#they always do tension really well as well!

[reiding-writing]

hiyaa, cold reader series is so so amazing i just read it all in one sitting again but i was wondering if you could do one where she's jealous of a woman who starts flirting with spencer on a case maybe? maybe she's pissed because it's "unprofessional" but really she's pissed because he's being flirted with

AS IT SEEMS — SPENCER REID!

a local detective seems to hang on spencer’s every word. the unprofessionalism of it all really frustrates you.

spencer x cold!reader | 3.3k | flangst | cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n — is this… progression?

The flashing red-and-blue lights of the local PD’s vehicles paint shifting patterns across the asphalt as the BAU team steps onto the scene.

The air is thick with the scent of damp pavement and something acrid—gunpowder, maybe, or the lingering remnants of a nearby dumpster fire.

Officers mill about with that particular brand of tension that comes from knowing the FBI has been called in, half-relieved, half-defensive.

You take it all in quickly, the details slotting into place in your mind like a well-practiced routine. The weight of your badge clipped to your belt, the holster pressing against your hip—everything is familiar, grounding. But then she appears.

Detective Elena Foster is sharp-jawed and self-assured, the kind of woman who wears authority like a second skin. Her strides are long, purposeful, the confidence in her posture making it abundantly clear that she knows exactly how competent she is.

And she’s looking at Spencer like he’s fascinating.

You stand slightly off to the side as introductions are exchanged, arms crossed over your chest, expression unreadable. You’re practiced at this—at keeping your face neutral, your tone cool, your presence sharp enough to command respect without ever needing to raise your voice.

It’s always been easy. But right now, as Foster’s hand lingers just a little too long in Spencer’s when she shakes it, something tightens in your chest.

“Dr. Reid,” she says, eyes flicking over him with open appreciation. “I read your paper on statistical anomalies in serial offender data last year—brilliant work,”

Spencer, to his credit, looks momentarily startled. “Oh—thank you,” he says, blinking. “That was actually an extension of some previous research on—”

“That’s impressive,” she interrupts, flashing him a smile. “I’d love to pick your brain about it later, if you’ve got time,”

You watch as her fingers graze his forearm in a way that is entirely unnecessary.

He doesn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with processing the compliment, his mind already spinning with whatever information he had been about to share. You, on the other hand, notice everything. The deliberate lean-in, the way her voice dips just slightly when she speaks to him, the way her eyes linger.

It’s unprofessional.

That’s what irritates you. Not the fact that her attention is singularly fixed on him, or that he’s being flirted with in the middle of a crime scene. Certainly not that she’s touching him when she doesn’t need to be.

It’s the principle of the matter. This is an active investigation, and Foster should be focused on the case, not Spencer’s academic credentials and whatever else has caught her interest.

Your jaw tightens as you glance toward Hotch, who doesn’t seem to care about the interaction as long as it doesn’t interfere with the briefing. Morgan, beside you, exhales a quiet chuckle under his breath, like he’s picked up on something amusing. You ignore it.

“I assume we have a body to look at?” you say, voice even.

Foster blinks at you, as if only just remembering your presence. You don’t react, don’t shift under her assessing gaze, don’t give her anything to work with. Eventually, she nods.

“Of course,” she says smoothly. “Right this way,”

She turns, and Spencer follows, already mid-sentence about some statistical deviation he had noticed in the case file. And you?

You stay exactly where you are for half a second longer than necessary, exhaling slowly through your nose before following after them.

—

You follow the team through the cordoned-off area, past uniformed officers and the murmuring press lingering at the edges, searching for scraps of information. The crime scene is up ahead—an abandoned warehouse, dimly lit and rank with the scent of stagnant water and decay. It should have your full attention.

But instead, you feel your focus splintering.

Just behind you, Spencer is still speaking, his voice carrying that familiar, eager cadence he gets when discussing something intellectually stimulating. “It’s interesting—well, not interesting in the traditional sense, given the context, but rather statistically significant—that the unsub’s victim selection aligns with a pattern previously seen in—”

“Oh, I love that you talk like that,” Foster’s voice is warm, teasing, admiring. “Most people dumb things down, but you don’t. That’s rare,”

You stiffen.

It’s unprofessional.

That’s what you tell yourself as you watch the way she tilts her head slightly when he speaks, as if absorbing every syllable. As if he’s the most fascinating thing in the room. She leans in a fraction closer—just enough to make it noticeable, just enough to make your stomach twist.

It’s unprofessional, you think again, but the words don’t sit quite right in your mind anymore.

Because the truth is, you shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t be noticing the way Foster looks at him. You shouldn’t be hyper-aware of the way her fingers brush the edge of his sleeve again, so light it could almost be accidental. You shouldn’t be waiting for him to pull back, to shake off the attention like he does when social interaction becomes too much.

Except he doesn’t. He just lets it happen.

And that irritates you.

So you do what you always do when something threatens to knock you off balance—you shut it down.

“Reid.”

Your voice cuts through the air, sharper than you intended. The team stops, turning toward you. Even Foster straightens slightly, blinking at the sudden shift in tone. Spencer glances over, his expression a mixture of mild confusion and concern.

You exhale, tightening your grip on the case file in your hands. “We’re here to solve a murder,” you say, your voice even but firm. “Not to make friends.”

Foster’s eyebrows lift slightly, but she doesn’t comment. Morgan, who had been watching the interaction unfold with barely concealed amusement, makes a low sound in his throat—something close to a chuckle. You ignore it.

“I wasn’t aware discussing case patterns was off-limits,” Spencer says, tilting his head. His tone is neutral, but there’s a hint of something else there.

You meet his gaze, keeping your own unreadable. “It’s not,” you say. “Just keep it relevant.”

It’s not a lie. You are focused on the case. You do want to keep things professional. That’s all this is. That’s the only reason your patience is stretched thin.

Except.

Except you can still feel the ghost of Foster’s laugh curling around Spencer’s words. Except your shoulders haven’t relaxed since the moment she touched him. Except your own thoughts are turning against you, pressing in like a vice, asking the question you really don’t want to answer—

If you’re so unaffected, why do you have to convince yourself of it?

—

The investigation continues with the same steady pace, but your attention keeps wandering.

Every time you glance toward Spencer and Foster, you find her leaning in a little too close, her voice a little too sweet as she asks him to clarify some trivial detail. She’s careful—always careful—never quite crossing a line, but the way she speaks to him, the way she looks at him, it grates at you.

The word “unprofessional” loops endlessly in your mind, but each time you tell yourself that, something inside you pushes back.

You’re not jealous. You just want her to focus. This is a case, for God’s sake.

But the more she smiles at him, the more he just stands there, absorbed in the conversation, oblivious to the subtle dance she’s performing, the more that uncomfortable twist in your stomach tightens. Every laugh, every overly familiar gesture, stirs something inside you that you can’t quite name.

You can feel your teeth grinding as they talk, your gaze hardening on the two of them. You’re trying to focus on the case, you’re trying to ignore the nagging irritation building in your chest, but the more they interact, the more annoyed you become.

She’s practically flirting, and Spencer isn’t doing anything about it. Or, if he is noticing, he’s pretending it doesn’t bother him.

But it bothers you. Why does it bother you?

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the evidence bag in your hand, and before you know it, you’re standing too close to them, watching as Foster tries to steer Spencer away from the group to discuss something you know is irrelevant to the case.

It’s not urgent. You know it’s not urgent. But when you hear the soft cadence of her voice inviting Spencer to join her for a “quick chat” away from the others, the words explode out of you.

“Reid.” you say sharply, the sound of his name a snap. The words feel harsh even to your own ears.

Spencer’s head jerks around, blinking at you in surprise. His lips part, but you cut him off again, your voice colder than you intended. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

Foster stops mid-sentence, blinking in confusion at the sudden interruption. Her eyes flick to Spencer, and then back to you. The tension in the air thickens, but you don’t care.

You don’t care.

Except you do. And that makes it worse.

Spencer’s gaze softens as he turns back to you, the furrow in his brow deepening, something akin to concern flashing across his face. It only makes you more frustrated.

“I’m not finished yet,” Spencer protests quietly, but there’s a careful note in his voice, the kind that suggests he’s trying to be diplomatic, to avoid upsetting you.

You blink, realising you’ve taken another step too far. Your heart skips a beat at the softness in his voice, and for just a moment, you feel guilty. He’s just trying to help, trying to be professional. And yet, the only thing you can focus on is her.

You don’t let the guilt linger long. “Then stop getting distracted.” you snap, then force yourself to look away, eyes darting back to the scene as if it somehow holds your attention now. You’re already backing off, leaving the words hanging in the air.

Spencer stares at you for a beat longer than necessary, confusion and concern still flickering in his eyes, but he doesn’t press it. He doesn’t argue, doesn’t question you further. Instead, he shifts back toward the group, muttering something to Morgan about a pattern in the evidence, and you hear the subtle shift in his voice—he’s letting it go.

But you don’t feel relieved.

The knot in your chest tightens again. Why did you say that? Why did you let her get to you?

You tell yourself it’s about professionalism. It’s about the case. You don’t have time for distractions, not when the clock is ticking. And you definitely don’t have time to unravel this feeling that’s spreading through you like an infection.

Spencer doesn’t argue. He doesn’t snap back at you, doesn’t give you the defensive posture that you might expect from anyone else. Instead, he does something that immediately pulls the rug out from under you.

He looks at you.

Really looks at you.

For a moment, the world around you blurs, the noise of the crime scene and the murmurs of the team fading into the background. It’s just Spencer’s eyes, filled with something you can’t quite place—concern, maybe, or confusion, maybe a little of both. But it’s soft. Too soft.

Your pulse spikes, and for a split second, it feels like the floor is tipping beneath you. It’s so disarming, the quiet concern in his gaze, and it makes the frustration building inside you flare even higher.

“Are you okay?”

The question is simple, unassuming, and it cracks something inside you. It’s not a challenge, not a reprimand—it’s genuine, and that’s what makes it harder to brush off.

No. You’re not okay.

You’re furious, but you can’t explain why. You’re hurt, but you can’t pinpoint the cause. You’re jealous, and the idea of admitting that to yourself is enough to send your thoughts spiraling. And all the while, Spencer’s standing there, oblivious to the storm building inside you, just waiting for your response.

You can’t look at him anymore.

“I’m fine,” you mutter quickly, not meeting his eyes. You swallow, forcing your chest to loosen, fighting the sudden weight that presses down on your shoulders.

Your words come out stiff, rehearsed, and even to your own ears, they sound like a lie. But you say them anyway. Because it’s easier than admitting the truth.

You don’t wait for him to say anything else. You turn abruptly, your boots echoing on the concrete floor as you walk away, away from Spencer and away from the nagging feeling that he might see through you if you stay.

But you’re not running. You’re not hiding. You’re just… focused.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

As you round the corner, your mind keeps racing, fighting to keep everything in order. You tell yourself you don’t care about the detective’s attention.

You tell yourself it’s unprofessional, it’s inappropriate. And you tell yourself that you’ve seen it all before, that Spencer’s just being Spencer—oblivious to the subtle ways people gravitate toward him.

But none of that feels convincing anymore.

By the time you’ve reached the far side of the warehouse, your hands are trembling slightly. You push them into your pockets, trying to centre yourself. You feel the familiar coldness wrapping around you again, your professional mask sliding back into place like armour. It’s easier this way.

A sharp breath escapes your lips as you lean against the wall, your head pressed back, eyes closed for a moment. Focus.

You force yourself to take another breath. You’re here for the case. That’s all.

But as the minutes pass, the tight knot in your chest refuses to loosen, and all you can think about is the way Spencer’s face looked when he asked you that question. Are you okay?

And, just for a fleeting second, you wonder if he knows more than you think.

—

The rest of the case proceeds, but something has shifted.

There’s an undeniable tension now—both around you and within you. As you walk through the newest crime scene, examining evidence and speaking with witnesses, Spencer doesn’t give you the space you’d expected.

He stays close, hovering just behind you, always near enough that you can feel the warmth of his presence even when you’re too busy to glance at him.

He’s speaking to you more than usual, asking for your input first, even in situations where it’s clear he already has the answers. It’s as if he’s checking in with you constantly, gauging your reaction before making any decisions of his own.

The subtle shift doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Foster, who had been so eager to claim his attention earlier, is starting to back off, visibly frustrated by his sudden disinterest in her suggestions. She tries a few more times to pull him away for a “quick chat,” but Spencer doesn’t respond to her advances the way he did before.

Instead, he looks to you.

“Hey, I think we might need a second look at the victim’s phone records,” he says, voice casual but with an edge of expectation, like he already knows you’ll agree. “What do you think?”

You pause, the request startling you slightly. Spencer doesn’t usually ask for your opinion on the more technical aspects of a case, but you don’t have time to process it. The words come automatically.

“Yeah, definitely. It might give us a window into the unsub’s next move.”

Spencer nods in approval, his face softening slightly as he absorbs your response. But there’s something else there, something unspoken—a quiet acknowledgment.

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to stay close as the investigation progresses, as if he’s subtly keeping his distance from Foster without even addressing it.

You’re still frustrated—at him, at the detective, at yourself—but there’s a tiny, almost imperceptible shift in your chest. That small part of you that feels like you’ve been seen. That he noticed.

Every time Foster attempts to direct him away from the group, Spencer brushes her off with a polite but clear, “I’ll be right with you,” his eyes flicking to you before he moves to stand closer. You don’t say anything. You’re not sure you even want to acknowledge it. But it’s there—an undercurrent you can’t ignore.

Your mind still races with frustration. You can’t shake the gnawing feeling that something’s off, and you can’t decide if it’s the case, the detective, or yourself. But every time Spencer looks to you for direction, every time he positions himself just a little too close, your frustration starts to dull, replaced by something else.

He’s noticing you. He’s listening.

When the team breaks for a quick huddle to discuss their next steps, Spencer stands beside you. Not next to Morgan or Hotch, not pulling away to talk to Foster. He’s deliberately close, his shoulder just grazing yours as he flips through his notes.

“You alright?” he asks again, in that soft, concerned tone that makes you almost uncomfortable. It’s like he’s waiting for you to admit something, like he already knows there’s something you’re not saying.

You want to brush him off, to tell him to stop worrying about you, but the question catches you off guard. For a brief moment, the irritation—toward him, toward Foster, toward everything—subsides, and you're left with something unspoken hanging between you two.

"I’m fine," you mutter again, a little more convincingly this time, even though it’s not true. But you can’t find the words to explain it. Not when you’re still trying to convince yourself that none of this should matter.

Spencer doesn’t push. He just nods, the faintest flicker of a smile tugging at his lips before he pulls away to engage with the team, but he keeps an eye on you, always just a little more attentive than usual.

You try to shake off the feeling that this—whatever this is—matters, but it’s hard to deny. The connection between you two is there, unspoken, and for some unknown reason you’re feeling a lot more vulnerable than usual.

And that, more than anything, is what frustrates you the most.

[luvsferrariss]

˚⟡˖ ࣪. ʚ 💌 ɞ who said that I hate you? - OO2

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Synopsis: Where Y/n, in an attempt to escape from Charles, her rival, fails because Charles keeps getting closer, and Y/n starts to like it.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Charles Leclerc x Female Reader! Red Bull Driver

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Warnings: Cute, Charles has improved from his foolishness, nothing too serious in this one, just fluff 🤍

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Author’s Notes: I didn’t really like this story, it feels like I couldn’t develop it very well, but I hope you like it! English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ part one here ! 🤍

You couldn’t deny how Charles’ proximity brought several consequences, like: the media. Everyone was speculating so many things that happened between you two, theories totally out of reality. You tried to avoid him as much as you could or push him away, but he was always there, and that irritated you.

When you thought the wave of bad luck had ended, the universe conspired against you again.

This time it wasn’t your fault. It was finally your chance to make it to the podium, you were in second place, and because of a mistake from your team, you ended up in sixteenth place. After the race, you didn’t want to talk to anyone, and everyone knew it.

Then you hear a knock on the door but completely ignore it.

“I know you’re in there,” Charles says, and you just ignore him again.

After a while, you hear another knock. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“Go away, Leclerc,” you say straightforwardly.

After your response, there’s a deadly silence, then you just close your eyes and sigh. But within a few seconds, you get startled when your door opens.

Clearly, Charles hadn’t left, so he decides to check and see how you’re doing, then opens the unlocked door.

“Are you crazy, you idiot?” you say, irritated as he enters, still recovering from the shock. Charles smiles and leans against the doorframe.

“Before anything, I need to know. Are you going to break something? Because if you are, just let me know and I’ll leave,” Charles asks calmly, making your blood boil.

“I’ll break you, idiot!” you say, throwing a pillow at him, which he just catches.

“Look how bold you are,” Charles laughs, and you huff.

“Go to hell.” Your voice is quieter now. “What kind of idiot enters someone’s room uninvited?”

He ignores the provocation and gets closer, throwing himself on the couch like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Stressing yourself out alone won’t help anything, you know?” You squint your eyes at his words.

“Since when do you care about what I do?” He doesn’t answer right away. He just watches you, like he’s analyzing every expression.

“Since when did you stop hating me?” Charles says, and in that instant, you freeze.

And Charles notices.

His gaze locks on you for a second that’s too long, and for the first time, there’s something beyond rivalry there.

You look away, feeling your heart race in a way that annoys you deeply.

“Go screw yourself,” you say, still not looking at him, and Charles laughs softly.

“You’ve said that before, Y/n.”

He stands up and walks towards the door. But before leaving, he throws one last provocation:

“Try not to think too much about me, Y/n.”

And then, he leaves, leaving you even more confused and furious than before, not knowing what to respond.

( . . . )

The tension between you two grows to an unbearable point. Everything explodes in a tense practice, where Charles makes an aggressive move, and Y/n nearly hits the wall.

When you both get out of the cars, she goes straight to him in the pit lane, pushing him in the chest.

“What’s your problem?! You could’ve slammed me into the wall!”

Charles grabs her wrists, stopping her from pushing him again.

“You’re shaking. Are you scared, Y/n?” he asks, almost choking on the words.

You pull your arms forcefully, your face burning with anger.

“I will NEVER be afraid of you!”

He leans in slightly, closing the distance between them.

“Then why is your heart beating so fast?”

You pale.

Charles smiles.

You’re so angry that you almost punch him right there. But instead, you just glare at him with hatred and walk away.

But, for the first time, that hatred doesn’t feel so simple.

( . . . )

After that fight, Charles pulls back a bit. He stops provoking her so much, but Y/n misses it. This deeply irritates her.

Until one night, before an important race, she finds him alone in the pits, sitting with his arms crossed, staring at the car.

Without thinking, you approach him.

“So, you think sometimes too. I thought you only talked nonsense.” You say, stopping beside him.

Charles smiles, but doesn’t make a joke.

“Hey, what’s up, idiot? You’re way too quiet.” Her question makes him sigh.

You frown.

“Tomorrow’s gonna be tough,” Charles murmurs.

She frowns.

“You always say that, and in the end, you go speeding like there’s no tomorrow.” You respond, rolling your eyes, stating the obvious.

He lets out a heavy sigh and rubs his face.

“This time it’s weird. I’ve been feeling bad since yesterday, like I have a fever or something.” His words make you worry, but you don’t show it.

“What?”

“If they find out, they won’t let me race. So you’re the only one who knows, and if you tell anyone, you’re done.” He says jokingly, and you cross your arms, skeptical.

“So you’re gonna hide this until you pass out in the car? Great plan.”

Charles gives a slight smile.

“I thought you’d like the idea. If I pass out, you can finally get first place.” You roll your eyes, but inside, you feel a strange tightness in your chest. He was really sick. And still, he was there, ready to race.

You sigh. You didn’t understand why this feeling of worry, especially since, above all, you hated each other, right? Of course, you hated each other, and could never be friends.

“You’re an idiot. But a fast idiot.” Charles turns his face to Y/n, surprised by the concern.

“That was the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Charles says sincerely, and you just roll your eyes as if you hadn’t said anything, but the truth was that you were really “kind,” and you didn’t understand why.

“Don’t get used to it,” you say bluntly.

But when you leave, you hate admitting that something between you two has changed.

And you didn’t know what it was.

( . . . )

The heat inside the car was suffocating, and Charles felt the sweat trickling down his neck as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. His body felt heavy, the fever draining his strength, but he couldn’t back down.

On the radio, the voice of the team sounded distant.

“Charles, how are the conditions?” The engineer asks, as usual.

He presses the radio button, trying to sound normal.

“Everything’s under control.”

Lie.

Nothing was under control, and Charles knew it, but he couldn’t admit it. The race seemed to last longer than expected, every corner demanding more from him than he was used to. His vision seemed blurry at times, but he was already here, and there was no way to quit.

A few laps later, Y/n had already noticed something was wrong. She saw Henrique in the rearview mirror, struggling more than usual to keep pace. He wasn’t driving with his usual aggression.

“Shit, he’s worse than he seemed yesterday,” you think to yourself, growing concern building up.

You grip the steering wheel, frustrated with yourself. Why were you worrying about him?

On lap 38, a mistake. Small, but enough.

Charles brakes too late in a corner and ends up sliding, losing position to Y/n. You pass him, but, when glancing at the car beside you, you see his hand trembling on the steering wheel.

He won’t make it through the entire race.

Y/n’s engineer’s voice comes through the radio:

“Good job, P2 now. Keep pushing the leader.” Your engineer says happily, but you weren’t on the same level of happiness.

You should be satisfied. But, for the first time, you weren’t.

When the race ends, Charles can barely get out of the car. As soon as his feet hit the ground, his legs give out. The fever, the exhaustion… everything hit him at once. He stumbles a little, trying to hide it, but before he can fall, someone catches him.

You.

You hold his arm firmly, preventing him from collapsing right there.

“I knew you were gonna do this shit,” you say, irritated.

Charles lets out a weak laugh.

“And I knew you’d catch me if I fell.” Charles says, cocky, making you roll your eyes, but you don’t let go of his arm.

The journalists notice the scene and begin to approach with cameras and microphones, sniffing out an interesting moment.

Before anyone can ask anything, Y/n steps forward, blocking Charles from their view.

“No questions right now. He needs rest.” You say firmly, but the journalists don’t leave.

Charles looks at you, surprised by the attitude. He didn’t expect this from you, not really.

You look at him.

“Come on, before I regret helping you.” You say, helping him again, making his body lean against yours.

Charles smiles lightly, liking the idea of being close to you.

“That was the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

You sigh, impatient.

“I swear, if you say that again…” you say, impatient, but a slight blush creeping onto your face. Thankfully, you could say it was because of the race.

Charles laughs, but inside, he feels that something between you two has changed.

( . . . )

The deafening roar of the engines had faded, replaced by the cheers and applause of the crowd. You had won. Your first victory in Formula 1.

It was a dream come true, beyond just proving your ability and strength to everyone. You were radiant like never before, a genuine smile on your face.

You were on the podium, holding the trophy, champagne dripping through your fingers. Max and Lando, beside you, were smiling, but you could barely process anything. The world seemed like a blur of emotions and adrenaline. Your first victory after racing against rumors and trying to prove you were capable. And even more so, you were beside people you could trust and count on forever.

It was so rewarding.

The podium ceremony and trophy presentation, you couldn’t have been happier. Lando and Max, without excitement, sprayed champagne on you, celebrating.

When you were finally ready for interviews, you felt someone pull you by the wrist to a secluded spot.

You had seen this scene before, and your heart sank.

“Lando, please don’t tell me it’s another fake news about me,” you murmur sadly, and when you turn, you see Charles.

He says nothing. He just looks at you with an intensity that makes you forget all the confusion around you.

“You did it.” His voice is quieter than you imagined, but there’s a genuine smile on Charles’ face. You laugh, sighing.

“I did it, didn’t I? This is crazy. Doesn’t even feel real!” you say, like a child who just got a candy. You’re so happy, and it captivates your rival.

Charles hesitates for a second. You notice he wants to say something else, but at the last moment, he just smiles and pulls you into a tight, unexpected hug.

This time, you don’t resist and hug him back.

You both pull away from the hug, and the adrenaline runs through your body. Until you hear someone call your name, you quickly say a “see you later” to Charles and leave him there alone, thinking.

Charles’ heart hurt when he saw your fear that there might be more bad news about you.

It was clear Charles had been a jerk to you since he entered Formula 1, but he really didn’t understand why.

Maybe it was because pretending to hate you was easier than saying he loved you.

But he felt guilty instantly when he saw you broken, crying on Lando’s shoulder, when he saw you more vulnerable than ever.

He hated everyone who made you cry, and from that day on, he made a promise to himself: he didn’t want to be that kind of person.

The team decided to celebrate the win with a dinner. Everyone was there – the engineers, the drivers, even some members of the media. You were sitting next to Lando, listening to some nonsense joke he was telling, but you could feel a gaze on you.

When you looked up, there he was.

Charles, across the table, holding a glass, watching you like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

His eyes didn’t shift, not even when you raised an eyebrow, challenging him to say something.

And then, he smiled.

Small, discreet, but the kind of smile that made something inside you tremble.

You swallow hard and look away.

Damn it.

You turn back to Lando to hide it, but soon laugh at a completely absurd joke, laughing the same way Lando did at his own joke.

Later that night, you were outside the restaurant, enjoying the fresh air. The city lights twinkled in the distance, and the muffled sound of the celebration still echoed from inside.

“Running away from your own party?” You jump, startled, as soon as you hear someone behind you.

But as soon as you recognize the familiar voice, your heart skips a beat. You slowly turn around, and Charles is there, hands in his pockets, that intense look again.

“I just needed a moment.” You reply, looking away from Charles, now staring at the ground.

He nods and steps closer, stopping beside you. The silence between you two feels different now. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not easy to ignore either. When you look up again and look at Charles beside you, your heart skips.

Then, he extends his hand and, without warning, brushes a strand of hair from your face.

Your body stiffens. The touch is brief, but the skin where he touched feels like it’s burning. You see when Charles notices. You see when he finally understands.

And then, he smiles again.

“This might be a problem,” Charles says, looking at you with a smile. You just breathe deeply and nod, now looking away at the view in front of you. You can feel Charles staring at you.

( . . . )

In the next race, everything seemed normal. Or at least, it should have been.

You were talking with Lando and Max in the paddock, laughing at some silly thing Lando had just said. The atmosphere was light and relaxed, until you felt that gaze again.

Charles.

He was just a few meters away, arms crossed, listening to an engineer speak, but clearly not paying attention. His gaze was fixed on you. You did everything to hide the nervousness he caused, but your cheeks flushed slightly, and once again, your heart was faltering. You tried to focus on the conversation between the two drivers in front of you, but you failed miserably.

When your eyes met, something shifted. Your breath stopped in your throat, and time seemed to slow down. The only thing you could hear was your heart racing.

He squinted his eyes, as if irritated, leaving you confused. You raised an eyebrow and turned back to your friends. After a few minutes, you felt someone tap your shoulder.

You turned around and saw the person you really wanted to avoid.

“Y/n, can we talk?” Charles said, sounding irritated. You were confused and choked on your own saliva. Max raised an eyebrow, surprised by the interruption. Lando looked at you, puzzled, then looked at Max.

“Now?” You asked, suspicious.

“Now,” Charles said firmly, and you nodded, with no real option.

You said goodbye to the others and followed him to a more secluded spot. Charles took a deep breath, as if trying to find the right words, but in the end, he just blurted out:

“What were you doing with them?” He said bluntly, and you blinked, surprised. You opened your mouth and closed it, not knowing what to say.

“Excuse me?” You responded, still in shock.

“What were you doing with them? Max and Lando,” Charles repeated, moving a little closer to make sure he heard you right. You laughed in disbelief.

“Talking? Laughing? Ever heard of that?” You said, obviously crossing your arms.

He didn’t laugh. He remained serious.

“With Max? With Lando?” He asked again, and you tilted your head, still a little lost in all of this.

“Yes. What’s the problem?” You said innocently, and Charles thought it was cute, but then remembered why he was there.

Charles ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable.

“The problem is that…” He stopped in the middle of the sentence, closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again, now with a determined glint.

“Forget it.” The driver in front of you took a step forward. Now, you were so close that you could smell him, a mix of fuel and expensive cologne. Charles turned around to leave, but you grabbed his wrist, freezing him in place.

“What’s wrong, Charles?” You whispered, your voice softer than you intended.

He hesitated for a moment. But only for a moment.

Then he murmured:

“I don’t like seeing you with them, I don’t know.” Charles shrugged. Your heart raced.

And for the first time, you saw in his eyes what you had only suspected before.

And you stood there for a while, just looking at each other. You sighed, half enjoying the confession, but it made you even more lost.

Then, without warning, Charles stepped closer, and again, you smelled him. You were only a few centimeters apart.

“C-Charles?” You called him.

“Yes?”

“What is this?” You asked, but completely lost in the proximity.

He didn’t answer. He just took a step forward, closing the distance between you. His hand found your face, hesitant at first, but firm enough for you to feel the warmth against your skin.

And then, without waiting any longer, Charles kissed you.

It wasn’t a rushed or uncertain kiss. It was something intense, charged with everything that had been hanging in the air for so long—unspoken teasing, glances that lasted a little too long, words never said but always felt.

You kissed him back without thinking. One of your hands grabbed his shirt, as if you needed something to hold on to. The other found his neck, feeling how he leaned in even more toward you.

The world around you disappeared.

It was just him. Just the two of you.

And when you finally pulled away, your faces still close, your breaths mixing, Charles smiled. That crooked, teasing smile, but now it was different—there was something more there now.

“Now tell me… are you still going to pretend this means nothing?”

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you didn’t look away. With a small smile, he gently ran his thumb across your cheek before adding, almost like a whisper:

“Because I can’t, I can’t pretend and deny what I feel for you, Y/n.”

( . . . )

The tension between you two had only grown since that conversation, that kiss. You couldn’t deny your mood had undoubtedly improved.

Now, minutes before the race start, you were on the grid, mentally reviewing the strategy, trying to concentrate. But your mind kept drifting back to Charles.

Then, he appeared. The red suit, the determined eyes, but at the same time… different.

He approached without hesitation.

“Good luck, Y/n,” you loved the way he said your name.

You smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Do I need it?” You asked, laughing, and Charles smiled.

He shrugged.

“No. But I needed an excuse.”

You furrowed your brow.

“An excuse for what?” You asked innocently again, and Charles smiled.

And then, again, without warning, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss on the corner of your mouth.

Not a full kiss. Just a touch, a test.

But it was enough to take your breath away.

Before you could react, he was already pulling away, putting on his helmet, and heading to his car. He turned to you and winked.

You stood there, frozen.

Lando, who had seen everything, whistled. You looked at him, lost, your face turning as red as a tomato.

“That was interesting,” he said, crossing his arms. You hit his arm.

Lando laughed and raised an eyebrow. “When were you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what, Norris?” You said impatiently.

“That you two are… like this,” he pointed to you and then to Charles.

“Like what?”

“Like this!” Lando said, and you rolled your eyes. “Come on, Y/n, you used to hate each other, and now he comes and kisses you in front of everyone, not even embarrassed.”

You couldn’t respond, just shrugged.

Because, in that moment, one thing became absolutely clear.

This was no longer a game.

( . . . )

You won.

Again.

But this time, the only thing you wanted wasn’t to lift the trophy or spray champagne.

It was to find Charles.

And he knew that.

As soon as the ceremony ended, you felt a hand on your wrist. He pulled you into a corner, away from the cameras, the journalists, any distractions.

His eyes were shining, but it wasn’t just from the race.

“How many more times are we going to pretend this isn’t happening?” Your chest tightened because you knew exactly what he meant.

You exhaled, a small smile forming on your lips.

“I think it’s already enough, right? You kissed me in front of everyone, I don’t think we need to pretend anymore.” You said, smiling like a happy little girl.

His smile grew, full of something new—certainty.

“Good.” And this time, when he leaned in, there were no doubts, hesitations, or teasing.

This time, it was real. And you knew there was no turning back, so you continued.

Charles pulled back and kissed your forehead, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you with love.

“I want to hear that from you.” Charles said, holding your hand.

“Hear what?” You said, pretending not to understand, and Charles groaned, throwing his head back.

“If we’re going to be like this, I’ll say it first. Before anything, I want to apologize for being such a jerk. I thought pretending to hate you was easier than telling you how much I like you.” Charles sighed, and you felt like you were floating. Your heart leaped with joy, and the only thing you could do was hug him, so you did.

“It’s okay, Charles. This can stay in the past.” You said, still hugging him. Charles let go of you and held your waist firmly. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“And besides, I think I like you a little too.”

“A little?” He complained, pretending to be offended.

“Yes, just a little.” You said, showing with your fingers how small the amount was. Charles laughed and gave you a quick kiss.

“You’re going to be my downfall, Y/n.” Charles said, and you kissed him.

[k1mbe3rly]

first of all, your writing is really niceeee💗💗

can i get nam gyu and the reader have been together for a long time, but when they were in the games, the reader got mad at him in the sink when it was just the two of them because of the pills nam gyu took from thanos, and nam gyu cried while she was holding him, burying his head in her neck(? fluff or smthing). i really need this. namgyu is really a masterpiece.

I love you, Nam gyu you cut it out.

You and nam gyu have been dating for awhile now, he’s a good boyfriend and all but the only problem you had with him was that he took drugs, he didn’t take a lot knowing you hated it so he calmed down with it

Both of you got into debt and decided to join the games after a salesman gave yall both a card, so here yall both were, in greenish tracksuits and a number on yalls chest

Nam gyu stayed with you thru out the games but you noticed his friend acting weird, the purple guy was very energetic and almost happy to be here which weirded you out, you watch as they bonded and by the 3rd game you noticed he was acting a bit weird as well

From dancing with him and going in circles to pushing and punching people to get yall into a room

It was until after you you 3 ran into a room panting you leaned against the wall eyeing Nam gyu noticing a bit of redish/yellowish in his eyes, you went up to him grabbing his cheeks making him look at you as he stared into you with confusion, “What is it babe?” he asked you

“Your eyes Nam gyu, why are the corner of your eyes redish?” you asked him with a slight of concern, he chuckled out, “It’s nothing..probably just because i haven’t gotten any proper sleep” he said

You hummed letting go of his face not believing him at all, Nam gyu took a glance at Thanos as Thanos gave him a look raising his eyebrows as Nam gyu laughed out, and that when it hit you, they were both on pills.

After the game you sticked with Nam gyu watching his every move, you got a bit distracted as you ate your food and once you finally looked at nam gyu you noticed him putting a colorful pill inside him mouth, he looks at you giving you a small awkward smile

You scoffed and just continued eating.

The guards let yall both go to the bathroom during lights out as you walked in last, he already felt the small tension between yall as he looked at you with a small look guilt, “What’s wrong?” he asked

You took a minute to answer “Are you taking pills with that guy?” you said, he stared at you fiddling with his sleeves which were always over his hands

“Why are you asking?” he simply said, you stared at him for a moment and frowned a bit giving him a disappointed look “I thought you stopped. Why are you taking them?!” you said raising your voice a bit

“It’s nothing that serious y/n.. they don’t do anything to me” he exclaims, “I don’t care? drugs are drugs nam gyu! why are you letting that guy basically control you!” you yelled out to him

He quickly tensed up as he stood up straight “He’s not controlling me. And just because i took like 2 pills from him doesn’t mean shit, so why are you acting like this!?” he yells back a bit, “Why am i acting like this? You told me you would stop! i trusted you!! I should’ve known you wouldn’t stop. You’re a fucking drug addict Nam gyu!” you yelled out pushing him

He stumbles back with a small glare at you “I’m not a fucking drug addict!!, those pills chill my nerves and that’s why we’re being able to get out of the games alive!” he yelled back, “I rather die than have you take drugs again!? Do you know how terrible you were when you were taking those?! why are you taking them again, do you wanna fall back into that shit hole!?” you told him harshly

He stared at you not answering at all, suddenly he clinged onto you, his arms wrapping around you hugging you, he was shaking a bit, as he nuzzled his head your head a bit, that’s when you felt something wet on your neck, he was crying

You sighed hugged him back, holding him tightly, “I’m sorry y/n..i really am. I just wanna get us both out of here alive, I wanna be able to be with you after this so we can finally be happy again.” He said as your expression softens

“I know me too. But you don’t need those to helps us, it’s just hurting you” You spoke to him softly, “I know..i just thought if I were to take them i would finally feel normal instead of paranoid of losing you. I love you so much i can’t fucking lose you.” he cried into your neck imagining those guards shooting you because he couldn’t save you in time or you failing in a game

“You’re not gonna lose me..we’re gonna get out of here alive i promise, if you just stop letting that guy tell you to pick ‘O’ we would’ve been home. There’s already enough money for the both us. I just wanna go home” you told him

He continue crying, “I promise i’ll get us both out of here. We’re gonna go home i promise. I love you..” he said to you as he looked at you, you smiled softly at him “I love you too.”

He smiled back at you as you wiped his tears, he leaned down kissing you softly and gentle, you kissed him back with that same gentleness as well.

He did keep his word, He got yall both out of there alive and let’s just say yall had a happy ending together

[treatbuckywkisses]

The yearning and tension are so well written:( this made my tummy hurt in the best way😭😭 all mixed in with a very enticing side story this was so incredible it felt like I was really there in the room !!!! 

     Your stomach twisted at the words, the culpability of your actions threatening to eat away at it. Even after everything you said, even after running away from him and deserting him at the fair, he still only wanted to know you were safe. There were so many things you wanted to say. Nothing, however, was a good enough response in your mind. There was nothing you could say that wouldn’t leave a door open for more. No matter what you told him it would either crush his heart or give him hope.      You didn’t dare do either. :( when we start with the angst it really gets me😭 the last part of this is SO good 

     Natasha sighed, her lips in a tight line,” Y/n, you’re joking right? You two have already been something more to each other for a long time now. Please, none of us are blind to how you two favor each other over the rest of us.” You took a second to let her words sink in. idiots in love 💕 I'm a SUCKER 

     But in this case, it was okay, because at least in this case you were the bad guy. You were the heartbreaker and everyone can hate you. No one has to pick sides because you made it easy for them to choose Bucky, and you were okay with that.  baby:( this paragraph punched me in the gut so hard

     Bucky was one of those people. When your eyes locked as you looked out into the sea of the trial audience he sent you a small smile and gave you an encouraging nod. That was all you needed to knock your closing statement out of the park. UGH WHEN IS THE LOVE COMING I'M SICK THEY ARE SO IDIOTS IN LOVE😭😭

     “You’re scared of things changing, but can't you see they already did?” iconic nat always so smart

     There was a slight shifting sound on the other side of the door before he spoke, “Look, these past few weeks I tried really hard to push my feelings away, but I was only getting more frustrated with myself. In pushing my feelings away, I pushed you away and I don’t want that. I miss you,” his voice broke toward the end and he paused before continuing, “I want you—no, I need you to be a part of my life even if it's just as friends. Y/n, don't think for one second I regret taking you on that date because I don’t, but I can’t keep going on acting like we don’t know each other anymore.” shutup im crying:( this is sooooo precious:(((((( my heart is HURTING for him

     You were in love with Detective James Buchanan Barnes. GOOD YES FINALLY😭😭😭😭 IT'S LIKE I CAN BREATHE AGAIN

      The cookies were to sweeten up your apology, which was a long thought-out one you wrote in the notes app on your phone before going to bed. It could honestly rival any speeches you had ever given in court. so relatable (I live in my notes app) 

     The apologies, the loneliness, the anger, the sadness, the frustration, and everything in between melted away leaving only the love that was blossoming between you two behind. I love angst with a happy ending ( this made me physically ill and if I didn't read love soon I would DIE ) this is so cute I love them: ( even though it hurt

love them love you🫶🏻

Conflict of Interest - II

Pairing: Detective!Bucky Barnes x Lawyer!Reader

Summary: After deserting Bucky at the fair, you are left dealing with the consequences. This becomes difficult as you are all assigned to a new case. 

Word Count: 8.5k

Warning(s): crime show level of violence / homicide investigation details / drinking / angst / fluff / mentions of a car accident and injuries, but no major details / slight cursing / anxiety / overthinking / insecurities / lots of back and forth / misunderstandings / angst with a happy ending 

a/n: It has been a while, but part 2 of this beautiful duo is finally out! ❤️ I hope the length of part 2 can make up for how long it took me to finally finish writing it. It’s angsty with a happy ending, although the happy ending doesn’t come so easily. 👀 Thank you for reading! ❤️ Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! 💕

➵ Prequel Drabble // ➵ Part I 

     You tossed and turned in your bed once more, the sunlight peeking through your blinds, disturbing your sleep. The events of last Saturday weighed heavy on you. So much so, that you hadn’t gone to work in the past two days—today would be the third. You claimed you came down with the flu, putting on the best performance you could when Natasha called you. You were never able to lie to her face, but over the phone wasn’t as hard. Eventually, however, you would have to go back. 

     Eventually, you would have to face him. 

     Bucky called you a few times that night after you deserted him at the fair. The guilt set in almost immediately and you were too ashamed to answer him. You managed to read one message before silencing all of the notifications on your phone.

     Can you at least let me know you got home safely?

Keep reading

[universefcb]

↬❥Calm drawing

Hector Fort x Fem!Reader

sy: After a fight with his mother, you ask to paint his tattoo.

a/n: I really hope it's what the person asked for, and I apologize if there are mistakes, English is not my native language.

Based on this request

warnings: Cute, cute, cute, cute. Did I say cute?

He ran his hands through his hair, taking deep breaths to try to calm himself, but the anger still throbbed inside him.

“This isn’t going to end well…” he muttered to himself, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Hector?” His girlfriend’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

He opened his eyes and saw her sitting on the bed, a sketchbook open on her lap and a worried expression on her face.

“What happened now?” she asked, putting the notebook aside and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Hector snorted, throwing himself into a chair in the corner of the room.

“The usual. My mother thinks she can decide everything for me. Who knows what's best for me, as if I were still five years old.”

“Did you guys argue about your career again?”

He nodded, running his hand over his face.

“She thinks I’m wasting my time. That I should be focusing on other things. I’m just trying to do things my way.” She sighed. She’d heard variations of this outburst countless times before. She knew Hector didn’t talk much about his feelings, but when he did open up, it was always about this—the weight of expectations, the need to prove himself.

She stood up and walked over to him, crouching down beside him. Hector and his mother had a great relationship, but their fights over the boy prodigy's career were straining their relationship.

“Do you want to take your mind off things for a bit?” She smiled, caressing her boyfriend��s hands.

“What do you mean?” He looked at her, confused.

She smiled and stood up to grab her paint box from the dresser. Then she pointed at his arm.

“Can I paint your tattoo?” Hector raised an eyebrow. Letting a sideways smile appear on his face.

“Paint my tattoo?”

"Yes. Just for fun. Who knows, maybe it will help to ease this tension?” He hesitated. The tattoo on his arm was something important to him, a symbol he carried with him. But at the same time, the idea seemed so absurd that it almost brought a smile to his face.

“As long as you don’t do anything stupid,” he said, crossing his arms and she smiled in satisfaction.

“Trust me.” Hector let out a surprised sigh as you sat on his lap, making the gaming chair move back a little. And you separated the paints and brushes.

“What are you going to do?” he asked, watching her open small bottles of ink.

In a slow movement, he brought his hand to her waist, squeezing it lightly.

“I haven’t decided yet. I’ll improvise,” she replied, dipping a brush in the blue paint.

The first touch of the cool ink on his skin made Hector shiver slightly, but he soon got used to it. She started with light strokes, filling in the details of the tattoo with soft colors. Little by little, the image on his arm began to take on new life, transforming into a vibrant mix of blues, violets, and golds.

Hector watched the process in silence, feeling his anger slowly dissipate. Her touch was careful, almost therapeutic. With each stroke, he felt his muscles relax.

“How’s it going?” he asked after a few minutes.

“I’m not done yet. It has to wait,” she said, focused.

He smirked. His fingers traced lines on her thigh, making her shiver. Hector threw his head back, feeling a little calmer.

“Who would have thought that painting my tattoo would be your favorite pastime.” You laughed, adjusting yourself against his body, making the chair move again.

“You’re my canvas now. You should be honored,” she joked.

Hector laughed, shaking his head which was still thrown back.

After a while, she stepped back to examine her work. Using a cloth, she made small adjustments, ensuring that the colors blended perfectly.

“There! Now you can look.”

Hector raised his arm and examined the transformed tattoo. Before, it was a monochromatic and serious drawing. Now, it was a true watercolor work of art. The colors flowed organically, giving it a new dimension.

“Wow…” he muttered, impressed.

“Did you like it?” She smiled, satisfied.

“It’s amazing. I never thought I would like this, but… I guess it did me good.”

She rested her head on his shoulder.

“Sometimes we need a little color to remind us that things aren’t just black and white.”

Hector looked at her, and for a moment all the weight of his argument with his mother disappeared. Maybe she was right. Maybe life didn’t have to be so rigid, so full of pressures. Maybe, every now and then, you needed to let someone add a little color.

He smiled before pulling her by the neck and placing several kisses on her lips.

“I love you so much,” he whispered against her lips, and she laughed lightly.

“I love you too, my player.” She ran her hands down his torso, stopping at the bottom of his belly.

He pulled her into another kiss, this time slower and wetter. His tongue entwined with hers, in a beautiful fight for space and a desire to explore every corner.

Their lips parted and they laughed, pressing their foreheads together, just standing there enjoying each other's breathing.

Your like is important and helps me a lot. Don't be a ghost reader!

[00valentina-writes00]

being bratty to vi like being like demanding and stuff how would she react

♡♥︎Vi with a Bratty/Demanding Girlfriend♥︎♡

♥︎ Vi doesn’t put up with much, but if you’re demanding or bratty in a playful way, she’ll get a smirk on her face, knowing exactly how to handle you. She doesn’t mind a little sass, but she draws the line when you start pushing her buttons too far.

♥︎ When you throw a tantrum or act out, Vi’s patience can wear thin quickly. She’ll give you a sharp, no-nonsense look, her arms crossed over her chest. “You better cut that shit out before I have to remind you who’s in charge here,” she’ll warn, voice low and commanding. She knows you’re testing her, and she’s always up for a challenge.

♥︎ If you push her too far, she won’t hesitate to call you out on your behavior, but it’s never in a cruel way. She’s blunt and to the point, saying something like, “I’m not playing this game, babe. Either you chill or I’ll make you chill.” Her tone is firm, but there’s always a glint of amusement in her eyes, like she’s enjoying the back-and-forth.

♥︎ Vi has a strict way of keeping you in line when you get bratty. She’s not afraid to use physicality to remind you of your place, whether it’s a hand on your shoulder to get your attention or her strong grip on your wrist to keep you from pushing her any further. She’s rough around the edges, but it’s always with a sense of control and care.

♥︎ Sometimes, when you’re being particularly bratty, she’ll tease you right back. Vi knows exactly how to push your buttons in return, using her humor and wit to match your energy. “You’re gonna make me do this the hard way, huh?” she’ll say, and before you know it, you’ll be grinning because you know she’s not really mad—she’s just trying to keep you in check.

♥︎ If you start acting out in public, Vi’s not afraid to grab you by the arm and pull you aside, giving you a stern talking-to. “Not here, not like this,” she’ll growl under her breath. She knows you’re testing her, but she’s not going to let you embarrass her—or yourself—over something petty.

♥︎ There are moments when you push her to the edge, and Vi’s patience snaps. She’ll say something like, “I warned you, babe,” before grabbing you and pinning you to a wall or a piece of furniture. Her hand on your throat or a firm grip on your waist keeps you in place, but her eyes tell you that she’s not angry—she’s just asserting control in a way you won’t forget.

♥︎ She has a soft spot for you, though, and after the tension dies down, Vi always makes sure to check in. If you’re sulking, she’ll bring you in for a hug, brushing your hair back or giving you a soft kiss. “You know I love you, right?” she’ll ask, even if she’s still holding a bit of that tough exterior.

♥︎ Vi likes the challenge you bring. A little bratty attitude keeps things exciting for her. She likes that you’re not afraid to speak your mind, even if it means giving her a hard time. It’s something she admires about you because, deep down, she knows that you’re strong-willed and not easily swayed by anyone.

♥︎ When you pout or try to act too stubborn, Vi’s the first to tease you, gently mocking your attitude. “You really think that’s gonna work on me?” she’ll ask with a smirk. “I’ve got more patience than you think, but don’t test me too much.” The tension shifts from frustration to something more playful, and she enjoys the banter you bring to the relationship.

♥︎ She respects your independence and won’t let you get away with manipulation or childishness for long, though. If you’re being too bratty, she’s quick to remind you that she expects maturity from you, and that means stepping up when it matters. “Don’t forget, you’re my equal,” she’ll say, “and I don’t do well with anyone who thinks they can walk all over me.”

♥︎ Vi knows when you’re acting bratty just to get attention, and while she might roll her eyes at the antics, she can’t help but love it. “You think I’m gonna fall for that? I’ll let you keep going for a minute, but I’m gonna make sure you regret it later,” she’ll warn, but you both know she enjoys it in her own way.

♥︎ When you’re demanding, Vi doesn’t mind it as long as you’re being direct about it. She’ll meet you head-on with an equal level of intensity. “What do you need?” she’ll ask, voice firm, but the slightest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. She can’t help but admire your boldness, even if you know exactly how to push her buttons.

♥︎ When you’re sulking, Vi doesn’t let you get away with it for long. She’ll either pull you into a cuddle or distract you with something she knows you’ll enjoy. “You can’t pout for too long,” she’ll tease, “not when I’ve got ways to make you smile again.”

♥︎ Even though Vi is tough as nails, she’s not afraid to let you get under her skin. In fact, she likes that you challenge her—it keeps her on her toes. But don’t mistake that for weakness; when you push too far, she knows exactly how to reign you back in.

♥︎ Vi might act like she’s annoyed sometimes, but you know the truth: she’s deeply invested in you and your relationship. Her rough exterior is just that—an exterior. Beneath it, she loves the fire you bring into her life.

[victoriandrama]

NEWTMAS FANFICS RECOMMENDATIONS

instead of studying for my upcoming exam, i made a list of my favourite newtmas fics..

🫧i only included fics that i’ve read and really enjoyed, with more than around 10k+ words, along with links, word counts, ratings, and some important tags. i didn’t add summaries because the post would be too long

this post will be updated as i read more newtmas fics (feel free to recommend me some��) and soon (i hope), i’ll make another part with newtmas one-shots instead🫶

here’s the list: enjoy!!!

The Blood Culmination - persnickett or @persnickett

Words:250,000 R:Explicit

fix-it, post the death cure, hurt/comfort, newt lives

🩵

Call My Name series - KathSilver or @kathsilver

Words:170,992 R:Explicit

fix-it, time travel, tmr rewrite, newt lives

🩵

can't turn back [I'm haunted] - beardyswrites

Words:49,713 R:Teen

canon divergence au, the scorch trials, evil!thomas (!!!!), work in progress

🩵

Look After You - draronoliver

Words:141,772 R:Explicit

fix-it, post the death cure, hurt/comfort, newt lives but…

🩵

All Too Well - Sanctum_Sanctorum

Words:70,522 R:Mature

fix-it, post the death cure, canon divergence au, Newt lives and Thomas not (or so everyone thinks), happy ending

🩵

Iridescence - FilisMaze or @fili-is-gone

Words:34,942 R:Explicit

canon divergence au, happyhead au, post the maze trails, hurt/comfort, work in progress

🩵

I Don't Want to Watch the World End With Someone Else - FilisMaze or @fili-is-gone

Words:12,837 R:Mature

the last of us au, protective!newt, a lot of hurt, crank!newt

🩵

Good Luck, Babe! - ssseashell or @ssseashell

Words:46,366

college au, roommates, thomas is painfully oblivious, but that’s okay, beautifully written, they’re so cute it hurts, newt is in love

🩵

Fuck You But Also Fuck Me - Mad__Lad or @sadgalwrites

Words:13,455 R:Teen

college au, academic rivals, unresolved sexual tension, they’re dumb, work in progress

🩵

We're just young, dumb and broke, but we still got love to give. - hexxed

Words:8,127 R:General

chat-fic, Newt is an exchange student, work in progress

🩵

all we do is drive. - newtedison or @newtedison

Words:49,008 R:Teen

college au, road trip au, pining, painfully in love and painfully oblivious

🩵

a reason to bleed. - katified or @koolwhipped

Words:48,710 R:Teen

college au, Thomas loves Newt, writer!Newt, hurt/comfort

🩵

Fireworks & Team Spirit - sesquipedalia

Words:65,907 R:Mature

high school au, Thomas is popular, nerd!newt, a lot of fluff

🩵

The Diary of a Broken Kid - FreckledDragon or @freckleddragon

Words:68,143 R:Mature

high school au, thomas finds newt’s diary, then falls in love, hurt/comfort, newt needs a hug

🩵

Therapy Dogs and Comic Books - newtedison or @newtedison

Words:85,028 R:General

modern setting au, high school au, falling in love, newt needs a hug, fluff

🩵

Take My Left With Your Right. - ermdotorg or @ermdotorg

Words:39,220 R:Teen

modern setting au, newt needs a hug right now, thomas is a sunshine, they’re very cute, hurt/comfort

🩵

What is it about you that has commandeered my brain? - stilessstilinskii or @newtsmas

Words:20,297 R:Mature

coffee shop au, barista!thomas, minor brenda/teresa

🩵

Staying Up - lokidiabolus or @lokidiabolus

Words:60,115 R:Teen

Modern setting au, writer!Thomas, editor!Newt, Thomas is IN LOVE, Newt is sassy

🩵

i was the only one who was looking at you - astralpenguin or @astralpenguin

Words:137,896 R:Teen

modern setting au, time travel, slow burn, thomas wants to save everyone (as always), murder and kidnapping, serial killer

🩵

Misplaced Mistakes (You’re the Best Kind) - draronoliver

Words:53,438 R:Mature

modern setting au, FLUFF!, they’re so in love, newt needs a hug, sonya and newt are twins

🩵

No Better Version of Me Than When I'm With You - Introvertedintellect350 or @book-and-music-lover

Words:60,230 R:Explicit

modern setting au, fake marriage, or so they think, Marriage of Convenience, fluff, domestic fluff

🩵

Five Days Until Christmas - ssseashell or @ssseashell

Words:9,175 R:General

modern setting au, christmas time, they’re both in love, beautifully written

🩵

Groundhog Day - lemonjelloarts or @lemonjelloarts

Words:14,496 R:Teen

Soulmates au, they’re so cute

🩵

Nicknames and Coffee Cups

Words:54,073 R:Teen

modern setting au, office au, Thomas is dumb

🩵

break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored - ava_kay

Words:24,723 R:Mature

modern setting au, thomas cheats with newt, newt is stupid, thomas is a mess

🩵

"thanks, hope to see you again" - newtedison or @newtedison

Words:16,890 R:General

modern setting au, pizza and fast food place au, + teresa/brenda, very cute!!

🩵

Seems to Be Our Only Way - RurouniHime or @thegertie

Words:22,368 R:Explicit

modern setting au, second chance, they’re both architects, post-break up, friends with benefits

🩵

Fame, Glory and Baked goods of all kind. - Kestis_21 or @kestis-advent

Words:23,638 R:Teen

bakery au, moviestar!newt, baker!thomas, Thomas is adorable, fluff

🩵

Bitter Yet Bound - ermdotorg or @ermdotorg

Words:198,975 R:Mature

modern setting au, everyone needs a hug (literally), Thomas is crazy in love, angst

🩵

west side - ava_kay

Words:97,511

modern setting au, actor!newt, student!thomas, newt needs a hug (like, really), Thomas is in love, angst

🩵

Are Those Your Webs, Or Are You Just Excited To See Me? - stilessstilinskii or @newtsmas

Words:97,482 R:Mature

spideypool au, deadpool!thomas spiderman!newt, a lot of humour, work in progress

🩵

Trust me one more time - wannabe_holmes

Words:113,088 R:Teen

assassin au, assassin!thomas, wicked is not good, newt needs a hug (now)

🩵

Hangover - IydenKnight

Words:122,282 R:Explicit

hangover au, bachelor!thomas, stripper!newt, janson hate club, a lot of fluff

🩵

Hard Rock - singtome

Words:80,034 R:Mature

Sci Fi au, they’re young and in love, magic rocks

🩵

to our happily ever after - indiffrntnewt

Words:93,346 R:Mature

Royalty au, Prince!Thomas, Newt teaches him sword fighting, very cute!!!

🩵

An Unsinkable Love - beardyswrites

Words:63,287 R:Mature

Titanic au, Thomas is like Rose, Newt is like Jack - but he lives, Teresa is amazing, hurt/comfort

🩵

Love for Blood and Metal - yetanothersimp or @zennedy

Words:10,384 R:Teen

detroit: become human au, android!thomas, detective!newt, + minho and teresa POV, + gally/minho, work in progress

🩵

The Maze Games. - mcfwright1

Words:199,168 R:Explicit

the hunger games crossover, Newt is from one, Thomas is from twelve, jealous!Newt, work in progress 

🩵

[mimikittysblog]

Poly! Ateez: How You Started Dating

Synopsis: Self explanatory but this is where your relationship truly began!

Genre: Fluff and some angst | Headcanons

A/N: This one is pretty long so bear with me 😭 Also if you have any specific requests or questions about their relationship then please just ask! I’d love to answer them!

Tagging: @stay-tiny-things @jaerisdiction @bee-gremlin @gae-ping-boosay @xh01bri @nuggiesnuggetdog04 @buttercup0024 @bigarinotthelilone @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity @heiswan @dalsuwaha @girl-in-love-with-kpop @ateezswonderland @starryjoong-jeongcheollie (Join my Taglist here!)

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

After texting Wooyoung for a bit you finally decided to go out together

Wooyoung sent you the address of this adorable cafe

When you got there though, you didn’t expect Seonghwa, Mingi and San to be there as well

“Oh! Hi everyone!”

“Y/n!!” They practically cheer

Basically what happened was they found out Wooyoung got your number and practically asked you out on a date

So they wanted tagged along

Wooyoung wanted to say no actually

He was scared you’d get overwhelmed

But San made him flustered by kissing him on the cheek

So Wooyoung folded 🤦‍♀️

“Heheh hope you don’t mind they decided to tag along.” Wooyoung said sheepishly

“Oh of course not! The more the merrier is almost always my motto!” You giggle

Oh your smile..

It’s brighter than any star and it makes them so happy

You guys were there and talked for hoursssss! Just having the best of times

You got to learn more about them and vice versa

Each new information you learned really deepened your feelings towards each other

It was exhilarating honestly, albeit a bit scary

It’s just happening so fast and so strong like an oncoming train

None of you would have any other way though.

After a while all of you then agreed to move to a nearby park and have a spontaneous picnic

So Wooyoung along with Mingi and San went to order more pastries while Seonghwa kept you company

While it was just the two of you, you decided to ask Seonghwa something

Throughout the entire day you’ve noticed how close to each other they really are

Like you knew how close kpop groups can be, and how sometimes it’s fanservice but these boys…

It’s just different.

Hanging out with them you can really tell how close they really are

“You guys are really close huh?”

That took Seonghwa aback and he couldnt help but feel a bit worried

“uh y-yeah we are.. we just.. love each other a lot.”

Hearing his answer you knew what he meant

But also hearing how he answered it, you knew it was kind of a sensitive topic so you didn’t want to pry.

So you simply looked up at him and gave him a comforting smile.

“It’s beautiful to see.”

The truth is… none of them are dating yet

Though none of them could deny their feelings and chemistry

But they knew how difficult it would become if they actually confronted it

So they kind of just let it be

The only one who really has a thing going on is Wooyoung and San

But they never really put a label on it

They hooked up one night after all the tension build up and ever since then they just.. became “official” but not

It’s complicated

But their “relationship” also didn’t really stop them from hooking up with the others

Actually most of them have hooked up with each other

Some are a bit afraid to take it that far though

Jongho for example once got caught up in a makeout sesh with Yeosang but he didn’t feel ready or comfortable

It wasn’t Yeosang’s fault!

He’s just never been a touchy guy and he’s just now facing the reality that he has feelings for one of his members

Possibly more…

Yeosang understood so they stopped and just cuddled and talked a bit

Though he was still kinda riled up

So the next day Wooyoung was happy to help him out

Mingi also finally confided in Yunho about his feelings one time

Yunho knew.

Everyone did.

But Yunho didn’t know what to do due to his beliefs and upbringing

So he held back his tears and just gave Mingi a long passionate kiss

Whispered a soft “I’m sorry” and just left it at that

Mingi knew what Yunho meant with that kiss

It’s the best Yunho could give to him (at the time)

It’s Yunho’s way of telling him that he feels the same but he can’t act on it

Mingi of course respected that but he was heartbroken

He confided in Seonghwa soon after and asked him to distract him

Seonghwa was also happy to help

While they were often paired up and at first gravitated towards a certain member

They still found themselves deeply connected with everyone else outside of this natural pairing

Like while Hongjoong had that married vibe with Seonghwa, he couldn’t deny his feelings for Yunho from the first moment they met

Seonghwa also wanted nothing more than to always take care of and love Yeosang

Yunho adored Mingi from childhood but Wooyoung was always able to bring the feeling of comfort to him

Yeosang treasured Jongho but he’d also do anything for Hongjoong

San couldn’t imagine a life without Wooyoung, while he also cherishes Seonghwa like diamonds

Mingi has an incessant need to make sure Jongho is safe from harm all the time

Wooyoung would move heaven and earth for Mingi

And Jongho will forever admire San and everything he does

And whats listed here is just the tip of the iceberg

It goes for everyone and honestly runs deeper than what words can describe

It’s all just a big mess right now

Their jobs and society has made it all too difficult for them

But they all knew what they felt was real.

Even with the unknowingness of it all, they’d still do anything for each other.

…And possibly you.

“..yeah you think so?” Seonghwa asks back

“Of course! Like I said, the more the merrier. I see no reason to put a limit on a beautiful thing such as love.”

Seonghwa was really touched.

“Society has put useless and cruel rules on everything. Especially love. And For what? Power? Money? God knows. It’s frustrating.. but I don’t think it should stop us. It’s what makes us human. And hey!” You say before looking back up at him.

“Some rules are meant to be broken.”

Seonghwa honestly felt his brain chemistry being altered 🤯

And after about a week since your hang out, he still couldn’t get your words out of his head.

He decided that it’s finally time to really confront their feelings.

No matter how complicated.

No matter what consequences it’ll bring

It just has to happen now.

‘Cause he fears that if it doesn’t, it may never.

So he one night sat everyone down and then just confessed.

“It’s no secret. But It’s best I do say it. I love all of you. Romantically. And i think we really need to talk about how we should go about this. I won’t pressure any of you to do things you don’t want or aren’t ready for. But again.. a clear understanding needs to be had. I don’t think any good will come out of side stepping this anymore.”

To say they were surprised that this was what Seonghwa wanted to talk about would be an UNDERSTATEMENT‼️

To put it lightly, they were hesitant to say anything at first

When in fact they were LEGIT TERRIFIED ACTUALLY

One of them probably almost shat their pants, they were that scared.

So the room was silent for a while after Seonghwa first spoke

But then in a blink of an eye, everything came spilling out

Confession after confession filled the room

Followed by wishes of their hearts desires

And burdens being lifted one after the other

They all spoke about their true feelings in this vulnerable moment

All except one.

“..Yunho..?”

At the call of his name he looked up with tears in his eyes.

“..I-I need time..”

He says with a shakiness the boys have never heard from him

“alone.”

And with that he just got up and left.

Leaving the boys absolutely concerned with an indescribably tightness in their hearts.

Belief is a fickle thing that one

What he’s feeling…

What the members are feeling and doing..

It wasn’t what he was taught.

So he’s lost

It wasn’t like he hated the members or anyone for their sexuality

He could never hate them for anything

He was actually more jealous.

He felt jealous that he couldn’t act upon what he was truly feeling

When Mingi confessed to him that night he has never felt more sad and never cried harder

He wanted nothing more to yell out to the world how much he loved Mingi..

How much he loved all of them.

His belief always brought him comfort and it was never something that felt restrictive thankfully

So when this happened..

The first ever time his belief caused him to feel like this..

His mind and heart feels like it’s in tatters.

He needed an answer or some kind of sign!

So now he’s walking to the nearest church

Already praying for his God to tell him what to do

And when he almost arrived, thats when he spotted none other than you

You were just about to enter a small little cafe that was just near the church

She looks beautiful with the moonlight shining on her…

Is this the answer..? The sign?

It couldn’t have been just a coincidence that the one person who also has been shaking his heart and wasn’t there at the dorms happened to be right there in front of him when he was looking for an answer.

So he walked up to you hoping that you were indeed the answer

“Y/n…”

“Yunho..?! Omg Yunho! Hai!”

When you noticed his distressed state you quickly invited him in to sit with you at the cafe

You told him you’ve always wanted to try this cafe out but never had the time

Yet for some reason on this particular night you decided to finally try it out..

“So.. What are you doing here? ..oh! There is a church nearby! Were you going there?”

You asked with such concern and softness that he couldn’t help but let the tears spill

Not just the tears but his feelings as well

He told you everything, what happened with the members, how he feels, and his conflicts within

“I-I.. I just don’t know what to do… I.. I love them.. I do… so much!! But.. can i?”

You’ve followed Ateez for the longest time and yet you’ve never seen this sunshine of a boy so broken

This must be that difficult for him

So you held his hand as gently as you possibly could before speaking just as gently.

“Yunho.. I’ll tell you what I told Seonghwa… Love is a beautiful thing. And it shouldn’t have limits.”

Those words touched Yunho as much as it touched Seonghwa.

However you then went on to explain how you didn’t want this experience to sway his faith

You told him how admirable his dedication to his faith is and how it helped mold him to be the person he is today

Finally you explained how while that was your answer to his question, he still needs to answer this on his own.

“Whatever the answer will be… remember it shouldn’t be hurting you in the long run. Coffee is on me this time Yunho. I hope you find it and get home safe okay?” You tell him softly

You then softly wiped one of his tears that was still flowing, got up, payed and left.

He thinks he found it.

He still decided to stop by the church though

He prayed and confessed one last time about how he truly felt about everything and begged for one last sign.

A sign to tell him that he’s mistaken, that if this truly wasn’t the answer then tell him now.

Yet nothing came.

Well there was one…

But it wasn’t exactly the sign he was asking for

But one he needed.

When he entered the dorms again, Mingi was there waiting for him on the couch.

The boy who he first had feelings for.

“Yunho…”

He knew that this was his answer too.

He wasn’t gonna hold back anymore.

So without hesitation he raced to Mingi, grabbed his face and gave him a passionate kiss where he poured everything into it.

“I won’t hold back anymore. I want to love you all. No limits.” He confesses softly

From there the two went to bed together

And made love actually 🥹💕

Then the next morning he called for another meeting and official confessed how he truly felt.

Asking for all of them to be together

And just like that they made it official 🩷

The next day after that, you received another text from Wooyoung asking to meet up again

Which of course you happily agreed to!

Yet when you arrived this time, all of them were there too.

And they were oh so happy to see you.

Their catalyst.

You all had a wonderful time once again

And by the end of the day, you went from having 0 boyfriends to 8 just like that

You lucky dawg 🤭

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

© mimikittysblog 2025

[hyuny-bunny]

seasons // series

part v

summary: when the real threat of losing you to someone else becomes reality, what will minho do?

warnings: mentions of sex, female masturbation

part iv • masterlist

Seeing him sit outside your door, almost as disheveled as you was the last thing you expected. He was wearing those godforsaken grey sweats again with a t shirt and flannel. The way his eyes raked up your body taking in your appearance made you feel small, seeing he was already dissecting every inch of you to figure out where exactly you had been.

"You weren't answering your phone... I figured if I sat out here you'd come out eventually..." He trails off, the question about where you were hangs off his tongue.

There's a brief pause as you hold his gaze trying to decide if you should answer with an explanation or another question. Silence follows as you move to your apartment door, opening it for both of you to step inside. If he wanted answers, he would have to work for it.

"... where.... where were you?" He said looking at you still trying to decipher what's happening at this very moment.

"I... I stayed the night with a guy I met last night."

The tension was thick as you swallowed, meeting his gaze. His face remained stoic, any hint of disapproval or disgust or anger was undetectable. He just nodded once as if to say he understood that was enough to answer his question.

"I'm sorry.. for not calling or texting to let you know I was fine... I'm also sorry for exploding on you yesterday. I know you didn't mean to be hurtful."

He nods softly looking down before speaking up.

"I'm really sorry for what I said... I just want you to be safe.. and happy most of all... Since, you seem fine, I'll head home."

He turns his back to you heading for the door.

"Minho.." He stops in his tracks looking up at you, keeping that stoic face. "You don't have to go... so soon..."

He sighs before walking over to you, he brings you in for a small hug before patting your shoulder.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

It's all he gives you as he walks out leaving you standing in the middle of your apartment, somehow feeling guilty. His lack of a reaction felt jilting.

-

Minho went straight home, changing into gym clothes. He grabbed his bag, heading straight to the place he knew he could get out his frustrations in a safe way.

Throwing punch after punch into the body bag that swings from the ceiling. It isn't until Chan intervenes that he stops, the older warning him he needs to stop before he breaks his hand. Out of breath and sweaty, he reluctantly sits on the nearby bench where Chan watches as he takes off the glove revealing a very irritated hand, skin littered with popped blood vessels that would turn into bruises soon.

"What's up with you?" Chan knew him all too well, he could always tell the difference between Minho coming to work out to get a work out in versus the beaten down version of Minho that sat in front of him.

"She... She went out yesterday and this morning when I went by her apartment, she was coming back from staying the night at someone's place...."

Chan was fully aware of the longstanding feelings Minho had for you. He had known for years. Watching him get into a few relationships hoping to fill the void of not being able to have you as a romantic partner. Or whenever you got into a relationship and Minho would sulk like a battered cat. Chan sighs as he looks ahead.

"Okay, let me ask you this, why is it any different now then when she was dating someone?"

Minho can't meet his gaze.

"You know her better then anyone else, it was a fling, a one night stand that probably meant nothing-"

"She never stays the night." Minho's voice cuts him off.

"What?"

"She never stays the night, she always gone home after. So she either she liked it enough... or liked him enough... to stay until the morning."

"That doesn't mean anything, she could've been too tired to go home or.." Chan stops himself realizing whatever rational explanation he gave him wouldn't console his pouty friend.

"I just want her to see me... see me as someone who can be there to take care of her... Someone who could actually love her the way she deserves..." Minho trails off looking down.

"You can't keep sulking like this every time there's a slight chance that she either gets a boyfriend, which I am not implying that this is what this is, or starts to find interest in someone else... Either fess up or live with this reality."

Minho stares at his hands as bruises bloom over his knuckles. He huffs before standing up heading to the showers.

-

You stir the sauce around in the pot as the smell of sage & butter waft through the place. You can't help how easily you find Minho's scent pushing through even as you cook, it was almost nauseating. You place a headphone in your as you continue talking to Hyunjin on the phone. He was busy tonight and well... your body needed time to recover.

"I have a question and you can't make fun of me or laugh," You say as you take a clean spoon tasting the sauce before moving to put your gnocchi into the pan with the sauce."

"Okay, what's your question?" He asks hearing you stir the pasta around through phone, he imagines what you're wearing as you cook.

"When you asked me about the last time I had sex..." You say hesitantly waiting for him to laugh.

"Yeah, what about it?" He says matter of factly as he recalls the event.

"How... How did you know that I hadn't... in a while? Is that some sort of Alpha instinct that's kept secret?"

He stifles his laugh at the 2nd question not wanting to break the promise he agreed to.

"No, not necessarily... It's the same as when you kiss someone who's never kissed anyone before. You just kinda... feel it?"

"Are you say I was bad in bed?" You ask teasingly.

"God, no! It's just... I could sense... it had been a while and... I never thought of myself as someone who was stellar at sex but at minimum I know how to pleasure my partner," he pauses for a moment before continuing, "So with you, I thought you were either just really sensitive or... it had been a while... so when I asked it wasn't because I knew but just needed to reaffirm my initial... assumption."

"I don't know if I should feel offended or not.." You joke trying to come off as reassuring him that you were prodding for answers.

He didn't come off as some typical macho Alpha who thought of himself as a sex god but it was reassuring to know he knew himself well enough to be able to pleasure his partners.

The two of you continued to talk as you had your dinner with a small glass of wine to unwind a bit.

"I should probably let you go, have to prepare for my stuff for my classes tomorrow." You say with a sigh feeling a bit warm from the wine that made your cheeks tinge with a warmth that felt like the sun beaming down on you.

"When can I see you again?" He asks with a stupid grin that you can hear through the phone.

"Hmm... How about Friday night?" You ask in a flirty voice.

"Killing me here, I don't think I can wait that long..."

"First week back is always a bit chaotic so you'll just have to survive!" You tease as you stretch from your seat at the dinner table. He laughs warmly before reluctantly agreeing.

After letting him go from the call you clean up the mess from your dinner packing it away for a lunch for you and Minho tomorrow, an olive branch lunch that's packed with the a blueberry muffin you made for the morning. Food and gift giving was a mutual language between the two of you, that often meant gifting each other lunch or sweets.

You finally make your way to bed staring up at the ceiling as you try to get comfortable. You scroll through instagram for a bit swiping through peoples stories before you're forced to do a double- no, triple take at Chan's story. Chan was a friend of Minho and Jisung that you hung around often when you had group outings or house parties for 3Racha's demo releases. You had grown a bit closer to him with every time you saw him, he was another Alpha who had an understanding for your frustrations for other alphas of the male population.

The video was Minho boxing, repeatedly hitting a body bag... wearing was quite possibly the sluttiest thing a man could wear to the gym. It was a black compression shirt that the gave the perfect outline of his tits pecs in the shirt. There were very few occasions you had seen true anger or frustration from Minho, but it was obvious he was heated as he took repeated swings to the body bag that swung from the ceiling with the force of every hit.

Would it be wrong to admit how incredibly turned on it made you to see every muscle in his arms engaged making his pec's move and his stature seem so much bigger?

Either way it didn't stop you from you from watching it over and over until you felt the familar wetness pool in your underwear. Forcing you to reach beneath the fabric as you turned over rubbing your clit while imagine what it'd be like for him to fuck you with same aggression he took out on that body bag. Even as you orgasmed you couldn't help choking out his name in a whimper muffled by the pillow.

-

The next morning Minho came by to pick you up, driving you both to campus as you had worked out your schedules to work out so that you two would either start at the same time and likely end your days at the same time. He waited down stairs outside of his jeep waiting for you to come out, he always parked and stepped out to be the one to open your car door.

He watched you emerge with your shoulder brown satchel bag on and a bag of what looked like food. His eyes took in the way your hair perfect fell around your face, the perfectly slouched light wash of jeans and white buttoned blouse.

"Good Morning, Min, ready to deal with the nightmare of parking on the first day back?" You ask teasingly as you walk up to his side. He gives you a soft smirk rolling his eyes as he opens the door for you letting you climb in to the car waiting for you to settle before closing it and getting into the driver seat.

He wore his typical, light wash of jeans with an oversized grey hoodie that always looked so much cozier on him then anything else. It was typical for him as he didn't always want to wear sweats despite being a dancer needing the free flow of the material.

"The only thing I'm looking forward to is finally being able to choose good songs for the choreographies this year." He says as he starts the car.

Minho had recently stepped up into the role as captian of their dance crew this year. He was nominated by the last captain and most of his juniors, surpassing some of the seniors in which it would've been their last year to lead as captain. He had been the youngest member to get the position in the last 10 years.

"Oh that's right! What time are you supposed to meet today?" You ask as you open the bag of food you had brought.

"3:30pm, I'll be going over the rules and expectations then getting the new dancers settled in. I'm a bit nervous about getting them to see me as a leader of the group now.." He grips the steering wheel a bit tensely.

"It'll come with time but I'm sure you got it. And if they don't, then they're free to go else where if they don't like it." You say offering him words of encouragement. He glances over giving you a soft smile thanking you.

The car is filled with chatter and laughter, an easy feeling, a stark contrast to what yesterday felt like. A mutual unspoken understanding between the two of you to move forward. He finds parking in a building near your class as, before getting out you hand him the lunch you made him.

"Here, your lunch and a blueberry muffin of apology..." You say a bit quieter than you meant.

"Apology? For what?" He tilts his head taking the food staring at you with those endearing brown eyes.

"I don't know.. I just felt guilty about how worried I made you..." You say looking at him a bit solemnly.

"You don't need to apologize for anything, I was an asshole... However, I still will be devouring this muffin with or without an unnecessary apology." He says gleefully as he takes a bite moaning dramatically as the taste hits his mouth, making you laugh as he makes a mess of himself.

He couldn't help but feel simultaneously guilty and warm at the idea that you felt so bad that you needed to bake him a muffin for him to feel remedied. His dramatic eating of the muffin made the unease you felt from the day before lighter.

The two of you walked towards the english building, light chatting as he threw an arm around your shoulder pulling you close to him. Minho enjoyed the feel of you close against him knowing once you pulled away, the scent would be all over him for the rest of the day. The sweet smell of dark cherries and almond bitters that made him feel like he just walked into a bakery. He kisses the top of your head before parting ways, it was something he did often but this time it made your heart do a flip.

Moving through your classes with much ease, it's around 4pm you finish the last. You walk through the campus, taking in the breeze that blows through the shaded areas as the sun sits still high in the sky. You find the arts building, sitting on an empty bench with a book as you decided to wait for Minho to finish his dance class. You glanced through the window looking to see Minho at the head of the class leading, he looked like he was starting to go through the choreo he had made a few weeks ago to start the class on. You can see Felix's blonde hair bobbing around making you laugh as you see his half ponytail flopping around with every move.

Your laughing is cut short as you gasp for air seeing Hyunjin's reflection in the mirror dancing beside Minho. His body moving fluidly as he follows Minho's instructions, you duck down beneath the window contemplating on running away. It's too late for decision to be made as Jisung begins to approach about to yell your name in typical Jisung fashion. Abandoning your belongings on the bench as he begins to pass approach the open door that leads directly into the dance room, as you approach Jisung at a desperate speed to clamp your hand over his mouth, it's too late as he utters the first letters forcing you turn just in time to become in line of sight of Minho and Hyunjin who glance in your direction. They both wave with a smile on their face before the realization hits that their eyes are on the same person.

part vi

[concretejunglefm]

I'm not ready to let you forget me (part 4).

*edit credit goes to the lovely @defuckingthrone-dot-com

You told your friends you want me dead And said that I did everythin' wrong And you're not wrong

An anon request for lovers to enemies -> playlist, part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5.

Summary: It’s been two years since Noah cheated on you, abruptly ending your relationship. However, the universe seems to have a peculiar sense of humor in its plan to reunite you.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader.

CW: Mentions of cheating, Noah can be an overall asshole and a tad bit of angst. Unwanted touching/groping/kissing, implied further S/A (male victim) via intoxication and mentions use of GHB. Please remember to take care of yourselves and be safe.

WC: 3.9k.

Dividers: Silent-stories.

The next day is your final full day here. By Monday morning, your trip would end, and you’d return to your usual mundane life. Instead of embracing the time you had left, you spent it sulking, wallowing in self-pity over the sting of betrayal you felt from Noah and the rest, but especially Sloan.

You never imagined your best friend would pull you back towards the guy she knew had shattered your heart.

When she tried to talk to you through your hotel room door that morning, you ignored her and hid until later that afternoon, after finishing off the bottles in your hotel room minibar.

As you exit your room, you catch Folio standing at the door to his room beside yours. You consider not disturbing him and trying to slip past, but you have no reason to be upset with him. Besides, his boyish grin always made you have a softer spot for him.

You clear your throat before speaking. “How did the show go?” Their festival performance was today, and while you knew Sloan would be there, probably stageside with how close she and Jolly had gotten over the weekend, you decided to ignore her invitation: “When you’re ready to stop being mad at everyone, you can join me at the festival.”

You weren’t mad at everyone; just Sloan, Noah, Jolly, and maybe even Nicholas with his recent behavior and invitations to both of you. Folio, as well as Matt, was probably the only one you hadn’t yet found a reason to be mad at.

“Crushed it, obviously,” he says with such pride that it makes you laugh. “Can’t do a show without crushing.” His response shouldn’t surprise you; he always took pride in his performances and his ability to improve with each one. “We were planning to go to one of the escape rooms later. You should join us.”

“Oh, I don’t—“

“Come on. It’s your last night here, right? You really want to spend it wallowing in your room?”

“Well I planned to do it down at the bar, actually.” You laugh. “Besides, I really don't think it's a good idea seeing Noah right now. I imagine him and his ex performing today made them pretty cosy, especially after the other night.” You roll your eyes at the thought and do your best trying not to appear irritated by it. You fail.

“About that…” There’s a near guilty expression on Folio’s face which causes your eyebrows to narrow.

“Yes?”

“It's not what you think. She wasn't… that wasn’t... Noah was with me the whole night.”

You scoff and shake your head. “You don't have to defend him Folio, he’s a big boy.” It almost doesn't surprise you that Noah would rope one of his friends into lying for him, into defending him when he was in the wrong.

“I’m not! We were together the whole night. The banging and the moaning you heard, that was us. He said it would be funny and I stupidly agreed.”

“Oh…” The tension in your body fades as the irritation you felt before now slowly dissipates with nowhere for it to be aimed. You'd have gladly held it over Noah for the rest of time, but if it hadn't been true, how can you?

“Like I say, I really think you should consider joining us today. It’ll be fun.” 

It's the last thing he leaves you with before slipping into his own hotel room and you actually find yourself considering it. 

You caved, and as soon as you enter the escape room, Sloan greets you with a usual sarcastic remark, breaking the pout you had been wearing and forming a smile. 

You couldn’t stay mad at her, and you hoped none of this was intentional. However, you knew you needed to talk to her sooner rather than later to prevent yourself from overthinking it.

“Ladies first,” Jolly says, gesturing towards the open door of the escape room.

Stepping inside, you find it to be a replica of a music studio, fitting for a band that had just finished a show.

Turning back towards the door, instead of seeing Sloan or anyone else enter, Noah follows and you catch Sloan’s apologetic expression as she mouths an ‘I’m sorry’ to you.

At that moment, the door closes, and your eyes widen in realization.

Crossing over to the door, you try to open it despite hearing the distinct click of the latch locking into place. “Sloan, this isn’t funny,” you call through the door, but her muffled response only adds to your frustration.

“You both really need to talk.”

You shoot a glance at Noah, your eyes narrowing. “Was this your idea?”

He chuckles and holds up his hands. “Don’t blame me. I had no idea they were going to do this. I didn’t even think you’d want to come after last night.”

“I didn’t,” you grumble, almost angry with Folio for tricking you into coming.

While Noah sits in a nearby chair, you start searching the room for clues or any way to escape.

Your brief search yields to nothing, and you grow more frustrated with Noah for not helping you. “Are you really just going to sit there and not help?”

“Why should I? I thought you worked better alone anyway,” he retorts.

You scoff. He really chose his moments to be difficult. Trying to ignore him, you resume your search, but come to a halt as the familiar chords of ‘Just Pretend’ start playing. Out of all the props in the room, he had to pick up the guitar and see if it could work.

It makes you roll your eyes to hear that song. Even though you've been avoiding the band for the past two years, you've heard it thanks to TikTok and the millions of girls who’ve been obsessed with calling it ‘the perfect love song’. It’s far from a love song, and you don’t delude yourself into thinking it could be about you. But right now, as you hear the change in lyrics, you can’t help but wonder if it could be.

Stepping towards where he’s sitting, you lower yourself slowly onto the edge of the near by chair and listen. He’s completely engrossed in the song, but his voice sounds a lot more broken and raw than it ever does when he sings it live.

Sloan had said that you both needed to talk, and maybe she’s right.

When the song ends, you take a moment to gather your thoughts before breaking the silence. “Folio told me that what happened the other night is ‘not what I think.’” You pause, your gaze settling on Noah, who avoids meeting yours. “He said you were with him all night and that she wasn’t there.”

“Yeah, well, Folio needs to mind his own business.”

“He’s only looking out for you,” you say, feeling the need to defend him. You know it was coming from a place of care for both you and Noah. “Why did you act like you were with her?”

Noah shrugs. “Thought it would be funny.”

“No, I don’t buy it,” you say.

Sighing, he finally resigns himself, if only slightly. “I thought it would make you talk to me. Even if it meant you were angry, you’d at least stop ignoring me.”

“And you couldn’t think of a better way to do that?”

“What can I say, I’m an asshole,” he admits, his voice devoid of gloating. He sounds defeated, as if he’s accepted being tarnished with that label.

“You weren’t always like that,” you say, your voice softer. Your fingers twitch, itching to reach for him but hesitant to offer him any form of comfort beyond your words. “And you didn’t have to become an asshole to get me to talk to you.”

“Really?” His gaze finally meets yours. “Because you ignored me every chance you had.” He slides forward towards the end of his seat, pushing down and onto the floor, coming onto his knees in front of you, reaching for your hand. 

Every other time he tried to reach for you during this trip, you pulled away, refusing to give him even a chance to get close. But this time, you let him take your hand in his own. 

“Call me an asshole all you want. Tell me you hate me. Tell me you never want to see my face again. Just never stop telling me those things. I hated these last two years without you, and I can’t go back to not hearing your voice ever again.”

This time, he’s down on his knees in front of you, and it’s not because of any request or attempt to humiliate him. There’s a genuine apology written across his face, and you hear it in his voice—the way he grows soft, almost desperate to not let you go again.

As much as you want to forgive him, to let him back in, even at a distance, you can’t shake the memories of what happened. Between him ghosting you, the pictures and videos of him and his ex, and the sound of her voice in his room the other night, it pains you to even consider letting any of that go unaddressed. But the thought of asking about it makes your throat tighten.

“What happened?” You finally choke out and his head, which he had lowered to rest against your lap, finally raises and he looks up at you. “With… her. What happened? You went on tour with her and then you ghosted me.” 

You sound more emotional than you mean to and you force a laugh trying to push the urge to cry back down because you’ll be damned if you sit here crying to your ex, over him, in some stupid escape room.

Noah doesn’t answer, instead he pulls himself back away from you, his head lowered, chin tucked against his chest as he slides back onto the chair, avoiding looking at you.

“God, if you cheated on me could you atleast have the balls to admit it.”

“I don’t know.” He mumbles.

“That’s such a poor excuse.”

“I don’t know.” He says it more firmly and finally lifts his head to look across at you. “We were all out. I had something to drink and the next thing I remember I was waking up in her bed.”

You can’t help the scoff you let out, shaking your head because it feels like he's using every cliche and excuse right now. “So you got drunk and hooked up with your ex? Then felt too ashamed to even tell me so you ghosted me?” Your voice slowly rises a few octaves, despite you not meaning for it to. You’re angry and upset and you can’t hold it back.

“It wasn’t like that.” He starts and you continue shaking your head, pushing up out of the chair as you begin to pace the small room, looking back over at Noah.

“Then what’s it like, Noah, huh? Because right now it sounds like you’re just a coward who cheated and couldn’t own up to it.”

“I don’t know, okay? I don’t remember what happened. I don’t know how I ended up there with her, but I did.” His voice sounds strained, like he’s trying to hold himself back from becoming too upset and you see the shimmer of wetness in his eyes.

“Noah?” You move back over to the chair you were sitting in and lower yourself onto the edge reaching for him. 

The moment you do, he’s quick to use the front of his shirt to wipe away the tears which start rolling down his cheeks. 

“You really don’t remember?” You ask, your voice soft as you tentatively reach out to him, laying your hand over his and he silently shakes his head in response.

“She sent me a video.” His voice breaks a little and he clears his throat. “I can guess from there what happened. She threatened to send it to you if I didn't break up with you and get back together with her.”

“And that’s why you ghosted me?”

“That and I was ashamed.” He forces a laugh and it makes your heart break, witnessing this side of him, the side which was often reserved away from everyone, including you.

“Noah did she…” You trail off as he shakes his head in response to your words before shrugging.

“I don’t…” 

You nod and take his hand in your own, raising it towards your mouth as your turn and press a gentle kiss against his palm. You don’t need to press him anymore, you understand.

Whatever happened inside the room must've satisfied Sloan enough to have the door unlocked, because you hear the click a few moments later before seeing it open and your best friend walk in as if she was your savior.

In some ways, maybe she is.

Back at the hotel, Noah retreats to his room, and you can see the dark circles forming around his eyes. After today’s physically and emotionally taxing events, including the escape room, you didn’t object to him needing some alone time. 

While everyone else disperses, Nicholas surprises you with a knock on your door.

“There’s something you need to see,” he says.

You invite him in and watch as he pulls out his phone and steps towards you. He scrolls and taps on the screen until he’s satisfied with what he finds.

“What’s this?” you ask, taking the phone and looking down to see a video open and paused on the screen.

“What really happened,” Nicholas says. “Noah hasn’t seen the full video. Matt managed to get the full thing after talking to a few guys who were there that night.”

Moving across the room towards the bed, you settle on the edge as you take a breath and press play.

You hear the same giggle, the same high-pitched, dragging-out “Nowah” that makes your skin crawl. You really don’t want to watch this, especially when she comes into view. It makes your stomach turn and bile rise up your throat. Why do you want to watch your boyfriend making out with another girl, especially the ex he ghosted you for?

Except that isn’t what starts playing out on the screen in front of you. Noah, who looks barely conscious, is being grabbed and groped by the same girl. Her chest is pressed to his face as she giggles, acting like he’s the one behind the actions when he’s merely a puppet for her amusement.

You want to look away, to turn it off. In your mind, you’ve seen enough, but you can’t stop. The phone trembles in your hands as you watch the rest of the video.

Her fingers rake through his hair, tugging up his heavy head and cooing something almost unintelligible against his lips. Noah speaks enough for you to catch a faint word—your name. It leaves his lips and tightens your chest. Did he think it was you? Did he want it to be? Was he calling out for you? Regardless, your name is quickly dismissed by his ex, who says, “She’s not here right now, baby, but don’t worry, I’ll help you forget all about her.” The moment her lips meet his in a forced kiss, you push the phone back, shaking your head.

“I-I can’t, I’ve seen enough.” You can piece together the same puzzle that Noah did.

In his mind, he believed he had cheated, but the reality was he had been gaslit, shown only the edited version of the video where his ex was all over him and then kissing him. Waking up beside her the next morning made him reach an easy conclusion.

You want to vomit; the thought of everything that happened makes your stomach churn, and it hurts your chest not only for what you saw but also for Noah. The thought of him being burdened by this, holding onto something he thought he needed to be ashamed of and how you treated him, suddenly makes you feel guilty. You shouldn’t have been so hasty to block him, to try to cut him out of your life. What if every spam account he watched you from was his way of trying to reach out? What if he had been trying, but you just pushed him away, driving him further back every time?

“I can see why you haven’t shown him. How long have you had this?” When you look at Nicholas, you can see the struggle in his eyes at trying to keep this from his best friend.

“A few months,” he confesses, twisting his mouth. It’s as if you can see the guilt gnawing at him. “I don’t know if showing him would make things worse.”

“Definitely worse.” You whisper. You knew beneath the hardened cocky exterior was a softer heart, one Noah tried to protect and failing to do so always opened up a possibility for him diving off the deep end.

“Have you spoken to her?” When the question leaves your lips you shake your head, dismissing it yourself. “Sorry, that was dumb, of course you wouldn't.”

“We’ve tried. She refuses to get back to any of us, even her team have now told us to ‘stop harassing her’.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “She's here you know, at the hotel.”

At those words it's like you see red and suddenly every ounce of logic you have dissipates and you’re carrying yourself from your hotel room and downstairs, walking throughout the hotel as if you'll miraculously bump into his ex in the hallway or casino.

On your way, you pick up the addition of Folio and Matt, followed by Sloan and Jolly. Sloan tries to reason with you, but Folio urges you on, as if you’ll start a fight with her.

“What are you going to say to her?” Sloan asks, trying to pull you out of your rage filled trance.

“Nice to meet you. I’m the girl whose life you ruined, just like Noah’s.” You make a vague gesture, causing Jolly to chuckle. You hear a thump from his direction, indicating that Sloan hit him in response.

“You really can’t think confronting her here is a good idea.”

“Why not? She keeps hiding behind her team and everyone else. Better to catch her when she least expects it.”

“I thought you didn’t care about him.” Sloan’s voice is softer this time, and it stops you in your tracks.

You had said that, tried to act nonchalant about him, but now you’re ready to dive headfirst into his battle for what? Because you still cared?

You didn’t have time to debate Sloan’s question, and that all slips away when you catch a familiar face.

Noah’s ex.

She’s surrounded by a small crowd of people you can only assume are part of her crew. You quickly pull away from your group and head towards her, calling out to her.

You don’t know what you expected when you come face to face with her, that somehow you’ll spew everything you’ve been thinking about and holding in since he ghosted you for her, but now you’re left silent as you stand before her.

She’s beautiful, and you were never blind to that or envious of it, but now you see that there’s a distinct sneer at the corner of her lips, as if she’s looking down on you rather than at you.

Just as one of her crew approaches to gesture you to move away, you sidestep them and come towards her.

“I know what you did.”

She lets out a laugh, looking around as if appalled by such an odd accusation from a stranger. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Noah,” your eyes meet hers, and you notice the dimming of her gaze. The cocky facade she maintains slightly falters. “I know what you did.”

As she prepares to respond, her eyes divert behind you, and you hear your name being called.

Following her gaze, they fall on Noah, who is coaxing you away. His face remains as sunken as before. Since his confession, he has lost all of his composure, and you can’t help but wonder if it’s due to the exhaustion of holding onto it or if he has finally stopped pretending to be someone he’s not around you.

“No, she needs to acknowledge what she did.” You insist, turning back to face her.

“What I did was merely have some fun.” She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest.

“That’s what you call fun?!” You feel a hand on your shoulder as Nicholas steps up to you, attempting to calm you down as your voice rises.

“A few drops of GHB to relax him. He was so tense that night.” She glances past you in Noah’s direction, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “He passed out before any real fun could occur, though.” Her mouth curls into a pout, and you feel an instant urge to lunge at her, but Nick’s hand restrains you.

“So, what you’re implying is that nothing happened?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Apart from the video your little friends apparently got ahold of, no.”

“So, you put him in your bed to make him believe he cheated? Why? Because did wanted him back?”

“I didn’t make him believe anything; he came to that conclusion on his own. It sounds like a guilty conscience to me.”

Your hand twitches, and you feel Nick move down and grasp at your wrist, as if silently preventing you from lashing out at her.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She attempts to move forward and pass you, and Nick pulls you back, out of the way, as you turn to look over at Noah.

This moment should be filled with joy as you both reunite, victorious over the evil that once plagued you. Yet, instead of embracing each other, you find yourself standing there, staring at Noah, an apologetic look etched on your face.

You had known she was manipulative, but you never imagined she would resort to such extreme measures, framing Noah for cheating while making him believe the worst had happened to him.

The way Noah looked at you was a mix of shame and disappointment. You had never lashed out at anyone the way you had her, never had to be restrained and pulled away from a potential fight. You didn’t even think you had the skills to fight beyond the occasional hair-pulling and slapping. But you had been ready then. It was all thanks to Nicholas’s presence, which prevented you from confronting her in the hotel’s public space.

Imagine how that would've looked. Another story for her to spin in her favor.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, unable to lift your gaze from the floor. Shame washes over you, not just for your actions but also for not being able to bear the disappointment in Noah's eyes for much longer.

You had always prided yourself on being level-headed, but around Noah, everything changed. Whether it was his behavior or your own emotions getting the better of you, the intensity of your feelings for him surpassed anything you had ever experienced with anyone else.

“Noah, please,” you take a step towards him, reaching out to him. But instead of embracing you, he turns away, it's his turn to walk away now, and shaking his head, he retreats from you, leaving.

When you look over to your best friend, Sloan, she offers you a comforting expression before moving in. Your lips tremble as you whisper, “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” She gently shushes you, pulling you into her arms. It feels so familiar now, after her months of comforting you. She doesn’t even hold the cruelty of your words from the previous night against you.

You don’t deserve her, and maybe on some level, you don’t deserve Noah either.

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @halfalgorithmhafdeity @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @annthepenguin @samanthasgone @littlebear423 @aprosiacperson @flowery-mess @nyriastark @blackgirlmagicforever

[allertonhoe]

Congrats on 500!! for the requests: rafe + c8 please :)

of course!!! ahhh thanks for the request, i hope you like it!!! 🥰🥰

prompt: arguing all the time about everything and nothing (somehow love starts seeping into their arguments)

content warnings: 18+ MDNI - suggestive af, original afab!reader, obx!universe

500 follower celebration!

You'd met Rafe Cameron when Sarah brought you to Tannyhill for the first time. You were new to Figure 8, and she'd come up to compliment your shoes one day when you were walking around the local mall. The two of you becoming fast friends from there.

You'd recognized him from around the area, his intense aura unshakeable. Not to mention he wasn't the worst-looking. But for some reason, in contrast to his sister, he'd decided to be the absolute bane of your existence.

"So are you another one of Sarah's strays?" He grilled, seeming to appear out of nowhere when the girl left you to yourself for a few minutes.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," he provokes smoothly. "She's always out collecting whatever scraps move into town."

"Well, clearly all the decency in the family went to her and Wheezie," you grumble, his brows raising in bewilderment at the witty rebuttal.

"You just don't know me well enough yet, darling." he asserts.

"I can't say I'm too impressed with what I've seen," you scoff.

"Well, you better get used to it if you plan on sticking around my sister," he winks arrogantly.

With that, he turned on his heel and sauntered back to wherever he came from, leaving you to wallow in whatever he'd just stirred up. He gave you an inexplicable feeling, one that made you nervous for a reason you couldn't quite place yet. And while that might've been the first time he went out of his way to bug you, it would be nowhere near the last.

* * * * *

"Hey, darling," Rafe greeted brightly as he slipped through the door.

You were spending the night at the Cameron's house, but Sarah's ensuite was currently undergoing renovations, leaving you to use the shared bathroom down the hall. Something you hadn't found to be a huge deal until you were plagued with Rafe's presence once again.

Being in the midst of scrubbing your mouth, you just rolled your eyes and ignored his strange conduct. Letting out a squeak when he passed behind you to make his way to the other side of the cramped room, pinching your hip in the process. And while you shot him a dirty look at the gesture, he was more than pleased with himself. Grabbing his own brush and launching into the mundane routine without further dispute. 

You couldn't place the energy between you, a heavy silence filling the space instead of the usual vitriol you saved for each other. You were probably just getting a bit delirious because you were tired, trying not to fixate over the way his hair looked kinda cute when it was messy at the end of the day or how his sweats hung a bit too low.

Returning to the chore, you spat the minty toothpaste into the sink before bringing the brush back to your mouth. Not expecting him to follow suit, his signature grin settled on his features. His eyes meeting yours in the reflection, inadvertently sending shockwaves through your body.

It wasn't too often that you found yourself alone with Rafe, and when you did, it was unsettling to say the least. Like all the animosity you'd grown towards him shifted into another feeling. One that you couldn't really explain, or maybe you just didn't want to.

The tension between you was palpable. Holding each other's steady gaze through the mirror, like the simple task of brushing your teeth was now some petty competition. Your stomach twisting the longer you spent in there with him, without any disruptions.

You repeated your previous action, Rafe once again following your lead and doing the same. Not realizing that every time he did mimic you, he'd scooch a little closer to you until you were basically hip-to-hip, his warmth radiating onto you due to his proximity.

Not interested in putting up with his endless badgering anymore, you finally cleaned out your mouth properly. Hearing him snicker quietly as you made your exit, flipping him off as he muttered a faint, 'sweet dreams, darling,' as you rushed back to Sarah's room. Far from his constant teasing.

* * * * *

With another humid summer day in Figure 8, Sarah had called you over to drink and lounge by her pool. The lazy pastime being the perfect opportunity to soak in the beautiful weather without exuding too much energy. However, she made sure to omit that Rafe had invited Topper and Kelce.

It started off cordially enough, the two groups keeping their distance—you and Sarah off to the side, basking in the hot sun while the boys occupied the pool. But it was like clockwork. Sarah retreated back into the house to refill your cups, only for you to be smacked by a petite, wet basketball from the other direction only moments later.

"Heads up!" Rafe proclaims a little too late, him and the boys snickering at the childish antics.

"Nice, Rafe. Thanks." You snap, throwing it back towards them but missing entirely. The plastic skimming across the surface.

You shut your eyes to recreate some sense of tranquility, hearing a bit of movement from the pool before a large shadow covered you. Feeling water gently drip onto your exposed skin, you were brought back to reality to see that Rafe was hovering over you.

"Do you mind?" you sass, your sunglasses only doing so much to obscure your glare.

"Just admiring the view," he flirts, not moving from his place.

"You're such a pig. It's truly a mystery to me why girls drool over you as much as they do," you scold in disgust.

"No, it's not. You've been checking me out all day too," he counters boldly, your face going red at his presumptuous (but accurate) callout. "Don't need to get all shy about it."

"Go away." You reiterate, your patience already wearing thin.

"Fine," he concedes without any argument.

That's when he lifted you bridal-style, wasting no time turning back to the pool and jumping into the deep end with you in his arms. Gripping your waist as you swam back to the surface, as if to make sure you didn't drown.

You gasped for air as you popped out of the water, not having anticipated his sudden ambush. You pushed him off you hastily, brushing your wet hair out of your face as you scowled at him. The sound of Topper and Kelce's laughter only riling you up further.

"You're such a douchebag!" You fumed, shoving him further away, not that it did much.

"Lighten up," he remarks, his tone sounding less mocking than usual. "Looked like you were getting all hot and bothered over there."

Not thinking it through too much, you splashed him back. The older boy giving you an amused look, clearly not as affected by your retaliation as you'd been to his. You weren't sure what pissed you off more—how easily he could get on your nerves or how unapologetically smug he was about it.

"Wow, real mature." he teases.

"Says you." you declare, only for him to splash you back. "Why don't you go entertain your friends? Leave me alone for once,"

"This is more fun," he dismisses, sending another small wave towards you.

"Rafe! Stop it!" You protest again, mirroring his attack.

He floated closer to you, taking your wrists and holding them midair to halt your efforts. Looming over you easily with his bulky stature, his ocean blue eyes locking you in place as they met yours in challenge. Your surroundings seemed to fade as he held you. As if there wasn't anyone else around, let alone a few feet away.

Everything stood still for a moment, this unspoken connection returning as you held his gaze. You figured your eyes were playing tricks on you when you saw his flick downwards. You weren't in the most innocent of positions, you were only wearing a bikini, and it's not exactly like he was the definition of a gentleman.

And just as easily as when he snuck up on you, his hands were on your shoulders and dunking you back underwater. Catching you off-guard again and completely ruining whatever had temporarily risen between the two of you. Reminding you why you couldn't stand him to begin with.

* * * * *

With the absurd size of the property and all its impressive features, Tannyhill was the perfect party spot. And with Ward and Rose out of town every other week for business trips, the older Cameron siblings made sure to take full advantage of that whenever possible. Which included tonight.

Rafe found you a few hours into the gathering, not making his feelings a secret as he stormed over to you with an unimpressed look. You didn't react, knowing he was just seeking a fight. Leaning against the counter in their kitchen and chatting with your girlfriends, sipping a red solo cup of your own concoction.

"Turn this shitty music off," he commands, making you smirk triumphantly.

"What are you talking about?" you feign, exaggerating a pout.

"I know you took my phone off the Bluetooth and connected it to yours. I wouldn't listen to this girly crap." He seethes.

"I think it's a better fit," you shrug, taking a sip of your drink. "Has anyone even complained?"

"Yeah. I am," he indicates with exasperation. "You don't even live here."

"Sarah said it was fine. Nobody wanted to listen to your shitty playlist anyway. Sorry to break it to you." you retort, giggling as his temper flared.

He didn't bicker with you any further, instead grabbing your arm and dragging you through the busy halls. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten frustrated with you over something so trivial, but you couldn't say he usually let it get to him this much. Too tipsy to give a shit about his overly hostile behavior or how he was leading you into his father's empty office, ensuring to lock the door behind him.

"You're the biggest pain in my ass, you know that?" he growls.

"Little old me?" You taunt, relishing how you had the upper hand. "Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Rafe."

"Ever since Sarah brought you over here, all you've been is a fucking brat," he accuses bitterly.

"Yeah, because you're such a gem," you contend. "Fine. If you hate it that much, I'll let you control the music downstairs. Damn..."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he huffs, only deepening your confusion. "This has nothing to do with the damn music."

"Then what's your fucking problem? You're really being a buzzkill-"

He cut off your rambling, throwing you off-balance as he kissed you fiercely. And as irritated as he might've been, it was still tender and deliberate. Taking your cheeks in his hands like he was savoring it in case it was the only time he'd get to do it.

He pulled back after a few seconds and rested his forehead against yours, neither of you saying anything right away as you caught your breath. His eyes widening as if he realized what he'd just done, opening his mouth to presumably start apologizing, but you stopped him before he could.

Your hands wrapped around his neck as you brought your lips back to his, bringing him as close as you possibly could. Rafe grasping your hips and pinning you against the wall, his kisses becoming more hungry and urgent once he knew you wanted this just as much as he did. Sinking his teeth into your bottom lip like he was staking his claim, tugging the flesh gently as he receded back again.

"I can't fucking stand you," you whisper, your contradiction only making him smirk wider.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling." he chuckles, the two of you spending the remainder of the night hiding from the crowd and reacquainting yourselves.

[gnstay]

More Than Friends

Summary: Namgyu, typically confident, struggles with jealousy as his feelings for his friend Y/N deepen. Once alone, he confesses his desire to be more than friends, and to his relief, Y/N reciprocates his feelings. Both ready to explore and commit to a romantic relationship together.

Warnings: Jealousy, emotional tension, unspoken romantic feelings, etc!

Characters: Namgyu x F! Reader *Y/N*

Now Playing… more than friends - Isabel LaRosa

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Namgyu had always been the cool, confident one in your friend group—effortlessly charming, effortlessly talented. But when it came to you, all of that confidence seemed to crumble.

It had started as a simple crush, something he thought would fade. But it never did. Every time you smiled at him, every time you laughed at one of his dumb jokes, his heart betrayed him.

And now, as he sat across the classroom, watching another guy—some random classmate of yours—lean in just a little too close while talking to you, Namgyu felt his blood simmer with quiet frustration.

“You okay?” his friend — Thanos nudged him, snapping him out of his intense staring.

Namgyu forced a smile. “Yeah. Just…thinking.”

Thinking about how that guy had no business making you laugh like that. Thinking about how much he hated the way your eyes sparkled when you were enjoying the conversation. That was supposed to be his thing.

He gritted his teeth when the guy casually placed a hand on top of your hand. That was it.

Pushing back his chair, Namgyu stood up. He walked over to you, placing a firm yet casual hand on your shoulder. “Hey, Y/N. We should get going, right? We have that thing to do.”

You blinked in confusion. “What thi—?”

“The thing,” he emphasized, giving you a look that screamed just go with it.

You tilted your head but decided to play along. “Oh! Right, that thing. I almost forgot.”

The guy you were talking to frowned. “Oh, well, I guess I’ll see you later then?”

Namgyu didn’t even give him a chance to linger. “Yeah, see you,” he said, practically dragging you out of the desk and classroom.

Once outside, you turned to him with a teasing grin. “Namgyu, what was that? Are you jealous?”

He scoffed, crossing his arms. “Me? Jealous? No way. I just—he was annoying, that’s all.”

You stepped closer, tilting your head. “You were jealous.”

Namgyu sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fine. Maybe a little.” His voice softened, eyes flickering to yours. “I just don’t like seeing other guys getting too close to you.”

You looked up, surprised with his comment. “What do you mean, Namgyu?”

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something. I… I like you. More than friends.”

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. “Namgyu… I’ve always liked you more than a friend, too.”

Namgyu felt his heart race, his fingers tightening around yours. Maybe jealousy wasn’t so bad after all—if it finally led him to this moment.

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The air between you and Namgyu felt different now. Lighter, yet charged with an unspoken intensity. His confession had unraveled something between you—something that had been waiting for far too long.

You held each other, a moment of laughter suddenly arising. Namgyu’s hand brushed against yours, hesitant, uncertain.

“So…” he started, voice softer than usual. “Are we really doing this?”

You smiled, squeezing his fingers before lacing them together with yours. “I think we’ve always been doing this. We just never said it out loud.”

His gaze flickered to your joined hands, a small, almost disbelieving smile tugging at his lips. “I still can’t believe you like me back.”

You nudged his shoulder playfully. “What’s so unbelievable about it?”

“I just…” He stopped walking, turning to face you fully. “I always thought I’d be stuck in the ‘best friend’ category forever.”

You tilted your head, stepping closer. “Namgyu, I was waiting for you to say something. If you didn’t, I might’ve had to make the first move.”

His eyes widened slightly before he chuckled, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I almost missed my chance.” His voice dropped to something softer, more serious. “I don’t want to mess this up, Y/N.”

“You won’t,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand. “We’ll figure it out together.”

A pause stretched between you before Namgyu exhaled, as if letting go of whatever last bits of doubt he had been holding onto. “So, does this mean I can call you my girlfriend now?”

Your heart fluttered at the words. “Only if I get to call you my boyfriend.”

His grin widened before, in a sudden burst of confidence, he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I like the sound of that.”

You laughed, leaning in to kiss him. “Me too.”

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[yapperblog]

Part 2 of cafe worker!Joost x fem!reader

Part 1

Tags: smut, making out, semi-public, handjob, blowjob.

Explicit RPF below, don't interact if you are not comfortable with that; +18

You feel nervous walking down the same path you always take. Why are you nervous? There was usually a feeling of excitement to unwind, to see the sexy Internet Cafe employee – stifling your giggles who will he scold for breathing too loud this time. But now your palms are sweaty the closer you get to that familiar door.

After your first hookup with Joost, you haven't talked much. You got busy with work, and when you were able to visit the Internet Cafe, he seemed to be busier than usual, new customers keep flooding in. You would catch him for a couple of minutes of casual conversation by his desk, like he hasn't rearranged your guts in this same place. He would also come up to you ask about your day, the first time he did it, it made you blush furiously not having expected it from him. Other than that, you were short with each other and the timing wasn't right. Plus it has been almost a week since your last visit, probably the longest you haven't been in that place. So, all those thoughts piled on top of each other, you were feeling extra anxious to see him.

Today however you were determined to have a proper conversation. You are down to keep it casual, if he doesn't want anything serious, but you need clarity – it has been driving you crazy not knowing what he thinks about that night, does he regret it, does he want anything more?

Once again, you open the door, familiar sounds and smell greeting you, as well as a pair of blue eyes lingering in your direction. Joost smiles at you, as you come over to his desk.

"Hi you." he says, still smiling.

"Hi." It throws you off how cheerful he is, the usual scowl nowhere to be found.

"Haven't seen you in a while." his attention is still fully on you, on a normal fay by that time he was already back to typing on the computer. "Thought you went to the competitors. Maybe some other Internet Cafe has opened up." he tries to joke.

You stare at him silently and burst out laughing, the previous tension and anxiety simmering down. Maybe he is in the same mood to figure things out between you finally.

"I wouldn't dare." you lean in closer over the desk.

"That's right." he doesn't look away, matching your eye contact.

You reach for your purse to get the cash for the computer, but he stops you. "It's on the house today. Loyal customer and all that."

You look shocked at him, "You don't have to do that, but thank you." you mumble, a blush creeping up your cheeks again. He seems really happy to see you again. "All I had to do was the bang the employee? Should have done that sooner." you whisper to him making sure it is only for his ears.

"Shut up." he barks a laugh. "First computer on the second row is yours." he points in the direction of it.

"Wait, how does she get to use it for free?" a customer who just walked in behind you asks.

"None of your business." Joost is back to his usual demeanour, his eyes a reflection of being bored of the customer. "How can I help you?" he asks the guy.

You have finished the most important work you needed to do, looking up at the clock, you notice it is past midnight already, most of the customers went home, there is only you, Joost and a couple sharing a computer on the opposite side.

"Sir?" you call out in Joost's direction. "There is something wrong with this computer, can you check?"

His head immediately turns in your direction. "Um, sure." he walks up to you.

You point at the error which popped up. You know how to fix it yourself, and from the look he gives you, you are sure he knows that too. But plays along, catching up to your game. "Yes, let me check." he moves from standing next to you to reaching over behind you for the mouse and keyboard. His hand is covering the mouse over your hand, his skin feels starching hot on yours. His breath close to your ear, your stomach tightens over the simple close proximity to him.

"You are so good at this." you tell him, your voice innocent.

"Am I?"

"Yeah." you turn to face him, but he already fixed it and straightens up, leaving you so lonely.

"Thank you." your voice is quiet.

You finish the rest of your work and notice the couple has left. After waiting a couple more minutes to check if no one else comes in, you stand up and head towards Joost's desk. He is busy typing away, you linger next to him, when he finally looks up.

"Can we talk?" you ask tentatively.

He looks around the room, noticing it's just you left.

"Sure." he gives you his full attention now. "What happened?"

"Well. Nothing really, but that is the problem." you say not looking at him yet, mindlessly moving the things around at the top of his desk. "I know we don't each other yet, maybe the hookup meant nothing to you." you continue, he tries to interrupt, but you motion for him to wait. "But I would like to get to know you, move things forward. I do care about you more than just random sex, but I can't tell if you feel the same about me. You are kind of hard to read." you finally look up at him. He is looking at you intently, listening carefully to your confession.

The silence falls heavily between you, it weighs on you. Did you read this situation completely wrong, does have want nothing to do with you, before you can spiral any further, you hear his voice. "I also want to get to know you. Sorry if I left you in the unknown, I didn't mean that. I also didn't know if you want anything more. I was also so busy here, I am sorry." he says. "When you didn't come on your usual day, your usual hours-"

"You notice when I usually come here?"

"Ofcourse." he meets your eyes.

"I would love to ask you out on a date." he confesses. "Would- Would you go on a date with me?" he is also nervous, like you. It makes your heart melt.

"Yes."

Joost's gaze softened, his eyes roaming over your face with a mix of tenderness and barely concealed desire. You walk around the desk, his eyes following your every move, he starts to stand up, but you push on his shoulder to keep him sitting down. You stand in between his legs and reach out to fix his hair, brushing the fallen out of place strands. You notice the dark circles under his eyes, he works so much. Your hand slips lower, tracing his cheekbone, his skin warm under your palm. He nuzzles closer to you, his eyes darken, not used to such tender touches, but unable to tear himself away from the way you looked at him.

"Is this okay?" you ask him. So careful, the time feels like it has slowed down between you two. A contrast between how the first time went. "Yes."

You move to sit on his lap, he lets you, wrapping his hand around your waist, settling you in more comfortable, as he shifts under you.

"I really thought I might never see you again." he confesses, his voice barely audible, but you hear him.

Reaching up, you let your fingers graze the stubble on his jaw, caressing his cheek as you hold his gaze. “Kiss me, Joost,” you whisper, your voice a soft, desperate invitation.

Without another word, he closes the distance, his lips finding yours in a gentle, unhurried kiss. There is no urgency, only a steady, deliberate affection that conveys every unspoken emotion he’d held back. His kiss is soft and careful, full of warmth, he is tentative, but you lead him, showing you want him as much.

When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, and you both share a quiet, contented breath, wrapped up in the warmth of the moment. But the tenderness only fuels the lingering desire that had simmered between you both, and with a sudden burst of confidence, you grasp the collar of his shirt, pulling him back to you.

This time, the kiss deepened, your lips moving in sync as the restraint melted away, giving way to something more fervent, the Joost who likes to take control shining again. His hands grab your waist even harder, pulling you closer, his fingers splaying against your back. The gentle intimacy turns heated, your mouths exploring, you open your mouth, letting his tongue tease yours. You can feel his breath hitch as your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, he groans against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

You try to pull away, but he chases you leaning in, not ready to separate yet, "Come here" his voice is low, breathless too, as he catches your lips in a kiss again. His hands slid down to the small of your back, then lower, gripping your thighs. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His hands roam over your body, sliding along your curves, his touch sends shivers down your spine, like it's the first time being alone in this room again. However this time you are sure he wants you as much as you want him. You gasp against his mouth, a sound that turns into a soft moan, each sound coming from you pushing him closer to the edge of his composure. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring, tasting. Every brush of his tongue against yours sent a surge of heat pooling between your legs, each movement building the need that pulsed through you.

Joost shifts under you, and you feel his hardness pressing against you, undeniable. Your lips begin to wander, trailing a path from his mouth to his jaw, where you lingered, pressing soft, teasing kisses that made him shudder under your touch. You can feel the subtle stubble against your lips, the warmth radiating from his skin as you move lower, planting slow, lingering kisses along his neck, tasting the faint hint of his cologne mixed with his natural scent. Paying extra attention to the Lola Bunny tattoo on his neck, you hope to become friends with her and see her more often.

Each kiss seems to draw a deeper, ragged breath from him, his chest rising and falling as he leans into every touch, unable to hold back the quiet sounds of pleasure escaping his lips. You find it intoxicating, the sound you are able to pull from him. You let your hands roam freely, exploring the strong lines of his shoulders, fingers tracing down the curves of his chest. His pulse beats beneath your touch, quickening with each passing second. He swallows hard, his breathing growing heavier as you continued, savoring every inch of him.

"You are driving me crazy." he says, as you continue to kiss along his sensitive spot.

"You look so good like this." your words go straight to his dick. "I can't believe I finally get to have you like this."

"Fuck, baby. Don't say shit like this, I might just cum in my pants." he confesses tilting his head back, giving you even more access, closing his eyes, clearly enjoying your actions.

"Maybe I would like that." you let your fingers slide down his torso, tracing every line and curve of his body with deliberate, teasing slowness.

"What? Me cuming my pants?" his opens his eyes to look at you. You look up at him grinning, your hand finally reaches the waistband of his boxers, and you press your palm against him. "You are evil."

"You don't like that?" you remove your hand from him.

"Nonono." he repeats, putting your hand back right where it was. "I do." his breath hitches, a deep, guttural sound escaping his throat as he instinctively pushes into your touch, his fingers digging into your waist.

"I am enjoying myself too." you murmur, palming him gently, feeling his arousal grow beneath your hand, hardening with each brush of your fingers. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Joost. I wanted to know how you’d feel like this,” you admit, voice a mix of admiration and desire.

His hands roam your back, pulling you closer, his breathing growing heavier as he looses himself in every touch, every word you murmur against him. "More, please." he pleads, looking in the direction of the door. The cafe is still open to the public. It has been a quieter night than usual, but there is still a possibility someone might stumble in, but he is ready for the gamble, knowing you are too.

"God… that feels so good,” he gasps, as he looks, his expression a mixture of awe and arousal. His hands roam up and down your back, and you can feel the effect of every touch, every word, as his breathing grows heavier. "You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice rough as he presses a kiss to your temple, his words urge you to move your hand around his cock faster, encouraging every word. “Been wanting this… wanting you… for so damn long.” He buries his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin as he speaks, his voice shaky, every word spilling out in a way that only fueled the fire between you.

"Seeing that guy ask you out,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below your ear, “it drove me crazy. Couldn’t stand it. I wanted to kill him for touching you” He pauses, lifting his head to look into your eyes, his gaze raw, vulnerable, every wall he’d built around himself now shattered. “I’ve wanted you like this… needed you like this… for so long.”

Hearing him say it out loud, the desire intertwined in every syllable, makes your head spin. Feeling he is fully hard under you now, you slowly sink to your knees in front of him, his mouth falling open slightly at the realisation what you are doing for him. You maintain eye contact with him, as you feel the carpet dig into your knees, but you don't care, not when he looks at you like this.

"Fuck... you don't have to." he says, putting a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I want to." you say, and reach for his belt. "Do you want to?"

"Yes." he says it way too quick and it makes you giggle. He helps you undo the belt, lifting his hips to take off his pants.

You palm him through his underwear again, enjoying the delicious moan from him. You motion for him to take them off and he does. "Good boy." you purr and you swear you can see an actual sparkle in his eyes. Who would have thought the mean Internet Cafe employee, who everyone is so scared of, would be melting under your palm at a few words of praise. His cock jumps free from the confines of his boxers, but you don't give it the attention it craves so much. Not yet. Your hands drift up, playing with the hem of his shirt, your nails grazing his stomach lightly, sending a wave of heat coursing through his veins. A sharp exhale escapes him before he can stop it, his muscles tensing under your touch.

After feeling that you've teased him enough, you take his dick in your hands, the tip an angry shade of red, pre-cum spilling from the anticipation. Mixing it with your spit, you start to stroke him. You pay attention to alternating in pressure, swiping your thumb over his tip every time you passed it. Then you nuzzle against it, pressing soft, lingering kisses along the side, your warm breath sending another shudder through him. You are savoring every inch before you begin. Only then your lips part, and you finally take him in. The first flick of your tongue sends a sharp jolt of pleasure up his spine. He has to grip the desk, not to push his hips. Your lips wrap around him, slow and firm, dragging along his length with precision.

"Feels so good." he borderline whines looking down at you. "Keep going please." his hands find the back of your head, not pushing, just wanting to feel you.

Your tongue glides firmly along the underside, tracing every vein, your movements deliberate as you circle the tip before taking him in your mouth again, your lips stretching around his girth. The lewd sound of your lips smacking around you loud in the empty room, making his stomach tighten. You look up at him innocently, as you take more and more of him, your warm and wet mouth mixed with the view makes him almost lose his mind and cum on the spot. He has to lean his head back and concentrate not to end it too soon.

You are however relentless—taking him deeper each time, your spit slicking every inch of him. You bob your head with a slow, steady rhythm, a mix of suction and slippery, messy tongue work that makes his breath stutter.

Suddenly there is a noise of a door opening. His hand on your head gripping your hair, motioning for you to stop. You do, still with his cock in your mouth, you feel him sit up straighter, fixing his hair. There are footsteps coming closer, but luckily they can't see you from your position under the desk.

"Hello, can I print out a few things? Is there a working printer?" an unfamiliar voice asks.

Joost clears his throat. "Hello, yes. It's over there. How many copies?" his voice trying to hide the fact that your soft mouth is still wrapped around his length cockwarming him. The customer goes on a long tangent telling a story how the past few places had trouble with printing and he is walking all around town trying to make a copy of a document. Joost hums in approval listening to his story, one of his hands still wrapped tightly on your hair, making sure you don't get an idea of teasing him.

The customer walks over to the printer. "Call if you need any help." Joost tells him. You hope the customer can do it on his own.

As the footsteps grow quieter and further away, Joost releases his hand from your hair. You move away from him as quietly as possible, leaning your head on his thigh. He looks down at you, pressing a finger to his slips motioning for you to stay quiet and you nod.

You can hear the printer beeping and the customer settling in behind the computer. After awhile you start to get bored, as Joost got back to typing on the keyboard, probably pretending to work not to give away what was happening before. You start to press soft kisses along his thigh. He doesn't stop you, so you continue doing it almost with no sound, the buzz of the printer also helping to hide any noise. You get bolder and bite him, although not hard enough to produce the noise that comes out of him – too loud for how light the bite was. You lick over the spot, he looks down at you with raised eyebrows and you smile apologetically.

"Everything ok?" the customer asks.

"Oh. Yeah, all good." Joost replies. His voice shaky. "Just, um, you know, looking at prices. They seem to bite for real nowadays." the customer laughs at that and agrees. The printing noise continues.

You have to cover your mouth not to laugh at him too. After giving him a few minutes to recover, you continue pressing kisses along his thigh, inching closer to his neglected cock. He stiffens in his seat, but doesn't stop you, so you go further. You ghost your lips over the sensitive skin along his shaft, licking at the tip. His grip tightens over the mouse. You take him in your mouth, building a slow rhythm, not swallowing him too deep to avoid the noise, but enough to tease him. His breathing grows heavier and his big hand finds the back of your head again, his fingers weaving through your hair.

"Fuck. Stop stop." you hear him whisper quietly.

"All done?" you hear Joost say.

"Yep. Thank you so much." the customer replies. "Are you...alright?" he asks tentatively after a pause.

"Yes, I am totally fine. Tired probably. A long shift." he says with no waver in his voice, which makes the guy believe it, not wanting to ask any more questions.

The customer pays and you hear him leave.

"Shit." Joost exhales, his body relaxing. You are also glad he is finally gone. "You little devil." he looks down at you again. He brings you up from under the table and leans down to meet you halfway for a kiss. He groans still tasting himself on your mouth, he tilts your head to deepen the kiss, his cock twitching when you reach out to touch it. You break the kiss, "So sensitive." you whisper against his mouth.

"Get back to work." he leaves one last kiss on your lips and you take your place between his legs. There is a sense of urgency in the air, hoping no one else comes in.

You spit on his tip again, slow and deliberate, watching the saliva trail down before you gather it with your tongue and take him in your mouth once more. You deepen the rhythm, your mouth molding around him, your cheeks hollowing as you suck with more urgency, a wet, obscene symphony filling the space beneath the desk. The slick sounds grow louder, more obscene, as spit pools and dribbles from the corners of your mouth, coating his length in a messy sheen.

You take him to the base, your throat clenching around him, a loud moan leaving his lips, before you pull back, eyes fluttering your breath labored. You let another thick strand of spit fall, your fingers smoothing it down as you stroke him with both hands, your grip greedy, insatiable. Then go back in, your nails digging lightly into his thigh, steadying yourself, like you're getting lost in it. You feel yourself get wet, your clit pulsing steadily, listening to his moans, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure, his heavy hand on the back of your head.

"You like it, huh?" he asks, his chest heaving up and down. You hum around him, the vibrations sending an additional wave of pleasure for him. "So pretty on your knees for me." he brushes away a tear, which falls down your cheek.

He presses you down just a little more. "Can I do this?" he asks and you moan in approval, nodding. Your throat tightens as he pushes you deeper, the tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag around him. He keeps you there for a moment, his eyes closing in pleasure, "Fuck.." he exhales and lets go off you.

You wrap your hand around his slick length. Your strokes are slow, loud, your fingers working him with a deliberate pace. Looking up at him from under the desk, you look utterly wrecked—lips swollen and slick, spit trailing down your chin, eyes glassy and dark with hunger. He thinks you look like a dream, he is already planning the date in the back of his head, he wants to wake up next to you, he even imagines growing old with you, which he never did before. You pant softly, your breath shaky, as both hands work him with slow, messy strokes, your fingers coated in the evidence of your own devotion.

His thighs tremble as you keep stroking, your grip firm, fingers gliding over his slick length with a slow, almost lazy confidence. His breath is uneven, hot, moans slipping past his lips, same as your own, as if you are lost in the act itself, dazed by the sensation of having him in your hands. Your palm twists just right as you drag it up and down. Your eyes stay locked on his, a smirk on your pretty face. You lick over his tip and wrap your lips around him, sucking, bobbing your head up and down.

His body tenses as your throat tightens around him, your free hand rolling his balls in your palm as you move up and down with an unrelenting pace. Your movements are fast, ruthless, each descent pushing him deeper into your throat. His moans turn breathier, more frantic. Your tongue presses against the underside, rubbing against that sensitive spot as your lips stretch around his girth. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, spit dripping from your chin, but you don't stop determined to take him to completion.

His head tips back, mouth falling open in a loud moan as his hips jerk forward involuntarily. Pleasure crashes over him like a tidal wave, blinding, unstoppable. His muscles go taut, as he cums deep inside you, and you moan around him, swallowing greedily as if you're desperate for every last drop. The thick warmth shoots down your throat, and you take it all effortlessly, your lips sealed tight, sucking him through every wave.

You take your mouth off of him, your own breathing heavy. You leave a few more kisses on his thigh, helping him come back to his senses.

"That was... incredible. You are incredible." he says, pulling you back onto his lap. He takes a tissue from his desk and wipes gently at your lips.

You lay your head on his shoulder, as he puts his pants back on and wraps his hands around you. "Can I take you home? My shift ends soon." he asks carefully, nervously.

You lift your head looking up at him. "Yes."

He did take you home and fucked you until you couldn't take his touch anymore, his attention fixated on your pleasure alone. And you kept coming back to his place, months later it becoming a part of you, as much as it is for him. Your lives gradually intertwining more and more, learning how to be the best for each other.

You hear your alarm clock go off, reaching out to turn it off. Joost groans beside you, he only recently came back home after his shift, but it is already time for you to start getting ready for work. You feel his arm wrap tighter around you, his chest pressed tight around your back, as if he could be any closer to you.

"I need to get up, Joost." you try to peal yourself off of him.

"Just 5 more minutes, please." he feels like he hasn't gotten enough of you yet. He always feels so cold without you in his bed. He can't even remember how his life was without you in it. Your warmth seems to have fix everything.

He nuzzles closer to you, burying his head into your neck. You turn in his embrace, kissing him slowly, he immediately reacts and returns the kiss.

"How soon do you have to leave at the latest?" he asks.

"We have like.. 10 minutes max." you say. You really can't be late again. It is always the same with him when it is a night shift for him – he comes back late, you have to leave early. He wants to cuddle for 5 more minutes, which turns into something more, but you don't complain, you can't get enough of him too.

"Perfect." you feel him smile against your neck.

[realtapiocafan]

https://www.tumblr.com/realtapiocafan/774877061591515136

When I say that body language is telling me… I mean I’m how you can see the adoration these two have for each other it’s SICKENING 😭

found a version of the photo to just. look and appreciate them (credit to christopher polk but like. i needed a version without the getty watermark) and now i shall yap!

when i tell you i stopped breathing when i saw this photo, i'm not kidding. let me just attempt to put into words why this photo has me fucked up beyond belief.

op was very real for this. looking directly into each other eyes is very hot.

that's not a thing you really do with someone you don't know well, because uhh. it just gets awkward. but with someone you DO know, with someone you know so well that you don't even have to speak, that you can just smile at and they'll smile back and you feel so content in your HEART???

that's really, really fucking hot.

the eye contact actually makes my brain go brrr. both of them crinkling their eyes in JOY and not even paying an IOTA of attention to anyone else, because who tf even cares about the world around them? like 'lost in each other's eyes', is literally the only phrase i could use -because that's what they're doing!

the only thing that matters, in this moment, is just each other. nothing else.

this is literally what i'd imagine this moment to be: joe just playing with his phone, wondering where ja'marr is, still thinking about ja'marr as a model and god he may have discovered a new kink and -- "Joe!"

and he looks up and oh. there he is. joe stops breathing, not that he's really aware of, not that anyone really notices. because it's ja'marr with a smile like the sun and all crinkling eyes and joe can't help but grin back, doesn't understand how anyone could ever not grin back when faced with ja'marr fucking chase. does he really need to breathe when beautiful, stunning, gorgeous ja'marr is right in front of him, fresh off walking a runway? no. no he does not.

they know each other too well to need any words and that's. holy cow, but isn't that the height of romance? to know someone to that level, where you don't need all that small talk and shit. to just be so content with the person you love, that you don't even have to say anything. you know them so well, that they don't need to say anything out loud -you already know what's coming out of their mouths.

in my mind, they just stand there in silence for a few seconds. like a couple of idiots <3. ja'marr grinning ear to ear, joe's smile creeping up because he can't help it, both of them swaying towards each other like magnets...

you focused on the body language, anon, and YES. just ---there's no tension in either of them. shoulders relaxed, eyes crinkling, smiling. i doubt they're even aware of the camera. again, it's just them. just them, looking in each other's eyes and utterly relaxing. they're each other's safe space, the calm in the storm.

it's just ---'oh it's you' type of love. not just 'oh it's you and it's always been you and how could it have ever not been you' -but 'oh it's you. you're the reason why i feel safe. you're the reason i can relax with you in a way i can't with anyone else'.

and this sums up the entire picture, why did i even type all that ugh.

[wendichester]

⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃⋆ 'til death do us part,

summary. you catch a pattern at a couple's retreat and have to go understand. cue in sam's new (fake) wife!

pairing. sam winchester x reader ; fake couple

wordcount. 694

"You ready?"

Sam’s voice is smooth, deep, warm like honey. You nearly roll your eyes, but instead, you lace your fingers with his and plaster on your best adoring-wife smile.

"Of course, darling," you purr, giving his hand a little squeeze for effect.

The ruse is simple enough: a small-town cult disguised as a religious retreat, luring in young married couples for “spiritual renewal.” The catch? None of them ever leave.

So here you are, hand-in-hand with Sam Winchester, wearing a simple gold band on your finger that’s heavier than it should be.

The woman at the check-in table beams at you both, her gaze flicking to your joined hands. "Such a beautiful couple," she says. "How long have you been married?"

Sam barely hesitates. "Three years," he says easily. "Met in college. Love at first sight."

You feel your cheeks warm. You hadn’t rehearsed that part.

The woman sighs dreamily. "How wonderful. Well, we’ll get you both settled in. We encourage closeness, so no separate rooms here. Just you, your spouse, and the universe binding your souls together."

Oh, fantastic.

Sam keeps up the act flawlessly, rubbing slow circles against the back of your hand with his thumb as you follow her down a candlelit hall. Your fake honeymoon suite is small but cozy, with soft lighting and a single bed in the center.

The door shuts behind you, leaving you alone with Sam and the inescapable tension crackling in the air.

"Three years, huh?" you tease, slipping off your shoes.

He shrugs, tugging at the collar of his shirt. "Seemed believable."

"You got a whole love story planned out?"

Sam smirks. "I could come up with one if you want."

You roll your eyes and flop onto the bed, feeling the mattress dip slightly under your weight. "Nah. I think I like this arranged marriage thing we’ve got going on."

Sam chuckles, running a hand through his hair. He’s too comfortable, too good at this. You should be focusing on the case, not on how right his last name looks on your fake I.D.

You clear your throat. "So, what’s the plan?"

"Figure out what they’re really doing here, take down the bad guys, save the day," Sam says. "Same as always."

"With a side of marital bliss," you add dryly.

Sam tilts his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like calling me your husband."

You smirk. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like it."

He doesn’t answer right away. Just watches you, something unreadable behind those sharp hazel eyes.

For a second, the whole act slips into something dangerously real.

"Maybe I do," he finally says, voice quieter now.

Your stomach flips.

You should say something snarky, make a joke, something, but your mouth is suddenly dry, and Sam is still looking at you like that.

Like maybe pretending doesn’t feel so much like such a burden.

The case should be your first priority. The weird chanting you heard earlier, the way the other couples here seem too happy, the fact that you might be in real danger if you don’t figure out what’s going on.

But all you can focus on is the way Sam’s fingers brush against yours when he leans down, resting his weight on his hands beside you.

"Maybe we should get some sleep," he murmurs, his voice softer now, heavier.

You nod, pulse thrumming in your throat.

You don’t move. Neither does he.

The space between you crackles with something unsaid, something waiting.

But Sam pulls back first, shaking his head like he’s clearing a thought from his mind. "Big day tomorrow."

"Right," you say quickly, swinging your legs onto the bed and yanking the covers up.

A beat of silence.

Then Sam reaches over and turns off the light.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, hyper-aware of every breath he takes beside you. Of the warmth of his body inches away.

Of the fact that you’re still wearing his last name.

And that maybe he was right and you like calling him your husband. That you wouldn’t mind keeping his last name.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @mrs-pondwater19 ⋆ @myceliumsunshine ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7

[zepskies]

Yayyy!!! I know you've wanted to write a Colter story for a while now, and I was so happy to dive into this one, my friend! 🤩

I love the teasing relationship between the reader and Dory loll. Such best friend/sisterly vibes, and the fact that Dory already clocks the reader's attraction to Colter.

And you so got the level of his intelligence and perceptiveness in this -- the way he immediately knew there was something off, that the reader is an FBI agent, and that there's a killer after his little sister. 😬

I also really liked the tension between the reader and Colter -- I love me some sassy sniping, and you always do that so well!! loll Colter's protectiveness over her against "Nepo Baby" man was also so delicious. Finally we see him break that stoic front to show some raw emotion for his sister and the reader~ 👏🏽👏🏽

“There you go, doing that thing with your nose again,” he said, cupping your cheek. “You deserve to protected too, even if you are a badass, got it?” You nodded, Colter smiling. “Good girl.” “You think just because you saved me, you get to kiss me?” “No, I think I get to kiss you because you think I’m objectively attractive.” 

Ahaha I love this -- that last line especially felt like Colter!! lol And good for the reader that she retired from the FBI after that MAJOR breach of trust. Almost getting killed by a serial killer would put a damper on any job, honestly. 😅 And now she and Colter get to make their own version of normal together. 💕 I'm thinking she's gonna want to keep these strings attached for a good long while. 😏

Well done, Michelle! I would love to read more of your take on Colter in the future. 😊💜💜

Strings

Summary: The reader's been assigned to watch over Dory Shaw when she runs into trouble. But when her big brother, Colter, shows up in town, things in the case are about to take a dramatic turn...

Pairing: Colter Shaw x reader

Word Count: 5,100ish

Warnings: language, serial killers, drugging, smidge of violence, innuendoes galore, not so implied smutty times

A/N: Welcome to my first ever Colter one shot! Please enjoy and let me know what you think and if you want more Colter! 😊

________

“So that’s the brother that does the reward thing you told me about?” Dory hummed beside you at your hightop, smirking at you. “What?”

“Nothing. You’ve only been drooling over him the past hour.” She gave her brother a wave from where he was getting the three of you refills at the bar. You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Defensive pose. I must be totally wrong, hm?”

“So what if he’s hot? I wasn’t drooling.” She shuddered. “You have hot brothers, Dory. Live with it. It’s a shame how you turned out. Your poor parents.”

“Screw you,” she said, flipping you off with a smile. You only grinned, stealing one of the cold fries from the basket before you. “I thought you swore off men anyways.”

“I swore off boys. Douchebags that don’t want commitment. Men? Men, I’m okay with.”

“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” she said, Colter wearing a pleasant smile as he returned with three bottles. 

“Ladies,” he said, setting one down in front of each of you before taking a seat. 

“So how long are you-” Dory groaned when he phone started to buzz. “Oh, come on. It’s fucking Hendricks.”

“Yikes,” you said, taking a sip as Colter frowned.

“Who’s Hendricks?” he asked, Dory answering and walking away to a quiet corner of the bar.

“The department chair. They’ve been having a problem with one of the professors and keep asking Dory to cover his night classes last minute,” you said. Colter frowned, keeping his thoughts to himself. Slowly you brought the lips of your ice cold bottle to your lips, taking a baby sip, Colter’s gaze on Dory’s agitated form. “What did you study in college?”

“I never went,” he said, Dory approaching again with her phone by her side. She gave you a look. She had to go. Colter picked up on it as she faced him, an apology in her eyes. He only softly returned a smile, hiding his disappointment well. “Go to work. I can stick around town a few days.”

“Really?” she asked, her voice so young sounding, a little girl’s spark in her eyes. 

“Of course, kiddo,” he said, handing her the black bag on the table belonging to her. “We’ll get dinner at your place tomorrow.”

“You’re serious? You’re not going to run off in the night?” He shook his head, hiding the flash of pain on his face. Dory only smiled, pecking a kiss on his temple. “Alright, I’ll text you later. Oh, and Y/N totally thinks you’re hot. Have fun!”

“Dorian!” you screeched at her as she happily scurried away, heading out the bar entrance. Your face felt hot as you turned back to Colter, he eyes suddenly narrowed. “Uh, she was just joking-”

“You have five seconds to explain who you are and why that man by the door followed her out. Five. Four,” he said, already getting to his feet. “Three-”

“Protective custody,” you grit out. Colter took two steps to be by your side, leaning down to your ear.

“How many are covering her?”

“Three at all times. One of us is always by her side. That call was a cover. She has to go into the agency for a debrief,” you said quietly. You felt his hot breath over the back of your neck, your skin prickling. “Back off, Shaw.”

“You’re going to tell me what’s going on, right now.” You growled, pushing out your seat and standing, forcing him to take a step back, if only so. 

“Not here.” You left without waiting for him, Colter right on your heels though. You stopped by your SUV in the parking lot, Colter crossing his arms. With a sigh, you put your hands on your hips. “You’re not going to let this go, are you.”

“The only reason I didn’t storm out after Dory is because I believe you. Now what is my kid sister involved in?” You shook your head, Colter tilting his own back. “I will not interfere but you need to tell me. Or else, I’ll go poking on my own and then I very well might end up interfering which you don’t want. Talk.”

“You would never risk putting her in danger so no, you won’t do anything. You are going to get in your truck, go sleep in your camper and tomorrow, hang out with your sister and me, her old friend from college that’s visiting until further notice. Got it?” you snapped. He looked you up and down, searching for a weapon maybe? He’d never find the small pistol in the back of your waistband though. “Shaw, I told you to go.”

“You need to be better at your job,” he said, reaching around his back and pulling our a small pistol. Your small pistol. Your hand shot to your back, now feeling very flat. 

“How-”

“I distracted you in the bar.” He flipped the gun around, holding the grip out to you. “I’m sure you know all about our family. If someone is after her, I can find them. You know I can.”

“You think you can do a better job than the FBI?” you scoffed, taking your weapon back. He shrugged. It was maybe a sliver of cocky but you knew he had the record to back it up. 

“I think if you don’t find this guy soon, the case will go cold and the FBI will not waste so many agents time. You’ve probably got what, a team of seven people covering her?”

“Four now,” you mumbled, his eyes flashing wide for a brief moment. “Maybe a few agents have been pulled the past few days but we wouldn’t leave her to fend for herself.”

“How long before that team drops to two? To one? Before they force her into witness protection or this bastard finds her first?” You tucked your gun away, Colter tilting his head to the side. “You know what’s going to happen? You’re going to be the last agent left and either you both get killed, you do and she goes into witness protection or she does and you have to live with the fact you failed her. You seem capable of defending her but if this person is as dangerous as you make it seem, you are going to need all the help you can get.”

“Go to your camper,” you said, opening the drivers door, Colter making a face. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“Cozy,” you said, stepping into the airstream forty minutes later. You’d changed into a pair of jeans and an oversized hoodie from college. Colter pouted from the kitchenette area, nodding to the table. You tucked yourself in along with your backpack, tugging out your laptop and files before he set a beer down in front of you. “I ordered us a pizza. Should be here soon. You’re paying.”

“Of course I am,” he said, taking the seat across, spinning your folders around and opening one as you got your computer booted up. He barely glanced at the thing before you felt his heated stare. You met it quickly, Colter pointing a finger to a picture on the page. “A suspected serial killer? Seriously?”

“She saw him drug a woman at a bar. Gave a good description to locals, it flagged in our system. Two days later, someone broke into her house. Luckily for your sister, she was covering a lecture that night and wasn’t home.” He ran a hand over his face, closing his eyes. “I know. She’s his next target. Good news is we know what he looks like and have a name. Bad news-”

“Twelve years and he hasn’t been caught?” said Colter. He grabbed his beer, tightening his grip around it but not drinking. Yet. He steadied himself, breathing deeply. “When do you lose sight of him normally?”

“He’s not shy. After a kill, he sticks around the area for a day or so. We get footage of him at coffee shops, stores. We’ll track him to bus stations and then we lose him.”

“He doesn’t take the bus?” You shook your head. Colter pursed his lips, flipping through the pages of your files. “You think he changes appearance in station bathrooms and sneaks out with the crowd?”

“That is the agency’s working theory,” you said, Colter giving you his attention. You were no stranger to working under scrutiny but his intense stare made you feel like you were back in the academy on your first day.

“You disagree with that.” You nodded, turning your computer around, his eyes darting around the screen, pondering the data. “Huh. You think he uses the station as a cover and heads into the sewer system through maintenance.”

“I have…been told this is impossible and there’s no way he has done this in eleven separate cities and no one has been the wiser.” You took the computer back, Colter flipping up a page. “It doesn’t matter. We need-”

“It does and I agree with you. He always goes into the station wearing gray trousers, black boots and a black hoodie. That could easily be covering a maintenance jumpsuit that he uses to gain access and then escape without watchful eyes.”

“But it tells us nothing about where he might be now,” you said. Colter smirked, finally taking a sip of his beer. “I know what you’re thinking but countless stores sell basic jumpsuits.”

“You’re right. But if I were him, I wouldn’t want to get behind the wheel of a car smelling like crap while I get out of town. Now this guy is tall, right? He’s not going to want to walk more than a few miles at most hunched over in a sewer. Let me see your computer.” 

You slid it over, Colter pulling up a map of the city, dropping a pin on the bus station. He typed something and then his phone was ringing, Colter muttering something to someone named Bobby before he hung up. A few seconds passed before he smiled, turning it back to you, a giant red circle on the screen.

“People would notice if a guy came in stinking to a hotel or motel. My best bet, he has a hideaway somewhere in that perimeter. My guy is looking into foreclosures, rentals, abandoned properties. We’ll hear back soon.”

“You could be wrong. You’re making a pretty big assumption based on the fact the guy wouldn’t want to sit in his own stench.” Colter shrugged, holding up his hands.

“I might be. Or I might be right. What’s the harm in looking?” You sat back, crossing your arms, glancing out his wide back window to the darkness beyond.

“I’m meant to be Dory’s handler. I sleep in her house, I am by her side almost twenty four seven. I cannot spend time kicking down doors and I won’t be able to get my boss to approve more field agents to go off on a wild goose chase.” Colter cocked his head, licking his lips. “What?”

“You already figured all this shit out about the perimeter on your own,” he said, leaning forward. You sighed, Colter shaking his head. “They turned you down when you brought it up.”

“Like I said, I’ve been told it’s impossible.” You grabbed your beer, picking at the paper label. “I was the junior lead on the case. I was demoted to protective services when I presented my idea. I was told it was childish and clearly I was not ready for difficult case work. If I go off on my own and they find out, I’m fired.”

“Then we won’t let them find out,” he said. “I have an idea.”

“Well that was mortifying,” you said twenty minutes later after hanging up the phone, Colter smirking from the drivers seat. “Oh, shut up. It was your shitty idea.”

“They seem to have bought it,” he said, still smiling as you glared. “You do this thing with your nose when you get embarrassed.”

You flipped him off, Colter chuckling before heading down the road out of the parking lot and towards the perimeter circle form the bus station. 

“I can’t believe I asked for a night off for a fake date with you,” you mumbled, pressing your fingers to your temple and rubbing.

“Well you were drooling over me at the bar and your little agent friend and Dory seeing it certainly helped.” You smacked his arm, Colter feigning pain. 

“First off, I did not drool. Second, you are objectively attractive and I allowed to appreciate good looking men. Third, you are lucky I’m overworked and my boss was happy I’m taking some time off to recharge.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard your partner say they wished you a happy trip to pound town tonight.” You growled audibly, Colter laughing to himself. 

“One more word and I will arrest you, Shaw,” you said. He held up his hands, that stupid smile still on his face. “Don’t be cocky.”

“Interesting choice of words.” 

“Someone kill me now,” you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest, your vest heavy underneath your hoodie.

“Seriously though, thank you for doing this with me. It’s a lot safer having backup,” he said. You nodded, knowing fully well that if you did find your killer, tonight was most likely your last night as an agent.

“Yeah well…I’m only letting you do this because Dory told us all about how you were raised. You can handle yourself if it comes down to it.” The air was quiet, the jovialness slipping away with a single breath.

“I’m sorry you were laughed out of the room,” he said, turning down a quiet street. “We might not be right but it’s worth investigating.”

“They were looking for any excuse to move me down the ladder after my boss’ son started in the office. He took my old job the little shit,” you said. “Straight out of the academy, never even seen a dead body and he’s working a damn serial killer case.”

“I see you hold no resentment,” he said. You rolled your eyes, Colter clearing his throat. “For what it’s worth, I’d rather have the woman that gives more of a shit about my sister than her job than have the nepo baby ridin’ shotgun.”

“So you know I’ll probably lose my job tonight,” you said, Colter humming. “I won’t if we don’t find the guy.”

“We both know odds are good we’ll find him,” he said, sparing you a look when you stopped a red. He had a look of…softness, a sad smile there. “Thank you for protecting her.”

“Well, at least I won’t have to look at nepo baby’s stupid face anymore. He looks like a smug little prick,” you said. 

“Is he good looking?”

“God no. Ugly as sin like his dad.” Colter chuckled, a quiet one leaving your lips.

“Looks like you got an upgrade then,” he said. “Even if you do drool.”

“Just shut up and drive, Shaw.”

Three hours and twenty eight minutes later, you were staring at the ceiling of a rental house, blood dripping down from your temple from where you’d been pistol whipped in the face. Your body told you to make sound, move, call out for Colter who was at the front of the house. But your lungs weren’t working, the breath knocked out of you.

A dark shadow leered down at you, his eyes narrowed.

“Little miss roommate,” he said, squatting down, pushing the gun that’d fallen from your hands away. He cocked his head, resting a hand over your throat, stopping you from getting the air you desperately needed. He squeezed harder, pushing up your hoodie with the other one, tsking when he saw your vest. “Come on, sweetie. Look at me. Get a real good look at me, Y/N.”

He let you get a rush of air in your lungs as your eyes drifted over. The man looked slightly off somehow as he reached behind his neck. There was a sound of rubber as a synthetic mask was ripped off, a sweaty face appearing underneath that made your eyes go wide. He spun the mask around before setting it down beside him, fixing his hair as he applied more pressure again.

“I know you have questions,” he tutted, patting your face as you squeezed his wrist. “Come on, really?”

 Something sharp pricked your shoulder, a syringe pulled back as you felt your limbs get heavy. He backed off with choking you at least when all you could do was manage a limp grasp of him. 

“That’s better,” he said. “So I-”

He went down the ground hard, Colter standing over his prone form, eyes shooting to you. “He stabbed you with a sedative because this sick fuck likes his victims to be awake. You should be okay.”

“Nepo baby,” you mumbled, Colter tilting his head like he heard you wrong. “Him. Nepo baby.”

Colter got him restrained and tied to a nearby radiator before helping you sit up against the wall. He was shoving a cup of coffee in your hand by the time your attacker was waking up, your body heavy but a few sips of the scalding hot liquid had you feeling a tiny bit better.

“Good morning,” said Colter, his voice way, way darker than you thought it could go. Franklin was fully awake now and staring at you. “I interrupted your monologue before. How rude of me. Continue.”

“I ain’t saying shit-” he said, cutting himself off when Colter pressed the cold barrel of his gun right in Franklin’s crotch. 

“It probably won’t kill you but you’re going to think of me every time you take a piss the rest of your life. So, I’d take a second and really think about the next words out of your mouth because you’ve tried to kill my sister and you’ve tried to kill my friend over there and I am more than happy to pull this trigger if you don’t tell us everything. Now.”

Franklin slammed his head back against the wall, muttering curses to himself.

“His name is Franklin,” you said, forcing yourself to chug back the coffee.

“Franklin,” sang song Colter, his hand grasping Franklin’s chin. “You have three seconds before I start shooting off body parts. Three. Two-”

“I did it! All of it. My dad found out and…”

“Fuck. He protected you,” you spit out. 

“You figured out where I hid so he made you a laughing stock, got you demoted for being crazy. We knew we had to get rid of you so we…set up a failed job. I picked the blonde girl cause I thought she was pretty-”

Colter pressed his gun down hard, Franklin making a guttural sound in response.

“Keep talking,” Colter snarled. Franklin caught his breath, closing his eyes.

“He put you on protective detail and I was going to lay low until he pulled the whole detail except for you and the blonde girl. I was going to make it look like I got the jump on you before I played with the blonde…and you…before I…” he trailed off.

“Play with the blonde? With Y/N?” growled Colter. “That’s my baby sister. That’s my friend.”

“Walk away, Colter,” you said, forcing yourself to your feet. You swiped the gun from his hand and sat down in a nearby chair, aimed at Franklin. Colter didn’t move though, his body like solid steel. “Colter.”

He forced himself away, breathing hard and putting his back to Franklin. You imagined you looked like shit. Your head was pounding and you felt like going to sleep and running a marathon at the same time.

“I want you to call my old partner, Denny Piplin. Tell him everything. He has friends in high places and will make sure a trusted agent is watching Dory when shit goes down in that office.” You handed him your phone, Colter’s eyes darting around your face. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” he said, taking the phone. After a moment, his jacket was pressed against your head, his strong hand holding it there as he flipped through your phone contacts. “You need a hospital.”

“I’ll go when this bastard is behind bars,” you said, lifting your chin at Franklin. “And you over there? You don’t make a sound, move a muscle, or else I give him back the gun and let him do whatever the hell he wants with it.”

You swore Franklin didn’t move a millimeter for the next hour while you waited for agents to arrive. An ambulance showed up as they escorted him out to the back of a car, driven away to the field office most likely. You got lucky and your cut looked worse than it was thankfully.

“Hey,” said Colter, taking a seat next to you on the front steps of the house. 

“Hey,” you said, holding an icepack to your head. He shifted and you felt his fingers brush yours, holding the pack in place for you so you could lower you arm. You sleepily smiled at him, Colter returning it. “Were you really going to shoot his balls and dick off?”

“Would you think less of me if the answer was yes?” You shook your head, resting it against his shoulder. “How long until the sedative wears off?”

“A few hours they think. How’s Dory?”

“Fine. She’s back home. Some agents are going to spend the night with her. You old partner picked them himself.”

“Good. Denny’s a good guy,” you said, shivering when a gust of wind caught you. Colter shrugged out of his only slightly bloody jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders. “You were laying it on kind of thick in there with the ‘you hurt my friend’ schtick, you know.”

“It wasn’t a schtick. He was going to do vile things to you too. That pissed me off.” 

“Still, you didn’t have to…” you stopped talking when he sat you upright, his eyes darting to your lips.

“There you go, doing that thing with your nose again,” he said, cupping your cheek. “You deserve to protected too, even if you are a badass, got it?”

You nodded, Colter smiling. “Good girl.”

“You think just because you saved me, you get to kiss me?”

“No, I think I get to kiss you because you think I’m objectively attractive.” 

“Shut up, Shaw,” you said, brushing your lips against his as you heard a squeal nearby that made you both flinch.

“Aha! I so knew you two were into each other!” said Dory, suddenly standing there with Denny trailing behind. “You guys were so eye fucking each other at the bar.”

“Dorian,” groaned Colter as Denny shook his head and came over, giving you a big hug.

“She’s right, he is cute,” he chuckled, earning a slap on the back from you. “What’d I tell you when I retired? Stay out of trouble. What’d you go and do?”

“It wasn’t my fault I’m smart,” you said, a wave of fatigue rolling over you. Colter placed a hand on your back when you wobbled. 

“We need to get her somewhere she can sleep this off,” he said.

“Come on kid, the guest room is all made up.” You were about to protest that he should stay with Dory when Denny cut you off. “I’m sure Colter can handle it. You can see them in the morning.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, both men helping you stand and over to Denny’s truck. They shared a word in private after getting you inside, your eyes drifting shut now that you were in the nice warm cabin.

“Y/N,” said Denny with the thud of a car door. You hummed, not bothering to even look at him. “You need anything?”

“I wouldn’t say no to food truck tacos before I pass out,” you said. 

“That’s my old partner,” he chuckled. “Let’s get you some dinner.”

Two Days Later

“Hey,” you said when Colter pulled up outside Denny’s place in his truck. Between countless meetings at the office, you hadn’t been able to catch up with him and Dory yet. You didn’t miss the way your stomach did a small flutter at seeing him again.

“Y/N,” he said with a subtle smile, walking around the truck, stopping where you were washing your dirt bike at the end of the driveway. “You trail ride?”

“Denny got me into it when I first got paired up with him years ago. He let’s me keep my gear in his garage. I think I might take a trip, hit some trails I always wanted to.” Colter nodded, biting his bottom lip. “Dory told you I quit?”

“Yeah. Not that I blame you,” he said. You wiped off the frame with a towel, Colter picking up the spare nearby and getting the wheel spokes for you. “I was thinking of heading over towards Park City.”

“For a job?” you asked. 

“Play,” he said, standing and handing you the towel. He shoved his hands in his jean pockets, cocking his head and doing that little shrug again. “I’m pretty decent at mountain biking myself you know.”

“Oh, are you?” you said, crossing your arms.

“He’s flirting, moron,” said Denny as he passed you on the way to the mailbox. You shot him your best bitch face, Colter stifling a laugh as Denny returned with a package and some mail in hand. “She’d love to go.”

“Denny! He could be a serial killer!” Denny ignored you, looking over Colter. 

“She’s never been good with boys you have to understand. Always ends up with duds,” he said, Colter nodding with a smirk. “Little bit of a workaholic this one. Probably a good fit for you though. Take her on one of those reward jobs when you two are done with the mountains.”

“Angela!” you shouted, Denny’s wife popping her head up where she worked in the flowerbed by the front of your house.

“Oh he has a point, honey. You are awful with men.” 

“I should have let Franklin kill me,” you muttered, rubbing your temples. Denny dodged your attempt at smacking his arm, laughing as he ran back towards the house. Your face was hot when you found Colter’s cheeky smile. “Let me guess. I’m doing the thing with my nose again.”

“So what if you are?” he teased, looking down at your bike, nodding his head. “If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty awful with women too.”

“I imagine it’s hard to do the relationship thing with a job like yours.” 

“Yeah,” he said quietly, pursing his lips. “We could just…go have some fun for a week. No strings.”

“Is that what you want? No strings?” you asked. For the first time, you noticed a small flush to his cheekbones, his eyes intense as they met yours. “So you can get flustered. Good to know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, hiding his shyness behind a cocky smile. 

“Answer the question, Shaw.” He looked up and then over your head.

“I wouldn’t…mind strings…with the right person if that makes sense.” 

“You two can take down a serial killer but you can’t ask each other out? No wonder your generation is screwed,” said Denny, going past again with a dirty car mat in hand. 

“You, quiet,” you said, pointing at him when he flipped you off. “You, Shaw. Park City. Whoever gets down the mountain fastest pays for dinner. Then you take me a reward job and by the end of all that, I think we’ll know how we want things to proceed, got it?”

“Yes ma'am.”

Two Weeks Later

“What are you giggling at?” you asked Colter. He chuckled underneath you in the airstream bed, his arm tightening over your waist. “Are you a giggly cuddler? Is this what I’m discovering?”

“I’m just thinking Dory’s never going to let us live this down when we tell her,” he said, pushing down the sheet on your back to trace up and down your exposed spine.

“I know,” you sighed. “How will she ever live with the fact you’re slow as fuck down a mountain?”

He gently smacked your ass, pointing a finger when you grinned. “You cheated.”

“You’re a sore loser,” you said, his hand brushing the hair out of your face, thumbing over your mostly healed mark on your temple. Your chin rested on his chest, Colter continuing to stroke over the faded scar. “If you’re thinking of telling Dory about us, does that mean you want me to stay?”

“I like the strings,” he said quietly, his warm hands traveling up and down the sides of your body. “This is what it’s like. A job, downtime, a job, downtime. S’all I know.”

“I get that,” you said, lowering your eyes to his chest. “It’s easy to get wrapped up in the job and forget to have a life.”

“Why’d you really quit? They would have promoted you back up I’m sure,” he said.

“They broke my trust. The only person that had my back was you.” He tipped his head forward, kissing your forehead. “I want to stay.”

“Well that’s good considering I wasn’t letting you go.” You smiled when he tucked your hair behind your ear. “So. Ladies choice. We take another job we don’t yet have or we head over to Washington, hit some trails, maybe I show you some rock climbing basics. Or we stay here in bed until further notice.”

“Such hard choices,” you said, Colter grinning and shifting his leg so you felt him poking you in the thigh. You sat upright, narrowing your eyes. “If you make a hard joke, I swear-”

“You’ll what?” he teased, flipping you around, body hovering over yours. You frowned up at him, Colter kissing the tip of your nose. “So you don’t want the bed option?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Shaw.” He raised his eyebrows, a dark smirk on his lips that had your hand flying to his mouth. “Do not say it you filthy gutter mind. Nothing in my mouth. Got it?”

“You make it so easy though,” he chuckled, burrowing his face in your neck, kissing under your jaw. You purred, Colter humming. “That’s my girl.”

“Bed. Washington. Job. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like you like the strings too,” he mumbled trailing his hand down between your bodies. “I can’t blame you. You do drool over me.”

“Why don’t you shut that mouth of yours, Shaw and put it to better use?” you said, slipping your hands to his hips. 

“Whatever you say, beautiful.”

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A/N: Let me know what you thought and if you'd like to see more Colter x reader stuff in the future!