#then we entered a discussion because I asked how I was supposed to know that if I never tried it

[lynaferns]

Thinking about how I thought I was lesbian when I was in high school, but I didn't wanted to tell anyone there b-coz I was surrounded by assholes that only talked about sex and asked others constantly who would they fuck from the school.

So I told everyone who made that question that I was asexual to leave me alone (somehow it worked......... mostly).

Aaaaaand here I am 7 years later.

An aroace.

[punkshort]

Swept Away | Chapter 4: Tropical Heat

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: The first day on Glenn's yacht is much more dramatic than you originally expect.

Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, sugar daddy/baby vibes, food and alcohol consumption, intoxication, reader gets drunk and snippy, mentions of past infidelity, flirting, sexual tension, jealousy, one tiny daddy reference, nausea/vomiting, joel gets mean but he makes up for it (he sucks at feelings)

WC: 8.5K

Series Masterlist

"I'm so excited for tomorrow. Glenn's yacht is supposed to be massive. Like, full crew, multiple levels. The type you'd usually charter but he actually owns it." Zoe sighed dreamily next to you at the hotel salon. You were listening but your eyes were pinned on your nails, watching as the technician managed to make your hands look like they were out of a catalogue in less than an hour.

"Yeah, that - it sounds really cool," you replied. "Should be fun. Joel said there's some tiny islands we might check out or something."

Zoe nodded excitedly. "Zach said there's one called Monu Island. We're supposed to have dinner there the first night."

"Dinner? How?" you asked. She looked at you like you had two heads.

"The crew brings the stuff to shore for us and cooks?" she said as if she were explaining how to ride a bike. Shit. You probably should have known something like that if you were pretending to be in the upper, upper class.

"Oh, yeah, I knew that," you said with a nervous laugh, "I meant how are they going to get us off that yacht? The more I keep hearing about it, the harder it's going to be to pull me away from it."

Zoe giggled and you inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Maybe you can convince Joel buy one for yourselves. He can certainly afford it," she told you with a wink.

"Yeah, and Zach can't?"

She shrugged, smile still stretched across her face but you could see something shifting in her eyes. "Can I tell you something?"

You nodded and leaned a little closer.

"I don't think Zach's doing very well. Business-wise."

Your eyes widened, encouraging her to continue.

"I don't know for sure, but I have overheard a few conversations and I get the feeling if he doesn't win this bid, his hotel chain is done for."

"Oh, no," you breathed, brows crinkling with concern. "Zoe, I'm so sorry."

She gave you a confused look but quickly recovered. "Oh, thanks. It's no big deal, you know. I'll be just fine."

What did that mean? Zoe would be just fine if Zach went bankrupt? How?

You wanted to press her further but you could tell the door closed. She was looking down at her freshly manicured nails with a huge smile then held them up to your face and wiggled them around.

"What do you think?"

She had picked a white nail polish with a faint hint of sparkle. The color did look very nice against her tanned skin and you told her so right when your technician released your hands, announcing you were all set. Pulling your fingers from the blue light, you admired them up close.

"Alright, I'll admit it. I questioned your color choice before but damn, that looks so pretty on you," Zoe said enviously as she examined your hot pink nails with a glitter top coat.

"Thanks," you gushed, hardly able to tear your eyes away after you left the salon and headed for the elevators. You could count on one hand how many times you ever got your nails done in the past and it was always for a special occasion: prom, a wedding... maybe once when someone got you a gift certificate for Christmas. It felt like such a treat and it gave you a nice little confidence boost.

You waved to Zoe when she got off on her floor, vowing to see each other in the morning bright and early on the dock, then rode the elevator the rest of the way to your floor.

It was difficult to contain your excitement when you entered the room, but you remained quiet because you heard Joel's voice carrying from the living room. He had someone on speaker who was discussing budgets and employee turnover so you snuck past him and headed towards your room to pack.

How much does one person need for two days? Not a lot, probably. But you weren't very clear on the dress code. Was this going to be casual? You already noticed if Glenn organizes the parties, the vibe is much more relaxed but Mary tends to make it a little more formal when she handles things.

After packing a swimsuit, two coverups, one set of pajamas (which you agonized over when you remembered you would be sharing a bed with Joel), and three different options for daytime wear, you went back out into the living room to see if Joel would know what you should pack for the evenings.

"Joel?" you asked softly when you spotted him sitting quietly on the couch with his eyes closed. He tilted his head to the side and slowly opened his eyes. "Are you okay?" you asked. He nodded and stood with a groan.

"Just tired," he said right when his laptop chirped with two new emails. He began to walk towards the table but you were closer. You bravely closed his laptop with two fingers and he froze.

"C'mon, what're you doin'?" he asked, taking another step, but you shook your head and leaned forward, resting your weight on the arm that was holding his computer closed.

"You need to take a break," you told him firmly. He scowled and crossed his arms.

"I'll be takin' a break when we're on the damn yacht."

"Taking a break on the weekend is a given. You work around the clock, Joel, you need to slow down."

"I don't got time for this," he told you with a shake of his head. "I'm busy, I got a company to run."

"Well that's just too bad because I have dresses to try on and I need help picking ones to pack," you told him just as sternly. His eyes flickered up to yours and you could practically see the gears in his head turning. "I think that's far more important than some emails, don't you think?"

His mouth twitched and you could see his face soften and you knew you had him.

"Fine. Ten minutes," he relented. You grinned and skipped off to your room, and only when your back was turned did he allow himself to smile.

Joel sat patiently on your bed while you tried on the handful of dresses you grabbed and put in the bathroom, waltzing back into your room every few minutes with a new one to show him.

"Darlin', I already told you. You look good in all of these."

"Yeah, but which ones are your favorites?" you pressed, doing a little twirl so he could see the back of the pink dress you were currently wearing. "And what will we be doing? Like, how formal are these evenings going to be?"

He shook his head, his eyes glued to the curve of your back when you spun around again. "Not that formal. One night we'll be on the beach, the other night just on the deck."

You nodded and tapped your chin with your finger. Any of the dresses you had would do now that he told you it wasn't that formal, but you were pushing twenty minutes of no laptop or cell phone useage and you really wanted him to take a longer break from work, so you had an idea.

"Okay, just one more. I'll be right back," you told him, scurrying off to the bathroom to slip into a deep purple dress that just so happened to be the shortest one in the bunch by a mile. You weren't sure what Joel's assistant was thinking buying you something so short and tight. When you looked in the mirror, the fabric clung to your curves, leaving very little to the imagination with only two thin spaghetti straps to hold it up.

Obviously it was too inappropriate to wear on the yacht, but that didn't stop you from taking a deep, nervous breath and strolling back into your bedroom with what you hoped was an air of innocence.

He was leaning back on his elbows when you walked in, eyes drifting around your room and taking note of the items you kept on your nightstand, but when he saw what you were wearing he straightened right up.

"What do you think?" you asked as you twirled, but that time you made sure to take it slow.

"It's, uh..." his throat when dry when he saw how perfectly the dress hugged your ass and he had to clear his throat. "Nice," he finally managed to say. You fought back a smirk when you heard the strain in his voice.

"Yeah?" you asked, looking down at the dress. "I don't know, the material is a little rough."

Joel swallowed when you ran your hands slowly down the fabric, your palms traversing over your soft curves, making his fingers twitch.

As if you read his mind, you looked back up at him with a little pout and asked, "you wanna feel?"

Without hesitation, he spread his knees and beckoned you over with two fingers. You grinned and stepped forward, stopping when you stood between his legs, his mouth mere inches away from your stomach.

You could feel his hot breath through the dress and you had to suppress a tingle down your spine, but when he lifted his hands to cup the backs of your bare thighs, you couldn't hide your reaction that time. You made a little noise in the back of your throat when his fingers squeezed your legs and he looked up at you, eyes so dark and filled with lust that it took your breath away.

"This okay?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, your hands coming up to his shoulders so you could balance yourself. His fingers inched up your legs slowly, tentatively exploring without giving into his deepest desires. But fuck... if he wanted to, you would have let him.

He slid his hands up the sides of your thighs, his fingers catching a bit on the hem of your dress before reaching your hips. He caressed the material there with both hands, each of you still pretending as if the fabric of the dress was any concern.

"See what I mean?" you whispered. Slowly, he nodded, but his eyes remained pinned on your body, his gaze drinking in every inch of you, committing you to memory.

"Fuck, you look good," he murmured as if it pained him, letting the facade slip for a moment. Your heart fluttered in your chest and you began to play with the curls on the back of his head. He tilted his chin to look up at you, his lips parted and his cheeks a little flushed. Nothing else had happened since that afternoon in the ocean when he kissed you other than leaving you completely confused about the nature of your relationship. But in that moment, you couldn't care less. All you wanted was to feel his lips on yours again, to feel that spark of electricity over your skin, so you leaned down a fraction, your gaze flicking from his eyes to his lips, making your intention crystal clear.

Just as you were about to brush your lips against his, he pulled his head away and dropped his hands. Immediately, you straightened back up, embarrassment warming your face while you tried to figure out what you did wrong.

"We can't," was all he said, eyes drifting to look everywhere except at you. You nodded and quickly stepped back, shame coursing through your veins.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice cracking a bit. You cleared your throat and repeated yourself then hurried out of the room to get changed.

Joel called your name, asking you to come back, but you were too ashamed. Instead, you slipped back into the bathroom and practically ripped the purple dress off out of anger, vowing to tuck it way back into the depths of your closet so you wouldn't have to look at it the entire rest of the trip.

By the following morning, you forced yourself to brush off the awkwardness with Joel from the day before. You had three more weeks to spend with him pretending to be his fianceé and you refused to let one uncomfortable situation dictate the rest of your time there. So you plastered on a big smile for him the next morning when you exited your room with your bags in each hand. You could tell he wasn't sure how to react. He tiptoed lightly around you, making sure he didn't even accidentally touch you as you both moved around the hotel room collecting everything you would need.

In the elevator ride down to the lobby, he tried to bring it up but you cut him off before he could even finish his sentence.

"Did you remember your seasick medication?"

He floundered for a moment, scanning your face for any sign of bitterness, but he found none. If you wanted to pretend it never happened, that was fine by him.

"Yeah," he finally said, and you nodded before turning to stare straight ahead at the closed elevator doors.

He didn't try to mention it again.

When you arrived at the dock with the sun just beginning to peek over the water, casting the ocean in a beautiful golden hue, you felt your mood instantly improve. You were in fucking paradise and nothing was going to ruin that for you.

The crew was loading up your belongings and you were chatting with Glenn and Mary about how excited you were when Glenn's phone pinged in his hand.

He tugged his glasses out of his shirt pocket so he could read the text and he let out a disappointed groan.

"Ian's got food poisoning, Harry says," he told the three of you, "they can't make it. That's a damn shame."

"Oh, that's terrible. I hope it's not too serious," Mary said sympathetically.

You heard the telltale sound of heels tapping on the wooden planks behind you and you turned around to see the rest of the couples, along with Trevor and Brooks, arriving. The crew hurried past to assist with their bags and for the first time all day, Joel wrapped an arm around your waist. Your muscles stiffened at first and he felt it. Guilt washed over him before he cleared his throat and lifted his other hand in greeting. Zoe spotted you and waved excitedly, her energy just as infectious in the early morning hours.

When you spotted Tammy a few yards behind Zoe, your smile faltered a bit. You still hadn't brought up what you learned to Joel. Did you even have a right to know about his past with Tammy? You thought you did given how it could blow your cover, but maybe it was just gossip.

Still, it got under your skin.

When Zoe greeted you with a hug, you caught the look of distaste Tammy shot to Lynne before turning her head to gaze out over the ocean. It couldn't just be in your head at this point. There was definitely something going on with these women that you were not privy to yet.

Joel took your hand and lead you aboard the yacht, once again feeling the discomfort at his touch radiating off you.

He handled everything all wrong, he knew that almost immediately. It was all his fault. He was weak that day in the ocean and couldn't stop himself from kissing you, and now you were confused and hurt, but there was a reason he didn't want a traditional sugar baby agreement. He needed to keep his eye on the prize and stay focused, not standing there pretending to admire the lavish sitting room Glenn was showing everyone while wondering if you were wearing the lingerie he purchased for you.

How the hell did you manage to weave your way into his psyche so fast?

After the tour of the yacht, which was luxurious and had three levels, you were shown your private rooms, all of which included your own bathroom and a window so you could admire the sea from bed.

Joel ticked his jaw to the side as he looked around while you began to unpack a few of your things.

"I can sleep on the floor," he said. Your back was to him but he saw your hands freeze inside your bag before you took a deep breath and continued to pull out your toiletries.

"Don't be ridiculous. We can manage two nights in the same bed."

Even though you couldn't see him, he nodded anyway. He should just say it. Say he's sorry. Sorry for all of it. Sorry for leading you on, sorry for hurting your feelings, sorry for staring at your legs and wondering what they would feel like wrapped around his head.

The guests slowly made their way into the indoor sitting area once they settled in. If there wasn't an entire wall made of glass so you could look out the back of the yacht, you would have thought you were in another mansion. The carpet was plush and white under your feet. When you saw how pristine it was, you almost wanted to ask if you should take your sandals off, but instead you took Joel's lead and left them on.

There were three long, white couches that formed a U shape around a large, cherry wood coffee table. Above your heads the ceiling was dotted and lined with soft lights, giving the whole room a very warm and inviting glow. Abstract art hung on the walls but there wasn't much space: any wall that bordered the sea was made of glass. And across from the couches, built up against an interior wall was a bar that appeared to be stocked with every liquor and mixer known to man.

The crew had poured glasses of champagne and mimosas and left them on the bar. They were standing at attention against the wall near the kitchen, waiting to jump into action if need be.

Joel picked up two mimosas and handed you one. You nearly declined when you noted the early hour but decided to take it anyway with a quiet thanks.

"Meant to tell you, I like your nails," Joel said, pointing to your fingers wrapped around your glass. You gave him a small smile before looking back down at your glittery, hot pink nails.

"Thanks," you said, wishing you felt as excited about them as you were yesterday.

Glenn clapped his hands loudly, commanding the attention of the room. He let everyone know breakfast would be served on the dining room on the deck in ten minutes and encouraged people to grab a drink before heading out.

The moment the glass doors were opened, your senses were overcome with fresh, sea-salt air and an occasional fine mist that was being vented above the partially enclosed area.

Everyone found a seat around the square table that was already set with beautiful white plates trimmed in gold with matching bowls and mugs. When the crew began to place trays of fruit, baked goods, meats, eggs, and yogurt on the table, you leaned into Joel and tapped his shoulder.

"Did you take your medicine?" you whispered.

He smiled and put his glass down so he could fish the bottle of pills from his pocket.

"Thank you. That woulda been ugly," he joked, making you giggle before reaching for the tray of fruit. His chest warmed at the sound, pleased to see you smiling again but damn near giddy that he was the one to make you laugh.

You weren't terribly hungry but you nibbled at some fruit and yogurt, knowing you should at least try to eat something if you were expected to keep up with the way the group drank.

After about an hour at the table where you nursed the same mimosa Joel had given you earlier, Glenn stood up and suggested the men go to the top floor for cigars and poker.

"Looks like it's just us, ladies," Mary said gleefully when all the men began to place their cloth napkins on the table and, collecting their own drinks, stood to follow Glenn up the stairs.

"You good?" Joel asked softly before he left. You quickly nodded and shooed him off. You were still feeling rather vulnerable from being shot down the day before but you could feel yourself coming around. Maybe some distance and distraction would help.

If only you knew what the day had in store.

By noon the sun was blazing, the heat seared your skin as you laid out on your lounge chair with the other women. You could smell the faint hint of cigar smoke and hear the laughter from the men up above, but you couldn't see them from where you were. Occasionally you would hear Joel's voice, his southern twang becoming deeper and louder the more he drank and you found yourself smiling.

You were at least three drinks deep and you felt completely relaxed. All your concerns drifted away, getting twisted in the breeze and floating over the water. You even managed to find Tammy somewhat tolerable as you listened to her tell the group about her teenage son and a girl he was dating.

Maybe Zoe was wrong. Maybe it was just a rumor. Tammy seemed to be happy and fulfilled. She had what appeared to be a very strong marriage with Scott and they had two boys. By all accounts, they appeared to be a very happy family.

"I think I'm gonna take a break in the shade," Zoe announced, fanning herself while she picked up her things.

"Okay, dear. There should be chilled bottles of water out but if not, just ask the bartender. He can get you whatever you need," Mary told her while she adjusted her enormous sun hat.

"I think I'll join you," you said, suddenly feeling like your mouth was coated in sand. You couldn't even remember drinking any water since the hotel that morning.

The three other women waved politely when you stood and followed Zoe back inside where the air conditioning embraced you like an old friend.

"Oh, god, that feels nice," you groaned. The room was empty except for one bartender who was taking stock of the liquor with a clipboard. He quickly set it aside when Zoe approached and asked for two waters. You picked a couch and set your things down next to you with a sigh, then thanked Zoe when she handed you a frosted glass bottle of water.

Both of you practically chugged your respective drinks in under a minute, then giggled when you realized how crazy you must have looked.

"We gotta pace ourselves," Zoe said with a grin and a shake of her head. "It's gonna be a long night. Zach said we aren't supposed to reach the island til six, and with the time it will take for the crew to set up and cook, we'll be eating dinner late."

"That means we'll be getting back here even later," you said, finishing her thought.

She nodded and tossed her hair over her shoulder, her eyes a little glassy and her cheeks a little pink, either from the sun or alcohol or both. But based on the way she couldn't stop laughing at the smallest thing, you suspected alcohol was the bigger reason. When she glanced at you and erupted into a fit of giggles again without having to say a word, you knew for sure she was a little past tipsy.

"What?" you laughed, her silly mood too contagious to resist.

"Nothing, nothing," she said with a wave, then seemed to think about it for a second before giving you a mischievous grin and leaned forward, cupping her hand around her mouth in an attempt to muffle her voice, but it didn't work.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

You shrugged and nodded. "Sure."

She giggled again, slapping her palm over her mouth and tucking her chin against her chest. You frowned and laughed at how ridiculous she was acting and wondered what on earth she was about to say.

She cupped her hand over her mouth again and whispered loudly, "how is Joel in bed?"

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise at her question. Instantly, images and daydreams of what you thought Joel would be like in bed flashed across your mind. What the weight of his body would feel like pressed against yours, pushing you into the mattress. How his lips would feel wrapped around your nipple, his teeth teasing and pinching your skin. Would he kiss you slow and deep or passionate and needy? Would he groan your name when he buried his cock deep inside you? What was his favorite position?

All these things and more you had found yourself wondering more times than you could count since a few days ago in the ocean. He had completely taken over your mind to the point where you could hardly remember the girl you were when you first met, sitting in his office ready to storm out because of his abrupt and seemingly unpleasant nature.

You cleared your throat as you bought some time to scrounge up a lie.

"He's... good. Really good," you added. She nodded excitedly and rolled her wrist, urging you to continue. "He's attentive and... he doesn't rush." You could feel your cheeks heating up when you realized you were just telling her what you wished he was like, what you wished any of the men you had been with were like, only to always fall short in some way or another. "I'm not saying he can't be-" you glanced over your shoulder before lowering your voice, "rougher, because he can. There's been times I can hardly move after," you giggled and she gasped enthusiastically. "But he's always so sweet when we're done. He takes such good care of me, gets me whatever I need, tells me how beautiful I am." You swallowed, feeling only slightly pathetic at how you were turning yourself on with your own lies.

"How about Zach? What's he like?" you asked, changing the subject. Her face fell and she waved you off before taking another sip of water.

"Girl, c'mon, you know the answer to that."

Now it was your turn to gasp but the corners of your mouth twitched into a playful smile.

"What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes at you and sighed. "You've seen him. He's not hiding anything spectacular, I promise you that."

Zach was significantly older than Zoe. Their age difference especially showed when he stood after sitting for a while, groaning deeply and usually needing a hand to steady himself, or when his phone alarm went off at various times during the day, volume practically maxed out, reminding him to take some pill. But you never got the impression Zoe was unhappy until now.

"So why are you with him?" you asked. Of course, you had to assume his money had something to do with it, but her answer was still not what you expected.

"Can you keep a secret?" she asked conspiratorially. You nodded and leaned forward. Zoe glanced around to make sure nobody else snuck into the massive sitting room before she whispered, "I'm a sugar baby."

"Y-you're... what?" you asked, your voice wavering. Fuck, you really wished you didn't have that last mojito. You were trying to keep your cool but your vision was swimming and your mind was buzzing.

"I think Tammy and Lynne suspect something. I think that's why they don't like me," she said, leaning back and gazing out to the ocean. "Nobody knows for sure, you can't say a word," she said, fear suddenly gripping her. "If Glenn found out, it would be over for Zach. Glenn holds way too much weight on family shit. He already isn't thrilled with our age difference," she sighed, gazing down at her freshly manicured nails. "But between you and me, I hope he doesn't get this land. He wouldn't be able to afford me anymore. Like, I want what's best for him and I want him to be happy, but this relationship is running its course, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah," you breathed, "wow, I had no idea."

She shrugged and picked up her phone. "It's really not a bad gig, but it would be a hell of a lot better if the guys looked like Joel instead of Zach," she giggled.

You laughed softly and took another sip of your water, your mind reeling. The pressure to pull off this little stint was mounting. Joel wasn't the only one who noticed Glenn was a man with family values and tried to do the exact same thing, and now more than ever Joel's alleged affair with Tammy seemed like a huge loose end that could jeopardize your whole lie.

Your nerves got the best of you. Looking back on it, you should have realized that before having two more drinks with lunch, but Zoe's bombshell left you rattled and you got carried away.

Around four in the afternoon, the men returned from the upper deck with their skin pink and their shirts a little damp from sweat, but they were all smiles when they stepped out onto the deck to find their partners with the exception of Glenn's sons, who came by themselves.

Joel didn't notice at first how tipsy you were because you did your best to hide behind a pair of sunglasses and a large hat. He sat down on the lounge chair near yours, looking like he had a couple drinks himself but not nearly as many as you. He appeared relaxed and at ease, no doubt pleased by whatever progress he made with Glenn in the past few hours.

"How's everythin' goin' down here?" he asked, his eyes scanning around the crowd of people who were beginning to mingle.

"Good," you said, "I found out some very interesting information that-" you hiccupped and covered your mouth, "that you would find interesting."

He raised an eyebrow at you and smirked. "Interesting information that I would find interesting?"

"Mhmm," you said, nodding vigorously this time. "I will tell you later," you added, unnecessarily enunciating each word, "when we're alone," you whispered, not realizing your voice was still rather loud. It didn't matter anyway, nobody could overhear you when the guests were all breaking up into groups and talking over each other, but still.

He grinned and glanced around the deck, "Alright, then," he replied. He was about to say more when his eyes landed on someone over your shoulder and he stiffened. You were too slow on the uptake to see what Tammy was mouthing to him, but when he subtly nodded and stood up, you glanced behind you to see her walking discreetly into the yacht, leaving her clueless husband behind.

"I'll be right back," he said to you, and before you could say anything to stop him, he strolled off in her wake, leaving you all alone.

You could blame the alcohol and pretend you weren't jealous, but you were absolutely fuming. Zoe had to be right. How could he be so careless? Did he really think nobody would notice? How could he not tell you about his history with Tammy when it could all blow up in your faces?

Then something occurred to you that made your stomach roll and you had to take a few deep breaths to fight back the wave of nausea.

What if they were still having an affair?

Is that why he didn't want to take things further with you? We can't, he had said. Was he fucking another man's wife this entire time?

You never felt so stupid in your life. Of course, that's what it was. No wonder he put a clause in your contract stating that sex was not to be part of the agreement. How fucking pathetic of him to act so faithful to another man's wife.

What if he was fucking her right now?

You stood up too quickly and lost your balance, but fortunately an arm shot out to steady you.

"Hey, you okay?"

You glanced up over your sunglasses to find Brooks, one of Glenn's sons, standing there with his hand wrapped around your arm looking concerned.

Quickly, you shook your head and forced a smile. "Yeah, the sun got to me, I think," you told him, then after another moment you realized his grip around your bicep hadn't loosened. Your eyes slowly drifted down to his hand and you gave your arm a little tug. Finally, he released you and you gave him a polite chuckle before fixing your cover up so you would feel less exposed in your bikini under his gaze.

"My dad says we should be reaching the island soon," he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his board shorts. They were neon blue and hung low on his hips. Almost too low, as if he were trying to draw your attention to it.

"Yeah, it sounds great. Should be fun," you mumbled, glancing around the deck, still not finding Joel or Tammy.

"Ever been here before?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. You shook your head.

"To Fiji? No," you answered.

"I'm surprised. It's a pretty common vacation spot for people in Joel's circle," Brooks said. If you were a little less distracted you might have picked up on the fact that he said Joel's circle and not your circle, but you didn't. You were too fixated on your anger and you were fueled by one too many drinks.

"Yeah - would you excuse me? I need to use the restroom," you said, gathering your things in your arms.

"Sure thing," he said, taking a step back so you could brush past him. "See you at dinner."

You gave him what you hoped was a polite wave before storming towards the glass doors that led into the yacht, but just when you were a few feet away, the door swung open and Tammy stepped out. It could have been your paranoia, but you thought she had a little smirk on her face when she passed by you and after that, all you saw was red.

You breezed through the sitting room. The only other people around were two servers who were quietly packing up dishware to take to the beach, then Joel suddenly appeared in the entryway that led back to your room wearing a different shirt than before and you clenched your teeth.

"Hey, was just comin' to get you," he said, not yet picking up on your anger. "You should get ready for dinner, we'll be there soon."

You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms, uncaring that you could be overheard when you spat, "whatever you say, daddy," your tone clipped and dripping with disdain.

The muscles in his jaw twitched and his nostrils flared when he finally sensed your energy. He looked up, catching the eye of one of the crew members, who quickly averted his gaze and pretended not to have overheard what you said, then grabbed your arm.

You had the presence of mind not to fight him and cause a scene, but once he hauled you halfway down the hallway towards some privacy, you wrenched your arm out of his hold.

"The hell's the matter with you?" he seethed. "Are you fuckin' drunk?"

You rolled your shoulder, trying to fix your coverup that slipped down your arm while staring daggers at him.

"What's the matter with me?" you repeated, "what about you? What are you doing? Do you really think nobody sees what's going on?"

He furrowed his brow in confusion and made a face. "What are you talkin' 'bout?"

You took a menacing step forward and lowered your voice. "I'm talking about Tammy, Joel."

His eyes flashed with something you couldn't identify and you hardly had a chance to react before he grabbed your arm again and practically dragged you the rest of the way down the hall towards your room. Once you were safely inside, he slammed the door behind him and stalked over to you, making you stumble backwards in surprise.

"What the hell do you know 'bout that?"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, trying to push down the wave of envy that bubbled up. "So it is true."

"Answer my fuckin' question," he growled, his eyes steely and his breath coming in quick. You shrugged and tried your best not to look nervous while being the target of his wrath.

"That you're having an affair," you said simply.

He stared down at you for what felt like hours before he exhaled and stepped back. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head before murmuring, "who told you?"

"Zoe," you sneered, taking one step backwards so you could rest your head against the wall. "Guess that means Zach knows, too."

"Fuck," he grumbled, then dragged his palms down his face in agony. "Fuck!" he said again, but shouted it that time and pounded his fist on top of a dresser.

You watched him nervously as he paced around the room, his anger beginning to sober you up a bit.

"You should have told me," you snapped. He swiveled around to look at you, his jaw so tight he could have cracked a tooth. "You could have ruined this entire thing but you're lucky I was quick on my feet and covered for you."

"You only need to know what I say you need to know," he said darkly, sending a shiver down your spine. "You were hired to do a job, so fuckin' do it."

You swallowed the lump in your throat when you saw the look in his eye.

"I'm trying, but you-"

"No," he said, cutting you off and closing the distance between you. "You were hired to look pretty and act like you're in love with me. That's fuckin' it. Everythin' else is none of your goddamn business."

You were just digging your own grave at that point so you figured there was no harm in tossing one more barb his way.

"Suppose it would have been too much to ask for you to at least tell me why you left sex out of our arrangement, but at least I know now it's not me. It's 'cause you're getting it somewhere else."

He inhaled sharply, his scowl cutting you in half.

"That's what this is 'bout?" he asked, stepping even closer. "You got your feelin's hurt yesterday?" His tone implied insincere pity and it sent a jolt of embarrassment through you but you remained quiet and held his gaze. He somehow had managed to cage you in against the wall, his arms bracing around your head as he leaned in closer. You could now smell a hint of toothpaste on his breath from when he came in earlier, without you, and you couldn't stop your next words from tumbling out.

"Did you bring her back here and fuck her in the bed I'm going to sleep in tonight?"

He smirked. He fucking smirked and you never in your life wanted to slap someone more.

"Jealous, baby?" he cooed. You shook your head but he just continued to give you that smug look. "Oh, I think you are. And you know what else?" He was taunting you now and you should have pushed him away but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. He leaned in so his lips brushed against your ear when he whispered, "I think you would let me fuck you right now, if I wanted to."

Tears sprung up in your eyes unexpectedly so you quickly slid them shut. You refused to let him have the satisfaction of your humiliation.

Finally, he pushed himself off the wall and gave you space so you could breathe. With your eyes still closed, he spoke again from the other side of the room.

"I was gone ten minutes. Gimme some credit. I ain't fuckin' anyone in ten minutes."

You heard him yank open the closet and you managed to crack open your eyelids with a pathetic sniffle, watching as he tossed a black dress onto the bed.

"Get ready. We'll be leavin' for the island soon." Then disappeared through the door.

It only took about five minutes before Joel calmed down when the guilt crept in again. Once more he handled another situation with you as poorly as possible and to top it off, he was fairly certain he brought you to tears when he left.

He was so fucking stupid. He should have just told you the truth. He should have told you he hadn't slept with Tammy in over a year and what they had was over, but he just had to keep pushing and pushing. How did he keep making mistake after mistake? You weren't wrong. He should have given you a heads up about Tammy, but he never thought anyone else knew. And instead of admitting it, he lashed out, taking his anger out on you when it wasn't even your fault to begin with. It was his, for being careless and stupid enough for others to find out.

When you emerged from your shared room looking refreshed and fucking stunning in the dress he had rudely thrown onto the bed, he almost apologized. He wanted to, but one look at you told him you were not at all ready to hear it, so he swallowed his words and gave you some space. Well, as much space as he could allow when you were surrounded by ten other people on a deserted beach at sunset eating dinner.

He resisted the urge to drape his arm around the back of your chair or brush his fingers against yours where they rested on the table. Please forgive me, I'm sorry, he kept thinking every time he glanced your way, but you avoided all eye contact and focused on the conversation around you.

During dinner, he noticed you had not one but two more drinks and hardly touched a thing on your plate. He wanted to say something, he wanted to encourage you to at least eat a little more, but he couldn't risk setting you off again, especially in front of everyone. So he bit his tongue and smiled politely when he needed to but mentally he was scrambling to come up with a way to make things up to you.

You stretched your neck with a sigh at one point, drawing his attention, his eyes lingering on the way your fingers trailed down your throat, then watched when you pressed two fingertips into a sore spot on the base of your neck.

How could you ever think he wouldn't want you? Of course, he wanted you. Anyone in their right mind would want you. The second he laid eyes on you it was all he could think about. How could you not see that?

Fortunately, the entire group seemed to be tired so nobody really noticed or cared that you and Joel were not very talkative. On the boat ride back, he instinctively reached for your hand when the boat swayed a little in the choppy waters, but you quickly pulled your arm out of reach and turned away.

It was past ten and the waves were rockier than earlier. He wanted to thank you again for reminding him to take his motion sickness pill but he refrained. Fuck, what he wouldn't give to go back to that part of the day and do everything over.

When the boat reached the yacht, you practically leapt off and jogged back inside, his heart sinking in his chest at your retreating form. He offered his good nights and slowly followed you with his head hung low and his hands shoved in his pockets, but when he finally reached your room he realized the real reason you had been in such a hurry.

The moment he opened the door he could hear you retching in the bathroom and his eyes widened. He closed the door behind him quickly and he rushed to the bathroom, pausing on the other side of the door, unsure what to do or say.

"Are you alright?" he finally asked.

"Does it sound like I'm alright?" you shot back before gagging once again. He winced.

"I'll get you some ginger ale and crackers," he said, spinning around the room until he found a mini refrigerator stocked with a few necessities. As expected, some seasick items were supplied, and he picked out a few things he thought might help. Setting them down on your end table, he turned around and scratched his chin.

While he waited for you to emerge, he got himself changed into more comfortable clothes and then went in search of your own pajamas to lay out for you when you were ready. In one of the drawers he found a few motion sickness bags and he left one out for you when an idea struck. Quickly, he rummaged through his pants from earlier and triumphantly pulled out a little plastic bottle of pills.

When was the last time he ever tried this hard for a woman?

Just as he was about to call out to you again, you swung open the door. Your face looked pale and your eyes were red but you remained defiant and refused to glance his way. You spotted the clothes he laid out for you, and then the items on your bedside, and he thought he saw a flicker of affection in your eyes before you blinked and it was gone.

"Here," he said, holding out the bottle for you. "Take one of these, it'll help."

You stared at it for a few moments as you weighed your options, then begrudgingly snatched it from his hand and tapped one out into your palm. Tossing the bottle onto his side of the bed, you swallowed the pill with the water he set out for you and picked up your pajamas before retreating back into the bathroom for some privacy.

By the time you had changed, Joel had already switched the television on low to some bright sitcom he thought you might like and had turned down the bed. He sat on his side of the mattress, shamefully staring down at his fingers laced together in his lap, then glanced up when he heard the door open and the light turn off.

"Thank you," you murmured before sliding into bed and pulling the covers up to your chin.

"You're welcome," he said softly. He watched you silently for a few minutes while the corners of your mouth twitched occasionally at something that was said on the television, then he cleared his throat, warning you he was about to speak.

"I'm sorry," he said, brows pinching together. You looked up at him in surprise but said nothing, so he continued. "I shoulda told you 'bout Tammy. You were right. And I shouldn't've said... that other stuff," he added weakly, looking down at his hands again. "I ain't any good at this," he continued, pursing his lips in thought. "I push people away, I say all the wrong shit, always have, and now I'm doin' it to you. And it's... it ain't right."

You scanned his face, your resolve crumbling when you saw the sincerity behind his eyes.

"It's okay," you finally said, your voice sounding so small from underneath the plush comforter.

He shook his head. "No, it ain't."

"No, but I forgive you, anyway."

He finally dragged his eyes up to meet yours and smiled. "Thank you, darlin'."

You sighed and readjusted a bit under the covers. "I'm sorry, too."

"Nothin' for you to be sorry for."

"I got too drunk and embarrassed you. It won't happen again."

He scoffed and gave you a look of disbelief. "Half the people on this boat got just as drunk as you. These people are borderline alcoholics," he said, making you giggle a little. He grinned, his heart soaring when he heard the sound. "None of 'em probably even remember we went to dinner."

You laughed a little louder at that and he joined in with a chuckle under his breath. He could feel his muscles relaxing, his nerves settling. He may have just salvaged things yet.

Joel leaned back and tucked his legs under the covers, watching the sitcom but not really absorbing anything. In the past, when he let his mind wander, it was not exactly the way he pictured being in bed with you, but it was still nice.

"Things are over with me 'n her, by the way," he said after a long, comfortable silence. Your body stiffened and you tipped your head in his direction.

"Why didn't you just tell me that to begin with?"

He grinned and shrugged. "Maybe I liked it when you got jealous."

Your cheeks flared with heat and you pulled the bedding up tighter around you.

"Asshole," you muttered. He laughed, making you smile.

"I deserved that."

He could tell when you began to drift off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw your head tilt towards your shoulder and your perfect lips part ever so slightly. You began to snore so softly, it almost seemed fake. No one looked and sounded that beautiful when they slept. Especially after being sick. But of course, you did. He should have known.

Joel reached over and flicked the lights off, washing the room in the television's glow, then slid deeper underneath the covers. Quietly, he turned the TV off and waited until his eyes adjusted to the darkness before rolling his head to the side to look at you.

What the hell were you doing to him?

It had only been a week and he could already feel himself falling, already doing things out of character and feeling more at ease in general.

So what was one more thing?

Carefully, so as not to wake you, he inched forward and wrapped one arm around your middle, pausing to see if you would stir. When your breath remained steady and even, he got a little closer and pulled.

You took a deep breath and sighed, then rolled onto your side. He closed the remaining space between you and tucked you against his chest while snaking one arm under your pillow, the other still around your waist.

The last thing he remembered thinking was how your hair smelled like coconut and vanilla, a comforting scent he wanted to wrap himself in that was so soft and addicting, it put him right to sleep.

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[suguru-getos]

What about yan Satosugu who take it too far? Imagine them breaking their darling to a damage they can’t repair?

ksjdfshgkkjsh this is my favorite troupe.

warnings: v v v dark! (reader die-th? reader can contemplate :3), belt-spanking, reader ran away from satosugu, mentions of throwing-up, abuse, self-harm.

"please daddy, please no no no…" little human that satoru and suguru loved oh so much, why did you have to escape? it breaks their heart. you know it just from their facial expressions. "suguru- please" you whine out, shuddering and crying with wailing screams. you are hung from the ceiling, throttling on your tippytoes, ass bruised from the way the belt welts on you. you are bleeding from the skin breaking. "daddy- please." your voice stops coming out from your throat, too traumatized and destroyed by screaming and wailing for mercy. "please- please" you are wheezing out in air, your own voice has given up. "ssh, it's okay. just 4 more." suguru chides, "didn't want to hurt you." he muses, landing the smack of the belt across your ass once more. satoru smirked, oh you look so cute, unable to scream anymore and just dancing on your feet with the impact. you feel nausea hurling your movements, throwing up because you couldn't take it anymore. though nothing comes out except water… you haven't eaten well, since after your running spree.

that stops suguru, and satoru hugs you gently. "just three more." they have decided they would finish the punishment no matter what. "sshh~ don't worry, doing so good for us. I will clean you up." if you really can't be theirs, they would make you fear them into submission. make you fear them and forcefully take their love which they're owed.

the next three hits come, and when it stops. you're too dazed with pain to even register the comfort. the flesh of your ass raw and agitated. bruised, welted, veins popped and skin breaking in blood. "ssh ssh, that's it. it's over now. you did so good. it's all over." suguru coos, demeanor changed instantly as he gathers you in his arms. immediately taking you towards the bathroom. they need to clean up their poor baby. "why do you even run away angel… do you not know we are the strongest?"

satoru sighs, he is still wrangled by the feeling of betrayal intertwined with the feeling of guilt for giving you so much pain, panic and trauma.

"that's okay princess… you wouldn't do it again right? tell suguru you wouldn't do it again." he asks you gently, ignoring the way your half-lidded eyes do not respond after the torture. oh you're passing out, satoru gnaws at his lip, watching you look lifeless.

it was expected, you passed out in front of suguru and satoru. and they had a long discussion whether or not it was right or wrong to subject you into something like this. "satoru, punishments are supposed to hurt." suguru reminds, while satoru nods, "not until she passes out, she even threw up…" he sighs, "but she didn't need to run, that's also true." suguru nodded. "I know, I can understand that… hurts me more than it hurts her." suguru chimes, and satoru nods. "I wouldn't be able to do it, I would've stopped when she started crying." he admits, only suguru could get firm enough to carry it throughout.

they are mixed with guilt and promise each other to be kinder, there is no way you would actually love them after this. that fleeting hope that fueled satoru's delusion was now making him restless.

the next day when you wake up, you were a completely different person, screaming from panic the moment the two men entered with breakfast, it was so evident how your fear made you cry out for help. it makes suguru tear up, because you do not look at satoru the way you look at suguru. you look like you want to die, like you would do anything to be granted death.

"angel… it's okay, it's all over. please-" suguru almost begs, and you feel like throwing up again. this time satoru takes the lead, walking towards you and hugging you. he was clearly not welcome. yet… your body couldn't help but relax a little under his warm embrace. it was only until a few hours later, that they found you in the bathroom, head bleeding… passed out. you had just excused yourself to shower. limping all the way… to inflict a pain like that, was terrifying. who said they could only instil pain and fear into you. you couldn't find blades, couldn't find anything… so you banged your head against the fucking wall instead… "is this how much you fucking hate me!" satoru screams out, checking your pulse.

"SUGURU!" he screams, and the latter comes out rushing. watching you life-less in satoru's hold. "is- is she?" suguru blinks, tears brimming in his eyes.

it was clear, satosugu could never hope to win. not when you clearly fear them more than your own death.

[readsaboutreid]

Fantasies | S.R.

this is smutty smutty smut smut so it's 18+, minors please dni

honestly this is just like a fantasy of mine inspired by how wildly hot this entire exchange is what can i say i'm a scifi girlie (gender neutral) and i figured it might make a good fic so here goes nothing

this is part 1 of 2

contains: unprotected sex (creampie), oral (f receiving), munch!spencer, softdom!spencer

“—but the reason the entire ritual was considered taboo wasn’t because Vulcans were supposed to be portrayed as prudish virgins, that’s all I’m saying,” (Y/N) ranted at JJ and Prentiss, gaining amused but shocked and confused stares from the two of them. When they had found out about her relationship with Spencer they might have been less than shocked but they had never seen her ramble like this in such a Reid-esque fashion.

Penelope Garcia, being ever the one to playfully tease her best friend decided to push the young agent’s buttons a little bit by playfully arguing back, “but then why all the secrecy around the ritual when it comes to other species knowing about it?” Which made (Y/N) roll her eyes in response and groan, and earning her glances from JJ and Prentiss that screamed why would you keep this going for longer?!

"Fucking Christ, Penny, you should know this, ugh—the ritual of Pon Farr is considered taboo because of the depth of emotions experienced by the Vulcans as they enter it, not because it has to do with sexual reproduction; Vulcans have sex outside of Pon Farr and we know this for a fact not only because Trip is literally told outright that Vulcans have sex by a Vulcan when he asked, but also because if Vulcans only ever copulated during Pon Farr, then Vulcan generations would always be seven years apart in age," her exasperation was nearly palpable as she ranted speedily, gaining good spirited laughter from Garcia while she her friend rage over something that they all knew in the end was fairly insignificant.

Spencer watched this entire exchange from his desk across the bullpen with a fond smile and a warm, floaty feeling blooming across his chest. That was when Garcia noticed him staring from his desk and moved to literally drag him into the discussion, deciding that everyone must join in the procrastination socialization. "What the—hey!" Spencer barely managed to steady himself and keep from falling out of the chair.

"I wanna know what our resident boy wonder has to contribute to the discussion," Penelope laughed in a singsong-y voice as she got him to the table they were all congregating at together and rolled him right up next to the chair on which (Y/N) was perched.

She looked over at him and shot him a small wave and a quiet, "hi, love." And he melted. Instantly.

Her smile was so sweet that Spencer could do nothing for a moment but respond with his own toothy, lovestruck grin. He was snapped back to reality by Garcia literally snapping in front of him and chiding (Y/N) as she said, “what have you done to this boy? Are you a freakin’ witch or something?” Spencer and (Y/N) both laughed and Garcia then continued, "so, Reid, do you agree with (Y/N)’s impassioned rant?"

"Oh! Right," Spencer shook his head, "no, she's 100% correct. The ritual of Pon Farr does not solely dictate when Vulcans have sexual relations. It is simply a period of heightened emotions and bonding for them." He looked at (Y/N) with another soft smile, proud that she had such a vast knowledge of Star Trek lore.

"See, Penny? Even the genius agrees with me," (Y/N) teased playfully, earning a chuckle from the team and a light blush from Spencer.

Garcia clapped her hands together excitedly, “Well then let's—”

“—I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have a case,” Garcia’s bubbly lilt was cut off by the stern tone of Agent Hotchner as he summoned them to the briefing room. Everyone broke apart at that, following their Unit Chief to the round table. As they all took their seats Spencer made sure to sit by (Y/N) so he could secretly slip her hand into his under the table to cling to some semblance of goodness as they were filled in on the next of the worst of humanity they had to face.

Spencer and (Y/N) laid together in his bed as they always did after particularly rough cases. He ran his finger gently up and down her barely clothed back when she uttered a soft, “hey I have this, like, sort of random question.”

“Oh? What would that be?” Spencer whispered into her hair, half asleep.

“Do you have any, like, fantasies you’d wanna—?” Spencer was confused by her question and the look on his face as she looked up at him told her as much, so she clarified, “like, sexually?"

Well, now he was up. In multiple ways. He reached over and turned on his lamp and stammered out, "uh—w-what—where did that come from?" Spencer's voice rose multiple octaves while his heart skipped a beat.

"Well I just—," she started before cutting herself off and making a face that said she was thinking about how exactly she wanted to explain her thought process. "There's something I've been thinking about for a couple weeks." Her cheeks tinged pink in the soft light of his desk lamp as she shyly looked up at him through her lashes in a way that made his pajama pants start to feel uncomfortably tight.

"Oh? What would that be?" Spencer found himself echoing his first question, unable to focus on anything that wasn't (Y/N) (or her nipples, which were peeking through her thin tank top).

"Do you, um, do you remember that conversation about Pon Farr Penny and I were having a little while back?" She whispered, seeming embarrassed to be bringing it up.

"I do," he confirmed, nodding while he finally moved his eyes from her chest to her face, "why do you ask?" He leaned down and began peppering her face with soft kisses, drawing a symphony of giggles from her, before moving from her cheeks down her chin and then to her neck.

Her giggles turned to soft moans and she tried her best to form a response, but as Spencer began sliding his hand up underneath the fabric she found herself struggling to think through the haze. She finally managed to mutter a soft, "I just—mmm—the conversation got me thinking that it might be fun to—fuck, Spencer—to kind of, like, roleplay sometime—holy shit, Spencer, please don’t stop!" His fingers had found their way to her nipples and while she spoke he began gently teasing and tormenting them.

As Spencer continued to explore the sensitive skin of (Y/N)'s chest, she couldn't help but let out another moan, causing Spencer to pause momentarily to look into her eyes. "Roleplay?" Spencer whispered hoarsely, his voice laced with both excitement and curiosity as his fingers continued their dance on her skin. "What did you have in mind?"

(Y/N) bit her lip nervously, her eyes darting around the room as if seeking inspiration. "Well," she began hesitantly, "I was thinking something along the lines of, uh, maybe a kind of Trek-themed scenario? Like, you could be a Vulcan, and I—I could be your mate?" She trailed off, her voice barely above a whisper as she watched Spencer's expression.

"And what would that involve, exactly?" he asked, his voice low and sultry, his fingers still gently stroking her nipples.

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink. "Well, it might involve—uh, well, you know, some intimate bonding rituals."

Spencer laughed softly, the sound warm and low in the dimly-lit room. "You want me to roleplay as a Vulcan during Pon Farr and engage in 'intimate bonding rituals' with you?" He teased, a playful grin spreading across his face. He wanted to respond by saying, marry me; instead, he settled for, "I can't say I've ever really thought about that before, but I'm willing to give it a try." He began trailing kisses from her neck down to her chest while he tugged on the hem of her shirt, pulling it off of her when she raised her arms above her head for him.

He started trailing kisses down her stomach, stopping when he reached the waistline of her pajama shorts and looking up at her through his eyelashes. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her shorts and panties, and she lifted her hips instinctively so he could slide them down her legs. Spencer moved back up her body to kiss her softly on the lips before getting up off of the bed and standing at the edge, rotating (Y/N) 90° and gently pulling her until she was lined up at the edge of the bed before spreading her legs open and kneeling down in front of her slowly.

(Y/N) shuddered with anticipation at the feeling of his breath gently hitting her dripping center. When she looked down at him he was looking up at her, his amber eyes burning with lust and his pupils blown wide. He licked his lips before leaning in and kissing her burning core softly while running his tongue out to lap up some of the beautiful slickness that had accumulated with a soft moan. He tormented her with light teases from his tongue and her hips bucked up towards his mouth, making him use one of his hands to hold them down and look up at her with a stern expression that told her, 'hold still or I'll stop.'

She whimpered at the loss of his tongue, but it was only for a split second as she felt his index finger push up against her entrance. He teased the entrance by lightly moving up and down it, collecting her honey and bringing it up to his lips and licking it off before bringing his finger back. When he started slowly pushing his finger inside of her, he attached his lips to her clit and did a delightful thing with his tongue that made her nearly see white.

She reached down and tangled her fingers in his hair and gasped out a soft, "Spencer that feels so—oh god—so fucking good!" He slowly pumped his finger in and out of her, savoring the sensation of her soft walls around it. God, how he wanted to be inside of her right now. But there was no way he was going to be able to drag himself away from her pussy, not yet. He needed more. He slipped another finger into her and sucked on her clit, running his tongue around it in circles.

He kept this up and listened to her moans for guidance and encouragement, speeding his fingers up ever so slightly and feeling her body begin to tense up underneath him. Her moans began to increase in volume and frequency, her grip on his hair growing tighter as his fingertips ran across the spongy piece of flesh on the front wall of her pussy, earning a loud and desperate wail from (Y/N) as he felt her orgasm begin to take over her.

He moaned as he lapped up her juices and gave her pussy one last kiss before wiping his mouth and chin with his wrist and moving back up to kiss her desperately. He settled his clothed hips between her soaked legs and she ground her hips against his erection through his pants. He rocked his hips against her, finding a perfect rhythm. He moaned into her mouth before pulling back and standing up, untying the drawstring on his pants to pull them and his briefs down in one swift movement.

He took his place on top of her again and nestled his cock up against her. She reached down between their bodies and stroked his throbbing member before guiding it to her entrance. He wasted no time, pushing into her immediately and groaning in relief. For a brief second he could only think in images and single word fragments. 'Soft, wet, warm,' swirled around his mind in a whirlwind of lust and pleasure as he sank into her further, burying his cock fully inside of her.

"I, uh, I don't know how long I'm going to be able to, uh, last," Spencer admitted with a small, embarrassed laugh. (Y/N)'s only response was to roll her hips against his, drawing a surprised moan from his throat.

"I honestly don't care," she panted, "I just need you to fuck me." She looked at him with a gaze that drove him absolutely mad with lust. He pulled his hips back and began fucking her with slow but moderately hard thrusts, both of them moaning as they locked their lips together again. She met his thrusts with her own movements and brought her hands back up to tangle her fingers in his hair. She tugged at it gently and he moaned and started fucking her faster in response.

"Such a good girl for me, kitten," he purred into her ear. Each moan that fell from her lips pushed him closer and closer to the edge, until he was teetering at the point of no return. "You ready for me to fill you up, baby?" She moaned and nodded in response.

Her nails dug into his shoulders and he felt her pussy begin to flutter around his cock as her second orgasm took her by surprise and ripped through her body. Loud moans spilled from the both of them when Spencer felt himself tip over the edge and stilled with one final thrust inside of her. His cock pulsed as it pumped all of his cum into her.

Once he had pulled out of her he went into the bathroom and cleaned himself off. He grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the warm water before walking back out. He knelt in front of (Y/N) and began to gently clean her up. When he was finished he planted a sweet kiss on one of her thighs before tossing the rag into the laundry basket. He crawled back into bed next to her and laid down on his back.

"You're too far away," he pouted at (Y/N) and held his arms out. She moved up and settled happily within them, resting her head on his chest and nuzzling gently. He began playing with her hair and sighed happily before muttering a soft, "I love you, (Y/N)."

"Love you, too, Spence," she mumbled, already half asleep.

[glorystark]

Mr Barnes | teacher!Bucky Barnes x student!reader

Summary: Your English English teacher finally finds out why you’ve been failing your classes and he isn’t disappointed.

Warning: TEACHER X STUDENT, smut, age gap (reader is like 22 and Bucky like 30), fingering, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (don’t do this), language

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

You entered the class sighing hoping that he wouldn’t come today. You didn’t see him the whole day which was a good sign that he hadn’t come to school today. You took your seat which was in front of his desk which didn’t help the anxiety rushing through you. It’s not like you didn’t like your English teacher, no it was quite the opposite. It wasn’t easy to be taught by a hot college teacher who you assumed was about ten years older than you. You are always distracted by him and constantly the thoughts of him inside you, that you can’t even concentrate on the lesson anymore. You knew it was wrong but you just couldn’t get rid of the feeling.

You hoped someone would walk in the classroom, telling everyone that your teacher wouldn’t be here today, but all your hopes were ruined when Mr Barnes stepped into the room closing the door behind him, slightly smiling at everyone. He took his seat and said good morning which you all answered back as well.

”Alright guys before we start today’s lesson, I need to talk about your last test and your grades. This class is divided into three groups. There is group one with amazing grades and great participation in class, there is group two with good grades and ok participation in class and then there is group three, which well pretty much sucks” He chuckled and everyone laughed.

You already knew in which group you were. You weren’t a bad student at all, in fact you were a great student. But you sucked in English and he was the only reason why.

“Now” he said as he rose his hand to run it through his soft looking hair and his long fingers slipped between the strands. You imagine your own hand in his hair while he his fingers move in and out of you furiously. Just thinking about it you could feel the wetness between your legs, you squeezed your thighs harshly gritting your teeth. “here are the results.”

He started handing the papers out and as he handed you your paper, he smiled softly and his fingers brushed against yours making you jump slightly which made him frown.

“You alright miss Y/L/N?”he asked kindly

“ Y-yeah I'm fine.” you stuttered, he nodded his head walking off.

The rest of class was practically torture. You desperately trying to push away some certain thoughts while he was talking. You tried your best to concentrate but failed miserably, like always. When the bell finally rang you were one of the firsts to stand up and made your way towards the door until Bucky called your name.

“Hmm Y/N can you stay for a bit, there is something we need to discuss about.” you mumbled a 'ok' turning around, cursing in your head knowing you were in trouble because of your grades. You waited until the class was cleared out and once it was Bucky closed the door and walked over to you.

“ Y/N” the way he said your name made your core throb and you gripped the edge of the nearest table tightly. “I have been noticing your participation in my class hasn't been so great lately and your grades...” he slightly shook his head. “Is there any problem I can help you with? It's really surprising that your grades in my class are failing even though you are such a great student. I talked to your other teachers and English seems to be your only problem.”

You didn't know how to respond, I mean what are you supposed to say ' I'm sorry I can't stop thinking about you fucking me hardly on your table till I can't walk and that's why I'm failing your class.'

“You know you can tell me what's wrong, I can help you out.“ You know he can but he’s definitely are not thinking about the same solution as you. His eyes bore into yours as you let out a soft pant. “Tell me.”That's when you noticed you were standing closer than before.

“It's nothing Mr- Mr Barnes, I have been a bit distracted lately that's i-it.”

“ I can help you if you want, extra classes?” he said as he placed his hand on your shoulder and his hot washed over you which caused you to let out a small whimper. You slightly widened and bit your lip. You noticed a darker shade of his blue eyes and you knew he understood what was really going on.

“ I should l-leave.” you tried to make your way towards the door but he grabbed your hand. “Y/N you are not going anywhere right now.”

“But Mr Barnes-“

He cut you off by placing his lips on yours making you widen your eyes, again. His big hands gripped your waist and he pushed you against the wall, his lips moving hungrily against mine. You gripped the front of his shirt tightly, pulling him against you, your tongues battling with each other. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him into you further.

He pulled away for a moment, his teeth into your bottom lip before letting go. You were both panting slightly looking at each other with lustful eyes. You couldn't believe your everyday fantasy was actually happening.

“ I should have known it was me.” he slowly ran fingers along your jaw. “the reason why you are doing so bad at my class.”

He leaned in smirking, his hot breath washing over your ear, his hands squeezed your breasts lightly over your t-shirt as his tongue flicked across the shell of your ear.

“Tell me doll have you ever imagined this before?”

His lips slowly made their way to your neck and he made sure they brush every part of your skin on their way. He started sucking a bruise onto your skin and you let out a moan, finally being able to run your hands through his hair.

“ Because I have.” he mumbled into your skin, surprising you with his words. “ I have imagined you like this so many times, pushed against the wall looking at me with those eyes.” His hands slid down your torso under your skirt and he skimmed his fingers across the silky material of your panties. You moaned, bucking your hips ever so slightly into his hands. “I have noticed you sometimes biting while staring at me with those eyes but I didn’t expect you were thinking like that.” he let out a soft chuckle “Tell me doll have you ever touched yourself with the images of me in your head ?” his fingers played with the edge of the crotch of your panties.

“Mr Barnes please-“

“Bucky.”

“ Yes Bucky I have, please touch me.” You begged desperately making him smirk.

His fingers pushed aside the material and skimmed across your clit. You gasped and pushed your hips forward, wanting him to push his fingers deep inside you.

“So wet?” he asked, making a 'tsk' sound with is tongue. You let out a gasp as his thumb began rubbing your clit in a circular motion. And without any warning pushing two fingers into your throbbing core making you moan loudly.

“Now doll I would love to hear you scream but we can’t have anyone find us.”

You nodded gripping his shoulders, wanting to feel his bare skin beneath your palms. You undid the buttons of his shirt with some difficulty and placed your hands on his bare chest.

“Fuck” you mewled, as his the speed of his fingers increased. He grinned, and curved his fingers to hit a spot that sent made you arch into him, your mouth falling open as you cried out. His hand covered your mouth. “Shhhh” he softly whispered.

You moaned as softly as you could as his actions continued to send bursts of pleasure shooting through every nerve in your my body, and you desperately bucked your hips against his, wanting to cum so bad.

“You close doll?” He asked looking deeply into your eyes. “Are you gonna cum on my fingers?” You could only nod knowing you can’t make any sounds at the moment.

“Let go, cum for me.”

“Bucky I- fuck I-“

“Do it.” He said, his fingers moving with incredible speed and your stomach clenched as your hands slid to his back under the shirt, and you held on to him for dear life.

So you did. Bucky’s hand covered your mouth again as you moaned against it, bucking your hips as you came, your toes curling, your eyes rolling back into your head, and his name falling from your lips along with a few profanities. He pulled his fingers out of you and you sighed, your head falling onto his shoulder as you tried to catch your breath. You could feel his erection in his jeans resting against your thigh. He took your chin on two fingers and made you look up at him.

“Satisfied?” He took your chin in his hand.

“Not until you fuck me.” You said as you removed his shirt completely. He smirked letting you reach for the buttons of his pants. You pulled them down along with his boxers, making his erection spring free. He groaned softly at the freedom, and you felt my eyes widen at his size.

“Surprised?” He asked ironically but you didn’t answer.

“Fuck.Me.”

That’s all he needed to hear to remove your t-shirt and skirt. Then he took your hand and let you to his desk, lifting you up so you were sitting on it. He placed his hands on either side of you and kissed you roughly, his tongue slipped between your lips and tangling with your own. You whimpered slightly and he pulled away.

“You are so beautiful.” He smiled sweetly at you before gently taking off your bra and panties, his hands brushing against your skin, sending chills all over your body.

He took his cock in his hand, pumping it slowly. He hissed and his brow furrowed.He spread your legs apart positioning himself at your entrance, he slowly pushed in, taking his time to fill you in, making sure you adjusted well.

You both hissed as he settled within you and he took one breast in his mouth, he began moving. You gripped the back of his neck as he sucked harshly on your nipple, while massaging the other breast with his large hand. His skin slapped against yours and you cried out softly, chanting and moaning his name as every part of your body came alive with pleasure. Your nerves were on fire and your my mind empty of every rational and coherent thought, Bucky taking over your very being. His thrusts were fast and hard, and he was grunting against your skin as he kissed you, your neck, sucked on your collarbone, your breasts and let his hands all over your body.

“Damn it, you're so tight” he panted, his mouth hanging open. “Fuck, this is better than every time I imagined it.”

So he really did think of you like this too. The very thought made you gasp and you tightened your grip on him, purring in his ear.

Bucky’s thrusts were becoming irregular and sloppy, and you felt the familiar knot in your stomach yet again. Your moans and movements were becoming more desperate as you wheeled closer and closer to the edge, and you kissed each other roughly to hold your loud screams in. What you were experiencing was hot and raw, full of a passion and hunger that took your breath away, something you’d never experienced in your entire life.

“I'm gonna cum-“ he gasped. “Yes, fuck, yes.”

Bucky’s cock twitched inside you and he cried out slightly louder than he should have, as he shot ropes of white hot cum within you, moaning your name andgrunting and swearing and goddamn, it was everything you’d imagined, except a thousand times better. His face was red, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, sweat beading on his forehead, his hair a mess, lips swollen, eyes rolled back in pleasure and his mouth forming a perfect ‘o', soft pants and your name coming out of his mouth. You knew you weren’t reacting any different, just moaning his name. But he didn’t stop after he came, making sure to send you over the edges too and just a few seconds later you tried your best to not scream too loudly while you came for the second time, this time around his cock.

He pulled out of you and you whimpered at the loss of his cock within you. He dropped to his knees, and gripped you thighs tightly, forcing your legs apart. His tongue furiously attacked your clit, sucking and nibbling ever so lightly on it occasionally, you squealed and wound your fingers in his hair, snuggling his mouth further into your core. Your thighs tried to clamp themselves shut around his face but he forced them apart with his hands, and you came for the third time that afternoon. You panted and cried his name, your hands tightening in his hair as you thrusted my crotch into his mouth, and his tongue continued its work till you were spent.

He pulled away and stood up as you came back down floating from your incredible high, breathing hard. He kissed you, but this time it was softer, gentler, less urgent. He pulled away and you saw his eyes were back to the sparkling blue they really were, and his smile was light but genuine. He stroked your cheek with his thumb once before dropping his hand and walking away to retrieve you clothes. You put them on in silence, and your mind was whirling with what had just gone down. You’d had sex with your teacher, and if someone found out, you could get into endless amounts of trouble. So could he. It was so wrong, but you didn't remember feeling this amazing in a long time. It might be wrong but it felt right.

“ So” he said, breaking the silence. “ I think I should apologize for being such a distraction for you. Not my intention.” He turned to smile at you, one end of his mouth curling upwards. You insides warmed up as the smile lit up his face and your heart melted.

” I think you sort of made up for it.” you mumbled shyly, straightening your hair with your fingers.

“ Hey how do you feel about Saturday going out with me for Coffee.”

“Mr Barnes-“

“Bucky”

“Bucky, if we go out people may see us together and we can’t risk that..”

His face fell but he still smiled slightly and you immediately felt bad. “ You are right, I could lose my job and you could lose your education, I’m sorry for asking.”

You felt terrible but smiled back and walked towards the door placing your hand on the door knob.

"Wait Y/N.” he said, and you froze. “Er, if you come over to my house, I could make you lunch or something. And that way, we don't have to worry about people seeing us.”

You smiled, but your heart went into overdrive at his words. The thought of being alone with him, in his house.

"I mean, only if you want to..." he said, and in his voice, you could sense that he was already thinking you’d refuse. So you turned around and smiled at him.

"That sounds okay." You nodded and Bucky smiled.

"Great." He said, grinning. “See you tomorrow, Miss Y/L/N . Don't be late for class or I may have to call you to stay back once more."

“ I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.” You smirked before getting out of the classroom ignoring the butterflies in your stomach…

[predestinatos]

we so lowkey - OP81

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader (x tiny bit of charles at the beginning)

summary: "the game is called truth or dare for a reason" | 5k words. warnings underneath. MINORS DNI.

tags: smut, sort of stoner!oscar, jealous charles to drive the plot, college student reader, dirty talking.

warnings: drugs (weed), cigarettes, (consensual) unprotected sex, backshots, a lot of dirty talking, oral (male and female receiving), double orgasm.

notes: sorry for the delay, i have been on a writing slump (ignore the fact that this is 5k words long...) and trying to enjoy my last days with my bf before he leaves on erasmus!! but i hope you guys like this one. lmk your thoughts and thank u for ur patience always!

"I am not getting drunk today" you said, putting your foot down. "I can take tipsy, but not drunk" your friend laughed at your comment but nodded in agreement, both of you acknowledging the fact that you had to calm yourselves down now that exams season approached. "It's just a small get together either way" your friend replied, shrugging. your clothes scattered across your clean room, an off-putting contrast you couldn't avoid. "You know a 'small get together' usually means at least 30 people" you applied lipstick in front of your closet mirror as you observed your friend through it. "He's here" your friend whispered as you entered the living room of the dorm room heavily decorated with alcohol and LED lights. She needn't say who she was referring to, for the name sounded forbidden yet that's what made it so enticing. grabbing yourself a drink and glancing around the room, you realized it really was a rather small group. it seemed comprised of around 20 people, the girl to boy ratio very balanced. if you didn't know better, you'd say this was planned. the first sip of alcohol touched your tongue and you swallowed happily, moving slowly to the rhythm of the music along with your friend. "Will you hate me if i leave you for a second?" she asked, lips close to your ear in nervous secrecy. you merely looked at her brown doe eyes and smiled, the best answer you could give her. You were both in college for more than grades - you were there for the full experience. the regrets, the bodies, the hands, the flirting, the waking up with a headache - it was all part of this phenomenal journey that lasted around 3 years, and you'd enjoy every single one of them. so as she left to go talk to someone, you knew you'd be fine. Of course you would, because as if he was waiting, Charles approached you, all strong perfume smell and smug attitude approaching you. "Didn't know you were coming" his eyes look down at you as he remains close but without touching you, daring you to make the first move. "Me neither, or I wouldn't have come" you spat, eyes shotting up at his, expression unchanging and unaffected, almost please with the reply. cocking his head to the side he brought his hand to your chin, stroking it softly yet teasingly. "You were never good at that when it comes to me" he said, clinking his plastic cup against yours, mocking you in a frustrating yet attractive way. you we're supposed to be having fun, fucking around and getting to know how other bodies fit in your bed, yet for the entirety of this year Charles Leclerc had been the one fulfilling that duty. It frustrated you, how you were so addicted to how he felt and made you feel, how the two of you had more than chemistry, creating friction during lectures and letting it all out during the night.

You weren’t exclusive, nor did you discuss feelings – something the both of you appreciated, since this back and forth between you two was pleasurable enough and it had absolutely zero strings attached. Breathing in deeply, you decided to simply strike him back the way you two enjoyed “what can I say, I’m a good actress.”

He exhaled through his nose with a smile that recognized your humor and your momentary win, a ‘touché’ leaving his lips in perfect French, attractive enough to make you take another sip of your drink in order to focus on something else.

Minutes pass with the music blasting and you and Charles going back and forth between dancing and teasing each other, your mutual attraction clear to everyone around. Yet, after a while, the volume lowered as someone announce “truth or dare! Everyone gather in a circle on the floor please!”

Everyone complied – easily so, given the fact that there weren’t that many people in the room, making it extra personal and giving everyone a chance to talk and meet each other, something you didn’t particularly do. After around 2 minutes, everyone sat enthusiastically, talking to each other with slightly lightheaded giddiness that only came after the right amount of drinks. To your left sat your best friend, side eyeing you disapprovingly at the person to your right – Charles. “Way to meet new people” she said, ironically. Pretending to be mad wasn’t her forte, as she laughed slightly at your predictableness and you shrugged, “c’est la vie!”  “And now you’re speak French?”

The host – a beautiful girl with the most amazing curly hair and prettiest eyes you’d ever seen, sat down and clapped her hands, an “alright!” coming out of her exhale. “We will spin this bottle twice: first chooses truth or dare, second gives the truth or dare. Be interesting, please!” she explained, causing everyone to laugh excitedly.

The bottle spun, landing on a boy who you were sure had had a thing for your friend for the longest time. “Dare” he decided as the bottle spun once again, landing on Charles. “I dare you to text ‘I miss you’ to the 6th person in your contacts” he said smuggishly. Everyone ‘oooh’ed as the boy grabbed his phone and searched for said contact. “Fuck-“ he exhaled, frustrated, “it’s my ex.” Charles merely laughed as he said “those are the rules!” nonchalantly placing a hand on your upper thigh without even a glance. Before you could ask, the boy’s voice exclaimed “done!” as he showcased his screen to everyone in a circle, the hand on your thigh disappearing as fast as it arrived.

A couple of rounds went by, you asking one person about their shittiest sexual experience and more drinks being poured as people kissed each other after being dared to, when, around the 9th time, the bottle landed on the dark brown eyed boy you and your friend always found adorable. His name was Oscar, and he usually kept to himself, coming to these get togethers and hanging out with his own friends shyly, occasionally smoking but never getting too drunk or too high. “Truth” he said, his voice deep and sweet like a caress, contrasting with the way he fidgeted nervously in his seat. For the second time, the bottle landed on Charles, who rubbed is hand in a mockingly villainous way. “Oscar… Who in this circle have you had fantasies about?”

Oscar instantaneously blushes, hand running through his hair nervously with a shy smile across his face, revealing an adorable set of teeth that made you smile as well. “Fuck’s sake…” he exhaled softly, before downing his drink quickly in order to provide him with some confidence to reply. “I’m gonna regret this” he repeats, everyone jokingly complaining about the suspense he was creating. “I’m sorry in advance, Charles” he exclaims, before his arm lifts towards you and your eyes cross. Still bushing but with a darker expression, almost as if reviewing some thoughts he had, his gaze pierced yours making you feel as if he could show you his own thoughts. Everyone ‘oooo’ed once again, clapping and drinking, despite Charles’ body tensing slightly as he said “sorry for what?”

Oscar merely shrugged, “for anything”, an apologetic smile showing up, one you couldn’t ignore.

The game lasted only a few more rounds until the small crowd distracted themselves with each other, getting up to get more drinks and not returning due to slightly drunk forgetfulness. However, even that small amount of time was enough to feel the palpable tension whenever Oscar’s eyes crossed yours, a quick glance away and joke throwing making you almost believe like you had imagined everything. His nonchalant persona combined with the knowledge that he had thought of you in other contexts drew you in, the same way your instant shyness and inability to look away only intensified his desires.

The boy next to you, however, was tenser than you had ever seen him, despite his great attempts at hiding it. Even before you could confront him about it, Charles’ excused himself, claiming that he had an exam first thing in the morning. Eyebrows furrowed, you knew that wasn’t true, but he merely kissed your cheek goodbye and closed the door behind you.

You were frustrated. In more ways than one, your body still very much coherent to take things lightly and carefree. Your leg shook up and down nervously as your best friend sat next to you in a couch, talking to an attractive girl she had her eyes on for a while. Tapping her shoulder lightly, you motioned the ‘gonna smoke’ sign with your hands, to which she smiled in recognition.

Opening the closest window to the balcony that oversaw the city, cold air hitting your lungs, you let your back hit the wall and let out a much needed breath. Grabbing a cigarette, you placed it between your lips as you searched for your lighter, the closeness of the relief imminent in your veins. The technicolor lights shone bright, cars moving like fireflies dancing to the rhythm of the song.

It was white noise that calmed you, the muffled sound of the music restarting in the house as you took more drags of your cigarette. You were so immersed in the sheer act, as if it was a meditation technique, that you barely noticed the light brown haired boy opening and closing the window, placing himself next to you, with a respectable distance between your bodies.

“Have some light?” he asked, and you jumped at the sound of his voice, the realization he was there. You nodded and handed him your lighter, and he thanked you as he lit up a perfectly wrapped blunt. “Sorry, by the way” he exhaled, along with the smoke that got out of his mouth, eyes roaming through the landscape in front.

“No problem, I get startled easily” you replied, admiring his side profile. His features were both hard and soft, eyes shining brightly in such a relaxed expression it mesmerized you, the way he let out a soft chuckle at your response. “I’m not apologizing for that,” he started, filling his lungs once again. “I’m apologizing for earlier.”

This time, he turned his head towards you, and you noticed his flushed cheeks, slight embarrassment still showing even as his body and mind relaxed. “For saying you fantasize about me or for saying sorry to Charles?” you asked, daringly. It had offended you, hurt you, even, that he had apologized to Charles as if the guy owned you, as if that answer needed to pass some sort of approval from him before becoming valid.

Oscar merely shrugged, “both, I suppose.” His eyes seemed a bit sleepier already as they rather shamelessly roamed your body, followed by his head resting against the wall as he looked up. You felt the tension, electrifying both your bodies already, shivers invading your body – maybe from the cold, maybe from the sheer presence of his indifferent frame.

“Was it true?” the question hung the air for a few seconds after it left your lips, your cigarette now almost over. “Depends on if you want it to be true or not,” a dazed giggle mixed between his words.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t” you crossed your arms in front of your chest after putting out your cigarette in the ashtray next to the balcony. His gaze turned to yours, lowering towards your chest before moving back to your eyes. “The game is called truth or dare for a reason” he answered, leaning sideways against the wall so he could look at you fully.

You rolled your eyes at his sarcasm, though you couldn’t deny how attracted you were to how he played out this nonchalant persona, the indifference contrasting with his words making your body burn.

 “And that,” he started, the hand holding the blunt pointing towards you, in a upwards and downwards movement. “That’s exactly why I have them.” Confusion invaded your mind as you failed to understand what his words meant, although his brown eyes remained on you as if revisiting every thought he ever had. “What?”

“You’re a tease without even realizing it,” he started, closing the distance between you a bit more, eyes glued to your lips as if fighting the urge to kiss you. “Describe them for me” you whispered, using your closeness to your advantage.

“How about I show you?” he whispered back, breath hot against your ear as his index finger ran along the exposed skin of your neck. Though you tensed, feeling your entire body respond to his suggestion, mouth watering, you wanted to play a bit more.

“What about ‘sorry, Charles’?” you mouthed, irony laced all over your smirk as you looked up at him lustfully. Oscar’s gaze scans the inside of the apartment quickly, more figuratively than literally, before turning back to you. “I don’t see him here now, do you?”

His index finger brushed your chin, forcing your gaze towards yours once more. “If I were him I would’ve made sure you only craved me.”

“How?” your voice was hoarse and breathy, your thighs slowly clenching at the need for touch. “Let’s just say my name would be the only thing you’d be able to utter.”

Your eyebrows raised and your breath got stuck in your throat as his lips brushed against you. You felt almost embarrassed at the effect his words and demeanor had on you, requiring little to no touch to get a reaction out of your entire body. This was not the Oscar Piastri you knew from a couple of shared classes, who sat at the back and always left first, who remained in his own zone at parties, interacting with a couple of closest friends. The fact that he was showing a more daring, direct and sexual attitude towards you felt like a compliment, exclusivity being silently attributed to you.

“Didn’t take you for such a fuckboy” you commented, almost as if making sure that this wasn’t actual his usual move, something everybody knew but didn’t talk about, a party trick he commonly used. He chuckled slightly, so close to you that you could see his throat bobbing up and down in though and feel his scent – some very light perfume that faded slightly due to the smell of the joint he was now finishing. “And I’m not,” he smiled, “I just know what I want. And I’ve been wanting you for so fucking long…” he trailed off, his eyes scanning every inch of you with lust, dropping to your lips for a few seconds longer than anywhere else, before returning to your eyes.

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, ravenous and hungry for you. Your hands were on his soft hair, tugging it ever so slightly as his tongue teased yours and his breathing increased. Gripping your waist, Oscar pinned you against the balcony wall, the people on the other side of it disappearing from both of your minds as soon as you touched. His kissed matched him so well – so careless yet not aggressive nor bad, just confident and slow paced, as if possessing all the time in the world to enjoy every part of you. You couldn’t help but moan at the novelty of it, how different he was, how his touch left your body burning with freezing need for more.

His lips curved into a smile upon hearing you, an aroused gleefulness displayed in between kisses, fueling an ever growing necessity inside both of you. One of his hands rose to your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek sweetly, that touch so opposite from his grip that claimed you as his for a moment.

As soon as that moment came, it went away, his face distancing from yours, one of his hands attempting to fix the mess you had made of his hair. “I need you so bad right now” he whispered, cursing to himself at the loss of composure he ensured he had built. You merely stared at his disheveled look, frustrated desire written across his body as his brown eyes seemed to darken as time went by. You did not dare to speak, afraid no words would come out, brain foggy from sharing the absolute same wish as his: to continue what you started, to finish it completely.

“My dorm room is literally right above this one” he said after a few seconds, steading his breath in order to seem calmer, more relaxed and casual about the clear tension between you. You knew what he meant and knew he wouldn’t be elaborating any further. Knew he would simply go to his room and wait, watching tv as if you showing up – or not – wouldn’t influence much of his night. Like whatever was happening wasn’t happening, like he didn’t just say he needed you.

You replied with a nod as he opened the door and climbed inside, knowing that when you entered that kitchen he wouldn’t be there anymore. You waited a few more minutes, smoking another cigarette as you considered your options, tried to clear your head and think rationally, yet it was hard as every part of your body ached for more of him, your legs weak just from the kiss you shared on the balcony. Finishig your smoke, you climbed inside the kitchen, where people remained unaware of what happened outside, as if you belonged to two different channels that now intertwined.

You searched for your best friend, wanting to let her know where you were going, reassuring that she needn’t worry but that you’d be just one floor above in case she needed something. Finding her was harder than you thought, minutes passing with you growing more nervous at the prospect of Oscar having given up on you, thinking you had done the same with him. Had he more options? Was he this open with every woman he found attractive? These thoughts clouded your mind as your eyes crossed with your best friend’s and she ran towards you. Tipsy, but not drunk. Good. You both filled each other in on what you had missed during the short time you weren’t next to each other, promising to be close if any of you were in need. Her good luck wink gave you all the approval you needed to leave that dorm room and head towards the upper floor.

The floor vibrated with the music underneath – Oscar wasn’t lying when he said it his room was right above – every beat pulsating with energy that matched your own beating heart. Your nervous hands knocked on the door, your mind too aware of your stance, wondering what would be considered normal in a situation like this. But all those thoughts evaporated your mind as the door opened and you were greeted with the mesmerizing view of the boy you had just made out with.

His hair was slightly damp, indicating that he had taken a shower, or was in the middle of one, as you noticed some droplets running across his smooth skin and a towel lazily wrapped around his hips. You felt hypnotized by his slight smirk and unpreoccupied appearance as he step aside to let you in. “Was starting to think you wouldn’t come” he commented as he pointed towards the sofa in the middle of the apartment, sitting casually next to you. “Hence the look” he continued, giggling slightly.

You were too aware of how naked he was and how little he seemed to care about it. He kept a comfortable distance between you, as if allowing you to stand up and leave were you to change your mind. But that wasn’t even an option to you as his eyes landed on your lips, lingering in there before he gently shook his head and looked up at the ceiling. “God, you have me wrapped around your finger” his tone was half joke, half truth, as if he couldn’t believe it himself, how you seemed to so effortlessly produce such an effect on him.

“Well, I was promised something” you shrugged teasingly, your confidence growing as you realized how much he craved you, how this was something he actually wanted for a while. With your comment, his eyes shot back to you, and his body quickly followed, hovering above yours, droplets of water falling delicately on your face as he looked down at you, hands placed on each side of your head. You couldn’t help but bite your lip hungrily, crossing your legs tightly trying to relieve some of the need you were feeling.

Oscar’s eyes remained on your face as he stopped your legs with his own. “No” he whispered with assertion. “You want me to show you want I imagine doing to you, then you’ll have to play your part and look pretty while at it.”

You were shocked at his words and actions and how they affected you, making it so the only thing you could do in response was nod. Your eyes wanted to wander to where the towel threatened to unwrap himself, but Oscar’s soft finger lifted your chin towards him. “Eyes on me” despite it being a command, his voice indicated anything but that. It was calm and reassuring, confident but not cocky.

His thumb grazed across your lower lip, fondling it gently before opening your mouth subtly. He inserted his index and middle finger inside your mouth, pushing smoothly against your tongue. You took it upon yourself to wrap your lips around them, sucking on them, your tongue playing with his skin as you maintained eye contact. “Fuck” he cursed, muscles trembling from trying to keep his position and composure.

After some seconds, he removed his fingers from your mouth, replacing them with his own lips, hungrily possessing you. As he did this, causing your brain to go lightheaded and register little to nothing at all apart from his touch and tongue caressing you, his hand slid down your exposed stomach to the inside of your jeans. Your arms were around his neck, trying to pull him closer despite the impossibility of it – but you needed more. More of him, of his touch and of his body on yours.

His finger caressed your clit softly, satisfying your needs in part, but simultaneously leaving you more frustrated. You couldn’t help but whimper, trying to grind against his teasing hand, hips moving almost instinctively, which caused a sensuous chuckle to leaving his lips. “You sound even better than what I imagined,” his finger dipped lowered towards your entrance, teasing it, playing with your own desperate hunger. “And you’re wetter, too.”

You moaned at his words, and despair invaded your brain, your hands rushing to unbutton your pants and giving Oscar all the liberty of movement, a silent plea for the feeling of him inside you. Your walls clenched around nothing when he pulled your top up, revealing your exposed breasts. His eyes lingered on them as he tasted you, placing his fingers in his mouth while his other hand removed the towel from around his waist.

Finally, you thought, throwing your own jeans on the floor, red lace panties covering little to nothing of the lower half of your body.

His erection sprang free as he dropped the towel as well, the tip glistening with pre cum, its entire length throbbing. His hand wrapped around it as he took the entire sight of you in, eyelids revealing a drunken thrill as his breath became more irregular.

“I thought about this so many fucking times” he started, not with longing but with a primal urge to have you, a matter-of-fact tone in his voice that caused your whole body to erupt in need. “Come here”

Oscar positioned himself on his knees at the edge of the couch, continuously stoking himself as you moved towards him on all fours, not daring to look away from the sheer sight of him. Pulling your hair, he directed your face towards his erection, pressing it against your lips. You opened your mouth and enveloped him slowly, savoring the salty taste of him as your tongue explored his length. Each one of your caresses made him groan and sigh in pleasure, your head bobbing up and down underneath him.

The sight of you was beautifully overwhelming to him, especially as you started grinding your hips against nothing at all. “Fuck, if I knew you wanted it this bad I would… I would’ve done this earlier” he struggled to say, mesmerized at how your eyes looked up at him, ecstasy-filled.

You moaned against his cock, vibrations traveling throughout his body as he jerked his hips up, deeper into you, more than what you thought possible. You teared up with the suddenness of it, though it made you dizzy with pleasure.

That pleasure was short-ended as his hand pulled your hair softly, an indication for you to stop. As he removed himself from inside your mouth, a string of saliva connected you both, your lips now swollen and red, shiny with spit.

Oscar lowered himself in order to kiss you while laying you on the sofa once again, his mouth leaving wet marks all over your body until it reached the area underneath your bellybutton. He blew softly on your skin, and goosebumps invaded your body as he pulled your underwear down and off of you, hands now placed around your thighs, opening them with fervor. Before you could register the coldness hitting your now exposed skin, his face buried in between your legs, licking you softly as his damp hair touched the skin on your thighs.

The warmth of his mouth contrasted with his still-wet hair, your mind clouded by wanting to wrap your legs around him and the instinct to pull away from the cold. He grinned against your wet pussy before sucking your clit, your hands flying towards his hair, pushing him against you.

“So needy…” he whispered, readjusting himself so he could bury two fingers into you and keep his attention on your clit, devouring you. His tongue sent your body into frenzied shivers, his name escaping your lips incoherently. His fingers intensified their pace, sliding in and out of you and curling inside you. “Fuck, you taste so good” he mumbled, “and my name sounds so good when you whimper it” he now looked at you intently, analyzing your pleasure with so much attention it almost made you blush – were your cheeks not red due to the heat of the desire. It was all so much, so much you couldn’t focus on it all, your body erupting into an orgasm, walls pulsating around his fingers, his gaze adoring your body and all of its movements.

Your chest rose and fell almost as fast as your heart beat, and you giggled, actually giggled, from how lightheaded you felt. “I need to see and hear that again” he stared, more than asked you, although he remained in place, only his hand slowly pulling out from inside you, covered in your juices. He wasted no time in wrapping it around his own erection, now even more visibly hungry for something – someone. You.

“Please” he pleaded, suddenly looking so greedy, so needy and desperate. For some reason, this reignited the desire within you, and although your body was still recovering from the intoxicating orgasm, you were ready to do it all again.

“Do I keep going in your fantasy?” you asked, voice hoarse and breathy. His eyes widened slightly, the pace of his movement as he worked himself up increased as he nodded. “Then why are you asking me?” you told him, the fact that you consented implicit in your tone, your legs spreading apart for him to gawk at.

He barely needed two seconds before positioning himself between your legs once again, the tip of his cock rubbing against your entrance. “You’re soaking” he tried saying, stumbling across some vowels due to his own excitement. “I don’t know if I can last much” he slowly entered you, savoring as every inch buried deeper inside you, “you drive me fucking crazy.”

Your eyes rolled the back of your head at how he filled you up, at his praise as he did so, at how good he sounded when incoherence and pleasure laced his words. His hips moved, at first in a slow, consistent, pace, which quickly changed after some seconds, along with his breathing.

His eyebrows furrowed as your nails dug into his back, the sudden pain feeling so thrilling when mixed with the pleasure of being inside you. “Turn around” he said, pulling himself out of you for less than a second, giving you only time to lay on your stomach with your ass in the air.

That position allowed for him to go even deeper inside you, to hear you scream in pleasure as your own hand touched your clit in desperate need for more release. “You like that?” he asked in between breaths, knowing he could barely hold it any longer.

You tried saying the word ‘yes’ but even that failed you, your vision cloudy and your head foggy as you felt him close to release. His moans increased in loudness and intensity, your name being one of the few coherent things he could say before pulling himself out of you and orgasming, his cum spread across your back.

You couldn’t do anything but succumb to your own pleasure erratically, the simultaneous nature of your orgasms driving you into your own craziness.

Your body collapsed on the couch as his pressed tightly against you, both of you trying to gather your thoughts. Lying on his back, his head now looking at the ceiling, Oscar turned to you softly. “Want to sleep over?”

Your plan was not going to work.

[fluentmoviequoter]

April Fools In Love

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: When Angela convinces you to prank Tim by pretending to leave him on April 1, you plan to get through the day quietly and then split your winnings with Tim. Then Wade assigns you and Tim to ride together, and the day is anything except quiet.

Warnings: discussion of bets (Angela and Nolan start it lol), angst, arguments, gunfire (no major character injuries), fluff

Word Count: 3.1k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

You know it won’t end well. But when Angela and Nolan bet you $100 each that you wouldn’t do it, what were you supposed to do? Say no? Besides, if it works (and you’re terrified it will), you and Tim will have over $1,000 to split. You just have to break his heart first.

When Tim gets out of bed before the sun comes up, you’re already awake. It seems like forever as you lay in bed and wait for him to leave. But, while you’re alone in the house and preparing to pull off the biggest April Fool’s Day prank of your life, you miss him. Angela’s genius idea to prank Tim by pretending to leave him was never a good idea but as the betting pool grew in the Mid-Wilshire station, you let the money convince you. Your heart and Tim’s are on the line, and you can only hope he knows you well enough by now to see what you’re doing and play along.

Once all your belongings are hidden in the spare closet and every trace of you is gone from Tim’s house, you leave a note on Tim’s nightstand and leave. You intend on returning, as long as Tim will let you by the end of the day. It was Nolan and Lucy’s idea to send you to Lucy’s apartment at the end of shift, the proverbial “cherry on top” to convince Tim that your relationship is truly over. As you walk to your car, anxiety builds in you, and you consider backing out. It would cost money but save your sanity and your relationship. So, you only have one question: What would Tim do? The answer comes to you immediately: lie to the bet makers and win even if you lose. Now, you just have to figure out how.

Entering roll call is everything you expected it would be. There are countless eyes on you, and your lack of greeting is what Nolan needs to know you’re going through with it.

“Honestly, I didn’t think you’d do it,” he whispers from behind you. “No offense.”

“That is the least offensive thing you’ve ever said to me,” you answer quickly. “But just remember that you have to ride with me tomorrow, and anything that happens to me today is your fault.”

Nolan’s eyes widen before you turn in your seat. Breaking Tim’s heart will hurt, but yours is already fractured just from the idea. When Grey enters and gives assignments for the day, you hope that work will distract you for as long as possible. If Tim doesn’t find out until he gets off, you only have to lie to him and avoid him for a few hours before the day ends.

Wade says your name and the smile on his face concerns you. You take a deep breath before asking, “Yes, sir?”

“Bradford needs someone to ride with him today. Now, you can say no.”

You open your mouth to say no, but he raises a hand to stop you.

“Or,” Wade continues. “We can double the current pool if you say yes.”

“Double?” you repeat incredulously. “That’s-“

“Over three thousand dollars. At the moment.”

You stare at the board behind Wade before nodding. “Okay.”

The room erupts into cheers and yells, but you drop your head into your hands and ask yourself why you’re selling your heart for a few thousand dollars.

“Bradford’s waiting,” Wade says as the room silences again.

“I hate all of you,” you mumble as you exit.

“Yet you seem interested in our money!” Lucy calls behind you. “See you at home later!”

Tim is waiting by the war room, and he smiles when he sees you. You don’t return the smile, not because you’re mad at him, but because you’re worried about everything.

“Are you okay?” he asks as you approach him.

You nod, but Tim doesn’t move. “Can we go?” you ask.

Tim’s smile drops as he nods. You lead the way to the shop, and Tim’s eyes are on you the entire way. Once you’re in the car and all the cameras are on, you hope he’ll stop talking and leave everything alone, but you also know that won’t happen.

“Why are you out on patrol?” you ask.

“Looking for leads on a gun trafficking case. We’ve got a few buyers who either don’t know or won’t tell who’s running the operation,” Tim answers.

You hum and look out the windshield. The computer on the dashboard has a few possible suspects, and you keep an eye open for them. Los Angeles is big, so finding three low-level gun sellers (alleged gun sellers) won’t be particularly easy. The long day alone with Tim would be a reward any other day, but not today.

Lucy’s voice comes through the radio as she says your name. You reach for the channel to change it, but Tim’s brows furrow, and you stop.

“Are you sure about this?” Lucy asks. “I mean, of course, you’re welcome to stay with me, but maybe you should just talk to Tim.”

“About what?” Tim asks you.

“Nothing,” you answer quickly. It comes out short and harsh, and you decide to take your anger out on Lucy. “No personal lives on the radio, Chen,” you demand.

“I agree,” Wade adds. “But no one wants to see either of you hurt. You’re with Bradford all day, just talk to him.”

“I don’t have to because he can hear you,” you snap before switching the channel.

Tim drives a few blocks in silence. He glances over at you every time he has to stop.

“Are you going to ignore me all day?” Tim asks. “Because I can go back to the station and get someone else to come with me.”

“Your choice,” you reply.

“Okay,” Tim says. His hands grip the steering wheel tighter. “Are you staying with Lucy tonight?”

“I’m not talking about this right now, Sergeant Bradford. You are my superior and this doesn't seem appropriate,” you say.

Tim knows something is wrong; you won’t look at him, and your answers aren’t really answers. He pulls into an alley and switches off his body cam and the dash cam.

“Dispatch this is Bradford, switching radio off to approach the suspect. Will advise,” he radios.

“Copy, Bradford.”

Tim gestures toward your body cam, and you ask, “Why?”

He rolls his eyes and reaches across the console to pull the cam away from your chest. His hands are gentle on you, but he tosses the camera haphazardly onto the dash after switching it off.

“No cameras, no radios,” Tim says. “Now what is your problem?”

“Yeah, because I’m the one with a problem,” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. “We’re supposed to be working, Tim. Drive.”

“Not until you tell me why you’re snapping at everyone. Being grumpy is kind of my thing.”

“Clearly,” you say with a chuckle.

“If you’re mad at me, just say it.”

“This is not the place or the time.”

“So, I’m just supposed to deal with this attitude all day?”

“I deal with yours.”

Tim rolls his eyes and leans back in his seat.

“I’m not staying with Lucy tonight. I’m staying with her until I can find my own place, so you don’t have to deal with my attitude for much longer.”

Tim’s jaw unclenches as he looks at you. You’re looking down at your lap, but you can feel his eyes on you.

“What does that mean?” Tim asks quietly. His anger is gone; it disappeared when you said you weren’t going home with him... to him.

“I can’t keep doing this, Tim.” I can’t keep lying to you, is what you mean.

“Then don’t.” You shake your head, and Tim presses, “Don’t do this. Whatever happened, we can work through it, right?”

“Not right now.”

Tim falls silent and tears his eyes away from you. He can’t decide whether to be upset or angry, but he turns all of the cameras back on and shifts the car into reverse to back out of the alley. You snatch your body cam from the dash and put it back on, but you miss the feeling of Tim’s hands.

“If not now, when?” Tim asks as he stops at a red light.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “Report.”

Tim glances over at you quickly, and when you move your fingers toward the radio, he realizes you’re talking to him as a cop, not as someone who loves him.

“Dispatch, I’m code 4,” he says quickly.

As you continue driving around Los Angeles, the minutes stretch into hours. Tim has stopped talking to you, and the radio has been quiet. Your fingers bounce against your thigh in rapid succession, and if something doesn’t happen soon, you may burst into tears and tell Tim everything.

“Bradford,” Angela radios, “switch to a private channel.”

He does, but when he pulls the radio to him, his movements make you flinch. “What?” he asks, his grumpiness returned in full.

“Are you alone?”

“No.”

“Okay, good.”

You hold your breath as you wait to hear what Angela will say next.

“We got a hit on one of your perps. Was seen near a cigar store somewhere off La Brea.”

“That’s not helpful, Lopez,” Tim snaps. “Anything else you can give me?”

“The Debonair Cigar Lounge,” you inform. “It’s on La Brea and there’s tons of reports of illegal back door sales. Nothing we’ve ever been able to prove.”

Tim nods and drops the radio.

“You seem in high spirits,” Lopez adds. “Your captain is waiting for your report.”

“10-4,” you radio.

✯✯✯✯✯

After a waste of time at the cigar lounge, you and Tim follow several more tips. The sun is going down and Tim’s shift is nearly over by the time you catch one that seems helpful.

“Don’t you need to get back to the station?” you ask. “We don’t have time to track this and for you to report to your captain.”

Tim ignores you and pulls into another alley. Why does LA have so many dirty alleys? And why are they Tim’s preferred argument location?

“You said it earlier, I’m your superior. If you’re not going to answer my questions, I’m not going to accept your advice,” Tim explains.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you argue. “Me not wanting to talk about our relationship issues in the shop is not the same as reminding you that you have other duties.”

“Oh, now they’re relationship issues. That sounds like talking about them.”

You tip your head back against the seat and sigh. Something moves in the alley, and you lean forward to watch for it.

“Just tell me what is bothering you!” Tim says. You don’t answer, too interested in what is or isn’t moving in the shadows, but Tim takes it as you voluntarily ignoring him. “Fine, you don’t want to talk? I can wait.”

“Bradford, drive,” you say quickly. 

“No.”

“Tim!” you yell.

The worry in your voice causes Tim to look forward, and the man you’ve spent the day looking for is standing in the middle of the alley and pointing a gun at you.

“Get down,” Tim demands.

You lean toward him over the console as he jerks the gear shift down. Before he can move, the man starts shooting. Tim leans over you as he backs out of the alley. While he gets you to safety, you radio for backup. The car slides to a graceless stop as a bullet takes out the front tire on your side.

“I’m going to Lucy’s because I can’t stay with you tonight,” you admit.

Your voice is raised over the continued gunfire, but Tim’s face is pressed beside yours as he drapes his body over you. His protectiveness is one of many things that you love about him, and as you prepare to tell him the truth, you’re more grateful for it than ever.

“You’re leaving me?” Tim asks.

“Tim, what day is it?” you ask.

A bullet breaks your window, and Tim pulls himself tighter against you as he raises his gun toward the opening. The man is nearing you, and Tim waits for him to get close enough before rising up so he’s visible.

“April Fools,” Tim answers as he fires a single shot.

He leaves you alone in the shop as he runs to the downed gunman. The bullet hit his leg, far from fatal, and Tim cuffs him before putting pressure on the wound.

“I can’t believe you just broke up with me while we were being shot at,” Tim yells angrily.

He winks at you quickly, a nearly invisible movement. His jaw remains clenched, though, and you can’t tell if he’s mad at you or the man who tried to kill you.

“Bradford!” Angela yells as she exits her car. “What happened?”

Tim pushes the man toward another Metro officer and turns away from you.

“Plenty,” he answers before walking away. “Give her a ride.”

You lick your lips as you watch Tim leave with Metro. 

“You told him?” Angela asks. “How did that go?”

“He seems mad,” you answer.

“This may be better than expected. I’m taking you to Lucy’s.”

“But I need to-“

“Grey knows,” Angela interrupts. “Let’s go.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Just sit down,” Lucy pleads. “Tim cares and he’ll talk to you eventually.”

“I told Tim that I was leaving him when all I wanted to do was tell him I love him,” you point out. “I’m not going to sit down.”

Lucy sighs and turns away. She had enjoyed the idea before this moment, but now that you and Tim are both understandably miserable, it isn’t as much fun.

“Incoming,” Tamara whispers dramatically as she opens the door.

“Where’s your stuff?” Tim demands as he steps inside.

“Not with me,” you answer honestly.

“Then let’s go.”

“Where?”

Tim fixes his eyes on yours. There’s a storm in them, and it’s a dangerous one. You decide not to fight him and instead walk toward him.

“Hey, you can talk here,” Lucy offers.

Tim doesn’t reply as he closes the door behind him. You walk wordlessly beside him as he takes you to his truck. Once you’re inside, he runs his fingers through his short hair before hitting his open palm against the steering wheel.

“I know you pointed out that it’s April Fool’s Day,” he begins. “But when I get home and all of your stuff is gone, it’s a little hard to believe it’s a joke.”

You glance at the clock and see that there’s still a little over an hour left until midnight. If you want the money, you can’t do anything until then.

“I put it somewhere,” you say quietly. “Until I knew for sure what I was going to do.”

“Are you going to give me a real answer?”

You look at the clock again, but this time Tim follows your movement. He sits back in his seat and turns on the radio.

“I’ll wait,” he offers.

“Why?” you ask. “After everything I did this morning?”

“Lots of words for it: love, stupidity, obsession. Take your pick.”

“April Fool’s Day was more fun last year,” you mutter.

Tim smiles as he remembers; you had tried to convince everyone in Mid-Wilshire that you and Tim hated one another and that any memory that had otherwise was a figment of their imagination. When you got home that night, Tim kept up the act until you threatened to take Kojo in the divorce, and then you got the attention you’d been missing all day.

As the clock inches closer to midnight, you lean back as well and simply sit beside Tim. Your phone rings and you sigh when you see Angela’s name.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Where are you?” she asks.

“Outside Lucy’s apartment.”

“Is Tim still with you?”

“Why would Tim be with me?”

Tim shakes his head beside you, and you remember when he told you about the bet with Lucy when she tried to set him up and failed. You met the next day and then Tim won the bet, he had said.

“Are you planning to call him at midnight?” she asks.

“Yes! I have been lying to him all day, Angela, of course I’m going to call and tell him.”

Angela sighs, but it sounds funny.

“What?”

“He blew up on his Metro team. There’s a chance he may not be able to forgive you, or… won’t want to.”

You glance over at Tim, and he cocks his head at your furrowed brows.

“So, he’s really mad,” you repeat softly. “And my apologies won’t be good enough.”

“I don’t know that for sure!” Angela soothes.

What actually works to make you feel better is Tim’s hand taking yours. The clock changes, and you hang up. 12:00 am, April 2. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper.

The fear you’ve been pushing down all day appears as tears, and Tim cups your face to wipe them away.

“My stuff is in the guest room, but if you don’t want me to come back-“

Tim cuts you off with a kiss. He pulls you toward him as he leans over the console, but it’s uncomfortable, and he breaks the kiss quickly.

“Please tell me you won something for your success,” Tim says.

You smile and answer, “Nearly three and a half thousand dollars.”

Tim’s jaw drops as his hands drop to your shoulders.

“I was thinking we’d go see a Dodgers game, sit behind home plate. Or you can have it all since I did ruin your day.”

“Watching you get shot at ruined my day,” Tim corrects. “But as long as you go home with me, no harm, no foul.”

“I really am sorry. I do love you, and I’d never leave you like that.”

“I know,” Tim answers smugly. “I stopped by the house after you left, and Kojo led me straight to your stuff.

“You knew the whole time?!” you exclaim.

“I had an idea. Asked Grey to let me spend the day with you to see if I was right.”

“I felt terrible-“

“And you should have! Kojo and I will need lots of hugs and kisses to make up for the emotional distraught you put us through.”

You roll your eyes, and once you’re sandwiched between Tim and Kojo, they don’t seem to accept your apologies unless they’re punctuated with some type of physical affection. Tim also takes the opportunity to yell at everyone involved in the bet when he gets to work the following morning, but the promise of another night and a Dodgers game with you makes it worth it.

[miniy00ng1]

Not Yours pt.2

Five Hargreeves x Female!Reader

wc: 2239 (not proofread yet!)

warnings: swearing, fighting, lmk if i missed anything

find part one here my masterlist here

Hi lovelies! While writing I realized that this was going to be more than two parts like i had originally thought it would be. but regardless i hope you enjoy and don't forget to give me feedback! pls ignore and grammar errors! thank you <3

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

“Welcome mi familia to my home away from home. My dearest Hotel Obsidian.” Klaus introduces, arms spread wide and breathing in the musty glory of the hotel. “Oh how I’ve missed her. Lookie who’s here! Mon frère Chet! How are you? We need your finest rooms good sir!” Chet places a sign on the table cash up front. The group of super siblings empty their pockets managing to gather enough for two rooms. 

“So what’s our next move you guys? Because the Sparrows can attack at any given moment. I know I would.” Diego asks, anxious to kick some more ass. Luther turns towards Diego, placing his hands on his shoulders, “Diego, just relax man. They’re not coming, they’re going to need a couple of days to recover with the way we left them.” “You really think so?” Diego asks hopefully, at this moment you peek around Luther’s body into Diego’s view and shake you head, sliding you thumb slowly across your neck. Five notices you trying to rile Diego up and drags you to the elevator.

“First, I get kidnapped. And now I have to bunk in the boys room. Just kill me now.” Y/N complains as she is forced into the room being shared between four men. “You can complain all you want Y/N, but I have to keep an eye on you, so deal with it.” Five huffs taking a seat on the lower bunk bed. You roll your eyes, “There are only four beds in here dipshit and five of us. Where the hell am I supposed to sleep?” Five smirks at you, putting his hands behind his head and fully reclining on the bed as you make a gagging sound.

The other three brothers enter the room shortly after and begin to discuss how there are now other versions of themselves out in the world. Your curiosity gets the best of you, “What was you guys’ version of me like? Everyone seems to like her so much better, she couldn’t have been that great.” The men all speak at once listing all of the good qualities other you had such as her kindness, or her mindfulness, or her hopefulness. You jokingly smile extra big and say, “Doesn’t she just sound like a ray of sunshine.” The rest of the night is uneventful as everyone is exhausted from the events that occurred earlier. 

That night, you end up taking the bottom bunk and Five sleeps on the floor next to it. The morning sun shines directly into eyes, disturbing your slumber. As you wake up and try to adjust your eyes, you feel a pressure on your hand. Lifting your head from the pillow, you glance over the edge of the bed and see a slumbering Five holding your hand–warmth spreads across your face. You quickly snatch your hand out of his grip, startling Five awake, he immediately scans the room for any threats. Five furrows his eyebrows once he makes eyes contact with you. No words are exchanged between the two of you as you get out of the bed and head towards the bathroom down the hall.

While freshening up in the bathroom, Y/N takes note of everyone in the restroom. There’s an elderly lady, a woman in her late 40s that looks like she’s done every drug on planet earth–twice, and a tan woman with a young boy standing behind her. The woman stares at you as if you’re familiar with one another. “What the hell are you looking at lady?” You says while drying your hands. The woman laughs in disbelief, “No fucking way.” You raise your eyebrows at the lady and exit the communal bathroom, startled to find Five dressed in a suit and waiting for you. “This entire hotel is full of freaks.”

The two of you take a seat at the table joining Klaus and Diego. The table covered in boxes of Chinese takeout, Five hands you a container and chopsticks, “Eat up, you must be starving.” You nod your head as a thank you and dig into the noodles. The siblings discuss their next course of action, if they have to fight the Sparrows to get the briefcase back or stay in the timeline. Across from you, something has caught Diego’s eye as he abruptly drops his food and rushes away from the table. You turn your body to see where he’s run off to and see Diego chasing the woman from the bathroom.

Diego returns to his seat five minutes later wih a young boy who claims to be his son. Not a single one of the Hargreeves at the table question the legitimacy of the relation. “So if you’re his dad..Is that blonde lady his mom?” You question, not seeing the resemblance at all. Diego nods in confirmation, “She claims he’s my son and that lady, is Lila. You two have met, she tried to murder us like two days ago.” “Two things Buddy. One, I am not your Y/N. And two, you’re an idiot. No wonder she tried to kill you.” You say, piecing the missing information together.

A short haired Vanya approaches the siblings. “Wow Vanya! I am loving the haircut! It really suits you!” Klaus calls out, admiring the new style. “Oh, it’s actually Viktor.” Viktor says awkwardly. The brothers glance at each other before Diego speaks up, “Who is?” “I am, always have been.” Viktor confirms. “Does anybody have a problem with that?” Everyone at the table shakes their head no and congratulates Viktor. “Look, I met with Marcus last night he agreed to give us the briefcase in exchange for Y/N. He says he doesn’t want to start a war.” You sit up straight at the mention of the trade.

Five’s face hardens at Viktor’s statement, “Absolutely not Viktor. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but this timeline in perfectly acceptable, there are no apocalypses or psychopaths coming after us. And last time I checked, you don’t speak for this family. There won’t be any unnecessary trades. Especially not if they include Y/N.” “You’re wrong Five. We don’t belong here. Allison is miserable, her own daughter doesn’t exist and you’re holding Y/N hostage just because she looks like your Y/N!” Viktor argues back. Five seethes in Viktor’s face, “I said no.” Five drags you off the chair forcing you to follow him. You hear footsteps chase after the two of you, “Five! Five wait up!” Five stops, still holding onto your wrist as Klaus catches up. “You two sure move quick for such little legs. Anywho…how would you two like to join me on a little roadtrip? We can relax and cruise the open road, it’ll be a grand ole time!” Five agrees to go with Klaus against your wishes.

Leaning against the car, you scan Five’s figure, “Like what you see?” Five says cockily, smiling at you. “That is the ugliest outfit I have ever seen. Genuinely, you should burn that for the sake of everyone else. And take that stupid hat off, you’re embarassing me. What did I ever see in you.” Five’s smile drops but before he can make a rebuttal Klaus skips over towards the car, “Let’s go bitches! This is going to be so much fun!” It was not fun by any means. Thirty minutes into the drive, Klaus and Five start arguing due to the fact that Klaus tricked Five into coming to meet his birth mother because he was scared to do it alone. 

“You were scared? So you brought me along like an emotional support schnauzer?” “I would say you’re more like a little cute, feisty chihuahua.” You say mindlessly. Five turns and glares at you, you’re certain he’s picturing murdering you in his mind. The fighting goes on for a little longer before the boys make up at the big ball of twine. Soon enough, you guys arrive at a farm where Klaus’ mother is supposedly living. Five tells Klaus that this is something he has to face alone and that he’ll stay with the car. 

Five moves the car to the side of the road and turns on a radio station playing songs from the 60s. He then exits the car just to open the rear door, “Scoot over, I want to stretch out my legs and do my crossword.” “You are such an old man. I don’t know how I could be into that.” You say while scooting over to make room for the teen. Five slides in next to you ensuring that his body is facing yours, “I’ll have you know that I have a lot of redeeming qualities that you loved. Not to mention, I’m a sweet talker Darling.” Five brushes his hand against your cheek, holding eye contact with you. Five’s green eyes are intense as you stare back noting the specks of blue in them. “I know, it’s hard to look away from them right?” Five winks at you finally breaking eye contact and sitting back, attention back on his newspaper. You blink rapidly trying to process what had occurred between the two of you.

Suddenly, a pulse rushes through the car shaking it as it passes. Five immediately sits up, hand gripping yours as he scans the area for signs of danger. You two exit the car, still holding hands. “Five? Where’d the cows go?” You question pointing towards the previously filled farmland which was now completely vacant. “Damnit can’t I get just one day off?” Five sighs throwing his hands in the air. The teenage boy gets to working on equations trying to figure out what he and his siblings fucked up now. In the distance, you hear a faint yell. A few seconds later comes Klaus with an angry Amish mob chasing after him, “Start the car! We’ve got to go now!” The three of you clamber into the car and speed off.

Klaus tells Five his findings and experience with the Amish and how his mother died before he was born. Five stomps on the breaks, causing you to fly forward, “We are so fucked. We’ve created the Grandfather Paradox.”

Once back at Hotel Obsidian Five takes you with him to find Lila. Her son, Stanley, tells you that she’s in the women’s restroom. Five is about to enter before you stop him, “Hey perv, this is the ladies room. Let me go.” You spot Lila in the bath and wave at her, “Y/N! Long time no see. Well actually, I guess you’ve never met me before but…I know you. And I can’t stand you just as much as I hate your husband.” Lila throws a knife in your direction and you are about to move out of the way when you feel a rush of air as you are blinked across the room.

You pull out of Five’s grip, “I can handle myself Five. And he is not my husband!” Lila approaches the two of you fully nude, “If you lovebirds are done with your couples quarrel. I’d love to get this over with.” Five and Lila fight and blink around the bathroom–you never knew two people could have the same powers. Lila manages to knock Five off of his feet, she then blinks to you and punches. You duck down, narrowly avoiding her fist. You sweep your leg at her feet aiming to knock her down. Lila lands on her back and you use your powers to transform into Luther in order to have an advantage, size and strength-wise. You swing your arms up in the air readying to pummel the woman into the ground. Lila mimics your power also transforming into Luther–your eyes widen as you realize what her powers are. Lila pulls her legs to her stomach before kicking them out, launching her legs into your stomach. You fly back, groaning as you land on a sink and breaking it off the wall. Curse Luther and his stupidly big monkey body.

Five has recovered and catches Lila off guard by slamming his body into hers. While distracted he squirts her in the face with soap, “Okay! Fuck! That’s enough!” Lila calls out, wiping the soap out of her stinging eyes. Five blinks over to you as Luther, “Y/N? Are you okay?” You transform back into your teenage self, accepting Five’s outstretched hand, “Never been better.” After making sure you were okay, Five grabs the briefcases from Lila’s possession. They were of course broken and the two decided that they would use their powers to travel to the Commision.

“We can’t bring her, we barely have enough power to bring ourselves.” Lila states motioning towards you. Five looks at you trying to figure out where to put you for the time being. Five walks you to his brother Diego, “I need you to watch her. I’ve got things to do and she can’t come with.” “What the hell? No! I’ve already got one little shit to take care of. I don’t need another.” You scoff at the conversation between the men, “I can hear you guys, you know?” They both ignore you. “Just make them watch each other, I don’t know. Figure it out, I’ve got to go.” Five walks off quickly with his hands in his pocket. Diego looks at you and rubs his face, “Stanley! Get your ass over here and come meet your Auntie!”

part three

taglist:

@ohmyitsfaith

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlight prompt: Danny and Duke being childhood friends, but Danny tells Duke the moment the accident happens and such cause he trusts him, only for Danny to go radio silent when giw decide to block the town communications in senior year.

So Duke-does he tell Danny he's Signal or not? Up to you-gets worried the longer no contact goes by.

Maybe the away game thing seen in other posts where the sports team still does away games and Danny gets enough good will with star or dash maybe and they send a message to Duke that's some coded phrase and Duke knows shits going down?

(yourlocalcorviddad, it's a side blog so didn't want to send from main sorry)

Danny is not someone who is on his mind a lot, these days. It’s to be expected, considering how distance and their double lives eat up all the time they have to talk. Really, it’s a miracle that they were able to speak enough to learn about their own individual vigilante work, especially with Duke bouncing around foster homes for a good portion of that time. 

They haven’t spoke in months but that’s normal for them.

Duke thinks he can be forgiven for not knowing something was wrong. He still won’t forgive himself for it.

“Danny’s gone?” he repeats, feeling numb. There’s static ringing in his ears, his entire world hollowing out.

The guy in front of him looks grim, unable to meet Duke’s eyes. Did he introduce himself? Duke can’t remember, can’t keep his spiraling thoughts straight in his head. “He’s gone. His entire family is gone and we haven’t been able to call for help because… well…”

“It’s those guys, right? The ones in white?”

“You know about them?”

“Danny told me. Danny told me a lot about what he did in Amity Park.”

The guy lets out a slow, relieved breath. “Good, then I don’t have to explain. Sorry, it’s just that it’s not something we talk about, especially out in the open. After the last few months, things got really bad. We know the GIW took the Fentons, but we can’t find out how or why and they’ve got us on a tight lockdown.”

“Then how did you get out?” Duke asks. Another arguably more important question pops into his mind a second later. “Actually, how do you know about Danny and… you know. The other things.”

The grimness on the guy’s expression fades away some beneath the sudden shame and embarrassment. “Oh, that. Well, I dunno how much he told you about his, like, daily life, but, um. I’m Dash. Baxter. I bullied him?”

Dash. 

Dash. That’s a name he recognizes. 

Danny’s complained about Dash a lot in the past. Since they were in middle school, really. Duke would always get mad on Danny’s behalf about how terribly he’s being treated, how no one would stop such obvious bullying. And every time, Danny would laugh it off and say in that soft voice of his, It’s alright, Duke, really. Having you care is more than enough for me.

It never stopped the bullying, though, but the way Danny talked about Dash changed when they both entered high school. He was still annoyed about everything Dash did, but there were less insults about him, less venting about every little thing that pissed Danny off about him, as if he just didn’t care anymore.

And there is, of course, the most memorable time Danny called Duke about Dash over the summer.

Hey, Danny, Duke had began, only to be cut off by Danny yelling, I kissed Dash?! Or he kissed me?! What am I supposed to do now!

And Duke, despite the jealousy he felt at hearing that Danny and Dash kissed, laughed so hard he cried while Danny yelled at him to be helpful. 

There wasn’t any discussion on Dash since, beyond a comment here and there about a funny fanboying thing Dash had said about Phantom. The focus of their conversations shifted towards how hard it was to be heroes or vigilantes, quiet reassurances that they’re both doing the best they can, tips traded about best ways to patch themselves up and get through the night. Sometimes, it felt like Danny was the only person in the world to really know Duke; all his pain and promises, his dreams, everything he was Before and who he became in the After.

He’s missed Danny, but the last message Danny sent him told him that things were getting rough in Amity Park, and to not call or contact him until he reached out first.

So Duke trusted in Danny and focused his attention in Gotham, putting his all into becoming a better hero, someone people can rely on. 

He thinks that maybe he should have fallen into the Bats’ bad habits of invading privacy to make sure Danny’s okay. 

Too late for that now, though.

“I know you,” Duke says after a long moment. “He talked about you sometimes. Come with me, we have a lot to discuss.”

Dash looks appropriately nervous, but he doesn’t argue. 

It’s a tense, quiet walk to the library where Barbara works. She’s stationed at the front desk when he arrives and greets him with a smile, eyes flicking towards Dash in question.

“Hey, Babs, got a private study room open?”

Her gaze sharpens and Duke can’t help the feeling of relief that flows through him, knowing that Oracle is ready to look out for him. “Let me check,” she says, turning towards the computer to click around a few pages. “Study room 8 is open.”

That’s the study room with a working lock and soundproofing. It also has cameras and a mic inside, but all the other study rooms have one too, just for safety purposes. Things could always go terribly wrong when people are locked together in a small room, and having video and audio evidence of what happened has assisted in more than a few cases. 

He leads them up to the second floor, past the students studying and the group of young children in the back corner of the library listening intently to a read aloud. 

The only occupied study rooms are those up front, closer to the stairs. The back rooms are empty and quiet, the perfect place for a little impromptu interrogation.

“So,” Duke says as he closes the door to study room 8 behind them. Dash sits down as if this is just a casual conversation, but the way his foot taps against the floor betrays his nerves. “Danny’s gone. And somehow, that lead you to me.”

Dash glance around, then leans closer to drop his voice into a harsh whisper. “The Guys In White got some insane upgrades a few months ago and forced every citizen of Amity Park into a surveillance state. The entire Fenton family is gone, but we all know it’s really because they want Danny.”

“Explain the situation in Amity Park some more.”

“Well. It’s like this: we didn’t take them seriously, so they upped their moves and got us trapped. No one goes in or out of Amity Park without good, verifiable reason. We have a curfew and we can be randomly stopped and searched for ectoplasm or exposure to ghosts. Most of the ghosts have left, but a few of the stronger ones hang around to cause trouble to get the GIW off our backs for a bit.”

“So how did you end up in Gotham?”

“I was invited to tour the college. And since outsiders were expecting me, the GIW let me go. But there’s definitely some that tailed me to Gotham, but I can’t find them at all. Even talking to you now is a huge risk for me.”

Which means they don’t have much time to talk before someone comes looking for Dash. His words, paired with everything Duke’s heard from Danny, paint a deeply unpleasant picture in his mind. “Are you going to be in trouble?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s Danny we’re all worried about. He told me before he got caught that if anything happened to him, I should find you. Tucker helped us narrow down where exactly you are and sent you that text to get you to where we met.”

“What do you think I can do?”

“I don’t know,” Dash admits. “But Danny trusts you, and he needs your help.”

Duke was never going to say no to this request to begin with, but damn if those words don’t make him want to run to Amity Park without waiting for anyone else.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay. I’ll help rescue him and bring down the GIW. You should go now, before they get too suspicious.”

“What are you planning?”

“I got a couple of friends who are good at destroying government property. Trust me, you’ll see what we’re up, we’re pretty noticeable if we’re pissed off enough.”

“Don’t take too long then,” Dash says, standing up, “I expect a good show from you. See you around, man.”

And with that, Dash pats Duke’s shoulder and leaves the study room. Duke doesn’t follow after him.  He’s got a rescue to start planning, and the less time he wastes, the better.

In the end, it’s pretty simple. It’s not a hard mission at all when the time comes for them to act, but the amount of data they gather and have to shift through is daunting. But that’s more Tim and Barbara’s forte, so he trusts them to handle it. 

Together with Red Robin, Spoiler, and Black Bat, they hit Amity Park hard and fast. 

One night was spent learning the lay of the land and every station and lab set up by the GIW. The second night was spent burning it all down and tossing open cages full of green blob ghosts and a few transparent, weakly glowing human ghosts. Stronger ghosts, glowing brightly, joined them in a few places with battle cries and maniacal laughter.

They split up and took down all the bases and patrol stations on their own, sweeping through the city like vengeful shadows. 

By dawn, the GIW were in shambles, without any bases or equipment, and rounded up for arrest. 

Cass was the one to find Danny and his family; his parents were forced to create weapons for the GIW under threat of Danny and Jazz’s torture. Danny was locked up like an animal and studied. Jazz had restraints on, including a muzzle, and a bloodthirsty rage in her eyes. Apparently, she had put up the most fight and, while being studied for repeated exposure to ectoplasm and radiation, started biting people.

The Fentons are big names in this conflict. Tim makes the executive decision to burn one of his out-of-state safehouses so they can hide and recover in peace, then promptly moves them into it as soon as the EMTs give them the all clear. They’re gone by the time the sun is rising over the horizon, and the curious Amity Parkers that have gathered behind the blockade of police cars have to be reassured that the Fentons have been taken away for their protection, not for further abuses. Even then, tensions are high and the locals are clearly prepared to start rioting now that they have a chance to fight back.

As vigilantes, they’re not meant to interact with cops much. Perhaps it’s simply their experiences in Gotham that keep them at a distance, disappearing into the neighborhood the moment attention shifts off of them. Either way, Duke is hurrying out of Amity Park with the rest of the team on his heels, eager to return to Gotham and follow up on their own leads to make sure the GIW is properly gutted and dismantled. 

Duke heads off for the Hatch as soon as they reach Gotham, hoping to shed the suit and finally be able to call Danny. The guilt of not noticing how bad things had gotten rolls through his stomach, and more than that, he’s missed hearing Danny’s voice. 

The first few calls go straight to voicemail. Duke leaves a quick message asking Danny to let him know how he’s doing as soon as he can talk. 

Then he goes for a shower and to change into civilian clothes, prepared to make his way to Wayne Manor to let Bruce know how everything went. And hopefully distract him from his Disappointed Father/Leader Lecture about taking on missions behind his back, as if Duke can’t handle himself. And also because Bruce has no leg to stand on when it comes to this. He’s fully prepared to throw that entire lecture back into his face at a moment’s notice.

The post-mission exhaustion is hitting him hard and fast. Duke has to brace himself against the wall once he’s out of the shower, resisting the urge to just lie on the floor and sleep there until he starts feeling more human. 

Somehow, he gets himself into some sweatpants and a plain shirt, pulls on a pair of mismatched socks, and begins gathering his things so he can get to the Batcave. 

He’s in no state to be driving. Maybe someone would be willing to take him there?

Just as he reaches for his phone to thumb through his contacts and see who he can bother, it buzzes in his hand. Duke blames the way he jumps on his exhaustion, then blinks his tired eyes to squint at the name that pops up onto the screen.

Danny.

All at once, his exhaustion fades away. A rush of adrenaline runs through him as he scrambles to accept the call, already pacing around the room so he doesn’t fall asleep. 

“Hello?”

There’s a moment of silence, then the exhale of a breath that turns to static over the call. “Duke,” Danny’s tired voice says. “Duke…”

“You doing okay? I couldn’t get to you before you and your family had to leave and go into hiding, but I’ve been worried about you, man.”

“I’m good. We’re all fine, now. Fentons are strong, you know? We’ll bounce back in no time.”

From what he’s heard about Danny’s family, that’s most definitely true. He’s seen the pictures of walls Jack Fenton has burst through with his body. It’ still hard to believe that no one in the family is a meta, outside of Danny.

“You need anything? I can get it to you, just say the word. Anything at all.”

Danny hums, then asks with a playful note in his voice, “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“I need you. How fast can you come meet me? I’ll even pay for express delivery.”

Duke laughs, so relieved at hearing the lightness return to Danny’s voice that he feels weak in the knees. “It’ll be at least two days. I gotta sleep and debrief with Batman before I can see you. It’s gonna take some time to get out of Gotham again.”

“Maybe I can go to you, instead,” Danny suggests. “Fly over and be there is less than an hour.”

“Are you in any shape to be flying right now?”

“I’m fine! Already healing and everything,” Danny insists.

“It might be dangerous if any rogue GIW agents go after you.”

“Well,” Danny says, “That’s why I need to get to my knight in shining armor sooner rather than later, right?”

Duke bites his lip to fight back a smile, blinking his eyes forcefully to keep them from closing under the heavy weight of exhaustion. “Does that make you a damsel in distress?”

“I mean, I did need rescuing, so I guess? I’m not much of a damsel, but I could put on a pretty dress for you. It’ll be like playing pretend when we were kids.”

“Oh, man, I kinda miss those poofy dresses. I think I could still rock on, put it on top of the armor when I go out for patrol.”

Danny snickers. “Signal: the most well dressed vigilante in Gotham.”

“That’s me, baby!”

The last of the agonizing fear that’s choked him since he first talked to Dash finally melts away. Danny’s fine now. Everything’s okay; the GIW are done for and there’s plenty of people willing to look out for the Fentons. This will never happen again.

“Hey,” Danny says, voice suddenly turing more serious. “Send me your location. I wasn’t joking when I said I could fly over to you. And before you say anything! I do need it; Jazz and my parents are smothering me and I just need to get away from everything and pretend all of this never happened.”

The admission softens Duke, makes him shove away everything that tells him this is a bad idea, that Danny needs more rest first, that having Danny fly over alone and without warning any of the Bats fills Duke with anxiety. 

He does miss Danny. More than he can put into words.

“Yeah, okay,” he says at last. “Come meet me, Danny.”

He texts Danny the location of the Hatch before common sense tells him to be more careful with his base of operations. Not that it matters, anyways; if there’s anyone in the world he trusts with everything, it’s Danny. 

Then he sends the Bats a quick text saying he’s crashing in the Hatch and to not bother him until the sun is fully up two days from now. Oracle gives him a thumbs up emoji, which is a good guarantee that she will personally see to it that no non-emergency messages interrupt his rest and recovery time.

Duke has no idea how long it will take Danny to get to the Hatch, so he putters around, cleaning up the space and straightening it out in an attempt to keep busy enough that he doesn’t crash. Travel really takes it out of him. It’s one of the cons of being born and raised in Gotham: he doesn’t have the stamina to travel outside of it, especially when they were there and back in less than three days.

Thank god for Tim’s many motorcycles and his tendency to see the speed limit as a weak suggestion that can be ignored while on a mission.

Ultimately, the call of sleep is too strong to resist. 

One moment, Duke is sorting through files on the Hatch’s computer, and the next moment, he’s face down on a bed with his face shoved into a pillow. 

Blearly, he manages to pull his phone out of his pocket and send Danny a typo-ridden text that hopefully gets across the message of might be asleep so just come in, don’t wait for me to answer the door.

He’s out like a light as soon as it sends. The last thing Duke registers is his phone dropping out of his hand and falling against the mattress with a little bounce.

When he begins to wake up, something’s changed. As much as he wants to go back to sleep, awareness comes back to him slowly and Duke forces himself to claw his way out of unconsciousness to figure out what, exactly, is bothering him so much. Until he figures out what’s changed in the room, he won’t be able to sleep because he’ll be worried about someone breaking in.

His mind comes back online long before his body does. It’s only when he tries to move that Duke realizes he’s no longer alone on the bed; there’s someone wrapped up in his arms, body temperature a little too cool to be a normal human.

Blinking open his eyes, Duke looks down at the head of messy black hair and feels Danny’s soft breath ghost across his chest. 

“Danny?” he manages to say, voice rough with sleep. 

Danny hums and doesn’t move.

“Hey, look up. Let me see if you’re really alright.”

“Mmm, no,” Danny mumbles, burrowing his face into Duke’s chest some more. “‘m sleepy.”

A good argument. Duke is also sleepy. 

“Fine,” he says, “Check in the morning, then. G’night, Danny.”

“Night, Duke. Thanks for saving me.”

He tightens his grip on Danny, contentment burning warm in his chest. “Always, Danny. I’ll always save you.”

That’s why he’s a hero, after all. To save others, to reach a hand out to everyone the way he needed when he was younger. To keep the people he loves safe. To make sure Danny always finds a way back to him. 

This is what makes all the pain of this lifestyle worth it.

Danny makes everything worth it.

(@yourlocalcorviddad tagging to make sure you see this!)

[harveysweakness]

a fic about jealous harvey?

..thoughts?

A/N: jealous Harvey has me

Harvey didn’t often feel the need to prove himself. He was a self-assured, confident, successful man. He got what he wanted and his biggest desire was you. You two had known each other for years, only realizing you would be a perfect couple in the last year. And in that time, Harvey had never felt jealous.

Except for now.

You were incredibly respectful of the relationship you had with Harvey. You used to flirt (among other things) with clients in order to get what you needed. Ever since you and Harvey had made things official, you’d stopped doing anything of the sort. But that didn’t stop clients from attempting to make advances on you.

Your boyfriend didn’t often feel concerned about the advances they attempted, because you respectfully always declined their offers for dinner, declined their offering of their arm when walking into the court house, etc. But Harvey couldn’t stop the anger bubbling inside of his chest when he saw Mark Daniels.

Mark Daniels was CEO of Harper National, a newfound AI company that had gained an enormous amount of legal attention in the past few months due to a battle over company rights. He was arrogant, charming, good-looking, and beyond wealthy. He was similar to Harvey, which is why your boyfriend was so angry.

Daniels was constantly trying to beat Harvey, holding your coat open for you when meetings had finished, grabbing you a coffee, tea, or water at the start of depositions, and buying you dinner every time he saw you, even if he had left the building before it was close to dinner time. The man had it delivered to your office, once even as you had sat down in Harvey’s office with the dinner he had bought for you.

The problem seemed to be that Harvey couldn’t just discuss his feelings with you, but instead decided he had to beat Mark at his own game, which meant that you were in the middle of a stupid men’s war.

“And can you be sure that-“ You stopped talking, confused as Harvey entered the conference room.

“I’m heading out, just wanted to quickly say ‘goodbye.”

“Oh, okay, goodbye Harvey,” you replied with a polite smile. It faltered when he moved around the conference table to bend down and press a kiss to your cheek.

“Harvey-“you began, a little shocked at the display of unprofessionalism.

“We’re in the middle of something, here,” Daniels spoke up.

Harvey opened his mouth to speak, but your eyes flashed dangerously at him and he shut his mouth. You watched as he sent a smirk towards Daniels as he walked out. It took everything you had in you not to yell at the two men. Sighing, you refocused on the documents in front of you.

——————

“Hey, sweetheart,” Harvey greeted as you walked into his apartment. He took one look at your face and furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” You asked, anger growing as you threw your bag into a nearby chair. “How about that display of ridiculous toxic masculinity you decided you needed to show earlier?”

“You mean in the conference room? I was just saying goodby-“

“No, you were trying to prove to the man what you think is yours, which I am not. I am not yours, I am not anybody’s and I know that man gets under your skin but you-“

“Get under my skin- the man tries to shove the fact that he wants you in my face!” Harvey argued, tossing the dish towel angrily onto the counter.

“But I don’t want him!”

“How am I supposed to believe that?”

“Because I am not going to leave, Harvey! Mark Daniels is not in your league! And he is certainly not attractive to me! He is not my boyfriend and I know that you are scared of losing me, scared that what we have will mean nothing, and I know why, but I am not what happened in your past. And I know you love me, even if you haven’t said anything.”

“How can you know that?” Your boyfriend asked, fear quickly flashing in his eyes before he masked it once more.

"Because I know who you are. I just know, Harvey," you deadpanned, your anger softening. "I know that you tell people we met at a bar because you want our meeting place to be intimate to just us. I know that you were sick when we went up north, but I knew you weren't ready to be that type of vulnerable with me that early in our relationship. I know that your favorite show isn't that law one you like, but actually Will and Grace. I know when you ask me to marry you, it will be because you can't hold it in anymore, and I know that on our wedding day you will say something ridiculous that will make me laugh and two seconds later you will say the most romantic thing I've ever heard. I know that you look not only at my ass and boobs, but at my stomach. I see the way your eyes soften, the way you stare, imagining me pregnant with your child. I know you, I know Harvey Specter. And the next time you get jealous, you remember that."

You finished your rant, slightly out of breath, chest heaving. A flurry of emotions crossed Harvey's face. He looked as though he was about to say something, but thought better of it. Instead he quickly crossed the few steps to you, his lips slamming into yours, arms coming around your waist, bringing you into him like his life depended on it.

Your hands moved up to his neck and hair while he picked you up easily. You could tell he was trying to do anything to get closer to you, like nothing would ever be close enough for him.

“You are the most amazing woman I have ever met,” he murmured against your lips.

“I know.”

[doctorbitchcrxft]

The Usual Suspects | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? )

Warnings: creepy police officer (not that that differs from real life), canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 3242

A/N: Ooh damn, this one was interesting to write. I tried the best I could to make this as coherent as possible. Y’all enjoy! Also, this'll be another creature-double-feature Saturday to make up for the short chapter! Love you, my darlings!

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“I don’t wanna have to keep asking this, kid. Who are you?” the man who’d been interrogating you asked. He was a member of the Baltimore police department: Peter Sheridan. He’d been a complete dick to you thus far after arresting you in the boys’ motel room with Sam. 

“I told you, Ann Wilson,” you replied. 

He chuckled humorlessly. “Listen, dollface—” he leaned across the table creepily, and you fought the urge to recoil under his predatory gaze, “—I’m done playing with you. You were found with Sam and Dean Winchester; one of which was supposed to be dead. They’ve got some pretty serious charges stacked up against them, and you, by proxy. Credit card fraud, breaking and entering, and this one… puzzled me. Grave desecration.

"But still, these are a long way from murder. Then, we get a fax from St. Louis. Where Dean’s suspected of torturing and murdering a young woman.” He got up from his chair and began pacing. “However, no one could prove anything, of course, because supposedly he died there. So now we know Karen Giles wasn't the first person he murdered. And what about Sam? He was pre-law before dropping out after the death of his girlfriend. He’s twenty three years old, no job, no home address. His mother died when he was a baby; his father's whereabouts are unknown. And then there's you.”

“Can you cut the monologuing, man? It’s really starting to get on my nerves,” you replied. You had been sitting back in your chair with your arms and legs crossed confidently the whole time he spoke despite the anxiety you had given your situation.

He slammed his hands down on the table; you didn’t even flinch. “Who the hell are you? And how are you connected to the Winchester brothers?”

You sucked in air through your teeth and relaxed back in your chair. “Seems you got nothin’ on me. You can’t really hold me if you can’t even pin down who I am.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I do have you on one thing— over a dozen possible matches when we ran your prints.”

You tsked, cutting your eyes at him challengingly. “Possible. You can’t hold me on possible.”

“But I can hold you for forty-eight hours under suspicion of accomplice to murder,” he responded. “So you might as well start talking.”

You scoffed, sitting back in your chair.

“Sweetheart—” you nearly punched him when he called you that name, “—Dean’s life is over. Sam’s probably is, too. Yours doesn’t have to be. If you tell me who you are— maybe a bit about your place in all this— maybe I can get you a deal with the DA. We can look into your history, check your record; see how well you clean up. How does that sound?”

You considered for a moment before talking, repeating the story you and the brothers had discussed before your arrests in case you got caught. You had one of these stories for every case you’d ever worked on with them. “Sam and Dean’s dad knew Tony Giles. They were old friends; in the service together and everything. So we showed up as soon as we heard about his passing.”

Obviously, none of that was true. You and the brothers had found a story about a man’s throat that had been slit in the papers and headed up to investigate. 

You continued your story. “Woulda been kinda hard for Dean to kill Tony, considering we weren't in town at the time. Anyway, that’s when we went to see Karen. She was… she wasn’t doin’ well. We just wanted to be there for her.”

Karen was Anthony Giles’s wife, and you’d gone to see her to get information. She said he’d told her there was a woman standing at the foot of their bed the night before he passed away, and she'd been bleeding from the neck.

“And that was it. End of story,” you said.

“No, it’s not,” Sheridan pressed. “We have an eyewitness who said they saw two men and a woman fitting your description breaking into Giles’s office.”

“Karen just wanted us to get some old photos, okay? Police weren’t letting her in. I know it was wrong to break in, but she gave us the key,” you lied flawlessly.

In actuality, that was where you’d found a stack of papers littered with “danashulps” written over and over again on the tray of the man’s printer. The poor guy’s throat had been slit so deep, part of his spinal cord had been severed. Your working theory was that a Dana Shulps had died with her throat slit, and now she was back to wreak havoc. However, you found no evidence of any person by that name. So, you were back to square one. 

“Dean went back to Karen’s place to check on her and bring her those pictures and stuff,” you explained.

“Hm, and why didn’t you or Sam go with him?” Sheridan responded.

“We just went back to the motel,” you shrugged. “How’d you know we were there, by the way?”

“Why would I tell you?” he snapped.

“Whoa, pump the hate brakes, Biff,” you remarked, “I was just asking a question.”

“Don’t get cute with me, dollface. Now, you were with both brothers the whole time you were in Baltimore. Why separate now? Because Dean left you. To go murder Karen.”

You tried to seem unfazed, but your jaw clenched in anger. “He didn’t kill anyone.”

He slammed his fists on the table. “I heard the 9-1-1 call! Karen was terrified. She said someone was in the house.”

“Well, whoever it was, it wasn’t Dean,” you said. You stared him down. “Let me ask you something, babe. Do you have a murder weapon? Do you have a motive?” 

He seemed to have no response.

“That’s what I thought. Come back to me when you have something interesting to say.”

He angrily stormed out of the room, and your lips twisted up into a satisfied smirk.

***

You sat alone in your room, repeating “Dana Shulps” to yourself on a loop. You suddenly got an idea. ‘Maybe it’s not a name.’ You reached across the table and pulled a pen and paper pad toward you. You wrote several combinations of anagrams as to what it could possibly be. The only plausible thing you came up with was “ASHLAND SUP.” ‘But what would the S-U-P be? Ashland… a city? A town? …A street?’

***

You listened carefully to the commotion going on beyond the wall of your room. There was no two-way mirror, and from what you could tell, no camera nearby. You listened as footsteps hurriedly crossed in front of your room heading to the left and then growing quieter. You gathered your courage and took that opportunity to make your escape. Quickly, you opened the window and climbed out onto the outside of the building. Looking down below, it was almost a four-story drop. However, you knew you could make your way to the fire escape a few window sills over if you were careful enough. 

You clung to the wall, nervously, careful not to look down or move too quickly when the wind picked up. Thankfully, you made it to the fire escape safely and headed down as fast as you could. You weren’t sure if Sam or Dean had escaped, but you decided to try the trick they taught you to find each other: searching for Jim Rockford in the guest list of the first motel that appeared in the yellowpages. Thankfully, when you did, you found a Jim Rockford. You quickly made your way over to said motel and broke into the room. Sam had his gun drawn on you when you opened it.

“(Y/N)! Don’t scare me like that!” he huffed, putting the gun down.

You grinned and ran over to him. He scooped you up in a hug.

“I’m so glad to see you,” you told him. “What are we gonna do about Dean?”

He sighed. “I don't know, honestly. He’ll figure something out. For now, let’s focus on this ghost, huh?”

“I’m guessing you figured out it was an anagram, too, right?” you asked.

“Duh,” he grinned. 

“How’d Dean give you the cue to escape?” You sat down at the table across from him. 

“Got our lawyer to give me a note. Called me Hilts on it,” he smirked back.

You laughed. “The Great Escape? Nice.”

“I gotta say, man, I’m worried,” Sam told you. 

“Why?” 

“I’m guessing they read you the charges,” he replied. 

You nodded.

The brunet sighed and ran a hand down his face. “This is bad, (Y/N/N)."

“Yeah, I know.” You stared down at the table in front of you and bit the inside of your cheek nervously. 

Sam huffed and tried to remain cheerful, changing the subject. “So, what are we thinkin’? Ashland’s a street, but what’s S-U-P?”

You shook your head. “I’m not sure. Initials, maybe?”

“Sounds like a good enough place to start to me,” Sam grinned.

The two of you began pouring through online resources to see if anyone had died ugly on Ashland Street.

“Dude, how’d you get all these files, by the way?” you asked Sam, referencing the many manila folders and photos laid neatly on the table between yours and Sam’s laptops. 

Suddenly, a knock was heard on the door. You looked through the peephole to see a frightened woman in her mid-forties, and you opened it to her. 

“Wait, (Y/N)—” Sam stood upon seeing her, and you put two and two together that she was probably a cop at Sam's end of the case. The woman shrugged and entered the room. She showed Sam her wrists which were lined with a ring of bruises. She explained to you that she had seen the same ghost Karen described seeing and that she saw “DANASHULPS” appear on the mirror in the bathroom at the same time the lesions appeared around her wrists. 

“These showed up after you saw it?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, I guess,” the woman responded. “You know, I must be losing my mind. You're a fugitive. So is she.” She gestured to you. “I should be arresting you.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” you questioned pointedly.

“Diana Ballard, Baltimore P.D.,” she said. “And… what was your name?”

You snickered. “You’re not getting that out of me that easily. Hey, do me a favor, look through these for us.”

“Why would I do that?” She suddenly seemed to register what she was looking at. “How'd you get those? Those are from crime scenes, and booking photos.”

Sam chuckled. “You have your job, we have ours. Tell me if you recognize anyone.”

She flipped through the stack and stopped on the photo of a drugged-out-looking blonde woman. She stopped on it and held it up. “This is her. I'm sure of it.”

“Claire Becker,” you nodded. “Twenty-eight; disappeared about nine months ago.”

“But I don't even know her. I mean, why would she come after me?” Diana asked.

“Well, before her death, she was arrested twice. For dealing heroin. You ever work narcotics?” Sam replied.

“Yeah, Pete and I did. Before homicide,” the detective answered.

“You ever bust her?”

“Not that I remember.”

“It says she was last seen entering 2911 Ashland Street. Police searched the place and didn’t find anything. Guess we gotta check it out ourselves,” you added.

“Why would we do that?” Diana asked.

“See if we can find her body,” Sam explained. “We gotta salt and burn her bones. It's the only way to put her spirit to rest.”

Diana rolled her eyes. “Of course it is.”

***

Turns out, poor Claire’s body had been hidden right where the moon shone through the window of 2911 Ashland Street labeled “Ashland Sup.”

Diana noticed the necklace on the corpse and touched it cautiously.

“That mean something to you?” Sam asked.

You could see she was beginning to get angry. “I've seen it before. It's rare. It was custom made over on Carson street.” She pulled out the necklace from her shirt and showed it to you and Sam. “I have one just like it. Pete gave it to me.”

“That son of a bitch,” you murmured. 

“Now it all makes perfect sense,” Sam began.

“I'm sorry?” Diana scoffed.

He nodded, explaining, “Yeah. You see, Claire is not a vengeful spirit, she's a death omen.”

“Claire's not killing anyone,” you chimed in. “She's trying to warn them. You see, sometimes spirits, they don't want vengeance, they want justice. Which is why she led us here in the first place. She wants us to know who her killer is.” You turned to Diana. “Detective, how much do you know about your partner?”

She thought for a moment before breathing out, “Oh my god. About a year ago, some heroin went missing from lockup. Obviously it was a cop. We never found out who did it. But whoever did it would need someone to fence their product.”

Sam huffed. “Someone like a heroin dealer. Somebody like Claire.”

“C’mon, we gotta find him before he kills somebody else,” you said.

*** Claire drove you and Sam on the route to the police station to confront Sheridan. She snapped her phone shut and huffed in annoyance.

“What?” you asked.

“Pete just left the precinct. With Dean,” she replied.

“What?!” you and Sam stiffened in your seats.

“He said the prisoner had to be transferred, and he just took him. Dispatch has been calling but he won't answer the radio,” she said.

“Radio? He took a county vehicle?” Sam questioned. 

She nodded. 

“Well, then they should have a lo-jack, you've just gotta get it turned on,” he noted. 

Somehow, Sam managed to track down the vehicle Sheridan had taken. You arrived just in time to see him aiming a gun at Dean who was kneeling on the ground behind the van.

“Wait! Wait,” Dean pleaded. “Let's, let's talk about this. I mean, you don't want to do something that you're gonna regret later.” His voice became louder as you got closer.

You drew Diana’s gun from her holster and aimed it at Sheridan. “Drop the gun!”

Sheridan turned his gun on you. “You!”

You cocked the gun. “Me,” you smirked.

Sheridan suddenly seemed to notice his partner. “Diana? How'd you find me?”

“I know about Claire,” she said evenly.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Put the fucking gun down!” you ordered.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Sheridan scowled. “You're fast. I'm pretty sure I'm faster.”

“Why are you doing this?” Diana interrogated.

“I didn't do anything, Diana,” he said. “It wasn't my fault. Claire was trying to turn me in, I had no choice.”

“And Tony? Karen?” Diana pressed.

“Same thing! Tony scrubbed the money, he got skittish, and then he wanted to come clean. I'm sure he told Karen everything. It was a mess; I had to clean it up. I just panicked.” Sheridan’s sorry attempt at emotionally relaying his story was enough to induce an eye roll from you.

“How many more people are gonna die over this, Pete?” Diana asked dejectedly. 

“There's a way out. This Dean kid's a friggin' gift. We could pin the whole thing on him. Right? No trial, nothing. Just one more dead scumbag,” Sheridan chuckled coldly.

“Hey!” you barked. 

“No one will question it. Diana, please. I still love you,” he told her, faltering slightly as he looked at his partner. Dean rolled out of the way, and you took the opportunity to fire and hit Sheridan in the stomach. 

Diana didn’t even flinch at you shooting Sheridan. “Then why don't you buy me another necklace, you ass?”

You kept the gun trained on Sheridan as you rushed to Dean’s side, crouching in front of his slumped-over form protectively. You tried to get a lock on Sheridan, but he and Diana were fighting too erratically for you to be able to get a clear shot. At some point, Sheridan lost his gun, and Sam went to go for it.

Pete grabbed it before Sam could, shouting, “Don’t do it! Don’t do it.” He rose from the ground and kept the gun trained on Sam as he backed away.

You stared past Sheridan to see Claire having appeared behind him, grinning ear to ear. You tossed Diana her gun as Sheridan turned around, and she shot her former partner in the back. He fell to the ground, much more permanently this time.

You turned your focus to Dean. You got the keys to his handcuffs from Diana and helped him out of them.

“Thanks,” Dean smiled.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” you asked, putting your hands on either side of his face and looking him over.

He grabbed your wrist gently. “Relax, sweetheart, I’m fine.”

You nodded before throwing yourself into his arms. He hesitated in what you assumed was surprise but hugged you back tightly. You let go of him as the morning sun began to hit your eyes. You looked over to Diana who was crouched over the body of her ex-partner.

“You doin' alright?” Sam asked her.

She shook her head. “Not really.” She swallowed, her breath coming out unevenly despite the fact that she tried to hold her composure. “The death omen, Claire— what happens to her now?”

The brunet shrugged. “Should be over. She should be at rest.”

Dean brushed his hands off on his jeans as he stood next to his brother. “So, uh. What now, officer?”

“Pete did confess to me. He screwed up both your cases royally. I'd say that there's a good chance that we could get your cases dismissed,” she replied.

“You’d take care of that for us?” Sam questioned.

“I hope so,” Diana said. “But the St. Louis murder charges? That's another story. I can't help you. Unless—” your and the boys’ heads perked up at her slight change in tone, “I just happened to turn my back, and you walked away. I could just tell them that the suspects escaped.”

Sam’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, are you sure?”

Dean pointedly looked at his brother. “Yeah, she's sure, Sam.”

Sam shook his head. “No, it's just, I mean, you could lose your job over something like that.”

“Look, I just want you guys out there doing what you do best. Trust me, I'll sleep better at night.” She turned to go. “Listen, you need to watch your back. They're gonna be looking for all of you right now. Get out of here. I gotta radio this in.”

“Hey, uh, you wouldn't happen to know where my car is, by chance?” Dean asked her.

“It's at the impound yard down on Robertson.” She noticed Dean’s calculating look. “Don't... even think about it.”

“It's okay, it's alright, don't worry,” Sam chuckled. “We'll, uh, we'll just improvise. I mean, we're pretty good at that.”

Diana nodded. “Yeah. I've noticed.”

You and the brothers began to walk down the road. 

“Nice lady,” Sam commented.

“Yeah, for a cop. Did she look familiar to you?” Dean turned to you.

“Yeah, actually. I don’t know where from, though,” you answered.

“Yeah, me neither. Anyway, you guys hungry?”

You nodded, but Sam shook his head.

“For some reason, I could really go for some pea soup,” Dean said.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[venuszn]

☆ : The Elevator

Summary / You and Bada are rival choreographers under the same company. Bada has always treated you differently and you didn’t know why. You convinced yourself that you hated her for it. But you’re both forced to face each other one evening when the company elevator breaks down and there’s no where to hide - from each other and ur feelings.

Cw / Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff

Authors note / So I wrote parts of this sober, tipsy and then hungover . . . And then wishing I was drunk lmao. It’s not my best piece of work I’ve been feeling a little demotivated but here u guys go <3

Wc / 2.3K words

“We appreciate that the two of you are this company's top performing choreographers. That is why we asked you both here today, as we would like to discuss the possibility of the both of you collaborating together to create a new, fresh, but distinct style that will suit our new girl groups debut.”

“I understand. But personally, I believe that my style is enough on its own and does not need additional input to achieve the vibe you are aiming for.”

Bada’s words smack you across the face and you feel your eye twitch. Your nails pick at the fabric of the chair beneath you as you force your anger down, swallowing the words of bile bubbling in your throat.

“No offence of course, to you.” She doesn’t even look at you as she says your name.

Your mouth stretches in a wry tightlipped smile. “Oh no, none taken. I actually feel the same. I’m confident enough in my own abilities. And I feel like collaborating with a dance style such as Bada’s might throw the vibe off entirely - which would be unfortunate. But of course no offence to you, Bada.” You say as you turn to face her, offering an empty smile.

Bada scoffs.

You’re both snapped out of it when you hear the aggressive clearing of the director's throat. “Well, I've heard what you both have to say. As much as I would have hoped for a little more professionalism, we do not have the time to waste trying to force you both to work together. So this is how it will be - the both of you will create your own separate choreographies and will perform them in 3 weeks time. We will be choosing one for the debut. Good luck to you both. You’re excused.”

You both bow and make your way out of the office and into the corridor. You walk ahead of Bada, irritation fuelling your steps as you enter the elevator. You turn to see Bada, a few steps behind you and out of pure pettiness you repeatedly press the button to close the elevator doors.

But to no avail as her long legs play to her advantage and she catches the doors just in time.

“You can’t keep doing that whenever you see me. You’ll break the elevator.”

“Then maybe take the stairs.”

Bada rolls her eyes.

Bada stands beside you, hands in her pockets as she looks ahead.

“My dance style might throw the vibe off entirely ?” She echoes your words from earlier with amusement.

“Yeah. What are you going to make those poor girls do ? Grab their crotches and start thrusting ?”

Bada scoffs and leans over you, a little too close for you liking, to press the button for the ground floor.

You feel her presence infiltrate your personal space like a bulldozer to a glass wall - because to Bada you were as transparent as can be and she could see right through you.

“Big talk coming from you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean ?”

“It means that I can see through this act you have going on and that I know you don’t hate me.”

You wish the elevator would surpass the ground floor and plummet into the fiery mouth of hell.

“Go to hell.” You hammer back.

“You didn't deny it.” You can almost hear Bada’s smirk.

You feel the rage rise within you - rage once tamed like the flame of a candle now igniting a stick of dynamite as you feel yourself losing your composure.

“I do hate you actually.”

You spin to face her, eyes locking with hers, the amusement evident within them as she raises a brow.

“I hate how you look down on me.”

You hold your ground, eyes bearing into her soul as you continue your barrage of words.

“I hate how you dismiss me. You have never once given me a chance. I don’t know what I did to you but one day you decided that I wasn’t worth your time or effort. You do not know me, Bada. But you have decided that you hate me.”

Bada’s eyes stare back into yours, void of amusement but replaced with another emotion unknown to you.

“I don't hate you, actually.”

The elevator comes to a stop as it arrives at its destination on the ground floor - regrettably not hell.

“I don’t care about you enough to hate you.”

Bada brushes past you and swiftly exits through the doors without sparing you a glance.

You stand frozen as you watch her leave. Her words bouncing around your ears in a dance of jest.

Only that it wasn't amusing.

In that moment you promised yourself that you did, in fact, hate Bada Lee. And that you would never take an elevator alone with her again.

How wrong you were.

Three weeks quickly passed by and it was the night before the deadline. Despite the fact that it was a Sunday evening, you found yourself back at the company building in hopes of quickly squeezing in one last practice before the morning - and what better place to do it than in the very room you would be dancing in.

You approach the elevator doors and you hear footsteps approaching behind you. You turn and scoff as you cant believe your luck, or lack thereof.

Bada walks towards you, cap donning her pink and black hair as she looks down to her phone, not yet noticing you. You deliberate for a moment whether to shut the doors on her now that she's not paying attention or to suck up your pride and let her take the damn elevator with you as it’s nighttime and you’re probably the only ones in the building.

The angel on your shoulder won and you folded your arms taking a step back to lean against the wall as you watched her approach.

As she gets closer, Bada lifts her head up and her eyes meet yours.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Are you stalking me now ?”

Bada scoffs in incredulity and steps in.

“I guess we both had the same idea.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You press the button to go up and you both stand there . The sound of the elevator making its ascent fills the void of silence between you. You stand there in disbelief of your luck, wondering if tonight could get any worse.

It did.

The four metal walls begin to quake as a shrill cry of metal scraping together slices through the once silent air.

You feel your body jump in shock as you grip onto the railing. Your head snaps to look at Bada but her eyes are already focused on you - wide and alert as you see her arm almost instinctively stretching out for you.

Before you can register anything, your bodies are bounced around once more and the electricity crackles and hisses before it blacks out entirely.

The elevator comes to a halt and you are both swallowed in darkness.

Bada immediately calls your name, voice laced with concern.

“Bada ? I'm here. I’m sitting down”

“Are you alright ?” She makes her way over to you, following the sound of your trembling voice before she crouches down in front of you as you sit on the ground knees to your chest.

The emergency lights flicker on, your eyes adjust and you blink to see Bada Lee mere centimetres away from you as she looks at you with the most emotion you've ever seen her show outside of dancing.

Bada blinks back at you, eyes staring into yours as she manages to observe how shaken you are. A feeling squeezed at her heart and she internally scolds herself.

Bada quickly rises to her feet. Now able to vaguely see, she takes a couple steps towards the elevator buttons and wastes no time in ringing the alarm.

Silence follows the rings as you both hold your breath, waiting and praying for someone to pick up.

“It’s a Sunday night, there’s probably no on-”

You're cut off by the voice of a man on the other side. Bada lets out a breath of relief and she takes control, explaining to the person your dilemma and securing you both your release.

Bada then makes her way back over to you and you feel her sit besides you. The dim overhead light permitting you to see her but only vaguely.

“Are you alright ?” She says your name tenderly.

You feel your throat tighten and you swallow hard. “I’m fine. Just a little claustrophobic but I'll be alright.”

“The maintenance guy said a minimum of three hours.”

“Yeah . . .” You mutter into your knees as you hold your arms around them tighter. Insecurity crawling its way around your mind. “Sorry you're stuck on here with me. We don’t have to talk or anything.”

“Stop . . . Just, stop.” Bada removes her jacket and places it around you without another word.

You both sit in silence, besides each other. You don't know how long it has been but it feels like forever and you pray that the girl beside you is unaware of the pounding echoing in your chest and the chorus of thoughts overlapping each other within your mind. You curse at yourself for getting into this position; ‘what kind of sick game is the universe playing ?’, you ask yourself.

“You know, when I said I didn’t hate you I meant it.” Bada’s words pull you out of your thoughts.

“Like you also meant that you didn't care about me. Which I can understand, we’re not friends. We don’t really know each other.”

“What if I want to know you more ?”

“What ?’

Bada shuffles in her spot beside you and clears her throat. She begins by saying your name gently.

“I don’t actually hate you. Or not care about you.”

You freeze in your spot, eyes locked on the vague darkness in front.

Bada continues, eyes locked but on you.

“I know that you don’t hate me either. That made everything so much harder.”

“W-what do you mean ?”

“I mean that I needed you to hate me. I needed to act like an ass around you and push you away before we even got close.”

“But why wo-”

“Because I have feelings for you.”

You feel your heart skip multiple beats.

“Fuck. Ever since you walked through those company doors you caught my attention. The way you carried yourself, how hardworking you were and how insanely talented you were - it all blew me away.”

You slowly turned to face Bada.

“And of course, how beautiful you are. I knew that I couldn't have you. I have a rule I've always stuck to which is not mixing work with pleasure. Then I saw how you would look at me and I knew I was done for. So I started to do everything to avoid you and to push you away.”

“Oh how selfless of you.” You say dryly.

“You made me feel like shit, Bada. For how many months you made me think I did something wrong or that I hurt you. You’re such a fucking coward.” You sniffle as you bury your head into your knees.

“I know. I know and I won't deny that. But here now, with you, I’m ready to step up and to face my feelings towards you. I can’t ignore them any longer and I can’t ignore you any longer. There’s been so many times where I’ve wanted to hold you - to touch you. To laugh with you or comfort you. I want to do all of that and more. That’s if you'll accept me . . .”

Bada gently guides your cheek and you let her, turning your head to face her as she holds you tenderly under her fingertips.

You feel heat travel through you from her touches and you lick your lips in nervousness. Bada’s eyes immediately flicker down to meet the sight of them. Her eyes then meet with yours, the both of you allowing the gravity of your attraction to pull your faces closer together.

Lips mere breaths away from each other, your hands find their way to rest on her shoulders as Bada slightly tilts her head and your lashes flutter shut.

“Is this my answer ?” Bada whispers onto your lips.

You inch forwards intending to close the gap.

But the sound of the doors prying open interrupts snapping the both of you out the moment causing you to jump back away from each other.

The bright light of a torch shines through the doors and you turn to see that you are being freed.

You look over at Bada, face a little flushed. Bada clears her throat and rises before offering you her hand and helping you up.

You feel butterflies travel down your arm to your stomach.

You both thank the guy and quickly exit, making your way out of the company doors before you realise that your hand is still in hers.

You blush and attempt to let go but you feel Bada grip your hand firmer as she leads the both of you out into the darkness of the night.

“Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.”

You smile to yourself at her words and you find yourself lowering all of your defences for Bada Lee - the person you swore you hated.

Tag list / @princhii , @lil-elliesgf , @wiselight @nimixe ! If you’d like to be tagged for future Bada fics lmk !!

[a-living-canvas]

Buttercup

"You sell…cookies?" 

Whumpee nodded. A genuine smile plastered on their face. Their arms carried a basket full of packages of cookies. Whumper pondered for a moment. They were not too fond of sweets, especially cookies. But, seeing the innocent look on Whumpee's face made their heart slightly tingly.

Whumper looked around the neighbourhood, making sure nobody saw their interaction before turning their attention back to Whumpee.

"Won't you come inside? We can discuss more about your sweet little cookies." Whumper's lips curled up slightly, eyes wandering all over Whumpee.

Whumpee hesitated, they suddenly felt uneasy by the request. "Um, I'm not really supposed to enter the customer's house." They explained, fingers gripping tightly on the basket holder. Whumper looked over at the packages inside the basket, noting not even half of the cookies had been sold yet. 

"How unfortunate, I might change my mind once we are inside. I might even buy all of your cookies, you know?"

Whumpee eyes widen in shock and excitement. Whumper chuckled at the sight, they were so desperate to get customers, huh?

"So, what do you say?" They raised an eyebrow at Whumpee. Whumpee thought for a few seconds before they nodded their head. Whumper grinned, they led Whumpee to the living room as they locked the door shut.

Whumpee sat on the couch. The basket on their hands now on the coffee table. They looked a little nervous, but it's okay, because Whumper liked the sight of their prey being nervous and scared. They took a seat across from Whumpee, waiting for them to talk.

Whumpee fidgeted with their fingers before explaining, "Um, so…I only sell two flavours here. Chocolate chip cookies with almond cream on it and Strawberry—"

"What is your name?" Whumper suddenly asked, interrupting Whumpee's train of thoughts. Whumpee blinked their eyes a few times.

"...what?"

"Your name, little one. What is it?" Whumper leaned back on the couch before crossing their legs. Whumpee felt intimidated by their cold gaze.

"My name is…Whumpee." 

Whumper hummed. "Are you sure you want to keep selling cookies for the rest of your life? It's not really worth it, you know?"

Whumpee got speechless for a moment at the sudden question. They have never been asked before, especially by their customers.

"I'm only helping my mom…" Whumpee said, not wanting to share any more information. Whumper watched them intently, they chuckled when Whumpee kept evading their gaze. 

"Aww, how kind. Helping your mommy, hm?" 

Whumper extended their hand to the basket, taking one of the packages inside. "Do you mind?" Whumper asked as they took one of the cookies and brought them to their lips. 

"Go ahead." Whumpee said. They watched as Whumper bit the cookie with their teeth while maintaining eye contact with them. Their eyes flickered for a second on Whumper's lips, as they licked off the crumbs so so slowly for Whumpee to watch.

"It's…delicious." Whumper commented, licking each of their fingers to clean it. Whumpee sighed in relief. 

"So, do you wanna buy it?" 

"Hm? Oh, no no no…the cookie is delicious, yes. But, that's not what I want." Whumper chuckled.

Whumpee shifted slightly in their seat, confused. "Then…what is it that you want?"

Whumper smiled at the question before they stood up and walked across the table to Whumpee. They leaned their body to them before whispering right into Whumpee's ear.

"You."

"...M-me?"

Whumper chuckled, "Yes, you. I want you, darling."

They wrapped their hands gently around Whumpee's as they looked straight into their eyes. Admiring those confused, vulnerable gaze. It was cute. 

"Would you let me…?" Whumper asked softly. Fingers trailing up until they reached Whumpee's neck, thumb brushing the side of their neck delicately. A smirk plastered on their face as they caught Whumpee's flushed face, what a delightful sight indeed.

"You are blushing, sweetheart…am I making you flustered?" 

Whumper asked. They chuckled softly as Whumpee remained silent. "I know how to make you blush even more." 

Whumper tightened their grasp around Whumpee's neck. Whumpee yelp at the sudden pressure, they grabbed Whumper's wrist as they were struggling to breathe. Their face turning to a darker shade of red, almost like the content inside their head were trying to burst through their skull.

"S…stop.." 

"Shh…just feel it, darling."

Whumper pushed their thumb against Whumpee's throat, resulting a gorgeous sound of pain escaping from their little friend. They leaned closer to Whumpee's ear, whispering with a malicious tone dripping on it,

"I bet you'll look so pretty tied up, with bruises and scars all over your body. I wonder what kind of sounds you will make when I carve your skin, when I make you mine…"

Whumper grinned sadistically at Whumpee's pitiful whimpers.

"Would you…like that?

Whumpee shook their head many times, tears streaming down their face from fear. "N-no! Please…please! Let me go!"

Whumper hummed, "Hmm…someone's eager to be mine." They said as they dragged Whumpee from their collar to the basement. Whumpee's thrashing and struggling in futile behind them.

"No! Please! Please!"

Whumper closed their eyes, smiling softly. "God, I love that sound."

They opened the door to the basement and threw Whumpee inside before they locked the door. Whumpee's crying and screaming were muffled as they were banging the door desperately. The basement was dark and cold, they couldn't even fathom how someone could live in here. 

Whumper made their way upstairs again before they sat on the couch. They beamed up at the sight of Whumpee's cookies in the basket. They took one of the packages, opened it, and put the cookie inside their mouth one by one in glee. Their evening was filled with the sweet cookies and adorable little sounds of Whumpee's misery from the basement.

~

Part 2

[heartofbusan]

While we're theorizing about AYS, may I leave this one with you?

THEORY: Before the shoot began, JM and JK had a chat about how they were going to approach it as entertainers. One of the items they agreed upon was that JM would film 'house tours' of wherever they stay the night and JK would film the food insert shots. We see JM film a trour of their camping tiny house, the air b&b in CT and the house in Jeju. The only time he films the food is at the omakase but honestly, what else was he supposed to do there? Lol. JK was very diligent in getting 'dynamic' food coverage everywhere.

They each had their own little responsibility and I'm just so endeared. Who knows if we'll ever find out the answer but I think it's cute.

If anyone isn't following along with @curio-queries AYS production breakdowns, please do so. They are so insightful!

Thank you for this ask 😙 I feel like it's part of a longer conversation about how AYS came to exist, which I'd love to have. We might get some more insight into the 'why and how' of it after all the episodes and behinds have aired. But because theorizing is part and parcel of being ARMY, I say: why wait, let's go!

Early in episode 3, there's this one off-hand comment JK makes to Tae about getting out the 'company card' to pay for their meal in Jeju. It was relatable as most of us have at some point gone to lunch or dinner on 'the boss's dime'. It also served as a reminder that the expenses of this trip are literally billed as 'work' for them. And as they took it upon themselves to embark on this show, task assignment comes with the territory. So yes, it makes sense for them to have agreed as to their part of 'the coverage' during pre-production. The coverage being the type of shots they were willing and able to film themselves. And mind you, them filming parts of it is not only another checkmark on the overall shotlist; a way for production to get close up's of their faces and inserts of their meals, but also a way to emotionally seat the audience inside their experiences. Seeing it all through their eyes. So it was a great production choice as well as a narrative one to have them film with the go-pro's.

I think that's part of why it's so funny to them. They literally arranged a paid vacation for themselves, lmao. That omakase, they needed those shots as receipts to justify that (surely extremely expensive) meal. Do we think Taehyung would have had his meal paid for by Jimin, or could they have written it off as a 'guest star' expense? 🤔

Another thing that filming with the go-pro's does is, literally, hand jikook the reigns of what they're willing to film/show.

A much discussed example is the morning scene inside the CT house. JK wakes up, turns on the camera in the hallway outside Jimin’s door, entering, the scene cutting to the camera inside, etc. There are scores of decisions that took place prior to that scene. The editing of it is doing nothing to make the timeline of events any clearer. But all those cameras would have had to be turned on prior to them 'waking up' in the reality of the show. Parsing all of those choices, including when crew is back inside the house once morning comes, will have to wait for another day (that is , if anyone even cares to know, lol).

The point I'm getting at is that while traveling, JK and JM have more control over what we're being shown than we even realize. As you stated in your blog, ITS did this a lot.

ITS would end right up until the tannies would have had to leave a place. Never showing the travel back, probably because emotionally, you want the audience to stay with the characters inside the happy bubble of the experience, not the slog of traveling home. Especially because there is no longer a story to work towards.

My question to you, do you think they 'woke up' together prior to turning on the cameras and putting on the microphones? Who turns off the cams and mics at night before they actually sleep?

I think you know as well as I do that we shouldn't forget that AYS is a story we're being shown. There is a production that has to takes place in order to make it, and there are two professionals who are working to show us these moments. But more importantly, there are two human beings who are also having 'off-camera' moments who decide what they're willing to include in this show.

Sometimes, the lines get blurred, but the intentionality of this show and the kind of relationship they're inviting us to observe is monumental, in my opinion.

[myownwritings]

One-(p)up - Lance Stroll

lance stroll x fem!girlfriend!reader

Summary: it's your boyfriend's birthday, and you have to think of a perfect idea to one-up his birthday gift to you, except… you somehow forgot his birthday was today.

Warnings: None. This is just one big floofy fluff.

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: this is my first Tumblr post. I hope I did the lay-out correctly.

Requested by @heartbreakinmiddecember.

‿︵‿︵ʚɞ『』ʚɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚɞ『』ʚɞ‿︵‿︵

It was October 29th, 08:00 AM, and you were pacing nervously through the kitchen. How could you have forgotten about your boyfriend's birthday? His birthday?! You rubbed your temples, trying to think of something that would be a quick fix. And it had to be something amazing. Because for your last birthday, he took you to Paris, showed you the entire city and spent a week in the French city of love.

And you, very confidently, then promised him you would one-up him.

But it is his birthday today, and due to all of the stress at work and him being gone last weekend, you forgot. Girlfriend of the year, right?

You opened the fridge; the least you could do was make him breakfast and hopefully get a wonderful idea before he would greet you in the kitchen.

And in the middle of your attempt to make breakfast, Lance entered the kitchen, only wearing grey sweatpants. You looked up from the pan frying the eggs and smiled at the sight, “My birthday boy.”

Lance returned the smile and walked to you, “Good morning, baby.”

“Happiest birthday,” you said and wrapped your arms around his neck as soon as he was close enough. “I am making you some breakfast.”

“Can I help you?”

You shook your head, “You’re not supposed to help me; it is your birthday.”

Lance chuckled and pressed his lips on your temple, “Okay then. Am I allowed to grab my own coffee?”

“Sure thing. I am almost done anyway.”

You tried your best not to be too nervous around him. Knowing your boyfriend, he was not even going to ask about his present– he did not care about materialistic things. That did help to avoid the subject for at least another few minutes as you danced around the kitchen to set the table.

“Lancey? Come eat breakfast, love.”

“I am right here, baby,” Lance said, taking a seat at the table. “It looks and smells delicious, thank you.”

“I tried my best.”

“I haven’t had a birthday breakfast in years.”

Last year, his birthday was during a race weekend overseas, making it impossible for you to celebrate his special day together, all the more reason for you to make this one special.

“Glad I could make you one,” you replied and took a bite from your breakfast. “When was the last time?”

“I think ever since I was a teenager. Due to the races, most of my birthdays were spent with hotel breakfasts.”

You nodded slowly, chewing and still thinking about the perfect birthday gift, “Are there other things you missed out on due to your career?”

Lance put his fork down as he tilted his head, visibly thinking about an answer. He had not expected the question; the two of you never really discussed childhood matters, as it was not necessary, according to you— you much rather focussed on the present time and the future, as those were the times you could still alter.

“Uhm,” he hummed, showing that he was still thinking about it. “When I was a kid, I always wanted a dog, but unfortunately, my parents never agreed due to my lack of availability to take care of it. They said they would hire someone for anything but taking care of a dog.”

“Ah,” You said, and a little smirk crept on the corners of your lips. “Good thing you’re living on your own now, then, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

You shook your head quickly, as a sudden idea had sprung to mind, “Nothing, baby. Just finish your breakfast so we can get ready for the day.”

Lance smirked smugly, “Ah, yes,” he said in remembrance. “You are trying to one-up the trip to Paris. Tell me, how are you going to do so?”

“Oh, Lancey, I can’t spoil your birthday gift already,” You grabbed both empty plates to start and clean up. You had an idea in your head, but you couldn’t arrange it with Lance still near you.

“Go get ready,” You spurred him on to leave the room. “I will clean this up.”

Lance nodded, gave you a kiss on the cheek, and left the room as you quickly loaded the dishwasher. You waited until you heard the water from the shower running before grabbing your phone.

The idea had suddenly snapped into your mind; there is a puppy ranch nearby, and you knew the owner from one of your previous summer jobs, one before you got your full-time job, and one before you knew Lance.

You dialed the number, and wonderly, the owner picked up before the third ring, “Hey, y/n! How are you?”

“Good morning, Henri,” You greeted your old boss. “I am good, but I need a favor.”

“Sure, tell me.”

“Did you, by any chance, have 8-week-old puppies at this moment?”

“Uh,” A little sigh rolled over the lips of the man on the other side of the phone, “I think I have one litter of puppies. One of the labradors had 7 puppies, but listen, y/n, 5 of them are already reserved and paid.”

“That means two are not, and I just want to bring my boyfriend over to cuddle with them, too. Is that possible? It is his birthday, too. I promise to buy whichever one he chooses.”

“Of course, you and your boyfriend can come over. I also have a litter of 5-week-old labradors.”

“Thank you, Henri!” You almost exclaimed; your plan was actually working. “We will be there within an hour.”

You hung up and walked to the bedroom. The shower just stopped running, and Lance stepped out of the bathroom, towel around his waist.

A playful whistle ran over your lips, immediately creating a grin on Lance's face.

"Do we need to hurry, baby?" Lance asked as you made your way to the bathroom.

"Within an hour, but it's nearby. Don't worry."

Lance nodded and got dressed while you took a quick shower and got dressed afterward. He waited patiently on the couch, scrolling through his Instagram as you came down. You smiled as you saw the amount of memes he passed on his following page.

"Ready to go?"

Lance put his phone in his pocket, got up from the couch, and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the tip of your nose, "More than ready."

He grabbed the keys to the car from the little dresser in the hallway, and that's when you put out your hand, insisting that he had given over the keys.

"You're kidding me, right?" Your boyfriend asked, almost laughing as if it was a joke. You, too, knew that he was no passenger princess, but for one day, your roles in the car were reversed.

"I am serious, Lance," you said. You shook your hand, another demand for him to drop the keys in your hand.

He rolled his eyes and gave over the keys to his Aston Martin. You had driven it before, mostly when he wasn't in London, you weren't with him to the races, or whenever you ran last-minute errands.

"It better be worth it," He said, taking place in the passenger seat.

"You won't be a passenger princess for long, baby," You reassured him. "And I will let you drive on the way home."

Lance nodded, and you started driving to the ranch. Lance looked out of the window, trying to find any clues on where you were going, but after ten minutes, the busy city street changed into the quiet countryside streets.

"Not long?" He chuckled as he got more comfortable in his seat.

"Five more minutes," you informed him, and that information somehow made him even more comfortable.

Arriving on the ranch, Lance got out confusingly, "Baby, are you sure we're at–"

"Y/n!" A stranger called for you, earning your attention as you turned to where the sound came from.

"Henri!"

Lance got even more confused; he turned along and saw how you quickly hugged the older man. He straightened his back and smiled at Henri as the elder one reached out for his hand.

"You must be the boyfriend," Henri said, shaking Lance's hand. "I am Henri. Y/n used to work for me when she was still a student."

"Ah," Lance retorted, quickly licking his lips. "I am the boyfriend, indeed. Lance Stroll."

"Familiar name," Henri muttered, returning his attention back to you. "Y/n, where did you pick this boy up from again?"

You chuckled, "He's a racing driver, Henri. And I met him when I was at the headquarters of Aston Martin for that job application I told you about."

You didn't get the job, but you did get Lance, who had offered to give you that same job multiple times, but by the time you and him had gotten serious, you were already in a perfect position at your current job.

"Of course," Henri said enthusiastically. "She told me a lot about you before she started that corporate job."

Your cheeks got red as Lance smiled amusingly, "She did?"

"Enough, please," you begged both of them. "Henri, please lead us to Lance's surprise."

The three of you walked across the yard until you reached the building in the middle; Henri stopped in front of the door, "I already let them loose in their playroom. You know how it works, y/n. Good luck."

And Henri walked away, leaving Lance very confused. He reached out for your hand on the doorknob, "What is going on, baby?"

"I am not going to ruin the surprise two seconds before you see it yourself. You heard Henri, I have worked here. I know what's going to happen and how to handle things."

Lance gave you a quick nod, and you opened the door, entering a small, empty hallway. You grabbed Lance's hand and led him to the only other door.

"Ready?" You asked.

"More than ready," he answered.

You opened the door, and immediately, seven puppies ran up to you and the– now very surprised and amazed– boy next to you.

"Oh my–!" Lance exclaimed as the puppies jumped against him and let out little, playful barks. Lance kneeled down to give them attention– big mistake. All seven puppies jumped against him, causing him to fall over.

The puppies took advantage of Lance's vulnerable state, jumping on top of him and licking his hands and his face.

"Y/n!" Lance called out to you, his laugh echoing throughout the room. "Help!"

You first grabbed your phone to quickly snap some pictures. Lance tried to give equal attention to all the puppies, but he was totally outnumbered and there was no way for him even to try and get up.

"Y/n, please!" Lance begged, but the laughs were too contradicting to immediately act on his cries for help.

"You're doing great, baby," You said instead and kneeled down next to him in an attempt to get one of the puppies to go to you instead of to him. "They just seem to love you totally."

Lance chuckled; with the attention of the puppies divided between the two of you, he could finally sit up and give you a cheeky smile, "This was an ambush."

"You did it to yourself. I would never sit down that fast."

"And you didn't think of warning me?" Lance carefully grabbed one of the puppies and started petting it gently before the pup jumped away again.

"You can have a slight do-over with the German Sheppards in the next room. But they are still with their mom, so mostly it is just watching and reaching out your hand when they come to you yourself."

Lance chuckled, "This is already amazing, baby. Thank you."

"You wanna know the best part?"

Lance crocked his eyebrow as he tilted his head, waiting for you to give him the answer.

"We can adopt one," You said happily. "If you want to."

You didn't know how to describe what happened on your boyfriend's face; it went from confusion to realization to shock and happiness.

"What?"

You nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah! We can adopt one of the puppies, which will be yours, entirely. I will just take care of them whenever you're away."

Still, you could not describe the light in his eyes, the way the corners of his mouth must have started to hurt. Everything about him seemed light all of a sudden.

"You're not joking now?" He tried confirming with you.

"No, baby," you reassured. "This is my birthday gift to you."

Lance got up, maybe a bit too quickly, as the puppies tried jumping him again, but he made his way to you and crashed his lips against yours, "I love you so much." 

You cupped his cheek and pressed your lips back against his before whispering, "I love you too." 

It didn't take Lance long to sit back down and let the puppies playfully attack him again. You sat back as the smile on your face only kept growing. And the guilt you had felt this morning had completely disappeared. 

Seeing your boyfriend so happy, so playfully, and finally in the off-season felt incredibly good. 

"Hi there," Henri's voice cut through the laughs, giggles, and small barks. "Having fun, I see."

 You turned around and smiled, "He's in another world." 

"Lance," Henri only now gained Lance's attention. "That blonde over there and the brown one there are still up for adoption."  

Lance looked at both the puppies, his eyes breaking a little just thinking about leaving one behind, "Can't we adopt both?" 

He then looked at you, tilting his head as he gave you his best puppy's eyes. You let out a small groan, "Come on, Lance..." 

"Baby, please," he begged you. "I promise we will do them good. They will have each other to play with. I will spend so much time with the three of you." 

You rolled your eyes, but the smirk already gave away the answer you were about to give, "Only if you admit that I did one-up you on this birthday." 

Lance crawled to you, kissed your lips, and nodded, "You definitely did, baby." 

[stariekis]

baby (cat) a board !

🛋️ pairing : 엔하이픈 ot7 + gn!reader . genre : fluff . cw : none ~ pls let me know if i should add smt .

— synopsis : a new addition to the family sounds like an amazing plan so why not adopt a kitty !

— note : bit of a tmi but cats are my favorite animal in the world and i wanted to write something like this bcs enha + cats = everything to me ! so here it is ~ hope you enjoy ! all kinds of feedback and reposts are appreciated my loves <3

heseeung :

— 'what are you talking about what is that cat distribution system'. you came back home one day after work with a little creature hiding in your tote bag. you told heeseung that the cat actually chose you that's how the cat distribution system works and now you have to keep it there's no other option. he let out the biggest laugh ever, you looked so cute with the small ball of fur in your hands. he could say no so when you asked for the second time if you can keep him he just nodded his head.

jay :

at first he might be a little hesitant — 'Honey i don't think it is a good idea, we have very busy lives who is going to take care of him?'. he was right though, but you wanted to adopt one for the longest time so, as soon as he said that to you, you started pouting at him — 'No y/n don't do this to me please oh gosh'. using your secret weapon (that's how you call it) you end up convincing him, telling you to take your cost and hop in the car. even though he wasn't a big fan and kinda allergic too he spent most of his free time playing with the kitty.

jake :

the biggest animal lover i know. he didn't let you say a word, as soon as you entered the house with the kitty he took the small animal in his arms — 'i do not care what you have to say he is our kitty now' he said, running back to your living room and sitting down on the sofa, playing with his new bestest friend. — 'well that was easy'. you thought, looking at your boyfriend who was being bitten by the kitty.

sunghoon :

he wasn't really sure either and, even though he refused a bit at first, he ends up loving the cat more than you. most of the time you would get back home to the sign of your boyfriend sleeping on the couch, the small ball of fur laying on top of him. because of that you teased him a lot, telling him how much he hated that idea of having a pet and now he event cuddle with him — 'he is cute baby what am i supposed to do' he said, signaling at the small kitty laying on the couch.

sunoo :

— 'omg love this is the cutest cat i've ever seen'. you showed him a picture of a baby cat that was up for adoption. you've always wanted a new pet, him being out most of the time makes you feel a bit lonely so why not adopt one — 'yeah we can go and pick him up together if you want to'. on you're way to the shelter you discussed name ideas, decided on what to buy, etc. he ended up naming him so you can think of him every time you call your new pet's name.

jungwon :

we all know that our wonie is allergic to cat's fur but how can he say no to you ?. when you came home all excited with the little creature hiding in your arms, your eyes shining and the biggest smile ever plastered on your face he knew he couldn't say no — 'Fine yeah me can keep it baby'. he even took you to different pet shops to buy toys and everything for the new family member, seeing you so happy makes his heart pound. he has the biggest soft spot on you.

ni-ki :

he would be the one bringing him home this time. remember that -key episode where he played with some kittens ? well, at the end of the day he took one home. he didn't bother telling you if you wanted to keep it or not, he just brought the little kitty home with him — 'You don't understand we need to keep him please babe' he was practically begging you on his knees at this point, putting it straight into your face telling you how cute he is, making you hold it and everything. at the end of the day you accept keeping the small animal, he was pretty cute after all and your boyfriend seems like the happiest man alive.