come back,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the tears that still shimmered in his eyes. “And I won’t let you wait so long again. Next time, I’ll bring something better than just a flower. Maybe one of those awful paintings you always said I should make.”

As he turned to leave, he hesitated, glancing back at the gravestone one last time. As if you’d be there with open arms, waiting for him.

“Thank you,” he whispered, the words carrying a weight that only you could understand.

He walked away slowly, the sound of his footsteps fading into the stillness. The cemetery grew quiet once more, the only reminder of his visit the small offerings left behind—silent testaments to a bond that even death could not sever.

SHINSOU HITOSHI — Avoidance by all means necessary, until he finally caves in.

If you were to ask Shinsou what his prized possession was, he’ll tell you that it’s a shoe box. A shoe box that seemed to hold the world—your world, with remnants of a friendship that had lasted his entire life—a lifetime with you.

Shinsou sat on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands hovering over the box as though touching it might shatter him. He had been avoiding this moment for weeks. The funeral had been a blur, the condolences—a cacophony of words that didn’t mean anything because he knew that they couldn’t possibly understand how it feels. Everyone seemed to know the right things to say, except him.

All he had wanted was for you to be there, to laugh at how awkward he was with the whole ordeal.

Now, it was just silence.

With a deep breath, he finally reached into the box, pulling out the first item: a knitted scarf, a rich shade of violet. It was slightly uneven, the handiwork amateur at best, but it was one of the first gifts you’d ever made for him. He could still remember your smile when you handed it over during your middle school years.

“I thought it’d look good on you,” you had said, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Don’t laugh! It’s my first try. Nuh uh, I’m taking this back—Hitoshi!”

He hadn’t laughed. Ok, maybe just a quiet chuckle, but he had worn it every winter since.

He leaned forward again, staring into the box. Inside were the tokens of a life intertwined with his—handmade crafts, small souvenirs, and letters tied with ribbons in colors you knew he liked. Each item was a story, a piece of you you had given him, never expecting you would be taken away so soon.

He gently picked up a small ceramic cat figurine, its paint slightly chipped. It was from one of your family trips abroad.

“I saw this and thought of you!”

Younger Shinsou blinked, confused.

“Me?”

You nodded. “You’re like this cat. All serious, but secretly soft and comforting.”

Shinsou chuckled softly at the memory, though the sound was tinged with sadness. He had teased you for it back then, calling it tacky, but it had ended up on his desk at home. Now, it felt like a sacred relic.

Setting the figurine down, he reached for another item. Shinsou pulled out a small, framed photo of the two of you at a summer festival. He was scowling at the camera while you grinned beside him, holding up two sticks of cotton candy. It was one of the rare times you had dragged him out, insisting he needed to “experience life beyond his walls” when he just wanted to sleep in.

He’d go to every summer festival in the country—even if it meant losing sleep—as long as he gets to do it with you.

The frame trembled slightly in his grip as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

He pulls out a well-worn journal. It was yours. He hesitated, knowing that opening it would feel both comforting and unbearably painful. After a moment, he gave in, flipping through the pages.

Inside were your thoughts—notes about school, sketches of the two of them, and half-finished poems you had written during quiet afternoons.

The prince has been so stressed lately.

I wish I could take it all away.

He deserves the world, but he won’t let himself believe it.

Maybe one day he’ll see himself the way I do.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. You had always been like that—putting everyone else first, even when you had your own struggles. He closed the journal and held it to his chest, his breath shaky.

“I should’ve told you,” he whispered. “I should’ve told you how much you meant to me.”

The tears that had been threatening to fall finally spilled over, sliding down his cheeks as he sat there in the coming twilight. He thought back to the nights they had spent stargazing, sharing their dreams and fears. You had been his constant, his answer, his light, even when he didn’t know he needed one.

His phone buzzed again, a reminder that the world kept moving even when his had stopped. He glanced at the screen—it was a message from his secretary.

Meeting tomorrow at 9, Sir. You told me to remind you.

Shinsou scoffed bitterly, tossing the phone aside. Work didn’t matter right now. Nothing did.

He looked back into the box and pulled out a small, intricately folded paper crane. He had almost forgotten about it. It was from your high school years, during a particularly tough exam season.

“This is for luck,” you had said, carefully handing it to him with an awed expression. “And if it doesn’t work, at least it’s cute, right?”

He remembered stuffing it into his pocket, too embarrassed to admit how much it meant to him at the time. Now, it felt like a lifeline.

As he unfolded the crane carefully, a note inside revealed itself. The ink was slightly faded, but your handwriting was unmistakable.

You’re going to be amazing. Always.

A choked sob escaped him, and he clenched the note tightly in his fist. You had believed in him, even when he hadn’t believed in himself. He wished he could’ve seen this sooner.

When it got dark, Shinsou didn’t bother turning on the lights. The silence felt appropriate—a space for his grief to exist without judgment.

“I miss you,” he confessed, his voice trembling. “I don’t even know how to keep going without you.”

He glanced at the small collection of gifts and letters spread out on the table. Each one was a reminder of the life you two had shared—a life you had enriched with your thoughtfulness and love.

Though the pain was overwhelming, Shinsou knew he couldn’t let your memory fade. You had given him so much, and the least he could do was honor you by living the way you would have wanted—fully and without regret.

“I’ll keep going,” he said softly, almost as if speaking to you. “You’d probably get mad if I slept in.”

The room remained quiet, save for the faint sound of the wind outside. But for Shinsou, it felt as though you were still there, your presence lingering in every corner of his heart.

SEUMYO © 2025, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[domnamewoman]

MK1 Characters React To: Being Pinned To The Wall By Their Crush To Hide On A Mission

Characters: Liu Kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Kitana, Mileena, Tanya, Sub-Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile, Baraka, Shang Tsung, Rain

Warnings: GN!Reader

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

Liu Kang’s first priority is making sure that you both are safe and undetectable by the enemy. It isn’t until after he confirms your safety that he realizes just how close you are. So close that he can feel your breath brushing over him on every exhale. Despite enjoying the proximity he doesn’t want to risk you feeling uncomfortable so he backs off.

“I think we are in the clear now. Let’s find our way back to the exit.”

Raiden is overthinking everything from the moment you press up against him. Should he hold his breath because breathing in your face is rude, right? Should he close his eyes because him staring at you just has to be making you feel awkward, isn’t it? So caught up in his head he doesn’t even realize that you moved back until you ask if he is okay.

“What… Oh, y-yes I’m okay. Let’s get out of here.”

Kung Lao uses this opportunity to appreciate your features up close. The way your eyelashes brush against your cheeks. The little mole on your chin that he never noticed before. Your smell… It’s simply intoxicating. He would be so focused on memorizing every detail that he didn’t notice the enemy left until you cleared your throat to get his attention.

“I’m sorry, I was just… never mind, let’s get going.”

Johnny Cage takes full advantage of the situation and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. Can you blame him? The cart you’re hiding behind is too small so you have to be as close as possible not to be spotted, obviously. That’s also the reason he has to lean his head against your shoulder. He’s just too tall! It’s definitely not because he wants to nuzzle into you, his lips brushed against your neck completely by accident. Really.

“I think I still hear someone walking around. Let’s stay here for a bit longer.”

Kenshi Takahashi is cursing his heightened senses right now. He is hyper-focused on you and only you. Your addicting scent, the warmth seeping into him from every point your bodies are connected. It takes all of his willpower not to just melt into you. Once you pull away he takes a calming breath and tries to get his brain to focus back on why you both are even here.

“Right, the mission… Let’s uh, let’s head that way.”

Kitana is only worried about the mission getting ruined if you both get caught. That is why she is surprised when she notices her hand over your mouth keeping you from making a sound and the tight grip she has on your shirt, holding you against the wall. This is not how she pictured finally getting this close to you going. She blinks as she releases you and takes a step back.

“My apologies… We just, we can’t get caught.”

Mileena smiles as you press up against her, happy with the turn of events. She knows that you like her just as much as she likes you. She uses this time to tease you by pushing her chest into you and blowing her warm breath against your neck. Her thigh finds its way between your legs. It amuses her to see you try to remain quiet and unbothered by her actions.

“We should try this another time… under different circumstances.”

Tanya tries to remain calm as your bodies are pressed against each other. She can’t believe that you both are in this situation right now… but she doesn’t exactly hate it. You smell so good and your body is so warm. It’s better than what she’d imagined being pressed against you would feel like. The only downfall is that you both were hiding in enemy territory. Oh right… the mission.

“I think we’re all clear. Let’s find a way out of here.”

Bi-Han can’t help grabbing onto your hips as you push him against the wall. He would be lying if he said he didn’t love the feeling of your bodies pressing against each other. He only wished it was happening under different circumstances than hiding from the enemy. Maybe after you both get what you came here for, he will finally make a move and make his intentions clear.

“Come, let’s finish up and head back home.”

Kuai Liang would try and create as much distance between you as he could, which would be futile. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Even though all he wants to do is pull you into his arms and hold you tightly, he would contain himself. He respects you and your personal space and all he can do is hope that someday you would want him in it.

“They’re gone. Sorry about that… We can go now.”

Tomas doesn’t know what to do with himself. He keeps his arms down to his sides, hands gripping his pants legs. That is the only thing he can do to keep himself from reaching out and embracing you. Something that he has longed to do since shortly after meeting you. Why can’t he think of anything besides how stunning you look, even now?

“Do you, uh… Do you think they left? We should probably get going.”

Syzoth’s brain is malfunctioning. He can’t control the way his body reacts to having you in his personal space. He tries to stop the low rumble of a purr-like growl forming in his chest because one, how embarrassing, and two, he doesn’t want to give away your location. You two were hiding from the enemy for goodness sake! This definitely wasn’t the time.

“Um, can we… Maybe we can sneak around the corner.”

Baraka was surprised that you didn’t mind being this close to him. Ever since being affected with Tarkat, nobody wanted to be even a few feet away from him, much less in physical contact. Being this close to you just reminded him of how much he missed physical affection. He hopes that since you aren’t afraid of touching him, his affection for you won’t be rejected.

“Come on, I will fight our way out of here if I must. You don’t have to worry.”

Shang Tsung believes that this is right where you both belong, in each other’s arms. He desires nothing more, not even power or influence (although they’re pretty close), than he desires to be able to hold you close to him daily. He will stop at nothing to convince you that you belong with him. He’ll start by showing you how capable he is by protecting you.

“These imbeciles are no match for my magic. We’ll be out of here shortly.”

Zeffeero bit his lip trying to ignore your thigh pressed against his crotch. You seemed oblivious to your position and just how hard you were making it for him to hold on to his last strands of self-control. How did you not know how you affected him? He thought he was being pretty forward with his flirting but you never seemed to get the hint. Maybe he should talk to that Johnny guy? Later, you two needed to get out of here first.

“Let’s sneak attack him once he turns around. Get ready… Now!”

[entitled-fangirl]

Sweet mama.

Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Joel gets baby fever watching the reader play with Tommy and Maria's baby.

Author's note: don't think too hard about the timeline please and thank you. Also, I got baby fever this weekend, so I figured I'd make everyone else have it, too. Also also- I use they/them for the baby since the gender hasn't been revealed in the show

Masterlist

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Oh, God. She was all that occupied his mind at the moment. 

Life in Jackson was not exactly what Joel had in mind, but even he'd admit, it had its perks. 

For example, this scene in front of him.

Y/N on the floor of their shared home with Tommy and Maria's baby.

At first, Joel had very much disliked the idea of babysitting for the night when Tommy asked. But how could he have said no when he saw the way Y/N's face lit up at the very thought?

So, he obviously said yes.

But now, here they were actually doing it. 

He was sat on the dusty couch with an old can of beer he had found, sipping occasionally when he fell out of his daydreams. 

How can he not enjoy the way she interacted with the kid?

He had seen just how fantastic she could be with Ellie.

Y/N had been with Joel a little less than Tess had. They had had a rocky start, especially right at the beginning.

She was a friend of Bill and Frank's. And Frank had decided that they should meet.

But he knew telling both parties about it would only cause conflict. 

So, he didn't tell them at all.

Imagine their surprise when unsuspected visitors appeared in the middle of Y/N's and Frank's tea time. 

She pulled her gun on Joel.

Things were tense for a while after that.

But, after some time, they found that they liked each other very much.

Sometimes, Joel worried that they liked one another a little too much.

"You know," Joel finally said to her. "I haven't even been around a kid like this since… well, when it was Sarah, I guess."

She looked up from her spot on the ground as the baby played with the wooden blocks in front of them, "Really?"

He nods, "Don't even know if I remember what to do. Thank God I got you."

She laughs, "You were the one that was a parent. I was just an older sister. That's how I got my experience."

He shrugs, "You have a gift for it."

She smiles, grabbing the 10-month-old. The baby giggles as she lifts them into the air. She walks to the couch, "Here." She holds out the baby to him.

He holds his hands up in surrender, "Nah. You're doing great, Sweetheart. I won't stop ya."

She scoffs, holding the baby close to her chest now with a teasing scoff, "Whatever, Miller."

"I'm serious," He argues, "I like watching you like this. Happy and… God, this looks so fucking natural for you."

"Joel!" She yelled. "Language."

He laughs, "See? You're…" He sighs in thought.

She notices, "What?"

He smiles and shakes his head, "In another world, sweet girl…"

She tilted her head, "Joel, I'm confused."

He stands up, inches from her face now. He gently takes the baby out of her arms and places them in the makeshift playpen. He returns to her quickly.

His arms grab her waist gently. His voice lowers, "If life was different, I'd give you a baby right now."

Her cheeks turned pink, "What?"

He laughs as he buries his face into her neck, "Think about it. You'd be a beautiful mother. God, I'd give you a baby."

Her gaze started to turn hopeful. She had never thought about having a baby. 

Her thoughts turned dirty as he started to kiss up her neck slowly.

"A sweet mama." Kiss. "Walking around here with my baby in you." Kiss. "Making every man in here green with envy." Kiss. "You'd be so pretty like that." Kiss. "God, you'd just glow more than you do now."

"Joel…?"

He pulled away at her weak voice.

She looks away in thought. "Do you think… if… if this whole 'cure' thing works with Ellie… You think there may actually be a world we could have a baby in? Where… we could be parents?"

He takes in her features carefully, not realizing just how much his words had affected her. "Well… I… I don't know." 

She nods and pulls away from him completely, her wishful thinking over, "Right." She walks back to the baby in the playpen, "Not worth even hoping for."

He pulls her back into his firm chest, and circles her waist with his arms, "Hey. Don't say that. We'll just… leave it on the back burner. Yeah?"

She nods. "Back burner. Okay."

The two watch the baby in front of them play happily, blissfully unaware of the world they all lived in.

…

Y/N sat in the backseat with an unconscious Ellie.

She was still shaking at the sight of seeing Joel in a murderous rage in the hospital.

She knew he was protective of her and Ellie but she had never seen him do anything like that before.

She cradled the girl's head carefully in her lap, gently running her fingers through Ellie's greasy hair. 

She looked up to catch Joel's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Guess we're not getting that cure, are we?"

He shook his head, "Guess not."

"Say goodbye to the chance at parenthood." She sighed.

They sat in silence for a while.

She watched Ellie carefully to check for signs of her waking up.

And she heard Joel's light chuckle.

She looked up, "What?"

He looked at her though the mirror again, "Nothing, sweet mama."

"I'm not… this is…" She glanced down at Ellie, and back up at Joel. 

She smiled slowly as she reveled in Joel's observance.

"I guess…" she noted, "I guess we've already been doing it."

Joel nodded, "Guess it really was made for you."

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[another-lost-mc]

a/n: the younger brothers and dateables will be coming later, I didn't want this post to get too long.

size kink feat. the older brothers

nsfw (suggestive and explicit) | 1.5k words | gn!reader

content warnings: implied short reader and size/strength kink (is that a thing? it is now.) slight predator/prey kink and demon form mentioned (lucifer); ab riding/face sitting/reader on top (mammon); being a perv, blowjobs (levi).

LUCIFER

realization

Lucifer really notices your height—or lack thereof—the first time you stand up against him. You cross your arms over your chest and glare at him in defiance, voice raised in defense of his troublesome siblings and arguing against the punishment he decided for them. He always wondered how long it would take for you to finally break through that passive shell of yours. It's lovely to finally feel some pride radiating from you too, and it makes you even more enticing. Unfortunately, he'll have to savor this moment later—he still has an image to uphold, and he's not going to be dressed down publicly by someone so small. He meets your anger with his own authoritative stubbornness, a clash of wills that will inevitably end in your surrender like all your other disagreements with him in the past. He bends at the waist so that his face is directly in front of yours, your noses nearly brushing as he smirks.

"Care to repeat that for me one more time? I couldn't hear you all the way down here."

nsfw

Some nights when Lucifer takes you to bed, he scoops you into his arms and carries you over the threshold to his room while you melt against his chest. Other nights you skirt out of his gasp and dart away, teasing him with a little thrill of the hunt. Your playful taunts echo in the halls and lust surges through the blood that pumps in his veins. All he has to do is follow your scent and you're his. It doesn't matter how much of a head start he gives you because the chase ends the same way every time: being lifted into his arms and tossed on his oversized bed. You bounce on the mattress and barely have time to catch your breath before he's suddenly on top of you and caging you underneath him. His hands fist the sheets on either side of your head and his facial features blur when he leans down, eager to capture your lips as his hard-earned prize. Once he's peeled away your clothes—or ripped them off, depending on how long you teased him with your little game—he can finally smother your soft, naked body with his own. He positions you whatever way he likes: easily raising your hips to meet his steady thrusts, or pushing back on your thighs when he folds you in half and buries himself even deeper in the soft, tight heat of your body. His raven-black wings unfurl at his back and block everything else from sight. The feathers twitch with pleasure and brush against the sides of your body. You're completely enveloped by him—all you can see in the dark canopy of his embrace is his smoldering ruby eyes and his lips curling around the shape of your name when he comes.

MAMMON

realization

Mammon is used to running away from things: his problems, his debt collectors, Lucifer. He's fast and slippery and hard to catch. When you become his unofficial partner in crime, he expects you might have some trouble keeping up—you're only human, after all—but damn, can't you run just a bit faster? When you both stop to catch your breath, or rather when he stops so you can catch your breath, you complain about his long legs and demonic stamina, blah blah blah. He knew you were short, but are you that much shorter than him? You lean against the wall for support while you wait for the burning in your lungs and legs to ease up, completely oblivious to the way his eyes rake up and down your body. He glances at his hands and back to your legs. Y'know, I bet I could wrap my whole hand around those thighs, and—

nsfw

Mammon feels like he's giving control to someone else when he takes you to bed. You hold so much wicked power over him, and the fact that you're so much smaller makes the sensation even more intoxicating. You squirm nervously in his lap while his eyes rake over your bare skin and he licks his lips. It's so fuckin' hot for both of you because he gives you this power freely. You can tease him with kisses and grind slowly against his hips, or you can bounce on his cock while you chase your own pleasure and deny him his. Both of you know that within a blink of an eye, he could easily flip you over and fold you in half before he fucks you senseless, or he could put you on your knees and push your shoulders to the mattress for an even deeper angle when he buries himself to the hilt. He could do that if he wanted to, but for now, he can be patient. He strokes between your legs with his thick fingers and stretches you open while you straddle his abs and try not to smear yourself all over his tummy. Maybe if your scent drives him crazy, he'll curl his hands around your thighs and drag you up his body 'til his tongue can flick against your entrance. There's nothing sweeter than the way you whimper his name and tangle your fingers in his hair while he sucks greedily at the slick arousal between your legs. Each tug on his hair makes his cock ache and his resolve starts to splinter. Maybe you're not the one in control, after all.

LEVIATHAN

realization

Levi likes the feeling of your body leaning against his when you sit next to each other on the sofa in his room. It's not convenient for gaming—your elbows bump each other and it messes up the controls something fierce—but for watching movies or anime? He doesn't call it cuddling but that's basically what this is. He drapes one of his favourite blankets over both your laps and sometimes there's a bowl of popcorn between you, or you pass a box of candy back and forth to each other. Your head rests against his shoulder and sometimes when he turns towards you, his chin grazes over the top of your head. If you squirm a bit to readjust yourself, he looks over and just happens to peek down the gap of your shirt. He glances away while his face burns bright red because he didn't mean to. Now that he knows how easy it is, it gets harder and harder not to look at the bare glimpses of skin you inadvertently put on display for him. He feels bad and just a little dirty, but he can't help it. He couldn't resist your charms before, why should he try to deny the temptation now? So what if he spends the rest of the movie imagining you in other less-than-innocent ways—he's seen this movie plenty of times. You won't even know he wasn't paying attention, and he can get away with letting his fantasies run wild while you cuddle beside him unaware.

nsfw

Sometimes it's hard to get Levi's attention if he's busy playing games or if he's engrossed in a movie he really enjoys. If one more boss fight turns into two more boss fights, or even three, it's not your fault if you have to resort to dirty tactics. He usually spreads his legs wide when he's at his desk or on his sofa—it's comfortable, and he's used to being selfish with his space and not considering whether his guests need leg room too. It's so convenient that nothing turns him on more than the sight of you sinking to your knees and shuffling between his legs. You look so small kneeling at his feet, and your hands can barely wrap around his cock when you pull it free from the tight confines of his pants and guide the tip into your mouth. You lick over the slit and lap up the pearly beads of precum before sliding your lips down inch by inch. It's the perfect combination of slick heat and tight pressure that makes him dizzy, and you can almost feel the deep, rumbling groan that reverberates in his chest. Each time you bob your head, he pants a little faster and his whines sound a little more desperate—your spit dribbles down his shaft and it eases the glide. It sounds so lewd and hot when you hollow your cheeks and suck on the tip before swallowing him back down. Sometimes his hips jerk up when you flick your tongue just right; you can't fit him all into your mouth and you choke a little when his cock hits the back of your throat. He feels bad because he likes it when you sputter around him, and it's not much longer before he's whimpering your name and spilling his release into your mouth. If he's really lucky, you won't be able to swallow it all and he can watch his cum smear across your mouth and drip slowly down your chin.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 109 }

you don't know my name.

mike schmidt x fem.reader warnings: unedited; completely fluffy and safe; story takes place after the events of the movie.

{ doing more than i've ever done for anyone's attention | take notice of what's in front of you, 'cause did i mention? | you're about to miss a good thing. }

there was a cute guy that caught your eye during your morning shift at sparky's diner.

he seems tired, you mused to yourself while wiping down one of the tables. every so often, your eyes would stray to him, taking in his strands of curly, brown hair and eyes the color of milk coffee. you noticed the way those dark circles remain prominent beneath his eyelids, and how slouched his posture was.

it seemed as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet somehow, something about him drew you to him. as your perky and all too eager co-worker, ness, was about to speak to the tired young man, you stop him in his tracks. "wait, ness, if it's okay with you...could we...switch duties for a moment?"

"switch? whatever for?" ness asks you, ready to hear your explanation when a sudden, knowing smile graces his features. "ah, i get it. so you've got a crush on mike schmidt?"

"oh, his name's mike- i-i mean! no, don't be silly, ness! i-i do not have a crush on him! it's just-" you trail off while looking at the table where he- where mike was. "he looks tired, like maybe he could use a little pick-me-up, and someone who's willing to listen to him."

ness playfully rolls his eyes at you, but ultimately takes a hold of your rag and proceeds to wipe down the tables, silently jutting his head over towards the table where mike sat. mouthing a quiet thank you to him, you take out your pad and pen and walk over to his table.

"good morning and welcome to sparky's diner! what can i get for you?" your voice was dripping with sincerity and a bit of enthusiasm, waiting for mike to speak. his gaze was faraway, yet when you called out to him was when he finally looked at you. you watch as his gaze meets with your own, feeling your heart jump into the confines of your throat as it began to race. butterflies were felt erupting all across your abdomen, and you realized that he was kind of cute- really cute up close. you saw his mouth move, mouthing something, yet you were so distracted that you had to shake your head and ask him to repeat his order, an admission that made the heat settle against your cheeks as you could feel the blood rushing beneath your skin. "it's okay, i just said a regular coffee with cream and sugar is fine." "r-right, coffee with cream and sugar, got it! can i get you anything else?" feeling playful, you lean down a bit closer to him, whispering almost in hushed tones, "secret between you and me, but our cinnamon rolls are to die for." your words succeed in making mike smile, earning the tiniest chuckle from him as he shakes his head. "i'm sure they are, but maybe next time. i'm good with just some coffee." "comin' right up!" your heart was fluttering within your chest now, and you could not stop the smile that threatened to paint your features. something about mike stood out to you as being lonely, and you wanted to see him smile again. so, you tell the cooks that you could take care of this simple order, making mike's coffee while putting vanilla creamer and some sugar in it. with his cup of coffee set aside, you got a plate and placed a warm cinnamon roll with a light sheen of frosting on it. with his treat in hand, you head over to the table and deliver mike's order. "here you go." mike sees the cinnamon roll and was about to protest. "oh, sorry, but i didn't order-"

"it's on the house." you wink at him, ignoring the slight pounding of your heart before walking away from mike, giving him some space to enjoy his morning treat. as you made your way back to the counter, ness was giving you an almost smug expression. "so...when's the wedding again?"

his teasing question makes you roll your eyes at him, but deep down, it made your heart skip beats in a way that you've never felt before- but you certainly didn't hate this feeling. { ... } mike schmidt became somewhat of a regular after that first morning. despite how tired he seemed, he always made sure to come to the diner around 7am. from the short conversations you had with him, you knew that he had a bit of a rough childhood and was taking odd end jobs to help with raising his little sister, abby, with his current job being a night shift security guard at the medical center nearby. each time he came, you would serve his usual coffee. your boss always told you to use regular milk for anyone who orders coffee and to save the vanilla creamer for regulars who tipped well, but you didn't care. mike was special to you, so you always added the vanilla creamer to his coffee along with a sweet treat.

it didn't matter that your special treatment pertaining to mike schmidt docked a little bit of your paycheck every two weeks, to you, it was worth seeing his smile and the bit of exhaustion slip away from his features. you wanted to know more about him, and whether he was happy. you wanted desperately for him to open up to you. yet, something seemed to shift. today, when he came in, he changed his order from a single cup of coffee to two. his sudden change in order made your heart sank, wondering if his order for two cups of coffee was for that pretty blonde girl who you saw him with a few weeks ago. she didn't enter the diner with him, rather, they shared a brief conversation before embracing each other. you recall that day where you cheerfully asked him if she was his girlfriend and why she didn't come in with him, hiding the strange hurt you felt behind a too wide smile. yet the moment he vehemently shook his head while clarifying that she was just a friend and needed to get back to work, you all but forgot about it. maybe it's different now after all. you chew on your bottom lip while making mike's two cups of coffee, adding the vanilla creamer in both as you wondered if it was too late for you to ask him out. ever since the first day that you met him, he has been all that you've thought about, and your crush on him was slowly morphing into something that was much deeper.

with the two coffees in hand, you shakily deliver them to mike's table, mustering a shaky enjoy before attempting to walk away. yet, it was mike that stopped you from leaving when he says your name out loud. "wait, don't go." you face him, confusion written all across your face as mike looks away from you. he says nothing, just keeping his furrowed brow on the two cups of coffee settled on the table. "what's wrong, mike?" your voice comes out patient and soft, waiting for him to tell you what was on his mind. you watch as his fingertips trace the rim of the coffee cup, hearing him clear his throat before continuing. "sorry, i'm really not good at any of this, at all, but abby told me i should make a move." abby? his sister?

you were given no chance to dwell on his words when he gestures at the second cup of coffee. "this one's for you, and i'm wondering if you'd like to...sit down and share a cup with me?" with a purse of your lips, your eyes scan the diner, seeing only a few customers enjoying their breakfast with ness organizing all of the condiments on the table. letting out a sigh, you give mike a nod and sit across the table from him.

a strange sense of relief was felt coursing through your veins now that you were across from mike. taking the cup of coffee (where now you knew was meant for you this whole time) you take a sip while trying to taste the subtle sweetness of the coffee mixed in with vanilla creamer-

yet all you could focus on was the smile mike held on his face. "i can't tell you how much...better i've been feeling lately." mike begins to tell you, looking down at his coffee with a fondness in his gaze. "it's just, these days...i really find myself looking forward to seeing you."

his words were so achingly sweet that you felt your heart melt, swearing that you were close to turning into putty. not realizing the change in your demeanor, mike leans forward to take a hold of your hand within his. "so, i was wondering..."

"could i...could i pick you up later tonight after your shift and invite you over for dinner? i've got the day off, and i feel like i need to return the favor for all the free treats you've been giving me these past couple of months." you would be a fool not to accept, so of course-

you said yes to his offer.

{...}

you were able to go home an hour early thanks to ness' urging. when you told your co-worker about mike inviting you to dinner, he became the best wingman a girl could ever ask for and told you that he could take over the closing shift. he teases you, of course, begging you to invite him to the wedding as you brushed off his words when you finally clocked out and met with mike. he was standing close to his sedan, dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans with a pair of sneakers. upon seeing your figure walking out of the diner, mike smiles at you, opening the passenger side of his door.

the moment you were in the car, you saw a girl with curly locks of dark brown hair coloring in her sketchbook. seeing the similarities between her and mike, you were quick to assume that this little girl was abby, mike's sister.

"hello, you must be abby. it's nice to meet you, i'm-"

abby then says your name, interrupting your introduction while still coloring in her sketchbook. "i know who you are. my brother talks about you all the time."

a mischievous smile was seen on abby's face, yet you felt flustered upon hearing her words. when mike enters the car, his hands were on the steering wheel as he looks back between you and abby. he seems to notice the change in your expression when he asks, "what happened? did i miss something?" "n-no! you didn't miss anything at all!" you reassure him with a smile on your face, yet was all too aware of abby's giggles from the back of the car. you hear something ripping from behind you as abby leans toward you, beckoning you to take the drawing from her hand. "mike's really shy, but i know he really likes you." "abby don't just-" the siblings begin to bicker back and forth, yet you couldn't hear them the moment you laid your eyes on the drawing in your hand. in it, the picture depicted you and mike holding hands in front of your diner with a big heart settled in between both of your figures. you smile to yourself and knew that this drawing was going to be your most beloved treasure. {...} the ride home was quick and uneventful, with mike telling abby to put her seatbelt back on as he drove home.

the moment you set foot within mike and abby's home, you were hit with the comforting scent of homemade meatloaf with mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese. the three of you shared heaping portions of food, making small talk about abby's school life and how she was doing so far. she faces mike while asking him, "can we take her to meet my friends later?" her question seems to make mike stiffen in response, with him taking a big swig of his class of water. "no, not now. maybe some other time, okay?" "but, i'm sure they'd really love her." "i'm sure they would too, but, not now, okay abby?"

"okay." there was a strange, melancholic expression that falls across her face, and you wondered just who her friends were. the rest of dinner became a little tense afterwards. when everyone had finished their meal, mike told abby to play in her room. "i'll clean up, so you go ahead and play as a reward for doing so well at school today." "okay!" abby gives you a knowing smile and a wink, before quickly darting off to her room. you had to shake off the feeling that abby was trying to set you up with mike as well, clearing your throat as you collected all of the dirty plates and utensils. "and i'll help you clean, mike. after all, that was a delicious meatloaf you cooked up. i ate every bit of it." mike's expression became sheepish once more as he took the plates and began washing them, "i'm glad you think so. to be honest with you, i'm still learning how to cook without relying on boxed meals, so it means a lot to me."

there was a comfortable silence settled between the two of you. as mike finished washing the dishes, you began drying them with a towel before setting them on the rack. when every plate and utensil had been washed and dried, you were left gazing up at mike. no words were spoken, yet you could feel yourself inching ever so closer to him. his warmth ensnared you, captivating you in the best of ways as mike placed the palm of his hand on your cheek. he whispers your name, sliding his eyes closed as he meets with your lips in a sweet kiss. with a soft moan, you kiss him back, allowing his chapped lips to perfectly slot against yours. you feel his hands at the back of your head, tangling his fingertips within your hair as he drew you closer to him.

as your chest met with his, you continued to bask in his sweet kiss. wanting, needing, and desperate for more. his taste was addicting, and you found yourself falling for him so deeply.

"mike, what's taking you so long-" abby's voice cuts through you, making you pull away from mike as you stared at the girl with wide eyes. abby looks between you and her brother and starts to giggle, "sorry for interrupting, take as long as you need!" she runs away once more, making you fall against mike with a groan. he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you while tracing his nose against the strands of your hair. "maybe it was a good thing that abby interrupted us, or else i never would have asked." you let out your own laughter in response. "ask what?" he pulls away from you, framing your face with his two hands while allowing the pads of his thumb to caress at your face. "will you be my girlfriend?"

you could feel a smile forming when you lean upwards to press your lips against his in another kiss, all while whispering to him, "but of course; for i would want nothing more than to be yours, mike schmidt."

a.n. - the fnaf movie was actually so cute and so much fun to watch, i loved it a lot too! this was written because mike schmidt deserves to be happy 🥹 he's been through so much! i apologize for any errors or mistakes, and will fix any errors/mistakes after posting.

this whole story was inspired by alicia key's 'you don't know my name,' so do give it a listen ♡

major edit notes 10/29/23 @11:30pm, changed matthew / matt's name to "ness," his canon character name in the movie.

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.